Calli grabbed a pen and paper from the register and wrote down the words exactly. Malcolm noticed she also wrote down the other prophecy from the cavern beneath it. Then she showed the paper to Zelda.
“We came here to talk about this prophecy.” She pointed to what Zelda had said sixteen years ago. “The one you made the night my parents died. And you just said this…” Calli pointed to the latest prophecy.
Zelda stared at the paper long moment before she lifted her eyes to Malcolm.
“Son of Salem… the child of Lancashire blood? That’s you?”
Malcolm’s mouth went dry. “I came from Boston, but I do have Lancashire blood.”
Zelda nodded. “Boston has been the home of the Salem Witch Council for many years now. You would be considered a son of Salem under one interpretation of these words.” Zelda met his gaze. “But you know that prophecies aren’t always clear. It’s dangerous to assume you know exactly what one means.”
“We’re aware,” Malcolm said quietly.
“What is a blood vow?” Calli asked Zelda.
The seer continued to look at Malcolm as she spoke. “Someone makes a vow with their blood. It is a serious thing. If what they vow to do is not performed, the one who made the vow dies.”
“I never made a blood vow.” Malcolm was certain of that. “I would know if I had, wouldn’t I?” He knew that his father had made a blood promise to assign him to the council at the age of thirty, but a blood promise was not the same thing as a vow. A blood promise was something more like a warlock or witch’s official signature only used in very important matters. But a vow… that was a more serious sort of magic that was rarely used because it was lethal if not fulfilled. Only a very dangerous person or a very arrogant person would make a blood vow. His dad would never have done that and certainly not for him to serve on the council. It was too ridiculous to even consider.
Zelda nodded, her expression grave. “You would certainly know. It is powerful magic, not dark, per se…but uncompromising. It’s possible that someone made a blood vow on your behalf, one that you must fulfill or the person who made the vow for you will die.”
“No one in my life would do that.” He pointed to the older prophecy. “What do you think that means?”
The seer’s face paled slightly. She tugged at the colorful scarf hanging around her neck.
“I remember that night, but I don’t remember saying that. I know your grandmother was furious with me, Calli. She threw me out of the shop, and we didn’t talk for months after your parents died.” Her eyes turned distant. “Your parents were there… They overheard what I said to Celestine… and you were there.” She turned her gaze on Calli again. “I know you were. I remember seeing you through the shop window before I left.”
“I don’t remember being in the shop.” Calli insisted. “Wouldn’t I have remembered?”
“Not necessarily,” Malcolm said, his tone quiet. “The car accident might have erased some of your memories. Or you could have blocked them from trauma.”
“We might be able to retrieve that memory, Calli. Come.” Zelda flicked her wrist in a little wave and the “Open” sign hanging on the door turned over to read “Closed” and the lock turned. She gestured for Calli and Malcolm to follow her behind the curtain. There was a round table with a black cloth and a crystal ball sitting on a gold pedestal.
“Sit.” She nodded at the two chairs facing her.
Malcolm and Calli took a seat. Zelda rummaged through several bottles of ingredients on a shelf behind her, then brought them to the table and mixed them into a mortar with a pestle.
Malcolm recognized most of the ingredients. Eye of newt, tooth of badger, and moss from the north side of a rowan tree. She ground them into a fine powder before adding rosemary oil. Then she coated an incense stick with the paste. She snapped her fingers and tip of the incense stick lit up with a small flame. The odd smell drifted through the room, making Malcolm’s nose wrinkle.
“Close your eyes, Calli,” Zelda instructed. “Breathe deep, and think back to that night.”
Malcolm knew the moment that she accessed the memory because she let out a slow, deep sigh and her voice turned dreamy.
“I see my father and mother. They’re arguing.”
“What are they arguing about?” Zelda asked.
Calli’s brows furrowed. “Me…”
Calli was back in that awful night. Clutching her wrapped mummy toy she hid behind a leather arm chair in her grandmother’s bookstore as she listened to her parents arguing.
“Nathan, please let’s stay here tonight. I have a bad feeling.” Her mother grasped her father’s arm, her voice low and urgent.
“Willow, you can’t be afraid of living life, whatever will happen… will happen.”
“But you heard what Zelda said to my mother tonight—” Willow’s voice wavered.
“Your mother hates prophecies and rightly so, because we don’t know exactly what they mean or when they will come to pass. But you and I knew we’d face something serious someday. Zelda told us the day Calli was born that we would not be a part of her future… that she’d grow up without us, and that new path would lead her to warlock who would witch-lock with her. We have to face the fact that it might someday come true, however it happens, we can’t predict it.”
