Chapter 10
I worked him a charm bottle, filled with rowan berries to guard against malevolent magick, St. John’s wort for warding off evil, salt to create a barrier, and rosemary for remembrance, then sealed it with wax and my love.
I begged him to hide it somewhere in his house to bring protection for him and his family.
To remember me and carry the story of our love, to never forget us.
My dear heart, Caleb, was devastated when he discovered his sister was the one who accused me of witchcraft. He raged against the decision of the courts, but I told him his anger was for naught.
We are two halves of one soul. We will meet again.
Of this, I am sure.
Present Day
“Mercy Finch’s secret love was Caleb Briggs.”
“Holy shitake mushroom.” Tash said what Mercy was feeling.
Mercy’s stomach dropped, and her heart began to thump in her chest. “I know.”
“That means his sister caused your death.”
“Not my death,” Mercy said sharply. But it still felt like betrayal all over again. And his family had destroyed their own son’s heart. Grief, sharp and hot, filled her. Her chest was tight with the need to sob.
What a waste of both their lives.
“What are you going to do?”
“Help him.”
She had called Tash to see if he was at the inn, but he was out right now. She couldn’t believe that she didn’t have a way to get in touch with him.
“I can give you his cell.”
“Against the law, Tash. But call me as soon as he comes back in and tell him to come see me.”
Mercy’s nerves jittered.
She rehearsed what to say. Mercy hadn’t cursed his family. She had blessed them. So how had love morphed into cursed lore? Maybe Caleb, in grief and anger, had told them they were damned?
She knew what she had to do even if the thought of using a finding spell made her want to throw up. First, she would have to explain her magic to him.
All those mental gymnastics, and still, nothing prepared her for when he walked in the door.
Zane stopped dead. His hair was mussed, and his khakis wrinkled.
“Um, hi.” She smiled tentatively. The wind blew in the scent of rosemary and basil from the pots out front.
“Everything okay?”
Heat blossomed in her chest, and golden light swirled around him.
“I can help you.” Her stomach twisted, revealing her magic usually had negative consequences. But if she had the power to help him, she had to try.
He didn't react, just stared at her.
“To find what you're looking for in the house.”
“Seriously?”
“That book I found the other day.”
“You mean the one that flew off the shelf?”
“Yeah. That was Mercy Finch's diary.”
“Oh. Have you read it before?”
“It hasn't been seen in 333 years. So, no, I hadn't read it before.”
His voice was tentative. “What are you saying? She says where the hex bag is in the house?”
“She didn't make a hex bag.” The words caught in her throat.
“Of course, she did. That's been the lore in my family for hundreds of years.”
“No, she made a charm bottle.”
“What's that?”
“It's to protect people.”
“Why would she want to protect my ancestors? They accused her of witchcraft.”
“She wanted to protect Caleb Briggs.”
“Why?”
Mercy fidgeted. “Because she was in love with him.”
“What?”
“No one was more surprised than me,” Mercy said.
He mulled over her revelation. “Does it say where she hid it?”
“No.”
His shoulders slumped. “Well, unless you're psychic, I don’t see how you can find it.”
She flushed. “Psychic? No.” She wanted to throw up, but she forced the words out. “Magic? Yes.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m willing to try.”
He had no idea how hard this was for her. Her father had hated the fact that she was magic. She planned to do the very spell that had changed her life when she’d been twelve.
She’d been forced to hide her abilities. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. She was compelled to help him.
“I need to find the hex bag, charm bottle, whatever that's hidden in the house so I can reassure my sister.”
“I know.”
She had already put the items she would need in a tote bag. She handed him her tool box.
When they got to the house, she unlocked the door and braced for the kitten, Heka. But the small black cat was absent.
Her heart thundered as she removed the dry bay leaf, her beautiful cerulean, glazed, clay bowl from The Apothecary, and unused white candle from her bag.
“What is all that?”
“It’s for a spell.” Mercy explained the items as she set them on the floor. “Bay leaf for clarity. Fireproof bowl. And a fresh source of fire.”
Zane rubbed his hands together. “Anything I can do?”
She went for total vulnerability. “Don’t judge me.”
“Why would I?”
She shrugged.
“Mercy, you’re helping me reassure my sister.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle, reverent. “I am grateful.”
