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“I remember stuff when it is connected to art,” I said back in the same tone she had. “And I am not pretending. I truly know almost nothing about magic or witches.”
“But you are doing high-level magic?” she scoffed as she shook her head. “I don’t believe you. It’s impossible. Why did you open the door of the dead then? Did you call for someone?”
“No, it was a cursed ghost in a painting—”
“To put a cursed ghost to rest requires knowledge of the higher magics. Cursed ghosts are temperamental and often confused as well as enraged. They will fight you with dark magic, so you must counter it with dark magic, then use white magic to calm their spirit, balancing both the dark and light to open the door. All of that is higher magic. Something a coven or strong circle must do together with a series of spells.”
“Dark magic, white magic, higher magic. Purple magic. I don’t know what that means! It’s gibberish to me. All I did was scream and fight with her until she listened to me. After that, I said whatever came to mind, and she was gone.” I shrugged, remembering the wounded spirit that was Elisa-Maria Götze’s ghost.
“You’re not making any sense!” Adelaide huffed, dropping her cat, which disappeared, and crossing her arms angrily. “That is not possible. You can’t just make up spells like that.”
“I don’t care if you think it’s not possible. That’s how it happened,” I snapped back angrily. “And sorry to break it to you, but that’s all I’ve been doing, making shit up as I go.”
“Where is your grimoire? You didn’t use it?”
“I didn’t know I had a grimoire at that time. But I doubt it would have been useful. It would rather play hide-and-seek somewhere in the library.”
“Hide-and-seek? Why would your grimoire hide from you?”
“You seem not to be understanding me when I say…I. Do. Not. Know. Anything.” I broke up each work carefully so that she would get it through her thick mortal head.
“So, how are you doing magic?”
“I just do it!”
“This isn’t a Nike commercial, Druella. Magic isn’t something you just do!”
“Fire.” I lifted my finger to show her the flame that came up over my index finger like it was a candle.
“That is basic magic. Children can do that,” she said, lifting her finger for me to see as she did the same thing. “The spell for that is the word fire. It is a command spell you are casting even if it is one word.”
I exhaled through my nose, now annoyed she didn’t believe me. “What will it take then so we can move on? Tell me something that I need to do…other than freeing your magic. I tried that on you already and myself—it doesn’t work.”
She looked me over, unsure.
“Go on,” I pushed.
“Shadow,” she said. “A familiar is a loyal spirit, but she keeps disappearing because I don’t have enough magic to bring her forward and keep her here. Call her.”
“Fine. Shadow, come here,” I said instantly, and the cat reappeared in my lap. Adelaide’s eyes widened, but that wasn’t the only reason.
“I can see it now.” Atarah gasped as she looked at the cat licking its paws.
I lifted the cat and showed her back to Adelaide. “Why was this supposed to be harder than the fire?”
“I believe familiars only answer to the call of their witch,” Arsiein answered instead of Adelaide.
Carefully, Adelaide took Shadow from my hands, touching its head.
“Familiars only answer to the call of their witch unless another witch casts a spell, which disguises themselves as their master and calls them,” Adelaide whispered and looked back down at her cat. “Shadow, who am I?”
“Adelaide Proctor,” Shadow answered.
“Who called you here just now?” Adelaide asked.
“You, Adelaide.” Shadow purred and rubbed her head into Adelaide.
Adelaide lifted the cat and flipped it to look at me. “Who is sitting across from me?”
