Page 41 of Spelled By Truth and Tresses

Lalita ushered me over to the papasan chair, then folded her legs beneath her as she sat in front of me. We chatted about everything and nothing as she filed down my nails, then trimmed my cuticles. The deep obsidian polish shined in the white orb hanging above us as she slowly and meticulously painted each of my fingernails. The sparkles hidden within the inky depths of the color glittered as I tilted my hand side to side.

I snorted, then asked, “Why the hell did I ask you to do this?”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she looked around. “We’ll be doing a lot of work with our hands, and you want them to look badass, right?” She smiled. “Plus, you miss us doing each other’s nails just as much as I do.”

I nodded, then allowed the corners of my lips to turn up and grow into a genuine smile. “Okay, so now we’re done. Are you ready to start?”

She grinned. “Hell yeah.”

I looked down at the chalice nervously, its heavy weight reminding me of my mother’s blood rituals for some reason. My stomach twisted at the thought of Mother, and guilt slammed into me. I shook it off and refocused my attention on Lalita and our task.

We agreed to create two spelled rings, one for each of us, with protection magic. With all the strange and nefarious activities happening lately, it really couldn’t hurt. Lalita flipped open her grimoire on her knee, then leaned over it and muttered to herself.

I placed the silver rings at the bottom of the chalice and poured oil on top of it. I added a pinch of ginger, pine needles, and valerian root. Lalita painstakingly carved sigils into the dark purple pillar candle, then set it down on our makeshift altar, also known as a milk crate covered with a gray scarf.

“The spell isn’t straightforward,” she explained, as she flipped through the stack of her family’s grimoires. She laughed sharply, then said, “Well, damn. I’m glad we chose not to attempt this spell.”

My gaze narrowed, but I lost the battle and grinned cheekily at her. “Oh, L, do tell.”

Lalita cleared her throat dramatically. “One must pierce a magical being’s hymen through virginal sex or with an athame dagger, then collect the resulting blood on the prepared cleansed cotton cloth for this ritual to be successful.” Lalita could barely finish the sentence, her words wobbly and choked with laughter.

I joined her, and soon we were crumpled on the floor, howling with giggles. I turned my face toward her, the soft black rug sliding beneath my cheek. “What was that ritual for?” I asked.

“Um, hold on.” She sat up, then scanned the yellowed page, her eyes darting between the words. “To ward one’s house against a werewolf infestation.”

“Well, that’s definitely interesting and we should bookmark it for later,” I declared, then winked at her.

Lalita rolled her eyes, then smirked. “Okay, let’s take a few cleansing breaths together, then get started.”

“Agreed.”

“We need to link this,” she showed me a chunk of obsidian, “and the rings together. It works as a sort of protection spell against magic, and anything else that intends us harm. She re-read the text. “I hope it works.”

She was better than me at this. “How do we link them?”

“I don’t know.” She admitted. “My grimoire isn’t totally complete, but with darker magic, an offering or sacrifice is usually required.

My stomach sank. “Like what?”

She grimaced. “Well, animal sacrifice is a given…” a v formed between her eyebrows as she thought, “but I’m sure there are other ways around it.”

I twisted my mouth in disgust, then smiled. “Oh, what about blood? If we offer blood from each of us, that should qualify as a sacrifice.”

Lalita winked. “Check you the fuck out, Z.”

Lalita grabbed a pocket knife from her purse, then gently dug the tip into her thumb until a bead of blood welled. She removed the tip of the knife from her flesh, wiped it on a scrap of cotton cloth, and then held it in a nearby candle flame for a few seconds before handing it to me. I repeated the same steps, then together we held our bleeding thumbs over the chalice and allowed five drops each to drip into the chalice.

We each tried using our magic to link them, but it kept sizzling out. The rings fought against our powers as we applied them individually. After ten minutes, I huffed and threw my hands up. “It won’t work!” I groaned. “This is fucking pointless. I’m not sure my siren magic is meant to be used this way.”

Lalita laughed. “Magic, rituals, and spells are not an exact science. Honestly, the most important part of any spell work or ritual is the intention.”

I frowned, then my gaze darted to Lalita as an idea popped into my head. “What if we try to activate the spell together?”

She itched her arm, then looked at me with widening eyes. “Oh, yes! That could totally work. There’s no denying that you have incredible power within you, Z. Anyone with a functioning brain can feel it when they’re in your orbit.”

“Perfect.” I held my hands out over the chalice and candles and Lalita grasped them in hers. The heat from the flames below tickled my arms and sent a shiver down my spine.

As soon as we started murmuring the words of the spell together, I knew we had made the right choice. Our hair rose around us, my braid uncoiling from its braid to mix gently with Lalita’s. An unseen wind blew into the room, ruffling the pages of the grimoires.

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