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“Oh, yes, we’ll talk about it some other time.” She sighed. “Let’s schedule an appointment next week. It will be so much more convenient after I die.”
I groaned, pressing my fingers against my eyelids. She pulled my hands away from my eyes and gave me a stern look. As weak as she was, it was still enough to make me sit up and speak plainly. “I don’t know if I’m up for this, Nana. I don’t know if I can do what you’re asking of me.”
“Magic won’t tolerate a practitioner who dances around it. You use your talents as you see fit, but there’s a price for it, Nola. And the price has to be paid. If you continue to live as half a witch, you’ll lose your gifts. Promise me that you’ll find them.”
“Nana . . .”
“Promise. Me,” she ground out, as if the very effort exhausted her. “Unless you want my spirit stuck on this plane with unfinished business. It won’t be pleasant haunting. Lots of flies. Portents of doom. Midnight wailing.”
“Fine. I promise,” I said. “Just lie back and get some rest, all right? I love you.”
“I love you, too, darling.” Nana closed her eyes and leaned back. Her breathing evened out, and her pulse went steady. Just before she fell asleep, her eyes fluttered open. “Nola, your mother . . .”
“Shh.” I leaned against the bed and whispered against her temple. “Don’t worry. Get some rest.”
When her breath evened out and faded into light snores, I went into the parlor to assure my family that she was resting comfortably. In other words, they should get out and let both of us rest, for pity’s sake. The next morning, I woke propped against the bedside with my hand still twined in Nana’s. The fire was out, and the room was cold and dark. I’d fallen asleep against the mattress, my face cradled against her journal. At some point, she’d taken off her great-grandmother’s wedding ring and closed my fingers over it. It had no magical significance. It was just an old family ring, passed from mother to daughter. I was the only one in Fiona McGavock’s line left to pass it along to.
And she was gone.
3
If you happen across a supernatural creature you don’t understand, do not do anything to attract its attention until you’re sure it’s friendly. Unless you’re comfortable operating with fewer appendages; if that’s the case, carry on.
—When, What, Witch, Were, and Why?
The Five W’s of Safe Interactions with the Paranormal
With my internal clock still all wonky, I ended up sitting in bed reading over my notes on the artifacts. The problem was, I was looking for four everyday objects: a candle, a clay plaque, a knife, and a bell. Apart from being old, they probably wouldn’t catch much attention at your average yard sale. And all supernatural clues from my grandmother had stopped the moment I decided to go to the States. That was maddeningly unhelpful.
I pored over the sketches Nana had left me, trying to memorize the symbols that had been painstakingly etched into the candle to represent protection. My head drooped over the papers until the landline rang, a sharp, shrieking jangle next to my ear. I jerked awake, blinking blearily at my new alarm clock to see that the numbers on its face were indecently low. I may have muttered a few obscenities into the receiver when I pressed it to my ear.
“Well, that’s a fine greeting for your favorite aunt.”
I sat up in bed, wiping at my eyes. “Pen, what the hell are you doing calling me at three in the morning?”
“Ah!” Penny cried. “Sorry, love, forgot about the time difference.”
“I’m going to reach through the phone and strangle you, Penelope,” I growled.
Penny scoffed at the very idea, and rightly so. She had about thirty pounds and four inches on me.
“Any progress?” Penny asked.
“Well, I have food in the house but no angry marsupials. That’s progress.”
“I’m assuming that you’re just tired and not spouting gibberish to annoy me,” she retorted.
“No, no, it’s going well. I’ve found the shop. I’m going to visit tomorrow. And I’ve shopped for groceries and managed to evict a minor possum infestation from my rental house.”
“Have you called Stephen yet?” she asked.
“Oh, shit!” I gasped. “No. I sent him a text when I landed, but after that . . . everything’s a little hazy.”
“Well, you should call him. He’s been calling here, asking for your contact information at the hospital in Boston. You know I can’t lie for anything, Nola. Why didn’t you just tell him where you were going?”
“Because Stephen would think this is insane,” I grumbled, forcing myself out of bed and untangling myself from the seemingly endless amount of spiral phone cord keeping me tethered to the receiver. I hobbled across my darkened room toward the window, glancing out to the moonlit garden.
“Well, if he’s going to be a part of your life, he’s just going to have to accept that you’re—”
