Page 49 of Love's a Witch
“When it’s to help you guys, I am. But this has all been a lot for me. At once. Particularly because, you know…” I waved my hand in the air, refusing to give in to the lump of sadness that I swallowed past every time I thought of our parents fighting here. “It’s the same. I’m the same. Just like mum.”
“I will stop you right there, young lady.” Broca snapped her fingers, bringing my attention to her. “You may be dealing with the same magickal difficulties your mother faced, but you are not the same. Not even close. She may be my daughter, but you three have more of me in you than she ever did. And thank the goddess for that. Let me be very clear, Sloane, that even if your mother had had perfectly working magick, she still would have been a dramatic, difficult, and unbalanced soul. It’s her own karma to sort out. She made, and continues to make, her own choices, despite the guidance I have attempted to offer her. Remember, magick is a tool. And tools can and will be used in hundreds of different ways by different people.”
“But what if I can’t make my tool work? Isn’t that what set her off?”
“Surely you must be kidding me?” Broca threw me an incredulous look. “She loved having different magick every day. Said itkept things interesting. It took all of my power to clean up her messes, day after day, and to try to shelter you three from harm. When she took you and ran, it was the hardest day of my life. I could only be grateful that you were strong enough at that point to care for yourself. Otherwise, I would have gone through hell and high water to get you back.”
She did do that. She taught me a lot about loyalty and fighting for family. For what’s right.
“I remember you trying.” Night after night, Broca would call and arguments would erupt over the phone until my mother hung up on her. I never fully understood what they were arguing about, but I’m glad I have a better picture of that time now.
“I had no legal recourse to take you away from her. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there for you.”
“But you were.” Nova leaned forward, looking past me to Broca. “You never let us lose contact. We always knew we had you.”
“It’s true, Broca.” Lyra rolled out dough on the counter. “You’ve been our one constant in a sea of changes.”
“Och, that does my heart good.” Broca patted her chest. Her eyes were shiny, and I realized that I might be close to weeping too. “The fact that you were instantly worried you’d turn out like your mother shows just how different you are, Sloane. I’m not worried about you, or this unruly magick. We’ll get it sorted, or we won’t, but you’re going to be just fine.”
“Unless you burn down the castle. Knox might be pissed about that.” Nova smirked at me when I smacked her arm.
“I’m not burning down the castle because I am not going back there.”
“Girl, if you don’t sample those goods, I might have to.” My mouth dropped open at Broca’s warning, and all of us laughed.
“Honestly, I would not want to compete against you, Broca.” Pushing Blue off my lap, I went to get my bag. “By the way. I forgot that Knox’s cat gave me a book.”
“His cat?” Nova raised an eyebrow at me.
“Oswald. And he has a miniature Highland coo in a wheelchair named Haggis.”
Nova’s mouth dropped open. “You have to go back there, Sloane. I need to meet these familiars.”
“We have to do this spell, Sloane. I want to hear what Blue has to say,” Lyra implored me.
“I suspect his thoughts will be highly focused on cheese,” I said, grinning down at Blue as I held the book out to Broca.
“Well, now, this is interesting.” Broca took the book from me and turned it over in her hands, admiring the cover. But when she went to open it, the cover refused to budge. “Ah, even more intriguing.”
“It won’t open?” I asked, surprised. Why would Oswald give me a book that wouldn’t open?
“Let me see.” Nova stood and took the book from Broca. No matter how much she tried to pry it open, the cover stayed shut. “Huh, that’s weird. I don’t see a lock. It’s not like one of those secret books that you need to slide the binding down and reveal a compartment, is it?”
“A what?” I asked as Blue clambered back into my lap.
“Like a puzzle book. Normally made of wood, but you have to, like, slide one part of the binding down, and then it unlocks a lever that opens a compartment.” Nova tugged at the binding, but nothing moved.
“I don’t think we’re the ones meant to open it,” Broca said.
At that, Nova paused and nudged the book toward me without another word and plopped back on the couch.
“Wait, let me just get this in the oven before you open it.” Lyra slid the pie in, set a timer, and took her apron off before bounding across the room. “Okay, open. I hope it is a love poem.”
“Oh, for fuc…” I trailed off at Broca’s warning look. “Seriously, I barely know Knox. He most certainly is not writing love poems for me.”
“The heart wants what the heart wants.” Lyra nodded sagely at me. This from a woman who had men declare their eternal love to her weekly.
“I can promise you it is not that. It’s more likely a list of all the reasons I need to leave Briarhaven and never come back. Certainly nothing to do with love.” I took the book and held it in front of me, over Blue. “Right, let’s see what the issue is.”
