Eva
Right where I left it, the scales sit in their rightful place on the mantle. The cold bronze metal sings to me the moment I lay eyes on it. Mom, Paige, and Riley watch while I pick it up and turn it over in my hands.
How am I going to bend this back?
Eyes closed, I clear my mind and feel the weight of the scale in my hand.
It speaks to me without words through its curves and carvings.
It describes its purpose, its origins, and about the hands it’s been passed down through.
It tells me how Iris grabbed it one day, full of pain and fury, and cursed it.
It resisted her spell, but it eventually buckled under the pressure of her magick.
If grief and despair could bend it, then it will take love and hope to repair.
I smile at the thought of the first moment I saw Sorren, leaning over me, his eyes wide with fear.
The way he shoveled away slice after slice of pizza.
Our nights snuggling on the couch watching bad reality TV.
The way it feels when our magick blends together.
His lips. I channel all of that love into the damaged metal in my hands.
The scales relax and soften, and warmth spreads through the metal as my thoughts shift from Sorren to my family and Riley. It feels alive in my hand.
Thank you for being a reminder of this season. Thank you for carrying the burden of this curse. It’s time to put the world back in balance.
I open my eyes and look down at my hands. The bend is gone, like it never existed, everything perfectly in balance. I pass it around, giving everyone a chance to hold it.
Mom tries to pass it back to me. “Evie, it’s ready to be back on the mantle.”
“You put it back,” I say, patting her hands that hold the scales. She is going to need this moment when the truth comes out about Grandma Iris. I have no idea how she and Paige will feel about it, but that’s their journey.
She places the repaired scale on the mantle over the fireplace and the moment the metal touches the wood, a wake of energy pulses through the air, a silent boom felt rather than heard.
“Ready to open these leylines?” Paige asks.
“Let’s do this,” I say, still trying to believe that we finally have answers for so many questions.
“Robin, you start with a mandala. Map the leylines and then build from there,” Paige instructs. Her inclination as a ritual witch has never been more handy.
“Riley, you know what to do. Prepare the incantation.”
“Grandma told me to summon the power of our ancestors,” I interject.
“Perfect, I’ll finish the incantation with that,” Riley pulls out a notebook and curls up on the couch to write.
“What do I do?” I ask, ready to get to work.
“Go talk to your demon. He’s waiting for you out there,” Paige says. “I’ll let you know when everything is ready.”
I’m practically floating on air when I go out to find him. I open the heavy shed door, and the look on his face stops me in my tracks. Sorren looks sad, a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth but never goes any farther.
“What’s wrong?” I feel cold and numb and scared.
He slowly stands and takes my hand. “Follow me,” he says and takes me to the top porch step where we always sit together.
“The Mephisto Board is making threats. By now, Jeff has told them about Lena. If I don’t return, they are going to declare war on this realm,” Sorren says.
“Can they do that?”
“Only a CEO can stop them.”
“Can’t you call them from up here?” Desperation is starting to set in.
“They think I’m under a spell set by a very powerful witch,” he winks at me. “They won’t be satisfied until I go down there.”
“Can you come back? After you clear this up?” I ask, already knowing the answer. He has thought through every possible solution to this, and there is a reason he looks so devastated.
“As long as I’m up here, you’ll never be safe.”
“I’ll go with you then. I don’t want to lose you.” I mean it. I would leave this realm behind for him.
“I love you, Evie, but Hell is no place for you. The first taste of the coffee down there and you’d be clawing your way back up.”
I know he’s joking, but it’s also a little bit true. I realize, though, that for him, I would gladly tolerate the boring corporate world.
“None of that matters.”
“You belong up here, in the light.” He rests his head on mine.
I’m not going to change his mind.
This is the cost of cursing Lena. I’m losing Sorren. This is how I pay for using magick against another.
The same guilt-ridden thoughts return. I try to swallow them down, to quiet the noise in my head. I want to enjoy these final moments with Sorren.
“When you open the lines, I’ll go back,” he whispers.
“I’m going to miss you.” My chest feels like it’s being torn apart. He has turned my life upside down in all the best ways. I have no idea what it will look like once he’s gone. Returning to the life I had before doesn’t feel possible.
“I’ll call, every chance I get,” he says with all the genuine sincerity a demon has ever had.
“Okay.”
I agree with the plan, but a sliver of doubt has already creeped in. He’ll be busy saving Mephisto. We’ll talk regularly at first, then things will get busy. Calls will get cancelled or missed. A death by a thousand cuts.
“You want to come in and watch us open the lines?” I invite him in.
“You go. You don’t need a demon skulking around.”
Sorren wraps his arms around my shoulders and holds me to him. I soak up his presence and the feeling of our magick blending together for the last time. We sit in silence for a moment, both of us already grieving.
“Get in there before your mom comes out and yells at me. Witches are scary.” He nudges me up from the ground.
I bite my lip, focusing on that rather than my heart being ripped out of my chest. I quickly wipe at my eye before a tear has the chance to escape.
“Talk soon?” I croak out. Unable to find any other words.
“You bet.”
Neither of us moves right away. For a moment, it feels like one of us might say something real.
“Eva?” Paige calls from inside the house.
Sorren offers a sad smile and motions for me to go.
An errant desire for power leads
To torment, grief, and vengeful deeds.
Our coven waning, trying to heal,
We call on ancestors to reveal
All the truths cast aside,
Shining light where falsehoods hide.
Embracing power newly found
We mend our past with love abound.
We pay this cosmic debt we owe
Reaping the good that we sow.
Goddess Pomona, we call to thee
Heal these cracks and set us free.
Magick spreads through my body, slowly—painfully. It hurts, like a limb waking up from falling asleep. Decades of pent-up energy, begging to be used. It blossoms gently into the air around us, wrapping us in a shimmer of warm light.
The four of us stand there, frozen in time, breathing heavily, adjusting to the newness of our magick.
Our sigil starts to rearrange itself. My smoky quartz stone tumbles across the floor, the iron skeleton key meeting it halfway.
The spruce resin that was sprinkled around the room takes on the shape of a crow.
A quiet pattering of my grandmother's daisy wheel moving across the floor toward the mantle can be heard over everything else.
The Mabon decorations adorning the mantle create a focal point for the elements.
The grimoire in the center of it all flies open, and the pages flip wildly before settling. Before our eyes, our spell appears in thick black ink.