The Price Guide to the Occult

by Leslye Walton

  On wobbly legs, Nor staggered across the room toward the other three, grateful to see that Madge, now unconscious, no longer had her hands around Gage’s throat. She pulled Gage and Charlie to their feet. “We gotta get out of here,” she said. She wasn’t sure if either of them could hear her. Charlie had a dazed look on her face. There was a little blood trickling from one of Gage’s ears. Nor put her hands on either side of his head. His pain erupted into blisters across her already bleeding palms.

  Gage gave her a stunned look. “How did you —” he started.

  Nor pushed him toward the door. “Just go!” she said.

  It was only after they’d left that Nor allowed herself to look back at Madge sprawled across the floor. She wasn’t moving. Nor couldn’t tell if she was breathing, but her eyes were closed. Her face looked almost peaceful. Almost. Nor knew it was likely she’d never see her alive again.

  Nor turned and raced after Charlie and Gage. The glass from the Witching Hour’s broken window crunched under their feet as they ran down Meandering Lane. They leaped into the back of the truck, landing beside a gaping Savvy.

  “Did you hear that noise?” Savvy asked. “What the hell was that? Wait, Nor, what’s wrong with your hands —”

  “Just drive,” Gage ordered.

  Grayson started the engine. The truck launched down Stars-in-Their-Eyes Lane, and Charlie breathed a shaky sigh of relief as Meandering Lane quickly faded into the distance.

  Gage leaned over to examine Nor’s hands. “Here, let me see.” For the first time, when he looked at her, Nor didn’t see resentment in his face but genuine concern. Or maybe it was awe. Either way, it made her uncomfortable. She pulled her hands away from him and examined them herself.

  Scorched skin peeled like ribbons from her fingertips, and her palms were covered with bloody gouges and splinters of glass. Her head started to spin, and the world was slipping away like paint dripping down a canvas.

  “Grayson!” she heard Savvy yell. “Pull over!”

  The truck came to a halt in front of Reuben Finch’s log cabin. Gage reached for Nor, then everything faded to black.

  When Nor came to, she was lying on a patch of grass along the side of the road. A rock dug into her shoulder blade. The clover beneath her head sank tiny claws into her scalp.

  “Best thing is for me to get you all back up to the compound as soon as possible,” said a voice.

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” another voice hurried to say. “We can take ourselves.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “Sir.”

  “Suit yourself. But you know, son, you might not mind having someone between yourself and Dauphine Coldwater.” Nor opened her eyes to see Reuben Finch standing over her, a heavy crease between his unruly eyebrows. “There she is. Welcome back.”

  A bright-blue braid tickled Nor’s face. Savvy leaned in close and whispered, “Don’t worry. You were only out for a few minutes. And you didn’t puke.”

  “Great.” Nor groaned. “Thanks.”

  “What do you say about getting up and inside?” Reuben asked.

  Nor stood up woozily, and Reuben helped her into the house. It had a faint animal smell, both pungent and sweet, that Nor hadn’t noticed the last time she’d been there. They passed through the kitchen and the living room with a large faded couch. Beside it, a framed picture of a little girl hung on the wall.

  “All right, let’s see what you’ve gotten yourself into now,” Reuben said when they reached a washroom in the back of the house. He knelt in front of her. Nor looked away as he examined her ruined hands.

  “These wounds look a lot like something I’ve treated on your grandmother’s hands a few times.” He caught Nor’s eye and chuckled. “Oh yes, I know all about you Blackburn women.” He pulled a pair of surgical tweezers out of a cupboard above the sink. Nor stared at the way the sharp pointed end glinted in the light.

  “Not much more I can do, I’m afraid,” Reuben said after removing the splinters of glass from her hands. He turned on the faucet. “Run some cold water over your hands for a bit.”

  He set the tweezers by the sink and pulled a tin from the cupboard. “It’s gonna hurt like all hell at first, but we’ll put some of this on it. Should at least make the pain tolerable till we can get you to Judd.”

  Nor stuck her hands under the water. He was right. It hurt like hell. After a few minutes, she pulled her hands out, and Reuben gently patted a thick salve across her mangled palms. It smelled of vinegar. Nor’s pain, hot like fire, dulled to a quiet roar.

