Chapter 1: Dénouement

Hecate’s dress is white like the moon, and her skin is white like paper, but the flowers cradled in her arms are a white that Azura has never seen—like the off-white of merrow custard, but bright as the sun. It’s easier to look at Hecate’s red hair, which falls in locks upon the bouquet, than to look at the flowers directly.

“For me?” Azura says.

Hecate stands motionless, her smile frozen, while the idyllic forest spins around them.

“Your other face,” Azura says suddenly. Only the one, smiling end of Hecate’s head is visible from this angle. Azura tries to walk around, to get a better look, but the greenery is swimming. “Let me see. Let me see!”

Hecate leaps into Azura’s arms; a few of the flowers drift to the floor.

“I guess it’s a human thing,” she says. “One person wears a white dress, and the other one wears a suit—or I guess they both wear dresses, or suits—and there’s a party with cake and stuff, and the two of them promise to always love each other, and then it’s usually happy ever after!”

Azura’s heart does that little fluttery thing that it always does around Hecate. Especially when she talks about human things, or about the Good Witch Azura series, or about how her day is going, or really just about anything.

Luz sits across from her, smiling. The table is littered with white petals and lit by three tall candles. It’s different, somehow, this smile. Their hands are clasped in the center of the table. Because they’re dating. Yes, dating! Of course they are! Girlfriends! Luz is hers, and she is Luz’s. A candle winks out, and something like that flutter-heart feeling—but steadier, warmer—washes slowly over Amity. She basks in the feeling, in the doting smile of her love.

Love! They’re in love! She leans across the table and kisses Luz. Because she can, she can, she can! Their faces melt into one another—fuck, there’s that feeling again; she didn’t know it could happen twice. The warmth drips down her neck and into her fingertips. She wraps herself around Luz, nuzzles her face into the crook of her girlfriend’s neck. The candles are out. The table is gone. It’s just the two of them, now and always.

❀

Amity Blight opened her eyes to a deep, familiar darkness. Instinctively, she rolled over and reached for the sleeping form of her girlfriend. Her hands met empty air, dangling off the edge of her bed, and she recalled the truth.

Luz was not, in fact, Amity’s girlfriend. She was a friend. A good friend, an amazing friend, but just a friend. And she would never be anything else, for Amity would never confess her feelings. (What if Luz didn’t reciprocate? What if the awkwardness of a one-sided crush got in the way of their friendship? Best never to risk it.)

But that dream—the knowledge, the conviction that she and Luz had been together—it felt real, even now. Wonderfully, heart-stoppingly real. Accepting the truth left a hollow ache in Amity’s chest; she swallowed her tears and closed her eyes, but she did not fall back asleep.

❀

Could she use magic, somehow, to suppress her feelings for Luz? Only temporarily, of course. She liked being head over heels for this one adorable, brave, stubborn human. But the idea of turning off her infatuation when it got too painful or distracting? That could be nice. She had no clue how she’d accomplish it, though.

Dawn finally illuminated her bedroom: bookcase, dresser, vacant wall space where an Emperor’s Coven recruitment poster had once hung, corked glass bottle of sky-blue liquid—a potion of fabric softening. At once, the solution clicked into place.

Amity washed and dressed quickly, invigorated despite her lack of sleep. After a quick breakfast of fried bacon stems, she searched the manor for her siblings, eventually finding them in the basement. The normally empty room hosted an array of illusory household objects: carved wooden furniture, crystal balls, candle holders, bloodbound rugs, bejeweled chandeleirs, ovens both mundane and magical, and a few shrines to the Titan.

They must be practicing for a test, Amity realized with a strange mix of satisfaction and annoyance.

“Good morning, Mittens,” Emira called sweetly from the back of the room.

Ignoring the nickname, Amity turned to Edric, who sat at the bottom of the steps. “Can I borrow your potions textbook?”

“Aw, she thinks she can catch up with us,” Ed teased. “Isn’t that cute?”

“Our little overachiever,” Em cooed.

Amity said flatly, “Can I have the book or not?”

The twins exchanged a glance.

“I think it’s in the parlor,” Ed said.

Upon retrieving the textbook, Amity holed up in her room for the rest of the morning. She read and reread chapter seven, “Modifying Potions with Spellcraft,” until the basic principles were seared into her eye sockets. Just as she was about to practice on her fabric softener, the crystal ball on her dresser lit up.

“Amity?” came the sound of Luz’s voice. “Amityyyy, are you there?”

Her heart skipped a beat. She silenced the crystal with a quick wave of her hand, then summoned her scroll and messaged Luz.

