Chapter 11
H aving spent two days scouring through the library shelves and reading enough love and elemental spells to make her head spin, Lucy finally found what she was looking for – in the aged pages of a Matherson grimoire, of all things.
She ran her fingers over the ingredients, comparing them to the list Grams had used. Mum and Grams had altered a Matherson protection potion. The potion pre-dated the war on witches. Its purpose was to call out to lost loved ones to help them find their way home. The ingredients made no reference to black pepper, confirming Grams’s mistake.
She wanted to let out a shriek of relief at finally having got somewhere, but thought the better of it, considering the library was crowded with people studying. Taking her phone out of her back pocket, she texted him what she’d found and explained her theory that the black pepper/bat’s blood swap had changed the potion’s effect from calling elements to exchanging them.
Waiting for Benedict’s reply, she delved deeper into the grimoire for more answers.
Her phone pinged with a text as she discovered there were no concoctions or incantations listed to stop the effects of the potion.
Is there any way to reverse it?
She had been hoping for a little more enthusiasm.
Not that I can find, but the potion’s effects, using the correct ingredients, should wear off when our elements decide it’s safe – whatever the hell that means. However, given the ingredient mix-up, we can’t know for sure. Maybe if we make the potion again with the right ingredients, our elements might switch back. The only problem is that from what I’ve read so far, the further we are from each other, the more intensely our elements will try to bring us together.
Waiting for his reply, she copied down the correct ingredients from the grimoire and prayed a redo would work. She wanted Benedict to read the ingredients himself in case there was something she was missing. She’d never thought she’d see the day when she’d be seeking a second opinion from him.
What if brewing the potion again only strengthens the effects?
I can’t know for sure. If it doesn’t work, I also found something in my notes from the Hawthorne grimoire the order sent me, but it’s a curse-stripping potion and it’s old magic. We could end up losing our elements altogether.I haven’t been able to get down to the vault to double-check, but it’s a back-up option.
It’s been two days, why haven’t you checked the vault?
I have my translations to work off. Rosie is only coming in for the evening study hall so I can’t leave the desk.
Why didn’t you call her in? I think this is an emergency.
Stop snapping at me! I couldn’t. She would’ve smelt something was up.
There was a pause before he responded.
I’m not snapping. When you know, text me.
I’m working as hard as I can. A little patience would be nice.
Three dots told her Benedict was typing, but she shoved her phone in her bag when she saw Rosie putting her umbrella in the holder by the door.
“I’m sorry I’m late, I got stuck in traffic dropping Harriet and Luisa to the train station.” Rosie hurried around the desk and wrapped her arms around Lucy. Her coat transferred droplets of rain to Lucy’s jumper; the autumn showers were coming more frequently.
“Don’t worry about it, I didn’t even feel the day go. I’ve been lost in some research on the final spells in the grimoire,” she answered, hating to lie.
“I feel like we haven’t really had a chance to talk since the other night,” Rosie said, eyeing her suspiciously. Lucy didn’t want to admit she’d been avoiding her, but she couldn’t risk her finding out about her element. “You’ve been a little off since you disappeared from the lake.”
“I’m fine. Probably a little burnt out and anxious about the Order member set to appear. As for the lake, I don’t think I’ll be drinking Luisa’s tea again anytime soon. I’ll be back to normal once All Hallows’ Eve passes and we can get back to our usual routine.” Lucy removed the tote bag containing the grimoire from Rosie’s desk chair. She didn’t want her to see she was bringing it home. They were dancing around the topic of her engagement, but since Rosie had been working the evenings, there hadn’t been time to talk.
“I forgot how lethal her tea was. At least you went home. I shifted form and ended up drinking out of my neighbour’s dog bowl.” Rosie grimaced, shrugging off her jacket and collapsing in the seat beside her.
“Not your cute neighbour?” Lucy was relieved she wasn’t the only one who’d suffered a night of humiliation.
“Yes, and he saw me! I don’t think my ego will ever recover.” Rosie turned on the old computer on her side of the desk that was in desperate need of replacement. She had a laptop for her own work, but the computers were mandatory for checking books in and out.
“I’m sure he found it funny,” Lucy said, trying to ease her mind.
“Speaking of funny events, you never told me how you cut through the Matherson estate the other night. I tried to track you, but the gate was locked.” Rosie took a sip of her coffee while she waited for the old computer to load.
Lucy’s eyes widened in panic; she couldn’t tell her she’d been with Benedict. “Maybe the tea affected your sense of smell? I must’ve found some other way to cut through their estate.” She avoided Rosie’s gaze in case the werewolf sensed she was lying.
