Chapter Five
Lilith
A low rumble sounded overhead as Lilith stepped out of Shelver’s Books that evening. An impending storm to mirror her churning
emotions.
Not that the rain would offer a reprieve from Savannah’s July heat. If anything, a deluge thickened the humidity, turning
the air into hot sludge, which she struggled to drag into her lungs.
She locked the door behind her, leaving the three bookstore cats happily lapping at their freshly filled bowls—Fred’s proper
diet restored.
Rushing to avoid being caught in the rain, Lilith ignored her usual inclination to stroll through the city squares and instead
dashed down Liberty Street to Montgomery Street as droplets flicked at her in warning. Enchanted blended innocently among
a row of shops despite what the store represented to Lilith.
Her steps faltered, weighted by the sight of black candles and tarot cards displayed in the window. Mama would not have approved.
But Essie was right. Mama wasn’t here anymore.
Still, Lilith hesitated. The dark interior implied the store was likely closed. She glanced at her watch. Quarter past six.
Most stores in the historic area were closed by now.
Ah, well. She’d tried.
Lilith turned away from the store when a clap of thunder reverberated through the sky and echoed in her solar plexus. Wind
pushed at her, shoving her back toward the door as fat, angry drops pelted with stinging force.
A wave of tourists erupted from City Market, heads covered with bags and jackets. Lilith turned to the shop, grabbed the handle
and pulled. The door flew open, and a little bell tinkled above her head. She stepped into the sweet, smoky fragrance of incense
and a blast of cold air that raised goose bumps along her damp skin.
The door closed behind her and silence heightened her awe as she took in the curio cabinets filled with neat rows of tarot
cards, candles, and crystals. Art depicting skeletons, witches, and crows lined every square inch of the walls and a chandelier
of horns and feathers swayed languidly overhead.
This went against everything Lilith had been taught. It was wrong. But it was beautiful and fascinating. An ache broke open
within her, a longing she had repressed for far too long.
Warmth blossomed in the crook of Lilith’s right arm, just over her birthmark.
Oh, Essie was going to love hearing about this.
Every item in the shop lured Lilith closer, from the images of witches with dark hair wild and spilling over their pale shoulders
to the silver moon trinkets in the curved glass of the display case.
Curiosity fed her excitement like a familiar drug, making her blood go hot and her breaths shallow.
Mama had called magic an obsession, one that had made Lilith responsible for Daddy’s death.
A knot too large to swallow ached in the back of her throat.
Shoving aside the allure, she retreated toward the door.
“Haven’t you spent enough time running from what makes you afraid?”
Lilith jumped. She turned to find a woman in a loose black velvet dress, her long gray hair twisted with raven’s feathers.
The woman smiled, revealing teeth that were slightly too crowded. “May I help you?”
Lilith swallowed, the words stuck in her throat.
Yes.
She needed help. Answers. Explanations for why plants stretched toward her, why animals wouldn’t stop fawning over her. Why
the earth called to her. She needed to know what all this meant.
Especially that nightmare.
The gritty taste of ash filled her mouth.
Her eyes burned with tears and she shook her head with a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t…”
“It’s the dream, isn’t it?”
Every hair on the back of Lilith’s neck stood on end. “Excuse me?”
The woman smiled and curled her fingers gracefully toward herself. “Come.”
Lilith’s feet moved obediently, following the woman to the rear of the shop where a round table was draped with a paisley
silk scarf. Her pulse tap, tap, tapped with apprehension.
Still, she sank into the plush burgundy chair opposite the ornate wooden one where the woman sat.
The table between them was small, but the decision that lay before Lilith was vast.
The air in the rear of the shop pulsed with life. With secrets.
“This is a sacred space,” the woman said, as if by way of explanation. She held her hand out in silent request. “May I?”
Lilith’s mouth went dry, but she stretched her arm out, settling her hand into the woman’s warm one, palm up.
The fortune teller’s extraordinarily green eyes glowed in the candlelight as her focus shifted to the crook of Lilith’s elbow. “Some believe birthmarks tie us to the past, to our ancestors.”
The birthmark tingled, as if stroked.
