Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
Evie, Now
Evie stood on her mother’s side of the attic room, the wall still gaping with the damage from the fire. After Florence had left, Evie had taken a few good swings at it to get her anger out, but she hadn’t had a chance to finish. Not with dinner and then the second fire.
Flames were at the heart of the Caldwells’ magic.
Yes, the wax and the dipping of the candles all played into it, but it was the burning that sealed their spells and brought them into being.
The house’s inability to control fire within its walls seemed important somehow.
Had Evie more time, she’d sit with that fact.
Were she and Florence on speaking terms, she’d talk it over with her.
But tomorrow was the thirteenth, and time was the last thing Evie had.
She wouldn’t lose anyone to this curse and to her own mistake in thinking her benevolence was enough to break it. She’d had thirteen years to pick it apart and undo it, and she’d wasted them.
She wouldn’t waste this last day.
Yes, she told Angela she was canceling the festival. But she hoped after her work was done, there would be no need. Whatever dark magic lurked inside the house would be bound, and any danger to those she loved would be gone forever.
She’d prepared everything from the spell she’d found in her mother’s journal.
The candles hadn’t turned out as perfect as the ones she’d found in this room, but she trusted her own magic more than she trusted her mother’s.
She sat in the antique chair and read over the list of components one more time.
Black candle
Brown candle
Tourmaline, obsidian, and quartz
An anchor
Objects belonging to spell subjects
String
Something offered
Temperance card
Magician card
She placed the crystals in a triangle, quartz at the top to lend its power and amplification, tourmaline and obsidian in each bottom corner to ground and protect.
The floorboards creaked beneath her. Evie bent down and rested a hand against them.
“I know you’re scared,” she said. “So am I. But I promise this will help.”
There was a low groan from the pipes in the walls.
Evie set one of Clara’s pebbles in the center of the spell circle.
Then she placed the necklace her mother had taken from Florence beside it.
She unclasped her own necklace and set the tourmaline pendant with them.
Three witches to anchor the magic. Finally, she added the doorknob to represent the house, the subject of the spell, or so she thought.
She took a long piece of cotton twine—the same she used for dipping her candles—and tied the objects together. She set both of her misshapen candles in the circle and the tarot cards along with them.
She didn’t know what she could offer to make the binding take hold, what would be powerful enough to undo whatever darkness had her home in its grip.
She loved Honeysuckle House deeply, thought of it as her own family.
Whatever offering she made had to have an equal weight.
Her mind drifted to Angela, to the love growing between them.
It wasn’t something she wanted to give up.
She wanted to explore it, to uncover every facet of it for the rest of her life, but if letting go of her love for Angela meant keeping her safe—if it meant keeping all of them safe—that was worth it.
And so, she struck a match.