Page 9 of Kiss and Spell
Ursula pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. Breathe in, breathe out.
Earth spirits, aid me in my quest.
She drew a small thread of earth energy from the floor through the bottom of her soles up until it reached her chest. The frustration eased and she refocused on the plant. She ran a finger over the leaves, a small vibration of terra magic tingling her skin. He was a fighter, just like her.
“Don’t worry, Sir Duke,” Ursula said. “I’ll figure out what’s going on. I got you.”
Ursula would have to wait until next payday before she could visit the plant nursery and buy whatever she needed to save it. Until then she’d try and self-diagnosis what was going on with Sir Duke.
“When did life get so expensive?” Ursula muttered.
She went from bougie to broke in the matter of a single weekend. Lincoln skipped town after their non-wedding, leaving her to deal with the fallout of overdue bills and loose ties. Her savings dwindled within a matter of months, forcing Ursula to make a few hard choices about her lifestyle. She couldn’t have champagne taste when she had a strawberry soda budget. So she’d swallowed her pride and sold off her designer bags and couture clothes to a local consignment store in Meadowdale, giving her enough money to move out of their condo apartment. She clipped digital coupons, learned how to make enough soup to last a week, and shopped in bulk.
No more getting her weekly dry cleaning done, but now she had an embarrassingly huge stack of laundry in the bedroom closet. Goodbye tasting menu with her fancy girlfriends; hello scarfing down leftover garlic spaghetti out of a pot on the couch after working an eight-hour shift at the shop. Even more upsetting, the bond with her witchy Caraway family had changed from gleeful Friday night get-togethers to trading awkward texts about moon phases and impending retrogrades. Cousin Sirena had forwarded her slow-cooker recipes, but recently those emails had ceased. If Ursula couldn’t rescue her relationship with her kin just yet, she was at least going to try to have a good night’s sleep.
She moved away from her plant and went over to her bookshelf. Maybe there was a soothing book that would help calm her thoughts. Instead, Ursula found a flat amethyst crystal tucked between her spell books and laughed softly. You said you wanted to reclaim your magic, and the universe answered with a crystal. She had to start with small acts of magic if she was ever going to get her natural intuition back.
Ursula went into her bedroom and slipped the stone underneath her pillow. Maybe tonight would bring her good dreams. Her stomach grumbled. It wouldn’t hurt to have a late-night snack. She went back into the kitchen and pulled out Gwen’s latest food experiment from the fridge. Gwen, who owned the Night Sky Bistro downtown, was always feeding Ursula possible additions to the menu. In turn, Ursula made sure Gwen never ran out of her favorite smoky quartz.
Ursula peered at the item in her hand. It looked as if someone smushed an entire cupcake into a small mason jar. Gwen even included a portable spoon taped with the treat. Ursula closed the door with an impressed laugh. She read the top, curious to know what type of cake she was sampling this week.
The handwritten label said Faery Sprinkle Cake.
Ursula froze for a moment, then she sat down at the kitchen table. She cradled the jar in her palm. Her heart throbbed.
Mama used to make them faery cake to cheer them up on gloomy days.
Nana might have been wary of fae, but Mama loved them. When Ursula was younger, Mama would brew chamomile and lemon tea, make sprinkle cake, and dance around their gossamer capes. They rented books on faery lore from the library and read stories about terrifying queens and alluring princes. She tended to the honeysuckle and thyme that grew in Nana’s garden and hid crystals for the fae to find all over their apartment.
When Mama lost out on an audition or Ursula had a long day at school, they would dress up in glitter, have tea on the living room floor, and invite the fae to drink with them. Dad humored Ursula’s sparkly activities, but he politely declined to wear anything with bows and ribbons. He claimed all those frills messed with his business suit.
Mama understood Ursula’s crystal-loving ways, and for a moment Dad had understood as well. Until his family, the Ellises, insisted that he take a firmer hand with a teenaged Ursula. She overheard their concerns by the cooler at the family cookout. Too lazy. Unfocused. Head in the clouds. Dad, feeling pressured to please his family, chased the dreams from her head and insisted that she make realistic, serious goals. So, she dressed in polo shirts, khaki skirts, and preppy shoes. She got her first student planner and made lists. She typed her full name—Ursula Rebecca Caraway Ellis—on every assignment and paper she handed in to make sure everyone knew that she was serious about her future.
For a brief time, Ursula was the perfect Ellis child, and she was embraced by her aunts, uncles, and cousins on that side of the family. She turned down faery cake and never wore anything covered in glitter or rhinestones. But then her dreams returned and started coming true. Soon, Ursula realized these images were intense visions of the past and future. With a touch of a hand or a kiss on the cheek, she saw all the Ellises’ hopes and fears in living color. It wasn’t that Ursula was too much of a dreamer; it was the Ellises’ kin who lacked courage to follow their dreams. She grieved the fact that her Ellis family seemed too afraid to follow their hearts. Gwen was the exception, but Ursula knew that Dad would work hard to make sure her little sister followed the typical Ellis path to a successful life.
Ursula knew she needed to cut her own path.
So, on her sixteenth birthday, Ursula decided that she was going by Mama’s maiden name from then on. She was an Ellis by birth, but she was a Caraway by good luck.
When she told Dad her decision, he hugged her tightly and looked into her eyes. “I guess can’t deny the magic in you,” he said reluctantly.
Dad gave her his support and even to this day addressed her birthday cards to Ursula Caraway. The Ellises weren’t so forgiving and still gave her major attitude whenever they saw her around town. They seemed to envy her and Mama for embracing their dreams instead of keeping their eyes down on the ground.
Caraways looked to the stars.
Ursula blinked. It was time to reclaim this forgotten magic.
She twisted open the cake jar, grabbed the spoon, and scooped herself a huge bite. The mix of creamy vanilla frosting, sprinkles, and tender cake hit her tongue. Ursula closed her eyes, and she could practically hear the jolly fae laughter and smell pungent tea roses.
A vision of His Royal Highness Xavier Alder standing on the boardwalk flashed in her mind. He looked, with his mysterious eyes and secret smile, like he’d been conjured from the sea mist and sand. No matter what happened on his date tonight, Ursula hoped that he ordered dessert. Everyone deserved a little sweetness in their life.
Chapter Four
One lesson Xavier learned when he was very, very young was never keep a faery godmother waiting. He’d heard of fae children who had been turned into mice because they dared to be late to afternoon tea. Whitney wouldn’t turn him into a mouse, but she wasn’t above shrinking his ears just to teach him some manners. She’d want to hear all about his night, so he made his way back to her house shortly before midnight. The rideshare driver let out an impressed whistle as they drove up to the Gilded Age mansion.
“Are you a celebrity or something?” she asked.
“I’m something,” Xavier responded simply.