“Err, this is Trudy,” Zoe said, “she’s the librarian.”
Connie frowned. “You’ve brought the town librarian into all of this because...”
“I brought myself into all of this,” Trudy said, lifting her chin as she met the Conservator’s gaze boldly. ”And there is nothing I wouldn’t do for these ladies now. Until we found each other, I spent my time alone. I had no one. They’re my...family,” she added with a shrug.
“She’s been indispensable,” Mee-maw added, gripping Trudy’s hand and giving it a squeeze.
Connie nodded, assessing the situation with keen, green eyes.
“Well, it’s not entirely unheard of. When covens were more plentiful, there were some who included non-witches among their number.” She turned back to me, her expression growing darker, “I heard about Lizzie going missing. I planned to contact you, but wasn’t sure if you would be able to trust me... do you know if--”
“Verbena took her,” I blurted, keeping far more composed than I felt, “and she told us that you’d be able to tell us where she was.”
“We’re going to take her down tonight. Once and for all,” Mee-maw added as Connie gestured for us to sit at a small circular table in the corner of the room.
Connie looked at each of us in turn. Her pursed lips tipped into a smile of satisfaction. “It would appear that you’ve completed the ritual, then. It truly is a wonder that you were able to do it in such a short time. It takes most covens at least a year to get to that point. And given that you found the third item so recently…Simply incredible. You must be even more talented than I’d thought, Cricket.”
“I hope we are, because it’s going to take some serious power to kill her and take my daughter back. I had a prediction,” I said, pulling out the sheet of paper and pushing it across the table toward the older woman.
She scanned it for a moment, shaking her head sadly as she read. “A dark prediction, indeed… Do you know who the seven are?”
And here it came.
“I’m assuming it means us five, plus Lizzie...and you.”
Connie nodded slowly. “I tend to agree. And I’ll do what I can to assist in any way, though a Conservator’s powers do not match those of her coven. As for Trudy and Patrick, do you have anything that will allow them to defend themselves? Protection spells can help, but Verbena has so many items at her disposal, they surely won’t be enough if she decides to bother with the non-magicals at all.”
I nodded slowly, tamping back my revulsion as I reached into my pocket, touching the cold metal chain inside.
“H-have you seen this before?” I said, lifting the torture necklace out and holding it up for Connie to see.
She shook her head, squinting as she examined it and the amulet that hung from it. “No, but I can feel the magic. It feels somehow…wrong. What is this? One of the items you took from the Organization, I assume?”
I nodded, shivering. “It’s a necklace that allows the wielder to torture whoever they target with it.”
Connie’s lips curled in a frown. “A despicable thing. I’ve never heard of any witch’s item that is only used to harm, like this one is. I wonder if it has another use?”
“Not as far as I know,” I said, “but it’s pretty damn effective at what it does, and should give Trudy something to defend herself with.”
Trudy’s eyes widened as she stared at it. “You’re giving it to me to use?”
I nodded, tossing it toward her. “I am.”
Trudy took it reverently, inspecting it with curious eyes. “I’ve always wanted to be able to use magic and now I really can.” She looked back at me with a bittersweet smile. “Not exactly the kind I’d hoped for, but I can’t thank you enough. Especially if it allows me to truly help.”
Connie turned to Patrick after a brief pause. “And you? Physical strength and human weapons will be of little use against someone like her. Even bullets would accomplish next to nothing.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, shooting an apologetic glance at me. “I won’t be totally helpless.”
He pulled his mother’s photograph from the wallet, flashing it to her. “My mother was a witch, as well, and she had the ability to create low-level magical charms out of regular objects. She left this one to me before she died.”
Connie nodded, eyes wide. “Amazing. What does your charm do?”
“It lets me control people, to some degree. People tend to...change their minds when I need them to.”
Connie nodded. “It might come in handy if she has guards around, but I doubt it’ll work on her directly. Try to stay safe once the fighting starts. And stick close to Mee-maw. If something goes horribly awry, she can turn time back far enough to give you a chance to do something differently.”
I didn’t say it out loud, but I’d already determined what Patrick’s role would be in this fight. I just needed convince him to agree to it, which might be easier said than done…
“I know we need to hurry,” Connie continued, “but it’s imperative that we spend just a few minutes going over strategies and potential attacks.”
“Agree,” Mee-maw said. “And I need a couple minutes of one on one time with Connie to talk about my watch and its powers.”
“That’s all fine,” I interjected, “but there’s something important I need to ask you before we continue.” I sucked in a breath and then blew it out in a rush. “I want you to tell me…” I trailed off and tried again. “I want you to tell us about my mother.”
“Ah,” Connie said sadly, closing her eyes for a long moment. “So it’s come out, then, has it?”
“What’re you talking about?” Mee-maw asked before our Conservator could continue, cocking her head and staring at me.
Despite my roiling emotions, I met Mee-maw’s gaze head on.
“If what Verbena said was true, Mom was Maude’s previous owner...and a witch.”
