Prologue “Misfortune comes to all who choose to live here.” #2
“If curses don’t bother you, you don’t mind the lake full of gators and other reptiles, and you’re all right with rangers swinging by to survey for endangered species, there’s nothing wrong with the property.
The previous owner wants to cut his losses, and the curse has been enough to drive off the other buyers.
He had two inspections done to make certain there was nothing needing to be fixed.
I have the inspection results available if you want to review them.
You hedge witches don’t mind curses, do you? ”
Considering we had the reputation of inflicting them and unraveling them at our leisure, I could understand his point of view—and I even appreciated his reasonings for not wanting me to buy the place.
“I don’t mind curses, and if there is one, well, it’ll be the first real curse I’ve seen that wasn’t just a practitioner giving someone a hard time.
Now, if you have a practitioner giving someone a hard time, that is something I can handle.
I am good at protection charms, and I’m even better at unravels. ”
Most didn’t understand unraveling, but I hadn’t yet met a piece of magic I couldn’t dismantle with enough work and access to the right components. I’d skirted death learning my art, but there wasn’t a real hedge witch out there who hadn’t.
The fine balance between life, death, and everything between separated hedge witches from practitioners. Some hedge witches shunned their magic after earning it, unable to accept death’s chill embrace, but I’d gone on to learn and refine my art to better myself and my neighbors.
In time, my home would develop a new reputation, one of prosperity for those who paid me a visit with kindness in their hearts. And, I supposed, the rest would feel my place was cursed.
Some parts of my magic I still failed to control. Perhaps one day I would unlock those secrets as well.
We crossed the court, where Mr. Haggart showed me the garage. A lockbox revealed a set of keys and three fobs, all of which he claimed. One fob opened the garage, one fob controlled the alarm system, and one fob was for the primary gate leading into the property.
Mr. Haggart opened the garage to let us in before disabling the alarm. “There are three other copies of each fob, which the owner’s agent has and will hand over at the signing.”
“I’m already preapproved for the mortgage, so hopefully that will limit the delays on closing.”
“It’ll help,” he confirmed.
In reality, I had plenty of money to pay in cash, but I kept that card up my sleeve. If I did just buy the home outright, I’d pretend I still had to pay my mortgage to prepare for maintenance and rainy days.
Florida had a lot of rainy days.
“I could be talked into a cash sale, but it’d have to be a good talk,” I admitted, keeping an eye on my real estate agent.
“I could probably take the owner for some landscaping if I play like you’re hesitating over the scrub removal.”
I grinned at the man’s changed attitude. “Now we’re talking business.”
* * *
The house was my personal version of heaven, and nobody would be able to convince me otherwise.
I appreciated the lack of carpeting in the home, and I would love the process of purchasing area rugs to transform the place into an expression of my interests.
I would leave the places where the sun came in and warmed the hardwood underfoot alone, offering the simplest of luxuries.
The grove lived up to my expectations, and an old working of magic whispered of how another hedge witch had offered blessings to the trees and the nearby water.
Baby alligators played where the land met the lake, and a few of the braver ones came up to see what we were about.
One liked climbing onto my toes to bask.
The alligators would be a problem, but not for the reasons most Floridians expected.
Hedge witches tended to attract the local wildlife, and reptiles liked me more than I preferred.
Sighing, I bent over, picked up the little critter, and placed it closer to the water. Making chirping croaking sounds, it vanished into the lake, leaving ripples in its wake.
“I see you don’t mind alligators.”
“I don’t mind them, and I actually like the iguanas.” I would have to take steps regarding the iguanas, and I would create a habitat for them so they wouldn’t disrupt my gardening and livestock plans. “The snappers might be a problem, though.”
“They really are; the species is endangered, and there are at least two nests near the property.”
“That explains the rangers coming to check on them. I’ll keep an eye out, and if one wanders inappropriately, I’ll call the wildlife folks to remove it for me.”
In reality, I’d be making a sanctuary for them and inviting them to their personal heaven within my home. I expected they’d live on the other side of the wall in the buffering zone leading up to the actual property line, but I could use my magic to offer them comfort and safety.
If I had my way, the various species would play nice with each other while on my land and take their disputes elsewhere.
“That will make your life easier, yes. So, do you want to buy?”
“I do, and I like what I’ve seen enough I’ll pay cash to close faster.”
“I’ll ask about the landscaping incentive,” he promised.
I pointed at the section that would serve as my garden. “I’d like two acres of that prepared for gardening, and the rest just needs to be mowed.”
“I’m certain I can get that concession out of the other side when I tell them you’re considering a cash close. How soon do you want?”
“As soon as you can finish the paperwork. If a curse is going to get me this place for a bargain, I’ll even send a thank you card to the person behind it.”
“Dragon,” Mr. Haggart replied. “It wasn’t a person. It was a dragon, and local legend says that one day, that dragon will be back, and he’ll rise from the lake when he does.”
I raised a brow. The events in Georgia had done a good job of convincing the world dragons were real and had returned, but I hadn’t heard anything about Lake Hancock hosting any legends.
“Well, if there’s a dragon, then I’ll see about buying him a pie and welcoming him to town.
I suppose I could try baking one, but it might be safer for the dragon if I buy it.
I’ll certainly have enough fruit trees to make at least a pie or two from the bounty.
But if learning how to bake a pie might spare me from the dragon, some sacrifices need to be made. ”
My real estate agent burst into laughter. “Does anything bother you, Miss Culling?”
“Mosquitos,” I replied in a despairing tone.
“I recommend you invest in good bug spray. You’re going to need it.”
* * *
Upon hearing I was interested in the property and willing to buy in cash, the previous owner sent landscapers to do whatever I wanted, calling to thank me for taking a huge problem off his hands.
As nobody else was stupid enough to buy cursed land, the assessment had come back in lower than what I’d paid.
The state viewed the building as ruins in progress and felt it was better somebody owned and lived in it rather than having it rot on Lake Hancock’s shores. I suspected some form of divine intervention.
Florida preferred filled properties than empty lots, but I’d never before witnessed mercy from a government entity before.
Better yet, as the property consisted of a hundred and fifty acres in unincorporated land and was my only home, I enjoyed the tax benefits of owning a homestead. All in all, I’d be paying less than three thousand dollars a year in property taxes.
I could work a minimum wage job anywhere and be able to afford my new home.
That alone would make any possible curse worth dealing with.
Ten days after placing my offer in, the home became mine, and I enjoyed my first day as a homeowner watching handsome landscapers break ground on what would be my garden.
They’d dealt with the rest of the property first, mowing the lawns and planting a few new trees courtesy of the previous owner, who thought I’d enjoy having some mango, bananas, and agave to go along with the rest of my orchard.
I looked forward to settling into my new life, and I would head out to the local hardware store to pick out my seeds and take advantage of the early spring to get my planting done.
With a little magic, my crops would germinate without issue, fluctuations in the weather wouldn’t damage my seedlings, and no weeds would take root.
When I returned to work, I would do so because I wanted to, not because I needed to.
I’d spent a decade of my life waiting for this moment, and I meant to enjoy every second of it.
My time had come.