Witch You Were Here Page 17
“Your mother was holding you on her lap. Your dad was sitting nearby. Immediately, she ran and laid you in your crib. Then she returned to the living room. He attacked her and drained her blood into the cup your grandmother kept on the mantle over the fireplace. But your mother’s blood didn’t help him. He rushed away, obviously forgetting about you. When your grandma came home, she discovered what had happened. She took care of you for a little while, but then decided it was too dangerous for you. That’s when she decided to take you to the other side. And because she anticipated the battle’s ferocity, she decided to leave the cup with you.”
Sprout looks toward me. “After your grandma realized that Night Shadow didn’t love her and just wanted her blood, she knew a major battle was ahead.”
“I’m sorry, Sprout, I don’t understand about the cup,” I tell him.
“Your grandma figured if Night Shadow did defeat her, before he could make her dead dead, she’d flee to the other side and enter the cup.”
“You mean she’s been in the cup all these years!”
“Exactly.”
“But why didn’t she let me know?” I ask.
“She couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“A cup or a chalice is meant to hold liquid.”
“But when the shadow on the other side tried to steal the cup, it had a voice.”
“But it was a very tiny voice, am I right?” Sprout asked.
“It was.”
“That means your grandmother used every bit of strength she had to warn you.”
“That makes me very sad.”
“Don’t be. Your grandma knew the risks. And from now on, all you need to do to talk with her is to make sure there’s water in the chalice. Even a few drops.”
“I can talk to my Granny whenever I want?”
Sprout smiles. “Yes, but she will never be able leave the cup.”
“Why?” I ask. “If she’s there, why can’t she just leave?”
“Oh, she can,” Sprout says. “But then her spirit would quickly fade away, and Night Shadow would accomplish what he set out to do. To make her dead dead.”
“How awful!” I say.
“The good thing is she can help you. Advise you. Offer suggestions. But she can no longer perform spells herself.”
Suddenly, I go over and kneel by Sprout’s chair. “How did my grandmother save your life?”
“She cast her own spell.”
“What sort of spell?”
“Well, as you may not know, she was a Spell Master. She made up her own spells.”
Suddenly I have an idea. “I think you’ve suffered long enough. I think it’s time to restore your body to what it was.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” he says with a sad smile.
“Why do you say that?” I ask.
“Only one in a million is a Spell Master.”
“Well, Sprout, I’m that one in a million!”
“I don’t believe it!”
“Nevertheless, it’s true. So…” I close my eyes and concentrate until I see the runes right before me. I tell them to rearrange themselves. When they do, I follow the motion with the movement of my hands. There’s a bright flash of light and then I open my eyes.
In Sprout’s chair sits a man who appears to be in his mid-thirties. And he’s every bit as handsome as the Doc. Every bit. He has reddish hair, a chiseled face with a cleft chin, and a slender build. “Oh, Sprout,” I say. “Why did you wait so long?” My eyes fill with tears. “I suppose that doesn’t matter, does it? The important thing is you’re back.” I throw my arms around him.
“Thank you, Suzy,” he says through a choked voice.
“And I have a great idea as well,” Doc says. He turns to me when I sit back in my place. “It’s difficult to go to school and keep a full-time job.”
What on earth is he thinking?
“So I have a suggestion. Sprout is a warlock, right?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“A white one.” He glances at the others. “And it takes a white witch or warlock to run the library.”
“Yes,” I answer. “That’s why I needed to be the librarian.”
“Well, why not let Sprout take over the job while you’re in school?”
“But I’ll have to stay here then!” Alfie says, sounding discouraged.
“No, no, you won’t,” Doc says. He smiles at me. “The assistant librarian will be your grandmother.”
“My grandmother!”
“She can’t come out of the cup, as we all know. But she was the head librarian. She knows everything there is to know about how things work.”
“Of course she does,” I answer.
“So she can be Sprout’s advisor.”
“And I can go to Hemlock?” Alfie asks.
Doc laughs. “Of course, you can.”
Alfie starts jumping up and down again. “Duck berry pie. Every day, I can have duck berry pie.”
Snowball gives a loud meow.
“What is it, Snowball? Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? Absolutely not. Now I can have all the unicorn milk I can drink!”
I laugh. “I guess that’s true.”
Doc turns to Sprout. “So, what do you think?”
“What do I think?” He smiles. “I think that’s great! I’m pretty tired of being a gardener. I’m ready for something new.”
“So it’s settled.” Doc turns to me. “All you need to think about is doing some packing.”
I laugh. “And becoming the oldest student in the history of the Hemlock witches’ school!”
“Maybe so,” Doc answers. “Maybe so.”
“So we must celebrate tonight!” Alfie announces.
I feel the heat spread across my cheeks. “Um…actually, I have plans tonight.”
“Plans? Who with?”
I feel all their eyes on me and my flush deepens. “Val is coming over for dinner. I, er, never properly thanked him for saving my life out on the lake.”
“Well, well, well.” Alfie says and I sneak a glance at him. He shoots me a wink. “Looks like Suzy may be staying on this side after all.”
The thought of Val and his handsome face sends a shiver of anticipation up my spine.
Suzy Maycomber…you’ve come a long way…but I have a feeling this is just the beginning.
Acknowledgments
Thank you for reading about Suzy’s adventures in Nightshade! If you have a moment, I’d really appreciate it if you would take the time to leave a review on Amazon.
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About the Author
Growing up, Lori Woods secretly hoped she’d turn into a witch when she’d become twenty one.
Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. So much for saving all those broomsticks! However, Lori decided that she’d pour all her wishes for paranormal mystery and adventure into her books, and live vicariously through her characters instead.