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Hooves clacked across the tile. Waging a war against the espresso machine, Clover didn't notice until a shadow fell across her mortal enemy's shining bulk. Velvety ears flicking in surprise, she looked up to find a satyr smiling at her in amusement.
His horns gleamed in the café's lights, soft fur peeking out from his cozy sweater. His smile scrunched up his button nose, raising the moon-round spectacles higher on his weathered face.
?Having trouble??
Clover sighed, wiping coffee grit off her hands, and stepped up to the register.
?The only thing stronger than our espresso machine's coffee is its hatred of dragon beans.? She glanced at the pile of scaly beans on the floor, sparking gently, just where the espresso machine had spit them out.
The satyr toyed with the instrument strapped to his side, idly plucking a string.
?Dragon beans? How interesting.?
Remembering that fighting back against the machines was only part of her job, Clover perked up.
?Oh, yes, we've got a whole line of fall flavors.? She gestured to the board behind her, preparing to repeat the list her boss had burned into her brain. Literally. Wraiths were persnickety creatures. Why have employees memorize the menu when you could sear it into their gray matter with cold, spectral fingers?
Clover tried not to shudder, letting the drinks roll off her tongue as if she'd put them there herself, not grumpy old Barnabus with his tattered cloak, skeletal hands, and glaring red eyes.
?First, we've got the Slayer's Special. Smoother than a dragon's wings, aftertaste hotter than a brimstone burrito. Dragon beans roasted in real dragon fire, flavored with a hint of gold dust, and topped with rusty metal flakes.?
Clover's demo drinks sat proudly on the counter next to her. For the Slayer's Special, she'd meticulously arranged the metal flakes, forming a vaguely human outline on the murky red surface.
Some creatures pined for the old days when you could eat any human you stumbled across and blame it on the gods or the weather or a rascal dragon. Clover preferred modern marvels like running water and trashy tv, but she preferred happy customers leaving big tips even more.
?And then we've got the Elven Espresso. Smells like old parchment, tastes like forbidden knowledge. A dash of ink for color. A splash of elderberries for flavor. It'll keep you up for at least 12 hours, so be careful. Also, we're legally not allowed to sell more than one per customer.?
The satyr nodded. He studied the Elven Espresso, indigo liquid trembling as elderberry bits roiled under the surface. Then he looked curiously at the Slayer's Special. Bit bloodthirsty for a satyr, but who was Clover to judge. Espresso certainly wouldn't be his choice since satyrs loved naps almost as much as they loved strolling through meadows, serenading nature.
Barnabus's list continued, crawling up her throat with sticky fingers before tumbling out her mouth.
?Next is the Fairy Frap. Sourced directly from the Ice Queen herself, our ice is cold enough to chatter your teeth and frostbite your fingers. The drink is a mixture of sugar plum and licorice cream, sprinkled with pixie dust. You might feel a little floaty, but it shouldn't cause any lasting damage.?
The drink sparkled so brightly it was hard to look at, like scaling a mountain without enchanted snow goggles. Clover's fingers still tingled from the taste she'd snuck earlier. The pixie dust was low strength, of course. Didn't want anyone getting addicted or going on a cheerful rampage.
?And finally, we've got the Witch's Brew. This tea is sweeter than a hex and twice as enchanting. Spotted mushrooms blended with northern moss and swamp water. Cauldron-boiled and familiar-approved.?
Hours after Clover had made it, the Witch's Brew still steamed gently on the counter. The smell reminded Clover of long hikes through the woods, clambering up rocks to get a good view of the sunrise, brisk mountain air ruffling the fur on her ears.
A shadow darkened the corner of her eye and Clover snapped back to attention. Never knew when Barnabus was watching, skull-face glowering from across the room.
?So, what'll it be??
Unsurprisingly, the satyr chose the Witch's Brew. Even less surprising, the vampire who came after chose the Slayer's Special, while the mermaid with him chose the Fairy Frap. What was surprising was the medusa who strolled in and ordered an Elven Espresso.
?Are you sure that won't upset your snakes?? Clover blurted out, doe eyes widening. The woman laughed, the snakes in her hair hissing softly.
