“Yeah,” Fig says, flapping her wings. “You’re like the eternal sunshine of the messy coven.”
“That would be a killer band name,” Rose tells Fig.
Posey sets the enormous book on the coffee table, and it falls open, pages flipping in an invisible wind that that sends our hair flying and Fig into the air.
Twenty-One
“That was unexpected,” Hazel says, her eyebrows flying toward her hairline.
The wind dies down as suddenly as it started, and the immediate stillness of the room sets my teeth on edge compared to the wild burst of magic that nearly tossed us all about a second earlier.
“I don’t think I like that.” Fig jitters, flapping her wings until she lands back on Rose’s head, picking at her hair until she’s half buried in it.
“Fig, are you making a nest?” Posey asks.
“Yes,” Rose mutters. “This new thing she’s doing is not my favorite.”
“Deal with it,” Fig’s voice comes, muffled from the crown of tousled hair she’s created on Rose’s head.
Hazel bends forward, looking at the page the book is flipped open to. “Well,” she says slowly, “it’s a ward, all right.”
Her finger traces over the lines on the page the way they used to when she was learning to read. I remember spending so many evenings helping her sound out letters. The memory brings a small smile to my face.
“It’s… it’s a doozy though,” Hazel adds. “It’s got a lot of ingredients. And you guys are right. It does say we have to call the corners first to create a safe place for the spell.” She pauses. “How the hell did we do this? We were so little.”
“I think I remember this,” Rose says suddenly. “I found the book. We were all playing around with it. Do you remember, Posey?”
Posey shakes her head. Oatmeal chitters something into her ear before curling around her neck like a plush living scarf.
Posey pats Oatmeal absently.
“It feels like a dream,” she says finally. “I do remember playing around with something before Mom and Dad left, but it’s fuzzy.”
“We need a lot of ingredients,” Hazel interrupts, clearly not listening to the conversation anymore. She’s fully focused on the book, and there’s a light in her eyes I haven’t seen in a long time.
I settle into the back of the chair, crossing my arms, Gunner still leaning against my legs.
“Well, what else does it say?” I press.
Hazel looks up from the book and gives us a grim expression. “We need a waxing moon. Moon phases.” She elaborates, when we all stare at her.
“What the hell does that mean?” Posey asks.
Hazel gives her a long, searching look. “You’re joking, right?” She looks around at the three of us.
“You’re telling me the three of you don’t know anything about moon phases, and you’re the ones who are supposed to be magical?” Hazel makes an exasperated noise.“Seriously. The three of you take everything you do for granted. You’re telling me I’ve been out here researching as much as I can about actual witchcraft, traveling up and down the East Coast finding books that might help me unlock my magic?—”
She gestures wildly before slapping her hand onto the book. The house shudders slightly at the impact. She quickly pulls her hand away as if burned.
Hazel clears her throat, glancing down at her hand, her voice slightly less sure. “Moon phases are pivotal to witchcraft and casting spells. Different phases of the moon create different energies for spells. A waxing moon happens before the full moon.”
“See? That’s why you didn’t go into the kitchen with Caleb,” I tell her, arching an eyebrow. “We couldn’t do this without you, Hazel.”
“If that’s supposed to make me feel better about the fact that the three of you know absolutely nothing about witchcraft and just dillydally around doing whatever’s easiest, it doesn’t,” Hazel says. It comes out testier than I’ve ever heard her, she’s usually so cheerful that her tone takes me aback slightly.
I grin. This might be the first time she’s really stood up for herself with us.
Good for her.
