Sky nodded. “I had no intention of casting that spell over Aiden. None at all.”
“Then it can’t be that strong to begin with. It’s like chopping wood. You’ve got to put your weight behind the ax to make it cut. Otherwise, it just bounces off.”
“The spell didn’t bounce though,” Sky pointed out.
“Maybe not,” Bryony said. “But chances are, that spell will wear off on its own in no time. And Aiden will have no idea that you ever cast it.”
She smiled, a slow, wicked little smile.
“So,” she said. “I say, enjoy it while lasts.”
Sky tugged the sleeves of her coat down over her knuckles. It was the solution she had been hoping that Bryony would manage to conjure up for her. This was the answer she had always wanted.
Aiden would never know the truth. Sky could revel in the fact that she finally had an admirer for once in her life, rather than ignored as an inconsequential witch who could only read tea leaves.
“Hazel suggested that I should be honest with Aiden,” Sky said. “Tell him what happened.”
Bryony made a face. “I love Hazel dearly. But sometimes, she doesn’t seem to understand that we’re witches. We’re bound to be dishonest at some point or another.”
“That’s a terrible excuse.”
“Sometimes the truth is terrible. And anyway, how can your situation be any different from a normal relationship? Once the honeymoon wears off, it’s like everything goes downhill from there.”
Sky closed her eyes. Then again, that was the hitch she hadn’t thought of when it came to asking for Bryony’s advice.
Bryony had no time for a love life. Or so she claimed. And she didn’t seem to understand anyone else’s desire to bother with a love life.
“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Sky said. “Some people get married and stay happy together for the rest of their lives.”
Bryony cast a sideways glance at her, as if to say, you’ve got to be joking.
“If you’re hoping a happily ever after will come out of this bumbled business with Aiden,” she said. “You might have to cast a different spell over him.”
“That’s not fair,” Sky said quietly.
Bryony’s posture softened with apology.
“Says the girl who bewitched her crush to fall in love with her,” she replied. “That’s not really fair either.”
“He’s not my crush.”
“Then why did it take you weeks to visit Spellbound when it was only two blocks from your house?”
“I was—“
“Hiding,” Bryony cut in.
“Busy,” Sky countered with a glare. “Besides, I know this whole situation isn’t fair, to him or to me or to anyone else so I have no desire to continue it. I’d like to clear it up as soon as possible. Which is why I came to you for help.”
She bowed her head, toeing at the grass with her boot.
“I want someone to fall in love with me because of me, Bryony,” she said. “Not because magic has blinded them.”
Bryony sighed and wrapped an arm around Sky’s shoulder.
“I don’t get the big deal about this whole love thing,” she said. “It sounds like a hassle and an unnecessary complication. But I know it’s important to you. And I’m sure someone will love you. Magic won’t have a hand in it either. It will be all you and your bumbling, adorable charm.”
Bryony bumped her fist playfully against Sky’s chin.
“Although,” she added. “A little sprinkle of pixie dust once in a while probably couldn’t hurt now and then. I hear it keeps the romance alive.”
“Bryony,” Sky said. “You’re terrible. One day, you’ll fall in love and you won’t know what to do with yourself.”
Bryony reared back with a look of pure horror on her face.
“Saint Circe above, I hope not,” she said.
“He’ll want to kiss you every minute of every day,” Sky said in a sing-song voice.
Bryony grimaced. “Yuck.”
“He won’t be able to keep his hands off of you.”
“Sounds like a pest to me.”
Bryony started walking at a brisk pace and Sky had to jog to keep up.
“Then you’ll imagine yourself old and grey together,” Sky said. “Holding hands over tea. Walking through the autumn leaves. Reading by the light of the fire before bed. And that’s when you’ll realize that there’s nothing else in the whole world you want more than a life with him.”
Bryony climbed the steps of her cottage home and placed the basket of apples on the porch, next to a stack of other baskets, brimming with crimson apples, blue-black currants, and sunset orange persimmons.
