Elliot reluctantly hands the phone back to Lexie. “Fine. I’ll set up the meeting and tell you where to find Seth.” His eyes meet mine. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, ignoring the swell of guilt rising within me. Our act of good faith has earned me his trust. It’s too bad I plan to shatter it in a matter of days.
Chapter Twenty-Five
With everything as it now stands and the deadline for making a move against Seth imminent, my parents have given up on their insistence I go to school. After the morning’s meeting with Elliot, my house becomes a refuge for anyone who needs a place to lie low until the school day ends.
Bridget has been in the greenhouse all morning and when I make it home, I go straight there to see if I can be of any assistance. Felix and Lexie follow me.
Bridget’s appearance startles me so much I pause in the doorway, causing Felix and Lexie to bump into me. For the first time since I’ve known her, Bridget doesn’t look like she stepped out of an ad for designer clothes: She wears a simple tee-shirt and jeans and her hair is pulled back into a hasty pony tail. If she has on any makeup at all, it’s minimal enough to be unnoticeable. She glances up only long enough to nod a hello before turning her attention back to the plant in front of her.
Lexie gives me a gentle shove and I continue into the greenhouse. Instead of the gentle tranquility I usually associate with the room, today the energy within borders on frantic. Bridget is clearly stressed, and I can’t blame her. She may have a talent for sensing the attributes of herbs, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be successful in finding the right blend to replicate the Althea root. And at this point, she is the backup plan. If she can’t figure this out, it won’t matter that we know where Seth is, we won’t be able to do the spell that will allow us to defeat him.
“Can I help you with anything?” I ask. “Maybe I could try to narrow your search.”
She presses her lips together. “I’m not sure. I’m looking for certain… vibrations, I guess you’d call them. Not really something I can put into words.” She glances at Felix. “Would you mind if I borrowed some of your psychic-ness to try to make her feel what I need?”
He shrugs. “Go ahead, use me. It’s what you girls always do.” He raises an eyebrow at Lexie and offers a half smile. She rolls her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitch.
Bridget reaches her hands out and I take them, following suit when she closes her eyes. At first the impressions she sends me are vague and unfocused, but they soon clarify. I understand what she means by vibrations: The different energies she’s searching for blend together much like a musical chord. Each quality contributes a different part to the whole.
When she releases my hands, her expression is sheepish. “Did that help?”
I nod. “I think so. I guess we’re about to find out.”
I’m not sure the best way to go about helping, so I begin by passing my hands over different plants, attempting to glean their vibrational energies. But just like when I held the Althea root the day Anya passed it around, I don’t really sense anything. After several minutes of fruitless searching, I join Felix and Lexie who have set up two metal folding chairs in a corner and are murmuring back and forth to each other.
“How’s it going?” asks Felix.
I shake my head. “If I could put a name to the different characteristics she’s looking for, I might be able to come up with some options. But I can’t feel the plants the way she does.” I study the two of them. In my reality, Bria once hinted that the two of them had unspoken feelings for each other, but this is the first time I’ve seen them interact with each other in this timeline. “What are you guys talking about?”
They exchange guilty glances. After a beat, Felix sighs. “Speculating what happens if we can’t do the vessel spell.”
I can’t help glancing at Bridget, who plucks leaves off two different plants and rubs them together. “We can’t think like that.”
“Well, I can’t not think like that,” Lexie mutters. “The way I see it, best case scenario is I lose my abilities—part of who I am. Worst case? I lose my home—my town—to some resurrected madman and I don’t have my abilities.”
I’d be lying if I said these same thoughts haven’t been running through my head, but I refuse to indulge them. “Anya’s had visions about us enacting this spell. I have to believe that means we’ll find a way to do it. Bridget’s got a special understanding of herbs. She’ll be able to figure this out.”
“It’s too bad we don’t have a recipe book,” Felix says.
I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t follow. We already know what things go into the spell. Unless you want to make a cake?”
