Chapter Sixteen Lyra
I didn’t realize I was still half running until my shoulder smacked the front door.
“Ow,” I muttered, fumbling for the handle, and then stumbled into the cottage like I’d been chased by wolves.
I stopped dead in my tracks. My living room was bright with candles and full of people.
Every head snapped toward me.
Sloane, Broca, Raven, Tam, Deidre, Nova, and Felicity.
All of the Charms. Well, except for Mandy, of course.
Brilliant. This was so not what I needed right now.
“Hi.” I tried for casual and probably landed somewhere around deranged. My mind was still back at Rab’s house, and my lips still tingled from his kiss. “I, uh… didn’t realize we had a meeting?”
Nova, perched on the arm of the sofa, narrowed her eyes. “You’re flushed.”
“It’s cold out.”
“Not that cold.”
“It’s dropped a bit,” I protested, reaching up to smooth my hair.
“Your hair’s a mess.”
“It’s windy.”
“Your lipstick’s gone.”
I shot her a look. “Do you want me to shave your head in the middle of the night?”
Nova raised both eyebrows at me and sat back with a knowing expression on her face.
Sisters are such a pain in the arse.
Ruth launched herself from the curtain rod and zipped over, landing on my shoulder with a soft thump. Her wings tickled my cheek as she sniffed at me dramatically.
You smell like lust, my friend.
“Ruth,” I hissed under my breath, cheeks blazing.
Don’t worry. They’re too distracted to notice. Her tiny paws patted my jaw.
I glanced back at the room. Seven witches, every one of them tired and tense, stared at me like I held the answers to all their problems.
Sloane cleared her throat, pulling herself into president mode. “Lyra, sorry to do this so late, but we think it’s important.”
“Emergency meeting,” Tam added grimly. “Felicity’s found something that might help with the curse.”
A knot formed in my stomach that had nothing to do with Rab and everything to do with the unbroken darkness pressing against the windows.
“Right.” I shrugged out of my coat, hung it on the peg, and tried not to think about the fact that my entire body was still humming from that kiss. “I’ll get the kettle on.”
It’s what we did in times of trouble. In times of joy. Anytime, really. A cup of tea sorted most things out. Maybe it would sort my curse out.
By the time I’d poured myself a mug and dropped into a chair next to Broca at the long dining room table, the room had gone quiet. Felicity sat on the edge of the chair opposite me, fingers twisted together, tote bag at her feet.
“Okay,” Sloane said. “We all know why we’re here, but for the record, Briarhaven hasn’t seen daylight in a while now.
The streetlamps have drained their batteries.
Tourists are spooked. The locals are getting restless.
Though we’ve built up a lot of goodwill in this town, I’m worried it will only go so far. ”
Deidre, who’d somehow still managed to bring both her phone and a folder of papers to an emergency Charms meeting, glanced up. “I had three viewings cancel today. One buyer pulled out entirely. He said it felt like the start of a horror movie.”
“The gym’s full,” Tam added. “People don’t want to exercise outside in the dark. I saw Mrs. Macarthy wearing a headlamp to deliver the mail.”
“Maybe we can start a new fashion trend?” Nova wondered out loud, and Sloane shot her a look.
“Point is, this isn’t sustainable. We can’t ask an entire town to live in perpetual midnight while we faff about.”
Guilt prickled down my spine. “Sorry,” I muttered automatically.
“Stop that.” Sloane softened. “None of this is your fault. It’s the curse. Which is why”—she turned to Felicity—“you called us. Tell them what you found.”
All eyes swung to Felicity.
She swallowed, smoothed her hair back, and reached for her tote. When her hand emerged, it was holding an old leather-bound book.
It made the hair on my arms stand up just looking at it.
The cover was cracked and dark, with faint Celtic symbols pressed into the leather. The pages inside were browned and uneven at the edges.
Ruth stiffened on my shoulder.
I don’t like the smell of this book.
“Where did you get that?” Broca asked, leaning forward.
“In Kingsbarns,” Felicity said. “There’s this little bookshop called Highland Hearts. The book just fell at my feet.”
“But when were you there?” Tam asked, turning to peer at Felicity.
“Och, it’s been ages. But I forgot about the book once I got home. You know how busy the kids keep me.” Felicity was a single mum with two very active kids, and she was always chauffeuring them to various activities.
“But you decided to read it tonight? After filming?” I asked, tilting my head at her in question.
“I was trying to wind down. It’s just so exciting, isn’t it? Being on a show?” Felicity beamed at me and waved her hands in the air. “Anyway, I couldn’t rest, so I grabbed a book from the shelf and, well, I saw this.”
She flipped the book open to a marked page and set it gently on the coffee table. We all leaned in.
