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Nadine laughed and flexed her fingers to finish Willow off. But nothing happened. The power had drained from her. She tried again. Rowena tried to conjure something with her hands. Astrid flapped her arms about. But they had no magic.
And then, slowly and terribly, their beauty began to fade. Their skin became ashen with wrinkles growing deeper and deeper.
From their weakness, the spell holding Esme, Bliss, and Ivy dissolved, and the room snapped back into place. Clenching her fists, Willow crushed the crystal ball where it sat. With only a thought, burned the dark magic grimoire to a crisp, and waving her hand, sent them both into the hole in the floor. She then waved her arm, closing the Nexus, and advanced on her adversaries, continuing the chant.
Ego flexilis et lentum est.
Quodcumque dixeris, resilit mihi et tibi haeret.
Her sisters and mother came behind her, supporting her magic with their palms on her shoulders.
Ego flexilis et lentum est.
Quodcumque dixeris, resilit mihi et tibi haeret.
“What are we chanting?” Bliss whispered.
Esme replied quietly, “I think it means… I’m rubber and you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.”
Then, illuminating from under Willow’s skin, a glow both hot and cold at the same time, completely enveloped her until she was cloaked in light. And with fear and trembling, the Daughters of the Twilight Veil crumbled into dust.
Willow collapsed to the floor with exhaustion and her sisters flew to her side. They carried her away from the splintery wood floor to a spot where there was once a lush Persian carpet, but now was only a remnant. They laid her down with a few cushions that had been part of a comfortable chair. Now the chair was wedged in the wall along with a few side tables.
Esme brought Willow a glass of water, but changed her mind and turned it into a shot of espresso.
Willow couldn’t bring herself to get up—not because her body wouldn’t allow it—but because of the intense grief overwhelming her.
Montgomery was gone.
The first rays of sunlight filtered through the cracks in the iron clad windows. Bliss flicked a finger, changing the blinds back to a cream-colored canvas. She gave them a little more flair than before and added an off-white floral pattern you’d only be able to see if the light hit it just so.
Willow cast her eyes around her. The bookshop was a flipping mess. Books everywhere. Bar supplies in shambles. Somehow, that made her chuckle inside. It would drive Montgomery up the ever-loving wall.
The women remained silent for a long while, none of them wanting to voice what everyone was thinking. They didn’t have to. Willow knew her mother and sisters were mournful on her behalf.
“Do you think he’s still here?” Willow asked after thinking about it for close to an hour. “As a ghost?”
Esme unstuck a strand of hair from Willow’s cheek. The tears had long dried but left behind a few crusty tracks.
“You saw him move on,” she said. “He’s at peace now.”
Willow let out a hard breath. “I know. I just… was hoping.”
She was hoping, yes. But at the same time, she felt it was selfish of her, so she held the memories of him in her heart. Even the annoying ones.
“We need to get some food in you,” Esme said. “What do you want us to conjure up?”
“Bliss makes the best strawberry cream cheese pancakes,” Ivy said. “Unless you want pumpkin.”
Willow sat up, realizing her sisters were probably famished, and squeezed their hands.
“Actually,” she said. “I know a place.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, piles of pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, and cinnamon buns were spread out before them at the biggest table they could find at Bo’s Diner.
The Ravensong witches shoveled forkfuls of food into their mouths Henry the Eighth style. They were ravenous.
