you’ve done
as I asked, then you have now ignited the spark. It wasn’t pleasant, and I’m
sorry. I nearly bit my tongue clean off when I went through it. Hopefully your
experience was better. In the off chance that you did bite your tongue off, I
have a great spell for reattaching it in my spell book. Page 347.
Harper glared at
the paper, was this supposed to be some sort of joke?
The spell book is
in the bag and it contains everything you’ll ever need to know from our rich
family history to any spell, charm, or enchantment you could ever hope to cast,
will be in there. Each generation eventually adds a few of their own, and I
know in time you will be able to add to the book as well.
I love you
darling. Please remember that this is the greatest gift on earth, and not the
curse that it may feel like right now.
Harper stared at
the paper, flipping it over to see if something else had been written on the
back. “That’s it?” she demanded with a grimace. “I still don’t understand!” she
shouted.
Mr. Bell, who had
been reading over her shoulder, put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You
will probably understand more when you go through the book,” he suggested, and
Harper began to feel anger burn in her belly. Was she really supposed to
believe that she was a witch based on one crazed letter from beyond the grave?
It seemed like the thing everyone wanted her to believe, and there had been
that weird electrical shock earlier... but, it couldn’t be true. Her fingers
tightened on the paper as she thought back over what her gran had written. It
appeared that her gran had known about this and had kept it from her on
purpose…
“Whoa!” Mr. Bell
shouted suddenly, making Harper glance up at him in surprise. He was staring at
the paper in her hands. Harper realized quickly, when it burnt her finger, that
it was on fire.
“Holy shit!”
Harper yelped as she dropped the paper and jumped back. Mr. Bell swept the
paper to the floor with his palm and then viciously stomped it out. He picked
the paper up and held it out to her when he was done. It wasn’t burnt too
terribly, most of Gran’s writing was still legible, just singed around the
edges.
“Did that thing
just self-destruct?” Harper squeaked, refusing to take it. Mr. Bell held it up
to his nose and took a couple deep sniffs.
“I don’t think it
was spelled to destroy itself… I think you got angry and lit it on fire,” he suggested
in an even tone, and Harpers eyebrows rose up towards her hair.
“You think I did
that?” she asked incredulously, and Mr. Bell nodded almost apologetically.
Harper shook her head in denial.
“I couldn’t have…”
she said, though a small nagging voice in her head also accused her. She had
felt a surge of power that had come with the anger.
“I think we should
be careful until we know more,” Mr. Bell suggested diplomatically, and Harper
latched onto that idea and nodded in agreement.
A huge thump made
Harper jump about a foot in the air just as she was reaching for the spell book.
She snatched her hand back and clung, instead, to Mr. Bell. The buff lawyer
didn’t jump, but his head did whip around, and both of their eyes landed on the
floor as they pinpointed the source of the noise.
The basement. “I
have a possum down there,” Harper said glumly, finally remembering that she had
to do something about it eventually. She stared at Mr. Bell hopefully—he was a
big, strapping man who looked more than capable of putting a hit out on a
possum…
Mr. Bell’s
nostrils flared, and his face darkened with fury. “That isn’t a possum,” he
roared as he took off. He pulled so hard that the entire basement door came off
in his hand. The polite lawyer was nowhere to be seen; he didn’t even apologize
as he flung the door across the room and took off into the darkness, four steps
at a time. Harper swallowed visibly, pausing to grab her bat from beside the
couch and flip on the basement lights before she
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley