We passed through a purple beaded curtain, then through an old wooden door.
Lyn pushed it open, revealing a room with a glass dome that filtered the morning light from outside. Plants lined the entire space, from ceiling to floor, and curled along the walls. Ivies, pothos, peperomias. The air there was fresh, heavy with humidity and an earthy scent.
"Wow. What a stunning place," I murmured, dumbfounded, as I swept my eyes over the room. "I can’t believe you have a greenhouse in the back of the shop."
Lyn smiled faintly as she ran her fingers over the leaves in the pots on the shelves.
"The most powerful magic comes from the earth, little witch. Some plants only bloom under certain phases of the moon. Every root, every leaf, every flower has a purpose. This is where I practice my craft.
