I set a brisk pace, enjoying the light fall breeze that smells of ocean and leaves, as I make my way into town. With my power at a comfortable level, I’m finally able to breathe. The path to town is well worn, and thankfully it’s light enough that I feel relatively safe, but the time I was attacked in these very woods isn’t far from my mind. The deeper I get, the more prominent that reminder grows.
According to Emmet, it was my grandmother that had chased me that night, but I couldn’t really trust the word of someone who had literally kidnapped me. I had to face the fact that the person that caused me harm might still be out there.
Thankfully, I get to the clearing without incident.
The downtown is surprisingly busy as a ferry full of tourists disembarks onto the shops and restaurants that line the main street. I pull out my phone, double checking the name of the shop I’m looking for. After wandering for a bit, I spot the shop tucked in a floral graffiti decorated alley. There are even more shops lining this small outdoor corridor that’s situated between two large buildings. Each shop has a riot of color sprouting around their signs. I take a quick picture, thinking about how much Skye would love this aesthetic.
I enter the shop and I am immediately hit by the smell of tea brewing. The door jingles announcing my arrival. I step through a curtain of hanging beads to get past the door, and it feels like a river of water was just dumped down my body as I cross the threshold. I check myself to see if I’m actually wet, but I’m perfectly dry.
“Oh good. I’ve been wondering when the Knox witch would show up.” A soothing feminine voice says. I look around for the source and spot a gorgeous woman in her mid-thirties pouring a cup of tea from an ornate looking kettle. “Come on, we don’t have much time.” The light from the stained-glass windows dance off her ebony skin as she moves.
“Were you expecting me?” I ask, stepping further into the shop. I take in the wall of books she has to the left, complete with a rolling ladder that extends to the very top.
“Yes, yes. And you’re right on time. Now follow me and take your cup.” She hands me a pink and blue rose painted teacup before turning to go through saloon style doors that lead to the backroom of her shop.
The backroom is dimly lit and stuffed full of overflowing boxes towering precariously around a small wooden table. Books are stacked in piles around the room, but it’s difficult to make out any of the titles. “Sit. Sit.” She gestures to me, taking a seat on a fold out chair. I take the seat opposite her and put my backpack on the ground.
She gives me a kind smile, and I feel instantly at ease despite having never met this woman before in my life.
I eye the teacup warily. “Are you Madame Leroux?”
Her smile widens, “Nice to meet you, Salem.”
“How do you know me?”
“My family has been here a long time, my dear. I’m in tune with all the goings on. Plus, it helps that I’m slightly psychic.” She winks at me, lifting her teacup to her mouth.
“Drink. I promise if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t do it in my store. I have to make a living and murder tends to put a damper on business.”
I let out a surprised laugh and pick up my tea taking a small cautious sip.
“See, you’re still here.” She says with a laugh. “Now, as much as I’d love nothing more than to talk about your love of books, we don’t have much time. Keep drinking, I want to read your leaves before you go.”
I do as she instructs. I hope that she has some answers as to why I am the key to opening the veil and why all of this is happening. Why I’ve suddenly come into my power after a lifetime of thinking I was completely normal.
“You come from a long line of witches, Salem, and not all of them good. But there’s something… that I’m sensing in you. Yes. Something more. You see years ago a coven of witches formed a protection on the island, banishing the demons and evil souls to purgatory. The gate can only be opened from there and you, my darling, are the only one who could muster up enough power to break it open. Only the magic of those tied to the veil can open it again, and the Knox coven that you are descendant from, are the last living witches with a tie to the original families. All other sects were snuffed out one by one. There was one other Knox witch with the power to open the veil, but sadly she died shortly before you were born.”
“My aunt.” I breathe out.
“They ruled her death an accident, but I’ve always had my suspicions.”
“So, my grandmother? My mom?”
“They’re witches, but even combined they don’t have enough power within their veins to form the key. Your mother’s magic is so minimal, most don’t consider her a witch at all.”
She narrows her deep brown eyes at me, her tightly braided hair swoops over her shoulder as she shifts in her seat. I nibble on the bottom of my lip nervously.
“May I?” She asks, hand extended.
“Oh. Okay.” I hold out my palm as she turns on an overhead light.
“Oh, yes. Well, well, well. You have quite the love line here. Multiple loves at the same time! Lucky girl. Hmm…” She leans closer, her cool hand wrapping tighter around mine. “Well, this life line is interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“Yes.” She frowns down at my palm, then suddenly drops it on the table as she rears back into her chair, scrambling away from me as she stands, knocking over her tea in the process.
“Oh, child. What is in you?” She looks fearful, eyes wide and mouth opened, and hand to her chest.