?Maybe when I was a teenager, but they're as hooked as I am now.? She stroked one of her snakes fondly, then those green eyes pierced Clover's again. Luckily, this wasn't Clover's first medusa. She'd already flinched and embarrassed herself with a serpentine customer when she'd first started working here. Barnabus railed at her in the backroom, raspy voice echoing as it bounced off coffee bags and strings of dried herbs.
?Not looking at a medusa is a myth, you empty-headed meat sack. They have to want you to turn to stone, not just make simpering eye contact like brats at a school dance. And do you really think I'd let a medusa turn you to stone? Then I'd have to hire another idiot and train them instead. Absolutely not. I protect my property.?
It was probably the nicest thing Barnabus had ever said. Clover had even mentioned it in her diary, in between ramblings about a nymph she'd been seeing at the time. Their woodland romance hadn't worked out, but they still foraged sometimes when Clover was craving herbal stews. Her deerling senses were keen, but no one could sniff out truffles and sprouts like a nymph.
Clover shook her head, forcing herself back to the coffee-scented present.
?Would you like to pet one??
Clover blinked at the medusa, then reached out hesitantly. The snake's tiny scales were smooth as glass, cold as a chilled beer. Clover didn't drink, but her ex-boyfriend had. That troll introduced her to all sorts of fun things, like underwear lying on the floor and sausage-bacon-rotten-egg pizza stinking up the kitchen. In return, she'd introduced him to a deerling's speed when she'd gathered up his things and thrown them down the stairs.
?They're beautiful,? Clover said, gazing into the snake's golden eyes. Like little acorns, glowing from the inside.
The medusa laughed again, and Clover realized she'd said that last part out loud. She blushed, then dashed away to start making that espresso.
The machine was more accommodating now the offensive dragon beans had been exiled from its presence. Of course, that tentative peace would be shattered once someone ordered the Slayer's Special as an espresso, but for now it hummed contentedly to itself as it churned ink and elderberries into a boiling froth.
In the meantime, Clover put on gloves to scoop out some glittering ice shards for a Fairy Frap, careful not to breath in the pixie dust. She was just adding metal flakes to the Slayer's Special when the espresso machine chirped proudly.
Tray perched on her slender shoulder, Clover deposited drinks at each patron's table. The satyr smiled at her as she passed, tea steam fogging up his glasses. The vampire bared his fangs and slid a few doubloons her way, while his mermaid date downed her Fairy Frap like it was the elixir of youth. She was vibrating with energy when Clover left, cheerfully rambling to her silent companion.
The way the vampire was looking at her, Clover hoped he'd eaten before this, or else that date might end awkwardly. Though, some couples were into that kind of thing. As someone who'd once had a crush on a particularly magnificent oak tree, Clover didn't care what other people did in their spare time, as long as it didn't make a mess in her café.
Thoughts of fangs in necks were still running through her mind when she gave the medusa her drink. Meeting those emerald eyes, she wondered if the medusa could hear what she was thinking. Or smell it, as the snakes flicked their tiny tongues out. The medusa smiled at her and Clover sighed.
?I'm blushing again, aren't I??
?Only a lot,? the medusa assured her. ?But it's cute, just like the rest of you.?
Clover blinked, a deerling in headlights. Her brain didn't catch up to her tongue before she said, ?I have to agree. I'm quite a catch.?
The snakes burst into a hissing chorus as the medusa laughed.
?Bold claim. But I can't take your word for it.?
?Oh?? Clover put her hands on her hips, preparing to defend her many, many virtues as a girlfriend. But the medusa leaned forward, and so did her snakes. Green and gold filled Clover's vision like sunlight through leaves, the medusa's wicked smile at the center.
?I'll have to test it for myself.?
Clover felt her ears flicking with excitement, but she wasn't embarrassed since the snakes were bobbing eagerly too.
?Of course,? Clover managed breathlessly. ?For science.?
The medusa raised her coffee and Clover nodded back, trying to convince her eyelashes that fluttering wildly was not the smoothest course of action. They listened, sort of. Clover hoped it came off seductive and charming instead of a flustered facial twitch.
?I get off in ten minutes.?
?Then I've got ten minutes to brainstorm the perfect date.?
?As long as it doesn't involve coffee.?
They smiled at each other, until Clover noticed a dark shadow looming in the corner of her vision. With a grimace, she hurried back to the register before Barnabus could float over and start muttering about outlawed torture techniques for slackers.
