Page 35 of Muddled Magic

Grandmother pressed her lips together into a thin line.

“What are you getting at?” Otter asked. “Are you saying we’ve been duped? That some witch waltzed into our home and—”

“Yes! Exactly. I don’t know how it happened or who did it, but someone cursed this grimoire. Probably the same person who made us think that not-dog was just a fiáin or something instead of what it really was. A-a demon.”

“A demon?” Otter scoffed. “In a coven’s house? The estate has wards against that kind of thing. It’s impossible.”

“I saw this thing stab both you and Aunt Hyacinth in the chest and suck away your magic, so don’t tell me what’s impossible,” I retorted. “It was feeding off you. All of you, I suspect, for quite some time now. And the worst part, you didn’t even remember that it was happening.”

“Meadow,” my mother began, using the same tone of voice she’d used on me when I was six and swore I’d seen pixies dancing among the tulips.

“That’s why I stole the grimoire. To figure out a way to set you all free. And I have that means now, right here.” I looked pointedly at the trampled ground where Flora had dropped the claw. It glinted even under the dark of the building storm, the morning dew dripping onto its curved length from the grass where it had fallen. “Let me finish this.”

The coven was silent, waiting for Grandmother’s decision.

“Please,” I begged, tears of frustration rolling down my cheeks. “You have to believe me. I’m doing this for your own good!”

The glowing green light faded from Grandmother’s eyes as she released her hold on her magic. She took a small step forward, ignoring the two cats that blocked her path to me. “My dear child—”

“Mother,” Aunt Peony warned suddenly, head whipping to the left, towards the farmhouse.

“Is that a motorcycle?” Otter sputtered.

Dad and Uncle Badger struck at the same time, pillars of earth erupting from the ground and pinning the motorcycle at the apex of its trajectory through the air.

It bore no rider, though, and a moment later, Aunt Eranthis screamed in terror as a gigantic grizzly bear charged straight at her.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Marten’s magic ripped a nearby tree free from the ground and cracked it across the bear like he was batting a baseball. Except the tree shattered and the baseball of a grizzly maintained his charge, swiping first for Aunt Eranthis and then for Marten with his massive paws.

“Shifter!” Otter shouted the warning, realizing the truth of the bear first.

The coven immediately split into groups of three, Dad and Grandmother guarding Mom as she maintained the spell on my cuffs.

Aunt Peony flung a net of stinging nettles at the grizzly’s face, biting into his muzzle, nose, and ears. The bear roared, diverting course, and Marten helped Aunt Eranthis to her feet.

Uncle Badger, Aunt Hyacinth, and Otter were ready for the grizzly, using the power of three to create even stronger magic. Green threads glittered along the ground like spider webs, or ley lines exposed by Caer powder, growing brighter as the three chanted a spell.

Blasting out great, snorting exhales, the bear barreled right for them.

As one, the three witches flung their arms out, and the green threads opened a chasm in the earth. The soil and leaves spun, a hidden force creating a loamy whirlpool that threatened to drag everything not rooted down to the bedrock far below. Leaves, moss, branches, even some of the precious moonflowers all disappeared into the churning ground.

Flora about pulled her curls out by the roots. “For the love of— Mind the moonflowers, would you? Do you have any idea of how much those things cost?”

With a mighty thrust of his rear paws, the bear leapt.

The three witches flung up shields as the grizzly sailed over them, a film of green light like a gauzy umbrella protecting them from the shifter’s paws. The bear landed with a grunt, then dragged his claws down the roots imprisoning Lewellyn. A heartbeat later, a golden-white Nemean wolf joined his side in battle.

“Stop!” I cried, but over the roars and howls and shrieks of my kin, no one heard me. That was my family out there, pitted against my friends, and there was nothing I could do to help either of them. Neither of them knew that if they hurt the other, they would tear a piece of my heart out. I couldn’t bear to lose a single one of them.

“Mom!” I screamed. She gave me a frantic glance, mouth moving silently as her fingers twitched, doubling down on her spell. “Please, let me go. Don’t hurt them!”

She ignored me. They all did. Every Hawthorne had been trained to despise shifters—Lilac and her secret tryst aside—and to destroy them if necessary.

“C’mon, ladies!” That was Daphne’s rallying cry, and the Crafting Circle ladies swarmed me.

“Sorry, cider witch, this should’ve been the first order of business instead of screaming about those moonflowers,” Flora said, scrambling down my left arm to the parasite bracelet. “Let’s get this off of you.”

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