Don't ever use my crystal ball to contact me again.

How did you even get that number?

oh, um, sorry

willow gave it to me

im still getting used to this scroll, i thought crystal would be easier

sorry

Panic quieted into looming dread—and guilt.

It's ok. Sorry for freaking out. Just please don’t do it again.

So, what's up?

Titan’s breath, what an awful transition. So, what’s up? Amity fought the urge to blow up her scroll so she could never again send Luz such an embarrassing message.

wanna go fishing for crabs??

oath crabs that is

i have NO idea what an oath crab is but king made it sound really cool

Yes, I'd love to!

yay!

meet us at the owl house in like an hour?

Sounds good!

Who else is coming?

king and gus and willow

Okay! See you in an hour.

see you!!

Amity burned halfway through one of her training wands trying to get the reversal spell right before she realized the opportunity Luz had just presented her.

Actually, I don’t think I can come, sorry.

I have some homework that might take a while.

oh, ok

that sucks im sorry

we're still on for azura book club right?

Yes!

❀

Some two hours later, Amity stood at Luz’s front door, her hand poised to knock—but something made her hesitate. She could turn back now. No one would be the wiser; Hooty was asleep at his—

The door slammed open. “Eeeeeeeda! You have a visitor, hoot hoot!”

A loud crash sounded from somewhere inside the cottage while Amity sent a silent prayer to the Titan that He legalize avicide. Luz’s guardian approached the doorway moments later, rubbing her sleep-glazed eyes.

“Who in their right—”

Amity cleared her throat. “Hi, Miss Owl Lady.”

“Oh. You.” Edalyn peered at her. “You’re Luz’s friend, right?”

“Yes,” Amity said slowly. “We’ve met before. A few times, actually. I’m Amity. Amity Blight?”

Eda blinked. Incredibly, she looked as if she’d just woken up. Her eyes sported bags, her hair was exceptionally unkempt, and her outfit—well, Amity tended to throw out clothes before they became half as tattered and stained as the robe Eda now wore. Not to mention the slippers.

“Luz isn’t home,” Eda said, waving her hand dismissively. “Ran off with King to do…something stupid, probably. I’d say you’re welcome to wait until she gets back, but I’m in the middle of my beauty sleep. Good morning.” And she shut the door.

Maybe Amity should have listened to the sense of relief that washed over her—the loosening of that tightness in her gut. Instead she caught the door with her shoulder, holding it open by an inch. (“Ow, rude!” said the bird.)

“I’m not here to see Luz. I want to buy a potion—Luz told me that you sell them? Also, it’s one in the afternoon.”

The door immediately flew open (“Okay, again, OW!”), causing Amity to trip and stumble forward into the house.

“Oh, you’re a customer! Why didn’t you say so? Come in, come in.” Eda looked a different person entirely: straight-backed, wide-eyed, and smiling. Amity could almost see the snail signs lighting up in her eyes. “Have a seat, and hold tight for a second.” She ducked into another room, leaving Amity alone.

Just being in Luz’s house sent a chill down Amity’s spine. She recalled (unwillingly) the handful of times she’d visited: sitting on that armchair, pretending to read, covertly watching Luz scrawl glyphs into her notebook from across the room; or on this very couch, inches away from Luz, trying not to melt at the physical proximity. Then her thoughts turned (quite unwillingly) to daydreams: finding Luz alone in the Owl House—better yet, Luz inviting her over—hugging, kissing—getting horizontal—

Amity tried very hard not to blush.

Eda returned with a large wooden tray full of clinking glass containers. No two vials were identical: they ranged from triangular beakers to winding tubes, from small as a thumb to thicker than an arm; the potions within varied wildly in color, opacity, and effervescence, as surely as if they’d been plucked from a painbow; and the occasional odd ingredient floated in the mix—a fingernail here, a fishtooth there, a flower petal in every fifth glass. The assortment rather belonged on the cover of a potions textbook, or in recruiting materials for the Potions Coven.

After laying her wares on the room’s low central table, Eda took a seat on the couch next to Amity. “Now, what can I do you for? We’ve got shoe shine, invisibility polish, all-purpose unseasoning, elixir of knowledge retention—that one’s great if you’ve got an exam coming up—ratfold venom, elixir of knowledge unretention, concoction of underwater whistling—you’re probably a little young for that, huh—polymorphic brew, snake oil—”

“I want a love potion,” Amity blurted before Eda could list her whole inventory.

The businesswoman’s smile evaporated at once. Amity bit the inside of her lip and returned Eda’s silent, steady gaze.

