Of Curses and Charms

by Nyx Halliwell

  “That might be more information than I need,” Hopper jokes.

  There’s a box under the paper, and I lift the lid. My breath catches as I see a beautiful metal phoenix pendant on a chain. The eyes are a bright gold, the color of citrine. “It’s beautiful.”

  I hold it up for the others to see, and there’s something in Hopper’s face that alerts me he’s already seen it. Power ebbs and flows from the pendant as I turn it in the light.

  “Wow,” Autumn says, winking at Hopper. “That’s stunning.”

  A thought dawns on me. “Did you make this?”

  He comes to my side of the breakfast bar and wiggles his fingers at the necklace, offering to put it on me. “I might have had a hand in it. Or a small blowtorch, in this case.”

  The metal warms instantly on my skin. I reach up to touch the tiny bird, feeling as if it’s belonged to me all along. My father’s power radiates from it.

  “We made sure to clear it’s energy before Dad wrapped it,” Autumn says.

  All I feel coming from it is our father’s love and protection. “It’s amazing. I love it.”

  “Figured you would,” my sister says. “Dad always knows the right gift at the right time, doesn’t he?”

  It’s true. He’s a shaman and has his own unique set of skills and psychic abilities. I wish we saw him more, but he’s the leader of a small tribe of outcasts and they need him as much as his daughters do.

  Autumn and Sirius head for the door. I follow in order to see them out.

  “I can take the kittens,” she says softly under her breath, “if you need a little… privacy tonight.”

  I glance back at Hopper, who is helping himself to a glass from my cupboard. He looks so at home here.

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” I tell my nosey sister. “But I’ll keep it in mind for future opportunities.”

  She hugs me, laughing softly. “It’s your birthday, Summer. Maybe it’s time you give yourself a gift.”

  As I close the door behind her, I consider taking her words to heart. Back at the breakfast bar, Hopper tastes the wine and makes a face.

  “I warned you,” I say.

  He laughs. “Why didn’t you tell me about your birthday?”

  I finger the pendant, feeling my father’s protective energies flying around me. “It appears you’re already in the know.”

  “Your dad asked if I could make something for him. I had no idea it’d be something as tiny as a piece of jewelry, but I’m always up for a challenge. He didn’t tell me it was a birthday gift. I was supposed to have another day or two to work on it, but he showed up at my shop last night, insisting I finish it right away. He said you needed it.”

  Winter probably talked to Dad and told him about Kaan and the black magick. Either that, or he was on one of his shamanic quests and saw I needed extra protection. “He’s an awesome father in many ways.”

  Hopper goes back to his tea, but I can tell it doesn’t taste right after the lingering flavor of the wine. “He doesn’t say much, does he?”

  If he only knew. I laugh and sit down to tell Hopper a few more stories about my family.

  10

  The next morning, I wake to find five small bodies nestled against me in my bed. After Hopper left, they only woke once before dawn to be fed and went back to sleep with ease. It was hard to say good-bye to Hopper but having the kittens helped. As I prepared for bed, I couldn’t decide whether to be happy or contrite with myself. He and I are so good together, but I still feel like I might be misleading him.

  Destiny is a funny thing. If he was supposed to end up with the woman in my vision, creating a family with her, was he still “available” to have a fling with me?

  Bringing the kittens, I leave my cabin, after feeding Cinders and making my morning offering to Hestia. I say an extra prayer to my mom asking for her guidance with my new relationship. Even if Hopper is the man for me, I must brace myself for heartbreak, from the vision I had at Beltane.

  The morning is clear after the storms, the smell of pine trees surrounding my cabin strong. The path winding past my sisters’ cabins to Conjure is covered with branches and flowers strewn across it from last night’s winds. While the sun is warm, everything is still wet.

  Inside the shop’s kitchen, I find my sisters sharing cups of tea and coffee, along with fresh muffins from the oven. They look at me over the edges of their cups with sly smiles as they greet the kittens.

  “Long night?” Spring asks with a grin. She hands me a glass of lavender lemonade—one of my favorites.

