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The news unsettled Memphis. He didn’t like healing Owney’s men in the first place, and the idea that it might all be for naught made it worse. Still, he had to believe that Papa Charles knew what he was doing.
“I’ve told you what you wanted to know. Tell me about my mother like you promised.”
Seraphina leaned back against her chair again. “Your mother said she had taken bad medicine. She was afraid it had cursed you and your brother. Do you know this?”
Memphis nodded.
“She told me that because of the bad medicine, there were people who would come for you. She had wanted to protect you and your brother from those bad people. And that was when she made her mistake.”
“What mistake was that?”
“She called upon a bad spirit from the land of the dead. She made a bargain with the King of Crows.”
Memphis’s heartbeat quickened till he could hear the rhythm of his blood in his ears like drums. “What kind of bargain?”
“My turn,” said Seraphina. “Why do you do this healing?”
“Told you why. Papa said it would help us.”
“Papa said, Papa said. You do everything Papa tells you? You make any decisions for yourself?”
“I made the decision to come here,” Memphis sniped. “I want to hear about my mother.”
“Your mother knew she was dying,” Seraphina said after a pause. “And she feared she would not be here to watch over her boys. She was worried about threats here and from beyond—a coming storm. So she went to the graveyard barefoot, and that night, he appeared to her. He told her that he would make sure the bad men could not find you and your brother. He promised that she could watch over you from beyond. For a price.”
“What price?”
Seraphina sighed. “This, I don’t know. But I do know that crows are powerful. They are messengers of the dead. They can travel between worlds.”
“Between worlds…” he whispered. Something was fighting to take shape in Memphis’s mind. The room tilted sideways as it came to him. “Berenice?”
Seraphina made a face. “Who is Berenice?”
It was impossible. But the more Memphis thought about it, the more he realized that the bird that had been following him for months had been keeping watch like a guardian. Like a mother. Instinctively, he looked to the window. The crow was just outside, waiting. Memphis kept a grip on the chair; it felt as if he could float away so easily.
“Can the curse be undone?” Memphis asked.
“I only know so much. I don’t play with bad magic. And he is bad magic,” Seraphina said. “You want to know? Ask the ghosts.”
Memphis thought again of the thing in the graveyard. Of the spirits they’d annihilated over the past few nights. Guilt twinged in his chest.
“No,” Memphis said.
Seraphina pushed air through her teeth and pursed her lips in mild rebuke. “You afraid of spirits? They’re with us always.”
“I know that better than most,” Memphis snapped.
“You do, huh? It’s you who needs to find your way home, Memphis. Walk with your ancestors. See. Feel. Know. Let me give you some protection at least.”
“Your protection didn’t work very well for my mother,” Memphis said, angry.
“How do you know it didn’t? There’s all kinds of magic in the world.”
“Why do you want to help me?”
Seraphina shrugged. “I like your smile.”
She laughed then—a big, powerful guffaw that brought out Memphis’s smile against his will.
