House of Ivy & Sorrow

EIGHT





He screams, his hands instinctively going to his face. His fingers grab at mine, strong despite their shaking. The shadows curl around me like a thousand snakes as they try to break through the amulet. Blood trickles from his eyes as he crumples to his knees. I follow so my spell will stay inside him. The mossy dirt is spongy, and soon my jeans are wet. My father pushes against me, trying to throw me off balance.

As awful as I feel, I hold my ground. I have to. Already the darkness is leaving his body, his eyes being purged of the black curse on them. Shadows fight to enter me, to stop me from removing them. If it weren’t for Nana’s amulet, I’d be consumed by their power already.

“Why?” he moans, and all my insides shrivel up.

“I’m sorry. It’ll be over soon.”

The darkness has nearly left my father, but now it’s everywhere. It saturates the air so much that I can hardly see him in front of me. All is black, heavy, and endless like death. I take in a sharp breath when the first of the shadows breaks through. It’s cold and power and hate, and it makes me tremble. This amulet won’t last long enough, not against this.

My dad goes limp, but the battle has just begun. I stand, my legs brittle like raven bones, and concentrate on pushing the darkness away from me. It jumps back, but it’s strong and persistent. I’m not sure I’ll have enough magic to get rid of it all. And worse, I swear it knows me. I don’t know what that means but I don’t like it. Without a noise, it tells me how badly it wants me.

It wants to consume.

It wants to hear me scream.

It will enjoy every second it tortures me.

No. Scare tactics won’t work on me. I’m the one with the power here. Taking deep breaths, I draw on the magic in the tree and force the black away from my body. Slowly, slowly, it retreats. I can see my father on the ground, the soft swinging of the willow branches, the light peeking through the vines. The darkness swirls in front of me, like a storm cloud twisted up on itself.

And then it opens its eyes.

That is so not normal.

Limbs begin to form from the cloud, and I stand there, terrified and unsure of what to do. This was not in the plan. We thought my dad had a spying curse, not whatever this thing is. And by the way it looks at me, its hunger depthless, I have a feeling it’s . . .

“Get back!” Nana cries from behind me.

I whirl around, relieved to find a door to our house standing there under the tree. Nana rushes forward, a dagger in hand. Not your normal dagger, of course, but one made from the jaw of a lion and dipped in white rose oil.

The darkness laughs—at least that’s what I think the crackling sound is. Now it looks human, but not quite. It’s more like the shadow of a person, if a shadow could stand in front of you and feel as heavy as iron. It lunges for Nana, but she ducks and shoves the dagger right into its belly.

Poof.

Not a scream or anything. It just poofed, as if it wasn’t a threat at all. I let out a breath, feeling lighter now that it’s gone. Nana puts a hand to one knee, panting and trembling from the loss of magic. I feel the weakness in my bones, too, but she must have used much more magic than I did, casting whatever spell that was.

I go back to my dad. He looks awful, his eyes bloody and his clothing covered in dirt. I kneel next to him and put my hand on his cheek. It’s warm and prickly and not at all dark anymore. “You’re safe.”

Nana clears her throat. “Josephine. We have another problem.”

“Wha—?” I look up to find exactly what she means.

Kat.

She stands by the willow’s trunk, frozen like a statue. I have no idea when she got there, but it must have been while everything was dark because I swear no one was around. I’ve been so careful not to give any clue about my heritage, and now she’s seen enough to give her nightmares for years.

I take a shaky step forward. “Kat . . .”

“What the hell?” She shakes her head. “What the hell, Jo?”

I glance at Nana, unsure of what to do. Can I explain? Are we going to be concocting a mind-erase spell this evening? “I . . .”

Kat points to my dad. “What did you do to him? Did you kill him? Are you gonna kill me now?”

“No! It’s not what you think,” I say, though it’s probably mostly what she thinks. “I’m not a murderer. He’s fine—better than he was with that thing inside him.”

Nana clears her throat. “Calm down, child.”

Kat stares at her. “Calm down? You’re the witch who lives under the bridge, aren’t you? I thought that was a joke!”

“Your choices are simple.” Nana waves the dagger at her. “Come with us willingly, or come by force.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but Kat’s eyes get wider. “Those are my only choices?”

“I suppose I could remove your vocal cords, if you’d like a third,” Nana says.

