“That’s why I’m here. You help strengthen the wards each year, am I right?”
“Yes, but that won’t help if the wards are completely gone.”
“Do you know anything about how the wards were first raised? Anything that could help us get them back up?”
The woman peered deeply at Malcolm for what felt like a minute before she opened her door wider to let him inside. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
She led him through the inn’s lower rooms, which were painted in warm shades of butter yellow or sage green. Enchanted portraits of witches and warlocks watched him as he followed Ivy into a sitting room just by the kitchen.
“Sit, dear. I’ll only be a moment.” The innkeeper urged him toward an armchair that had a white and green flower pattern.
Malcolm sank into it, taking in the room. It reminded him of Calli’s home with the gently spinning spells that cleaned the air, directed sunlight toward plants and created a sense of tranquility that only quiet and growing things can bring. This is what he missed by living in a bustling city—not the magic, but the peace, which was a magic all its own.
Dozens of spell books were tucked into Ivy’s bookshelf. Some were clearly old, others new. Intrigued, he got up and slid one off the shelf. He studied the gilded spines.
“Time to Spell: Runes and Rules for those with the Sight.” He flipped through the pages, feeling the heavy weight of spell residue dusting the book. It had been used many times. Was Zelda not the only witch in Moonstone Falls with the sight ability? He carefully slipped the book back onto the shelf.
Ivy returned and handed him a cup of tea. “Here we go, dear.”
“Mrs. Greenlee—” he began.
“Drink first,” she urged, then added “all of it,” when he took only a few sips.
He downed the rest, sensing where this was going.
“Now turn your cup down on the saucer.”
Malcolm did as he was told. Ivy took the cup from him and turned it over.
Her brows knit together as she studied the shapes in the dregs of his cup. A soft, sunny glow radiated from the woman’s skin as though sunlight was reflecting off her.
“I see a serpent.” She turned the cup. “A serpent biting a crescent moon.” Her face paled. “It was you. You—” she halted abruptly.
“I what?” Malcolm’s throat tightened as he clenched his hands into fists on his thighs.
“You broke the wards when you entered Moonstone Falls through a portal. It broke the already weakened spells.” She seemed to be talking more to himself than him.
“I broke the wards… just by coming here?”
“Yes.” Ivy stared down at his cup again. “The wards have been growing weaker and weaker, ever since we lost our last witch-locked couple. They kept the wards strong.”
“Witch-locked… you don’t mean Calli’s parents?”
“Only a witch-locked pair can open a portal inside the protective wards without causing disruption because their power being in tune with each other balances out the disruption of the portal. But you are not witch-locked, not yet…” She set the cup down and cleared her throat. “The ritual to put the wards back in place requires a blood sacrifice.”
A blood sacrifice? He remembered his father telling him blood sacrifice spells were forbidden because they required someone to die. Did this mean he and Calli were destined to be witch-locked, but one of them had to die for the protection spell?
“No… no, no, no,” he muttered as he scrambled to his feet. “That can’t be right.”
“But Mr. Wellesley—” Ivy stood, but Malcolm waved her away.
“No. Don’t. I’m sorry. I… I have to leave. I?—”
Malcolm ran out of the house feeling dizzy, his heart pounding. He braced himself on the sign of the inn and stared at the center of the town. A steady parade of cars were now coming in from the highway. Cars full of people. And sooner or later, there would be dangerous people hiding among those tourists.
And if anyone got hurt, it would be his fault.
Serafina Batsford sat at a table in the chambers of the Salem Witch Council, a white crystal hanging from a golden chain in her hand. She had a map of New York City laid out before her. The crystal couldn’t find Malcolm Wellesley, swinging away from the map instead of pointing to it. She laid out a state map next. The crystal jerked off the southern edge of the map.
