Rowan
Late into the evening, Laurel’s voice carries through the house.
I cringe. Of course, she’s intervening in my planning with Seth.
It’s hard not to be jealous of my younger sister—everyone knows her, most people like her, and Seth is obsessed with her.
Laurel is electric. She has unique green hair, she’s strong and fast, and she’s funny too.
Charming, even. There are enough of us that we all blend into the background sometimes, I suppose, but being born so close to Laurel has made me especially invisible.
She would deny it, but it’s true. She’s my best friend and, though she may not know it, my greatest rival.
Seth’s voice is muffled through the walls. I climb out of my bed and creep down the stairs, finding the two in the middle of the dimly lit kitchen. Seth has changed out of his work clothes already, into a pair of soft pants and a sweater. Comfortable. Cozy.
I push my glasses up my nose, holding the vast grimoire under my other arm. “Shall we?”
“Shall you what?” Laurel asks, as nosy as ever.
“We’re studying hexes,” Seth says.
Laurel crosses her arms and presses her lips together.
She’s always been protective of Seth, trying to keep him from the magical woes of witches.
It’s been more impossible to do so over the last few years, and Laurel has gotten better at accepting it, but it’s still clear she’s fighting a war with herself.
If Laurel had her way, he’d wait for the hex to expire. But I can see how it’s affecting Seth mentally. I want to help.
“Something like that,” I say.
“Cool.” Laurel inspects her nails—covered in chipped green polish, a perfect match for her waist-length hair.
She has fresh finger tattoos, symbols belonging to Hermes and her demon girlfriend.
It’s romantic, I suppose, though I would never give myself such a permanent mark. “You know, I’m fantastic at studying.”
I snort. “Since when?”
There’s no dissuading her. When I sit down at the kitchen table, they both join me.
I can’t explain the prickle of annoyance; something I shouldn’t feel.
Having another witch around is helpful. Laurel is a divination witch and a seer, able to see potential future outcomes. I won’t underestimate her magic.
The truth is hidden behind a veil—the real reason her presence is frustrating me—and I would prefer not to pull it back at this moment.
Jealousy. Again. For no good reason.
It’s not her fault that Seth is in love with her.
I flip the grimoire open. “There are a few generic hex-clearing spells we can try out, but hexes are strange. They’re trickster magic, often enlisting the help of trickster gods.”
“Hermes, maybe?” Laurel fiddles with the necklace around her neck—winged shoes.
“It could be him, but I have a feeling it’s a trickster love god in this case.” I shrug. “Aphrodite is considered a trickster deity by some. Or perhaps no god at all. There are other ways to call into the power for a simple hex.”
Seth peers at the book over my shoulder, but I doubt he knows what he’s looking at. “Are we going to do this one?”
“It requires a full moon. Are you willing to wait a month?”
He groans. “I guess.”
I flip the page. “I believe the best course of action is to find the witch who cast the hex. That’s the only foolproof way to remove the spell, and it allows us to make things right.”
Seth’s face, usually so jovial, becomes serious. “I guess that’s true. But how are we going to do that?”
Laurel’s eyes light up. “I have an idea…”
“No tarot,” I say, shaking my head.
As much as I respect the form of divination, it isn’t my favorite. It’s too emotional. Listening to the stars and studying their exact positions is far more helpful. No matter how many ways I’ve looked at the transits, I must admit, they haven’t told me anything about Seth’s condition.
The stars aren’t even aligned properly for a hex.
Whoever cast this spell on him is likely sloppy, younger, or lacks a decent mentor.
That should make it easier to break, but it also makes it more unreliable.
Unsafe, even. The witch may be operating with raw magic and intention, and emotional spells tend to backfire—on both ends.
A hex usually won’t do long-term damage, but they’ve been known to cause people to lose jobs, relationships, and opportunities, and even to sustain injuries. If we do this right, we can avoid all of that.
“Why not?” Laurel pouts and crosses her arms. “Maybe it can give us some ideas, help us know where to try first. Trust me, if you’re going to comb through everyone Seth has hung out with lately—”
“The list wouldn’t be that long,” Seth says defensively.
