Looking to the next shelf, she noted that the reed flutes she had seen earlier played a tune that allowed you to get rid of rats, and that the reading glasses’ display claimed that they would allow you to see through any disguise. The potions named “Love Potions and Bedazzling Elixers” were all different shades of pink, which didn’t surprise her at all.

“So, if I gave this to someone it would make them love me?” Alice held up one of the bottles and Azura looked up sharply from the till, perhaps catching a whisper of something in her voice.

            “It would indeed, but it wouldn’t be real love - they would be besotted for a short length of time, and then they would go back to normal.”

            Alice put the potion back, feeling her face color a little. “Why are they different shades of pink?”

            “Depending on how strong they are.” Azura’s eyes went back to the till in front of her. “The very faint pink lasts about an hour, the darkest a day.”

            “That’s not very long,” Alice mused.

            “Long love potions are dangerous,” Azura said sharply. “They make people do stupid things. And nobody should be permanently forced to love someone they don’t.”

            “That’s true,” Alice murmured. She wandered back over to the desk to stand beside Azura.          “There aren’t any prices on anything. Why?”

            “You know how high end stores have no price tags?”

             “Sure, because most people would scream and run the other way if they saw the price, but rich people don’t care what it costs.”

            “Threads is the opposite - our prices are so inexpensive that we don’t need price tags. And for some people, when they come along, we like to be able to charge them less.”

            “Like the regular children that come in sometimes?”

            “Precisely.”

            “Why do you call them “regular” anyways? Aren’t they just “non-magical”?”

            Azura looked up at her and Alice saw the hesitation on her face.

            “What?”

             Azura hesitated, “Touching the threads frequently tends to have a prolonging effect on the normal human life span. We aren’t immortal; we just live a few centuries longer then people that don’t touch magic.”

            “Okay,” Alice said slowly. “Okay centuries? What are we talking about here?”

            “Most Witches live well into their hundreds.”

            Alice blinked, astonished. “How old are you?”

            Azura gave her a dry smile. “My dear, that question is commonly considered rude.”

            Alice nearly felt bad, until she saw the other woman crack a smile.

            “I’m one hundred fifty three years old. Do you need to sit down?” She said in the same breath, as Alice seized the edge of the counter with both hands.

            “What?”

            “The wrinkle cream really does help,” Azura joked, and then, because Alice wasn’t laughing, she added, “Oh dear, I’m sorry. I should have told you before.”

            “But…what does that mean? How…does that mean I can’t be in a normal relationship because I won’t get old?”

            “Hardly,” Azura said. “It would be different if we really were immortal, but we’re not. You will still age to a certain point. I look…what…fifty to you?”

            “A well preserved fifty.” Alice admitted.

            “Yes, so it’s usually subtle enough for people to ignore. Aside from the occasional accusations about using Botox, my relatives never caught on.”

            “What about when you were all in your nineties?” Alice demanded. “Didn’t they notice you still looked fifty?”

            Azura shrugged. “I said had a facelift.”

            “But what if I have kids? They’ll know I’m not aging normally.”

            “They might be magic as well. Or some Witches just put a glamour on when they’re around relatives, just to look a bit older.”

            “What’s a glamour?”

            “Simple magic that makes you look subtly different.”

            “I guess it does guarantee that your husband will die before you though.”

            “It does,” Azura agreed. “Luckily I have no such thing as a husband to worry about, and I don’t plan on getting one. However, if you marry someone who uses magic you’ll be fine.”

            “Ah,” Alice said. “And how does that work?  Is there magical speed dating or a website or something?”

            Azura chuckled. “No, nothing so contrived as that. There are parties though, and gatherings. There are quite a few covens in Vancouver, or if the bar scene is more your type of thing, I can name a few pubs and such that cater to a special sort of group.”

            “Really?” Alice’s eyes widened with interest. “You mean there are entire clubs that just let magic people in and no one else?”

            “There are, yes.” Azura nodded. “Very exclusive some of them.”

            “That sounds sort of neat. And what’s a Coven?”

            “Like a club for Witches. Maybe in the next town I’ll take you to one.”

            “Not here in Victoria?”

            “Victoria’s underground is mostly Vampiric.”

            “Oh.” Alice shivered. “Is that bad?”

            “No, not necessarily, but it’s a different crowd. I don’t think I want you going there when you’re first adjusting to all of this. There are sometimes…incidents, at that sort of place.”

            “I’ll wait then,” she agreed, hastily. “I don’t like the idea of becoming a Vampire snack.”

            Azura chuckled. “I don’t imagine you do. Here, why don’t you go flip the sign over so it says “Welcome”.

Alice walked to the front door and flipped the sign over so the side facing them said “Closed”, feeling thrilled and anxious.

“Time for customers now?”

            “Yes, you can stand behind the desk with me. It will probably be strange for you at first, depending on who comes in. So just relax and let me do all the talking.”