Kat’s hand goes to her throat. “Option one, please.”

“Good.” Nana pulls open the door. “Get your father, Josephine.”

“Father?” Kat says it like it never crossed her mind that I had one, and then Nana shoves her inside.

“Be right there.” I put my hands on my hips, trying to process what happened. This didn’t go even remotely according to plan, but at least that evil spell is gone. Never mind the creepy shadow and one of my best friends walking in on an exorcism. I’ll take one problem at a time, and right now that would be figuring out how best to carry my dad into the house when I’m barely strong enough to stand after using all that magic.

I end up grabbing him under the arms and dragging him. Once he’s inside, I shut the door and breathe in the magic. When I have enough to feel better, I perform the spell to make the portal to our house disappear from under the willow. Then I run to the apothecary, where Nana has Kat in the chair. She looks so small there, like a child waiting to be scolded.

“Josephine,” Nana says as I search for eagle feathers. There’s no way I can get him upstairs on my own, so a floating spell it is. “Would you consider this girl trustworthy?”

The question startles me. I figured Nana had only one plan—a mind erase. “Um, yeah. You know Kat. We’ve been best friends since we were kids. Of course I trust her.”

“With your life?”

My eyes go to Kat, who’s looking right back at me. I have no clue what’s going on, but the answer comes easily. “Yes.”

Nana nods. “After you’re done tending to Joseph, come back down. Oh, and feel free to get him up to speed when he wakes up.”

“Sure . . .” It’s weird that she’s okay with telling him, but I decide not to question it. Maybe she wants to pacify him until we decide what to do with him.

I float my father up to the spare bedroom next to my mother’s old room. I almost put him in hers, but it seems like too much. I have a hard time walking by the door, let alone going inside. It’s still the same as it was when she died: the bed unmade, her coat on the desk chair, a stack of yellowed papers waiting for words. One of the dresser drawers is ajar, a nightgown sticking out. We can’t bring ourselves to clean it, as if it’ll erase the last piece of her we have.

Once I get him out of the muddiest stuff and in bed, I wipe the blood from his eyes. Then I spend far too much time staring at him. I have his ears and his stubby fingernails. He snores lightly, like I always imagined dads doing.

He has to stay.

My stomach sinks when I realize he could have another family. I grab his left hand. No wedding band. Not that it means much—he could be divorced or he could have a girlfriend. I could have half siblings . . . a whole family that has no idea I exist, that will never know I exist. Shaking myself out of it, I stand. He’ll be asleep for a while, and Nana and Kat are waiting for me. When I get back to the apothecary, I sit next to Kat and wait for Nana to explain.

“Your friend is . . . worthy,” Nana says.

“Okay?” I glance at Kat, who doesn’t seem as scared as she was at first. In fact, there’s a hint of excitement in her eyes. “And what does worthy mean?”

“It could mean many things, my child.” She pulls out a heavy spell book, and that alone sets me on alert. Nana never has to use the book, which means whatever spell she has in mind is not something we do every day. Hell, every decade. “But for now, it means she’s allowed to keep her memories, so long as she goes through a binding spell.”

My eyes go wide. “Binding?”

“It’s rather simple. If she reveals our secret, she dies.”

“Nana, that’s way too harsh.”

Kat shakes her head. “I’d never tell, so it’s not a big deal. Better than forgetting this. I can’t believe I never suspected anything. It’s so obvious now.”

I sigh. “Kat, this will hurt. You get that, right? Magic isn’t fluffy—there will be a sacrifice much worse than if you forgot.”

“I know,” she says. “A fingernail.”

I shudder at the thought. “Why would you do that just to know?”

“Jo.” Her look is flat. “You’ve always been the funny one. Gwen’s always been the fun one. And I’m the peanut gallery.”


“No! You’re the voice of reason! Gwen and I would tear each other apart without you.”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I want to be a part of this. Haven’t you ever wanted someone to talk to? How did you go so many years without this secret killing you?”

My throat tightens. “I . . . I had Nana to talk to.”

“Seems lonely to me.”

This ache forms in my heart, in the place my mother left gaping and bleeding. Loneliness is part of my life. It always will be in one way or another. And yet I can’t help but love Kat for thinking of me, for wanting to take care of me.

“I want to do this,” she says firmly. “You can’t change my mind.”

I nod, too sad to do anything else.