Page 95 of Witches of Honeysuckle House
The house tipped Regina’s tarot deck from the shelf, ensuring a single card landed face up. The seven of swords.
Linda examined the illustration, then looked up at the shelf. “She’s stealing something?”
The lights glowed brighter, and Linda gasped.
“This is a siphoning spell,” she said as she turned back to the altar. “The temperance card. The magician. She’s upending the balance of magic among the spell’s subjects.”
She pressed a hand to the side of her face, where her witch’s mark was. It had appeared the night her aunt died; the house remembered it well. Regina had claimed it happened to some Caldwells. The last time the house had seen it had been the day Tillie died.
“It’s no witch’s mark at all,” Linda whispered, more to herself than the house. “It’s the mark of a witch who’s been siphoned.”
She picked up the list of ingredients. “An offering,” she murmured. “Last time she gave up Violet, didn’t she?”
The pipes moaned their sadness.
“And this time …” Linda trailed off. Then, she braced herself with a hand against her mother’s altar. “She plans to sacrifice my husband.”
Her voice was a mixture of sadness and rage, and the house wanted to cradle her and hold her close, but there wasn’t time. Already, Regina was making her way back, and Linda was too lost in her thoughts to see her. Honeysuckle House opened the window and slammed it shut so hard the glass rattled in the frame. Linda jumped at the sudden noise. She looked up and out at her mother.
Regina saw her, too. She stopped, but only for a moment. Then, she broke into a run.
Linda turned back to her mother’s altar.
Below them, Regina ran toward the attic, the house creaking every board in warning. Linda crossed the room and stood at the top of the spiral staircase. She gripped the banister with both hands. The house warmed the wood beneath her touch. It was on her side.
The door opened in the room below, and Regina bounded in.
“Hello, Mother,” Linda said.
Regina’s head shot up. She started for the stairs, a little breathless.
When her foot landed on that first step, Linda said, “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
Regina paused. “I don’t know what you think you found up there, but my spell is the only thing that can break the curse.”
“You think I couldn’t piece together the purpose of your spell?” Linda held a hand over her belly. “Florence is my daughter.Mine.”
“And I’m trying to keep her safe,” Regina said. “That spell is our only chance. We don’t know who cursed us, so there’s no undoing it. We have to make our power stronger than the magic that caused this.”
Linda narrowed her eyes. “You mean your magic? The same magic that killed Aunt Violet and took Tillie Grey? Did you kill your parents, too?”
Red flooded Regina’s cheeks. “How dare you.” Her voice came out low and dark.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” Linda said.
The house, too, wished she was wrong, but it knew better.
“You think you’ve put it all together.” Regina took another step. “That I’ve been killing to grow my own power.” Another. “And what? If you push me down these stairs, it’ll all be over?”
“I’m warning you,” Linda said.
“If one of us doesn’t cast that spell, come midnight our magic will be gone forever,” Regina said. “Taking my sister’s life was the last thing I wanted. She’s why I did this in the first place. When I realized I was losing my magic thirteen years ago, I couldn’t stand by and let it happen. I didn’t know how to survive in this world without my spells. And by then, I had you to care for. I had to make a choice. I had to siphon your power.”
“I won’t let you do this,” Linda said, as Regina reached the top of the steps. She grabbed Linda’s arms and pushed her back, but the house steadied her.
“You don’t have a choice.”
Regina threw her weight against Linda, forcing her back. The house helped Linda regain her footing to keep her mother from pushing past her. As the two of them struggled there at the top of the steps, Linda gripped her belly and cried out, bracing herself with one hand against the wall.
