Page 72
“Did I curse you?” The woman’s expression went from puzzled to blank. “Did I curse…you?” She gradually raised a hand to cover her gaping mouth. “My goddess, are you telling me you were responsible for my poor little Rover’s untimely demise?”
“I mean, yeah, I guess. But I was just a kid! Who happened to lay a trap for a mouse who had infiltrated her home.”
“Oh my.” Gladys looked distraught. “I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” Bradley asked.
“The night Rover disappeared and never came home—I still hate myself for not checking his cage a second time that night—I was plunged into sorrow. The only way I could dig myself out of my grief was to seek revenge on the creature who had taken away my favourite little cheese lover. So smart he was, could find a piece of cheddar hidden anywhere in the house. I knew he was dead, you see. There’s a bond between a Wiccan and her mouse that no mortal man could ever understand. So I took to the spell books, searching, until I found just the right one. A hex to last a lifetime, that would always strike around the time of a beloved pet’s murder. But you have to understand, I assumed the culprit was the neighbour’s cat! The little terror was always sniffing around my poor little Rover. I never imagined in a million years—”
“You cursed me.” The statement was studded with a certainty even she herself—a true believer—had never felt to this extent. It was vindication. It was awe. It was fury. “You cursed me.”
Gladys shook her head in disbelief. “It was a way to deal with my anger. I never thought—”
“You cursed me. And now every year at Christmastime something horrible happens to me!”
Gladys’s eyes flared wider than would seem possible. “Something horrible?”
“Something terrible!”
“Every year?”
“Every year.”
“You’re telling me the spell is still at work?”
“Oh, it’s very much still at work.”
Devra felt another rant at the injustice of what had been done to her ready to leap free, when Gladys’s disbelief morphed into an emotion Devra was not prepared for.
Pure joy.
“It’s still working!” Gladys laughed, clutched her crystals, pinched her pentagram earring. “A spell to last a lifetime. You have no idea what this means for my standing within the coven! Thank you, thank you for coming here and telling me this, Devra. When that dratted cat experienced nothing more than a brush with a swerving car, trotting away unscathed and living a good life into old age, I thought my powers had been too weak, the magic fading quickly. But to have succeeded in enacting such a long-lasting spell…It is truly the work of a high priestess!” She leaped forward and embraced Devra in a deathly tight hug. “Thank you. You have made an old witch very happy today. Very, very happy.”
“Um.” Devra patted the woman on the back, her emotions temporarily trapped in the firm grip of the woman’s hug. “You’re welcome, I guess?”
“Way to go, Gladys!” Bradley joined in.
Devra craned her neck to side-eye him, and he dropped his gaze sheepishly.
“Sorry, just got caught up in the moment. This must be so exciting for her.”
“Yes,” Devra said into the woman’s shoulder. “How great. For her.”
Gladys released her grip. “Oh, but I am sorry. Truly. That this curse fell upon your head. And only a little girl when it happened. If I had known, I never would have performed the spell.”
“Well, since you know now, maybe you could”—Devra twirled her finger in a motion distinctly lacking Gladys’s flourish—“undo your curse?”
Bradley coughed a word into his fist that sounded like “Apopogy.”
Devra had completely forgotten she’d come here to apologize to this woman. That Adele Ariadne’s premonition meant she needed to be seeking absolution. She said quickly, “Because I really am sorry about killing your mouse. Like, really, really sorry.”
Bradley nudged her not so gently, and Devra dug deeper.
“I’m sorry,” she said more honestly. “It’s clear you really loved Rover. I know how difficult it can be to move on from heartache. How the pain lingers, even if you pretend it doesn’t.”
“Thank you, my dear. Thank you for saying that. And of course I will do what I can now that I know. We Wiccans believe in taking responsibility for our actions. A lost art these days, it seems. But unfortunately I don’t think it’s me you need to be apologizing to.”
“It isn’t?” Devra asked.