  I accept it and enjoy the iced liquid as it goes down my throat. She’s added a smidge of honey, gathered from our new beehives, and it tastes extra delicious. “Why do you ask?”

  Winter scratches Vivaldi’s head. “What time did Hopper leave?”

  I give her my most innocent look. “Around midnight, why?”

  Spring and Autumn giggle, sounding like girls. I glance between all three. “What?”

  I know what they’re hinting at, but I refuse to play along.

  “It’s good to see the two of you together,” Autumn says. “He makes you happy.”

  He does that. “Don’t read too much into it. He’s helping with the kittens, that’s all.”

  Spring chuckles. “Have you done their birth charts to see if they’re compatible, Autumn?”

  She puts a finger to her lips as if she’s in on the joke and has already checked them. “It’s pretty clear they’re a good match.”

  Winter rolls her eyes. “Hopper’s doing more than helping you with the kittens, and you can quit pretending we don’t know.”

  “I really shouldn’t get involved with him.”

  Autumn tsks. “Why not? You’re still hung up on that vision, aren’t you?”

  At the beginning of the summer, I had a lot of hope for the coming season and my relationship with Hopper. But the night at the Beltane celebration, everything changed.

  He was about the age he is now, and the mere fact he appeared unaged makes me believe his impending marriage will be sooner rather than later.

  And there’s nothing I can do about it.

  At least beyond what I’ve thought about. Confession number three—I’m a charm caster.

  I’ve considered casting three different charms on him. Messing with fate is dangerous territory, and so far, I’ve resisted doing anything more than putting protection spells on him.

  Winter sees the sad look on my face and grabs my arm. “Have you had another?”

  I shake my head.

  Autumn picks up Beethoven and cuddles him close, her features worried as she glances at me. “Not even when he kissed you?”

  “How do you know…?” I leave the sentence hanging because duh, there’s not much I can keep from my sisters. Of course, they know, but I eye Winter suspiciously anyway. “You weren’t sneaking around my cabin last night, were you?”

  One of her strongest abilities is her invisibility spells. She’s a master at it, and I suspect she uses it more than the rest of us know. Not because she’s nosey, per se, but she believes it’s her duty to protect our family. She also doesn’t like us to know how much she worries, so she uses her magick to check on us. It’s sort of her way of being our mother now.

  She grins, but not because I’ve caught her. “None of us need to be psychic, nor do I need to sneak around and catch you and Hopper in the act, to see how much you’re in love with him.”

  “And him with you,” Spring adds.

  “I’m not in love with Hopper Caldwell,” I argue, even though it’s a lie, something I never do to my sisters because I have no reason to. Of course, they’ll know, but it goes deeper than that. So, it surprises me when I don’t tell them the truth, but my relationship with Hopper feels too new, too fragile. I want to keep it all to myself a while longer.

  Winter snorts derisively. “Oh please. Enjoy it, Summer. You deserve happiness.”

  It’s not that simple. “Do you think my vision a
bout him might be wrong now? That something has changed in the timeline and he won’t marry someone else?”

  “If you haven’t received any more hits about it,” Autumn says, “it could be because it has changed. You shouldn’t hold back because of one vision. Like Winter said, enjoy what you have with him right now. Trying to control what might happen in the future is out of our hands.”

  Harm none. I look at my feet and shuffle them a bit. “I know, but there’s also the fact that even if he’s not going to die anytime soon, if he does want a serious relationship—love, marriage, and kids—I’m not the girl for him.”

  “Wow, you are serious,” Winter exclaims with a smile. “You also worry too much.”

  “Look who’s calling the cauldron black,” I say, but return the smile, so she knows I’m joking.

  “I’m the oldest, it’s my job.”

  No joking there. My turn to roll my eyes. “We all deserve happiness, Winter.”

  The phone rings and Spring goes out front to answer it. I dig into a muffin and watch Winter feed the kittens, my brain turning things over and over.