A werewolf was sniffing the demo drinks with interest, but the Witch's Brew made him sneeze so hard he almost fell over. Clover tried not to laugh or look over to see if a certain woman was laughing too. But she could hear the soft sound of hissing, and it made her warm and fuzzy as a moss-wrapped tree.
She had ten minutes to think about how to return the favor.
Esmerelda parked her broom and hopped off, running her fingers through her dark, windswept hair. Pointing her warted chin, she marched over to the front of the coffee shop where Hettie stood waiting.
?Morning, Es,? said Hettie, smiling. She was bald, with skin as green as the lily pads down by the pond. She wore a black cloak with a name tag pinned over her heart. ?Heard good things about this one.?
?Hmph,? huffed Esmerelda. She wanted to go to the cafe on Wycamore Road, but Hettie insisted they give the new shop a chance.
Hettie wagged her finger. ?Don't be judgmental.?
?I'm not judgmental. I just have high expectations.? Esmerelda snapped her long fingers and a small red notebook appeared in her hands. ?Nothing good ever comes from these things.?
?Well, now you're just being rude.?
Esmerelda rolled her eyes and turned to the shop. It was a small cottage with cobblestone walls, two circular windows on either side of the wooden door, and smoke curling out of the chimney on the roof in wisps of gray that matched the dreary sky.
?Cozy,? said Hettie. She pulled a blue notebook and pen from her pocket and jotted something down.
?Hmph.?
A sign with GODMOTHER'S NOOK written in crooked handwriting hung on the door, and Esmerelda noticed a small flap right below it, labeled ?Employee Entrance.? She groaned.
?Quit your whining and get inside,? said Hettie.
Esmerelda shot her a dark look before pushing the door open.
A series of fireworks the size of thimbles exploded in front of her eyes and she yelped.
?Oh, how lovely!? said Hettie, writing in her notebook as the fireworks faded.
?Lovely?? snarled Esmerelda. ?They could've singed my eyebrows off!?
?Well, they do need a trim.? Hettie laughed at Esmerelda's hiss.
?Welcome, witches, welcome!? squeaked a voice to the right.
Esmerelda blinked away the brightness of the fireworks still swimming before her eyes and scanned around the shop. Chairs and tables of all shapes--from the size of an ogre to that of a mouse--sat in the corners, holding plush pillows and blankets. A few bookshelves lined the walls. Grass covered the ground, bursting with swaying flowers and trees with twittering birds hopping between branches.
A few butterflies flew in front of Esmerelda's eyes and she tried to swat them away.
?Hello!? said the voice again, and Esmerelda looked over to a counter on the right. Compared to the rest of the shop, the counter was bare and colorless, with only a cash register on top. A small chalkboard with four lines of writing hung on the wall behind.
Behind the cash register fluttered a tiny bright light.
?Er--hello,? sniffed Esmerelda. She pointed her chin higher and strode over to the counter, Hettie trailing behind her. The bright light came into focus and Esmerelda gritted her teeth.
The creature wore a bright blue dress with matching heels, and her wings were purple and blue and orange. They reminded her of a fading sunset.
?Welcome to Godmother's Nook!? piped the fairy, swooping excitedly in a circle.
Esmerelda cleared her throat. ?Thank you,? she said stiffly. ?We run the Broomsticks Blog and--?
The fairy put her hand to her mouth and gasped. ?The Broomsticks Blog?! My favorite! Goodie!?
?Er--yes. We'd like to feature your shop for the first week of fall, if that's alright.?
?Of course! I'm honored, so honored!? The fairy wiped a tear and Esmerelda suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
"Right. Could you tell us about some of your drinks?? she asked instead, opening her notebook and clicking her pen.
?Certainly, Miss!? The fairy flew up to the chalkboard and pointed at the line of writing on the top. ?We have four specials today, ladies. Four! Our first is the Cardigan Cappuccino, made with sweater-weather-in-the-mornings and needs-shorts-in-the-afternoons. Also, a touch of nutmeg.? She winked.
?I assume it's iced at the top and hot at the bottom?? asked Hettie, scribbling in her notebook.
?Right-o, Miss! Hotter than the dragon sauna down the road!? The fairy clapped her hands and danced in the air.
?Next!? snapped Esmerelda. She wanted to leave as soon as possible; the fairy's squeaky voice made her tinnitus act up.
