Bewitched and Betrothed Page 24

  That done, I started intoning the charm, concentrating on Sitri and our upcoming meeting. I took my time, allowing myself to linger on the words, pondering their meaning, their heritage. These spells had been passed down through generations along a line of powerful women, and had finally landed here, with me.

  One last thing to do before retiring: I lit a red and yellow candle for Renna’s separation spell, circling it with her scarf. I spread out the tarot cards in as smooth an arc as I could, which didn’t come close to approximating the neat results of Renna’s practiced hand.

  I sighed.

  As with most things in life, spellcasting wasn’t as easy as it looked.

  * * *

  • • •

  The next morning I cleansed Aunt Cora’s Closet, cast my daily protection spell, and took advantage of the quiet and solitude to pick out five dresses for Maya, holding each in my arms to feel its vibrations. One—a sleeveless 1960s dress with a bright geometric pattern—would be perfect, but I would wait and see which one Maya felt best in after she tried them on.

  Then I called Eric, who told me that Renna had slept well and that, although she was still holed up in her room, she wasn’t shrieking like before and had even requested some chicken soup. He thanked me profusely and asked what I wanted for the handfasting. I suggested he bring his accordion and play for us. I couldn’t imagine better music for the celebration.

  As soon as I hung up, the phone rang again.

  It was Carlos. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”

  “Is everything all right? How’s Elena?”

  “She’s doing better. Still hasn’t been able to tell us anything helpful, though. Keeps repeating ‘co-op.’ Maybe she’s thinking of selling her condo?”

  “I don’t think—,” I began, but he cut me off.

  “Lily, it’s about your grandmother’s coven—”

  “What?” I demanded, fear surging through me. “Are they all right?”

  “They’re fine,” Carlos said, a note of humor in his voice. “But they need someone to post bail.”

  * * *

  • • •

  “Graciela, really? I can’t believe the thirteen of you,” I said as I led the group out of the jailhouse. At least my mother and Calypso had had the good sense to sit this one out. “As if I don’t have enough to deal with just now. You rented a boat and tried to land on Alcatraz?”

  “Who knew it was off-limits? It’s just sitting out there, undefended,” said Viv.

  “That’s true, Lily,” said Agatha.

  “Setting aside the fact that simple common sense would suggest it’s not a good idea to attempt a naval invasion of a national park,” I replied, “there are, like, twelve-foot-tall signs posted all around the island saying no one’s allowed to land there.”

  “Those signs are left over from when it was a prison,” said Graciela, not cowed in the slightest. “They don’t apply anymore.”

  The others nodded, as if that were perfectly obvious.

  “How did y’all even get there? Where’s the school bus?”

  “In Sausalito,” said Rosa. “We hired a very nice man to take us over in his boat. I do hope he doesn’t get into trouble.”

  “Was he arrested, too?”

  “Oh, no, we sent him away, before the feds nabbed us,” Betty said. “It wouldn’t do to have a stranger there. This was coven business.”

  “Then how were you planning on getting off the island?”

  The women looked at one another. “We hadn’t worked that part out yet,” Agatha volunteered.

  I shook my head and tried to calm down. At the corner where I had parked my Mustang, we found Conrad waiting with the shop van. A few minutes later, the Lyft that Conrad had ordered arrived. We spent the next fifteen minutes waiting while the coven decided who should ride with whom back to the school bus in Sausalito.

  “That’s enough!” I said as the coven bickered about who got to ride shotgun. “Graciela, Pepper, Caroline, and MariaGracia, you’re with me. Everyone else—take a seat or get left behind. We’re leaving.”

  Graciela, Pepper, Caroline, and MariaGracia joined me in the Mustang.

  “Now that it’s just us,” I said as I headed to the Golden Gate Bridge, “please, explain why you felt compelled to hire a boat to go to Alcatraz.”

  “Ghosts,” said Pepper.

  “It’s hardly surprising there would be ghosts on Alcatraz,” I said. “In fact I’d be surprised if there weren’t ghosts.”

  “Well, of course,” said MariaGracia.

  “That’s not the problem,” Pepper agreed.

  “So what is the problem?” I asked.

  “They’re highly agitated,” said Caroline. “I felt it last night with the pendulum.”

  “I’m not really a ghost gal.” I thought back to the image of Ray Perry in the attic, and again in the dungeon, and added: “Normally.”

  Caroline nodded. “Showing themselves to those who haven’t seen them before; they’re definitely agitated.”

  “How does that work, exactly?”

  “It takes a great deal of energy for them to manifest,” said MariaGracia. “It’s not a good sign.”

  “Also, all the birds have left,” said Pepper.

  “Is there . . . I was told there’s an ancient curse on the island. And the woods folk want me to sink it.”

  “Are you the one who’s been causing the earthquakes?” asked Caroline.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Those earthquakes lately,” said Caroline. “They’re unnatural.”

  “I feel like that, too,” I said. “But according to the locals it’s just something people in California live with.”

  “These aren’t normal quakes,” Caroline insisted. “They’re centered on Alcatraz.”

  “That’s why you were trying to get out to the island?”

  “Among other reasons,” said MariaGracia.

