“Enough small talk,” Agnes said. “We need to sort you out.”
“Oh, I brought you an offering,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure none of the staff was lurking in the corridor before pulling the concealed bottle from my cloak.
“You need to reverse the cloaking spell,” Agnes said.
“Oh, right.” I tried to remember Gareth’s words. “Book’s a rectangle, earth’s a sphere/make this bottle reappear.”
“Goddess Bounty. You remembered.”
“I didn’t, but Gareth did.”
“Finally, that dead undead know-it-all is good for something.” Agnes took the bottle from me and popped off the lid with her yellow teeth. Yikes.
Agnes sat at the small table by the window and shuffled a deck of cards.
“Oh, do we play?” I asked. I had a vague recollection of playing cards with someone, but I was pretty sure it was my grandfather in the human world.
Agnes shook her head, her attention on the cards. “No, my dear. These aren’t for playing.” She fanned out the cards. “Choose seven.”
I swiped seven cards and placed each one face up on the table. “They’re pretty.”
“Pretty?” Agnes scoffed. “Who cares about pretty when we’re under threat? We need to get you back to normal, pronto. Or as normal as you’re capable of being, which isn’t very, but we’ll take what we can get.”
“Under threat?” I echoed. “Because my memory is important to break the curse?”
“Someone clearly thinks it is,” Agnes said. “Enough to try to wipe it clean.”
“I’ve been talking to paranormals in town,” I said. “Trying to track down which ones have a grudge against me or would want to thwart the coven’s efforts to break the curse.”
“And what have you learned?” Agnes asked.
I shrugged. “In the process of trying to do the right thing all the time, I seem to have made a fair number of enemies.”
“Welcome to real life,” Agnes said. She examined the seven cards. “Yes, this makes sense.”
I peered over her shoulder. “What does?”
She tapped the card with the image of the sun. “They won’t prevent change from coming, no matter how hard they try.”
“Is change a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Depends on your point of view,” Agnes said. “For me, when they change the pudding in the cafeteria from vanilla to rice, it’s a bad thing. I hate the grains getting stuck in my teeth.” She picked a spot between her two front teeth. “But to break the curse that’s gripped this town for so long, that’s a good change. Anyone who’s against is driven by fear.”
“Understandable,” I said. “They’re so used to Spellbound being a certain way, they’re afraid of anything else.”
“It’s not much different from when you came,” Agnes said. “Some residents were fearful of you because you represented change. Something that had never happened before.”
“You mean someone coming in from the human world and getting trapped here?”
“Exactly. Your mere presence signaled change. Not all paranormals were happy about it,” she said.
I studied the cards on the table, not understanding the images. “But they couldn’t control it. Even I couldn’t control getting stuck here.”
Agnes tapped the card with the chariot. “But maybe they mistakenly believe they can control the outcome this time if they eliminate you from the equation.”
I didn’t love her use of the word ‘eliminate.’ “You think the outcome is predetermined? No matter what they do, I’ll break the curse?”
“I don’t believe in Fate,” Agnes said, “but I do believe that, once a certain course is set in motion, it’s almost impossible to derail it. And that course began the moment you set foot in Spellbound.”
“I heard you were in the building,” a man’s voice said.
I spun around. “Hi. I guess I know you.” Although the man had a top half that looked human, his bottom half was like a mini-tornado. “You must be a genie.”
“Silas,” he said. “Dementia’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
“It’s not dementia, you idiot,” Agnes said. “It’s a memory loss spell. We need to help Emma get her memory back.”
Silas drifted further into the room. “Happy to help, once I’ve sampled this delicious beverage.”
Agnes nearly toppled him in an effort to protect her bottle of Goddess Bounty from his grasp. “I’ll pour you one small glass, but that’s it. Shut the door first. I don’t need the Busybody Brigade coming in here and claiming our contraband.”
Silas dutifully closed the door as Agnes poured him a drink. “So a memory loss spell, huh? That’s bad luck.”
