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“Any stories that have to do with consorting,” Isaid.
I glanced over the first book’s table of contents, shoved it back into the row, and grabbed the next. “The Autumn Consort.” That could be it. I flipped to the right page and skimmed thestory.
Nope, this was a romantic tale about a young witch meeting her great love just before she reached the dreaded age of twenty-five. A little too close to home right now, and not at all useful. I put that one back and movedon.
I’d paged through at least ten books when I found it. “A Twisted Consorting,” the title said. My pulse hitched as I found its startingpoint.
The story was about an orphaned witch taken in as a girl by a sadistic low-family couple who wanted to use her for their own ends. The man dissolved his consorting with his wife and persuaded the orphan to partner with him. Fine, fine, none of that related to mysituation.
Then I reached the part where the woman of the couple conducted the consorting ceremony for her former partner and her adopted daughter.When the glyphs were drawn, she drew a dagger through the symbol of the spark. Then, as she drew the energies of the consorting between the two, she twisted the ties back on themselves, locking the girl’s spark to her husband’s will. Her magic kindled, but only with his blessing could she call on it. And if he demanded and she tried to refuse, the pain of a dagger’s cut would slice through herchest.
I lowered the book, my stomach churning. It was too easy to imagine being trapped like that, forced to bend my magic to someone else’swill…
But it was just a folk tale. Meredith had said they weren’ttrue.
Of course, Celestine hadn’t been sure what she wanted to do was possible either. That was why she’d gone to Master Cortland in the firstplace.
An icy prickle ran down the center of me as my gaze lingered on the story’s title. “A Twisted Consorting.” On an impulse, I flipped back to the front of the book. This one’s title wasWitching Tales of theYesteryear.
Something about those words felt far toofamiliar.
My fingers tightened around the book. I nudged the other volumes on that shelf so the gap wasn’t obvious. Then, tucking that one under my arm, I hurried to mybedroom.
“Did you find it?” Phil said. “Do you know what that witch has up hersleeve?”
“Maybe,” I said. I’d wanted answers, but now I almost hoped I hadn’t found one. I shut my bedroom door, locked it, and retrieved my prepaid phone from beneath the bookshelves. My nerves jittered as I brought up the notes I’d saved from Seth’s now-deleted texts. The second I laid eyes on them, my heartsank.
There it was. The reference right next to Master Cortland’s note about the dagger.Via WTOTY/ATC. The letters couldn’t be clearer.Witching Tales of the Yesteryear/A TwistedConsorting.
I didn’t know where he’d gotten the other ideas for Celestine’s “binding,” but that one had come from a copy of the same book I held in my hands rightnow.
“She wants to bind my magic to Derek’s will,” I said. My voice shook as the words spilled out. “So I can’t use it without his permission, and if he wants me to use it, I haveto.”
Philomena’s eyes widened. “And shecanaccomplishthat?”
“Master Cortland told her he thought it would bepossible.”
My imaginary best friend made a disgruntled sound. She stalked from the bookcase to the end of the bed and back, her skirts rustling against the floor. “And what do you think your fiancé knows about all of this? A spell like that wouldn’t do her much good if he didn’t agree to useit.”
That question jabbed even deeper than my initial revelation had. I dragged in a breath, a burn forming behind myeyes.
“You’re right. He has toknow.”
I pressed my hand to my temple. My consort-to-be was conspiring with my stepmother to take control over my magic. Just because he wanted to? That was so much worse than simply not liking me all that much. You’d have tohatea person to do that to them, wouldn’tyou?
Was there any possible explanation? Celestine had sent that money to his family—she could have told him anything—maybe he thought the binding would help themsomehow?
It didn’t really matter what the explanation was, though. One thing was perfectlyclear.
The words popped out. “I can’t marry him. I can’t take him as consort. Not if he was willing to be a part of this, for anyreason.”
“I can’t marry him.” The words popped out before the thought had even solidified in my head, but I knew they were true. “I can’t take him as consort. Not if he was willing to be a part of this, for any reason.” Even if I could expose Celestine’s scheming and put a stop to it, how could I ever trust Derekagain?
“Well, fine. I didn’t think you should marry him anyway. Call off the engagement!” Phil let out a littlecheer.
“And then what? I don’t have anyone else. I only have two months left before I turn twenty-five.” Could Dad arrange a new consort for me that quickly—one I’d be able to tolerate spending my life with—when it had taken so long just to find Derek? A few of the tears that had been threatening spilled out. “Phil, I think I’m going to lose mymagic.”
The power I’d been training my whole life to take. The spark I’d been longing to feel light inside me since I was a little girl. I’d losethat.
