Page 16 of Cursed Encounter
“You too, dear,” Sandra responds back. “I was wondering if we might use your back room.”
The woman hesitates, her eyes sliding back to me. I have no idea what’s happening.
“Sure, yes. Go right ahead.”
The woman steps aside. Sandra motions for me to follow her.
The back room is dimly lit, and there’s a strange coolness about it, almost like I’ve stepped into a cooler. It’s magic. I can sense it, but I can’t tell the reason for it. There’s a table on one side, covered with a silky, dark purple cloth. The back wall holds a long counter. Dried herbs and flowers hang above thespace. Jars of various things line a shelf on the wall. It’s all very organized.
“Astra,” Sandra says before I have a chance to take in any more of the space. Her tone is urgent, and it pulls at something deep inside me. The world spins, and I blink to fight off the urge to tilt against it. “You must listen to me.”
Suddenly, I feel like I’m in some kind of crazy spy movie. Like one of those ones where they don’t know they’re a spy or whatever. Is she about to say the magic word to wake up my super-soldier powers or something? My heart is racing wildly, and I’m stuck between running and wanting to hear what she’s about to say.
“I knew your mother.”
Tears spring to my eyes. My lungs freeze and I can’t breathe. Did she just say she knew my mother?
“We were close friends,” she says. “Of the same coven.”
I know my mother was a witch. I know she belonged to one of the faction covens in the city. However, that is all I know. The aunts never did talk much about her, and my memories are no help.
She could be lying to me, but I can’t think of a reason why she would. Something tells me to trust her, so I do. Perhaps the mention of my mother is what breaks me down. I’m desperate to be close to her again, even if I know she’s gone.
I have so few memories of her, and it’s been so long, I think some of them have dulled over time. I can’t see her face. I can’t remember her smell. The only thing I’m left with is these fleeting feelings.
Emotions swirl all around and wash through me.
I can’t fight them off. I can’t remember a time when Ifeltlike this. Where emotions were so real and raw, they took over everything within me.
“We can talk here,” she says as she reaches for my hands. I let her take them. It feels so motherly, and the strange urge to cry begins to well up inside of me. “But this is the only safe space. Do you understand?”
I nod frantically, squeezing her hands. I just want to hear what she has to say, even though I’m not sure why this would be the only safe place we could talk. I guess my father might not want to mention my mother in his house. That’s probably what she means.
“Misty, Blossom, and Bambi have been protecting you. You’ve been, for lack of a better word, stuck there all this time.”
My head cocks to the side as I try to process her words. The aunts never made me feel like I had to leave, but they never made me feel like I was trapped there, either. I don’t understand. They were good to me. They were everything to me. My teachers. My caretakers. They gave me guidance and shared their lives with me when they didn’t have to.
“What are you saying?”
“The cabin, dear.” She blinks as she can’t understand how this is news to me. Was I supposed to have figured this out?
“What do you mean stuck?” It’s there, but it’s like my mind is having trouble believing it.
“I cast a ward around the land. You couldn’t cross it.” She looks regretful, or I think she does. “It was at your father’s request.”
I feel sick to my stomach. My hands withdraw from her grasp, and it’s a small reprieve when she lets me go with no resistance. My arms cross over my chest as I try to process what little she’s given me. I need more. I need answers. How come she did this to me? Why?
I know magic is real, but I didn’t think people used it likethatanymore. I can’t believe it was done to me, and it was doneby someone who knew my mother, who claims to have been friends with my mother.
“No,” I say, taking a step back. She looks like she wants to reach for me, but thankfully, she doesn’t.
“You have to listen to me.” I shake my head, but she goes on. “I had to. I dimmed your senses and put a spell on you so you wouldn’t have the urge to leave. The ward was a last measure in case something ever went wrong or the spell was broken.”
I suddenly don’t feel like I can trust her. The room is closing in on me. I need to get away.
She ignores my panic and keeps going.
“I hid your memories of your mother and of your—”