Agnes poured two more glasses. “Luck had nothing to do with it. She was poisoned at her bachelorette party, which seems partially justified considering I wasn’t invited.”
“You’re coming to the wedding. Isn’t that enough?” I asked.
“Being asked to give a speech at the reception does make me more inclined to forgive you,” she said.
“And I’m escorting her,” Silas said.
“Since when?” the elderly witch shot back.
Silas wiggled his unibrow. “Since I invited myself as your date.”
“Do you need special permission to leave the care home?” I asked.
“It’s your wedding to Daniel,” Silas said, gliding around the room as though with an invisible dance partner. “No one here would dare deny us a free pass.”
Agnes downed her drink. “It’s true. Everyone here loves the two of you. It’s kind of disgusting.” She laughed. “Speaking of disgusting, do you remember that time you threw up in my bathroom?” She slapped her bony knee, remembering. “Of course you don’t. Oh, that was a good day for Agnes.”
“I was ill?” That didn’t seem very funny.
“As the story goes, I believe you were deep in your cups,” Silas said.
“Piss drunk,” Agnes added, still chortling. “You should drink more often. You’re so much more fun.”
“My therapist seems to hold the same opinion,” I said.
“Tell you what,” Agnes said, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Finish this bottle with Silas and me, and I’ll give you a spell that might reverse your memory loss.”
I eyed her carefully. “Are you serious? You can do that?”
“Of course I can,” Agnes said. “I can do a lot of magic, but no one ever asks me. Not since my daughter put me out to pasture.”
“Lady Weatherby made you come to live here?” I asked.
“Like I said, it’s a complicated relationship. I’d do the spell myself, but you’ll need certain ingredients I can’t get here,” she said. “You’ll need to go to Mix-n-Match.”
“If you know a spell like that,” Silas began, “why haven’t you used it on some of the residents here? Mother Nature knows it would be fantastic if Larry stopped looking for his jalopy keys. He hasn’t driven in a jalopy in twenty years.”
“Because Larry’s memory loss is natural,” Agnes explained. “Emma’s is the result of magic.” She inclined her head toward the bottle. “Go on, my dear. Bottoms up.”
“If she drinks all that, her memory loss will be even worse,” Silas said drily.
Agnes elbowed him. “Hey, I need to get some benefit out of this. Watching Hart make a fool of herself is a worthy exchange.”
Silas gave her a pointed look. “You couldn’t simply give her the spell out of the goodness of your heart?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Agnes asked.
“I’ll drink,” I said firmly. I needed my memories back, not just for me, but also for my friends and loved ones. For Daniel. I wanted him to marry a woman who remembered him.
I reached for a glass, but Agnes slapped my hand away and gave me the bottle. “For you,” she said. “Consider it an early wedding gift.”
“Seems more like a gift for you,” Silas said to the elderly witch.
I t
ook a hesitant sip of the alcohol.
“Keep up that pace and you’ll be ready to move in here by the time you finish,” Agnes quipped.
I swallowed a mouthful and felt the burn as it slid down my throat and into my stomach. “That’s potent.”
“Like you,” Agnes said, giving Silas a sly look.
“Your compliments won’t work on me today, witch,” Silas said. “Just give Emma the spell and let her go. You and I can enjoy the fruits of this bounty in private.”
Agnes shifted her gaze from me to Silas. “Is that so?”
Silas inched closer to her. “A worthy exchange, wouldn’t you agree?”
Agnes grabbed a nearby quill and ripped a piece of parchment in half before scribbling down the spell. She handed the parchment to me. “The ingredients are on there, too. Be sure to add them in the order listed or it could go very wrong.”
I swallowed hard. I certainly didn’t need anything else going wrong in my life at this point. “Thank you, Agnes.”
She winked at Silas. “No, Hart. Thank you.”
I walked down the aisle with the remedial witches, scouring the shelves in Mix-n-Match for the ingredients listed by Agnes.
