Of Curses and Charms

by Nyx Halliwell

  “Seriously?” He gives me a grin. “How flippin’ cool is that?”

  I love that there is no doubt on his face about me or magick. “Want to see?”

  He sets down his bucket and puts his hands on his hips. “Of course.”

  Nearby are the remains of two cabins. From what we know, there were originally twelve families that inhabited this area in the late 1600s before everyone disappeared. My sisters and I own the only four still standing.

  I walk to the nearest ruin, a few timbers and stones outlining the original foundation, and hold out both hands toward a pile of brush.

  Within seconds, the twigs begin to smolder, a thin line of vapor rising.

  “Holy smokes,” Hopper says. “Literally.”

  I laugh and it feels good as the twigs burst into flames. We watch as the colors of red, orange, and yellow light up as the flames grow higher.

  The rains last night soaked nature pretty well, but the midday sun is drying things out. I don’t want to set the area on fire, or the woods, so I pick up a bucket, scoop up some water, and return.

  I watch the beautiful flames for another moment before I douse them. I love the smell of burning wood, and I watch the thin smoke to see which way it rises.

  It flows slightly toward me, meaning my wish and spells are favorable, but it also goes slightly right—I need to use my head and not my heart in this situation.

  Hopper is still smiling, and his eyes are filled with fascination. “That was amazing.”

  Turning my face to the sun I smile, too. “I try to focus on my healing gifts, rather than my destructive ones, but I have to say, there’s a lot of power in the latter. Fire burns away what no longer serves and that allows what needs to grow fresh and new.”

  We finish up. Before we leave, I have Spring see if she can pick up Fontaine’s energy in the area. She can’t and we leave, removing the magnetic signs from the side of the shop van just in case.

  At Mrs. Sorensen’s estate, we unload before knocking.

  I’m surprised when she answers herself. She’s looking much better, although her hands shake as she motions us in with a smile. “I’m so glad you could come,” she says.

  “Are you feeling better?” I ask.

  “Much. I even gave Linda the day off. She’s been working a lot of overtime while I was sick, and I thought she needed rest.”

  Hopefully, her daughter doesn’t show up. We chat a few more minutes as Hopper brings the water in and dumps it in the tub. As Mrs. Sorensen and I walk the hallway, I ask a question that’s been bugging me. “Did you happen to know Mariel Fontaine? Your neighbor a couple houses north of here?”

  She looks slightly startled, glancing to the left as we move out of Hopper’s way. “Yes, she was a good friend of mine. I was shocked about her death. A terrible loss.”

  “She wasn’t sick or anything before she passed?”

  “She was having a few bad days, but always seemed in good health. Her poor husband is lost without her. Apparently, she was just sitting in a chair reading when her heart stopped.”

  The memory of that open book flashes across my mind. “You know her husband, too?”

  We enter the bathroom and I remove the bracelets from my wrist so I can put my hands in the water to warm it.

  “I don’t know Kaan as well as I did Mariel, but yes.”

  Hesitancy in her voice makes me look at her. “You don’t like him, do you?”

  Her eyes slide away from mine again and she fiddles with the hem of her shirt, pulling off an invisible thread. “He tends to keep to himself. I do know he was completely devoted to Mariel. Her happiness and well-being always came first.”

  The hot spring water is soft and caressing underneath my hands as I send heat into it. “What will he do now that she’s gone?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him since the funeral.”

  The water begins to warm. “It appears he’s selling the house.”

  She raises an eyebrow, as if this is news to her. “I guess it is pretty big for him. Mariel always envied my having two daughters. She lost several children when they were babies. I don’t know why they never adopted like we did.”

  I give her a look of surprise. “Your daughters look so much like you. I would have never guessed.”

  “That’s what everyone tells me.” She smiles like a true proud mother. “They do resemble me to a certain extent.”

  Adoption. Hmm. “I don’t mean to pry, but…?”

