Page 39 of Magic and Matrimony

“You’re the most likely to fall into a ravine and sprain your ankle,” Odie signs, holding her phone under her chin.

Ambrose shrugs. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to need rescuing. Just that I wanted you to make sure you had your phones on in case I need someone to come and save me.”

“Let’s get this done,” Roman says with a nod, and then takes off toward the north. Odie signs good luck and disappears to the west.

Ambrose steps closer, hooking his pinky with mine. “Be careful, okay? I doubt I’ll be very far, but…” He looks around the woods. He’s as wary of Tucker being in the Grimwoods as I am. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will. You call me if you need me too.”

Ambrose grins and leans down. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me. But his head tilts to the left and he brushes his lips across my cheek. I know his kiss isn’t cursed like that, but I swear I still feel a zip of magic where his mouth meets my skin.

Ambrose takes a few steps backward, his eyes staying on me until he finally turns and sprints off toward the south.

“I guess that leaves east for me,” I mutter under my breath as I start walking. The chatter of the crowd in the ceremonial clearing almost immediately fades away. The hoot of an owl and dead leaves rustling in the breeze become my soundtrack, along with the crunch of my boots on the frosty ground. A gust of wind has me flipping up my hood, but I immediately throw it off. I don’t want my hearing muffled in any way.

I spin in a slow circle, my flashlight highlighting swaying branches and throwing shadows that look like sinister beings. How am I supposed to find one of these objects? My magic specialty has to do with potions. I’m great at researching and coming up with mixtures and creating poultices for things, but I can’t just dig my fingers into the Earth and have it tell me where one of these objects is. I walk a few more feet before I realize it’s pointless to keep wandering around without a plan.

Closing my eyes, I inhale, getting hits of the soft scent of damp earth in the beginning stages of spring. Rain is coming, but not till later. I search deep into my center and feel for my magic. It burns like a bright golden ball in my chest, humming and waiting for me to call on it. I just don’t know how to use it in this situation. I don’t have a magical sixth sense where I can sniffout curses like Fitz seems to be able to do. So how am I supposed to complete this challenge?

Strands of my hair blow across my face, and I tuck them behind my ear. In front of me is a tree with green moss growing up one side. There are several leaves hanging on the branches that never fell during the fall. They’ll be pushed out by new growth in a few weeks. Already buds have appeared on the branches.

An idea starts to take shape.

Squatting down, I grab a handful of dirt. I pull at some of the moss on the tree and stand to grab one of the leaves dangling over my head. Crunching up the leaf, I let it fall onto the dirt and moss and mix the three elements in the palm of my hand.

I close my fingers around the mixture and huff my breath over the mess. I hold a thought in my mind, stirring up my magic as I exhale my intention over my hand. It takes a few deep breaths until I’m satisfied with the little spell I’ve created. I open my fingers and lift my hand, letting the wind carry the dirt away. It skitters and floats on a breeze, sparkling like glitter as it drifts away from me. I follow the trail it’s creating, stepping over fallen logs and moving around ancient oak trees. The birds are still twittering happily in the trees, and my magic is tugging me along the path, pointing me in the direction of one of the enchanted objects.

I almost step right over it. That’s how forgettable the object is. But the magic stream of dust settles, falling onto a pinecone buried under a layer of needles. When I pick up the cone, a spark of magic sings across my fingers and I know this is one of the objects. It’s so common. One pinecone among many. And yet, this one is magical. I put it in my pocket and start back toward the clearing.

Should I go find Ambrose, or the others?

A woman screams, not far away. It sends a shiver down my spine. I freeze, and for a second, the only sound I hear is my ragged breathing. My heart is beating so hard I feel it hammering against my ribs. The Grimwoods are not known for animals or any danger. Locals who aren’t witches say that it’s haunted, but honestly, that’s just because the covens have been using it for ceremonies for centuries. That’s enough to drum up lore around a location.

My heart calms enough that I can hear again. The rustling and shuffling of bodies moving off to my right leaves me with a decision to make. Do I run back to the clearing? Find my way to safety from whatever caused that woman to scream? Or do I help her? What if she was the one doing something wrong, and the scream was in aggression?

It doesn’t matter. I can’t turn my back on someone who’s potentially hurt or in trouble just because I’m scared. I’ve been that person before. The one cowering in fear. The one forced to obey, and in those times, I prayed to the Maiden for anyone to help me. I can’t turn my back now and leave someone else to face that alone.

I sprint in the direction of the scream, my flashlight bobbing across the ground. I nearly trip on a downed branch and brambles catch on my pants. I’m breathing hard, but it’s more from fear than exertion.

My light catches on a man crouched over a body on the ground.

“Where is it? You stupid bitch.” Tucker’s head snaps up when my light hits him.

He’s hunched over Danielle Dyer searching her pockets. Her body is limp on the ground, her eyes closed.

“What did you do?” I hiss.

Tucker has already turned his attention back to Danielle. He whistles as he pulls a rock out of her pants pocket.

He slowly stands up, groaning as he pushes up with his hands on his knees. Tucker is only in his forties and he’s strong. But he’s relied on genetics rather than taking care of his body for many years. He has a barrel belly that hides muscles under the fat.

Tucker has an actual flashlight and not one from his phone. He shines it in my face, and I hold my hand up to block the light.

“Little pathetic Piper. Were you giving up already? You should, you know. You aren’t smart or talented enough to win these trials. You’re just going to embarrass yourself and the Beaumont name in front of the whole coven.”

I take a step back, squinting against the assault of the light.

“What did you do to Danielle?” My voice waivers, but I’m not going to back down this time. I’ve survived my uncle’s wrath before. I move in a circle trying to get to Danielle. Tucker circles with me.