The Tales and Tellings of Hallows' Grove (MLM)

CHAPTER THREE.

                Nox leapt into the car and Henry slipped inside behind him. No sooner had he sat down than Edward was in the backseat.

"What does that mean?" he demanded. "You've died before. You came back?"

"Please stop breaking into my things," said Henry.

"I can't help it," said Edward as though only now realizing he was inside the car. "I just thought of following you and I was suddenly in here. But did you really die? How did you make it back? Tell me, please!"

"There's no point telling you," Henry said, checking his mirrors. "It was a miracle, even for a witch, and the only one who could've managed it is dead now. Move, I can't see behind me."

Edward leaned in, eager. "But who did it last time?"

"My grandfather," Henry said, unwanted images rising in his mind at the mention. "I'll need you to stop asking questions once we get to town, I'll look like a bloody lunatic talking to myself."

This distracted Edward. As they drove out of the forest and onto the cobblestones that led into the village square, Edward looked out the window, wide-eyed.

"I don't recognize this place," he muttered as though to himself.

"No, I didn't think you were from around here," Henry said. "Must've died close by then."

"Can you stop saying that word?" he said helplessly.

"Sorry. Right then, we've arrived. Remember, don't speak."

Without waiting for Edward's objections, Henry stepped out, the keys to his shop door in his hand. There was a wooden sign that read Potions & Candles in front of the tall, narrow building. Once a church in medieval times, now a small house for everything Henry could conjure during his charm work sessions.

Chandeliers with candles hung with gold chains from a seemingly endless ceiling. Tables of all shapes and sizes were pushed against the walls, laid with glass bottles and amulets and rings and candles that never went out. The smell of pumpkin spice and fallen leaves filled the air, as the seasons inside the shop always paralleled the ones outside.

Nox navigated the narrow walkway easily and leapt onto the counter amidst more corked bottles of herbs and scrolls of parchment and pens, half of them empty of ink.

"Wow," Edward breathed, head tilted back as he studied the gold birds perched on the wooden beams above their heads. "What're those for?"

Henry smirked, running his finger along the spines of a crowded shelf. "Security cameras, of a sort. I always know who's in my shop. Ah, here it is." He pulled out a thin book, and blew dust off the now yellow pages.

"And to think," he murmured, looking through it, "I'd almost thrown it away."

Edward came around the desk, and leaned over Henry's shoulder. "What is that? A spell book? What's it for?"

Henry could faintly smell the smoke of a crackling fireplace and feel warmth radiating off the ghost's body. It took him a second to realize Edward was still asking questions.

"A spell to send you back to the howlite path," he said. "It's a simple potion to enhance howlite and light the way home."

"Home?" Edward stepped back, his hands on his chest. "I don't even know what that is."