Lilith tried to swallow. Before she could muster anything to say, the woman leaned over her palm and sucked in a breath.
Lilith sat forward. “What is it?”
“All women have magic within them,” the fortune teller replied, her fingertip whispering over Lilith’s palm. “But the power
in you is exceptional. Your gifts have reawakened. They are raw. Wild. They must be tamed.” Her voice held an edge.
Lilith shook her head. “I don’t—”
But the fortune teller was not done.
“You are stuck in the past. You cannot be free until she is. You must help her.”
Air fled Lilith’s lungs. “What did you say?”
“The woman from your dream. You must help her.” Those strange green eyes found Lilith’s. “Or you will unravel, one thread
at a time, until you are gone.”
The world around Lilith shrank away, leaving her too large, too exposed. “Excuse me?”
The fortune teller did not blink. The flat monotone of her voice resonated in Lilith’s soul. “You will cease to exist.”
“Cease to exist?” Nerves pitched Lilith’s voice. “I don’t understand what that means.”
“Look into your past. The answers of the present are always in the past.”
Panicked frustration surged in Lilith. “That isn’t an answer. It’s a riddle.”
The woman stood. “That is all I have for you.”
Lilith didn’t move from where she sat, gaping at the woman who spoke in riddles and threats. “That’s it?” Lilith asked, a
worm of fear eating its way into her heart.
The woman did not appear perturbed at all by Lilith’s lack of composure. “You must find the answers soon.”
“How soon?”
The fortune teller lifted her shoulder with casual uncertainty. “You have as long as she does.”
Another riddle.
Her birthmark burned hot enough to make Lilith flinch. “Who?” she demanded. “Who is she?”
The woman closed her eyes, her lids shiny and threaded with blue veins. “Sybil,” she breathed.
“How do I—?”
But the woman rose and walked toward the door.
Lilith did not move from her seat, not even as the woman opened the door and offered a sweet smile. As if she had not delivered
a cryptic fortune to Lilith and told her she would soon be dead, assuming that’s what “cease to exist” meant.
“I don’t…” Lilith stood and slowly approached the door, as hesitant to leave as she’d been to enter. “I just don’t understand.”
“You will.” The woman’s eyes squinted into half-moons with her deceptively kind smile. She cupped Lilith’s cheek in a maternal
way. “May the earth guide you.”
Lilith had never liked people touching her, the intimacy of a stranger’s hands infiltrating the barrier of her personal space.
And yet what should have been awkward was instead curiously comforting, a moment of connection between her and the peculiar
fortune teller.
Reeling, Lilith stepped outside and the door closed behind her.
The rain had stopped and night had descended, but clouds still gathered overhead, swollen and shifting over the moon.
How long had she been in there?
A sudden realization gripped Lilith. She hadn’t paid.
She spun back to the door, but when she pulled at the handle, it did not budge. Locked.
Frowning, she peered into the window, but the shop was completely dark behind the thick plastic. Not a single candle lit.
Closed.
The dream was more intense that night, keeping Lilith from sleep, leaving her to run over the fortune teller’s words until
they blurred in her mind.
When morning finally came, she looked up Enchanted’s phone number. The phone rang several times before a gentle voice answered.
“I had a reading yesterday,” Lilith began. “I forgot to pay. And I… I also have some questions.”
“Yesterday? The man who does our readings on Saturday called out.”
“But I had one last night, around six.”
“Honey, we close at five. At least until I can hire someone new.” She paused. “Hey, you lookin’ for a job?”
Lilith frowned against her phone. “But I was there. Last night. The woman had feathers in her hair.”
“No one I know looks like that,” the woman said distractedly.
Lilith’s heart beat too fast. Her mind racing to keep up. She hadn’t imagined the fortune teller. Had she?
“But what she said was so real,” Lilith’s words were almost a whisper. “That I had to help someone…”
A soft whump came from the other side of the line, like something heavy being set down. “Look…” the voice was slower now,
measured “…I don’t know who you spoke to or if you maybe had a dream and thought you were here, but the world speaks to us
in strange ways, telling us things we need to hear.” There was a pause. “Maybe you should listen.”