Stolen Songbird(131)

Remember.

I glanced down at the sprig of rosemary in my hand, the smell of it triggering my recollection of a spell in Anushka’s grimoire. Making sure I was out of Victoria’s sight, I motioned for my light to come closer and flipped through the pages until I found what I was looking for: a spell for retrieving lost objects. “The incantation can be performed to help retrieve the memory of where the object was last seen,” I read softly. “The memory is pulled into the mind of she who casts the incantation.”

Neither of my maids had precisely lost what I was looking for, but I thought the spell might do. That is, if earth magic worked on them at all. They were half-human, but would that be enough? Never hurts to try, I thought to myself.

Firstly, I tracked down paper, pen, and ink. After giving it a bit of thought, I wrote clove oil on the paper and then rolled it up. Next, I needed something belonging to one of the girls. I looked myself up and down. élise had lowered the neckline on the dress I was wearing – that meant the work was hers. I hoped that counted. Carefully, I pulled loose the piece of thread and wrapped it around the bit of paper, followed by a twist of rosemary. “Water,” I mumbled, finding a basin and filling it to the brim. From what Martin had told me about human magic, I understood that a witch drew power from the four elements, in this case water, but I didn’t understand why. Nor did I know why certain herbs were used in certain spells, but not others. Her grimoire was like a recipe book that told me how to perform certain spells, but I had no idea how or why they worked. And I didn’t have time to figure it out now.

Looking over my shoulder, I checked to make sure Victoria hadn’t moved from the spot where I left her. But my friend was slumped in a chair, chin resting on her chest. I could faintly hear the sound of her snores.

Speaking in a quiet but firm voice, I recited the strange incantation, substituting élise’s name and clove oil in the appropriate spots. Eleven times, I repeated the phrase. On the twelfth time, I threw the rosemary-wrapped package into the basin. On the thirteenth repetition, I touched my finger to the water. The sound of waves roared loudly in my ears, and the package began to rotate around the basin. Faster and faster it spun, and with each turn, I felt magic flood up into me. I pulled my hand from the water and the contents stilled. Nothing. I could see nothing. Either the spell hadn’t worked because élise wasn’t completely human, or she had no memory of what I’d asked for. Or maybe the thread I’d included didn’t count as hers. There were so many factors, and I had no way of knowing which one had interfered.

Sighing, I reached for the basin, but pulled back when an image appeared in the water. It wasn’t my reflection. I watched wide-eyed as a pair of hands folded linens and stacked them on shelves. The same hands then picked up a dark bottle and carefully tucked it in next to the folded sheets. This was a memory. This was élise’s memory.

Clapping my hands together, I crowed with delight.

“What’s going on?” Victoria shouted, the chair she’d been sitting on clattering to the ground.

Snatching the water-soaked package out of the basin, I shoved it in my pocket and spun around. “Nothing,” I said, wishing for a moment I could be truthful to my friend. “I just remembered where to look. In the laundry room.”

Victoria tilted her head slightly and pursed her lips. “And when, precisely, was the last time you visited the laundry?”

Never. I grimaced. “Do you know where it is?”

“Of course I do,” Victoria replied. “But I’m not going to show you until you tell me the truth about whatever it is you’re lying about.”

I wiped my hands on my skirts and stared at the floor. Tristan had told me to keep my magic a secret – that it would be dangerous for anyone to discover I was a witch. But this was Victoria, and I couldn’t imagine a circumstance where my friend would ever try to harm me. It was Tristan who never trusted anyone, not me. For me, it was second nature to have faith in my friends – to believe they’d do right by me no matter what. And maybe that was stupid. But I didn’t want to live in a world where I couldn’t trust those closest to me. “I did a spell,” I said, handing her my water-soaked package. “It told me where to look.”

“So, you’re a witch?”

“Yes.” I hazarded a glance up to see how she was reacting. Victoria had a smile on her face.

“Well,” she said, pausing for a long, dramatic moment. “There are worse things to be – things that rhyme with witch. And at least you aren’t one of those.”