“This must be Lottie’s book that she left here.”
“I know,” Mr. Benny says, and her eyes widen as she reads.
Ash of rose and lemon seeds
Make a man admit his deeds
She turns the page.
Ash of oak and locks of hair
An enemy will soon despair
Again, she turns the page.
Ash of bones and ivy vines
Bring another back to life
Marigold chews the words as she reads them. “These aren’t children’s rhymes.” She looks up at Mr. Benny. “These are spells. This is ash magic.”
“I think you’re right,” he says, but Marigold hardly hears him.She flips through the book over and over again. “But why would Lottie have this? I do not understand.”
“Miss Marigold…” Mr. Benny says cautiously.
“No.” She slams the book shut and casts it aside. “Lottie cannot be an Ash Witch. She would not have been able to step onto the isle.”
“There is no other explanation,” Mr. Benny says.
“There must be. It’s not Lottie. It cannot be Lottie. She was with me the entire time that we were in Bardshire. She couldn’t have done this.”
She says this, willing herself to believe it—but she knows that Lottie is connected to this.
“I refuse to accept that Lottie would ever have anything to do with the destruction. She is not evil. I will not believe it.”
He gives her a knowing look. “Who do you think disturbed the rune in the apiary?”
Bewildered, she says, “When would she have done—?” She stops herself, remembering the night that she found Lottie wandering around the isle. They were both having nightmares of fire. She woke her up. Lottie didn’t remember how she got out there, but her hands were sticky with honey.
That’s what Lottie was doing in her sleep. She let Versa in.
Everything comes together in her mind—how Lottie could see the landvættir. How she could smell the ash magic. The bad blood that Lottie’s mother tried so hard to outrun. They were running from Versa.
Lottie shares the Ash Witch’s blood. That’s why she was able to resist the curse and fight against it. She is a descendant of the witch who created it. And if Versa was already close, where might Lottie have gone when she left? Who might have found her?
“Mr. Benny, I think Lottie is in trouble. Versa must have found her and used her to get to Innisfree. And after I sent her away, I fear”—she chokes on her words, swallowing her tears—“I fear I may have led her to ruin.” Panic rises in her chest as she pacesthe library. “I must kill Versa to save Lottie from her. I have to take down the protection wards and let the Ash Witch come.” She is terrified, not only for Lottie’s life and her own, but for the fate of the isle. This is no longer only about the curse—this is about defending a Honey Witch’s entire purpose.
Mr. Benny sighs before he stands and offers her a hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’re going to brew up a lot of spells with the last of your honey. You’ll need them to fight off this wicked witch.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
When she has made every possible defensive spell that her grimoire holds, she painstakingly removes every rune of protection from each corner of the isle. Let Versa come—let her come, and let her die.
Marigold’s abilities have strengthened immeasurably in the past few months as she had been unknowingly spending so much time steeping in Ash Witch poison. She has perfected her control of wind and rain, air and water. She can control the movement of the lake. She can shift the direction of the breeze. And when pushed, she can appear to summon a storm—though it pains her to think about using that power again after she used it to intentionally hurt Lottie and drive her away.