It should be his choice, though I’m sure I can handle this alone. Maybe she can help him more than I can.
I watch Seth with a level expression. “Would you like Laurel’s help?”
I don’t know why I’m holding my breath. Waiting. Everyone who wants to help should be able to, but the idea of him choosing Laurel’s assistance over mine is a punch to the gut.
He shrugs as if his answer means nothing, and I’m once again left feeling like a fool. “Sure. Why not?”
This won’t be the first tarot reading he’s received, and some people—people who aren’t me—find them helpful.
I hold back a sigh. “Fine.”
Laurel perks up, running upstairs with preternatural speed borrowed from her patron deity. I look away from Seth and scratch my cheek, twitchy and ill at ease.
Seth leans closer; his musk and warmth invade my space, taking over my every thought, seeping into every cell in my being. “I appreciate your help, Ro. Have I said that yet?”
“I don’t recall.” I sit up straighter, and he removes his hand. “You shouldn’t thank me until I’ve actually helped. Have you had any more… incidents?”
“Nope. I’m putting dating on the back burner for now, I think. I even turned down someone at the café who asked for my number.”
He wants a gold star because he’s taking a break from dating for a day? Typical. Why I have a weakness for him, I’ll never understand.
I force myself not to roll my eyes. “Good for you.”
My jaw clenches as he continues speaking, and Laurel rejoins us at the table, holding the same deck our mother once wielded.
A wave of nostalgia hits me.
“What spread are you doing?” I pinch the bridge of my nose—mere seconds from a tension headache, truly.
“No clue,” Laurel says. “I haven’t been using set spreads these days. My intuition guides me.”
I nod and say nothing, though my disputes are poised on the tip of my tongue. Tarot spreads, with set meanings for each card, are one of the few things that give this divination practice rigidity. Now that Laurel has become Starbrook’s seer, I suppose she doesn’t require the same stability.
I don’t trust it, but this isn’t about me. It’s for Seth.
“Sounds great,” Seth says, perking up and rubbing his hands together. “Show me my future.”
“You know that’s not how it works,” Laurel says.
“And you know what I mean.”
At last, I roll my eyes. I forgot how annoying they are together. Always bantering.
“We’ll do three cards.” Laurel rifle-shuffles the cards with thick, solid sounds. Once, twice, all the way up to six times. She cuts the deck into three and takes the top card from each deck. “High Priestess—in reverse.”
The High Priestess. My identifier.
Our mother picked identification cards for each of us. If our card appears in a reading, we may be involved—but not always. Of course, the first card Laurel draws is mine.
Laurel squints at me, and I squirm under her watch.
“How did you get wrapped up in this anyway?” she asks.
I glance briefly at Seth. “H-he came to me for help.”
“Huh.” Laurel’s long, lithe fingers graze against the next two cards. “Eight of Cups. Six of Cups in reverse. This is definitely someone from your past.”
His brows furrow. “How far in the past?”
“Less than six months.”
“Tarot’s timing is often inaccurate,” I mutter. “We should probably check the transits. The stars have more to say.”
But it seems no one is listening to me. They roll right along. Maybe I don’t need to be here at all. I glance at the door longingly.
“This journey may take a bit, too.” Laurel points to the eight of cups. “There’s a lot of searching, and a lot of missing what’s right under your nose.”
“But we could avoid that by paying attention,” I say firmly.
“It’s fine,” Seth says. “We don’t need to, like, rush anything.”
“Fine.” I fold my hands on top of the table to keep myself from shifting. This is for Seth. We’ll do this however he wants.
“But you’re the High Priestess.” Laurel looks directly at me, but it’s as though her gaze is in another dimension entirely. The seer, channeling messages right from the gods.
Goose bumps form across my flesh. She could do this work even without the tarot cards, I think.
“In reverse,” she says. “Why is that? What’s blocking you? Confusing you?”
“I—” My voice breaks. “I don’t know. Perhaps the High Priestess has another message.”
I’ve often prided myself on being able to keep my privacy, even in a chaotic family.
My sister being a seer makes that more complicated.
When she looks at me, it feels like she knows more about me than I do.