?Yes, of course!? The fairy flew a couple of inches lower and pointed to the second line of writing on the menu. ?Our most popular: Pumpkin Patch in a Cup! Made with pumpkin spice.?
?How is that any different than every other pumpkin drink?? grumbled Esmerelda.
?Well, Miss, when you finish it, you're instantly transported to the pumpkin patch closest to you!?
?Wow!? said Hettie, he eyes widening to the size of saucers. ?That's--that's some magic. I don't even know if I could do that.?
?Seems like a liability issue,? said Esmerelda. Hettie shot her a warning look and Esmerelda shrugged.
?The next drink?? asked Hettie, smiling at the fairy barista.
?The Fall Frappuccino!? sang the fairy as she fluttered down to the next item on the menu. ?Made with fallen leaves and an ogre's amount of caramel!?
?Yum,? said Hettie, writing in her notebook. ?And the ratio of leaves to caramel??
?Why, the same as the ratio of unicorn horns to cyclops eyes!? The fairy giggled so hard she appeared to vibrate in the air.
Hettie laughed.
Esmerelda groaned.
?And the last there, fairy?? Hettie asked quickly.
The fairy soared to the final listing on the menu. ?My favorite: our Curled by the Fire!?
?I love a good latte,? said Hettie.
?What's in it?? asked Esmerelda.
?Just a dollop of flames and a dash of apple cider.?
?Why's it your favorite?? asked Hettie.
?Oh, you'll just have to see.? The fairy looked dreamily into the distance and sighed.
?Sounds suspicious,? huffed Esmerelda.
?Sounds magical!? said Hettie. She glared at her witch partner, who glared back.
?And that's it, ladies!? The fairy didn't seem to see the witches' exchange, and she glided back to the register. ?What'll it be??
?We'll try one of each.? Hettie slapped some gold coins on the counter and the cash register popped open. The fairy pointed at the coins and they floated into the drawer.
?Four specials, coming right up!? The barista flew to a spot under the menu--another flap, similar to the one on the front door. This one was labeled ?The Kitchen.?
Hettie sighed when the flap snapped shut after the fairy. ?You're impossible.?
?I'm practical.?
?Whatever. Come on, let's find a seat.? They found a table with two witch-sized couches in the corner by the door.
?Some great stuff for the blog,? said Hettie, scanning her notebook after settling into her couch.
?Sure, if people want to find themselves in a random pumpkin patch, or whatever ?Curled by the Fire' does to you,? grumbled Esmerelda. She crossed her arms.
?I think it's genius.?
?I think it's ridiculous.?
Hettie just shook her head and continued to read through her notes, while Esmerelda impatiently drummed her fingers against the armrest of the couch.
?Four specials, at your service!? called the fairy from the flap under the menu. She whizzed over to the witches and pointed at the table between them. Four mugs suddenly appeared, two filled with orange-colored liquid, one filled with a dark brown froth, and the last filled with a swirl of reds and yellows.
?Yum! Thank you!? Hettie grabbed one of the orange drinks, and Esmerelda gritted her teeth and took the other. She looked at it apprehensively before bringing it to her lips, and almost jumped at the crispness of the apple cider that seemed to fill every inch of her body.
?Mm, pumpkin!? Hettie said. ?I'll only drink half so I don't go off into a pumpkin patch.?
?Very smart, Miss, the closest pumpkin patch is four blocks away,? said the fairy.
?Yes, I don't want??
Hettie's voice began to fade and Esmerelda stared at her in alarm. The green witch still opened her mouth as if she were speaking, but Esmerelda couldn't hear her. She couldn't even hear the whining of her tinnitus.
All she could hear was crackling. It sounded like...like the crackling of a fire.
A warmth washed over her and she couldn't help sighing dreamily. Cozy, Hettie had said earlier. Cozy.
Suddenly, a book popped out of the drink and landed on Esmerelda's lap. She stared at it in surprise. On the cover was a witch sitting at a computer, and the title read ?15 Tips for Bloggers Trying to Make it Big.?
She looked over at Hettie and the fairy, who were smiling at her. She blinked at them. The fairy gestured toward the book and Esmerelda found herself grinning. She couldn't remember the last time she smiled so big.
The witch sank deeper into the couch, opened the book, and basked in the quiet. She began to read as the drink and the crackling fire warmed her.
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