Chapter 34
“So let me get this straight: When you were in bakery school you put a fate spell on a guy you were dating, but it backfired when he accidentally harnessed it against you and hexed you, so that everyone who falls in love with you will get hurt. And you and Scott have broken up because the hex was trying to kill him, and your mother is crying in the bedroom and making it snow inside the house because you never told her any of this. Does that about sum it up?”
Robert Whitlock leaned against the kitchen counter, a cooling mug of coffee in his hand.
If you forget the part where I’m also queer, then yes, Dina thought.
“That about covers it,” she said instead.
Her father let out a long sigh, then came over to squeeze her shoulder.
“You know you can tell us anything, and we’d never judge you for it.” Dina leaned her head against her father’s arm as he patted the curls on the top of her head. She wondered if he was right. She’d arrived at her parents’ house with the intention of coming clean about everything, but the way her mum had reacted when she’d told her about the hex, not even specifying that Rory was a woman, made her doubt how the rest would be received. Nour had taken her daughter’s secrecy as a personal affront.
Robert sighed and put his coffee down.
“I better go and see how Nour is doing. I’m sure she’ll be fine in an hour or two.”
Dina doubted that would be the case as she watched her father leave the room and climb the stairs.
She walked out into the courtyard of the house, watching snow fall onto the colorful tiles. The house had been pleased to see Dina, the kettle whistling excitedly the moment she’d unlocked the door, but the revelation of her hex had left her mother upset and the house confused. It was snowing, and a bitter chill hung in the air. At the same time, fire crackled happily in the hearth, scented like pine and cinnamon.
Dina was sure if she went up to her childhood bedroom she’d find the bed toasty and warm with hot-water bottles and the sound of rain pattering the windowpane—the only way she’d been able to fall asleep in her teenage years. Heebie prowled around her feet, knocking gently against her shins. Dina picked up the cat and cradled her like a baby, which Heebie endured like a penitent.
After some time, the snow stopped falling, and the magic sky above the courtyard, which was really just a roof, turned a deep violet speckled with stars. The shuffling footsteps on the stairs belonged to her father.
“She’s asked to see you,” he said, smiling weakly.
Dina would have been lying if she’d said she wasn’t a little afraid of seeing her mother. Strong emotions made witches more volatile, and Nour wasn’t exactly a calm person to begin with. But when she walked into her parents’ room, she found her mother sitting cross-legged on the bed, holding an old book.
“Aji hdaya,” Nour said. Come here.
Dina did as she was told, but the moment she sat down beside her mother she was pulled into a hug.
“Benti, I’m sorry,” her mother said. “First of all, I’m sorry I never noticed it. I don’t understand, my magic…” Nour looked helplessly down at her hands. “I should have seen the hex in your aura.”
“It’s okay, Mama. I have thought about that too. Part of me wonders if I hid it from you with my own magic.”
Nour nodded slowly, considering the possibility.
“I’ve found something I think you will find interesting,” she said.
A drawer opened and a pair of socks flew at Nour’s head.
“Sorry, yes. The house found something,” she corrected.
She tilted the book toward Dina. Mother Agatha’s Spell Compendium, the title read. It was worn around the edges, the spine cracked and well loved.
“Who is Mother Agatha?” Dina asked.
“You know what, I’m not sure. It was in the attic when we moved in and I looked through it a few times, but whoever she was, her spells aren’t really my style. There is one page, however, which I think we should look at.”
Nour flicked her wrist, the pages turning to land on one. Dina sucked in a breath.
A spell to change your fate was scrawled across the top of the page in what was presumably Mother Agatha’s handwriting. Underneath, Dina spotted many of the same components she’d used in her spell to bring Rory to her all those years ago.
“It’s so similar…” she said, tracing a finger down the page.
“Look there,” Nour said, pointing to a note in the margin.
“?‘Only witches of a strong bloodline will be able to effectively cast or counteract a fate spell,’?” Dina read aloud. “?‘If the person upon whom the spell is cast should fall unconscious during the first month of the spell, it will no longer be in effect.’?”
But that meant…?
Dina looked up at her mother, who was smiling.
“But Rory did fall unconscious. And…Rory wasn’t a bloodline witch, at least I’m pretty sure.” All these years, she’d had it wrong. She’d assumed that Rory had harnessed the fate spell and turned it into a hex, pushing the magic onto Dina. But if the fate spell had dissipated before Rory had regained consciousness in the hospital, then there was no magic for Rory to harness. No way she could have hexed Dina.
Nour nodded. “The hex wasn’t turned back on you, because it was broken the moment Rory had the car accident.”
“But I am under a hex, Mama. Even if it wasn’t the backfired fate spell, even if it wasn’t Rory, I am definitely under a hex.”
But if Rory hadn’t hexed her, who had?