Southern Conjuring (Sweet Tea Witch Mysteries Book 13)

by Amy Boyles

  Betty, my cousins and I, along with Hugo and Flower, headed back to the house. CJ and Sylvia promised to come by later, closer to dark.

  When we arrived, I steered Betty to the dining room table and sat her down.

  “I’ll make lunch,” Cordelia said.

  “No, you won’t,” I said. “I’ll do it. I need time to think.”

  Cordelia looked surprised that I would snap at her, but she did as I commanded.

  I made a quick meal of chicken salad sandwiches and chips and brought it out for my family.

  I settled the tray down and exhaled deeply. “We set Snow’s house on fire.”

  Betty’s eyes widened. “You did what?”

  “Yep,” Amelia chirped. “But it was an accident.”

  Betty dropped her face into her hands. “Now we have nothing to go on.”

  “That isn’t true.” I sat and plated sandwiches and a handful of chips for each of us. “We found Sticky Stuff.”

  Amelia nodded enthusiastically. “Which means that Snow could’ve thrown the spell onto Pepper herself.”

  I nodded toward Flower, who sat at my feet, her large eyes begging for scraps. I handed her a wedge of sandwich. “And Flower said that in Forbes’s house there’s a list with everyone’s name. Snow and Saltz were already marked off. Forbes’s name wasn’t on it.”

  “I say we torture it out of him,” Betty said. “Put a feather to his feet. Make him laugh. That man hates to laugh. We get him to do that and he just might spill the beans.”

  “But he wants us to find the spell,” Cordelia argued. She paused. “How did it go?”

  I racked my brain. “Sprite of blight—was that it?”

  “Yes,” Cordelia exclaimed. “That’s how it started. I’ll be darned if I don’t stop this thing.”

  Betty shot her a confused look. “You?”

  “Yes.” Cordelia stared at the table as dots of pink flared on her cheeks. “This whole thing is my fault. I demanded Amelia get rid of those mason jars because I had a date with Garrick. I’m the one who forced Pepper and Amelia to work the spell. If it hadn’t been for me, none of this would’ve happened.”

  Betty shook her head. “I told Amelia I wanted the jars gone, too. Amelia, where are the jars?”

  My cousin finished crunching a chip. “I got Erasmus to magic most of them away, given the situation. I still have a few I’m holding onto to clean.”

  Betty rubbed her chin. “For all I know someone had been planning this for years and only waiting until now for the time to be right. We’re all old—well, I’m old and so is Forbes. Someone’s final revenge on us for things we did when we were stupid. I would say young, but I wasn’t young at the time, either.”

  Amelia blew out a shot of air. “Betty, I don’t think you were ever young.”

  Betty scowled at her before turning her attention back to Cordelia. She squeezed Cordelia’s arm. “You are not to blame.”

  My cousin clasped a hand over Betty’s. “But I am. It’s nice of you to try to be my grandmother and save me, but there’s no saving this. I’m impatient, snarky and just plain rude sometimes. If I hadn’t been so selfish, I wouldn’t have called the magic eater here to begin with. Pepper didn’t want to work the spell.”

  Cordelia’s gaze flickered to each of us in turn. “I’m sorry.”

  “We will make this right,” I said.

  “How?” Cordelia said. “It’s because of me that two people are dead. Two. I can’t forgive myself for that.”

  My gaze darted from Cordelia to Amelia, whose neck was flushed a deep shade of red, to Betty, whose lips were in a taut line.

  They were thinking exactly what I was—how could Cordelia make it up? How was it possible to bring back people from the dead?

  “You didn’t kill them,” Betty said. “Erebus did. Erebus sucked them dry. Not because of you but because of someone else.” She paused to make sure her words sank in. “Now. Let’s return to the spell. What were the words?”

  “Sprite of blight,” I whispered. “Sprite of sprite?”

  Cordelia nodded. “Something like that.”

  Betty frowned. “Are y’all sure?”

  Suddenly Flower jumped onto the table. “Don’t y’all think we should go to Forbes’s house? Because I am super confident that he is absolutely guilty.”