  “That was Mrs. Sorensen,” Spring says when she comes back. “She wants to know if you and your ‘handsome friend’ can bring spring water again this week. She said the last dose revived her quite a bit.”

  I swallow the last bite and nod. “Did she have a day in mind? My schedule is packed today.”

  “She said to make it at your convenience. She’s so nice.”

  “Is there anything we can help you with to free up your schedule?” Autumn asks.

  “I can handle the blog,” Winter volunteers.

  Autumn nods. “I can take your energy clients.”

  She’s a Reiki Master and well versed in the chakra system. “That’d be very helpful. I’ll call my clients and let them know you’ll be handling them. Thanks.”

  “Do you think Hopper can help with the water?” Spring asks with a wink. “Seems like his visit helped Mrs. Sorensen feel better as well.”

  I can’t keep the grin off my face. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  Spring reaches out to finger my new necklace from Dad. “This turned out beautifully.”

  I slept with it on last night, and I’m sure that, along with the kittens and residual energy from Hopper, helped me sleep deeper than I have in days. “Absolutely. I feel like Dad is with me all the time now.”

  “Have you decided on a theme?” Autumn asks.

  Normally, they throw a small party for me, inviting a bunch of my friends. Last year, we did a mermaid theme. The year before that was the sixties, the four of us dressing like the Beatles.

  The parties are totally a blast, but this year, the day feels different as I approach twenty-five. I actually thought I’d be happily married by now and traveling the world with my husband. Life had other plans.

  But I’m not unhappy living here with the three of them and running the shop. I see by their faces they want to have a party because we always have so much fun. Since Mom’s death last fall, fun hasn’t been on our agendas much. “How about a fairy theme? Summer solstice is a high holiday for them.”

  Spring squeals, Autumn smiles, and Winter nods approval.

  “This is going to be so fun!” Spring does a little dance. “We’ll string lights in the garden, have a fortune teller, play tambourines and banjoes. I’ll get Hale and Storm to help.”

  Hale is our shop handyman, and Storm is Spring’s best friend. The two finally got together at Beltane, and they’ve been inseparable since.

  Autumn returns Beethoven to the box and picks up Chopin. “I’ll start sending invites.”

  “You know, I bet Hale can find us an old wagon to decorate,” Winter says.

  Hale has the ability to either build or find whatever we need, whenever we need it. That’s its own kind of magick, in my book.

  “What kind of food should we have?” Spring goes behind her counter and starts opening recipe books.

  I’m thinking about food, fairy wings, and how I’m going to braid my hair, when suddenly my vision of Beltane imposes itself over the kitchen around us. I want to be happy, but I see Hopper with his son, pushing him in the swing and smiling at the woman whose face I can’t see.

  It’s hard to look forward to my birthday with that weighing down my heart.

  11

  As if I’ve brought it on myself, the vision grows stronger, shifting. It’s not the one from Beltane anymore. This is fresh, showing me Hopper, lying on the floor of his shop, eyes vacant. My skin prickles with icicles. Black magick.

  “No!” I scream.

  As if in a vacuum, I hear someone call my name. “Summer!”

  Winter is shaking me. “It’s okay. We’re here.”

  I come out of it with a jerk, my head spinning, my words tripping over themselves. “Hopper…black magick…wizard…”

  My sisters help me into a chair. Spring brings a bottle of orange and frankincense and waves the oils under my nose.

  The biting scent clears my brain fog. Autumn hands me my cup of tea and insists I drink. I accept it, but my hands shake so bad, some of the liquid slips over the edge and spills on me. She takes the cup and sets it back on the table as Winter kneels in front of me.

  “Deep breath, sister. Tell us what you saw.”

  The kittens mewl frantically from the commotion. My head continues to swim, and I blink, focusing on the table. “I need to get to Hopper. Fontaine—I think he’s at the shop—I couldn’t tell. But I know Hopper’s in danger—Fontaine’s going to kill him.”

  My sisters exchange glances and Winter rises, pulling me up with her. “I’ll take her.”

