The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root) (34 page)

“I just finished up a really big show and I could use some time away,” Eve said. “Performing takes its toll on you, if you don’t learn to rest. Besides, my agent knows where to reach me if something important comes up.”

She looked up and to the right, her lips moving as she silently counted. “...I could probably juggle a few things and stay long enough to get this place going again.”

Eve removed a broom from the supply closet and began sweeping the floor, pushing up more dust than she collected. When she had gathered a sufficient amount, she opened the front door and let it roll out.

“I thought you were helping Shane open up Fondue Land?”

“This shop was the heart of Dark Root. If we can get it up and running, both the festival and Shane’s restaurant are bound to be successful.”

“Why does any of this matter to you?” I asked, genuinely interested.

“I don’t know,” she replied, pausing to think. “It just does.”

As Eve resumed sweeping, I checked the bins beneath the glass counter. Once they had been filled with fresh herbs; now everything was brittle and dried up.

“I saw Mom and Merry today,” Eve said casually, as she put the broom away.

“Oh?” This was news to me.

“Yeah. Paul drove me. Stayed and visited awhile. Mom’s not looking so good.”

I moved from the bins to the shelves, inspecting the assorted knick-knacks and items that were now coated in layers of dust. Some of the things I remembered, some were new.

“Had lunch with Merry while we were there,” Eve continued. “I think it cheered her up.”

“That’s nice,” I said, trying to sound like I didn't care. But I did care. Even though I didn't want to go to the hospital I cared that Eve had gone.

Eve wasn’t going to drop the conversation. “I apologized for not bringing you, but Merry knows how you get about death and stuff. She understood.”

If my sister wanted me to feel like crap, she was doing a good job. I was thinking of a way to defend myself when I noticed something on the chair near the front door. It was so covered in dust it was almost unrecognizable.

“Eve, look.
The book!
”

I had forgotten much about my time in Dark Root, including Mother’s book of spells. But there it sat in the corner, quietly, unassumingly, as if it were just waiting, wanting to be picked up.

“So? It’s just one more dusty artifact in this place. Why do you care?”

I didn’t have an answer.

I had never cared about it before, but finding it now seemed monumental. I blew the dirt off the cover and read the title:
Prayers, Curses, and Incantations.
Opening it to a random page, I was surprised to see that the paper was yellow and crumbling.

I gingerly turned the pages, calling out names of spells that sounded particularly interesting as Eve wiped off the bookcases. “Changing the Weather. Finding Money. Warts. I could have used these back at Woodhaven. Hey, here’s one for you––a love charm.”
 

Eve pretended not to hear me.

“I’m taking this,” I said.

Eve turned to me. “Aren't you worried about
The Curse?”

“I figure if Mother could actually curse someone, we would know by now. That mailman she had a feud with when we were kids seems healthier now than ever. Besides,” I added. “The curse specifies that its only non-family members who aren’t allowed to remove the book. I am her daughter.”

I turned the pages, wiping them carefully as I went. “...And it looks like someone has already tried. There are two pages missing.”

Pages 32 and 78 had been ripped from the book. Maybe the curse only worked if you tried to take the book in its entirety? Someone may have found a loophole.

“Suit yourself,” Eve said, reaching for something on one of the higher shelves. “Hey, Maggie, remember this ugly thing?”

Eve tossed me the object and I caught it, a small glass owl. I remembered the last time I had seen it, just a few minutes before Michael walked into our shop and changed my life forever.

“Take it,” Eve said, watching me study it. “You’ll need the company when you go.”

I gave her a questioning look, wondering if she knew my intentions to escape once everything was ‘done.’ She offered me a wicked smile, but didn’t speak. I placed the owl and spell book in my purse, next to the pocket that contained my bus pass out of here.

I was curled up in bed reading a book. June Bug was asleep beside me, tired from a full day of painting pictures and capturing caterpillars. The phone rang. It was Merry.

“How you holding up?” I asked.

“I’m exhausted, but Aunt Dora’s been helping. How’s my daughter?”

“Anxious to see her mommy.” I stroked June Bug’s hair, careful not to wake her. “When will you be coming to town?”

“Soon, maybe tomorrow.”

“Good. I miss you.” I stopped for a second, embarrassed to even ask. “How’s Mother? Any news? Aunt Dora’s been tight-lipped about her.”

Merry’s voice took on a heavier tone. “At first they thought she had a stroke, but now they aren't so sure. They have been testing and scanning her like crazy, but everything comes back clean. She just won’t wake up.” I could tell she was on the verge of crying. “...I’m paying one of her old friends to sit with her at night so I can sleep at a motel down the road. God, I feel so guilty leaving Mom with someone I hardly know, but I just can’t...”