She turned to face Sky, one hand on her hip, her chin jutted out with a teasing look in her eye.
“And then,” she said “You’ll wake up and realize that you still have that love spell to crack. Get moving, Sangrey. You’ve got a lot of work to do before Mabon arrives.”
CHAPTER SIX
It was Thursday afternoon and there was always a lull at Boiled and Brewed during this time of day. Sky busied herself with making vats of harvest tea in the kitchen for the Mabon celebration until her whole house smelled of cinnamon, nutmeg, and orange peel.
Then movement at the front gate drew Sky’s attention out the kitchen window. She went still at the sight of Bianca Lovett pushing open the little white-washed wooden gate, gliding up the uneven cobblestone path to Sky’s front door.
Sky flew into action. She tugged off her apron and stuffed it under the sink. She rummaged through the rack of dishes drying beside the sink before she found a clean teacup that wasn’t chipped and set it on a tray along with a pot of boiling water.
A light knock echoed at the door.
Sky swallowed hard and forced herself to stop. She took a deep breath and carried the tray to the sitting room. Then she made her way down the hall to the front door and opened it.
“Good afternoon, Bianca,” she said.
Though Sky and Bianca were both witches, living in the tiny community of Wildemoor, their paths rarely crossed. Sky never took dance lessons and Bianca knew more spells that Sky ever did. They simply existed in entirely different circles of magical use.
And yet Bianca was standing on Sky’s steps now. Her fingers were twisted together, her peach-pink lips pressed into an unsmiling line.
She was worried about something.
Sky reached out and touched Bianca’s hand.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“I was hoping you could do a reading for me,” Bianca said. “Perhaps tea and…tarot? If you have the time, of course. My dreams have been so…cloudy and disturbing lately. It’s difficult to sleep and I would greatly appreciate a little clarity.”
Sky nodded and stepped aside. “I’ll do what I can,” she said. “Please come in. I have some tea ready and waiting for you.”
Bianca let out a sigh of relief and seemed to wilt like a flower. She had always carried a slim, athletic build, but as Sky looked at her now, she seemed frail. Too pale and the angles of her face too sharp.
The worry was eating away at her. She couldn’t banish it and she must be growing desperate if she was coming to Sky for help. Bianca had never crossed Sky’s threshold before but something was pushing her to do so now.
Sky led Bianca to the sitting room and Bianca sank into an armchair, her thin frame nearly swallowed by the cushions. She closed her eyes for a moment and tilted her head back. In a heartbeat, her breathing leveled out and her body went slack.
Sky watched her as she poured the tea, her hands going through the familiar motions even as her attention was directed elsewhere. Bianca was exhausted. When the reading was over, Sky would have to mix up some tea for her to take home that would help her sleep, to get rid of the dreams that were upsetting her.
Sky cleared her throat and set the tea and saucer on the table in front of Bianca.
Bianca startled awake and passed a hand over her face. Her blonde ha
ir, usually gleaming gold, was flat, a dull grey shade. When she accepted the tea, her hands shook until the cup and saucer rattled like chattering teeth.
“Just drink that down,” Sky said. “And then I can read the leaves. After that, we’ll move on to the tarot cards.”
Bianca nodded and sipped at the tea. Sky poured herself a cup of tea as well. It put her clients at ease and served as a warm welcome when she had tea with them.
But eventually, silence descended over the room. Bianca tugged at the hem of her satin black skirt, smoothed it over her knee. Despite how clearly the worried weighed on her, she was pristine as always. Her silver-blonde hair was pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck, not a single strand out of place. Her skirt flowed like ink around her knees and her blouse was made of silk so fine that it looked like a dark cobweb clinging to her pale skin.
Sky felt bedraggled and tattered next to Bianca, but that was nothing new. Sky chose comfort clothes over fashion every day of the week. Her jeans were worn out at the knees, rolled up at the fraying cuffs. Her battered brown boots had seen better days but they were worn in just the way she liked them. She hadn’t really bothered with her hair that morning. She’d simply swept it up in a red scarf sprinkled with glittery stars and crescent moons. Now, she wished she had at least brushed it out or something.
