by Rose Pressey
Chapter Forty-Two
“What’s that?” I asked.
“This book…” She tapped it with her brightly polished fingernail. “This book has the spell that you need to fight off this Isabeau demon and that bitch of a witch, Mara.”
My eyes widened. “Are you serious? How did you find it?”
She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’m good. Never underestimate your mother.”
“Well, let me see it,” I said, spinning the book around and flipping the cover open.
At least this one was in English.
“I wish there was something more I could do.” Annabelle said. “I feel like a bum since I can’t do any magic to help you.”
I patted her hand. “You did enough by telling my mother.”
“You’re not mad at me?” she asked.
I frowned for a second, then released a smile. “Well, normally I would be furious, but since it all worked out, I’m not mad.”
She shook her head. “Whatever. That works for me.”
A ton of spells stared back at me from the pages—everything from love, gardening and cooking to getting rid of demons.
“Where in the heck did you find this book?” I asked my mother.
She offered a sly smile. “I have my ways, but I can’t divulge my secrets.”
I shook my head. “Okay, whatever you say.”
I’d eventually get the info from her.
My mother grabbed the book and turned it around. “Here’s the spell you need.” She tapped the page.
I looked at it and flipped to the page. “Where is the other page?”
My mother’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“The page that has the rest of the spell is missing.” I tapped my finger against the book.
My heart sank. What would I do now? I had had so much hope and now it was burst.
“I have no idea,” my mother said.
Annabelle sank back onto her stool. “I’m sorry, Hallie.”
“I guess I got so excited that I didn’t pay attention to that detail.” My mother blushed.
“So where is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know. The book has been on the shelf at my home since your Aunt Maddy gave it to me.”
Why was I not surprised that it had come from Aunt Maddy? I wished I’d never gotten LaVeau Manor now. It had caused nothing but problems with my life. And I included Nicolas and Liam as part of those problems.
My mother grabbed the book again. “Well, maybe I can figure out what the rest of the spell is.”
She flipped through the pages, studying each one intensely. This was not going to end well, I just felt it. Annabelle and I stared at her.
After several minutes of her flipping the pages, she closed the cover. “Well, I just need a little more time to find something. I’ll figure it out though.” She didn’t sound confident.
“You know I appreciate your help,” I said.
My mother patted my hand. “I know, dear. Now in the meantime, maybe you need to try a few spells to warm up before you try this big one.”
My mother knew I was going to screw this up. But what could she do? I had to be the one to do it. She couldn’t do it for me. Believe me, if she could, she would have. She’d bypass me altogether.
“What kind of spells?” I asked.
“Oh, I don’t know, something simple.” My mother waved her bangle-covered arm through the air.
I stared at her.
“Oh, well, okay, I know the spells aren’t simple, per se.”
What she meant to say was that no spell was simple for me. She was just feeling sorry for me and protecting my hurt feelings. The truth hurt sometimes, but sometimes it was necessary to go through that pain.
“How about you just do a spell to make these flowers fresh again?” She pointed at the vase of roses she had on the counter. She opened the book and pointed at the page. “I even have a super-easy spell here that you can use.”
It was like she was teaching magic to a five-year-old witch trying a spell for the first time. I pulled the book closer and looked at the page. “Yeah, I guess I can use this spell.”
I knew she wouldn’t stop asking until I tried the spell. I lifted the vase and set it in front of me. With a wave of my hand, I said, “Life is new and fresh, make no distress. Bring the flowers back many hours. So mote it be.” The flowers drooped even further. They almost touched the counter they’d fallen over so far.
“Oh dear,” my mother said as she held her chest.
She could be overly dramatic sometimes.
“Okay, that didn’t work so well.” I released a heavy sigh.
Annabelle gave me a pitying look.
“Maybe you should try something else,” my mother said. “Those flowers were almost dead anyway.”
How many attempts would my mother insist I make before she accepted the fact that my magic wasn’t going to work? I wasn’t meant to be a witch and I certainly wasn’t meant to be the leader of the Underworld. The sooner she accepted that the better off we’d be.
“What do you want me to do now?” I asked with deflation in my voice.
We were trying spells that first-graders could do easily.
“Can you turn this pencil into a pen?” she asked.
This was just silly now. I stared at her. “Honestly?” I asked.
She pushed the pencil toward me. “Come on. At least give it a try.”
I let out a deep breath and took the pencil from her outstretched hand. After I repeated the words and the pencil was still a pencil, my mother gave up. She looked like she wanted to cry. And she wasn’t the only one. I wanted to hide away and cry my eyes out.
So I’d tried multiple spells, but none of them had worked. What else could I do? The magic was gone. The spells had done nothing but fizzle out. I didn’t think it was possible, but my powers were even worse than when all of this had started.
“Can you watch the store?” my mother asked, after she’d finally given up on my magic. “There’s somewhere I need to go.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said dejectedly. What else did I have to do?
Rain pounded against the windows and the wind blew with a fury.
“Just be careful out there. The weather is wicked.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Annabelle offered.
The store wasn’t busy because of the bad weather, so Annabelle and I spent our time smelling the candles and testing out the sample lotions. That bad vibe still pulsed around me though. I knew it was only a matter of time until I discovered what this strange feeling was all about.
