Chapter 4 Unwanted Visitor
Ana's POV
Grandmother's funeral took place the following afternoon. Just as she had requested, it was small. At least, it was supposed to be.
By the time I arrived at Moonhaven Cemetery with Beth and Mrs. Bell, nearly half the town was already there. Witches and mages stood beneath the old silverwood trees dressed in black, carrying flowers, memory bottles, and enchanted candles.
"She said she wanted something small," I whispered.
Beth slipped her arm through mine. "Your grandmother preserved memories for people in Moonhaven for more than fifty years. You really thought they wouldn't come?"
"She would complain about the crowd."
Beth smiled. "She absolutely would."
I almost smiled too, but then I saw the coffin beneath the largest silverwood tree, surrounded by white flowers.
Beth squeezed my arm. "Take your time."
I swallowed and forced myself forward.
People offered condolences as I passed. Some hugged me while others told me about memories Grandmother had preserved for them. An elderly woman showed me a tiny golden bottle containing the morning her late husband proposed. Another woman still had the memory of her parents dancing at her wedding, while a couple had preserved their first date.
Grandmother had never talked much about the people who came into her shop. To her, preserving memories had simply been her work, but standing there, I finally understood it had been much more. She had spent her life protecting pieces of other people's lives, and now she was gone.
I barely heard the ceremony. Mostly, I stared at the coffin and thought about everything I should have done differently. I should have visited more often, stayed longer, and asked more questions about the shop. I should have listened when Grandmother told me that failing at the university didn't make me a failure.
When the ceremony ended, I stepped forward and placed a white rose on her coffin.
"I'm sorry, Grandma," I whispered. "For leaving. For staying away so long. For thinking I had to leave this world because I couldn't become the kind of witch everyone expected me to be."
My eyes filled. "I hope you knew I loved you."
A warm breeze moved through the trees, rustling the branches above me. For one ridiculous second, it felt like an answer.
"Goodbye, Grandma."
By the time I returned to the Memory Shop, evening had settled over Moonhaven. I unlocked the faded blue door and stepped inside, only to stop when several memory bottles brightened before dimming again.
"That's not strange at all."
People had already tried to enter the shop twice that morning, so I found a wooden sign beneath the counter and hung it outside.
CLOSED.
Large letters, very clear, and impossible to misunderstand. Perfect.
I went back inside, locked the door, and looked around at the hundreds of memory bottles covering the shelves, glowing softly in gold, blue, pink, silver, and violet.
As a child, I thought Grandmother possessed the most wonderful magic in the world. Then I went to the University of Magic, where combat, elemental, transformation, healing, and protection magic were considered powerful. Memory witches merely preserved things that had already happened.
Desperate to belong, I eventually started seeing Grandmother's magic the same way. I had thought it was small, and now I hated myself a little for ever thinking that.
I walked behind the counter and found her reading glasses still sitting beside the cup of tea she had left behind. Cold tea remained at the bottom when I picked it up.
"You could have at least finished your tea," I whispered as my chest tightened.
I washed the cup, cleaned the counter, rearranged papers, and swept a floor that didn't need sweeping. Anything to avoid going upstairs to Grandmother's bedroom because I wasn't ready for that yet.
Eventually, I ran out of things to clean and dropped into her chair.
"What am I supposed to do here for thirty days?"
One of the bottles on the nearest shelf flickered.
I narrowed my eyes at it. "If you're going to start answering questions, now would be an excellent time."
Nothing happened, and I sighed. "Thought so."
My gaze drifted toward the bottom drawer of Grandmother's desk. It wasn't completely closed, which was strange because Grandmother hated leaving drawers open.
I pulled it open and found a thick leather notebook beneath receipts, old letters, and dried herbs. A faded crescent moon had been pressed into the cover.
I opened it and immediately recognized Grandmother's handwriting.
Moonvale Memory Spells
My breath caught as I turned the pages. There were hundreds of spells. Memory Preservation. Memory Restoration. Emotional Imprint. Dream Recall. Shared Memory. Memory Protection. Some filled entire pages with symbols and instructions, while others were only a few lines long.
