Chapter 36 #2
“Because it’s my spell,” Farrah says so that everyone can hear. “And I wouldn’t be here doing it if I didn’t believe it was one hundred percent safe.” She’s got that no-nonsense, no-BS way about her, such that doubting her almost feels like a sin.
I hold out the paper she gave me, and Joyce snatches it from my hand. She puts on a pair of readers that have been nestled in her hair, and when she’s done, she passes it to Tina. Shelby reads it over her shoulder.
“I don’t see anything dangerous,” Joyce allows. “But that doesn’t mean it’s safe.”
“How do you know—” Hunter begins, but he can’t go on.
“You get a feel for spells,” Tina explains. “The ratios just make sense. That’s how people come up with things—they get good at guessing.” She smiles softly. “Like your mama.”
“I’m willing to try if y’all are.” Shelby looks to me. “Rhea, do you have the ingredients? And some water from the falls?”
I draw in a gasp. “Y’all are willing to help me? Right now? Just like that? We can do the spell together?”
“We can’t…We shouldn’t…” Hunter trails off and looks helplessly from me to Joyce. “I don’t know if I can. Maybe the more experienced people can do it and Rhea and I can go somewhere else, somewhere out of—”
“Blast range?” I say. “No way. This is my store. My home. I need to be part of it.” I put a hand on his arm.
“This isn’t like what happened to your mom.
Farrah has used this spell, and she’s here to help cast it.
We’re going to be fine. But if you don’t want to be here, I understand.
I want you to do what you need to do.” I give him an encouraging smile.
“Hunter, this is what we were born to do. Spells. Magic. We’re witches. This is our legacy.”
“Damn right!” Maggie crows in my head. “That’s my girl!”
Hunter looks to Joyce, and she nods encouragement. “I trust Farrah. It looks sound.”
“I’ve done this spell before,” Farrah says firmly. “Several times. Or else I wouldn’t suggest it.”
Poor Hunter is going through some real internal shit, but the women around me are comfortable with each other and the silence.
As we wait, there’s a heavy stomp on the floor inside the office as if the poltergeist is urging us to hurry up and get on with it.
I briefly wonder if it knows that it’s hastening its own end, but maybe it’s not that intelligent.
Finally, Hunter nods.
“If I can’t trust the people in this room, I can’t trust anybody. And I’m not leaving Rhea. Or Grandma.”
I hold out my grocery tote, which includes all the ingredients, plus a jar full of falls water and a safety pin. My Doris bite has healed, but I’m ready to sacrifice the ten drops of blood the spell wants.
“Is there a casting circle down here?” Farrah asks.
“There’s one upstairs. Almost exactly over this spot, now that I think about it.”
Farrah looks up, considering. “Do you have enough salt to draw a circle that could fit us all?”
I hand Maggie over to Tina and hurry upstairs, and whatever happens while I’m fetching my brand-new canister of iodized salt, everyone is laughing together and hugging when I get back down.
Farrah takes the salt and pours out a near-perfect circle on the wooden boards that were revealed when Hunter ripped out the hideous old carpet between the storage room and the office.
The other women step over it and take their places within, urging me to join them.
Hunter is the last outside the circle, and I can see that he’s still worried.
“You don’t have to do this,” I remind him.
“Well, maybe I want to. No point in wishing for magic if you’re not going to use it, right? And Farrah said that the more people involved, the more smoothly it’s likely to go. I’m not gonna chicken out and leave you to do all the heavy lifting.” He steps inside the circle and takes my hand.
“It would be best if Rhea did this part,” Farrah says.
“This ghost seems to have some connection with you, or something it wants to communicate.” She guides me as I fill a small bowl with the falls water, add the ingredients, and prick my finger.
After the tenth drop falls, she gently moves my hand away from the bowl.
I look down, watching the red drops swirl over an amalgam of herbs and flowers and little stones.
“Now join hands.”
I follow Farrah’s directions, holding her hand on one side and Hunter’s on the other. Six witches, hand in hand to close the circle. Maggie sits on Tina’s shoulder still, but she’s keeping quiet. I would imagine that, like Hunter, she’s having some big emotions right now.
The spell sits on the floor by the bowl, and when Farrah nods to me, I begin reading.
The incantation is spelled out phonetically, the unfamiliar syllables as slick as oil on water.
With each word, I speak clearly, terrified that one wrong sound or intonation will start a tornado or an explosion.
Hunter’s hand is tight around mine, and if I pay too much attention to his wide, worried eyes or the sweat beading his forehead, I won’t be able to continue.
There are more words than there were for the light spell, and Maggie isn’t helpfully pronouncing them for me.
I feel like a kindergartner sounding out unfamiliar sentences, or like a kid riding a bike without training wheels for the first time.
I pause, and Farrah squeezes my hand in assurance. I continue.
As I reach the final line, the storage door slams open, banging against the wall as a fierce wind rushes out.
The poltergeist, it seems, has taken notice.