  Betty flicked her hand toward the possum. “Maybe in a little bit. I’m trying to think.”

  She mumbled the words. So did I, and it was in that exact moment that a lightbulb went off in my head. I saw that the same thing happened to Betty.

  “Sprite of blight,” we said in unison.

  “Oh my word,” Betty said.

  Flower stood on her hind legs and pointed with her little fingers. “Forbes is evil. I just know it. I feel it in my soul. We need to get him because he’s the one involved.”

  I ignored the possum and spoke to Betty. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “What?” Amelia tugged on her soft curls. “Have y’all cracked the code or something?”

  Cordelia leaned over the table. “If y’all have, you need to start telling us.”

  “That’s the key,” I said. “The word ‘blight.’”

  Betty snapped her fingers. “That’s it. Why didn’t we see it before?”

  I rose. “Forbes was right.”

  “That scoundrel,” Flower said. “He’s the guilty one in all this.”

  “What’s this all about?” Amelia said. “One of y’all needs to start talking now.”

  I exhaled a deep breath. “Forbes said whoever wanted the magic eater to surface, that their name would be in the spell.”

  Cordelia’s jaw dropped. “Are you saying—”

  “We really should get to Forbes’s house,” Flower insisted. “In fact, I’m on my way there now.”

  We ignored her. “It’s the blight!” Amelia gasped. “But how?”

  “The blight would have to have physically manifested itself,” Betty said. “That’s the only way.”

  “And the one being we’ve constantly encountered, who was trapped by Snow from the very beginning is—”

  Amelia sucked air. “Flower!”

  All eyes turned to the possum. Flower's eyes widened. She shook her head. “What are y’all saying?”

  It all made sense. Flower had insisted that Snow had locked her up under the house. Flower had said she sometimes sneaked inside. She could have slipped me the spell with the Sticky Stuff. Plus, the one biggest thing about the whole mess was that neither my grandmother nor any other of the five had seen Snow get rid of the blight.

  They’d never watched it.

  It all made perfect sense. Flower was the physical manifestation of the blight. She had orchestrated every piece of this, creating chaos and staying with us. Why? To make sure everyone suffered from her revenge?

  I rose, fists clenched, ready for a fight—with a possum, of all things. “Flower, you are Blight. You’ve caused this entire scenario. You are responsible for Snow’s and Saltz’s deaths. Stay where you are!”

  I leaped toward her, but she scampered for the front door. Amelia darted toward the possum, cutting her off from escaping.

  Flower turned and scurried toward the kitchen.

  “Cordelia,” I shouted.

  My cousin extended her hand, and a line of magic zipped across the room, aimed directly at the possum.

  Flower, seeing the magic heading toward her, twisted her front legs, trying to grab the hardwoods to break her run. She dug her claws into the floor and skidded across the smooth wood.

  Cordelia’s magic hit the base of the door just as Flower stopped.

  I leaped over a dining room chair, hell-bent on catching the rodent.

  But Flower had time to tuck and run, which is what she did—readjusting her trajectory. She scampered under the dining room table and chairs.

  “I’ll get you,” Betty yelled.

  My grandmother swatted at the creature, but Flower dodged her grasp. The possu
m shot out from the table and headed up the stairs.

  “I’m on it,” Amelia yelled.

  She led the way up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The three of us reached the top and stopped.

  Every bedroom door was open.

  “Which way did she go?” I whispered.

  Cordelia motioned for each of us to search our rooms. Betty climbed up the steps slowly, and I motioned for her to check her own bedroom. She nodded and we split up.

  Quiet filled my bedroom. Mattie lay by the window, and Hugo napped on my bed.

  Some watch-animals they were. They didn’t even wake up from all the commotion downstairs.

  I padded softly across the floor. First place to check, under the bed.

  I leaned down and looked but no Flower.

  I scanned the room’s contents. Bookshelf—empty except for books. Dressing table? Drawers closed. Desk? Cluttered with books. Bed? The foot lay covered in clothes that I really needed to put away or toss in the hamper.

