“The unease in the witch community is growing. We’ve never been attacked in our hometowns before. I fear what they may do soon.”
“They think this is vamp related then?” he asks.
“It’d be the best bet.”
“If we were the ones causing this, why would our own be affected?” Percival reasons.
“Panic has never bred common sense.”
He grabs her hand. “I will investigate further and see what I can find.”
The scene fades, and we return to the garden.
“You want me to talk to them about the past, don’t you?”
Alida nods. I turn the scene over in my mind. Mémé alluded to having a crush on Percival, but what I saw was much more than that. Perhaps I don’t know my family as well as I thought. Alida was killed in the Reaping, the second wave of witch hunting; no one likes to bring it up. The scars physical, mental, and other run deep. With the ancestors are getting involved, the choice was taken from me. I need to prepare to have an uncomfortable conversation. Alida flickers out of view.
Soon.
Chapter Four
Seated at the long wooden table, I carefully strip the dried herbs from the stems and place them into their proper glass containers. Replenishing inventory is a tedious affair. We pride ourselves on having the freshest. Ensuring that statement is true costs hard labor and stiff fingers. Vain creatures that we are, it’s a point of pride that keeps us harvesting throughout the year.
After an hour, I’ve found a rhythm. The stripping and sorting are almost cathartic. My mind is blissfully blank while I work. Today’s hectic morning shift was exactly what I needed. That kind of pace makes worry impossible. That’s the best part about helping others. You’re literally too focused on others to worry about yourself. Today Mémé is in the shop. She only comes in twice a week, so it’s always abnormally busy. At ninety, she deserves more time off.
“How are you doing back here?”
Speak of the devil. I glance up at Mémé and smile. “It’s coming along. Did Mom come in to relieve you for a bit? I know Felicite is good, but the mini-mob was lined out the door.”
“She did. It feels like everyone and their mother choose to come in today.”
I hum in agreement. “It made the time fly, though.”
“That it did.” She takes a seat in the chair beside me, and I’m hit with thoughts of Alida.
“Mémé, I had an interesting visitor in my Moon Garden the other night,” I say casually.
She chuckles. “What critter did you catch messing with your flowers? Do you need an old remedy to get rid of them?”
“Oh, it wasn’t a living being.” I study her from beneath my lashes.
Her eyes flicker toward me, and her pupils dilate. “You’re seeing the dead now?”
I nod my head. “Only this one so far. I think it was more her projecting than me gaining a new skill.”
“Anyone I know?”
I set down the herbs and turn my body toward her. “Alida.”
“My sister?” she whispers. The color leaves her face.
My stomach twists like a tornado, and I question my judgment call. Mémé is not a young woman. Should I be burdening her with this? There’s a reason I’m taking over her position in the family.
“What did she say?” Mémé whispers.
“She never actually spoke, but she did show me a memory of you and Percy talking about missing people.” Blood settles in her cheeks and neck. “What was Percival to you exactly? Because he seemed like much more than some school girl crush.”
“The one who got away, but never stayed gone. The ultimate temptation that’s haunted me.” The depth of her feelings leaves me speechless. “An ally in the darkest of times. My best friend.” Her voice cracks. The longing and regret I once glimpsed in Percival’s eyes goes both ways.