Something Close to Magic

Contents Cover Title Page Dedication Part One: In Which an Adventure Occurs Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Interlude: In Which Letters Are Exchanged Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Part Two: In Which Nothing Goes as Planned Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Chapter Forty-Seven Chapter Forty-Eight Chapter Forty-Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-One Chapter Fifty-Two Chapter Fifty-Three Chapter Fifty-Four Chapter Fifty-Five Chapter Fifty-Six Chapter Fifty-Seven Acknowledgments About the Author Copyright Guide Cover Start of Content Title Page Dedication Acknowledgments About the Author Copyright I II III V VI VII VIII 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 Something Close to Magic Emma Mills to Mama PART ONE In Which an Adventure Occurs One It was midmorning when a stranger pushed through the door of Basil’s Bakery. The baker’s apprentice, Aurelie, was in the midst of a conversation with a man who was seeking assurance that the cinnamon loaf contained quite enough—but not too much—cinnamon. “Excess cinnamon,” he said gravely, as if it were some fatal error, “irreparably unbalances the gustatory experience.” It was a snort that drew Aurelie’s attention to the stranger, who was now standing nearby. Over the course of her three years as an apprentice, Aurelie had grown familiar with the faces of many of the people in the village where Basil’s lay, just north of the Underwood. But she had never seen this particular girl before. The stranger was dark eyed, raven haired, and beautiful, certainly, but there was sharpness to it—a beauty with teeth. She wore a traveling coat of black velvet with a matching black dress underneath, a small motif of leaves stitched in gold thread all across it. Even her gloves matched, embroidered in the same fashion. It gave Aurelie pause to see someone in the village dressed so fine, but maybe she was the daughter of a merchant or a particularly prosperous tradesman. The New Rich, Mrs. Basil liked to say. Some people think more of them than they do of the nobility, you know. And why is that? Aurelie was duty bound to respond. Mrs. Basil looked at her squarely. They’ve earned their wealth, she replied, and failed to see the irony in it. The stranger smiled, and even her smile had an edge to it. “Pardon me,” she said. “I was just thinking that I would much more readily trust a baker to handle my gustatory experience than a”—she assessed the man for a moment—“moderately successful apothecary. Though not nearly as successful as he boasts.” “Why, I—” “Would like the cinnamon loaf? An excellent choice. Here, Baker.” The stranger moved forward and handed Aurelie several coins. Aurelie hurriedly packaged the cinnamon loaf, and the stranger handed it to the man. “The impertinence—” he blustered. “Is astounding, yes.” She fixed the man with an unwavering stare. “Goodbye.” With a huff and a muttered curse, the man left. Aurelie was bewildered and awed in equal measure. The stranger cast her a glance. “I’m sorry, were you hoping to continue that conversation?” Before Aurelie could reply, she went on. “I thought not. Three morning buns, please.” Aurelie went to fetch the buns. She got the curious feeling that the stranger was watching her, but when she snuck a quick look back, the girl’s eyes were fixed on the case filled with cakes and patisserie. When Aurelie returned, the stranger rested