Page 74 of Witchlore
“My aunt died in the Second World War, during a bombing,” she says quietly. “Her shapeshifter disappeared after that.”
I look down at the photo of my shifter and think,It’s really you.In their female form, they have brown curly hair, waved in that forties fashion. They have a long face, large eyes, and a pointed chin. Their eyebrows are bushy and strong, and give their face such an arresting look. I think I can see all the stories of their life in their eyes: the protests, the wars, the loss of their parents, and the miracle of Bisan’s love.
“Did they have a name?” I press, all attempts at casual speedily unraveling. “Or even a last name?”
“Why are you asking?” Kira takes the photo back protectively, and I’m deeply disappointed. I want to hear their name so much, it feels like something essential and hopeful has been snatched away again. “Why do they matter to you? Do you know them?”
I open my mouth.No,I think.But also, yes, better than anyone.I stare into Kira’s quizzical and slightly expectant face and realize, suddenly, I have no reason to keep this secret anymore. It’s not like she can stop me trying the spell if I want to, and if she wants to get me in trouble for stealing a book, so be it. What do I care? I’m already known as a murderer, why not add thief to the moniker? I reach under my bed and pull outThe Witchlore of Bodies.
“Because I read their diary,” I say, opening it to the first pageof the journal. Kira stares at it like it’s a live snake. She nervously glances at the closed door.
“This was part of the John Rylands exhibition, did you…?”
“Nick it? Yeah.”
“You did?” Kira’s dark eyes are boggling. “Youstoleit?”
“So? You stole a personal file,” I say quickly. “Besides, we’re going to give it back. They don’t know it’s even gone.”
“But there was nothing in the exhibition notes about it having a diary in the back!”
“Shifter blood lock.” I shrug. “Opened the diary and revealed a… spell.”
I’m hesitant to admit we were looking for the resurrection spell, mainly because I don’t want Kira to know all her suspicions about Bastian were correct.
“And your blood unlocked the spellandthe diary,” she murmurs, tentatively touching her finger to the page and then turning pages back until it’s open on the revealed portion of the resurrection spell. I’m surprised how sad it makes me to look at it now, and I glance down at my bedspread, eyes stinging. “So this is the resurrection spell he tried to use with his other shifter? He was going to use you like he used her?”
That’s an unnecessary kick in the face and I take in a sharp breath.
“Happy you’re right about him?” I sneer. “Do you want a gold medal?”
“No, I want to know why you were doing it,” she says. Her eyes are intensely focused on me. I wonder how much of my motivations she has already guessed. I’m too emotionally exhausted to lie.
“He told me we were going to do it for Elizabeth; we have all the ingredients.” I swallow hard, thinking about Bastian pushing me out of the way of the boggart and pulling me out of the water. Everything he did, every little kindness, was a lie. “But now we’re not doing anything together.”
Kira looks nervous. “Did you break up?”
“We weren’t together,” I say, even though I felt like we could have been.What would it have felt like to call Bastian my boyfriend?I shake my head bitterly. “No thanks to you.”
“I’m really sorry it hurt you.” Kira looks down at the book. “But he wasn’t being honest with you, and… you did need to know.”
I close my eyes to control my temper. She’s right, of course, but I wonder if there is anyone else in the world I would hate to hear these words from more. Maybe Carl Lord. Or my parents. But, oddly, Kira seems to care about me more than my parents ever did. That gives me a little bit of needed perspective and I take a slow breath.Why does it matter if she was the one to tell me?I snap at myself.It doesn’t stop the fact that he lied to me and used me.
“None of it matters now.” I sigh. “I don’t know if it will even work without him.”
Which means I’ll never get Elizabeth back.When she died, I thought there couldn’t possibly be a worse feeling than that, but now there is this. Knowing I’ve failed her twice, failed her horribly, not just by being unable to undo my catastrophic mistake and bring back the life she is owed, but by unthinkingly giving my heart to someone so undeserving. I couldn’t even be faithful to her memory and that thought makes me want to throw up. I blink heavily and turn away, staring at where Mr. Pebbles is squattingin one of my cacti, having a piss. I don’t even bother to shoo him off. When I look back at Kira she is running her fingers across the spellcraft notations on the page, her brows furrowed.
“I can… help you do it,” Kira says slowly. “If you want.”
“What?” I stare at her. It’s literally the last thing I ever expected to hear from her. “Why?”
“Because I think I can.” Kira presses her palm against the spell. It’s almost a protective gesture. “I know you don’t think much of me, but I’m in the year above you, and my family is powerful. I’ve probably got the knowledge and strength to do it.”
“I thought you said witchcraft like this was reckless. You called Bastian dangerous.”
“I still think he is dangerous, because he had the wrong priorities and he was lying to you.” Her eyes flash with conviction. “But I probably want the same things you want.”
“What do you want?” I ask. Kira looks down at her great-aunt’s ring, rubbing the stone reflectively before she speaks.
