“Wands are just silly claptrap,” she declares. “But crystals give you a little boost. Hence”—she flaps her wings—“everything around here, pretty much.”
The crystals and polished rocks and candles lined up on every windowsill begin to make sense, but it’s still a lot to take in.
“I don’t know why it’s easier to believe my grandmother was reincarnated into a cockatoo than to accept that I could do magic,” I admit.
“Then let’s try something, because I can tell you’re not abeliever. I was, because I started early and grew up with it. I helped my mother and grandmother in the kitchen, and saw firsthand what they could do. But then your mama…”
My jaw drops. “Hold up. My mom was a witch, too?”
She flaps her wings in annoyance. “Doesn’t matter. Focus on you.” She jumps up onto the carpeted toilet seat. “Now, look, magic requires four things: ingredients, water from your source, a spell”—she bobs her head—“and blood.”
8.
I stare ather. “Blood? Gross.”
“Not a lot of blood,” she allows. “Just a few drops for most spells. We’re not talking gallons. A drop of blood, a little water, some ingredients, and the right incantation, and you can do all sorts of things.” Her crest raises. “Wanna see?”
“Now? You want me to do magic now?” I hold out my arms to show the absolute wreck that is my current situation. I am totally unprepared to do magic; I don’t even have a pointy hat. It almost feels like one of those dreams where you realize you’re back in school and have to take a test you haven’t studied for, except I’m fully clothed and talking to a parrot.
“It’s not hard. You already did half a spell today.”
At first, I’m puzzled, but then I think about what happened at the waterfall. She—Doris—bit me, I bled in the water, and then it was like I was upside down on a roller coaster for a moment and suddenly my grandmother was talking in my head. “My blood, the waterfall…”
She bobs her head excitedly. “Plus the spell I’d already done, just waiting to happen. It was supposed to be Diana and Moon, but—” She must see my face harden. “Okay, okay, I’ve got to stop putting it like that. I wasn’t expecting…you. I didn’t know you existed. I didn’t even know your name until I heard you give it to the Blakely boy. Your mother must’ve used the last of her magic to shield you from me. Rhea, honey, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I’ve always wanted a granddaughter.”
“You have two more.”
I hear the gasp in my head as the cockatoo flaps her wings and raises her crest in excitement. “Three! Three granddaughters! Well, how do you like that? I swear, your mama—”
“Do not say one bad word about her or I’ll feed you worms for dinner.”
“Honestly, I don’t think I’d mind. I guess I’m getting used to this body. Anyway, I want you to look under the sink. There’s a milk jug full of water. But don’t you spill a drop. That’s notnormalwater.”
It looks normal, and it’s definitely not 1% milk, as the sticker suggests, which is good, because it would be totally curdled.
“See the little seashell dish by the sink? Pour out maybe a teaspoon of water into that dish.”
I do. It’s honestly pretty difficult, because the jug is very, very full, and there’s a frantic cockatoo dancing on the toilet, urging me to be careful.
“Now, there are two ways to do this spell. You can use an eyelash or a marigold petal.”
“I vote marigold,” I say, not wanting to pluck myself bare.
“Tough. Today it’s eyelash. Just run your finger over your eye and half the time, one will fall out. I’d give you one of mine sinceI’m too old to be that vain, but it appears I don’t have them anymore.”
I lean close to the sink and am fortunate to find an eyelash already on my cheek. I hold it out on my finger to show her. This all feels very silly, but literally everything today has felt silly, starting with the water tower labeledCumming,which, I mean—what’s in there?
“Now just drop the eyelash in the water, add a drop of blood, and say—”
The word she says sounds like a drunk person saying, “Bear slick.”
“Slow down, GamGam. I don’t currently have an open wound.”
“Yes you do, and I’ll give you another one if you call me GamGam again. Just pinch your bit finger, for Pete’s sake.”
I unwrap the paper towel, and, yeah, it’s not hard to get a drop of blood. It plunks into the tiny puddle and disperses as the single dark eyelash floats on top, coated in waterproof mascara.
“Bear slick?” I ask.
