The Price Guide to the Occult(61)

“Some hearts can’t do anything with love except turn it rotten. I think that was the case with Fern. She believed she loved him, but that love was a sour thing. Who knows what might have happened if you hadn’t been powerful enough to stop her.”

Nor gaped. “I’m not . . .”

“I think it’s about time we start talking truth, don’t you? Far as I can tell, you’re a very powerful witch, Nor. Though some lessons in the healing arts probably wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

Nor blanched. “How did you —”

“I’d had my suspicions. It was seeing that fern, lying there like a dried-up tongue across the kitchen table, that solidified it for me. But at that point, I didn’t want to say anything out of fear that —”

“That I was somehow using black magic?”

“I should have known better,” Judd said. “You’re the eighth Blackburn daughter, girlie. I suspect these gifts have been yours all along. I’m sorry.”

Nor wasn’t sure what to say. As far as she knew, the Giantess had never apologized to anyone before in her life. “What does it mean, though?” she finally asked. “If I’m not like my mother, am I like Rona?” Nor wasn’t sure that comparison would be any better. She sure as hell didn’t want to be Fern, but following in their matriarch’s footsteps wasn’t very appealing, either.

“I think it’s safe to say you are something entirely your own.” Judd patted Nor’s back affectionately. “Now, I hate to bring up your mother again, but letting certain people know you had a hand in her demise might work in our favor.”

Nor let the shock of what her grandmother was saying settle over her. “What do you mean?”

“I think a lot of people are going to be very afraid of what people like your mother — like us — can do. And fear can make people act in all kinds of terrible ways.” She turned back toward the window. “For now, though, you might think about heading off to bed. You, girlie, look like you’ve been through hell and back.”

“I have.”

“It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a shower, too, then, would it?” There was a catch in Judd’s voice this time, causing Nor’s heart to leap up into her throat. Was it possible that being Fern’s mother had scarred Judd just as much as being Fern’s daughter had scarred Nor?

As Nor left the room, she looked back, but Judd’s face was obscured by the smoke spiraling from her pipe.

Nor climbed to the third floor as fast as her tired muscles would carry her. She found Savvy curled up on her bed, a blanket wrapped around her like a shawl. Bijou was asleep on Nor’s pillow.

“I like your hair,” Savvy said.

Nor laughed. “Gage said it looked like shit.”

“What does he know about anything? What a dick.” She paused, giving Nor a guilty look. “I mean, putting aside the fact that I’m pretty sure he saved my life, numerous times in fact, and that if not for him, I wouldn’t be standing here. So, I mean, as long as you don’t consider that whole mess then, you know —”

“He’s a dick,” Nor finished.

“Such a dick.”

“I’m having trouble believing it,” Nor admitted cautiously. “That she’s gone.”

“But she is,” Savvy said, then looked alarmed. “She is, right?”

“Yeah, she’s gone.”

“Well. Ding dong, then.”

Savvy moved over, and Nor climbed onto the bed. Through the skylight, they watched an array of colors arc over the moon like a twirling skirt: Aurora Borealis. The northern lights transformed the night sky with their undulating swirls of bright blues and yellows and greens. Nor rested her head on her best friend’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Nor said softly. “Ding dong.”





A late May rain slipped down Nor’s bedroom windows. Her breath fogged up the glass. The blurry red-and-blue flashing lights of two police cars lit up the night. Nor glanced back at the menagerie of animals in her bedroom: Bijou and the little fox curled up together on the bed, Antiquity sitting on the floor. Kikimora perched on top of the dresser and tracking Nor’s every move with golden eyes. “Stay here,” she told them.

Nor found her grandmother lurking on the second-floor landing. The voices of Apothia and Reuben drifted up from the first floor, where they were greeting the officers and letting them inside. The officers’ steps, resolute and unyielding, resounded loudly on the wooden floor. Their shadows crept like monsters up the winding staircase.

“What do you think they want?” Nor asked.

“You know as well as I do what they want,” Judd whispered hoarsely. “They want to know what we’re capable of. They want to see if we’re as much of a threat as she was.”

Fern’s influence over her followers had ended the moment she’d died, a little over two months ago. All over the country, her millions of fans had suddenly been freed from her control, freed from that fog that had clouded their sight and their judgment. People had been stunned to learn that money hadn’t been the only price paid for one of Fern Blackburn’s spells. Their wishes for success, for power, for beauty had been granted, but at the cost of someone’s life. Guilt-stricken, Fern’s loyal followers had looked in the mirror and seen faces they didn’t want to own.