“Are you sure you need mouse genitals?” Begonia asked. “Knowing Agnes, she added that one for fun.”
“I honestly think we need it,” I said. “She said to be very careful about the order, too. We need to perform it exactly as written.”
“You should have Lady Weatherby do it,” a witch said, stepping out from behind the counter. She had thin eyebrows and a long, slender neck. “She’s probably the best witch to interpret one of her mother’s spells.”
“That’s actually a good idea, Jemima,” Millie said.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Jemima said smugly. “After all, I was never a remedial witch.”
“Instead of standing there being useless, why don’t you help us find what we need?” Sophie snapped.
The other witches’ eyes popped open.
“Did someone do a spell on you, too?” Jemima asked.
“No,” Sophie said, hands on hips. “But I’m tired of your critical tongue. Just pitch in and help for a change.”
Jemima chewed her lip, clearly debating whether to snap back or acquiesce. “Fine,” she said, relenting. “But only because I want this blasted curse on the town broken so I can go to De Smet, South Dakota.”
“De Smet?” I queried. “Where’s that?” And why did it sound so familiar?
“It’s where the Ingalls family lived in Little Town on the Prairie and some of the other Laura Ingalls Wilder books. I’ve read all of them several times over. In fact, the library banned me from borrowing them again.” She began to pout.” They said I had to give someone else a turn.”
“Laura Ingalls Wilder?” I repeated. “I loved her books when I was growing up.”
Jemima hugged a jar of newt eyes to her chest. “I have such a crush on Almanzo. A burly Midwestern man with a strong work ethic and a heart of gold.”
“I know, right? I’m pretty sure the town preserved several locations where the family spent time. I remember reading a few years ago that you can visit the school where Laura first taught as a teenager.”
Jemima whirled around the room. “It will be so amazing.”
“Would you go alone?” Laurel asked.
Jemima stopped moving. “I haven’t given it much thought. I guess it depends on whether anyone wanted to join me since Franklin isn’t interested.” She frowned. “I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head.”
“Gee, I wonder why not,” Millie muttered.
“You wouldn’t be scared to go alone?” Laurel asked. “You’ve never left Spellbound. Traveling halfway across the country to a town you’ve read about in a book…that sounds…”
“Incredibly brave,” I interjected. “I hope we break the curse, if only so you get the chance to make that trip, Jemima.” Everyone deserved the chance to follow their dreams at least once in life.
Jemima plucked a canister from the shelf. “Nose hairs of a ferret.”
“Seriously?” Millie queried. She studied the label. “Whose job is it to acquire these items?”
“No kidding,” Sophie said. “I’d hate to have that job.”
“Why do you think I’m so eager to flee to South Dakota?” Jemima asked. “Those ferrets can be nasty. Usually, I need to do a freeze spell, but it’s easier said than done.”
I believed it. Ferrets could be slippery suckers. I added the canister to our wicker basket. “What else do we need?”
“I found the thickening gruel,” Laurel said, triumphantly holding up a tube.
“Thickening gruel?” I echoed. “What’s that made from?”
Laurel studied the label and wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. You don’t want to know.” She turned her head to the side and dropped the tube into the basket.
“I’ve got the tooth of wolf,” Sophie said, shaking a container of teeth.
“We only need one,” Millie pointed out.
“We sell them in batches of twenty,” Jemima said. “Sorry.”
“You don’t think the shop would make an exception for a good cause?” Begonia asked. “After all, if Emma gets her memories back, we may break the curse that much faster.”
Jemima rolled her eyes. “I’m going to go into the stockroom for a minute to check on something. If items are missing when I get back, I didn’t see anything.”
“Really?” Millie asked.
Jemima whistled as she wandered toward the stockroom.
We grabbed the last few items on the list.
“I think we’ve covered it,” Sophie said. “Time to hunt down Lady Weatherby and get this party started.”
