Clearwater Witches Boxset

by Madeline Freeman

  “That’s not all,” Lexie says quickly. “Felix was able to wake Dana before we left. She’s like she was before—no abilities—but… She remembers everything—about Seth and the council and magic. How’s that possible?”

  Dad and Anya exchange glances. “We’ll worry about that later,” Dad says. “First, let’s help Crystal.” He scans the living room before turning back to Lexie and Griffin, squinting. “Where’s Fox?”

  “Still at the library,” Lexie says. “Your text didn’t say you needed all the witches, so he decided to stay. You know—make sure his dad and grandma are all right.”

  Lexie’s eyes flick in my direction for only a split second, but it’s long enough for me to glean his real reason for staying behind: Dana. She told him a truth I was unwilling to share, and now the two have a connection. It’s clear Lexie’s of the opinion this development should bother me, but I can’t dredge up any emotion whatsoever about it.

  “It should be fine without him,” Anya says, beckoning for us to follow her into the living room.

  Crystal is laid out in the center of the room, where the coffee table usually is. White candles surround her, along with a ring of dried herbs. Tucker, West, Bria, and Bridget stand around her.

  “It’s an exorcism,” Anya murmurs, answering my unvoiced question. “We’re trying to remove an unwanted spirit from inside her.”

  Lexie catches my eye, her expression dubious. Tucker, who stands near Crystal’s head, nods understandingly. “That was my reaction.”

  Anya sweeps her hand, inviting us to fill in around Crystal’s body. I end up by her feet, with Owen and Griffin on either side. Lexie joins Tucker by Crystal’s head.

  “An exorcism spell is actually pretty straightforward,” Anya says, standing by Crystal’s side. “It can get a little scary, depending on what you’re trying to exorcise, but the spell itself isn’t too difficult to cast. Since you’re not linked anymore, I’m afraid the psychics won’t be much help.”

  “Then why are they here?” Lexie asks.

  “Moral support,” Bria says, a half smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

  Lexie nods. While the two are no longer connected by the binding spell, I have a sense the last two weeks have changed them. Maybe they’ll never be as close as they were in my reality, or even like they were here, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they remain friends.

  “And, you know,” West adds, “holding her down with our abilities.”

  Anya gives a quick overview of the spell. She’s right—it does sound straightforward. When she’s done explaining, she invites us to begin when we’re ready.

  I take in a deep breath, prepared to take the lead, but Lexie starts the incantation before I can. I allow her to do it. Crystal is her cousin, after all.

  We repeat the words several times through, but nothing happens. A thread of panic weaves its way around my thoughts. What if we’re not strong enough anymore? What if Dad’s fight against Seth somehow diminished our powers permanently?

  Then Crystal’s eyes open.

  Only it’s not Crystal behind the gaze. Bess stares out wildly, body thrashing against the barrier the psychics hold in place as she tries to sit up. “What are you doing?” she spits. “Release me! You’ll pay for what you’ve done!”

  Lexie’s voice rises as she continues the incantation. Anya steps into the circle at Crystal’s side, between Bridget and West, and sprinkles a mixture of herbs over her torso. Crystal’s body twitches more violently, but she still can’t break through the force field the psychics use to keep her in place.

  Anya nods at Tucker, who kneels at Crystal’s head. He uncorks a small bottle of oil to his right and pours it over his hands. Once both are completely covered, he presses them to either side of her face. She screams, eyes wide, convulsing. My voice quavers. I’m worried she’s having a seizure and every fiber of my being wants us to stop, but Lexie’s voice continues the chant with barely a pause.

  A vapor-like shimmer rises inches above Crystal’s body. “Drop your shield!” Anya yells. “Let it pass!”

  The psychics must do as she says because the body-shaped glimmer continues to rise, first six inches, then a foot, then two feet. It floats above our heads. A moment before hitting the ceiling, it disperses like smoke in the wind.

  On the floor, Crystal is completely still. After a nod from Anya, Tucker removes his hands from Crystal’s face. He brushes a few strands of hair out of her eyes and whispers her name.

  Lexie moves from her spot at Crystal’s head and displaces Anya at her cousin’s side. “Wake up,” she murmurs, taking her hand. “Be okay, Crystal. Wake up.”

  “Is there something we can do?” I ask Anya, thinking of how I’ve led people to consciousness before.

  She shakes her head. “Now we wait.”

  Neither Lexie nor Tucker move from their positions. After receiving a text from his brother, Griffin leaves to pick up Fox and Felix from the library. When they return, Crystal’s condition hasn’t changed.

  The night wears on, but no one leaves. Mom circulates at intervals, offering snacks and hot cocoa. She’s as much at a loss as the rest of us.

  I’m dozing against Owen’s shoulder when Lexie’s voice startles me. “I think she’s waking up!”

  My eyes snap open and I’m next to Lexie in an instant. Crystal’s head moves slowly from side to side before her eyelids peel open. She squints as she surveys her surroundings. “Why am I on the floor?”

  Lexie chokes back a sob as she squeezes her cousin’s hand to her chest. “Is it you in there? Are you back?”

  Crystal scrunches her face. “Who else would I be? What’s going on?” Her eyes fix on Tucker and her confusion deepens. “I get the feeling I’m missing something.” She uses her free hand to help press herself into a sitting position.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” I ask.

  Her brow furrows. “I’m not sure. Everything’s jumbled. Maybe… Aunt Crystal’s funeral? I think?”

  Lexie and I exchange glances. “That was weeks ago,” Lexie says.

  “No, that can’t be right,” Crystal murmurs. “It was…” Her voice trails and her eyes dart back and forth, giving her an almost panicked look. “Wait—something’s wrong.”

  Tucker blows out a breath. “I’ll say.”

  She shakes her head. “No, no, no—this isn’t right.”

  Lexie places her hands on Crystal’s shoulders. “It’s okay. We’ll explain everything. You missed a couple exciting weeks.”

  She pushes Lexie off her and stands. “You can start by explaining what happened to my abilities.”

  I stand, too. “You’re probably feeling weaker now that the binding spell is broken. I know I am.”

  “I’m not feeling weaker,” she snarls. “I can’t feel anything at all. My magic is gone.”

  That can’t be right. It’s probably just a result of everything she’s been through today—for the last few weeks. Still, to verify, I reach out with my psychic abilities to take stock of her energy. What I sense is alarming. She’s right, she’s not just weaker. The glow of her consciousness is muted, like my mother’s or my father’s or that of any other ordinary person.

  I don’t know how to explain it, but Crystal is no longer a witch.

  ###

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Madeline Freeman lives in the metro-Detroit area with her husband, her daughter and son, and her cats. She loves anything to do with astronomy, outer space, plate tectonics, and dinosaurs, and secretly hopes her kids will become astronomers or paleontologists.

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