She lit the candle in the bowl, then took out a pen and wrote, Mercy Finch charm bottle, carefully on the leaf.
Cupping the leaf in both hands, she closed her eyes and visualized the leaf as a compass.
“What now?” he whispered.
“Now we burn.” She set the leaf on fire with the flame from the candle and chanted. “Leaf of laurel, leaf of green, show me where the lost has been.”
They waited.
Nothing happened.
Maybe her stress was blocking the magic, like magical performance anxiety because she was dreading the moment when he looked at her with disgust.
Zane waited, but nothing happened. Anticipation faded from Mercy's face, and she said, “I don't understand. This should have worked.”
Zane was disappointed, yes, but he was more worried about how upset she appeared to be.
“How is it supposed to work?” he asked curiously.
“You write the name of the lost object on the bay leaf and then ask for the universe to show you where the lost item is.”
“Maybe the item name is wrong.” Zane stood in the empty house and let the silence surround him. “You wrote Mercy Finch charm bottle. Maybe you're looking for Caleb's charm bottle.”
“Huh, you might be right.”
“Let's try again.”
Mercy nodded and took another bay leaf out of her bag. This time she wrote Caleb's charm bottle on the leaf. Cupping it in both hands, she closed her eyes.
A peaceful, intense look flowed over her features. She set the leaf on fire with the flame from the candle and chanted the saying again.
Without hesitation, Mercy walked over to the staircase and placed her hand on the newel post. “It led me here. Maybe it’s underneath a step?”
But Zane was already reaching for the tools.
“No,” he exclaimed. “Old newel posts were frequently hollow. There are myths about people putting their paid off mortgages in them, which doesn’t make sense because the mortgage didn’t exist back then. But maybe Caleb did hide something in this one.”
“You think it might be in there?”
“I think we've got to find out.” Zane made quick work of the cap, using the claw end of the hammer for leverage, and removing the cap gently. With a flashlight, he peered inside.
“There's something there,” he exclaimed. Reaching his hand into the hollow newel post, he pulled out an old bottle, not very large, but full of leaves and berries with a faded wax seal.
“This is it.”
“Caleb did hide the charm bottle,” she said with wonder in her voice.
“Wait a minute, there's something else in here.” Zane reached in again and pulled out a very old parchment.
He read the words slowly. “This protection comes from my beloved. They cursed my dear heart, so I lied, told them that she damned them all. To give them a lifetime of dread—for their greed stole a lifetime from us.”
Zane slumped, relief in his bones. “There is no curse.”
“Meeeooowwww.” Heka was back, rubbing against Zane’s ankles. Could the cat know he needed comfort?
Mercy studied the cat. “Now that you know, will your sister be okay?”
“I’ll tell her that she is protected,” Zane said. “It was the power of suggestion and lingering guilt that cursed our family.”
“You’re free.” Mercy’s smile lifted his heart.
“Because of you!” Zane grabbed her around the waist and swung her around. “Thank you.”
She threw her arms around him to hold on. “I’m glad I could help. It’s unfortunate that your sister believed for so long.”
Zane set her down, then tugged her closer. His family had killed her ancestress. How would she ever get over that? “You ever wish you could forget the past?”
“Unfortunately, that’s not an option. I live with the past every day.” Mercy swayed toward him.
He wanted her so much, even knowing that nothing could come of it. “This is a bad idea.”
“True. Bad ideas make the best mistakes,” Mercy whispered. The light swirled around them. The flame from the candle burst higher, sparking in the air.
“Whoa.” Zane set Mercy down and grabbed the bowl before the spontaneously combusting candle could catch the house on fire. He blew out the flame.
That was kind of like the rosemary in the bar last night.
She dropped her head and sighed.
“What was that?”
For a second, he thought she was going to lie to him. “Nothing.”
“It didn’t feel like nothing.”
“Sometimes when I’m excited or happy… things happen.”
He laughed with delight. “What kind of things?”
She shrugged. “It’s always different but you seem to inspire… light.”
He thought about the past few days. The rosemary, the lights in her backyard, the candle. Her reaction to him had done that?
“You’re a walking celebration.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“Let’s celebrate properly.”
He drew her to him and kissed her.