The script was cramped and ornate, and very hard to read. Sigils had been drawn in the margins showing intertwining circles, thorned vines, and tiny suns and moons.
Raven’s eyes lit up. “Oh, she’s a beauty.”
“Trust you to flirt with a grimoire.” Tam snorted.
“I’ll flirt with anything that has this many footnotes,” Raven said. Then, more seriously, “What am I looking at?”
Felicity tapped a paragraph midway down the page. “I’ve been deciphering it as best I can since the writing is a bit smudged now. It’s not perfect, but this section… It’s about breaking curses of darkness tied to bloodlines. The kind that cling to families and through them, to places.”
My heart stuttered.
“That… sounds familiar,” I said weakly.
“That’s kind of what I thought,” Felicity said. “It mentions a bloodline that drags shadows with it wherever it goes. Towns fall into disrepair. Weather changes… that kind of thing.”
“Wow. Love that for us.” I sank back against the chair.
Just listen. Maybe this could be helpful. Ruth nuzzled into my neck.
Sloane leaned over Raven’s shoulder. “Does it mention what to do about that?”
Raven scanned the page, lips moving silently. “It references, like, breaking a chain, I guess. Something about unlinking the curse from the dominant line and… anchoring it differently.”
Tam frowned. “Differently how?”
“The wording’s fuzzy. ‘Line to line, root to root, burden shared and shadow soothed.’ It’s half poetry, half legalese. I’d need time to read this properly.” Raven grimaced.
“We don’t exactly have time,” Deidre said. “Tourist season is bleeding out. Remember, we’ve got Halloween and Christmas coming up soon.”
“From what I can gather, it seems that the witch at the center of the curse—Lyra, in this case—has to agree to doing a ritual. We cast the circle, and the spell… redistributes the darkness so it doesn’t sit entirely on her line.
It looks like it’s supposed to unravel the worst of it.
” Felicity looked up at me, her eyes hopeful.
“Redistributes to where?” Nova asked, a concerned note in her voice.
Felicity hesitated.
“It doesn’t say,” she said, giving the table an apologetic look. “Just that it spreads the weight so it’s not all crushing one branch. Like… like taking bricks off a collapsing wall and reinforcing the others.”
There was a beat of silence.
Ruth shifted on my shoulder.
Hmm. I’m not sure about this, Lyra.
“I think we need to be careful here, Felicity. Old magick loves to hide the fine print.” Broca’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her voice stayed mild.
“I know.” Felicity looked around the room, almost pleading.
“I wouldn’t have brought it if I didn’t think it could work.
I just felt like it sounded like the sort of thing that could help you, Lyra.
And the town. I couldn’t just…not say anything.
Aren’t we supposed to bring anything we find to the Charms? ”
She met my gaze, her eyes hopeful.
Nerves in my stomach twisted; however, I did believe that Felicity truly wanted to help. She’d always been so sweet and earnest in her role as a coven member.
Sloane rubbed at her temples. “Raven? Risk assessment?”
“On a scale of one to Broca once tried to bargain with an angry river spirit who wanted to flood the town?” Raven asked.
“Och,” Broca said, looking aggrieved. “I helped the drought, didn’t I?”
Raven blew out a breath. “Look, anytime you’re messing with bloodline curses, it’s risky. The language here is murky, and Felicity’s translation is working from damaged text. But the framework… It’s not obviously malevolent. It’s not a sacrifice or a summoning. It’s a rebalancing.”
“Could it make things worse?” Tam asked, leaning back to cross her arms over her chest.
“Yes,” Raven said frankly, biting her lower lip. “It could deepen the curse instead of easing it. Or shift it unpredictably. Or just… fizzle, I guess?”
“Sweet, that’s super fun,” I muttered.
Ruth dug her claws in. I do not like unknowns.
Sloane looked at me. “Ultimately, it’s your call. If you say no, that’s it. We shelve this and go back to the drawing board.”
The weight of the town’s expectations seemed to press down on my shoulders.
Perpetual night. Empty shops. Worried faces.
My chest hurt.
“I don’t want anyone hurt because of me,” I whispered. “If there’s even a chance this helps…”
Ruth made a soft squeak of displeasure. Lyra…
“We do it carefully,” I added quickly. “The second anything feels wrong, we stop.”
“Agreed.” Sloane nodded solemnly.
Around the room, the others murmured assent.
Ruth was vibrating so hard against my neck I could feel it in my teeth.
Fine, she said at last, reluctantly. But if I say “out,” we are out.
We rolled back the rug to bare the wooden floor.
Broca drew a wide circle with salt and herbs, casting the spell for the circle under her breath.
Raven set candles at the quarters and their flames flickered, throwing shadows up the walls.
Nova fetched a bowl of water and set it near the hearth as a grounding point.