“That’s above my pay grade,” Eda finally said. “Not to mention illegal.”

Amity’s heart sped up, just a little bit. “It’s important. I don’t know where else to find one. And I thought you didn’t care about the law—no offense.” Please don’t get me in trouble, she thought.

“I don’t.” Eda pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, most of what Belos has outlawed is completely harmless. Being covenless, selling wares without a license, resisting arrest, manslaughter”—she counted off the proscriptions on her fingers. “But some illegal things really are bad. Like first-degree murder, or love potions.”

Amity opened her mouth to respond, but Eda wasn’t finished.

“Trust me. Whatever boy problems you’re having, adding a love potion into the mix will only lead to heartbreak and regret. And a trip to the conformatorium.” Eda spoke with an air of finality that Amity knew all too well—the tone adults invoked to say, This conversation is over.

She tried to explain that it wasn’t like that. She wanted to get rid of the heartache, not add more. But her voice faltered: “I’m not…she’s…”

Eda raised an eyebrow. “Fine, girl problems. Sorry for assuming.”

So that’s it, thought Amity. I’ll be miserable forever. In love with a girl I can barely talk to.

No, no. Surely she could find another black-market vendor…somehow. The thought of getting tangled up in the criminal underworld terrified her. But she could do it—for the sake of her friendship with Luz, and for her own sanity. She would get her hands on a love potion.

Lost in her thoughts, it took Amity a second to notice Eda. The woman had leaned in toward Amity—like, way too close—and was now fixing her with a strange, discerning stare. Her mismatched irises, yellow and gray, drew Amity’s attention: two fixed points on a blanched face.

Amity had no idea what was happening. She felt like she’d met four different women today: half-asleep Eda, Eda the potion merchant, Eda the stern adult, and now…well, whatever this was. (The words wanted criminal flashed through her mind, but she dismissed them.) With no script to follow, Amity simply froze.

“Listen, kid,” Eda finally said. The smell of apple blood was thick on her breath, and Amity had to swallow to avoid gagging. “A love potion is powerful stuff.” Without breaking eye contact, Eda reached with one hand into her nest of tangled silver hair. “You want my advice, just use a drop.” She pulled a tiny, corked vial from her mane and held it between their faces; clear liquid sloshed around inside, refracting Eda’s yellow eye and knocking her face out of proportion. “One drop. It won’t make her fall in love with you. But if she already likes you, those feelings will be inflamed. She’ll confess if you ask her. Get it?”

“Mhm,” Amity said automatically, and nodded, although she did not get it.

Eda’s frown deepened. “Promise me that you won’t feed more than a drop of this”—she waggled the vial for emphasis—“to Luz.”

Oh. Oh. Amity swallowed loudly. “I promise. Witch’s honor.” She extended a hand—or rather she proffered it awkwardly with her elbow bent, Eda being very much in her personal space right now.

Eda held Amity’s gaze for another quiet moment—then nodded, leaned back, and pressed the vial into Amity’s open palm. “All yours, kid.”

Amity closed her fingers around the potion. It weighed little, but felt heavy in her grip. “You don’t want to—?”

“Give you a flask with only a single drop?” interrupted Eda. “No. It would lose potency within minutes.”

“That’s not—I know that. I passed Elementary Potions.”

The comment garnered an eye roll, but Amity didn’t care. The Owl Lady’s weird, unspoken test was over, and she had her prize.

“I just thought you might want to make an Everlasting Oath,” Amity continued.

“Nah. I’m not really a fan of those things.” Eda’s whole demeanor had changed; she reclined lazily, one arm slung over the couch.

Amity tucked the potion into her shirt pocket and stood up, suddenly eager to get away from this house.

Eda cleared her throat. “I take cash.”

“Right, right.” Amity blushed as she reached for her purse, embarrassed that she’d almost forgotten this part. “How much?”

“Four hundred fifty.”

“Snails?” Amity practically spat.

“Yes, I do believe that’s the standard currency—hey, don’t look at me like that! This stuff is expensive to brew. ”

Amity frantically counted out her remaining bills. “I only have three hundred…three hundred and twenty left.”

Eda’s lips curled into a frown. “Aren’t your parents made of money?” 

“I have an allowance.” She worked to keep the desperation out of her voice.

Eda looked at Amity, then at the wad of bills clutched tight between her fingers, then back at Amity. She let out a loud, defeated sigh.

“All right, a discount. Three hundred twenty snails. But only because you’re Luz’s friend.”

Amity handed over her remaining cash for the month, then fled the Owl House in the direction of Blight Manor, heart racing, the potion snug against her chest.