  “How are you planning to destroy Alcatraz, m’ija?” Graciela asked me.

  “I’m not. I can’t just go around sinking islands. Even if I had a clue as to how.”

  Graciela directed me to the Sausalito yacht harbor, where we found the school bus parked nearby. Our impromptu caravan came to a halt, and a coven’s worth of witches poured out of the vehicles. After doing a quick head count to make sure all were accounted for, I thanked Conrad and the Lyft driver, who left to return to the city.

  A grizzled elderly man wearing a captain’s hat and tending a nearby boat hailed the coven like an old friend, clearly their partner in crime.

  “Call me Captain Buddy,” he said, coming over to shake my hand.

  “I appreciate your kindness to my aunts, Captain Buddy,” I said. “But for future reference it’s actually against the law to land a boat on Alcatraz Island. You could have been arrested and charged with a federal offense.”

  “Well, now, that seems like a mighty silly law, if you ask me,” he replied.

  “It does, doesn’t it?” Caroline said.

  “I know a lot of boat pilots refuse to go out there,” said Captain Buddy. “But I do it all the time.”

  “We didn’t intend any harm,” MariaGracia said.

  “Be that as it may—,” I continued.

  “You’re mighty welcome, young lady,” Captain Buddy replied, beaming at Pepper, to whom he appeared to have taken a shine. “Always happy to help out lovely ladies in distress.”

  “But—”

  “Any good restaurants around here?” Graciela asked.

  “I’m starving. That jailhouse swill was awful,” Pepper said.

  “I could really go for some good Mexican food,” MariaGracia said.

  “Copita Tequileria has eighty-seven different kinds of tequila,” Captain Buddy said. “I’m partial to their fish tacos with pineapple pi
co de gallo. And it’s walkable; just up the street there.”

  “Eighty-seven different kinds of tequila?” Iris said, a reverential tone in her voice.

  “I surely could use a margarita,” Graciela said.

  “Well? What are we waiting for?” said Rosa. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Vámanos,” said Winona.

  I gave up. A shot of tequila might do me some good, after all.

  It took us nearly half an hour to walk the two blocks from the Sausalito yacht harbor to the restaurant. Downtown Sausalito’s main thoroughfare is chock-full of intriguing boutiques selling everything from antiques to souvenirs to dirty postcards to local artwork, and the women immediately scattered in thirteen different directions, exclaiming loudly over the cute items and the high prices. When everyone finally arrived we were seated at a large banquet table decorated with brightly colored paper flowers. The women spent another twenty minutes deciding what to order and bickering over which appetizers to share.

  “Oh, before I forget,” I said, “would the coven do some distance healing for a woman named Elena Romero? I have her hat in the car—it even has a strand of hair—and a photograph. She’s a friend of mine who went through a terrible trauma.”

  “Of course we can,” said Betty, squeezing my hand. “We’ll cast for strength.”

  “Thank you,” I said, downing my shot of tequila and biting into a slice of lime. Thus fortified, I said: “So listen, I need to tell you all what’s been going on and what I fear you might have been sensing about Alcatraz.”

  As we snacked on chips and guacamole and quesadillas, I filled them in on what had transpired so far, about Renee and the coincidentia oppositorum, and what I feared would happen on the full moon. By the time I finished, all thirteen were exchanging significant glances around the table.

  “Might as well tell her everything,” said Graciela, her tone grim.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Tell me.”

  Caroline took a deep breath: “My pendulum indicated a big earthquake, a devastating one. The Big One. And Alcatraz will be the only thing left intact.”

  “We’re gonna need another round of margaritas over here,” said Graciela, motioning to the waitress. “Everybody except Agatha, she’s our designated driver.”

  Chapter 23

  “Not that I doubt your abilities, Caroline, but couldn’t your pendulum have been wrong?” I asked.

  “Iris read the tea leaves, and Pepper triple-checked with her tarot, and MariaGracia consulted her crystal ball. All the indications are there.”

  Graciela set down her margarita. “We’re going to need Selena’s help.”

  “No. Absolutely not,” I replied. “Selena’s just a child.”

  “Es una bruja,” Graciela said simply. “She’s a witch, and she’s not much younger than you were when you went off on your own. She’s more capable than you know, Lily, especially in this sort of thing. She’s still searching for her footing in the regular world, but in the magical one, she’s well-grounded. You and Aidan have done a good job.”

  “I appreciate that, but that’s not the issue. There might well be real-world murderers out on that island,” I said, steeling myself against the nightmarish memory of Selena being held by the last homicidal maniac we went up against. “I don’t want Selena caught up in that.”

  “You’ll need her. It’s in the cards,” said Pepper. “Trust her, Lily.”

  “Also, you must reconnect with Sailor,” said Darlene. “He’ll need the strength of his connection to you on the astral plane.”

  “I’m . . .” I blushed to realize they knew Sailor and I weren’t getting along. “I hope I’ll see him tonight. We also have other magical allies as backup.”

  “Good,” said Nan. “You’ll need them all.”

  “Have y’all decided what kind of ceremony to perform on me?” I asked. “To reconcile my two guiding spirits?”

