Magical Beastly Botanics and Altered Potions

Lainey Roberts curled her lip in stilled satisfaction as the moon lit against her eyes, pooling a reflection that wasn’t her own. She wasn’t supposed to be out at this hour of night but she couldn’t help it. She had to see for herself what the plants were doing as she peered through the glass of her latest customers home. Sure enough, Mrs. Jennings had put her prized Fiddlewood on the northeast side of her house in the largest bay-window on the block, turning the plant to face the moon. Just as Lainey had requested.

“Damn plant isn’t moving,” Lainey hissed as she waited nervously in the bushes, fixated on the motionless plant. Naturally, it would have been far easier for Lainey Roberts to have just simply bought her own plant and set it out in a window under direct moon light, but she had and nothing remarkable ever happened. Lainey simply chalked it up to bad timing, or lack of water. Maybe the plant was broken, or boring, or uncharmed—as they say.

“You have to feed the plant, my dearest Lainey. Can’t expect any magic to happen without the proper care.”

Artie Coleman—the shop owner fussed, pruning a handful of guarded gallberries as he patted another bowl filled to the brim with more magical seed growing satchels. “Same hell, two very, very different demons,” he whispered quietly to himself.

“These aren’t just any old seed growing serums your grandmother might have used, no, this here is magic…. but shhh!!! Don’t you go telling the customer that.”

Lainey eyed the large bowl of single-serve satchels with their plain “seed-grow” label imprinted on each packet. They were being sold for a dollar-fifty and she began to wonder. Customers thought it a bargain to buy these little satchels with their coffees, wholly unaware of the magic they were spreading around town.

“Pick one up for yourself, on the house.” Mr. Coleman whispered, his eyes glimmering with mischief as he handed Lainey a few of his homemade seed-growing magic.

“See what happens with this. Just a dab will do.”

Lainey shoved the plastic satchel into her apron pocket for safekeeping. She knew better than to take something made in a Magistrate Protected Emporium, but she couldn’t resist. Her mom had warned her of such bad practices. Nevertheless, Lainey wondered, what was the worst that could happen. After-all, the entire street was plucked out of another world, mixed in with all the common folk and no regulations were required because no rules were being broken—or so they said.

“My dear, dear, dearest Lainey,” Mr. Coleman had addled on one Saturday morning when they were particularly busy. “You know as long as I don’t label these things with anything related to the word magic, or promise to cure anything uncurable, we are golden.”

Lainey looked out the shop window, spraying a concoction of witch-hazel and smashed wind-roots on the window. It’s woodsy, floral notes mixed pleasantly with the latest batch of wild-rose and spiced chocolate cold-brew. Each shop for the magically non-magically inclined on this small cobblestone lined street were protected— Anglebird’s Tiniest of Tiny Homes, Swifts Minute Magic, Spotless Sorcery, Fawn-the-Block Beastly Groomers, Leudwig’s Trusted Treasure Lore, Eolove’s Acclaimed Refreshments amidst a few other odds-and-ends.

Charming Creatures Coffee, Cloaks and Botany—Artie Coleman’s most treasured possession had been open for centuries and was filled to the brim with all different sized and shaped plants. It was practically a living, breathing, walking jungle. In fact, it was the oldest operating magic shop on this side of the world. He bragged about the notion that even non-magical folk would pride themselves on their roving plants. Completely unaware of what really was going on.

“The magic…it’s beautiful.”

Artie Colemans booming voice hummed over the whirl of the espresso bean grinder. “Don’t forget to hand them a to-go plant with their coffee, definitely upsell them a satchel. We need more plants thriving in this world. Mr. Orenthall, you could use some more potting soil, grab a small cup there and put the seed growing mix in. I promise, you will love it and your plant will too.”

Magic was known to exist alongside our own mundane, ordinary things. That is what Mr. Coleman always made sure to convey. For being such a strange, little man, he was quite knowledgeable about all things magic when it came to plants. “They are the eyes to the world, knowing what goes on below the surface of our beloved Earth as well as what we can’t see around us.”

His arms swirled, swatting at the grandeur of what Lainey could only imagine—air—to look like.

She didn’t have much more time to ponder this as a customer came scrambling in through the front doors, the bell barely clambering as she shoved through the growing line of customers. “The plants, they come alive…I swear they do…” she screeched, each word breathless and ragged. Her eyes were puffed up to the size of dinner saucers. Clearly, she hadn’t slept a wink.

It was apparent she had awoken to find her suckling petunias crawling out of the pot, chasing after a wayward spider and had all but brought the plant and its uprooted pot back into “Charming Creatures Coffee, Cloaks and Botany” where she’d thrown it across the counter shrieking before rushing back out to her still-running car.

“I swear Lainey, it’s just a bit of morally grey magic, all a big misunderstanding. Customers need some help with their plants. They are creatures themselves after all. Besides, what harm does a bit of unintentional magic do? Probably saved her from being bitten by that hideous spider. Sometimes a little extra eight-legged protein does plants good. It isn’t like the plant will eat her.”

He scoffed, making a disgusted face. His nose wrinkling up at the idea of any one of his precious plants nibbling at such an unworthy customer.