  “Funny thing though,” Reuben said. “I don’t recollect hearing that you shared Judd’s talents.” He stood. “Red here must be right. I must be getting old.” The little fox waiting for him in the doorway gave an affectionate chirp and followed Reuben out of the room.

  Nor had heard stories of how the pairing of a Blackburn daughter and her Burden might be made. Seeing Reuben with the little fox made Nor wonder if her Burden — her first Burden, that is — had come from her grandfather’s natural gift with animals. Perhaps she was more connected to her grandfather than she had previously thought.

  “He has a good point, you know,” Gage said from the doorway. He’d wiped the blood from the side of his face. “I don’t remember you being able to do a few things I saw today.”

  Shit, Nor thought. She stared down at her hands, the blisters glistening underneath the greasy balm. “I can explain —” she started.

  Gage cut her off. “Since when did you start using black magic?”

  “It’s not black magic!” Nor insisted. “There are things I can do, and I can’t explain why I can do them. I’ve tried to ignore them, but sometimes things just happen.” Nor bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “But it’s not black magic. I’m not my mother.”

  “I never said that you were.”

  Nor looked up, startled. “You believe me?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? You said sometimes it just happens. Like when?”

  Nor thought back to when she’d fought off her mother’s fern. She’d been scared then, just as much as she’d been when she saw Madge’s hands wrapped around Gage’s throat. And she was scared whenever she saw a lie. “I guess it mostly happens when I’m scared,” she said.

  “Have you ever healed anyone before?”

  “A few times,” she admitted. “I’ve never been able to do it on purpose before, though.”

  “And the scream?”

  “I have no idea what that was.”

  “Sounded like the scream of a banshee.” Gage nodded knowingly. “The last Blackburn able to harness that kind of power was Rona.” He leaned against the doorframe. “So what else can you do?”

  “Obviously nothing!” Nor blurted. “I couldn’t save Madge. We barely got out of there alive. And as for that scream, I have no fucking clue where that came from and even less of a clue on how I could manage to do it again! What else can I do? I can’t do anything!”

  Gage stared at her. “And to think, I was almost impressed by you,” he finally said humorlessly. “Word of advice? I wouldn’t go showing just anyone what you can do. Not everyone is as open-minded as I am.”

  He left, and Nor swiped at her wet eyes, her old scars screaming so loudly she could barely hear anything else. According to the myths, a banshee’s scream was an omen of death. The thought that, in this case, it could also be the cause of it was terrifying. She stared at those sharp tweezers on the edge of the sink. It would be so easy to just reach over, grab them, and hoard them in her pocket for later, when she was alone. She used to do that all the time. How many times had she waited until Apothia’s back was turned to filch one of the steak knives from the wall? Nor’s hand moved toward the tweezers. She watched her fingers close around them. She thought about Madge and all the ways she’d already failed today.

  She hurled the tweezers across the room.

  Pike and Sena Crowe leaped from the vehicle as soon as the yellow Jeep pulled up in front of Reuben’s cabin. Pike was bare
ly through the door when he grabbed Gage by the front of his shirt. “What the fuck, Gage? We told you to stay put.”

  “We handled it, okay?” Gage spat, struggling to free himself.

  “Yeah, you handled it all right, cuz. A woman is dead, her business destroyed. Not to mention you put Nor at risk when it’s our job to keep her safe.”

  “Wait, it’s not his fault,” Nor protested. “I was the one who —”

  “No,” Gage interrupted. “He’s right. It was my idea.” He looked at Pike. “You’re just jealous you missed all the action.”

  “You’re a real moron sometimes, you know that? I mean, I knew you were a dumb ass, but you put Nor — and everyone else — in danger today.” Pike glanced at Nor and shook his head. “The fury the Giantess is going to rain down on you.”

  Before they left Reuben Finch’s house, Nor took a last look at the picture of that little girl hanging on the wall. Neglect had clung to Nor like a bad smell back then.

  On the drive back to the compound, she thought of the lumpy sweat-stained mattress she’d shared with her mother; she thought of how incense from the Witching Hour had filled her little room and made her cough. Mostly, however, she thought of Madge.