Chapter 19
The silence stretched between us and I braced myself for her anger, but it never came.
Instead, her eyes welled with tears that were a thousand times worse to handle.
“A witch? Bree?” she whispered, shaking her head in confusion. “And you knew and didn’t tell me?”
“I-- no. Not really,” I said, frowning. “I wasn’t trying to keep something important from you, Mee-maw. Verbena was speaking to me in the graveyard and she mentioned my mother. I only just came back to my senses enough to remember it a few hours ago, and I wasn’t sure if she was telling me the truth or just toying with me. I figured it’d be better for us both to hear the whole story from Connie.”
I turned my attention back to the Conservator. “So it’s true, then?”
“It is,” Connie confirmed.
“You’d better have a damned good reason why you didn’t tell us about this earlier,” Mee-maw shot back, anger displacing her tears now.
Connie held up both hands, eyes full of sympathy. “I understand why you’re upset, Dorothea. But you should know that what I’m about to tell you is of great importance to Verbena. She would not have allowed me to share it with you when she had control of me. And in the days since, I wasn’t sure if the information would help or hurt. Even Verbena wouldn’t have shared it with you if she didn’t think it would cause you to falter in some way. Or, unless she was certain that she’d end you all back at the graveyard.” Connie’s face was grave. “She’s incredibly powerful, it’s a miracle you managed to survive, even though she wasn’t there in the flesh.”
“I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about my daughter, damn it,” Mee-maw snapped.
“We might as well start from the very beginning,” Connie said, folding her hands on the table between us. “It wasn’t entirely accurate when I told you that three witches of your coven hadn’t gathered in Rocky Knoll for hundreds of years. In reality, your mother, before her death, was a fledgling clairvoyant, though she was the only one of her coven who actually laid hands on her item at the ti
me. And, technically, her coven sisters were in Rocky Knoll at points during her lifetime, as well.”
“That’s the part I don’t get. How could my mother have been a witch? She was in her twenties when she died,” I said, cocking my head. “I thought witches came into their own during mid-life, if and when they found their magical items?”
“That’s true,” she conceded. “Most of the time. See, it’s the hormonal changes that typically come with middle age, as opposed to simply the number of years someone has lived, that cause someone to develop their magical abilities,” Connie said. “I don’t know the specifics of your mother’s exact circumstances, but she must’ve been going through some kind of early menopause.”
I shot a glance to my grandmother, whose lips were pursed in thought.
“That’s true. Her pregnancy with you was pretty rough. She had a lot of problems afterward that eventually resulted in her having a full hysterectomy when you were young. She’d been going through a lot of physical and emotional changes that most women don’t experience until they hit forty-five or even later.”
Connie nodded sagely. “That’d make perfect sense.”
“But who were the others in her coven?” Mee-maw asked, her skin going pale. “Not Astrid…surely I’d have known.”
Zoe drew back like she’d been slapped. “My mother was part of that coven?”
“No,” Connie said firmly. “That was my initial thought, as well, but when I put the cauldron in front of her, she didn’t give it so much as a glance.”
“Who then?” Mee-maw asked, squinting. “I don’t remember any of our other female relatives living in Rocky Knoll around that time, especially not ones that’d be anywhere near the right age.”
Connie eyed Mee-maw for a long time before speaking. “One of them was a distant cousin of yours named Addison. She succumbed to cancer before she reached mid-life. And the other…well, it was you.”
The revelation hit me like a bombshell, but Mee-maw’s face made it clear that she’d been hit even harder.
She began to blink and sputter in confusion. “Me?”
“Unfortunately,” Connie continued, “I still didn’t have the pocket watch in my possession. I was taking steps to locate it when Bree was killed. Given the questionable circumstances of her untimely death, I decided it was better to wait. Forming a coven of just the two of you would only put you in needless danger from the Organization. Addison was dead. We’d lost Bree. You’d never have been able to reach your full potential without them, and the power that comes with a coven being whole would never be yours. That decision haunted me once Verbena took control of me, and I feared that I’d doomed the Crow’s Feet Coven and every other coven around the globe by not sharing what I knew about the pocket watch.”
“Who cares if our line ended there? Why let the coven go on at all?” Zoe asked, eyes fiery. “You should’ve let the items rot a hundred years ago. Aunt Bree would still be alive right now. Lizzie would be safe…”
“Believe me, I can hardly count the amount of times I’ve considered letting these items stay dormant to prevent new witches from being targeted for their power. But I’ve seen many futures where the Organization ends up ruling the world, with Verbena at the helm. They cannot be left with magic, unchecked.” The fury lighting her eyes dimmed, and grief took its place. “But continuing the fight comes with a steep price. And it’s a double-edged sword, at that, because any loss could mean gifting them with new items to add to their arsenal. It has to end here and now, with this coven. We must defeat Verbena and the Organization, no matter the cost.”
The others were clearly enthralled with Connie’s passionate speech, but my mind was whirring as a thought occurred to me.
