“And who says you get to decide anyway?” Auggie asked. “Who put you in charge of making decisions for all of us?”
“Auggie, I know you’re upset,” I said in a calm tone, “but I’m doing my best to protect us from any harm.”
“Oh yes, the scary inn.” Auggie wiggled her fingers menacingly. “Thebeds that are so soft they could swallow us up. The baths that are so warm they might scald our skin.”
“The man who we’d owe a great debt to for giving us those rooms,” I snapped before she continued.
Adelaide looked at me for the first time since we’d gotten into the tent. “It wouldn’t be like that.”
“Addy,” I started, but Mama cut me a look, and I closed my mouth.
“I don’t want to argue. Let’s just do our best to get a good night’s rest, and then we’ll figure everything out tomorrow.”
“Oh no.” Prue held up a soggy book, ink bleeding from the pages.
“Oh no,” Auggie mocked, rolling her eyes. “What will you do without one of your precious books you’ve already read countless times?”
“For your information, it’s a book on curses.” Prue sent Auggie a scathing glare.
Some of the color drained from Auggie’s face.
“A book on curses?” I asked in a hushed tone, even though we were on the outskirts of town in the middle of a storm and no one was likely eavesdropping.
Mama’s lips pressed into a thin line. Of all of us, she hated talking about the curse the most. After all, it had been her mother who’d cast it. It was an accident, of course. A blessing gone wrong.
Grandmama had been on her deathbed, and she’d wanted to see her four granddaughters one final time to bestow us each with a parting gift—something witches often did for loved ones before they passed. It was usually a little charm for safety or protection. Something small but meaningful. The magic was bound to their death, so it was forever.
Prue looked at us down her nose, glasses perched on the edge. “Well, how else are we going to figure it out? We have to read more about curses if we ever want to lift the one that keeps us from being able to use our magic.”
If anyone could figure it out, it would be Prue. She was smarter than all of us combined.
Auggie sniffed. “I still don’t understand why Grandmama wanted to ‘bless’ us with marriage and magic.”
Mama let out a sob. “You know she loved alliteration.”
“Well her love of alliteration got us cursed.” Auggie’s jaw locked.
Mama wailed harder, and I rubbed my temples. “Grandmama meant well. She wanted us to all be blessed with happy marriages and good magic.”
She hadn’t realized her blessing had somehow gotten twisted, turned into a curse, one where none of us could use our magic until we got married.
I still remembered standing by her bedside, eighteen years old and feeling like I had my entire life ahead of me. Then Grandmama said the words of the blessing, and I felt a shift inside of me. An emptiness I’d never felt before. By the time we realized what had happened, Grandmama was already gone.
At least Adelaide and I had gotten through Academy, had gotten to use our magic for years before it was taken. Auggie and Prue had been much younger, neither having a chance to really use their magic in any real capacity.
That was twelve years ago. Twelve years we’d been illegally living in the Witchlands without magic.
I shook away the painful memories.
“How are we going to pay for the repairs for this tent or the cart?” Prue asked, pushing her round spectacles up her nose. “We don’t have that kind of gold.”
“We’ll do what we do best,” I said. “Sell our potions. Surely we can find a spot outside Thistlegrove or maybe in town if they’ll allow it. And we can build a little stand or something.”
“But there’s already a potions shop in Thistlegrove,” Prue said. “I passed it on my way to the bookstore.” She perked up. “Maybe we could stay at the bookstore. Think how amazing it would be to sleep among all those books.” She pressed her hands against her cheeks.
Auggie cut her a look. “You might be more delusional than Elspeth.”
Prue made a face at her. I mulled over her words. Of course there would be a potions shop here. I should’ve expected that.