Bianca stroked the cup’s handle with her thumb, tracing along the cup’s lip with one fingertip. Her mouth was set in a firm, tight line of concern.
Sky sat forward, balancing her teacup on her lap.
“Bianca,” she said, as carefully as she could. “Sometimes, talking about whatever is on your mind can be helpful when I read the leaves.”
Bianca glanced up, her blue eyes searching Sky’s face.
“Oh,” she said.
“You don’t have to of course,” Sky rushed to add. “But if your mind is too clouded, I may not be able to see much of anything.”
Bianca nodded. “Well,” she said slowly. “It’s just that I’m…I’m having trouble. With a male friend of mine.”
Aiden’s image came unbidden to Sky’s mind and she shoved the thought away. This was about Bianca as her client. Not Sky. She had to remain focused.
“Has he…hurt you?” Sky ventured.
Bianca’s eyes widened. “Hell’s bells, no. I don’t think he even knows I exist.”
Sky choked on her tea. She coughed into her napkin, struggling to get her breathing under control again. Bianca bowed her head with a sigh.
“I never wanted anything more than dancing,” she said. “There have been men before, here and there, but nothing serious. And then I met…him.”
She reached across the table, curling her fingers over Sky’s hand.
“Sky,” she said, her voice soft with wonder and hope. “He’s such a gentleman and he’s so kind. For once, I catch myself imagining what it would be like if he and I…you know.” She shrugged with a small wave of her hand. “If he and I were serious.”
Hadn’t Sky said nearly something similar to Bryony just the other day?
Then you’ll imagine yourself old and grey together…
Bianca continued to stare at Sky, waiting for a reaction. Judging by the earnestness in her gaze, Bianca must not open up about her personal life very often to other people. To Sky, Bianca had always seemed unattainable and unaffected, a vision of poise and confidence.
But to look at her now, Bianca appeared as fragile as a bird, her trust placed in Sky’s cupped hands. Sky could crush Bianca and Bianca knew it.
Sky squeezed Bianca’s hand back.
“That sounds wonderful,” she said. “You deserve to be happy.”
As hard as it was to say those words aloud, Sky truly did mean them. Even though Bianca was worlds apart from Sky in every way—from appearance to the execution of their respective magical practices—Sky hated to see anyone suffering the way Bianca was clearly suffering.
Bianca’s mouth twisted slightly in a humorless smile. “That’s the problem though, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Sky said.
Bianca shook her head. Then, without warning, tipped her head back and drained the last of the tea. She set the cup on the saucer with a clank that seemed too loud and sharp in the stillness of the room. She slid the cup and saucer across the table to Sky.
“I want to know if he’s worth it,” Bianca said. Her tone was no longer wistful or soft. Now her voice had a harder edge to it, cold and detached, the Bianca that Sky was more familiar with. Shrewd. Intimidating. “If he’s toying with me, I’ll never give him another thought. I have a business to run, students to teach. I can’t have a romance gone wrong ruining what I’ve worked so hard for.”
“That’s perfectly understandable,” Sky said.
Sky and Bianca had nothing in common, apart from magic and even that was hardly similar. But a squirm of sympathy wormed its way through Sky’s chest at Bianca’s situation.
So, she plucked the cup from its saucer and she stared at the grit of plant matter that had gathered in a small puddle of tea at the bottom. She turned the cup this and that in the hopes of a better view.
Nothing.
Just murky shapes, too fuzzy and indistinct to make out what they were.
“What do you see?” Bianca said.
She had shifted forward on her chair until she was at the very edge, hands fisted in her lap, clutching her skirt until the smooth fabric was marred with wrinkles.
Sky didn’t respond at first as she examined the dregs more intently. She really wanted to help Bianca, to ease the strain in her rail thin shoulders. But Sky wasn’t entirely sure she had any desire to see the answer that lay at the bottom of that cup.