“What happened after Mom got the typewriter?” I asked. “Did she even learn how to use it?”
“She didn’t have it for very long,” Connie said sadly. “I found her and gave it to her, much like I found you, and she began to develop a bond with it. Somewhere along the way, however, Verbena must’ve caught wind of her and had someone keeping tabs on her progress.” She frowned, looking down at the table, as she added, “I hate to say it, but there’s a chance that she’d been monitoring me, even then.”
Mee-maw’s eyes filled with tears and Zoe put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“She was still finding her way and trying to develop when, apparently, Verbena came upon some kind of prediction that Bree had made. Then, everything changed. Rather than waiting for the item to be fully powered, or allowing the coven to connect, she decided that Bree had to be dealt with immediately, with no regard for the ritual or charging of the typewriter,” Connie said, shaking her head. “You already know what happened next.”
Somehow, even after all these years, the wound left by my mother’s death still seemed fresh and I could hardly keep my composure as I considered it. “And my father?” I asked shakily. “They died in the same car accident.”
Tears came to her eyes as she shrugged. “Collateral damage. The same for the man she coerced to swerve onto your parents’ side of the road.”
My rage toward Verbena deepened even more. No amount of suffering could excuse this kind of callousness and disregard for human life.
“Do you know where she is?” I asked, standing up from my seat to pace back and forth. “She made it clear she was hiding in plain sight for us to find her.”
“I sensed a strange presence around the abandoned factory where you were taken for the ritual,” Connie said carefully, “and none but her could produce such powerful magical energy.”
I nodded. “We need to go.”
Connie shook her head. “Do you have any other magical items in your possession, besides the ones in the coven and the mirror you used to show my intentions earlier?”
“Yes,” I said. “We have a jewelry box that creates riches, a candle that lets us commune with dead witches, and the necklace, of course.”
“We’ll take them all.”
“Are you sure?” Zoe asked, shaking her head. “If we lose, then we’re essentially handing Verbena--”
“If we lose, it won’t matter anyway. She’ll get those items regardless,” Connie said, “but we won’t lose, not this time. We can’t.”
Mee-maw sliced a hand through the air. “We need to use the candle to speak with my daughter. Before we go.”
Zoe opened her mouth, and then closed it as I shot her a warning look.
“Mee-maw, I want to talk to her, too. But every hour that passes decreases our chance of success,” I pleaded. “Maude was very specific, and we’ve already spent so much time…”
Mee-maw shook her head, firming her chin mulishly as tears glazed her gray eyes. “She was a witch. We can use the candle to contact her and ask about the prophecy, too.”
I shook my head. “Whatever it was caused Verbena to give up on controlling the Crow’s Feet Coven items and kill her outright. The whys don’t matter. There’ll be time enough to figure that out after we defeat Verbena and save Lizzie.”
Mee-maw seemed to waver and I pressed my advantage.
“I can’t lose Lizzie. I won’t survive it. I’m not as strong as you are. Please, Mee-maw…”
I took her hand and squeezed, again feeling the passage of every single precious second.
Connie’s soft voice broke in. “If we lose, you won’t have to worry about using the candle to speak with her because you’ll have joined her in the afterlife. And I can promise you, that one is far better than this.”
Mee-maw hesitated for another moment, and then nodded.
“All right, then. Let’s show this witch what the Crow’s Feet Coven is made of.”
Chapter 20
The sky was no washed out, watercolor black. It was a thick, October onyx, with a silvery hole punched out of the middle where the moon poked through. The wind whipped with wild abandon, neither East nor West. I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath of the crisp, cold air as a vague memory fluttered through my consciousness.<
br />
The smell of apples and cinnamon swamped my senses, and I could hear my mother’s musical voice lilting in my ear as a breeze fluttered through our open kitchen window.
“I always love autumn nights like this. It feels…witchy out there tonight, doesn’t it?”
“You ready?”
Patrick’s voice broke through my daze and I shook my head to clear it.
“Yeah,” I said with a still nod. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
He reached out and gave my shoulder a squeeze, holding my gaze as he did so. “We’re going to get her back, Cricket. I swear to you on my mother’s soul, I won’t leave here without her.”
I stared at him for a long moment, too overcome with a rush of gratitude and emotion to answer right away. How did he already know me so well that he’d managed to find the exact right thing to say at a moment like this? A moment when we knew the chances of all of us walking out were slim to none. He wasn’t my family, or my husband. He wasn’t Lizzie’s father. But here he was, ready to lay his life on the line for my daughter.
Maybe he’d been blinded by his anger and feeling of abandonment. And maybe the way we’d met had been manufactured, and even unintentionally assisted by his magic. But suddenly, none of that mattered anymore. Whatever sins he’d committed in the past, today? Right now?
He was a man of honor. One I trusted with my life.
“I can’t tell you how much that means to me. Which makes it even harder to ask something more of you,” I replied, covering his hand with my own. “I also need you to promise me that, if it comes to a choice, you’ll choose Lizzie. Can you do that, Patrick?”
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