“We were just glad to hear you got home okay. I tried barking at them to get out of the water, but they were too wrapped up in the stars.”
“I hope they fared better than we did in the aftermath.” Lucy tried to conceal her relief when Rosie didn’t pry any further about the manor.
“They were sad you couldn’t come to say goodbye. They wanted to stay longer, but Harriet wanted to get the afternoon train to meet her girlfriend, and Luisa had to get back to work,” Rosie explained, tucking a strand of cropped hair behind her ear.
“I couldn’t get away,” Lucy said guiltily. She stacked the other volumes she’d been going through, keeping their titles out of sight. “Next time they come into town, let’s stick to a lake swim and forego anything to do with tea.”
“Agreed.” They shook on it.
“Good morning, girls,” a patron said, hooking her walking stick onto the desk.
“Morning, Mrs Khan! I see you’re loving the Immortal Lovers series,” Rosie said, taking the books she wanted to borrow.
“I can’t get enough of that Mr. Trenton character– so dashing on that white horse of his. And how he slayed the Vampire King,” she cooed with an exaggerated shiver. Lucy stamped her to-be-returned date inside each book.
“No spoilers!” Rosie covered her ears. “I’m only on the second book.”
Mrs Khan mimed sealing her lips. “I shall say no more, but I was hoping the new book had come in.”
“I thought I’d seen it here. I promise, you’re first on the list when it comes in.” Rosie frowned, looking at the cart of newly delivered books.
Lucy froze as she put the books into Mrs Khan’s tote bag. She’d given the new book to Suzy, but thankfully she hadn’t entered its arrival into the system yet. She made a mental note to put it in once Suzy gave it back.
“You’re all stamped and ready to go,” she said, handing her the full bag.
Mrs Khan turned to leave, but then turned back with a wide grin. “How could I forget? I believe congratulations are in order! My wife told me this morning about your binding to Benedict.”
Wincing, Lucy felt Rosie staring at her. So far she’d avoided talking about it with her friend, but she certainly couldn’t escape it now.
“I can’t believe two of my brightest students are going to be bound.” Mrs Khan had taught them botany. The older woman leant in close. “So you know, you have the support of the Khan family no matter what you decide.” She winked.
“It’s all rather sudden, but Benedict and I thank you for your support.” Her words remained steady and certain, but she was sweating. She couldn’t believe the news was spreading so fast. Mrs Khan’s wife worked at the flower market, which was run by Mrs Crawford. The news had probably been spread before she set the toaster on fire.
“Be sure to pass on our congratulations to Benedict. You do make a gorgeous couple; I think you’ll both do an excellent job heading the coven together.” Mrs Khan left with her bag secured on her arm.
“So, are we going to talk about it? Or are we going to keep dancing around the topic?” Rosie side-eyed Lucy once Mrs Khan was out of earshot.
“We can talk about it,” Lucy sighed. With heat swelling in her hands, she put down the book Mrs Khan had returned before it burnt to ash like the flowers out front.
“Only if you’re ready. When you didn’t bring it up, I thought it wasn’t true or that you needed time to tell me – but how the hell are you engaged to Benedict Matherson?”
Lucy appreciated Rosie for never pushing. It was probably because there was plenty in her own past she never discussed; Lucy had never asked her about her life in the woods with the wolves before she came to Foxford.
“Technically, I’m not engaged.” She picked up her iced tea, trying to calm down. The ice was a lame attempt at keeping her hands cool. The last thing she wanted was for the library, which she loved above all else, to go up in flames. She hoped Benedict wasn’t struggling as much as she was. “I wanted to be the one to tell you, but I was in shock about the whole thing. The coven wishes for me and Benedict to lead the coven together, so the town can benefit from our joint leadership and to stop us both from destroying the town with our petty squabbles.” She sounded far more rational than she felt, evidenced by the ice turning to water in her drink. She put down the cup, afraid of melting the plastic.
“They think forcing you together will magically make you get along? Sounds more like mutually assured destruction.” Rosie’s words echoed around the library. A few readers in the fantasy section stared at them, alerted by the sudden outburst. Lucy muttered an apology, and the readers went back to their books.
“Either we agree to the binding, or one of us will be voted out of town. And since it was my actions that led to that God-awful review in the magless magazine, I wasn’t risking rejecting their offer.”
“But how could Benedict even be nominated for your position? He’s as much to blame as you for the stunt,” Rosie pointed out.
“Technically, anyone can be nominated. It was never seen as necessary before.”
