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“You made a rhyme.”
“Wasn’t intentional. Or the point.”
“Theta. I don’t know much about witches. But I believe in you. And your gut.”
Theta was touched by this. She’d never really had a close girlfriend before—Roy had been too jealous. And she felt a little guilty that it took Mabel’s death for her to get closer to Evie. She knew how broken up Evie was about losing Mabel.
Theta held up her pinkie and reached across the narrow space between their beds. “Hey. Pals-ski?”
The last time Evie had done a pinkie swear was with Mabel. “Pals-ski,” Evie said quietly. She hooked her little finger through Theta’s and pulled. “I’ll leave you to it. But if you do happen to come across a spell for turning men into frogs”—Evie yawned—“do let me know. Never know when it might come in handy.”
“’Night, Evil,” Theta said, and she could swear Evie was already out.
Theta picked up Miss Addie’s diary again, flipping to a random page.
June 2, 1864
I ache for Elijah so much it is as if someone had taken an ax and cleaved me in two. Mother says if I do not eat, she’ll force the porridge into my mouth. She may try all she likes. I will not have it.
“Dear Sister,” Lillian said. “You must live on. What would Elijah say if he could see you thus? Let us work the spell of forgetting to ease your pain.”
But I do not want to forget. I do not want to lose what little I have left of him. My Elijah. My one true love.
Theta teared up. Miss Addie had put into words her own feelings exactly. Being away from Memphis was like losing half of herself. Missing Henry was an ache deep in the heart. Not knowing if they were alive or dead or in danger made it that much worse.
She decided to go back and start at the beginning. As she read, she found that the diary was a small window into history, both the country’s and Miss Addie’s. Theta learned that Miss Addie had been from a modestly well-to-do family. In addition to her sister, Lillian, she’d had two brothers, a mother, and a father. They lived in a fine redbrick house named Rose Manor for its prized roses. There were stables and tobacco fields, and there had been servants.
No.
There had been slaves.
Theta loved Miss Addie, but this new knowledge was deeply upsetting. The Miss Addie she knew was kind and concerned for the well-being of others. She was descended from ancestors who had, themselves, been persecuted and hung during the Salem Witch Trials. How could that be the same person speaking so casually of owning other human beings? Someone like Miss Addie might’ve owned Memphis’s grandparents. And Elijah, Addie’s great love, had been fighting for the Confederacy when he was killed. Theta had seen him herself. He’d come up out of the grave, out of the stinking past, rotting inside that uniform—dead, but still he kept coming. Theta closed the diary, feeling troubled and unsure. Beside her sat Miss Addie’s spell book, which was full of information that could help in the fight against the dead. But should she follow the advice of a person who had taken part in something she found so awful?
Adelaide Proctor had lived a long life after the war. She’d left her home and moved to New York City. She’d done missionary work for those in need. Maybe she had come to see how wrong she and her family had been. Or maybe, deep down, Miss Addie still held fast to those terrible beliefs. Theta didn’t know, because they’d never talked about it. And now she knew this. She wished she didn’t, but she did.
Theta was resolved to save Miss Addie from the King of Crows. Once she did, though, they would need to have a talk. She forced herself to keep reading:
June 28, 1864
The old cunning folk talk of the man in the tall hat. They say he can grant wishes if you are willing to seek him and offer a bargain.
July 1, 1864
I am resolved. I shall leave my wish for him in the hollow of the old elm and seal it with a thumbprint of my blood. I will make a pact.
Theta’s heart beat faster. For the next few pages, there was talk of the war raging on and the names of men killed, but nothing of Elijah or the man in the hat. And then, finally:
July 7, 1864
Tonight. So mote it be.
Theta’s hands trembled as she turned the page.
I have met the man in the hat. I fear to commit to words what transpired. In truth, I am uncertain, myself. It all seems as a dream. He has promised me the return of my love. And in return, I have pledged myself to him. I have forfeited my power and, I fear, my mortal soul. Yet, Elijah shall live again. We shall live out our lives together forever, nevermore to be divided. I shall be his wife and we will be happy.
Theta knew the end of the story, but a sense of dread filled her anyway as she turned the pages, reading quickly:
There were petals on the doorstep again. Lillian was cross with me. But I am beside myself. It is a sign, just as the man in the hat promised. Elijah is coming for me.…
