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Twenty-Five
Four hours later, I was parked outside Isabelle’s shop. I didn’t think she would answer any more of my direct questions, which left me with just one alternative—magic.
I’d need to cast a spell that would allow me to see the truth behind her words, and I only hoped she couldn’t counteract me. If she was using her mother’s book as a guide to connect to the Weaver’s magic, that meant she must be a practicing witch as well.
I pulled out a sachet containing the herbs I’d used in my original truth spell against Roarke and poured them into the steaming cup of green tea I stopped for along the way.
Reveal the truth. Allow me to see. Magic being hidden from me. Open my heart and my mind’s eye. Show me the truth of Pike’s fine lie.
The goddess’s energy filled the car, setting my blood alight. Hopefully, with a few well-placed questions, my suspicions would be put to rest. Clutching my bag to my side, I entered the shop, more nervous than I’d ever been.
“Milly! You’re back. It’s nice to see you again so soon.” Isabelle emerged from the back room with a large stack of books about to topple from her arms.
I rushed forward. “Here, let me help you.” Taking the top few, I placed them on the nearby table and stood back.
“Thank you so much. I thought I had them right up until the end.” Isabelle laughed, gesturing for me to take a seat on the couch. “What brings you back to my neck of the woods?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I had no idea how to ask these questions without offending her or showing my hand. “Uh… I just wondered… umm…” I stammered.
“What is it, Milly? You can ask me anything.”
Wringing my hands in my lap, I finally blurted out, “I was just wondering if you were a witch.”
Isabelle’s eyes narrowed. Then the store filled with her boisterous laugh. “That’s why you were nervous? To ask me if I was a witch?” She flung her arms out wide. “You’ve read my mother’s books, and just look around… Of course I am.”
It was so strange to hear such an open confession, seeing as Mama had always taught me to keep my gifts a secret.
“Bide the Wiccan Laws we must. In perfect love and perfect trust. Soft of eye and light of touch. Speak little and listen much.”
Mama often repeated those lines of the Wiccan Rede to me as a child. Along with the ideals of the witch’s pyramid: To know. To dare. To will. And to keep silent.
“These are the traits witches have lived by for centuries, and we will not dishonor them in this home. Our magic is a gift from the goddess, Milly. And for that blessing, we keep it ours alone.”
“I’ve just never met a witch who was so open about her gifts,” I admitted.
“Yes, well, when your craft is part of your livelihood, it’s hard to keep it a secret.”
“I suppose you’re right.” I smiled, my spell not picking up any twists to her words.
“Do you practice?” she asked in return.
“Um… I only tend my gardens,” I replied, practically freezing up again.
“Herbal magic is nothing to shake your head at. Again, I’m glad you found me and are a fan of my mother’s work. I know she would have appreciated meeting you.”
“Were you involved with any of your mother’s research?” I pressed on, hoping the flow of our conversation seemed natural to her.
Isabelle paused, then answered, “No. Like I said before, she chose to keep her work separate from us kids.” Her lips closed into a hard line, and my spell formed a tight knot within my chest.
She was lying, and I knew it had to do with my little black book.
“I can understand that. I did have another question about the book I showed you before. You said it was the only copy, but I couldn’t find the publisher or printer’s information inside and wondered if you might be able to share that with me.”
It was a risk to discuss the book directly, but I saw no other way to veer my questions toward the Weaver or her knowledge of him.
Isabelle’s back straightened, and my insides turned to mush. I’d never been in a confrontation with another witch before, and I had no idea who would come out on top. I hoped my own magic would be strong enough, but if I had to, I knew I could pull on the Weaver’s magic as well.
“I’m sorry. I don’t actually know. I was so little back then, being the youngest of all my siblings.”
