The Price Guide to the Occult(17)

Without another word, Fern took Nor’s father away from her, racing toward the ferry dock as if the island might lock itself down before Fern could make her exit.

Nor wasn’t sure what to do next. So she waited. She waited for the dust of the retreating car to settle. She waited for the ferry to pull away and for its bright lights to fade into the dark.

She waited, and with her little heart breaking, she thought of all the time she spent waiting — waiting for someone to notice her, waiting for someone to care whether she was sick or hungry. Or scared.

Finally, from the opposite direction, she saw a tiny pinprick of light approach. It grew larger and larger until she recognized it as the glow from the end of a pipe.

A formidable woman peered down at Nor. “Well, let’s go then, girlie,” she said.

Nor sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

“Yes. Apothia’s got your room all ready for you.”

“I have a room?” Nor asked, surprised.

Judd harrumphed. “Of course you have a room. It’s been waiting for you for almost ten years. I think that’s about long enough, don’t you?”

Nor nodded and placed her tiny hand in her grandmother’s large calloused one. And that was when Nor realized that someone else had been waiting as well.

But this time, that someone else had been waiting for her.





Nor woke to a cold gray October sky peering down at her through the skylight. After sticking her arm out from her cocoon of blankets, she blindly groped for her phone and peeked at its clock. She groaned. She was supposed to open the shop today, and she was already late.

Bijou enjoyed the warmth of the blankets while she got up and threw on an oversize black sweater and a pair of jeans. The jeans had seen better days, and she promptly caught her foot on a frayed tear in one of the knees, ripping an even larger hole in the worn fabric.

A few minutes later, a piece of slightly burned marmalade toast in each hand, Nor hurried down Meandering Lane toward the Witching Hour.

She found a group of impatient customers waiting for her on the front steps — Savvy was first in line. Her lime-green Afro puffed out around her head like a dandelion clock. She was eating a gooey, frosted cinnamon bun. “You’re late,” she scolded cheerfully as she chewed.

“What are all these people doing here?” Nor muttered. There was always an increased number of sightseers in October — it was the last chance for whale watching — but today it seemed unusually busy, especially for a Tuesday morning. With growing anxiety, Nor worried it had nothing to do with the migrating whales.

“So you don’t know,” Savvy said.

“Don’t know what?” Nor opened the door to the shop, nearly toppling a display of her mother’s book. The candles and colorful flowers arranged around it brought to mind a shrine, as did the way the customers all flocked to it.

“Nor, you have to get a new phone.” Savvy sighed. “You’re living in the dark ages.”

“I like my phone.”

“Your phone is complete shit.”

“That’s why I like it,” Nor grumbled. “What’s the big deal anyway?”

“The big deal is that some famous YouTuber endorsed your mother’s book. Hence” — Savvy gestured to the crowded store — “all of this.”

“And what did this YouTuber say?”

“Basically, she bought a spell from your mother’s book, just for the hell of it. But it turns out the spell worked — she had this horrible scar on her leg from some accident she was in as a child, and it completely disappeared! In seconds! Like poof! Gone. Can you believe it?”

A lump formed in Nor’s throat. The scars on her wrists and elbows began to hum, and she tried not to think about the pair of scissors in the drawer underneath the counter. Could she believe it? Of course she could. Nor was quite certain her mother could cause snakes to fall from the sky if she wanted.

Savvy picked up a copy of Fern’s book and flipped through the pages. “Is it true?” she asked. “Could your mom really do this?”

Nor glanced at the page Savvy was tapping with her bright-yellow fingernail. Her heart sank; that page featured the Resurrection Spell.

“Please don’t tell me you think this is anything but bullshit,” Nor said.

Savvy’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “So what if I do?”

Nor shrugged. “You’re too smart for that. Besides, even if my mom could do all of this — and I’m not saying she can — do you really think it would come without a cost?”

“I know it doesn’t,” Savvy said sarcastically. “There’s an actual price listed for each spell.”

“That’s not what I meant. The fact that you lost your mom doesn’t make you unique, Savvy. It makes you an easy target.” Nor regretted saying it as soon as the words had left her mouth.

“That was a cheap shot,” Savvy said quietly.

“You’re right, “Nor agreed quickly. She gently took the book from Savvy and set it to the side. “This book isn’t going to help anyone, Savvy. If anything, I think it’ll only exploit people’s pain. I don’t want that to happen to you.”