A Non-Witch's Grimoire of Love and Fireflies

Part 1

“Thank you, Mrs. Latimer!”

Tierney curtseyed to her customer as the heavy wooden door shut in front of her. She turned around with a sigh, adjusting the cluster of little bottles that clinked on her belt and picked her way through the overgrown garden and back to the cobbled street. Her fingers itched to take leaves and flowers off of the plants, but Tierney knew Mrs. Latimer was almost certainly still watching her from the clouded window of her little townhouse.

“Tier-ney!”

“Oof,” Tierney grunted as a long-limbed, heavy weight threw itself at her as soon as she stepped onto the street. It was Ametrine, her best friend, biggest annoyance, and also quite possibly who Tierney thought could be the most beautiful person in the world.

“Get off,” she grumbled, pushing weakly. “You’re way bigger than me, it’s not fair.”

Ametrine pulled back, but still leaned one elbow on Tierney’s shoulder, grinning devilishly.

“I finished work early.”

“I know.”

“Wanna do something fun?”

“I haven’t finished work early.”

Ametrine scowled and straightened up, brushing her light ginger hair messily back over her head with one hand to reveal her bright eyes. Tierney adjusted her glasses, using the gesture to hide her face momentarily.

“I’ve only got two more customers. You can come, but stay outside.”

“You got it!” Ametrine said cheerfully. She saluted and tightened both her hands around the strap of her quiver. “Archer Ametrine, ready to serve the lady!”

Tierney rolled her eyes and took out the list of customers from her pocket and pulled her quill out of her bushy hair. She neatly crossed Mrs. Latimer’s name from the list and looked down to the next one.

“Miss Barkridge,” she muttered to herself, and set off in the direction of her house. Ametrine followed her, hopping gracefully between the cobblestones. She chattered mindlessly as she did so, Tierney only providing her with vague answers while she searched the houses for the right address.

“Stay here,” she commanded, stopping in front of a cottage with an elegant rose garden and a fish pond.

“Yes ma’am!” Ametrine pulled herself into a stiff soldier’s pose and held it, though Tierney could tell she was having trouble fighting her constant need to be moving.

Tierney opened the gate and walked up to knock on the front door. Miss Barkridge opened it promptly and they greeted each other politely. Miss Barkridge was a kind old woman, and one of Tierney’s best customers. She was unmarried, and from the lengthy, tangential conversations that always accompanied her visits, Tierney sometimes suspected that Miss Barkridge was paying more for her company rather than her wares. Today was no different, and a considerable amount of time had passed before she finally curtseyed her way back out, her belt and bag several potions and spells lighter, her purse many coins heavier, and her hands occupied by a large, rock-hard raisin scone.

Ametrine had long abandoned her soldier act and was moping on the streetside.

“I was so bored,” she complained, draping herself dramatically over Tierney.