  I clamp down on my nosey question. It’s not fair to put her on the spot and curiosity does indeed sometimes kill the cat. Or bring a dark wizard into your world.

  “I don’t have many secrets at my age, Summer,” she says with a soft chuckle. “There’s a bit of mental illness in my family, and although at times I’ve felt a little crazy myself, it seems to have skipped me. I simply couldn’t imagine taking the chance and passing it on to a child.”

  Boy, I can understand that. “How long has your husband been gone?”

  “Oh, it’s been many years now. I know how Kaan feels—this house is too big for me—but I can’t leave the memories, you know? It’s probably difficult for him to live there without Mariel, but worse to think about leaving. The house belonged to her family, and since there’s none of them left, I guess he figures it’s best to sell it and move on.”

  “I didn’t realize it was a family estate.”

  “The house is over a hundred years old, and previously, Mariel’s ancestors built a different home on it, I believe. I think she said it burnt down in a fire, and some of her great-grandparents rebuilt it into what it is now.”

  “So, you think Kaan will go somewhere else?”

  She waves a hand in the air, glancing out the window. “I have no idea. Why all this interest in the house? Are you in the market for one?”

  When I glance at her, she winks. “Just curious. You know I love old houses and the history behind them.”

  She sits on the toilet seat lid and leans forward. “You know, a great-grandparent of Kaan’s was an early explorer who came across the United States to this area. I believe he was one of the first to stake out Raven Falls. In fact, if I remember correctly, I believe he lived in a cabin on your land. Lost his wife, so it was just him and two sons.”

  My interest is peaked—and not in a good way. One of Kaan’s ancestors might have lived in my cabin? Yikes.

  The water begins to boil. I remove my hands, shutting off my fire element. I don’t want the water to scorch my dear client. “Was his wife in the group that disappeared without any reason?”

  I don’t mention the evil in the woods—the Master—because that would no doubt scare her, and who knows if she even believes in such stuff, even as open-minded as she is about witchcraft and magick?

  “It’s quite an interesting story, from what I understand,” Mrs. Sorensen says. “He and his wife traveled up from Mexico. Took them years before they ended up in this area. They had two sons, and he took the boys north of here on a trip. He was a botanist or something and was creating a book on the trees and fauna. When they returned, everyone was gone, including his wife.”

  I do a mental head slap. The journal. “How awful for him and his children.”

  “I believe him and the two boys were the only survivors. It’s sad.”

  I dry my hands and help her stand. “Would you like us to stay until you’re done? Just to make sure everything’s okay?”

  She goes to a small transistor radio on the vanity—I bet Hopper would love to get his hands on that—and turns to a classic station. “That’d be lovely dear, but I know you have other things to do. How about I text as soon as I’m out to reassure you I’m okay?”

  “If I don’t hear from you in half an hour or so, I’ll be back to check on you.”

  She hugs me and I let myself out of the bathroom.

  Hopper is nowhere to be found downstairs, so I figure he’s waiting in the van. I close the front door behind me as I step onto the porch.<
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  Hopper’s at the bottom of the steps. My heart nearly stops when I see who’s joined us.

  Near the fountain is Fontaine.

  15

  “I believe you have something that belongs to me,” he says. “I’d like it back.”

  I fly down the steps. “Leave us alone.”

  Hopper touches my wrist with his fingertips. “What is it you think I have?”

  “You were at my estate sale, weren’t you? There was a book—a family heirloom—and several boxes of jewelry. It was a mix up—none of that was supposed to be sold.”

  He takes a step toward us and I put my arm out, as if that’ll protect Hopper, “Stay back.”

  “If we return the items,” Hopper says, “will you leave us alone?”

  One corner of the wizard’s mouth twitches. “I have no beef with either of you. I simply want my wife’s belongings.”

  I know which book he’s talking about—the journal. “I know what you are, so forgive me, if I don’t believe that’s all you want.”