  Autumn nods. “I’m coming, too.”

  “I’ll have to stay, take care of the shop and kittens,” Spring says. “If you need me, call.”

  My older two sisters hustle me to the parking lot where we jump into Winter’s VW Bug. “Hurry,” I say, pulse racing.

  What if we’re too late?

  We tear out and head north on the highway, flying past slower vehicles, as Autumn and Winter discuss how to handle the dark wizard if he’s still there.

  “We should’ve brought Spring.” I worry my necklace. “She could have frozen him and then we could…”

  I don’t say it, but I know my sisters read my mind. It’s wrong to take someone’s life, but at this moment I’m prepared to do it if it means saving Hopper.

  “I can cloak us so he can’t see us,” Winter says. “What do you think, Autumn?”

  “Cloak Summer. I can’t use telekinesis or astral travel if I’m invisible. We might need both.”

  It seems too far, the few miles to Hopper’s shop. It feels like a lifetime.

  We pull in, tires screaming and kicking up rocks. The shop is dark, no cars out front. He doesn’t open until eleven most days, so that shouldn’t be a surprise, and yet I worry that somehow, he opened early and the black magick has already killed him.

  I rush to the front door and notice the closed sign. I bang on the frame with my fist, “Hopper! Hopper, are you in there?”

  When I get no answer, I cup my hands around my eyes to peer into the glass, my focus going to the place where I saw his body in the vision.

  It’s not there.

  For a heartbeat, I feel relief, but what if Fontaine simply moved him?

  Winter and Autumn come up behind me. “Is he in there?” Winter asks.

  “I can’t see him.” I bang again and yell for him. “Please, don’t let us be too late,” I pray to Hestia, and any other god or goddess who might be listening.

  Autumn and Winter fan out, looking through the large windows on either side.

  “I’m going around back,” I tell them.

  I take off, nearly twisting my ankle in the rocks. There’s a long drive along the side of the house that leads to the rear, and I see Hopper’s truck, along with his moving van.

  I run up the stairs to the porch and repeat my banging and calling on the back door. I see no signs of the
wizard, feel no black magick prickling my skin, but I’m still in such a state I’m practically sobbing.

  Jiggling the door handle, I find it open, nearly falling into Hopper’s kitchen. His store is laid out much like ours, the shop in the front with living quarters in the back. He also has an upstairs, which I assume contains his bed and bath.

  The coffee maker is on a timer and starts to brew as I blow through the kitchen, past a side room and toward the front. I unlock it and let my sisters in. “I can’t find him.”

  Sunlight spills through the plate glass windows, illuminating most of the shop. Frantically, I scan in all directions, behind bureaus, over the top of a large sofa.

  Winter and Autumn do the same. I can tell by Winter’s body language there is a spirit here, maybe more than one, attached to some of the items. She works hard to ignore them.

  I start to run back to the kitchen, the smell of brewing coffee filtering through the rooms, but pause a moment in the doorway. Hopper stood here in my vision looking at the person who came through the door. It had to be Fontaine.

  I work to conjure the vision once more, hoping to see the man’s face. I concentrate, tuning out my sisters.

  I get nothing, not even a hint of black magick.

  My phoenix heats against my skin so hot it nearly burns. I feel a presence behind me, and I whirl, throwing my hands out ready to go on the defense.

  “Summer?”

  I’m looking at an alive Hopper, whose wet hair is combed back from his face. The scent of his soap and shampoo washes over me.

  Reality hits so hard my knees go weak. I start to drop and he reaches out to grab me. “What’s wrong?”

  The sound of his baritone voice brings up a fresh sob and I fall into his chest, gripping his shirt in both hands. “Oh, thank the goddess. You’re okay.”

  I sense his confusion as one arm wraps around me. “Of course, I am. What’s going on?”

  I hesitate, drawing back and wondering if I should divulge what I saw. How can I? Then I might have to explain the Beltane vision and how I can see the future at times. That’s definitely not a discussion I want to have at the moment. You don’t just tell someone you’ve seen their death.