After a minute or two, Sky set the cup aside. Either her subconscious was avoiding the gritty truth contained in the scattered, damp dregs, or the truth didn’t wish to reveal itself, clouded over by the conflicting desires in the small tearoom.
“I see nothing,” Sky said.
Bianca frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Is that bad?” She perked up. “Is that good?”
“It’s…well, it’s nothing, Bianca,” Sky replied. “This sort of thing happens sometimes when the future is clouded with worries and fears. But we still have the cards.”
Bianca deflated, leaning back in her chair. Her arms slid around her middle and she drew one leg up, resting her chin on her knee.
“And what if the cards don’t work either?” she said.
“Then we’ll try again tomorrow. And we’ll keep trying until we see something.”
Bianca managed a small, wobbly smile of appreciation.
“Thank you, Sky,” she said.
Sky ducked her head to avoid Bianca’s gaze. She didn’t deserve that little smile. Part of her hoped that the tea and the cards would side with her instead of Bianca, no matter how hard she tried to feel otherwise.
Sky drew her tarot deck from a dark blue box in the middle of the table. She shuffled the cards, feeling them slip and slide together smoothly. No catches. No roughness. The cards would cooperate and be clearer than the tea had been. She took a deep breath at that realization and released it slowly.
Whatever the cards held, there would be heartbreak, for Sky or Bianca.
Sky laid out three cards onto the table, face down. She placed the deck aside and carefully did not look at Bianca as she flipped the first card over.
The Magician stared back at her with a knowing smile. Bianca made a small confused noise.
“What does that mean?” she whispered.
“Creation,” Sky said. “You are powerful in your desire to build something, to mold it and shape it and show it to the world. Your vision of beauty and strength runs deep in your veins and it will never leave you.”
Bianca placed a hand against her cheek, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her eyes bright.
But Sky couldn’t help noticing that from her perspective, the Magician was reversed. She didn’t say anything. She wasn
’t reading for her viewpoint, she was reading for Bianca.
And yet Sky’s gaze settled on that reversed meaning.
Master of illusion, of trickery. Obsession with power and abusing it for selfish gain.
Sky closed her eyes and touched her forehead as if she could physically stop that train of thought. Her other hand moved to the next card, fingertips settling against the glossy surface. Did she want to continue? Did she want to see what else the cards would say about the tangle of Bianca and Sky’s future?
She flipped the card over.
Queen of Wands.
This time, Bianca was silent. She clasped her hands, staring at the illustration of a woman in a gold dress, a halo of light around her head, a shining scepter clasped in one fist. She sat upon a throne made of sunflowers and her gown splayed out in yellow petals.
There was no doubt that the card held good tidings. It was glowing with the promise of fortune to come.
“The Queen always brings happiness with her,” Sky said. “She says that someone positive has entered your life, someone who will support you and stand by you, to rule with you over your kingdom.
Bianca released a breath of relief and a slow, genuine smile spread across her face as she sagged into the chair.
“Thank Saint Circe above,” she whispered.
Sky swallowed past her dry throat and forced herself to continue.
“The sunflowers,” she said. “Are a symbol.”
“Of what?” Bianca said.
Sky paused, staring at the card, a cold chill snaking down her spine.
“Fertility,” she said.
Bianca went still.
“It could be in the physical sense,” Sky added. She was running on auto-pilot now. Rattling off the meaning of the cards despite the way her brain screamed at her to stop. “Or it could be figurative. Your life is about to bloom with so much happiness that you will overflow and shine on others around you.”
For Sky, the card was scathing. It even felt hot to the touch, like fire, burning her for what she’d done.
The card in reverse spoke of jealousy and pettiness. Self-confidence was lost, rendering a person as nothing more than a shrinking violet, too frightened to pursue a goal or a dream, doomed to wither and die.
Jinxed (Coven Corner #1) Page 4