Chapter 14
In the end, no hunting was required. We located Lady Weatherby in her office at the ASS Academy. A black cat rested on the floor beside the desk. He barely glanced up when we crowded in the doorway.
“Hello, Chairman Meow,” Begonia said, stepping forward to scratch the large cat behind the ear.
“What brings you witches to my office?" the head of the coven asked.
"We have a spell that might reverse Emma's memory loss," Millie said.
Sophie held up the basket with the ingredients and shook it for good measure.
Lady Weatherby braided her long, elegant fingers. "Is that so? And where, pray tell, did you discover this potential spell? Late nights with the grimoire again?"
"Actually, your mother gave it to me," I said. I left out the part where she tried to bribe me with alcohol. I figured Lady Weatherby would not appreciate her mother's idea of fun.
Her dark eyes narrowed. “I see," the older witch said. She leaned back in her chair. "May I see the spell?"
I handed over the scrap of parchment for her to review. I watched keenly as her eyes scanned the chicken scratch that passed for Agnes's handwriting. Lady Weatherby set down the parchment and met my gaze.
“I daresay I think my mother is onto something," she admitted.
"Oh, she's on something all right," Millie said.
Lady Weatherby scowled. "And you have all the ingredients listed here? Even the mouse genitals?”
Chairman Meow lifted his head, suddenly interested.
“We have everything required to complete the spell," Laurel said. "All we need now is someone with your expertise to administer it."
Lady Weatherby scraped back her chair and stood. "Very well then. I have it on good authority that you younger witches have your own secret lair. I suppose it's time to introduce you to mine.”
She turned toward the portrait of Arabella St. Simon that hung on the wall behind her. "Arabella, I request permission to enter. Camera obscura.”
A door materialized beneath the portrait and everyone gasped.
My brow wrinkled. “Isn’t camera obscura a term used in photography?”
“It means dark chamber,” Laurel whispered.
We followed Lady Weatherby into the darkened room.
She twirled her wand in the air and said, “Be gone with the night/let there be light." Fey lanterns lit up the room. It reminded me of my grandfather's workshop. There was a long working table and shelves filled with objects, presumably magical materials. Unlike my grandfather's workshop, there was a cauldron set within an Inglenook-style fireplace.
“Set the ingredients on the table in the order they are to be used," Lady Weatherby instructed. "I shall warm the cauldron."
We began to empty the contents of the basket. Laurel was in charge of reading from the parchment to make sure our placement was accurate.
“We don't need anyone else from the coven?" Begonia asked.
Lady Weatherby lit the fire beneath the cauldron. "I would say between the six of us, we can handle the spell. It only takes one to perform the incantation."
"I'm surprised you didn't remember the spell," Millie said nonchalantly, as she set out the tooth of wolf. “I would think she taught you every spell she knew before you became head of the coven.”
"I'm sure she did at one time," Lady Weatherby replied. She peered into the cauldron. "My memory is above average, but not infallible."
"Wow," Millie breathed. "She admits a weakness. Mark this day on your calendars."
Lady Weatherby gave her a sharp look. "My hearing happens to be one of my strengths."
Millie's cheeks grew flushed. She busied herself with the remainder of the ingredients. "Everything's ready here."
Lady Weatherby stirred the contents of the cauldron with a large wooden spoon. "Bring me the nose hair of the ferret, please."
We exchanged reluctant glances. Nobody wanted to be responsible for touching the nose hair.
Finally, Millie heaved a sigh. "Oh, fine. I'll do it then." She snatched the fine hair from the table and marched over to the cauldron. "Do I just drop it in?"
Lady Weatherby nodded. "Mouse genitals next."
Millie folded her arms and smirked. "Someone else's turn now."
Laurel stepped forward. "If I intend to be a well-rounded witch, then I should be able to handle this." No one commented on the fact that she closed her eyes. She tipped the ingredient into the cauldron and ran to the sink to wash her hands.
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