Page 24 of These Witches Don't Burn
“I don’t know. We can try.” Veronica extracts herself from the bed and comes to stand beside me. “Add enough so that it can swirl around and make patterns.”
I squeeze the paint over the water. It turns cloudy, and shapes start to form. “Now what?”
“Now you step back and let me do this.”
“Uh, no.” I return the paint and stand beside Veronica. “I’m doing this with you.”
“You’re not eighteen.”
“And I don’t get to learn this on my eighteenth birthday, because ofyou. I’d say this falls under the you-owe-me category.”
Veronica groans. “Fine. But when it doesn’t work right, don’t blame me.” She places her hands on either side of the bowl and instructs me to do the same. “First, we need to warm up the water.”
“How do we do that?”
“If you’d stop interrupting, I’d tell you.” Veronica shoots me a look before closing her eyes. She takes several deep breaths, and I do the same. “Show us yes,” she instructs the water, opening her eyes to observe.
The bowl grows warm beneath my fingers, and the water spins clockwise, the paint inside swirling and dancing along the magical current.
“Show us no,” Veronica says, and the water falls completely still before spinning counterclockwise.
“This is so cool.” My words come out in a rushed, yet reverent, whisper. I can’t believe I have to wait even longer before I’m allowed to do this on my own. “Now what? Can we ask about the Blood Witch?”
Veronica shakes her head. “First, we ask known questions to make sure everything is working as it should,” she says, smiling up at me. She knows how much this means to me, to be doing this kind of magic. “Why don’t you try? Ask something you know the answer to. Empty your mind of everything except your question.”
My mind goes blank, and I have no idea what to ask. “Umm... Is my name Hannah Marie Walsh?”
“Really? That’s the best you’ve got?” Veronica asks, but I barely hear her. I’m too busy staring at the water before us as it spins a lazy clockwise circle inside the bowl. This is working. It’s really working. We can do this.
“Can we ask about the Blood Witch now?” I prompt.
“One more question first.” The water stills between us, and Veronica closes her eyes. The bowl warms beneath my hands as she silently asks her question. The water spins counterclockwise, indicating a no.
“What did you ask?”
Veronica glances up at me, looking smug. “I asked whether you’re really over me. Looks like you aren’t.”
I yank my hands away from the bowl. “Liar.”
“The water never lies.”
“I wasn’t talking about the water,” I snap. “You must have spun it yourself.” Heat creeps up my neck. I should have known better than to trust her. “I didn’t ask you here to play games. I’m serious about this Blood Witch. How can we scry together if I can’t tell when you’re messing with me?”
Veronica pauses, considering me, her hands still on the bowl. “Fine, fine. I’ll be good. Now come on. What are we asking exactly? Our thoughts must be in sync.”
“I suppose we start with the most basic question: Is there a Blood Witch in Salem?” I step forward and slowly re-place my hands on the bowl. If Veronica messes this up...
“Right.” Her voice is solemn now, no longer teasing, which is a good start. “Just like before. Hold that question in your mind and push it into the water.” Veronica closes her eyes and exhales slowly.
I follow her example, breathing deep and slow as if I were meditating.Is there a Blood Witch in Salem? Is there a Blood Witch in Salem? Is there—My eyes fly open as the bowl burns hot between us. The paint inside swirls round and round. Clockwise.
Veronica’s hands tremble and she pulls them away from thebowl. She looks up at me, her eyes wide. “I can’t believe it. You were right.”
“Who is it?” I ask the water. “Who’s the Blood Witch?” The swirling stops. The water falls still. But then nothing. I look to Veronica. “You have to help me.”
“We have to tell Lady Ariana.” She backs away from my desk. “I can’t believe this. Everyone said we were safe. My parents—”
“Veronica, focus. We need more than a simple yes from a scrying bowl. We need real proof before we bring this to my grandmother. Without it, we risk getting in trouble for meddling. I don’t want to wear a binding charm again. Do you?” When Veronica shakes her head, I reach for her hands and bring them back to the bowl. “Help me do this.”
