“Mind your own business,” she answered back.
“God, I forgot how annoying you were.”
“Too bad I didn’t forget what an ass you were,” she answered.
“You two,” Gigi croaked, and though her voice was tired it still held all the command it had when they’d fought during their childhood.
“Sorry,” they chorused.
“I told you there were things you needed to know,” Gigi said as soon as the door closed behind Sadie’s best friend. “And now’s the time. I’ve got a story to tell, and you’re not going to like it and you’re not going to like how it ends. But this is the way of things, and I’ve kept it in order for as long as I can, but it’s time to know the truth. Matters need settling.”
“Well, how’s that for fucking ominous,” Seth said, blowing out a sharp breath.
“Shut up and let her tell the story,” Sadie said.
“It starts with your mother. Of all my kids, I know I’ve never talked much about her. Raising five children, it’s—well, you do the best you can. But there are some things you need to know. Just remember, I did the best I could. And I didn’t know—but then again, I’m getting ahead of myself. Your mother—boy, she was wild as a March hare from the moment she could walk and talk. The older she got, the worse it got. I swear that girl didn’t have a brain in her head sometimes. Florence—your mother—she was the middle child, the wild one. And then your Aunt Tava, she was …”
“The unhinged one?” Seth chimed in.
“Quirky,” Sadie corrected him. “I miss her.”
“She was the oldest,” Gigi continued. “So, she got to figure out who she was without anyone telling her who she should be. And then Kay—hoo boy—my second born. It’s been years and years since you kids have seen her.”
“I remember covering my ears a lot when she would visit,” Seth said.
“She never did know how to talk quietly,” Gigi said with amusement. “She’s the dramatic one. Her magic was always unstable, too volatile. Your Aunt Anne, the second youngest, she was always a little nervous Nellie. She was sick when she was young. I think I coddled her too much, and it stuck with her. And then the baby, your Uncle Brian. The genius Mr. Know-It-All.
“For each of them, their magic was different. They all took to it in different ways. But Florence, she was a firecracker, all right. It wasn’t until she turned eight that I realized she was an amplifier, a conduit.”
“A what?” Seth asked at the same time Sadie breathed, “Oh.”
“An amplifier. You remember, sugar?” Gigi asked Sadie, who nodded numbly.
“I forgot my witch dictionary, so what the hell does that mean?” Seth demanded.
“Every hundred years or so in every magical family there’s a sort of prodigy born. Their magic is stronger, amplified, more unpredictable, and it swells until it spills over.”
“Okay? So? Our mom was what, like a super witch?”
“Stop saying ‘witch,’” Sadie said. “We’re not witches. We use symbolism and the power of the earth, that’s all. Magic doesn’t mean witches.”
“Potato, potahto.” Seth rolled his eyes. “What does it mean, then?”
“It means they act as a conduit to amplify another person’s magic. And it sends out a kind of signal.”
“Bat signal?” Seth asked.
“Can you be serious for five seconds?” Sadie demanded, annoyed.
“A signal,” Gigi interrupted them, “that those who would want to use someone like that for their own, usually dark ends can take advantage of. Instead of living in fear, your mother was fearless, and anybody who came for her be damned. She tried to use her magic out. By the time she was a teenager, she trailed sparks behind her wherever she went. Started fires without meaning to. Anyway,” Gigi went on, “she moved out as soon as she turned eighteen, tried to leave all that magic behind her. Much like somebody else we know.” She gave Seth a sharp look. “It didn’t work. It never works.” She sighed, shaking her head and pulling a blanket over her lap as if to keep out the chill of old memories. “People loved your mother. Even if she was hard and cruel, and especially when she was convincing you to do something you shouldn’t. Men fell in love with her after a single glance, and she couldn’t shake them. Well, I knew the second she brought Julian home that he was bad news. See, he had the magic in him, but it was bad magic. Dark, let me tell you. He was a seeker, alright. The bastard. He wanted to use your mother as a conduit.”
“I don’t get it. What could he do? Wave a magic wand and steal her, like, essence or magic, or what?” Seth asked.
“It doesn’t work like that.” Sadie’s sigh was exasperated.
“Hush now,” Gigi told them both. “He lured her in. Your momma, she was enchanted. At first by his charm and promises. He told her he could get rid of her magic. They performed a dark ritual together, but it wasn’t to rid her of her magic. It was to make her fertile.”
“What?” the twins demanded at once.
“That took an unexpected turn,” Seth added drily.
“Most times, the amplifier’s curse, it’s to never be able to bear children. That’s one of the reasons they’re so incredibly rare.”
“So, wait—we weren’t even supposed to be born?” Seth’s voice was incredulous, and Sadie couldn’t blame him this time. This was news to her.
“How?” was all Sadie said.
“I don’t know the details. But I knew it was dark magic. And I knew that nature would try to stop you both from coming into this world. Too much power. Too unpredictable. Now, to save a life takes a life, and I took Julian’s. Only, I didn’t know there were two of you. And by the time we found out, it was too late. No sacrifice would have been enough.”
There was a beat of silence. It seemed to press in on them. Like the walls were leaning, aching to hear the secrets that hadn’t been spoken about in decades. Time seemed to trickle through the hourglass. The grandfather clock ticked louder. Sadie wanted to scream. Or laugh. Or both. She wasn’t quite sure.
“Slow down,” Seth said, extending his hand. “Let’s back up here a second and focus on the ‘taking a life’ thing. Are you saying you killed this Julian guy? Our father?”
Gigi nodded. Just like that.
“She came home.” Gigi sighed. “Tried to leave him. Told him he was never going to see her again. And even though I threatened him, he stuck around. And then, when I was gone one day, he forced himself on your mother, the jackass. I didn’t know until later, of course, when she started showing. Not that that’s an excuse. I should’ve known. I should’ve …” She cleared her throat, her hand frantically picking at an invisible thread in her sweater. “I was about to get the shotgun and shoot his fucking balls off. I wanted to shoot his heart right out of his chest. But even though I may be dumb, I wasn’t that stupid.
“She was a mess. He’d beaten her everywhere the babies weren’t. You were too precious. Too important to his plan. The only ritual I knew to save life, required life. Balance. And …’” Gigi paused and cleared her throat. “Well. He ended up being the sacrifice.”
Sadie was too shocked to say anything at all. Gigi just sat there like nothing at all had happened. Like she hadn’t just admitted to murdering a man. Their father.
“For one of you, at least. For the other, I cast magic to ensure you lived, tied the darkness to me to make sure you could have your light. But it’s never been enough. Life demands life. Where do you think this cancer came from?”
Both of them sat there a moment. Silent. The bile rose in Sadie’s throat until the acid threatened to come up.
“It’s our fault.” Sadie’s words came out fast, before she’d fully formed them in her head. She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement.