“So, imminent events are more clear?” I asked.
She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a thought.”
“That would make sense,” Zoe added, pointing at the first line of the new prediction. “It says here, ‘the future is ever changing’. We know that’s true, because you saved Mee-maw and that changed your prediction, remember?”
“Makes sense,” I agreed, my voice thoughtful.
“On the other hand, your magic may have just taken a wonky turn since the run-in with the Organization,” Mee-maw put in. “It could be anything. We’re not exactly experts, here. I can put out some feelers online, see if anyone has any ideas.”
“Be careful and cryptic about posting,” Zoe warned her. “Reading is one thing, but the Organization could be watching the forums. We can’t tip them off about any of this.”
“Well, I was going to spell out our exact names and location, maybe an invitation just for good measure, but now that you mention it, Zoe…”
I watched as my cousin backed away from the table, crossing her arms as she began to pace. At first, I wasn’t sure if my eyes were playing tricks on me, but then I looked closer.
Yup.
Something was definitely different.
It was subtle, but still noticeable: her hair seemed longer, more lustrous, somehow. There was a glow about her, a sort of unmistakable youthfulness. And something else, too...
“Zoe,” I said, interrupting her and Mee-maw’s bickering, “is it just me, or have you lost weight?”
“Have I…?” She frowned, glancing down at herself. “I don’t think so. Why?”
“You look thinner. And your hair looks nice.”
“I’ll be darned,” Mee-maw observed. “She’s right, Zoe.”
I watched as my cousin crossed the room to where a full-length mirror hung on the opposite wall. She scrutinized her reflection, turning around slowly before leaning in to examine her face.
“Wowza! You’re not kidding!” she exclaimed suddenly, whirling back around and gesturing at her temple. “And that age spot by my hairline is gone—the one I hated! How on earth…?”
“You know,” Mee-maw cut in as she stood and rolled her shoulders back. “Now that you mention it, I feel a lot better, too. My sciatica hasn’t been this good since…Well, ever, actually. Man, I feel like I could run a marathon!” She gave me a gleeful grin. “You sure you didn’t write a story about giving us back our youth, Cricket?”
I cast around fruitlessly for some connection and then stilled. “Guys, hold on—we’ve all improved somehow.” I stood up, ticking things off on my fingers. “Zoe, you look better. Mee-maw, your sciatica is gone and you feel energized, and me? Well, I was finally able to write on Maude again…” I turned to my cousin. “Could it have been one of your potions, Zoe?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. We all tasted different ones. Maybe it was the chamomile tea?”
Mee-maw snorted. “Chamomile tea is for old ladies. I didn’t drink a sip of that crap.”
Zoe’s eyes went wide. “The cinnamon rolls! I was trying to do a wish fulfillment potion before I made them. Sort of a ‘heart’s desire’ thing. I screwed it up, and was at my breaking point mentally, and figured you were, too. I wanted to make the cinnamon buns to cheer everyone up. Although, now that I think about it, I don’t really even remember what I put in them and didn’t even realize I’d cooked the caramel sauce in the cauldron. I wasn’t even thinking about it, I just sort of did it. Like I was on autopilot. Almost in a…”
“Trance. Like when I write on Maude,” I finished for her. “You must have found a way to make the spell work through baking, Zoe. And it gave us each what we wanted most in that moment.”
“Hot dog!” Mee-maw exclaimed, before turning to give Zoe an incredulous look. “Wait. Pump the brakes a second. You’re telling me that’s what you wanted most right now?” Her tone went shrill. “Better hair and a smaller tuckus?”
“No! Of course not. It was just a passing thought!” Zoe protested, cheeks going pink. “I had glanced in the mirror when I went to wash my hands and was thinking...doesn’t matter. What I really wanted was to succeed at making one of these potions work.” Her face lit up with a smile. “And I did it. The rest was just a bonus, I guess.”
“Do you have any idea what you put into the cauldron that deviated from your usual recipe?”
A shadow passed over Zoe’s face and she frowned. “Actually, I don’t. Not a clue,” she replied. “Like I said, it was practically like I was in a trance.”
“So what are we waiting for, then?” Mee-maw asked, already heading back toward the kitchen. “There’s plenty more where that came from, and I could stand a little less gray in my hair.”
“Nuh, uh-uh,” Zoe said, catching her arm and stopping her. “We can’t just eat them all now! We have to save them for emergencies.”
“Zoe’s right,” I agreed, coming to stand beside them. “Especially if she might not be able to recreate the recipe.”
“You and your logic,” Mee-maw said, sighing. “But I guess you’re right. Let’s get them wrapped up and put them somewhere safe, then.”
Together, we made short work of the cleanup, putting the cinnamon buns in the refrigerator and cleaning up the broken teacup. A few minutes later, we were back around the kitchen table, trying to puzzle out the meaning of my most recent predictions.
“It says to turn on the kitchen light,” Zoe was saying, glancing at the typewritten prediction. “Like, shining a light on the whole thing? The Organization, the conspiracies, all of it?”
“Maybe,” Mee-maw said, nodding. “Could also mean to walk around in the open, you know? And sticking together. No splitting up like those Scooby-Doo kids. That’s when they run into real trouble.”
“The other one is what’s bothering me,” I admitted. “The one from before said to ‘trust only three’, but now it’s talking about a pack of wolves and safety in numbers. Which is it?”
“This one, if I had to guess,” Zoe replied. “It’s more recent, after all. And the future is ever-changing, remember?”
“So maybe we were right to trust Patrick and Trudy,” I said, crossing my arms. It would be a lie to say that didn’t make me feel a little better, especially as far as Patrick was concerned; if trust was now the operative word, then maybe giving him a second chance wasn’t a mistake after all.
“Hey, I’m all for less sneaking around,” Zoe said, crossing her arms. “If this means we can afford to be a little more confident, then…” She shrugged. “I’m not complaining.”
“I think I’m going to go write down what I remember of all the predictions you’ve made so far, Cricket,” Mee-maw said, her voice turning businesslike. “I’m itching to do something. Maybe this will help us figure out if there’s a pattern. There could be some rules to it that we don’t understand yet.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Zoe agreed. “I think I might try another potion. I’m kind of feeling some muffins with a lemon glaze. Actually, I need some more sugar from the cellar.”
“Go get started,” I told her. “I’ll go down and grab it for you.”
“Thanks,” Zoe said, already turning back to the cabinet and pulling out the cauldron. Mee-maw disappeared into the other room, leaving me to tromp down into the basement where Zoe kept all the bulk ingredients for the bakery. It was dimly-lit down there, but I was so invigorated by what had happened that the dark didn’t bother me.
It was only as I was reaching for some sugar that I became aware of a presence beside me, and moments later, a cold hand was darting out of the darkness and grabbing hold of my arm. I nearly jumped out of my skin, sucking in a breath, and what I saw when I turned to look was nearly enough to make me fall over in shock.
Connie was staring at me out of the darkness, looking as white as a ghost, her fingers like ice as they locked around my wrist.
I let out a choked scream, the bag of sugar falling to the floor.
Chapter 8
Her eyes were flashing in the darkness of the cellar, and her crimson hair was as unkempt and wild as it had been the last time I had seen her—which, incidentally, happened to be the time she was chasing me through her shop, screaming like a banshee all the while.
Needless to say, I was frightened, adrenaline rushing through me even as my scream died in my lungs, puttering off to a croak as the shock of seeing her hit me head-on.
Is this Good Connie or Bad Connie?
I wondered feverishly, still fighting the urge to wrench my arm free of her grip. But even as I stared her down in the shadows of the basement, I could feel my anxiety fading. I peered at her more closely as my heartbeat started to settle down, a sense of inexplicable relief washing over me. Already, I could feel her touch growing warm, and something passed through us in the silence, like a burst of warmth from her hand to mine. Like a magical squeeze of reassurance.
My shoulders dropped, her warm eyes met mine, and I knew in an instant that I was looking at the real Connie. Whether she would stay that way—and for how long—was another question.
“Connie,” I said, searching her face for answers. “What are you…?”
“You have nothing to fear, Cricket,” Connie replied, giving my wrist a gentle squeeze before lifting our joined hands up between us. “For now. But we don’t have much time.”
I had been so caught up in escaping the Organization, in protecting Zoe and Mee-maw, that I had pushed my concern for the older woman to the back of my mind, but seeing her again—and not possessed by magic this time—lifted a burden I wasn’t even aware I was carrying.
“I’m so glad you’re safe. And the others?”
“Upstairs.”
“Take me to them. I need to speak with you all.”
I was bursting with questions, but I held my tongue and gave her a curt nod. Wordlessly, I led her back up the stairs, pausing on the landing at the sound of a familiar male voice; Patrick was in the kitchen, talking to Zoe, and fresh concern filled me. I hadn’t been expecting him back so soon. Squaring my shoulders, I led Connie into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway to clear my throat.
Patrick and Zoe turned to me at the same time. “Zoe, I was just filling in Patrick about the good n--” My cousin’s eyes widened when she saw Connie standing next to me. “Geez,” she gasped, lunging for a rolling pin and holding it in front of her like a sword, “what is she doing here, Cricket?”
I held up a hand. “It’s okay. She’s back to normal. For now, at least.” I glanced over my shoulder at the older woman, who gave me a grim nod, before continuing. “She snuck in through the basement—she needs to talk to us.”
“Are you sure about this?” Patrick, who must’ve returned in the interim, had stood up from the table, crossing his arms as he studied Connie.
She returned his look with a solemn one of her own. “You know as well as I do that neither of us deserve their trust. But ask for it, we must.” She turned to face me again. “We need to act fast.”
“It’s fine,” I assured Patrick. “Call it a witch’s intuition.” The Scotsman nodded stiffly, but said nothing more.
“Where’s your grandmother?” Connie asked, peering around.
“Mee-maw?” I called, beckoning to the others as we made our way out of the kitchen and into the back room, where Maude was still waiting on the table.
“Here, here,” came Mee-maw’s grumbling voice as she emerged from the bathroom. “Can’t give a lady a minute to--” She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Connie. “What’s going on?”
“I’m here to warn you. I--” Connie’s mouth snapped shut suddenly, her jaw clenching and unclenching. She took a breath and started again, “You need to understand that--” She broke off again on a choking gasp, before letting out a low growl. “Damn it…I can’t…” It was obvious something was weighing on her, something she was trying to put into words.
Mee-maw raised an eyebrow, still fixing Connie with an incredulous stare as the woman looked from one of us to the next, wringing her hands helplessly.
“What’s the problem? Just spit it out, toots,” Mee-maw urged.
“I wasn’t…myself. And now…I still…” Again, the words came out choked and stunted, and I could see the muscles in her throat working, as if she was desperately trying to make herself speak. Her mouth opened and closed again, and she let out a frustrated groan, her hand going to her neck.
“Connie?” I asked, reaching out for her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m…fine.” But she shook her head vigorously even as she said it, and alarm bells started to go off in the back of my head.
“Uh oh. She’s not going all Mr. Hyde again, is she?” Mee-maw asked.
“Connie,” I asked in a low voice, remembering what the guard who had imprisoned me had said. “Are there things you’re still not allowed to say, even now, while you’re not under their control?”
“Oh my gosh, that’s it,” Zoe said with a gasp. “She’s tongue-tied. I’ve seen the spells for it in our research.”
Connie didn’t reply but the truth was etched on her face and a chill rolled through me.
The Organization had not only possessed Connie’s body to use her as a spy at will, they had also made sure she couldn’t tell anyone about it. I knew they had magical items in their possession—memories of that torture necklace threatened to drag me under, even now—but the scope of their power was becoming more evident, and it was frightening.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Patrick stiffening as he moved to the other side of the room. His arms crossed, he watched the old woman like she might burst into flames at any minute.
Spluttering and clearing her throat, she took a shaky breath in before saying, “I can’t speak on certain things, but ask me questions…and if I can help, I will.”
Zoe and I exchanged a look, and I nodded. “All right, then. The predictions I make with my typewriter,” I said, “there’s no rhyme or reason to them. They just…hit me, all at once, and whenever they feel like it. I thought witches were supposed to control their own powers, not be at the mercy of them.” I pursed my lips. As much of a win as the last two bouts of inspiration had been, the nagging frustration was still there, along with a sense of inadequacy. “Maude tells me about a giraffe escaping the zoo, but doesn’t warn me that I’m going to end up on the wrong side of the hangman’s noose? And then some are super vague, and others so specific. Why does it take a crisis or a potion just to get this magic to work?”
Connie’s eyes were full of sympathy and she gave me a gentle smile. “Ah, yes. Once you realized you were able to influence the result by saving your grandmother after her heart attack, they became more vague. That’s a good step. Those prophecies seem weaker but are actually much stronger because you can take action, effect change and alter the outcome. It’s difficult to master but these things take time, Cricket. You’re only just coming into your power. Often, it can take witches months, if not years, to truly step into their abilities. You should be proud of how far you’ve come in such a short time. Just try to be patient. I wish I could say more, but…”
She began to cough, a harsh, barking noise that made it sound like her throat was closing up.
Eyes wide, I put a hand on her back, hardly able to stand watching her wheeze like this. “Can we help you, Connie?” I asked. “Is there anything I can do to stop it?”
The other woman just shook her head. “I’m afraid not,” she replied with a weak smile.
Zoe winced. “That’s the thing. From what I read, spells in general can only be undone by the person who cast them. In this case, I imagine whoever is in possession of the magical item at the Organization is the only one who can free Connie’s tongue. Is that right?”
Connie froze, eyes glazed over for a moment bef
ore she shook her head fiercely and closed her fingers over my arm. “I can’t...Not much time. Ask, child!” she demanded, searing me with her gaze.
“All right, all right,” I muttered, growing more frantic by the second. Was she about to switch sides again on us? What were we supposed to do if this lucid moment ended? I was pretty sure Zoe’s rolling pin wasn’t going to cut it. “What about our ancestors, then? The other witches of Rocky Knoll? What can you tell us about our coven?”
“Gone. All gone, now.” I waited for her to elaborate, but she just shook her head helplessly, rubbing the muscles of her throat with slightly trembling fingers.
“Okay,” I said. “We can’t ask about specifics to do with our coven or our family.” I glanced over at Patrick, who was still watching the exchange in surly silence from the corner of the room. “What do you know about what they did to her?”
Patrick shook his head, sitting up. “Not much. The Organization found out she had possession of at least one magical item, and was on the move toward this town. We had already identified Rocky Knoll as a hotspot.”
“A ‘hotspot’?” I asked, furrowing my brow.
Patrick nodded. “It’s our word for a place with an unusual level of magical activity. In this case, three witches at once, giving off a low-level magical pulse that we were able to detect with our own technology.” He shifted a little in his seat, his gaze locking with mine for a brief moment. “We came here to monitor the process, and once the first witch, you, was reconnected with her item, my father took measures to make sure that Connie didn’t make contact with the second witch until after you had already been separated from your item.”
“Why, though?” I asked. “What was the point of that?”
“The Organization can’t afford for all three witches to come into their magic at once,” Patrick replied. “That would make you too powerful for us to handle. As for Connie, I was told she was under surveillance to keep a tight rein on things. But the night you were kidnapped…That was when I realized it went deeper than that.”
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