I’m no longer speaking with my baby sister, but with the version of her who knows everything.
Damn it all.
Laurel’s pupils dilate. “No. It’s you.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Your emotions can cloud your judgment,” she says. “You are fated to help him on this journey. Do not stop, even when you feel overlooked.”
I don’t trust tarot, but I trust my sister and her blossoming senses. I nod and look away, my gaze locking onto Seth for the briefest of moments.
“I…” Laurel blinks twice, coming back to reality. “I need another card.”
No sooner does Laurel shuffle the cards than one comes flying out—the Lovers.
“Oh,” Laurel breathes. “This is definitely a matter of love. A choice made—but was it the right one?”
Seth’s eyes widen. “I don’t know. Is it?”
“You will know.” She looks at Seth with intensity, her pupils growing larger and larger until the blue of her eyes disappears. “You must decide in the end.”
“Don’t scare him,” I hiss. “Enough of the theatrics.”
“I already know it’s about love, okay? And that I messed up. But is there anyone I should be looking for?” Seth asks, desperation dripping from his voice as he leans across the table. “Any kind of person. Where should I start?”
“Well…”
Laurel never has time to finish her thought. Nerissa, her demon partner, appears in a puff of smoke, clothed in a dark red, well-fitted suit. Her dark, short-cropped hair is pushed back, overgrown enough to cover half of her large red horns.
“Ready to go?” Nerissa asks.
Laurel is quick to hop up, leaving her tarot cards scattered over the table. “Yes!”
And just like that, they’re gone, leaving Seth and me alone—in the kitchen, with all the tension of a hex going horribly wrong. The cards are scattered across the table, mostly unread, and we’re left with nothing but questions. No answers.
A typical tarot reading, really.
The front door opens, and Maple and Juniper bustle inside, their noses pink from the cold.
Juniper removes her many layers: mittens, scarf, coat. She stops in the kitchen and looks at us, her eyes narrowing. “You’re doing a tarot reading?”
“Perfect,” Maple chimes. “I brought scones. There’s nothing like a post-reading snack.”
“Of course,” I intone, drawing a short laugh from Seth. “Tarot and scones. A classic combination.” I reach for one of the citrusy scones. “But no. Laurel was, and it’s already over. Naturally, she didn’t clean up after herself… and she wasn’t very helpful, either.”
Seth frowns. “I’m sure there was something worthwhile in the reading.”
Sure.
Do not stop, even when you feel overlooked.
I always feel overlooked.
“Sometimes you won’t see how helpful it was until after it’s all over.
” Juniper inspects the reading quietly, her fingers running over the Lovers card.
“Trust me. That’s exactly how it was when she did the tarot reading for me all those years ago—and every time since.
” She picks up the card, holding it between two fingers. “Is this the Lovers?”
“It is.” Maple gasps. “How romantic.”
“Not really.” I stifle a yawn. “Seth is cursed to be lonely forever.”
“Hey!” Seth says, laughing. “Not forever—just until this thing wears off.”
Juniper crosses her arms. “Have you tried a cleansing bath?”
I blink. “No…”
I hadn’t considered it. Our family grimoire is large but unorganized, and none of us has seen every spell in it. While Juniper is quick to flip through the pages, I’ve never discovered this exact spell myself. I scan the scribbled words—all common ingredients.
She shrugs. “Could be worth it. It will only work if it’s a weak hex, the sort that’s accidental—feeble emotions with no outside magic backing it.”
“This could be accidental?” Seth asks, his eyes sparkling.
As optimistic as ever.
“Of course.” Maple plops into a chair and picks up one of her scones, sniffing it. “A witch accidentally thinking about something to the point where it sends negative energy in the person’s direction? It’s easy to do. Accidental blessings are a thing, too. A nicer thing, but a thing nevertheless.”
“Those kinds of hexes are usually much weaker,” I say. “They only last a few days.”
Which means it may not work for Seth. It sounds like his hex has already lasted longer and begun to affect his mental health. We may be beyond a simple cleansing bath.
“Well…” Seth looks at me, as if he’s asking for my permission. “We could try, right?”
All eyes are on me.
“All right,” I say weakly. “Let’s try.”