Spells for Forgetting(100)

Understanding settled in Leoda’s eyes, but she didn’t move.

“She always went to you. About everything. So, when she was upset after our fight at the pub, after she’d gone to see August, she went to find you.” I spoke evenly, recounting what I’d riddled out from Jake’s files. “There’s only one place on this island to get henbane—the locked cabinet in the apothecary,” I said. “Did she remember the spell from the book of shadows or did you point her toward it?”

Leoda’s chin lifted defiantly and the glimmer of something vicious shone in her eyes. I wondered now if I hadn’t seen it before. There was something familiar about it because I’d seen it in Lily.

“But Lily didn’t have the skill for a spell like that,” I began again. “And instead of killing me, she killed herself.”

Leoda’s gaze was empty now, completely vacant of the warm, protective woman who’d fluttered over me like a hen for my entire life.

“And when Lily died, you had to change the plan. You may not have been able to get him charged with her murder, but August left Saoirse. So you got what you wanted. All you had to do was wait for Henry to die so you could be sure the orchard ended up in the right hands.”

She didn’t deny it. How could she?

“That orchard belongs to the Morgans. Not the Salts. Lily was the sacrifice the island required.” She said it with an unnerving conviction that sent a chill up my spine.

It had always been about the orchard. Everything on this island was. That’s what August had been thinking as he stood with the lantern in hand, staring into its flame. But not even the fire had been able to kill it.

Leoda hadn’t known what would happen when Lily cast that spell. But long before that night, she’d put her own granddaughter on the island’s altar. And she justified her death with the outcome—at last, the orchard was free of the Salts.

“Let us go or I will take this to the police myself.”

At that, the set of her mouth faltered, her nostrils flaring. “You wouldn’t dare. This island is in you, blood and bone, just like the rest of us.”

“And I’ll burn it to the ground if you hurt him.”

Leoda’s eyes narrowed.

“We have the will,” I said again. “And you have Eloise’s letter, right? If Henry’s will ever sees the light of day, you can use it.”

Reopening the case against August when Jake had already stacked it against him was something we wouldn’t risk. She knew that. As long as both of us stayed quiet, everyone would get what they wanted.

I took a step toward her. “And it won’t just be you who falls for this. It’ll be anyone else who played a part. By the time it’s over, this place will be a ghost town.”

Leoda blinked, lowering the gun.

I reached behind me, not taking my eyes from hers, and a second later, August’s hand found mine.

“I’m taking him with me,” I said, watching her carefully.

She didn’t like it, but she couldn’t argue, either.

My dad jerked his chin back toward the house. “Get him out of here.”

My hand tightened around August’s and Dad didn’t lower the rifle until we were swallowed by the dark. I didn’t look back, measuring my breaths as we crossed the meadow. The truck was still running when we reached the house and the headlights broke into flickering beams as August rounded the hood with one hand pressed to his ribs. The look on his face made me feel sick. If we’d gotten there even a minute later…

I climbed inside, my hands shaking on the steering wheel as I waited for his door to close. As soon as it did, I hit the gas and the tires spun in the mud. The truck rocked over the uneven road, headed for the tree line.

“Are you okay?” I barely got the words out, watching the house disappear in the rearview mirror.

August stared out the window, to the moonlight spilling over the black water below. He didn’t have to say it. The answer was no. I wasn’t sure we’d ever be okay again.





Sixty


    EMERY


We began the way my grandmother had—with earth, air, fire, and water.

Colored stars hung in the window over the dining table, casting a rainbow of light on the floor beside my feet. The window faced east and the moment the sun rose over the buildings downtown, that slice of warm light filled the kitchen of our little apartment.

I flipped the griddle cake on the cast iron and the batter sizzled as Norah climbed up into one of the chairs, crayon in hand. Her sister was sitting on the tabletop, bare feet swinging into the air as she finished the pile of blueberries I’d set beside her.

The red brick building on East Street looked out over the park, and on clear days, you could see the mountains in the distance. They were the same ones you could see from Saoirse, but the island felt a whole world away these days.

I hadn’t been back in the six years since August and I took the ferry. Neither of us had. That was better, I thought. To cut Saoirse from me like the rotten part of an apple.

But I had taken one thing with me, and in turn, I’d given it to my daughters. The old ways. I taught them as Albertine and my mother had taught me. Our apartment sat in the middle of the bustling city, but inside, it held the magic of herbs, bones, stones, and shells. Ash and black salt and sigils carved into candles. I still dried my sage and lavender in the window, and I still made the infusions I’d been taught for my neighbors. I’d even begun to read the tea leaves again, though it had been a slow return to the practice.