  “About that,” said Graciela. “We’ve decided it’s best to wait.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re going to need the fierceness of the newer one,” said Rosa. “She’ll give you an edge, by helping to fuse the astral and physical planes.”

  “Betty divined it yesterday, and we confirmed it last night when we drew down the moon,” said Caroline.

  “But—”

  “Look, Lily,” said Iris, coming over to my chair with a garland made out of brightly colored paper flowers that had once graced the table. “I’ve made a garland for you. So pretty!”

  “Um, thank you, Iris,” I said, dutifully putting it on.

  Darlene leaned over to me and whispered loudly: “Iris has no gift of sight, but her color magic is spot-on. That garland might come in useful.”

  “You honestly think Deliverance Corydon will be an asset?” I asked.

  Around the table, thirteen heads nodded. These were wisewomen, experienced in the natural and the supernatural. I would have to trust their assessment.

  “So to recap: I have to conjure the demon I told you about,” I said, “and try to wrest control away from Renee and Kyle, assuming they’re the ones who have called on him.”

  “Alcatraz was one point on a triangle of defense made up of Fort Point in San Francisco and Lime Point here in Marin,” said Viv. “Use that triangle power to piggyback on your Solomon’s Triangle.”

  The table seemed to tilt, and for a brief second I wondered whether that second shot of tequila had been one shot too many. But then I realized that this was yet another “little temblor,” as Bronwyn called them. Could Caroline be right, that the Big One was coming to San Francisco? If so, the death and destruction of the Festival of Felons wouldn’t be confined to the island of Alcatraz. The city of San Francisco, the entire Bay Area, would be devastated.

  “The only safe way to conjure is to ring the island with salt,” Winona was saying.

  “The entire island?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “It’s twenty-two acres,” I said. “I just don’t see how it’s possible. And part of it is inaccessible, it’s a bird sanctuary. . . .”

  “There are no birds there now,” Nan pointed out. “They’ve all flown away.”

  * * *

  • • •

  I returned to the Haight and spent the afternoon at Aunt Cora’s Closet with Maya and Bronwyn. I helped a mother and daughter to find coordinated outfits for a baby shower they were attending this weekend, and then had fun picking out dresses for a college student who was petite enough to fit into some of our smallest ensembles. I pressed and hung up some new inventory, replaced the herbal sachets I hung on the rods to keep the garments fresh, and then went through the receipts from the past week. All felt normal and easy, even a bit tedious.

  It was heaven.

  That evening I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror I had placed precisely opposite my apartment door to repel bad spirits. I still wore the bright paper flower garland Iris had given me, but otherwise I looked haggard. There were bags under my eyes, and I looked wan. No surprise there; I hadn’t slept well lately. There had been no more vivid nightmares, thank the goddess, but I was burdened with worry about Renee and Sailor and Elena and now the Big One that threatened to destroy all of San Francisco.

  What a mess. As they’d say back in Jarod: I got my ox in a ditch this time.

  And it was one heck of a ditch. All the more reason to get to work. I squared my shoulders, lifted my chin, and focused on completing the second day of the separation spell for Sailor’s aunt Renna.

  On this fourth night of the MoonWish spell, I put out a small pumpkin, cinnamon bark, three lemons, a coconut, and Goldschläger liqueur, then burned two sticks of precious Japanese agarwood incense. Tomorrow would be the final night of the spell—the blood sacrifice night—and after that was the full moon. And the Festival of Felons.

 
There was no way to avoid it any longer. I sat at my kitchen table, opened my old red-leather-bound Book of Shadows, and looked up: blood sacrifice.

  The list of popular sacrifices was long: a chicken, a dove, a pigeon, a quail—really any feathered creature. No vermin, since the death of a rat or a mouse wasn’t considered a sacrifice as such. Tell that to those who kept them as pets, I thought to myself. I read on: a bat, a squirrel, a dog or a cat; a sheep, a cow, a steer. Livestock was a big category.

  Back in the day, sacrificing a farm animal might mean your own family would face hunger. That was a true sacrifice. But in today’s day and age?

  Aidan said a blood sacrifice was necessary, Graciela and her coven said it was necessary, and my Book of Shadows said it was necessary.

  But . . . was it necessary?

  I was a modern witch. Could I update some of the traditional ways? Could magic modernize and change with the times, just like everything else?

  I cast an eye around my apartment, trying to imagine what would be hard to part with. The only valuable thing I owned—monetarily speaking—was the crystal ball Graciela had gifted to me when I left my hometown in Texas. The cloudy, gleaming crystal sat upon a base of gold filigree, encrusted with jewels.

  But the truth was, offering the crystal ball wouldn’t really be a sacrifice for me. I’d never learned how to “see” any visions with it and had often been tempted to throw it out the window when frustrated by my lack of success.

  A true sacrifice meant giving up something you loved.

  I didn’t have a lot of things I loved other than my friends, the Haight, my life in San Francisco. I loved Oscar and Sailor and Selena, Bronwyn and Maya and Conrad, my mother and Graciela. But I wasn’t about to give up any one of them. Not even for the promise of controlling a demon.