Page 47 of A Spell for Midwinter's Heart
That gave Rowan pause. Birdie had the most experience of them all, and she also had a laxer attitude about what violated the Rede. But could she be trusted not to gossip? The more people they let in on what happened, the more likely it was to spread.
After a moment’s consideration, she nodded.
It was a risk she’d have to take.
19
Birdie’s combined sewing and psychic services shop, Piercing the Veil, was nestled two doors down from the Magick Cabinet. You could walk in to learn about your future and leave with a needlepoint kit to stab your way through processing what you hadn’t wanted to hear. Bolts of fabric lined the wall in thin panes of ever-shifting texture and color, and a seamstress mannequin was draped in a half-finished chiffon coat—a new Birdie original in the making.
“Babe!” said Naomie, looking up from her position behind the counter when they walked in. “You know, when I started expecting a visit at work, I thought it was just what I wanted to happen, but here you are!” She flew over to wrap her arms around Zaide and kiss her on the nose. Naomie’s eyes settled on Rowan then, and she smiled in a kind, knowing way. “Grandma will be done with her current client in a minute.”
“Thanks,” said Rowan, a little disarmed. Once again, she thought about how Naomie had spent so much energy pretendingnot to see the things she did. It must have been so liberating to get all that energy back—to be able to be herself and embrace her gifts.
Not that Rowan would know anything about that.
“You will never guess,” said Naomie, pulling back with a happy hip sway, “who promoted my post!” She waved her phone their way. “Gwyneth. Paltrow. She reposted today’s Libra horoscope. Oh my God, she is the Libra poster child, don’t you think?”
“Um, sure,” said Rowan.
“I can’t believe I’m giving life advice to the stars,” said Naomie with a dreamy sigh.
Zaide frowned at that. “Well, I can. Your advice is good foranyone.”
“Well, sure, but…” Naomie paused and shook her head. “You know what? You’re right, babe. I’m worthy of all that comes my way.”
“Hell yes, you are,” said Zaide, planting a kiss on her cheek.
Birdie emerged from the back, leading a shell-shocked-looking client by the arm. “Don’t forget the cards havemanyinterpretations, and Death is actually a fortuitous indicator of change.”
Her client did not look mollified.
Once he was out the door, Birdie turned to greet them, her colorful flowing robe spread like a peacock’s tail when she opened her arms wide in greeting.
“Well, hello, girls,” said Birdie.
“Rowan’s here for a backroom conversation,” said Naomie.
Birdie nodded, as if it made every sense. “Can you stall my eleven thirty?”
“Absolutely,” said Naomie. She settled back onto her elbows, scanning her social feeds again.
They followed Birdie through a billowy curtain that tickled the nose into a room overflowing with occult paraphernalia and fabric overstock. A small table sat at the center and Birdie gestured for them to take a seat, while she assumed her position opposite and began idly shuffling a tarot deck.
Displayed overhead were the old woman’s many divination tools. There were more tarot decks, a faerie oracle, small velvet bags holding wooden and stone Norse runes, and at the end, a pile of ogham staves—knobby sticks burned with Celtic symbols.
“I’m not looking for a reading,” said Rowan, holding up a hand.
Birdie studied her. “But you came here for help, didn’t you?” Rowan nodded. “Well, then you might get one anyway.”
She hadn’t been sure what all she would confess to Birdie, but when she opened her mouth, the day’s entire story came out, with a few sidetracks into past events to explain the full context. Though she maneuvered around any details that would suggest how she had felt about Gavin and Hayleigh dating, it was clear from the look of sympathy Zaide and Birdie exchanged that she had no one fooled.
“So, you two are plotting against the industrialists, are you?” asked Birdie, leaning back in her chair and tapping her fingers together.
“I don’t think that’s what you call them anymore,” said Zaide. “But yes?”
“Well, you have my full support. I won’t let that Dennis McCreery destroy everything Lili’s built, nor suffer my place becoming a Panera.” The old woman fixed her gaze on Rowan. “So,A Spell to Forget,hmm? That was one of your grandmother’s. Have you ever cast it before?”
Despite the question being inevitable, Rowan had hoped it would somehow not come up. She took a long breath before exhaling. “Yes.” When Zaide’s eyes went wide, Rowan rushed to continue, “Not on you. Not on any of you. I’ve only ever cast it on…” She closed her eyes. “Myself.”
