The Garden of Magic by Sarah Painter

weakness. Her garden was the closest thing she had to a relationship and her companion sensed that she was failing. Her powers, her body, her mind; they were all breaking down. She was coming to the end and her garden knew it.
    But you’re not at the end. Not yet.
    Still enough energy for tonight. With a spring moon low in the sky and the birds singing out and the sap running through the world.
    Iris fetched a bottle of her good elderflower wine from the pantry. It was a swingtop with a ceramic stopper and she popped the lid and took a slug straight from the bottle. It was delicious so she had another nip and then added the powder to the bottle, tipping it carefully with the aid of a small plastic funnel, and fixing the stopper. She swirled the liquid in the bottle until the powder disappeared and put the bottle and a few plastic cups into a bag. The less you had to ask people to provide, the better, and Iris was always well prepared. If she hadn’t been a witch, she’d have made a marvellous girl scout.
    ***
    Bex was still standing on the street outside Jon’s house, unable to walk away. She took a deep breath. Maybe she should just tell him how she felt? She could knock on the door and, when he opened it, say: ‘I want to be more than friends and it’s killing me.’
    No.
    Bex’s insides had gone liquid at the thought. Besides, it would only cause heartache and embarrassment. Bex wasn’t a fool and she’d had boyfriends in the past. You could tell when there was a spark, when someone was attracted to you. If Jon felt the same way, he’d have shown some sign by now. Bex imagined Jon’s expression if she declared her feelings; horror, quickly followed by deep discomfort. Pity.
    ‘Are you going to stand there all night?’
    The voice seemed to be right next to Bex’s ear and she jumped, looking around the previously deserted road.
    Iris Harper was standing a few feet away, leaning on a stick. She had a bulky bag slung across her body and her coat was buttoned up to the neck, even though it was a warm night.
    ‘You startled me.’
    ‘You’re a very nervous person,’ Iris said. ‘I’ve got a good tonic for that.’
    ‘Were you looking for me?’ Frankly, Bex was amazed to see Iris up and about after yesterday. She was a tough old bird, that was for sure.
    ‘I thought we could visit your erstwhile employers. Together.’
    ‘I don’t think it will help,’ Bex said. ‘Thanks, though.’
    Iris smiled. ‘Humour a tough old bird.’
    Bex fell into step with Iris. ‘It won’t do any good,’ she said. ‘They won’t listen.’
    ‘You’re too young to be so defeatist,’ Iris said. ‘Block Despair for as long as possible. If you let it in, you invite its friends, Apathy, Anger and Ague.’
    Bex stomped on the urge to tell Iris not to speak to her like a fortune cookie. ‘Mr Farrier has really got it in for me.’
    ‘And why is that?’
    Bex shook her head. ‘No reason. I don’t know.’
    ‘Lying is a very bad habit, you know,’ Iris said. ‘Especially to me.’
    ‘It’s not important,’ Bex said. She felt stupid for protecting the man who was accusing her of theft, but she knew what it was like to have your bad behaviour aired in public. She still felt the slap of shame whenever she thought about that horrible time. Only Nicola had stood by her, supporting her through her day in court and not listening when their other friends called Bex a pikey and a loser, whispering and laughing behind her back. Bex was in the right here, she knew, but she didn’t feel qualified to dispense judgement. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d given up that right on the day she’d decided to take something that wasn’t hers, stressing out her parents so badly that she’d hammered the final nail in their divorce.
    ‘I wouldn’t be helping you if you didn’t deserve it, you know,’ Iris said. She was looking at Bex as if she could see right into her heart.
    ‘What are you going to do?’ Bex managed