Page 2 of Haunted Heart
That acrid chill air that ruffled my hair before now sweeps dead leaves across the porch.
It’s a full moon Friday night.
The corn maze our grandmothers’ run each autumn had an unusually high number of visitors today, but they’ve gone now.
Minnie kicked out the last of the stragglers who’d driven all the way out here to see two witches’ handiwork. Even if they think thewitchthing is just a gimmick.
Tonight is the first night our grandmothers have been gone all year. They left Minnie in charge of the maze because they have their own spells to perform.
Their absence is the reason I was able to liberate The Book. They’d never have let it leave the scrying room if they’d been here to stop me.
“There it is!” Minnie’s words are all excitement and relief, but when I hear the paper tear, I tense up like a cat.
Eyes wide, disbelief silencing me, I turn to Minnie. She stands with the torn page in hand and a grin on her face.
Physically, we might be identical, but otherwise…
“Minerva Humphries, what the hell did you just do?” I snatch The Book up from where she’s left it on the boards and finger the jagged remains of the now missing page.
“Don’t worry, I’ll fix it in the morning,” she says, with a conviction that lacks the surety I’d like it to have. “It will be fine!”
“Will it?” I close The Book and clutch it to my chest.
She shrugs. “I’ll make it fine.” Biting her lip and peering at me, she asks, “What are you going to use it for, anyway?”
I don’t call her out for changing the subject. “I’ll tell you if—whenit works.”
She nods and looks into the dark house. “Say ‘hi’ to your girlfriend for me…”
A lamp near the stairs flickers.
“She heard you.” I’ve stopped arguing that she’s not my girlfriend.
Julia would contradict me, and I think I’d like it… if we could have a conversation that was more than our strange version of morse code.
“You do your thing,” Minnie says, tucking the spell into the pocket of her skirt—even with tights, I don’t know how she can stand to wear the fluttering fabric that barely makes it to mid-thigh at this time of year. “I’ll do mine. We’ll see who’s still alive in the morning.”
She hops down the stairs and sprints back across the field.
“What does that mean?” I yell after her.
“It means don’t kill anyone if you don’t have to!” Her voice catches on the wind, disappearing into the orange glow of the approaching sunset.
Picking up my bags, I watch her for a moment before I go inside and close the door behind me.
There’s no electricity here, but the lamps light as I pass through the foyer and into the drawing room where I plan to hold tonight’s fake seance.
That’sjust window dressing for the spell I need to perform.
I unload drinks on a side table and roll the rug away from the showpiece incantation circle I drew yesterday and then hid on the off chance my grandmothers stopped by for the first time in years.
The rug didn’t disturb the sand, but footprints will, so I step carefully.
With a snap, I light the two dozen candles I set around the room in preparation for this farce.
“Never leave a flame unattended” is only a rule for normal fire. I turn my back on the witchflame and know that nothing will burn that isn’t supposed to.
Taking the last bag with me, I head upstairs, skipping the third step and avoiding the railing as I go. Julia might not be trying to kill me anymore, but the house is stillold, and she has done a fair amount of damage to it.