  The bed. That’s where she had to be. That little sucker was hiding under the clothes.

  Okay. How was I supposed to do this? I walked to my dresser and opened the drawer that held all my T-shirts. Y’all, I had a lot of T-shirts. I mean, they were just one of those clothing items I tended to collect. Go to the fair—buy a T-shirt to remember it. Take a vacation—oh, had to buy a T-shirt. I mean seriously, lots of T-shirt buying went on in my life.

  I nabbed one and stalked quietly back over to the mound of clothes.

  After staring at it for a good ten seconds, I figured out which pile she was hiding under. That little critter was tucked under a pair of brown shorts. All I had to do was pick up the shorts and throw the T-shirt on top and I had her.

  Easy as pie.

  My heart raced as I stared at the pile. Had to get this right. If I nabbed Flower, then we were golden. We could get her to call off the magic eater. It could be done.

  My breath hitched, and I forced it to smooth out. From shooting mistletoe out of trees when I was a kid, I knew the best time to fire was after an exhale.

  That’s how I would approach this now.

  I inhaled deeply, let it slowly seep from my body and moved.

  I fisted the shorts from the bed, expecting to see Flower underneath it. The possum was nowhere to be found.

  Maybe she was in someone else’s room. Maybe she wasn’t in my bedroom at all.

  I peeked my head out of the door and saw Amelia and Cordelia both standing there. They shrugged.

  None of us could find her.

  Betty stepped out of her bedroom and motioned for us to meet in the hall.

  She dropped her voice to a whisper. “She’s hiding good. If we want to find this critter, we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

  I twisted the ends of my hair into a knot at the base of my neck. “What do you mean?”

  “We have to screw with her psychologically.” Betty’s gaze darted to each of us. “We’ll have to trick her into thinking we’re gone. Make her think we believe she’s outside, and we’ll pretend to go out the door.”

  Amelia frowned. “Can she hear you right now?”

  Betty shook her head. “Kid, I’ve been at this living thing a long time. I spelled us so that we’re in a conversation bubble.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  Cordelia answered. “It’s where only we can hear each other.”

  “Okay, good,” Amelia said. “Because if Flower hears us, then the whole gig is up.”

  “Like I was saying,” Betty started up again, “we pretend to go outside and wait. She’ll come down to check. When she does…”

  “We nab her,” I said.

  Betty nodded. “We nab her.”

  “Okay,” I said loudly. “We can’t find the possum.”

  “We’re still in the conversation bubble,” Betty pointed out. “She can’t hear you.”

  I scoffed in frustration. “Can you please let us out?”

  My grandmother tapped her nose. A tendril of magic uncoiled from her nostril and swirled around us. It looped around our heads and disappeared.

  “Well,” Betty said loudly, “looks like that Flower got outside. What say the four of us go out to check?”

  “Sounds good,” Amelia said. “You don’t think she hurt herself climbing out a window, do you?”

  The three of us shot her harsh looks. I’m pretty sure we were all thinking the same thing—we didn’t care whether or not the creature had hurt herself because she’s the one who caused this whole mess.

  “Nah.” Cordelia waved her hand. “That little girl is too light to have hurt herself.”

  “She’s also nimble,” Betty said.

  “Yeah,” I added. “Everyone knows possums are as nimble as they get.”

  “Right,” Amelia said, suddenly looking confused. Not sure why, but that was the expression on her face. Her brows were stitched together, and her lips puckered up in question. “Okay. Well, let’s go outside and check.”

  We stomped so hard going down the stairs that the walls shook.

  “Discreet much?” Cordelia murmured.

  “We’re not supposed to be,” Amelia whispered.

  “I know,” Cordelia snapped. “That’s the point.”

  “Oh.”

  Betty pointed to the front door. “Pepper and I will go out that way. The two of y’all head out back.”

  “Okay,” Cordelia shouted.

  They tromped toward the kitchen door and stopped in front of it. Betty opened the front door and slammed it shut—twice.

  Then we waited.