“Don’t feel bad Merry. You’re a saint.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, deflecting, but I heard the smile in her voice at the compliment. “But thanks for saying so.” She sniffled, blew her nose, and continued. “...The hospital says that if her condition stays the same, she can probably come home as long as she is monitored. That means paying for a nurse. I’m not sure how we can pull that off. I’m guessing Mom doesn’t have great health insurance.”

“Maybe we can take up a collection from the Witches Union?” I said, joking.
 

Merry laughed.

“You always make me smile,” she said.

“Don’t worry, Merry. We will figure it out.” There were probably a million ways to raise money for Mother. We just had to put our heads together and come up with them. I had helped to buy a house in Northern California by selling flowers. Surely, I could conjure up a few bucks to help with a nurse.

“Even if we do come up with the money, Mama’s social worker won’t release her until her home is ‘clean and safe’. I can’t put this on Aunt Dora, so it means––”

“That we will be cleaning up our mother’s mess.”

“Yes.”

I hadn’t told Merry about the incident in the nursery a few weeks ago. It had seemed too much then, and I didn’t want her to worry any more than she already was. Still, she needed to know, especially if we were going to get Mother’s house ready for her return.

“Merry?” I began meekly. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“First, let me say I’m sorry for keeping this from you. I feel terrible about it.” Then I told her everything––the attack on her daughter, breaking June Bug out of the nursery, taking her back to Harvest Home. By the end, I was crying.

“I see,” she said, far too calmly. There was a strange clicking sound on the other end of the line, like she were tapping her fingernails against the phone. “It’s come back then.”

“Back?” I was startled by her response. “What do you mean, it’s come back? I thought you didn’t believe me?”

“There are some things I didn’t want to believe in, but I always knew. Though I couldn’t see it like you did, I could sense it. I just didn’t want to scare you any more than you already were.”

“It’s horrible, Merry. Whatever
lives
in that room is just horrible. I haven’t returned to Sister House since that night. I don’t think I can ever go back.”

“But Maggie,” she replied, equally calmly. “We have to go back. We have to send that bastard back to where he came from.”

Eighteen: The Joker

The phone vibrated on my chest, waking me.

Somehow, I had fallen asleep with it still in my hand after my conversation with Merry. I rolled my head across the pillow, trying to focus my eyes. When I could finally see, I noticed Jason’s name on the screen. It was 10:20 in the morning and June Bug was nowhere in sight.

How had I slept so long?

I dialed Jason’s number. I had not called since I left Woodhaven and I hoped that he would forgive me. He was still very important to me, even if I had left him behind.

“Maggie!” His familiar voice on the other end made me smile.

“Hey there, sorry for not contacting you. Life’s been crazy.” I twirled the ends of my hair as I thought about what to tell him. So much had happened in such a short time.

“It’s okay,” Jason said hurriedly. “I’m sorry to be bothering you. I know we are the last people in the world you probably want to hear from.”

I was about to assure him this wasn’t true but he kept talking.

“...I wish I was calling just to catch up but I needed to warn you.”

I sat up straight. “Warn me? About what?”

“Michael. He’s on his way to Dark Root. He left in the van about two hours ago.”

“Michael is coming for me?” I shook my head in disbelief. Michael didn’t drive.

“Yeah, and he looks a bit crazy, too. He’s been practically manic lately...yelling, cursing, throwing things. And he has this look in his eye. I tell you, it’s almost feral. He figured out where you are––deductive reasoning, I guess.” Jason snickered nervously. “He wants you back.”

“I see,” I said, trying to wrap my head around what he was saying. I had never seen Michael lose control. This new image didn’t compute. “Are you sure he’s coming...here?”

“Yes. Sorry, Mags. I tried to stop him, but he’s developed this Hulkish strength. The last few weeks he’s been difficult, running most everyone off.”

“But not you.”

“Not me,” Jason sighed. Then his voice turned wistful. “Not yet.”

“Is Leah still there?” I asked, catching my breath.

“Nope. She is gone too, left right after you did.”

“She left on her own?”

“Yes, slunk back to whatever cellar she crawled out of.”

“Ferret Village,” I said.

“Weasel World,” he added.

I felt my heart flutter as I recalled our goodbye at the bus station and I realized I missed him. “You always knew the way to a woman’s heart.”

“That’s me. The Commune Casanova.”

We both went silent. I could hear a heartbeat and I wasn’t sure if it was mine or his. After several moments he spoke again.

“At any rate, not sure how long until he reaches you, assuming he knows how to get there.” Jason laughed and I understood. Michael had an uncanny knack for getting lost.

“Thanks, Jason. You are good to me.”

“All in a day’s work. And now, I think it’s time I head out, too. I’m in this big house alone and I’m starting to feel like I’m haunting the place.” He paused. “I don’t think this was the end that Michael predicted.”