I had never heard of many of them, much less learned how to perform them.
For a moment, I wondered why Grandmother had never taught me before the answer came with an uncomfortable sting.
I had never given her the chance.
When I was younger, she had offered, but I had always been too busy practicing the magic the university demanded from me. Whenever she suggested teaching me memory magic, I told her I needed to concentrate on real magic.
My stomach twisted. "Oh, Grandma."
If I could take those words back, I would.
Near the middle of the notebook, one page had been folded at the corner.
Memory Preservation: Basic
The instructions were surprisingly simple. No wand. No potion. Only an object connected to a memory, concentration, and an incantation.
Trying an unfamiliar spell alone in a shop filled with hundreds of irreplaceable memories was a terrible idea.
I closed the notebook.
Three seconds later, I opened it again. "One try."
My gaze landed on Grandmother's reading glasses. I picked them up, and a memory immediately surfaced.
I was eight years old, sitting on this very counter while Grandmother worked.
"Stop swinging your legs, Ana."
"I'm bored."
"Magic requires patience."
"Then I'm never going to be good at magic."
Grandmother had laughed. "Perhaps magic will simply have to learn to be patient with you."
My eyes burned. Suddenly, I missed her so much it was difficult to breathe.
"I wish you were here."
The shop became strangely quiet as I placed her glasses on the counter, rested my fingertips against them, and closed my eyes.
I concentrated on Grandmother's laughter, her voice, her hands moving over a glowing bottle, and the smell of lavender that always clung to her clothes. Then I whispered the incantation.
Nothing happened.
I opened one eye. "Obviously."
Apparently, five years in the human world hadn't magically transformed me into a competent witch.
I started to pull my hand away when the glasses glowed.
I froze as one golden spark rose from the lens, followed by another.
"What?"
Golden light rushed through my fingers, and I stumbled backward as the notebook flew open and its pages flipped wildly. All around me, memory bottles began glowing. First a few, then dozens, until hundreds of gold, violet, blue, pink, and silver lights flooded the shop and the bottles began humming.
"Oh no."
I grabbed the notebook. "What did I do?"
The pages stopped on a spell near the back, but before I could read it, golden light burst from Grandmother's glasses and shot across the room.
I ducked, and then everything stopped.
Silence filled the shop as I slowly lifted my head. The bottles had returned to normal. Nothing was burning, and nothing had exploded, which alone made this one of my more successful attempts at magic.
A faint golden glow remained inside one lens of Grandmother's glasses.
My heart pounded as I stared at it.
For the first time in years, magic had responded to me.
I reached for the notebook when a loud bang came from the front door.
I jumped as the handle moved. The door was locked, and the sign very clearly said CLOSED.
"We're closed!" I called.
The handle stopped, and I relaxed slightly. Good. Apparently literacy still existed in the magical world.
I turned back toward the notebook, but a click behind me made me freeze.
Slowly, I looked toward the door and saw the lock opening by itself.
"What the hell?"
The door swung inward, and a man stepped inside. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a black coat. Power rolled off him so strongly that I felt it before I fully registered him.
My irritation exploded. "Excuse me? The sign says closed!"
He pushed the door shut behind him. "I know."
My jaw dropped. "Then why are you inside?"
"I need something."
"And I need people to understand basic reading comprehension. We're both having a difficult evening."
His head turned toward me, and my entire body went still.
No. Absolutely not.
It had been five years since I had seen that face, since I had stood inside the University of Magic pretending his insults didn't hurt, and since I had been stupid enough to have a hopeless crush on the most arrogant mage I had ever met.
He had changed. The boy I remembered had become a man, sharper, broader, more intimidating, and somehow even more unfairly handsome.
But I would have recognized those eyes anywhere.
Theo Silvershade was the last person in the magical world I wanted to see.
His gaze finally settled on my face, and recognition flashed across his expression.
"Ana Moonvale?"
