Succulents and Spells by Andi C. Buchanan

Author:Andi C. Buchanan [Buchanan, Andi C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-473-54363-1
Publisher: A.C. Buchanan
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Laurel sat over her coffee and inhaled. She had worked every day in the past ten, some of them late shifts, some early, and twice all the way through from opening to closing, which was unreasonable in anyone's book. She’d been missing Marigold the whole time, texting her every time she got a breather. It hadn’t been enough. Her sleep had been suffering. She'd kept all the questions Aunt Penelope had left her with in the back of her mind, but never really had the brain space – even when she'd had the time – to properly devote to them.

Not for the first time, Laurel felt as if she had not fully grown into her identity as a witch. She may be able to do some useful things now, but she was so aware of her limitations. She was also aware that this was only temporary; that she had no specialisation and after this, she'd go back to making the same basic potions and little else. She wasn't sure how much she'd see of Marigold then either. She wanted to solve this, but at the same time, she really didn't want things to end.

She was working later today, but for now she had a bit of time to herself. Her flatmates were at work, or up at uni, and it was just her, Tibbs, and her succulents. She opened her laptop and brought up the website of a witch-owned garden centre in Whanganui. Even though what she was ordering was from their mundane section, and not their less advertised magical section, witches still bought from witches by default. She looked through their succulent range, and picked a few: an Echeveria whose rosette pattern of light purple leaves looked almost like a flower, the colour of lavender, and a Kangaroo Paw, a plant with brilliant flame-red flowers at the top of long dark green stems.

After a second thought, she added some pots and a pack of water-holding crystals to her order, along with a new – and better – set of secateurs, as hers were getting blunted but weren’t good enough quality to waste the money on having them sharpened. It all went on the credit card. It wasn't money she had easily available, but she'd picked up a couple of extra shifts this month, so she'd be able to pay it off when it was due.

She loved getting new arrivals of succulents; felt like Christmas. They'd be at her door before long, and soon it would be spring and she'd be able to start taking cuttings and passing on succulents to her friends, something she loved doing. And growing new ones for herself as well, because even those that were grown from a cutting looked somehow unique, yet at the same time, it was like watching an old friend growing to be the person – or the plant – they were meant to be.

She had been merely adequate at growing other plants, at least by witching standards. She could keep

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