Page 104 of Potions & Prejudice


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I looked out the window, spotting Adelaide and Elm walking hand-in-hand. They could get married, and Adelaide could be safe. Or maybe not since she’d still engaged in illegal activity. But I also didn’t want her and Elm’s love story to start that way: with a forced marriage. I wanted them to get married on their own terms, when they wanted. I wanted Prue to get that job at the bookstore. I wanted Auggie to regain her confidence. I wanted to stay here. With Draven.

“No,” I said, voice hard.

Everyone’s heads snapped in my direction. “We’re not running anymore. We’re not living in fear. We’re going to speak with Witch Superior. I’m going to.”

Mama’s face paled. “Elspeth, you can’t.”

“I can.” I raised my chin. “Because this life we’ve built in Thistlegrove is worth fighting for. I’m sick of running. I’m sick of making you all run. It’s time to take a stand.” I looked at Draven. “Take me to your grandmother.”

“You don’t have to.” Georgie pointed a shaky finger out the window. “She’s already here.”

Forty-Four

ELSPETH

Edgar squeaked and dove behind the couch. “She looks terrifying. Why does she look so terrifying?”

She was a formidable woman, even though she was small. She wore all black, a tall witch hat perched on her head. Her shoulders were back, her chin raised, her ancient face lined with wrinkles. Yet her green eyes were piercing and hard, her gaze cutting as she set it upon our cottage, marching straight toward us.

I swallowed, and Draven grabbed my hand. “You don’t have to do this.”

I squeezed his hand, then untangled mine from it. “Yes I do.”

Witch Superior raised out her hand, her mouth moving as she said something. Our door burst open, and she stalked up to it. Right when she reached the threshold, it slammed in her face.

We all froze. Oh no. The cottage. It was being, well, its normal self.

“What is the meaning of this?” Witch Superior demanded. Once again the cottage door swung open, and once again it slammed in her face. “Open this door right now.”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“I think the cottage is trying to protect us,” Prue said, gaze shifting back and forth.

“I think she’s right.” Draven stepped forward. “It might be a grumpy old cottage, but once it accepts its new owners, it will stop at nothing to protect you.”

Outside, vines snaked from the side of the cottage and toward Witch Superior, wrapping around her.

She scoffed, her arms pinned to her sides. “Unhand me. Why, I never...”

A smile lit up Georgie’s face. “This is amazing.”

“Oh my word.” Mama rushed toward the door, opening it. “Welcome.” She spread out her arms, and Witch Superior glared at her, vines wrapped around her body and holding her in the air.

“This is an outrage.” Her face turned a bright shade of red.

Mama chuckled nervously. “That’s enough, Cottage.” There was an edge to her voice. “You can let her go.”

The vines didn’t budge.

“Now,” Mama said.

The cottage rumbled, but the vines slowly unwrapped from Witch Superior’s body.

She huffed, then marched inside. Her gaze swept over Draven and landed on Georgie. “So this is where you’ve been hiding? Unable to come see your own grandmother?”

Her face was severe, and I saw some of Draven in it. But while Draven’s face could be serious, it wasn’t unkind or lacking humanity, not like Witch Superior’s.

She turned. “And I assume you are the witches who have been living in my realm illegally. I assume you know that in order to be a resident in the Witchlands, you must have magic?”