  Another twitch. “And I know what you are, little Firestarter. You and your sisters cannot begin to fully understand or contain the beast in the woods.”

  “The beast?” Hopper asks.

  “I’ll explain later,” I say, but what I’m thinking is, blood and bones, why did Fontaine have to bring that up? “I suppose you’d like to be the one to raise it. You should know it’s just as likely to destroy you as it is us.”

  A hint of sadness enters his eyes. “My soul is already dammed, but I have no desire to rush head long into the fires of hell. Contrary to what you believe, all I want is to be left alone, but I require my items first.”

  “Why, because you know I’ll figure out the truth of Mariel’s death?”

  He cocks his head, surprise in his obsidian eyes. “What do you know about that?”

  “I know it wasn’t due to natural causes and you’ve been working dark magick for a lot of years. I know about your ancestors that escaped the Master—the beast—three hundred years ago, and I’m wondering what kind of sacrifices you’ve been making to it.”

  I’m totally guessing about all of that, hoping to trigger an admission about who he is and what he’s done to Mariel.

  He steps forward, and my palms heat, ready to throw fire. “I want the journal back. The jewelry, too. Deliver it tonight and you’ll never see me again.”

  Before we can respond he disappears into thin air.

  “Where did he go?” Hopper looks around frantically.

  “He’s an expert at his craft, I’ll give him that. Come on.” I drag Hopper to the van. “We need to get out of here.”

  Back at Conjure, Autumn is minding the shop, Spring is baking. We take over kitten duty, and I hunt down Winter. She and Dad are sitting on the porch. “Did you finish reading the journal Hopper brought?”

  The afternoon is growing hot and I wonder how she can stand wearing black clothes all summer. Godfrey sits on one of the steps, licking his paws. “Not yet,” she says. “Why?”

  Hopper and I bring her and Dad up to speed on what happened. Spring ventures out and leans on the railing as I’m telling our story. “He wants the journal, along with the jewelry, and if it will get him off our backs, I’ll give it to him.”

  “You really think he’ll leave,”—Spring’s eyes shift to Hopper then return to me— “us alone if he gets his stuff back?”

  She emphasizes us, but what she means is Hopper.

  I don’t think he will, but I ask, “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

  Dad leans forward in his chair. “Gather the man’s possessions and I’ll take them to him.”

  A part of me feels relieved he’d do this for me. Another feels fear. I can’t send him to deal with Fontaine.

  We lost Mom less than a year ago, and if anything were to happen to him, I couldn’t stand it. “I’m not taking it directly to him, and neither are you. I have a plan.”

  Hopper cradles Chopin, the little orange tabby who is a big eater but still too skinny. “I’m not letting you go alone if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  My knight in shining armor. I know he’s dying to ask more about the “beast” in the woods, but he’s holding back on it. My heart swells a little.

  Dad always says a plan is only good if it can be changed. “None of us are going to be there when Fontaine shows up. I’ll take the items to a neutral location and he can meet me there. Or I’ll leave them, then let him know where and he can pick them up.”

  Godfrey speaks inside my head. Bad idea, human. You’re not smart enough to take him on.

  “Do you really think he won’t come after us, regardless?” Winter asks again. “You know better than that, Summer. Black magick wizards don’t just turn the other cheek.”

  Spring sits on the wooden porch boards and pets the kittens in the box. “I agree.”

  I get a text from Mrs. Sorensen—she’s okay. At least one thing’s going right today. “I may have let myself into his house and nosily slipped around, but he’s the one who showed up at Hopper’s store ready to do him harm. If anyone should be pissed it’s me. The only thing Fontaine is worried about is me figuring out what happened to his wife.”

  Hopper starts feeding Chopin, “What is the beast he was talking about? You said he was sacrificing things to it?”

  My sisters look at me with fear in their eyes.

  Yes, the cat’s out of the bag.