  Madge hadn’t grown tired of Nor the way Fern often did. Fern had delighted in Nor’s presence one moment and then thought her a pest in the next, like a tiresome puppy. Children, like puppies, required care. Caring for something had never been Fern’s strong suit. Fortunately for Nor, she’d had Madge.

  Madge had given Nor a book of fairy tales for her eighth birthday and read to her sometimes before bed. Madge’s favorite had been the story of a woman determined to rescue her child from the cold clutches of death. It was a story of self-sacrifice and unconditional love, but what Nor remembered most was the illustration of the poor woman crying her eyes out — her eyes literally dropping, like pearls, out of her head and into a great lake. The ending hadn’t been a happy one.

  If only Madge had figured out what Nor had: that a wish for a love like the kind found in fairy tales was a wish that should never be granted. Fairy tales were ugly and gruesome things. Like Rona had, Nor preferred the Greek myths. At least those were meant to be tragic.

  When they reached the compound, they were met by a full-blown typhoon in the shape of Dauphine and Judd.

  “In that head, underneath all that goddamn hair, is there a brain, girlie?” Judd bellowed, pounding her fist against Dauphine’s table.

  Nor slumped in her chair, eyes down. Am I actually supposed to answer that? she thought.

  “And would you like that head to stay above ground,” Judd continued, “or should I call Apothia and tell her to grab a shovel and start digging you a grave?”

  “Now you wait just a minute,” Dauphine interjected. Nor had to hand it to her. The woman barely reached Judd’s midsection when standing, but she was a force to be reckoned with nonetheless. “If I know my grandchildren as well as I think I do, I’m going to assume Nor didn’t act alone.” And she pinned Gage with an icy glare before turning back to Judd. “For that, I assure you, there will be consequences.”

  Nor watched the color drain from Charlie’s face.

  “The girl’s here now,” said Everly, the man in the cowboy hat. “She’s safe. And there’s nowhere safer. Do we agree?” Judd nodded reluctantly. “Then it’s settled,” he determined, and leaned back in his chair. “We just need to make sure she stays here.” He winked at Nor.

  “It is certainly not settled,” Judd boomed.

  “Our family hasn’t lost a Blackburn woman yet, and you know it,” Everly huffed. “Though sometimes at the expense of one of our own.” Gage’s expression, Nor noted, had turned particularly steely at that comment.

  “Judd is well aware of the sacrifices our family has made.” Dauphine fixed her gaze on Nor’s grandmother. “That said, Judd,” she continued, “I think it’s about time you stop being such a pain in my ass and let us do our job. Everly is right. You will all be safer up here with us.”

  Judd folded her arms across her chest. “Fine.”

  Dauphine jumped into action before Judd could change her mind. “Nor, you’ll continue to stay here for the time being. Sena Crowe, please take the Oliveira boys, and —” She peered at Savvy through the jeweled spectacles balanced at the end of her nose. “I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t catch your name?”

  “Savannah Dawson,” Savvy said with a small curtsy. “Guardian of Unwanted Things.”

  The corners of Dauphine’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Sena Crowe, please escort the Oliveira boys and Savannah, Guardian of Unwanted Things, next door. They can stay with you and Charlie for the night. And be sure to tell your mother I apologize for the inconvenience.” She turned to Everly. “I take it you have the rest covered?”

  “No one will get in or out of the compound without one of us knowing about it this time,” Everly asserted. “I can guarantee that.”

  “As for the two of you,” Dauphine said to Charlie and Gage, “clearly my reservations about allowing you to join your cousins were sound.”

  Gage opened his mouth to contest, and she held up a finger. “If I were you, I’d spend most of my time from this point on proving to me that you can be trusted, which will not be an easy task.”

  Gage and Charlie nodded solemnly, and Nor burned with shame. It had been her idea to leave the compound. She should have been the one taking the blame, but when she caught Gage’s eye, he shook his head, and Nor kept her mouth shut.

  Judd reached across the table and took Nor’s hands in hers. “Now,” Judd said, “I got more than a few things back home that need tending to. I’m going to trust that you’ll stay put.” She prodded at Nor’s wounds. Some of the blisters had already crusted over. “You want to tell me what you got into this time?”

