1 A Hiss-tory of Magic
Page 13
In the otherworld, the memories were like a collection of little bubbles. The ones I removed faded into wisps, like foam under a waterfall.
The Beginning
We snuck back into Jake’s police car before he and Ruby parted ways—Bea in the front passenger seat, just like before, Aunt Astrid and I in the back—except that we now had two books between us.
I kept an ear out. When Darla opened her front door, she exclaimed, “Ruby! What brings you here?”
For a moment, I was afraid that I’d done the memory removal completely wrong, but Ruby only answered, “Married guys aren’t my type. Or any guys, really.”
Darla whined, “That’s so hurtful of you to say! In case you forgot, it was Darren who cheated on me first.”
“I didn’t forget,” Ruby told her. “But I know you still want to tell me all about it again. Of course I’ll listen, but—”
Then the front door shut, and their voices became too distant and muffled to hear.
Jake revved up the engine and drove us back home. He took the fake spellbook back to the evidence room, and Aunt Astrid took the real spellbook somewhere even Bea and I didn’t know.
Blake recovered from his gunshot wound just in time to give his testimony in court. When testifying, both Blake and Min seemed to have decided for themselves that the glowing water was indeed a coincidence. My confession about the Greenstone magic heritage wasn’t even mentioned, only referred to as “Cath tried to play along” or “Cath tried to talk sense into him.”
The Order denied having any part in the incident, but even the coverage in a small town like Wonder Falls proved to be too much scandal for them to handle. The fraternity dissolved, and the jury sent Reuben Connors off to an asylum for the criminally insane. Dexter Edison would serve a sentence of eight years in prison.
Ted Lanier was laid to rest in Canadian soil. Min had offered to fund the memorial service in France, but considering how much Ted had wanted to escape his old life, Aunt Astrid decided to arrange a small and quiet ceremony. I was surprised at the number of flowers laid on Ted’s gravestone after that, considering Darla had completely forgotten him. Nobody else had expected her to remember.
We put a framed picture of Ted on a memorial wall in the new and improved Brew-Ha-Ha. Business slowed down between the pastries from the Night Owl never being up to par with Ted’s, and our being short-staffed in the front of house. It leveled out fine, though. Any improvements that we’d planned after rebuilding would just be a month or so slower.
During what had always been the slowest time of the year for the Brew-Ha-Ha, we closed up for three days to go camping and fishing. We’d left the cats at the kennel, even though Jake said that he wouldn’t mind filling their dishes and cleaning their litter boxes. I didn’t want him to follow an escaped Treacle into Greenstone Girls’ Space, and the kennel seemed a more likely environment for none of the cats to ever want to wander away from.
As it turned out, though, there really was no stopping Treacle from wandering anywhere. He found our tents. So I let him have a jacket in my tent as a cat bed. I guess it would be a cat sleeping bag.
That night, Treacle woke me up again. He kept coming back to meow into my ear until I got up and followed him. It was a new moon’s night, but something about my own magic let me tread unharmed through the forest. I could see with the sonic echolocation of the bats. I could find my way by starlight through the eyes of owls.
With my own human ears, though, I heard the rushing of the falls. I knew the way over the bridge.
That’s where I met the Maid of the Mist. She stood on the bridge with me.
I know that I saw her clearly, but I can’t describe it now. My memory blurs in the strangest way, trying to remember if her dress was black or white.
“Well done,” she said to me.
I gave a modest shrug. “I had help. I had my family—and Treacle, of course. I made new friends, too.”
“That’s all very important, and it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t played your part. It’s been many generations since I’ve seen quite so much promise in a defender of this, the falls between the worlds.” She looked about my age, but my intuition was telling me that I was in the presence of a being with years beyond wisdom.
“With all due respect, I can’t make any promises. I should say that I appreciate you coming to meet me instead of speaking to me a dream. This must be an honor of some kind, but I’m just sleepy. Unless this is a dream.” I hugged myself, feeling chilled all of a sudden, and I rubbed at my arms to warm them.
“Honor?” the Maid of the Mist echoed, sounding amused. “Necessity, maybe. You are a witch. You have bonds and duties. You will have more trials. Are you prepared?”
I took all that in and looked down at Treacle, who only looked back up at me. “Never,” I replied. “I’m never prepared—but, you know, let me at ’em! When they happen, that is. For now, I think we all need to go back to sleep.”
“True.” With that, the Maid of the Mist dissolved. Treacle and I returned to the camp, where I first started writing all this out by flashlight.
I shouldn’t be writing this down. I shouldn’t have written it down. Those used to be the rules. I just feel as if I had to, though. Maybe it’s because there’s more coming. The Maid of the Mist said so. A witch’s work is never done, and I used to dread it. Now I embrace it.
I’ve started writing so that I can remember this better and maybe so the next generation of Greenstones can be better prepared—or, at least, know that they’re not alone, no matter the age gap or even if I’m long gone.
My name is Cath Greenstone, I’m a witch, and this was the beginning. This was only the beginning.
* * *
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Also by Harper Lin
The Emma Wild 4-book Holiday Series
4-Book Holiday Series
Killer Christmas: Book 1
New Year’s Slay: Book 2
Death of a Snowman: Book 3
Valentine’s Victim: Book 4
The Patisserie Mysteries
Macaron Murder: Book 1
Éclair Murder: Book 2
Baguette Murder: Book 3
Crêpe Murder: Book 4
Box Set for Books 2-4
Croissant Murder: Book 5
Crème Brûlée Murder: Book 6
Madeleine Murder: Book 7
About the Author
Harper Lin lives in Kingston, Ontario with her husband, daughter and Pomeranian puppy. When she’s not reading or writing mysteries, she loves hiking, yoga, baking and spending time with her family. She’s currently working on more cozy mysteries in her different series.
Visit the official author website for the latest news.
www.harperlin.com
harperlinauthor@outlook.com