Page 43 of Herbs & Hex-breaking

At noon, Dex walked over with a couple of sandwiches. Taylor shooed us to the back, and we sat around my desk and ate. He had an egg salad sandwich, and he’d gotten me a turkey melt.

“This is a nice surprise,” I said.

“Our second date,” he said, lifting his bottled water in a toast.

“Maybe we’ll actually get to finish our meal this time.” I laughed but winced at the soreness of my ribs.

“How bad is it?” Dex asked.

“Not too bad,” I assured him. “A bit sore. I imagine tomorrow it’ll be worse.”

“Try and keep moving,” Dex suggested, “so it doesn’t stiffen up on you.”

I nodded and took a bite of my sandwich. After we finished our food, I wondered what Dex would do now that we were alone. But he kept it casual. He cleaned up the paper our sandwiches had been wrapped in and tossed everything away. Before he left, he pressed a sweet kiss to my cheek and told me to call him if I needed any help.

“Thank you for replacing the crock pot,” I said. “And for lunch.”

With a nod and a smile, he strolled back to the bookstore, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of him.

Later that afternoon I got a text from Johnny. After being kept overnight for observation, Hattie was being discharged. I called a local florist and had a big bouquet of blue hydrangeas sent to her home. I did so for three reasons. One to cheer her, and secondly for protection—hydrangea blooms were often used in hex-breaking and herbal protection spells. And lastly, the blossoms were a particular favorite of Hattie’s.

It had been another busy day, with lots of culinary spice sales. Next door, the sound of talk and laughter drifted over to The Apothecary Shoppe. The book club had gathered for their monthly meeting and were making their way upstairs to the lecture space.

As we ran the closing reports, Taylor reminded me that we needed to restock my bespoke pumpkin pie spice mixture and the mulling spices for the weekend.

“I plan on working on both of those blends tonight,” I assured her. “I’ll bring them down with me in the morning.”

“Good,” she said, as she swept the hardwood floor. “Cuz we’re nearly out.”

I nodded. “The containers came in the other day. I’ll get them all packaged up this evening.”

“Hey Kate, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” I said.

“I was wondering...” her voice trailed off and she checked around making sure we were alone before she continued. “What’s a Magistra?”

I kept my expression neutral and friendly as I spoke. “Why do you ask?”

She leaned on the broom handle. “Well, I overheard a few of the ladies from the book club that were shopping over here earlier talking about it. I assume it’s a person?”

“Technically,” I began, “the Latin word means ‘master’ or ‘teacher.’”

“So, which one is it?”

“In this case the word Magistra means a woman in authority, or a High Priestess.”

“Oh.” Taylor’s eyes went wide. “Is that what the other Witches call Lorna?”

“It’s safe to say, you would not normally hear her addressed so in public.”

Taylor thought that over. “I wasn’t trying to be nosey, I simply wondered. Everyone in Five Points South knows that Lorna is like the head of the local Witch community...but I didn’t realize it was so formal.”

“It doesn’t happen often,” I explained. “Lorna is an exceptionally talented Witch. She’s our community’s paranormal troubleshooter and leader all rolled into one, so the title of Magistra is fitting for her.”

“Could a guy be a Magistra too?”

I smiled. “Latin is gender specific. So, if there were any males the same rank or as powerful as our Lorna—which I highly doubt there are—then they would be called a Magister.”