A Witch's Guide to Magical Innkeeping

by Sangu Mandanna

Sera had a complicated relationship with Albert Grey, who, in addition to being her instructor, also happened to be Francesca’s father.

“Marvellous work,” Clemmie said to Sera. “I was just thinking this morning that what we really needed in our lives was not a new fireplace or a nice car but, in fact, a resurrected fucking rooster.”

Sera had taken on more and more of the work. And lo, here she was. Exiled witch and cranky innkeeper.

For her, it was a simple matter of “there is a thing I want, so I will go get that thing,” and it was incomprehensible to her that there might be a reason not to.

Meanwhile, across the country, a certain innkeeper was about to discover that when you hold tight to the little magic you find, when years go by and the world loses much of its colour and still you refuse to forget the magic, magic will go out of its way to show you that it remembers you too.

Like his lonely and her lonely fit perfectly into the empty spaces at the other’s side, saying nothing, asking nothing, just keeping each other company.

This is the life I wanted. This life of contentment and unexpected excitement, of little everyday joys, where I don’t just get to be myself but also get to be embraced as myself. It’s miraculous.”

She magicked new parts into her car, gave herself heated seats, and then turned it a bright, joyful lollipop red.