He shakes his head. “Just stay with me for a minute. My mom’s got this one cookbook that has a list in the back of ingredient alternatives. Like, you’re in the middle of making a cake and you realize you’re out of eggs—this list gives you something you can use instead and get the same result. I was just thinking this’d be so much easier if we had a list like that.”
I press my lips together. “We might.” While I haven’t read through all of the pages in the Barnette grimoire, I know I’ve seen at least one spell with alternate elements listed. Maybe we can find an alternative to Althea root somewhere. “I have something to show you guys up in my room.”
An air of curiosity travels with us upstairs. The old book is still in my desk drawer and I take it to the bed, motioning for Felix and Lexie to sit down with me.
Lexie’s blue eyes go wide as she surveys the tome. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Yes. And before you think I’ve been holding out on you, know I just found it in the greenhouse the other day.” Actually, I have no idea if my alternate self knew about this grimoire, but it hardly matters at the moment.
Felix squints. “I’m guessing this is some kind of witch thing.”
“It’s a spell book,” Lexie explains quickly. “Wow. I wonder what kinds of things are in there.” She feathers her fingers lightly over the leather.
I cover her hand. “I promise I’ll give you ample time to explore it after we solve our current problem.”
The dreamy expression on her face dissipates and she gives a sharp nod. “Alternatives to the Althea. Right.”
“I figure you’ve got more experience with grimoires than I do. I don’t know if there’s some kind of organization to it I’m not seeing or what.” I push the book toward her. “Felix, maybe you can help me put a name to the vibrations Bridget shared. If I know what the qualities are called, I might be able to figure out possible herbs for her to check.”
Felix holds his hands out, palms up, as Lexie spins the book and opens the cover. I cover Felix’s hands with mine and close my eyes.
Once we link our energies, I share the impressions Bridget passed along to me. The two of us sort through them one by one, comparing them to memories of experiences and emotions to check for anything that resonates.
I’m not sure how much time passes before Lexie speaks, but when she does, I’m fairly confident Felix and I have managed to put names to Bridget’s vibrations. We haven’t gotten through everything, but it’s enough to get started with.
“So far, I’ve got nothing,” Lexie says, rubbing her eyes. “I’ve skimmed through most of this and the only entries I’ve seen about Althea are when they’re included in spells—nothing about alternatives. And then there’s this entry that mentions something about when Thatcher Harrison and his wife left town. Whoever wrote it gave them a gift of Althea root to take with them. But, like I said, not exactly helpful.”
“Thatcher,” I murmur. That’s the name Crystal called Tucker the other day. I slide the book away from Lexie and flip through the pages following the entry. There aren’t many more before Jodi’s handwriting begins.
“What is it?” Felix asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing, I’m sure. It’s just… I heard that name recently is all.” A thought starts to form in the back of my mind, but it�
��s too nebulous to grasp yet. I stand and cross to my desk to grab a pencil and notebook. “I’m going to head down and give Bridget some herb options to consider. While I’m gone, Felix, do you think you could try to identify the other vibrations with Lexie?”
He shrugs, glancing at her. “If she’s up for it.”
Lexie squares her shoulders, a smile playing about the corners of her mouth. “Is that a challenge?”
I don’t stick around for the rest of their conversation, but as I descend the stairs, it’s not lost on me that the energy between them is distinctly flirty.
Maybe there’s not so much difference between the Lexie from my reality and this one after all.
In the greenhouse, I make a list for Bridget which she immediately takes to assess. She crosses off a few straightaway and has to ask about a few others. She blushes when she admits she never paid much attention to the names of herbs before now. I show her the ones that are growing in the greenhouse, but there are a few Jodi doesn’t have here.
“I could run and pick some up from the shop. I’m pretty sure we’ve got the rest there,” I offer.
Bridget nods. “That would be good. I’ll work through what I’ve got here until you get back.”
