Page 77 of Witches of Honeysuckle House
Tourmaline, obsidian, and quartz
An anchor
Objects belonging to spell subjects
String
Something offered
Temperance card
Magician card
She placed the crystals in a triangle, quartz at the top to lend its power and amplification, tourmaline and obsidian in each bottom corner to ground and protect.
The floorboards creaked beneath her. Evie bent down and rested a hand against them.
“I know you’re scared,” she said. “So am I. But I promise this will help.”
There was a low groan from the pipes in the walls.
Evie set one of Clara’s pebbles in the center of the spell circle. Then she placed the necklace her mother had taken from Florence beside it. She unclasped her own necklace and set the tourmaline pendant with them. Three witches to anchor the magic. Finally, she added the doorknob to represent the house, the subject of the spell, or so she thought.
She took a long piece of cotton twine—the same she used for dipping her candles—and tied the objects together. She set both of her misshapen candles in the circle and the tarot cards along with them.
She didn’t know what she could offer to make the binding take hold, what would be powerful enough to undo whatever darkness had her home in its grip. She loved Honeysuckle House deeply, thought of it as her own family. Whatever offering she made had to have an equalweight. Her mind drifted to Angela, to the love growing between them. It wasn’t something she wanted to give up. She wanted to explore it, to uncover every facet of it for the rest of her life, but if letting go of her love for Angela meant keeping her safe—if it meant keeping all of them safe—that was worth it.
And so, she struck a match.
Chapter Forty-Five
Florence, Now
“Evie came up with a spell to end the curse?” Florence asked. Then, a little breathless, said, “Evie came up with a spell to end the curse.”
Pride mingled with jealousy and disbelief. Florence knew her sister had always had the more powerful magic between the two of them, even if she’d lost some of that spark after their father’s death. If anyone could find a way to stop the curse, of course it was Evie. But something in Florence wanted to feel the power flowing from her heart into the wicks and wax once more, to be the one to set her family free.
At the very least, she wanted Evie to include her.
“No,” Angela said, as she shook her head. “I …” The coffees were coming very close to spilling over the edge. Owen squeezed around Florence and took them from Angela. She gave him a strained smile then said, “It’s not her spell.”
Florence blinked slowly. Her gaze shifted to her niece. Clara had summoned a cat with a single candle.
“You did this?” There was wonder in Florence’s voice.
But Clara stood there, biting her lip, tears welling in her eyes. She shook her head.
“It’s your mother’s,” Angela said. “Evie found it in the attic the day it burned.”
Florence braced herself with one hand against the doorframe.
“Evie said it was a binding spell for the house,” Angela said. “She thought your mother had found a way to stop the curse.”
Florence stared at her for a few moments. Evie had come to the same conclusion Florence had: It was the house that was cursed, not the Caldwells. Then, the rest of what Angela said sank in.
“She’s going to try to cast one of my mother’s spells?”
Linda Caldwell was the one person they couldn’t trust. The person who had ensured their father’s death.
