I glanced at Ranth. He looked up as if he’d heard what Rose said, flashing a white-toothed smile, which in the crumbly face was even more monstrous.
“No. I’m dealing with things but thanks.”
“I’ll check in when I get home then. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” I wasn’t sure at all. I fondled a crystal point. I could still do the oil, but the spirit raising was going to be weird if Ranth looked that way to others. He’d have to stay here or in the car. I glanced at him again. Maybe I shouldn’t do the oil either.
Rose rustled. “Be safe. Stay true.”
Her words were a warm hug. “I will. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
I hung up and answered the texts from Ori. Even if I could explain what I’d seen, it wasn’t like Ori or Rose would have an instant answer—and this could wait.
Tonight, I would keep my promises, but tomorrow I’d be cleansing my house with a deep smudge of mugwort, moon water, a fresh broom, and some hemp ropes. Then we’d have a party and do whatever it took to get Ranth back to wherever he’d come from.
I set my phone down outside of my workspace and remade the salt line, then I lit incense to cleanse my space and mind. I breathed in, held it, and exhaled.
First up on my list was refreshing the emergency kits. I plucked out the half-full vial of rose water from its silver case on my blessings shelf. Then lined up the nuggets of jaggery but knew I’d run short of six. Hopefully, the mere essence of super-moon blessed rose water would give enough protection. It was only by accident that I’d stumbled on the fact that standardized religious artifacts and talismans could be useful. I’d done a spirit settling for an older lady who’d grown up with a trad religious background. She’d offered me holy water to try to dispel the spirit. It hadn’t worked for that particular spirit, but I’d used my crystal capture and release, and that had done the trick. She’d gifted me the rest of the vial. That experience had given me a new level of respect for what others believed in, and I’d begun to look at esoteric items as potential power sources: statues, icons, and even elements of rituals like the jaggery. It turned out the holy water didn’t work on spirits, but it did work on demons.
Choosing a white candle, I scented my space and lit a match. The flame flared up with the oil. Sending thanks to my ancestors for their guidance, I assembled the jaggery nuggets, finishing each with a light spritz of St. John’s hydrosol to increase the positivity. They would have to dry, and then I would bag them up. I set the copper tray aside and cleaned my space.
Working was harder with Ranth’s questionable presence in the room, but I was safe from other things in the salt line. Now that the house was warded, Ranth was the only threat. I glanced over at the death visage sitting in my leather chair, still reading journals. A shiver crawled over my skin like cobwebs. Maybe I shouldn’t be trusting him after all.
Knowing I had to still make the intention oil, I avoided using the usual cleansing herbs and chose betony and papaya. If traces ended up in the oil, they would only enhance it. The women who were joining their lives by vow had asked for an herbal blessing they could share. I was joyous about being chosen to craft it for them.
Taking a moment, I counted my breaths. Then with a solid plan, which I hoped would work, I lined up the necessary elements and drew a graphite line around my space. Chewingon a maca root, I went planar within the graphite line, which allowed me to interact with the elements and basically work in a weirdly colored slate blue bubble.
I mixed the flowers with the personal elements and said a binding blessing, lighting a candle and making the appropriate offerings to the intendeds’ chosen goddesses. Then I added each partner’s essences. The crystal vial shimmered in the anti-space. The spell was working, but I was feeling woozy for some reason I couldn’t fathom. Maybe bad maca? It tasted fine, but the air glistened with the same vibration as the vial, and my arm and hand were also covered in sparkles. I spit out the maca before I fell. When my sight cleared, I was lying on the floor of my salt circle with Ranth’s arms banded around me and the words on my arm glowing.
“How the hellebore are you in my personal space?” I scuttled back to the wall away from him. He looked un-deathlike now. I was mentally scrambling to figure out why he didn’t look odd, why I felt weird, why my arm was glowing silver, and how Ranth was standing inside my untouched salt circle.
None of the potential answers made me happy.
He moved toward me, and I held up my hand. “Back up.” Using the edge of my worktable, I hauled myself off the floor.
Trembling, I set the vial of intention oil in the lined box that I had crafted for it and then turned to him, still not sure exactly what to ask. My lead-in was,Why were you old and crumbly?But I’d ask that one when he was less physically close. “How are you inside my circle?”
He was about to answer, but I saw it before he said it.
I hugged myself. “Because we’re bound. It’s your circle too. Flipping foxgloves.” I dropped into the chair, and it creakedangrily under me. I hadn’t really seen the seriousness of the split curse until this second. I looked down at the vial in its velvet nest and wondered if it would even work. I had never questioned my own magic like this, and fury bubbled up inside of me.
“Get out of my circle. In fact, get out of my workshop!” I pointed to the stairs.
Ranth’s eyes widened.
“Go. Stay in the kitchen until I call you.”
He glowered at me but bowed from the waist and, without a word, walked up the stairs.
I collapsed into a chair and exhaled. The memory of his death face etched on my brain. Was that the real Ranth and the other one was an illusion? It made me question everything I thought I knew. There was no way I could offer the intention oil. I wasn’t in the right headspace, and I owed it to my clients to only give them my best. I texted Violet to explain. They’d be disappointed, but somehow, I’d make it up to them.
Still tonight, I had to go grave digging. It had taken weeks to get the permit, and I couldn’t let my clients down despite my current challenges. Since leaving Ranth alone wasn’t optional, I was going to have the company of someone who also looked like they belonged in a grave.
With finally two minutes of privacy, I lit a candle and cleansed my space. With a clear head, I’d be able to handle anything—I hoped.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