  Okay, so we’re having that discussion now. “The reason so many have disappeared from this area over the centuries is due to something we believe is sort of like a demon,” I tell him. “We’ve managed to contain it in the earth under the forest. I have a theory Mariel’s death involves Kaan, his ancestors, and or something with this beast. That’s why Kaan’s desperate to get that journal back. It might hold answers. Mariel could be some form of immortal who is tied to what happened here in the 1600s, or he’s been using his powers to keep her young and beautiful. I don’t know.” I shuffle my feet. “She wasn’t aging, he’s into black magick, none of their three children lived past infancy. Hate to say it, but maybe they were sacrifices. It all has to be tied together; I just don’t know how.”

  I sense everyone’s eww response. Right there with you.

  “Immortal?” Dad looks pensive rather than shocked. He’s a shaman, after all and has seen and heard some pretty weird things. “I thought this Mariel died?”

  “Maybe her magick ran out,” I say. “Or Kaan’s did. Perhaps they didn’t have the right sacrifice this time. Anyone else have a theory?”

  Dad sits back and looks toward Spring’s gardens. “Black magick does involve necromancy. What if, each time Mariel dies, Kaan raises her? You could be right about the sacrifices. He needs a life to exchange for hers.”

  We all look at him and I feel our dismay ratcheting up a notch.

  “Some believe the dead know all,” Winter says softly.

  “What if they were trying to find out what happened to the lost colony?” I add. “Or, they’ve been trying to bring someone from it back?”

  As if I’ve opened a portal into another world, I feel the one I’m in begin to slip. Everything grows fuzzy, the world spins. I grip the arms of my chair, hearing Hopper yell my name.

  In the next instance, I’m falling.

  16

  “You have to do it.”

  I’m Mariel again. My hand is hers as she grips Kaan’s arm.

  “There’s no guarantee, my love.” His voice is marked with pain and fear. “Surely there’s a better way!”

  My vision is faulty, I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. Anemic light from a frail moon falls over us and I have the sensation I’m lying down, but whatever I’m on is hard and cold like the ground.

  “The beast is coming,” my voice hitches. “It’s growing closer. I’m the only one who got away. You can’t let him have me!”

  Shadows move, then a flash of steel, a knife rising in the air as if held by an invisible hand.


  “Promise me,” I say, barely more than a whisper. “You must promise.”

  “I love you.” Kaan’s voice is far away, as if in a vacuum. “I won’t let him have you.”

  “Swear you’ll bring me back!”

  The knife flashes, trembling in the air over me, and I feel something cold grab my leg.

  I scream.

  Claws tear at both legs now, searing heat flooding through me with a frozen edge. I’m paralyzed, the struggle only inside my mind.

  They reach into my belly, squeezing my organs. “Now!” I yell. “Do it now!”

  “I love you!” I hear Kaan shout, nothing more than a very distant murmur. “I promise!”

  It’s nearly at my heart now, ready to consume it.

  Time freezes, much like my body. Another flash of the knife, this time as it plunges through the air and into my chest.

  I’m falling. The beast reaches for me, but he can’t quite catch me. Can’t reach my heart as the physical thing stops beating, and I feel Kaan’s love wrapping around me, a protective barrier as I leave this world…

  I snap out of the vision as my physical body in present time pitches forward. I’m tumbling to the porch when strong hands grab me.

  A shaft of sunlight grazes my face and the world stops spinning. I’m back in my chair, my eyes focusing on tiny specks of dust floating in a beam of light. My heart jumps rope in my chest before resuming its normal rhythm.

  Hopper’s in front of me, his hands on my arms pressing me into the seat. On either side of him are my sisters. Behind them stands Dad.

  “Another vision?” Hopper’s face is tight with tension.

  Nodding, I feel my stomach turn over on itself. As if with super human strength, I push his hands away, stand, then run into Conjure’s bathroom.

  I barely make it before I heave up the contents of my stomach. When I’m done, I wipe my face and find Winter in the doorway. Spring rushes past her with ice water and I sink to the floor, my back against the wall.