House of Ivy & Sorrow

THIRTY-FOUR





My jaw actually drops at the sight of Gwen’s house, which is barely more than a pile of ash on a cement foundation. I’m sure no one else can see the tendrils of smoke still clinging to the few upright beams. They are too black, too marred by magic. My guilt swells up anew. If only I had been paying attention instead of wallowing in my own grief.

Kat puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get to work.”

I nod, unable to speak with my tongue caught between misery and fury. Revenge is all I can think about, and for the millionth time since yesterday my mind goes racing back to Levi and his power. I shake the thoughts away. There has to be a way I can stop this Shadow on my own. Too bad I don’t know what that is. I spent all night trying to make Mom’s pendant work again, but nothing happened.

Kat hands me a pair of gloves, and we join in the cleaning efforts. All of Willow’s End has shown up to help Gwen’s family. As we toss charred wood into a giant trash bin, trucks arrive with new lumber and building supplies. Gwen’s dad seems to be overwhelmed with gratitude as he hugs Mr. Svaboda, the local contractor.

“Jo?” Kat says as we sweep ash off the foundation.

“Yeah?”

She leans in close to whisper. “Promise me Gwen gets to know what I know. It’s not fair that she’s on the outside, and I’d hate it if you erased her memory of this. She belongs with us.”

Nana may not be a fan of the idea, but deep in my gut it feels right, important. Gwen, Kat, and I have always been bound together by friendship, and that should never change. “I promise.”

She smiles. “Good, because I hate keeping secrets from her.”

“Me too.” As I think of her so far away at the hospital, I wouldn’t mind having her bound to me. Then I would know if she was safe. “When she gets out of the hospital, I’ll tell her everything. Hopefully she won’t freak out.”

Kat laughs. “It’s Gwen. She’ll have to freak out a little.”

I smile. “True.”

Her expression turns serious, and I’m not sure I want to hear what she has to say next. “What Levi did—”

A truck honks, and I turn to see Winn pulling up next to the fleet of pickups. I run over, happy to avoid whatever Kat was going to say. I don’t want her to know how tempting using Levi is to me, because I’m sure she’d kill me for it. I wrap my arms around Winn’s neck and kiss his cheek. “There you are.”

He kisses me back. “Sorry, my mom took forever picking what I should bring.”

I look to his truck bed, which is filled with furniture. A dining-room table, a hutch, and an old rocking chair. “Is that from your attic?”

“Yup.” He pulls me off and starts unhooking bungee cords. “And this isn’t even half of it. Still have a few beds and an entire living room to haul over.”

I help him with the cords. “There’s really that much up there?”

“You wanna come see?” His face is full of hope, and my heart flutters. His attic . . . there could be something helpful up there, since it would have been where Great-Great-Great-Aunt Fanny kept her history. For all I know it could still be there hiding, waiting for me. It could help me solve her death, and hopefully clear Winn of any responsibility.

I look to Kat, and she waves her hand as if she knows even from a distance that I’m about to ask her if I can leave. After we help with putting the furniture under the donations tent, we hop into his truck and drive to his place.

“You look better today,” Winn says as we head inside. The magic is as strong as I remember. I can’t help but take a little, though I’m already full. “Had me pretty worried last night.”

I sigh. “It’s been a crazy couple weeks, but helping at Gwen’s took my mind off things.”

“That’s good.” We climb the stairs to the second floor. The hall is tall and narrow, and I wonder which door leads to his room as we walk to another set of stairs.

“It’s quiet. Are your parents gone?” I ask.

“Mom went to visit Gwen and Mrs. Lee at the hospital, and my dad is trying to round up extra seed so they can still plant on time.”

“I see.” Perfect. Alone.

When he opens the door to the attic, it’s obvious to me that this place was meant to hold histories like any witching house. The ceilings are vaulted, and windows let in good reading light. The floors are finished in fine wood, and there is plenty of room for bookshelves. Except Winn’s family has chosen to use that space for about a century’s worth of old furniture, piled haphazardly for as far as I can see.

“Do you guys throw anything away?” I ask.

He smirks. “Not if it’s still in good condition.”

“I guess since it’s helping Gwen, I’ll overlook the packrat tendency.” I take a few tentative steps inside, worried that if I breathe too hard it’ll all come crashing down. “No wonder it took your mom forever to decide what you should bring.”

“No kidding.” He points to a nice-looking lamp with a pink ribbon tied to it. “The bow means we can take it.”

I scan the room, noticing that some of the ribbons are attached to pieces that are practically buried. “We’re gonna be up here for a while.”

His smile turns mischievous. “Is that a problem?”

I shake my head. “Let’s get to work before I regret not bringing a chaperone.”

He bites his lip, like he wants nothing more than to spend the day kissing me in the dark corners of this dusty attic. I wish, but trying to find Fanny’s history in this could take weeks. I need it now. Yesterday. We start gathering the marked furniture, taking the smaller pieces downstairs to get them out of the way, and then begin the task of unearthing beds and sofas.

“Wow.” I hold up a beautiful lamp that I swear is Tiffany. “This is an antique dealer’s heaven.”

He laughs. “I know, right?”

We’ve been working for a while, and I still haven’t found anything Fanny might have written in. Sighing, I sit on the nearest couch we’ve dug out, its plastic crinkling at my weight. “So, have you ever found any family stuff up here? Pictures or journals?”

“Oh, yeah.” Winn sets down the large vase he pulled off the nearest bed and sits next to me. “My great uncles fought in World War II. My dad dug out their albums and medals when he was a kid. We keep them downstairs now.”

“Anything older?”

He gives me a curious look. “Sounds like you’re looking for a particular answer.”

I shrug, already hating the lie on my tongue. “Nana said that back when she was a girl there were really strange rumors in town.”