Mom is in the kitchen when I pass. After finally being let in on all the details of what’s happening, I think she needed a day off work to process. She pulls a head of lettuce and an onion from the refrigerator and puts them on the counter beside a tray already loaded with deli meat. It must be around lunchtime.
“Hey, can I borrow the car?” I ask, leaning against the doorjamb.
She glances at me, her eyebrows drawn together. “For what?”
“I’ve got to run to the shop to pick up some things for Bridget.”
She presses her lips together. “Okay. But take some of your friends with you.”
I roll my eyes. “Let me guess: One of Dad’s stipulations.”
She shakes her head. “No. Mine.” She offers a forced smile. “Come on, humor me.”
My poor mom. I can’t imagine how difficult all of this is for her to process. I nod. “Sure, Mom. I’ll take someone.”
“Okay.” Her smile this time is more natural. “And when you get back, lunch will be all set.”
I step back into the hall and almost bump into someone. Tucker steadies my shoulders with his hands, and for the first time his touch doesn’t make me flinch.
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I just wanted to see about getting something to drink.”
“No worries. My mom’ll help you.” I slide past him and head down the hall, but before I make it two steps, I turn back. “Hey, Tucker?”
He raises an eyebrow.
“You’re not related to anyone with the last name Harrison, are you?”
His brow furrows and I’m sure he’s going to tell me I’m crazy, so I’m surprised when he responds. “My mom’s mom was a Harrison. How’d you know?”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing. Just… Nothing.”
He squints. “Well, okay then.”
As I turn and head toward the living room to find someone to come with me to the shop, a swell of guilt rises. I do my best to shake off the feeling. I don’t really know anything. It could just be a coincidence. Maybe Crystal had come across Thatcher’s name in her family’s grimoire. She knows quite a bit about the town’s history, so maybe she had Tucker and Thatcher connected in her head. In fact, I’m sure that’s what happened.
What other explanation could there be?
Chapter Twenty-Six
It’s late Wednesday evening when Bridget announces she may have a new version of the spell worked out. She hasn’t left my house since yesterday. I think she caught a few hours of sleep on the couch in my room last night, but I can’t be sure. She’s been working like a woman possessed, like the fate of the world is in her hands.
In a way, I suppose it is.
The eleven of us, plus Anya, crowd in the greenhouse. We’ve moved all the tables against the walls, but there’s still not much room for us.
“So, are you pretty sure this is gonna work?” Lexie asks as we gather in a circle around the metal bowl Bridget has set in the center of the room.
Bridget sighs, passing her hand over the bowl. “No. But this combination of herbs seems to have the same energy as the Althea root.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” Bria asks tentatively.
“Let’s hope I’m not.”
We organize ourselves in the order Anya tells us—each of us beside the person to whom we’re linked. My skin tingles as Fox and Owen take their places on my left and right. Fox’s behavior toward me is still polite but distant. Although I know he hasn’t been in school the last two days, he hasn’t been over here either. Things still aren’t okay between us. And then there’s Owen. He has been at the house, volunteered to go to the shop with me yesterday. He’s been the same pleasant friend I remember from my reality.
Almost.
He’s doing his best to hide it—and if we weren’t linked, it’s possible he’d be doing it successfully. But every now and then, I sense from him an edge of disappointment. Maybe I should take some time to talk with him about the prospect of us, but I just can’t right now. I’m too focused on too many other things—things bigger than the two of us. I can’t help feeling it would be selfish to spend even a few minutes thinking about anything but getting the vessel spell to work, especially now that we have less than a day before the elder council will try—and fail, according to Anya—to rid the world once more of Seth and disperse our abilities into nature.
Felix raises an eyebrow at me. I’m not sure if my agitation is clear on my face or if he’s reading me. I allow the tension to drain from my shoulders as I press a thought in his direction: I’m okay.
He doesn’t look convinced but turns his attention to Bridget, who places a plain ring adorned with a single ruby into the bowl—a talisman Dad will carry to activate the spell when the time comes. “The elements are charged. Anya’s taken me through the spell, so I’ll lead.”
