Page 56 of Love's a Witch
We were a discombobulated group, to say the least. If anyone were to walk back here, they’d get whiplash trying to figure out how one of us fit with the others.
And somehow, we were meant to solve a centuries-old curse.
Either way, this was our coven, and it appeared we were stuck with them. Broca was trying to get me to warm up to the idea of having the coven help me, but it just didn’t sit right with me. I simply wasn’t used to asking for assistance. With anything, really.
I wanted to refuse help.
Except I couldn’t. Not this time. I really did need the Charms. And it had been pointed out to me by Broca, not too kindly, either, that I was being a touch bitchy about accepting said help from this group, who had gathered at what felt like the butt crack of dawn to help me. Pasting a polite smile on my face, I took a seat at the table and looked around the room. It was more of a shed, really, an addition to the house that carried some of the white color scheme over, but here the shelves that lined the walls were piled high with what I was assuming was everything a modern-day witch needed.
Of course, it was all neatly labeled and stacked in glass containers and mason jars. Even in her magick, Mandy Meadows tolerated no messiness.
“All right, Charms, let’s crack on with business, shall we? Since this is another meeting out of our regular schedule.” Mandy Meadows slanted me a look, and I glowered at her. Like any of this was my fault? I’d happily be ignoring my magick and galivanting across Europe if Broca hadn’t called us to come home. Did she think this was fun for me?
“Simmer.” Nova poked a finger in my side, and I dropped my eyes to the table.
“First order of business will be the Pinecones & Peppermint Fest. Knox has requested we work up a spell to help shroud some of what is really going on from the tourists.”
“But what about the book?” I gaped at Mandy Meadows. The only reason I’d gotten out of bed this early was because I’d beentold I would get help deciphering the language in the book. And it had literally been Samhain the night before. Were we really going to jump into a Christmas festival this fast?
“Not everything’s about you, Sloane.”
“Meow,” Lyra said, raising an eyebrow, but Mandy Meadows just rolled her eyes.
“Or in this case, it is. Because we have to fix this snow mess, which you’ve brought to the town.”
“You’re being a little harsh, Mandy. It’s not her fault some witch cursed them centuries ago,” Tam said, taking a swig from her water bottle.
“I’m simply stating the facts.” Mandy Meadows shrugged one pink tweed–covered shoulder. “I don’t have time to coddle her feelings as well.”
“I don’t need to be wrapped in cotton wool,” I said, annoyed that this witch was getting under my skin. “If you need to do the festival spell first, by all means, go ahead.”
“I wasn’t asking your permission.” Mandy sniffed and patted her perfectly coiffed hair, as though a strand would dare to step out of line. “Now, my thought was we needed to do a concealment spell of sorts. Knox will be bringing in snowmakers to give the illusion that we are producing all of this snow, but it won’t necessarily explain away the snow falling from the actual sky. Our job is to make it so the tourists just can’t see it. Or, basically, that they only see what we want them to see.”
“A glamour spell.” Deidre nodded. “I’d go with the fae for that one.”
“I was just thinking the same.” Raven leaned forward and gave Deidre a nod of approval. “They’re the best at trickery.”
Nova turned to me, both eyebrows raised.
“We’ll need fairy moss, quartz, and bronze rings.” Mandy Meadows clapped her hands together and strode to the shelves, pulling out containers of what she was looking for.
“Can you explain the ingredients to me, please, and the purpose for each?” Lyra asked politely. There was never a recipe she met that she didn’t like, so this was likely just an extension of her baking. Mandy Meadows glanced over her shoulder, a smile of approval on her face, and Lyra straightened a bit in her seat. A star pupil.
I wanted to be annoyed with her, but Lyra had always been that way. She wanted to please others, and it didn’t take a psychologist to figure out it came from having disinterested parents.
All three of us had reacted differently to our chaotic upbringing.
“The moss was gathered under a full moon from various fairy mounds around the outskirts of Briarhaven. With fae permission, of course.” Mandy Meadows returned to the table, containers in hand. “Quartz to help charge and channel the spell, as well as direct the magick accurately. And bronze rings as an offering to the fae, as they’ll use any bronze for their tools or weapons as they see fit.”
“Ah, and why does quartz channel the spell?”
“It’s an excellent conduit. Quartz, in itself, is your multipurpose stone. It can be used for many different spells and can help center intention. It’s a workhorse of a crystal, really.”
Mandy Meadows flicked her hand at the table, and a pentagram appeared. In the middle, she placed a bundle of moss, the bronze rings, and several quartz stones. She then lit a candle at the head of table, mumbled some words under her breath, and a ripple of energy moved through the air. It called to my magick, and I felt that power rise inside of me, and my palms began to sweat. I hoped whatever we were about to do didn’t make my magick misfire. Broca had assured me that with the coven acting as a whole, I should, in theory, be fine to work spells. It was when I was using my magick on my own that everything seemed to go haywire.
“By faerie sight an’ faerie grace,
Hide this snow in secret place.
