Page 44 of Mochas and Minotaurs

Chapter 21

Griselda

Despite knowing that thesticky note-free section of the wall existed, I was still unable to pinpoint it when I first stepped into the basement. The second Marcus pointed it out to me again, the irrational fear hit me like a brick in the face. I wanted to get away from it as fast as I could. I felt physically ill, but knowing that I was perfectly fine just a moment ago when I was just as close to it as I was now gave me more courage.

It also pissed me off. How dare it try to control me!

I’d come prepared this time with the chalk marker we used to put up the menu at the Witch’s Brew. I uncapped the marker, took a deep breath, and drew a large circle, making sure to extend the circle out past the look-away spell’s area of effect as well as into it. I went around and around again making the circle unmissable.

Then I drew a big X on the spot with no notes. As I did, the fear intensified again. How the spell behaved now would give me an idea of how strong it was.

“Okay,” I said, “I’m going to step upstairs and then come back down and see if I can see it now.”

Marcus raised his brows like he thought it would be crazy if I couldn’t see it, but humored me anyway.

When I stepped back into the basement, I immediately saw the circle and the X, which was a relief because I didn’t know what I would do if it hadn’t worked.

“Ready to see what’s inside?” Marcus asked, lifting the heavy weight he planned on using to demolish the wall.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Step back,” he said as he readied his swing.

It took several swings before he loosened things enough to go in with a pry bar. After that, it was smooth sailing. The second we got the wall broken down, the fear completely disappeared. The spell had been placed on the wall itself and not on whatever wasbehind it. Interesting. That meant whoever had built the wall had known about it.

According to Evyenia’s story, the son had the place built after the witch died. Didhedo it?

The older couple hadn’t mentioned anything about him being a magic user, but if he was the witch’s son, it made sense, though the ability sometimes skipped generations.

“It’s a whole room.” Marcus shone the light from his phone into the hole. “This is the ceiling here. I don’t think I can get through this hole.”

Now that the wall was gone, whatever was inside practically invited me in. It felt warm and friendly. But I was wary. Things weren’t always what they seemed. I turned my phone’s flashlight on and peered inside…right into another witch’s home!

There were stacks of spell books on the table, candles and trinkets on the counter, and a pot still hung over the hearth. A large silver mirror hung on the wall, dusty with disuse. In fact, everything was covered in dust and dirt. A part of me wanted to clean it up and restore everything to its former glory.

This wasn’t the cellar; this was part of the home itself! They’d sealed it over and left everything as it had been. What a shame all this had been hidden away down here and forgotten.

I shoved my phone into my bra so that the flashlight poked out to illuminate my way and prepared to climb inside.

“Wait! Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Look at it all! I can’t believe all this was down here the whole time.”

Marcus didn’t look so convinced. “Can’t you, like, tie a rope to yourself before you go down at least?”

“You sound like you think the room might eat me.”

“It might,” he deadpanned.

I didn’t think it would, but I decided to concede so he wouldn’t worry. “Better safe than sorry, I guess. Let’s go find a rope.”

We never did find rope, and instead ended up using cables from his gym. We also found a flashlight and extra batteries, just in case. Tied up like I was ready to go caving, I descended into the hidden room.

I didn’t know where to start, so I found some rags in a corner and started wiping the dust off everything so I could see what was underneath. Unlike me, the witch who’d lived here hadn’t been a big collector, and from the titles of the books on the table—one of them still opened to a recipe—she specialized in potions. She must’ve been a hearth witch then, like my grandmother.

Evyenia had said she passed out hot chocolate to the kids skating at the rink. I’d reckon that was something a hearth witch would do.

As I explored, Marcus continued working on the opening, slowly making it larger and smoothing out the edges so he could fit. And when I was still alive after a while and the walls failed toswallow me whole, Marcus relaxed and squeezed himself into the room.

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