“But you won’t really accept an arranged marriage, right? You must have some plan?”
Lucy stared at her bag. She was currently trying everything to undo her family’s plan to stop the binding; she didn’t have time to plan her own.
“I have to. If there had been a vote then and there, I’d have lost. We both know I’ve neglected the town since I took over the library, and with the last prank threatening to expose the magical nature of our town to the outside world, saying yes was my best option to buy myself some time.”
Rosie let out a sigh. “Stuck between a rock and a hard place. When I found out, I thought you might’ve wanted to be bound to Benedict – not that he isn’t a tall drink of water.”
“A tall drink of water?” Lucy smirked, though she wished people would stop thinking she harboured feelings for him.
“What?” Rosie frowned. “I heard your Grams say it.”
“You really were raised with wolves.”
“No diverting the topic. There is no way Benedict isn’t scheming to get out of this. What about your opposing elements?” Rosie asked.
Lucy looked away. “Gwendoline says there’s a ritual that’ll make it possible.”
“At least you’ve plenty of time to reconsider your options. Engagements can last years nowadays.”
Lucy picked up a bunch of books from the returned pile to avoid answering.
“Wait. How long did they give you?” Rosie asked, following her so she couldn’t escape the conversation.
“All Hallows’ Eve,” Lucy admitted, stopping on the staircase. “The ritual will only work when the connection between us and those who came before is the strongest.”
“Gwendoline could be bluffing. What are the chances that we’ve never come across such a ritual in all our research?” Rosie was the best occult researcher in the town, if not the country. She could find a needle in a pile of needles.
“I wish she was, but she’s spent decades rebuilding the Matherson reputation. I doubt she would lie to the coven.”
“Decades or not, a Matherson is a Matherson. Being deceitful is in their blood,” Rosie grumbled.
“No one picks their family or the magic they inherit,” Lucy reminded her. She appreciated her friend’s support, but she didn’t like judging anybody for their past. “Benedict and Gwendoline can’t help being Mathersons, like I can’t help being a Hawthorne.”
Rosie sighed. “And I can’t help being raised in a pack.”
Silence sank between them, along with a sense that everything was about to change.
“I should get you a wedding present,” Rosie teased.
“Don’t you dare! No magless traditions. This is a binding, not a wedding,” Lucy snapped.
There was a second of tension, and then they both erupted into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation.
Rosie suddenly stopped, grabbing Lucy’s arm. “What about the Order? Are you going to tell them about your engagement?” she asked, worry creasing her brows. “Two of the most powerful families in Foxford are binding their descendants; such events would pique their interest.”
“They’ve no say in coven matters,” Lucy shrugged. They were the last of her concerns.
“What if they find out on their own? They’re sending someone for the grimoire; they might find it strange you didn’t mention it in your correspondence.”
“We don’t discuss personal matters. Once whoever collects the grimoire arrives, they’ll be on their way.” If Lucy let the stress of another thing get to her, she might combust into one giant flame. “Can we talk about anything else? My head is starting to throb, and everything’ll be fine.” She was reassuring herself as much as her friend. She wished she could tell Rosie everything about the element swap, but it was the coven who’d granted Rosie refuge when she’d left her pack; it would be unfair to make her keep a secret from them.
“Not another word on the subject.” Rosie zipped her lips. “I’ve got to start ordering the Christmas books. We can’t put it off any longer.”
Stopping by the portraits hung between the shelves, Lucy noticed they were dusted to perfection. A promise is a promise. She whistled, hoping it was safe to use her magic to summon their cleaner. Thankfully, nothing burst into flames, and Broomhilda came clattering from the cleaning closet at the end of the hall.
So far so good; no flames yet. She tried not to get too cocky.
“You did a great job, and I did promise you could have some company,” she told the broom. With a click of her fingers, another clatter echoed from the cleaning closet. The mop fell out of the door before picking itself up and swishing over to them. The broom and mop stood before her, awaiting instruction.
“You two can clean together today, but no repeats of last time. I don’t want to have to move another shelf to hide another ink stain not even magic could get out of the carpet,” Lucy warned.
The enchanted objects dipped forward as if ashamed of themselves.
“Off you go. Have fun,” she ordered, and they hurried away to their chores on the various floors. She hoped they wouldn’t be too much of a nuisance to visitors.
Sliding along the laddered shelves, she put the grimoires back in their rightful places. Rosie had been too distracted by the binding revelation to notice her potion research. Now she needed to get to the vault and find the curse-stripping potion before the Order member arrived.