“I cultivate them myself, cutting each leaf and dead-spot, picking the soil, giving them life, setting their charms, talking to them. They are different, each with a personality all their own. I am rather fond of that. You should know, I picked out the perfect plant for you, just need to give it a few drops of the seed-grow.”

Lainey rolled her eyes. This was the second customer this week who had completely freaked out.

“We can’t keep having mishaps like this,” she replied, scooping up the remains of the suckling petunia.

“You might as well take this home, dear, won’t be able to re-sell her. She’s special that one.”

Lainey reattached the roots to a new pot of fresh soil, adding a dollop of the seed growth in with the water.

“Just set her out under the moonlight and all her magic will reveal itself.”

Lainey Roberts smiled as a soft hush fell over the coffee shop. It was nearing closing time and shades of crystalline pink danced through the stained-glass transoms over the windows. She dusted remnants of soil and coffee beans from her apron as the faint shimmering whisper of the shops’ enchanted foliage began to stir. At closing time, these potted beauties would wake from their restful slumber. A few who were considered night-owls stirred about during the day, mingling with customers, tickling small children and pulling dog-tails. But as night set upon them, slender stalks of aloe, bushy ferns and curious blossoms stretched their petals towards the hanging hooks above. Dusting the shelves, dancing along the burnt orange tiles and roaming about the shelves. A few would repot themselves in random unground coffee beans if they were feeling particularly devious.

Artie Coleman quickly locked the door once the last customer was out of sight, then slipped eagerly behind the counter to pull out a large spray bottle of his magical-seed-growth concoction in preparation for the plants nightly feeding.

“I have to ensure these babies get their proper nutrients. If you listen close, you can hear their heartbeats. Make sure you give your petunias lots of love. Hold them close when you go home tonight. they must’ve had a frightful evening.”

Curious, Lainey picked the pot of muddled petunias up from their place on the counter, having almost forgot about them. Artie Coleman had already wrapped them in a damp cheesecloth and dusted their petals of any remaining debris. Lainey cradled the enchanted plant tightly against her chest. Swearing she could, in fact, hear a faint beating sound as the flower buds nestled closer to her skin, tickling her chin. Lainey’s eyes widened, this must’ve been what the customer had been harping about. It was alarming to feel a plant come to life in your arms.

The moonlight in the shop was blaring, fully illuminating the shop by the time Artie and Lainey had finished their nightly incantations. Each plant was bathed, dried and fed. A few were heaving with sleep as they snored quietly in the corner. Others were tangled about, finding trouble before the shop opened again.

It was nearly midnight by the time Lainey made it home to her small attic apartment. She lived in a set of crooked, rundown townhomes a few blocks from the coffee shop. She had barely gotten to her front door when the plant tensed in her arms. A gentle rustle of leaves tickled the pavement behind them and Lainey swore they too were alive. The petunias snaked up over Lainey’s shoulder. She paused, a lump of nerves settling in the back of her throat as the streetlamps overhead began to flicker and the potted container grew hotter with each passing second. Midnight was approaching and Lainey had no idea what would happen next.

Lainey’s heart pounded desperately within the confines of her chest, rivaling that of the plant. Who—by that point—had reached boiling temperatures. She swore the plant was stealing the very breath from her lungs. The pistil showed what looked like thousands of tiny teeth, all focused on her, or whatever it was behind her.

“Put the plant down, drop it.”

Lainey spun around to see Artie Coleman’s familiar face standing feet from her as she stumbled backwards and a sharp crack sounded through the otherwise silent night. The ceramic pot and its contents shattered at her feet as the dried-up petunia buds erupted into purplish-blue embers, crawling out of the soil and scurrying off into the nearby rocks. Her pulse quickened, she knelt down to inspect the plant further, but was swatted back by Artie Coleman.

“The leaves withered into veinless bugs, their magic is dying,” he started, hesitantly.

“Are you alright? Leave the plant alone, don’t touch them. We have to get back to the shop before our magic is unable to work, the plants are in trouble.”

Lainey bit her lip, her eyes squinting curiously back towards Artie Coleman as he charged back down the street towards the coffee shop empty handed. She had seen this before, once, in a forbidden chapter on misused magic—a warning of disfigurement caused by careless charms. Especially in households where magic is not used, or not properly maintained.

Lainey reached back into her apron pocket where she kept her wand and pulled it out. If any there was a time for magic, this was it.

As she rounded the street corner, it soon became apparent their little wands and measly bed-time-incantation charms wouldn’t be enough. The pots all lie still, unmoving and broken. Tendrils of waxy leaves the size of coat racks hung, towering over them. The windows of the shop lie in pieces of splintered glass while wayward vines scuttled down the sidewalks in reckless abandon looking for something or someone to feast upon. The moon had been unusually bright this night and from the outside looking in, it appeared the shop was alive.

Lainey gripped tightly to her wand as a nearby Brimming Willow batted a branch towards her head in one fell swift move, knocking the wand from her hand. She swore the plant whispered her name as the glow extinguished from her wand and a posse of Nightblooming Winter Blossoms inched closer threatening to steal the splintered pieces of her sanity. It soon became readily apparent that all the plants were alive.

Artie Coleman's voice boomed in the background, pleading desperately with each of his beloved plants. "After all I have done for you, this is how you repay me. C'mon, Haddie, Melody, Arthur Junior...don't do this..."