  Nor considered telling her grandmother that she seemed to have inherited the healing touch, that Gage’s pain had burned blisters into her skin. Gage had believed her, but what did he know? He’d never seen the effects of black magic like Nor and Judd had. What if Nor could do all these things because there was something bad in her? By telling Judd, she might be forcing her grandmother to confirm what Nor had always feared: that whatever rotten thing that was inside of Fern was inside of Nor as well.

  “I’m not sure,” Nor finally mumbled.

  Judd grunted, and Nor tried not to glance at the purple cloud she’d sent floating into the air. Before she had time to gasp, her pain fell to the table as tiny ice crystals, and the wounds disappeared.

  “This is exciting,” Savvy said as Pike led them through the compound.

  “Savvy,” Nor chided, “you’re staying because they think you’ll be safer here than on the main part of the island. Doesn’t that make you nervous? Don’t you at least want to call and warn your dad?”

  Savvy shrugged and flipped one of her long blue braids over her shoulder. “Nah. He’s a tough old guy.”

  As they passed under the fountain, Savvy stopped to stare at the statue’s impressive physique. “Her breasts are totally perfect,” she said in awe, moving from one side of the fountain to the other. “Look at her nipples. Oh my God, they follow me wherever I go.”

  “Jealous?” Grayson teased.

  Savvy rolled her eyes. “Please. That statue should be jealous of me.”

  “Oh yeah? About what exactly?” Grayson mocked, luridly sizing her up.

  Savvy leaned in, as if she were about to share some great confidence with him. “My nipples are pierced,” she said. The expression on Grayson’s face was priceless.

  “Um — when did you get your nipples pierced?” Nor asked after Grayson had pulled away.

  “What? Oh, I didn’t. I just wanted to shut him up.”

  Nor smiled. “I missed you.”

  Savvy hooked her arm through Nor’s and grinned. “Right back atcha, babe.”

  Nor sighed before collapsing facedown onto the couch in Dauphine’s basement. Bijou, who had been asleep on a pillow, grumbled in anno
yance. “I’m sorry,” Nor muttered.

  Outside, a chilly rain had descended upon the island. Savvy was on the staircase, trying to flirt with Nor’s new personal guard, whose job was apparently to follow Nor everywhere — even, to Nor’s mortification, to the bathroom.

  “Well?” Nor asked as soon as Savvy came into the room. Reed followed quietly behind her, and for one exasperating second, he was all she could see. He’s like gravity, Nor thought. It didn’t matter what else was going on. Looking at him, she understood why the tides were so captivated by the moon. It was ridiculous.

  “Didn’t even say hello,” Savvy replied. Nor’s new guard was far less agreeable than Pike; in fact, he made Sena Crowe look downright amiable. This guy wore a permanent scowl.

  Savvy sighed dramatically and flopped down across the couch. “And I even brought him Red Vines!”

  “That’s not what I’m asking about, and you know it,” Nor said.

  “But don’t worry,” Savvy continued unnecessarily loudly. “I’ve got a plan. I’m bringing him gummy bears tomorrow.” Satisfied, Savvy then leaned in close to Nor and whispered, “Okay, no idea when they’re letting you out. You might have to plan on growing old down here. The only reason we were even able to come over is because we volunteered to get sleeping bags.” She looked around the crowded basement with interest. “There’s supposed to be a bunch down here somewhere.”

  “Be my guest,” Nor said with a sigh. Savvy grinned, and they quickly lost her to the boxes and abandoned furniture piled everywhere.

  Nor and Reed shared a small smile. Nor still couldn’t believe he was here. After everything Reed had heard, everything he’d seen, no one would have blamed him for turning around and running for his life, never giving Nor another thought. But he hadn’t.

  That was something, wasn’t it?

  “I’m guessing you have a lot of questions,” Nor said nervously.

  “Savvy kind of filled me in,” he admitted.

  “So you know that I’m —”

  “A witch?” He chuckled. “Yeah, I know.” He brushed some hair away from her face. “But I already knew there was something special about you.”