Nods of ascent travel around the circle and Bridget closes her eyes. When she connects with my energy, it’s seamless. We really have gotten better at joining together, at trusting each other. Although I’m fairly certain this is the first time Bridget has led a spell—especially one so important—there’s barely a flicker of hesitation from the circle about allowing her to guide our energy.
Almost everyone else closes their eyes, too, but I keep mine open. I want to watch.
Bridget begins murmuring the incantation under her breath. There’s no need for the rest of us to copy—she speaks for us all. Magic surges forward, through me, passing through the link to Bridget. I strengthen the connection between Owen and me, keeping track of how much of his psychic energy is being accessed, making sure it’s not too much.
Flames leap up from the bowl, rising several feet in the air before dropping, leaving behind a potent, earthy smoke and a pale blue shimmer emanating from the bowl.
It’s working. It has to be. If it’s not, then why is the talisman glowing?
We’re actually going to do this.
Excitement mingles with dread in the pit of my stomach. This fight we’ve been talking about, planning for, it’s finally beginning. According to Anya, we’ll be successful—but what if she’s wrong? What if she’s only seen part of the story?
I press those thoughts from my mind. We have to succeed. If we don’t, who knows what will become of Clearwater and the people who live here.
The magic surging through me rises. I check to make sure Owen’s still okay. His psychic abilities are ebbing, but not in a dangerous way. I’d redirect some of the magic toward him, but I sense the spell is nearly complete.
Bridget raises her hands above her head, releasing the last swell of magic toward the talisman. Moments later, her hold on the rest of us ceases. Beside me Owen is pale, but otherwise he looks strong. The same is the case for the other psychics.
“Did
it work?” Griffin asks. He takes a step toward the center of the circle but doesn’t move further, waiting instead for Bridget to approach the talisman.
She reaches into the bowl and pulls out the ring. She closes her eyes as it rests in her palm. After a beat, she sets it back in the bowl. “Dammit.”
“No.” I rush forward, picking up the stone for myself. “It didn’t work?”
She shakes her head. “It was close. Can you feel it? It’s getting weaker with every second. I got something wrong. It’s not holding the spell.”
Griffin throws up his hands. “Well, fabulous. What’s next?” He stalks toward Anya. “Are you trying to tell me that in all the years you’ve been planning this takedown, you never came up with plan B?” Without waiting for a response, he spins on his heel, addressing the rest of us. “Why do we even need this spell? We’re the ones who have the power. Why don’t we just use it. We can just pick one of us to funnel all our powers to, and that person can take on Seth. Seems easy to me.”
“Except it’s not that easy.” Dad stands in the greenhouse doorway, arms crossed over his chest. “I’ve already told you—it’s too dangerous to just trust that you’ll all give someone unlimited access to your abilities. Too big a risk someone won’t give up total control. Holding back anything—even to protect yourself—could mean the difference between success and failure. Not to mention the danger it puts the psychics in. The vessel spell protects them because it can’t drain more than what they have to offer. And then there’s the power itself. If you think you’ve wielded true power before, you’re wrong. You have no idea what it’ll be like to have the abilities of eleven people inside you.”
Griffin sneers. “Then let Krissa do it.” He makes it sound like it’s the least appealing idea in the world. “Haven’t we already established she’s used all of our energy before during her first Seth face-off?”
“Except it wasn’t,” Dad says. “All the witches’ magic, sure, since you were all unconscious. But all she got was a boost from the psychics since they were awake. And even that took quite a bit out of them.” He strides into the room until he’s mere feet in front of Griffin, his face hard. “I have been training for this for five years. I’ve been learning how to deal with an influx of powers like this. Like it or not, I’m the only one equipped to harness the full abilities of your circle. So, no, there is no plan B.” He turns to Bridget, his expression softening. “You said the spell was close. Can you fix it?”
Clearwater Witches Boxset Page 71