“Really?” His brow furrows, and I can almost feel his nerves. “Like what?”

“Just about weird stuff happening in Willow’s End. I’ve always been curious about it, and I was hoping there might be something up here that could tell us more.”

“Hmm . . .” He rubs his chin as he looks around the attic. It seems the more we’ve “cleaned,” the less organized it’s become, as if more things keep appearing from the nether. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, it sounds like some of the town thought there really was a . . .” Suddenly I can hear my heart thumping, and the word catches in my mouth. I look at Winn, his eyes curious but not at all cunning like Levi’s. He doesn’t ooze desire or reek of darkness. He’s just a guy, and part of me wants to keep it like that. “Never mind. It’s stupid.”

I stand, deciding to get back to work, but Winn grabs my hand to stop me. “C’mon, Jo, you can’t leave me hanging like that.” He tugs at my arm, and when I don’t sit back down he gets up. “I promise I won’t laugh.”


I roll my eyes. “We should get more stuff to Gwen’s.”

“Tell me. Please?” He pulls me so we’re facing each other, and his eyes bore into mine with a kind of hope that is so intense I have to cave.

“Nana says there really was a witch in town back then. That it wasn’t just a myth, and people were being cursed, but then someone killed her.” I don’t blink, don’t breathe, for fear of missing a key reaction. “Have you ever heard of something like that?”

Winn’s eyes flicker with recognition, and for a second I think he might tell me what he knows about this house and what happened here. But then I see fear cross his face, and he tries to brush it off with a low chuckle. “Is that all? I’ve heard that myth, but I don’t think it’s true.”

“You said you wouldn’t laugh.” My heart races because it feels like he’s lying—like he might know all about the very world I hide from him—but he pulls me closer and gently puts his hand on my cheek. His palm is rough but warm, and it sends a jolt of tingles down my spine that may or may not be magic.

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks. “Because I don’t think I can take this anymore.”

He doesn’t wait for my answer, and his lips against mine are insistent. I wonder if this might be a distraction tactic, but then he pulls me right up against his chest and I forget everything. I let myself get caught up in him. His kisses and all the magic up here make me dizzy and giddy. I’m moving purely on instinct now, craving to be closer to him. I push my hips into his, and he guides me to the sofa.

I gasp when his weight presses me against the cushion, and he pulls back. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head. Biting my lip, I can feel my face flushing at the thought. “Just, um, can you kiss me . . . harder?”

“H-harder?” His smile is drenched in shock. “Did you seriously say that?”

I nod, pulling him closer again. “Can’t I like it, too?”

“Best. Girlfriend. Ever.” Winn’s lips smash against mine, and his fingers are tangled in my hair. I can’t help but slide my hand under his shirt. His skin is warm and comforting, and I wonder if maybe Nana had the right idea about protecting the house and hiding. I could hide in this protected house with Winn . . . have my own daughter . . .

“Winn? Are you up there?” his mother calls.

He pushes away from me, scrambling for his shirt. “Yeah! One sec! Crap, what time is it?”

“I have no idea.” I sit up, breathless and surprised to find myself shirtless as well. I seriously don’t remember that happening. “Talk about bad timing.”

“Tell me about it.” He shakes his head, his eyes running over me. “Do you think we really would have . . . ?”

I can feel the smile stretch across my face. “Maybe.”

He whimpers, and I laugh. Holding up a finger, he says, “Be right back. I’ll get my mom to leave.”

“Okay.” I rake my fingers through my hair, and he runs down the stairs with loud, quick steps.

It feels weird sitting in Winn’s attic without a top, so I put my T-shirt back on and start digging through more stuff to distract myself from my pounding heart. He doesn’t come right back, and I start to worry his mom knows I’m up here.

As I continue toward the far corner, I finally feel calmer, but the magic keeps buzzing. Then I realize it’s getting stronger back here, and if that’s the case . . .

I push through piles of stuff as quickly and as quietly as I can, trying to follow the spell’s trail. Reaching that corner, I know the magic surrounds something in the wall. It resonates in my blood, and because of that I’m sure it’s a Hemlock enchantment. Fanny must have put something here.

Placing my hand on the wall, I try to figure out the spell. It’s a code of some sort, but it doesn’t feel very complex, especially in comparison to the rest of the spells on the house. I push some magic into the wood and am rewarded with an image in my mind:

Pointer fingers and thumbs placed on four knots in the wood.

I follow the instructions quickly, afraid that Winn will come back any second. A small opening appears in the wall, and I hold my breath as I realize there’s a book in there. And not just any kind of book, but a history. Hope floods through me. There must be something in here that will save Nana and me from the Curse. But as I read the title, I wish I’d never found it. It can’t be true, and yet the proof couldn’t be any clearer.

History of Cordelia Black.

I shove it back into the little compartment—afraid that it’ll unleash a spell on me—and the wall reseals. Shaking, I make my way back to the couch and pace as the reality sinks in.

Winn is related to the Blacks. His family must have killed Fanny. Even if I can’t see the shadows around him, he’s probably like Levi. Has he been lying to me this whole time? I wish my gut didn’t say yes. His hatred for Levi is way more than being protective of his girlfriend—I just didn’t want to see it. I still don’t.

“Okay! She’s gone.” When Winn rounds the corner, his smile drops. “Are you okay?”

Everything feels wrong, like I’m falling down a dark pit I’ll never be able to get out of. I don’t want to, but I have to give him up before he has me completely. I head for the stairs, unable to look at him. “I better go. Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Wait! Can you tell me what’s going on?”

I hear him following me, but I don’t turn around. Instead, I rip out a tuft of hair and use it to teleport the second I have cover. When I appear in my room, I lean against the wall, shaking.