            “Okay.”

            Nobody came for several minutes and the two of them chatted. Azura told her more about magic, explaining how eventually she would be able to take the threads into an object and hold a bit of magic with her when she went somewhere.

            “That way if you are in a spot with no magic, you aren’t completely dry if you need it.”

            “Dry?”

            “Dry, running low, running on empty - they’re all Witch terms for not having enough magic in the immediate area.”

            “Oh.”

            Both women fell silent as the bell above the door rang. Alice stared as one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen entered the shop. The woman was tall and slender.  She wore a deep blue dress that hugged every one of her sleek curves and a soft looking brown leather jacket. She carried herself with an incredible air of confidence and Alice had the sudden, jealous thought that she had probably never been called average in her life.  Her hair was long and blonde, hanging in messy curls half-way down her back. She met Alice’s wide eyes and smiled, as if she was used to constantly being stared at. Her eyes were dark green and framed with long blonde lashes, and Alice wished furiously that her own eyes were an unusual color and not just plain old brown.

            “Good afternoon, Shira,” Azura said.

            “Azura, how are you? And who is this?” The woman called Shira gave Alice another wide smile; Alice found it hard to dislike her, even if her teeth were too straight and white.

            “This is Alice, she’s new.  Alice meet Shira, a regular customer of Threads whenever we’re in Victoria.”

             Shira took Alice’s hand. “Nice to meet you Alice - are you a Witch as well?”

            “Well…” Alice felt her cheeks color a little. “Not really.”

            “Yes you are,” Azura scolded her. “Don’t be modest, you’ve been doing spells all morning. Shira, you would not believe how fast this girl catches on.”

            “Some raw talent, eh?” Shira winked at Alice and released her hand. “Just make sure you keep her well under wraps for the first little while Azura. Don’t want every Wizard and Sorceress within miles crawling all over the store.”

            “Why would they do that?” Alice asked innocently.

            Shira laughed. “You’re fresh meat, girl. They’re either going to be checking you out to see if you’re a threat, or trying to recruit you as a follower.”

            “She already has a place here,” Azura said firmly, “So let them try if they like.”

Shira stopped laughing, “I don’t know Azura, now that Ruby is gone you should be careful…”

            “I’m more than capable,” Azura interrupted the woman. “Thank you for your concern.”

            The blonde woman held up her hands in surrender. “My apologies - I’m sure you are.”

            Alice had been growing more nervous throughout the conversation. “Do you think…is it…dangerous?” Both women turned to look at her. “I mean, do you think anyone would try to attack me or something?”

            “No.” They spoke at the same time, and too hastily, which made Alice even more nervous. In her experience those who denied most loudly often knew they were wrong.

            Shira gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry Alice; I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

            Alice bristled slightly. “I’m not frightened,” she lied. “I just think it would be good to know if there’s any actual danger around.”

            “There is not,” Azura said firmly.

            Shira smiled apologetically and turned to the shelves of merchandise. “Got any strangling scarves in?”

            “We were enchanting some this morning.” Azura walked over to stand next to her, pulling one of the scarves from the shelf. “Something for your little nephew again?”

            Shira grinned. “Yup, Eliot is turning ten this week; he’ll think this is hilarious.”

            The blonde woman grabbed one of the blue scarves and brought it to the counter, and Alice watched as Azura rang the woman through the till, charging her six dollars for the scarf.

            “Thanks ladies. Hope to see Threads here in town again real soon.” Shira tucked the receipt in her pocket and headed for the door. They both said goodbye and waved as Shira departed.

            “She was a Witch too?”  Alice watched as Azura put the money in the till.

            “No, Shira is a Banshee.”

             Alice stared at Azura for a long moment. “That means…” she said slowly, “She knows when you’re going to die?” She hunched her shoulders against a shiver, imaging Shira looking at her with those bright green eyes and seeing the exact moment she was going to die.

            “No, it means she knows the instant before someone is going to die,” Azura corrected her, but Alice didn’t think that was much better.

“And she screams, right? Isn’t that what Banshees are supposed to do?”

            “Normally, yes, although Shira has dealt with her particular…talents, long enough that she is able to control that aspect of it.”

            “So she doesn’t need to do the screaming part?”

            “I’m sure she has the compulsion still. If you could see a picture in your head of the exact way the person in front of you was about to die, no matter how gory or disturbing, wouldn’t you have the urge to scream as well?”

            “Every time,” Alice said earnestly. “Wow, that’s not a nice ‘talent’ to have at all. It must be horrible being a Banshee.”

            “I suppose it has come in handy.” Azura shut the till. “Shira has been able to save quite a few people.”

            “She can stop death from happening?”

            “Sometimes…if I understand her correctly. She doesn’t like to talk about it very often.”

            “That’s understandable.”