  The clock on the wall seemed to tick into infinity before we finally heard the first stirring of movement.

  Betty and I had prime viewing toward the top of the stairs. As soon as a head poked out, I knew she’d be on it.

  We would have to move quickly.

  Something shuffled around slowly. Betty raised her hand, her magic ready.

  Finally, a tiny nose peeked out from atop the stairs. It sniffed the air, and Flower's head came into view.

  “Now,” Betty shouted.

  Blasts of magic spewed toward the creature. None of us wanted to hurt her. We only wanted to capture the rodent.

  But Flower moved like the wind. She practically sailed down the steps.

  Which, I’m going to be honest, completely freaked me out. Fight-or-flight took over my body, and I screamed as the white-faced creature headed toward me.

  Fear fissured through me, but I had to capture her. I reached toward Flower as a blast of magic hit her squarely in the belly.

  The possum was thrown to the ground. Suddenly we were all lunging toward her.

  Magic blasted every which way, and I heard a crash, as if a window had shattered.

  There was no time to look. I dived toward Flower, colliding with Amelia. Our heads knocked together. I ignored the pain shooting down my neck, but I couldn’t ignore the fog that took over my brain. I shook it off and snatched at the possum, but she scampered up my arm and over my body.

  “I’ve got her,” Betty shouted.

  My grandmother, God bless her soul, shot a wave of magic that missed the scampering critter. Betty’s mouth set into a determined line, and she flung herself at Flower.

  I don’t know how she did it, how Betty’s sixty-something-year-old body managed to sail through the air. She landed on the floor, and Flower took the opportunity to climb up Betty’s rump.

  My gaze locked on what lay behind Flower—the shattered window. The possum turned around, shot me a look full of victory and made a flying leap toward the window.

  “Stop her,” I yelled.

  Cordelia sprang from across the room, climbing over the couch and spraying a blanket of magic toward the window.

  She was trying to seal it, I knew.

  At the same time Flower jumped high. Her back legs kicked and her front paws paddled as if that would help her fly faster.

  Cordelia’s magic hit the window frame and star
ted weaving a net from one side. It would thread all the way to the other, but would it stop Flower?

  I held my breath and reached up, thinking I could lasso the rodent before she made it outside.

  My magic hit Flower on the rump, propelling her through the window at the exact time that Cordelia’s magical lace threaded in the center.

  The lace closed the window, and I dashed to it in time to see Flower land safely on the other side.

  She twisted her head around, shot me look of contempt and said, “See you later, sucker!”

  With that Flower dashed off, darting down the street and out of sight.

  I sighed in defeat, my shoulders slumping. I felt like we’d had the opportunity of a lifetime in our hands and it had been squandered, never to be seen again.

  My face crumpled, and I raked my fingers down my face. “How? How will we ever find her now?”

  Amelia reached for Betty, who swatted her away. “I’m not so old that I can’t help myself, kid.”

  Betty righted herself with a bit of magic and smoothed her flowered dress. “Well, the blight got away. Time to regroup. We need a new plan.”

  Cordelia gave her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding? How’re we going to find her now?”

  Betty folded her arms and narrowed her eyes. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way, kids. Now round everybody up. It’s going to be all hands on deck until we find that possum.”

  “How do you know she won’t run off?” Amelia said.

  Betty smirked. “That possum can’t leave until all of us are dead. Until the magic eater finishes business, she’ll be here and we’ll find her—one way or another.”

  SEVENTEEN

  “But how? How are we going to find Flower?”

  After the fiasco at Betty’s, I headed over to Axel’s and explained the whole situation. Axel had spent the morning poring over old books with Forbes, trying to figure out a loophole that would send Erebus back.

  Unfortunately for us, there wasn’t a loophole.

  And that didn’t help the situation with Flower anyway. Even if we banished the magic eater to the book, the blight was still around.

  Who’s to say Flower wouldn’t fool someone else into calling Erebus from his book?

  Axel considered my question, tipping his head back and forth as he thought. “The first question we have to ask is not how to find Flower, but what is it she wants?”