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"Three ground leaves of Mitu Parim, some dirt from the Oasis graves, and finally..." I grimaced as I pressed a knife into my palm. To distract myself from the pain, I looked around my lair. The brownish stone walls reminded me of the gingerbread house my grandfather made at Christmas. What a strange thing to remember at this time.
Gimlet-eyed, Viessa watched my blood trickling into the copper chalice and seeping into the mix of herbs, powders, and dirt. "If you’re creating a new spell, why do you have to make it so painful?"
"The ritual has to match the complexity of the spell," I explained.
"Hmm." She sank in thought. "What’s it for anyway?"
"I-I’m not sure," I said as I glanced at the ingredients list on the counter. For the life of me, I couldn’t tell what spell I was creating.
Viessa forgot about her question before I did. Her thoughtful expression faded into a bright smile as she grabbed the spoon to blend the ingredients. "Now we make a paste."
"Yes." I whispered a spell to stop the bleeding before grabbing a small stone from the drawer. "We’ll use the paste to draw the sigil on this stone to make a portable altar," I said. "I learned this from your mother."
"Mom is the best." Viessa continued to stir, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the bloody mixture.
She is so innocent, so happy. Looking at her gave me a smile.
My phone vibrated on the counter. It was a text from Heidi: Turn on the news. I headed to the living room, where Doyle watched the TV.
Due to an unidentified gas leak, the residents of Shady Mews are forced to evacuate the town. Police forces, led by lieutenant Heidi Morton, are coordinating the evacuation procedure. Around five thousand citizens are fleeing the noxious gas, causing a traffic jam on the highway.
"What’s happening?" I gaped at the screen. Before my thoughts drifted away, the phone rang.
"I can’t believe you talked me into this," Heidi’s voice came from the other side of the call. "Make sure your grandfather’s firm has a place for me. When the truth comes out, I’ll definitely lose my job."
"What are you talking about, Heidi?"
"What do you think, smart ass? I’m talking about your plan. Faking a gas leak to evacuate Shady Mews before the rising? We may have scared everyone, but at least they’ll be safe. I hate to say this, Echo, but you did a good job."
"What’s that about?" I turned to Doyle, who smiled and winked at me, then I forgot about Heidi’s call.
***
The smell of freshly baked cookies brought me to the kitchen. Tara peeked into the oven before she closed it and wiped the sweat off her forehead with a towel.
I put my hands together. "Cinnamon cookies. My favorite."
"We made enough for everyone," Tara said.
"You guys are the best." I put up my two thumbs.
"Me and the missus, adding flavor to your life," Jackson said, tilting his chef hat.
"Enough with the taglines." Tara hit him with the oven mitts.
On the table sat a bowl of uncooked dough. I dipped my finger to taste it, then it was my turn to be hit with the mitts.
"Ouch." I backed away.
"Wait five minutes. The first patch will be ready," Tara scolded me.
"But I like dough," I whined.
"Get out of my kitchen." She huffed and pointed at the door, and when I laughed, she hit me again.
Later that day, I stood on the front porch with Lillian in my arms. I kissed her on the cheek and handed her over to her mother.
"I hate you for making me do this," Tara said. "I should be with you tomorrow."
"We talked about this, Tara. I need you to be safe."
Oscar barked as Doyle motioned him out of the house while Jackson carried the cats’ crates to his car.
"Take care of them," I told him.
"Sure you don’t want me to stay? Fight a good fight?"
"Nah, tomorrow is for witches, spirits, and Doyle," I grinned. "Now, hurry up, or you’ll miss your plane. Say hi to Mayan for me."
Two days before the eclipse, I booked a flight for my family and Doyle’s parents to Italy. Gerald Sullivan, Cona’s cousin, promised to protect them if things went bad.
Tara got in the car and waved at us from the window. As I watched her drive away, fear settled in my heart.
"We made the right decision," Doyle said, pulling me into a hug.
"I know." I just hope this isn’t goodbye.
***
The following morning, Doyle and I teleported to the Miles’ house, and I was surprised when Kirby opened the door.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"What do you mean? We came over last night."
"We?"
"Come in," he said. "I’ll introduce you to everyone."
From the dining room, a mix of fragrances emanated. Viessa, Vanna, and five other people were sitting around the table, assembling the ingredients for the potion capsules.
"Doyle." Viessa jumped up when she saw him. "Meet our new friends: Joshua, Sara, Ahmed, Mindy, and Cassandra."
"You must be Ms. Blackwood." The youngest of the five stood to greet me. She was a teenage girl wearing a hoodie and glasses. "My name is Cassandra Winbolt. I read your post on the Magic Web, and I’m glad to help."
"My post?" My voice wavered. I don’t remember writing any posts. Is Jivar messing with my head again?
"It’s all right, Echo." Doyle winked at me, and everything became okay.
***
Three nights before the rising, Jivar appeared in my dream and commanded me to perform his ritual. I woke up thinking it was game over, but being a witch was a lot like being a lawyer. Sometimes, I had to look for a loophole.
In the middle of the night, I dragged Doyle to the living room. The full moon glow peeked upon us from the window. He sat on the couch, half-asleep, while I paced and mumbled. "I have something to tell you, but only you can know it. I can’t know it; otherwise, he’ll know it, and it won’t work."
He yawned. "Wha-at?"
"Ugh." I stomped my foot on the floor. "Doyle. You love me, don’t you?"
"I do."
"Then read my mind," I cried out. "Listen to my unspoken words. Finish my sentences."
"Echo, I think you need some sleep." He wiped his eyes.
"That’s the problem. It all happened when I fell asleep."
"All right, all right." He pressed on his temples, seemingly to overcome the waking-up headache. "Tell me what happened when you fell asleep."
"I can’t say."
"You can’t or you won’t?" he asked.
"I can’t," I said with a frown. "Can’t, can’t, can’t."
"Are you embarrassed to tell me?"
"No." I folded my arms. "It’s not like that."
Doyle narrowed his eyes. "Then are we talking about a spell that prevents you from telling me?"
I mouthed the word ‘yes,’ but no voice came out. "I can’t say."
"I’ll assume it is." He paused. "Echo, did Jivar contact you during your sleep?"
I tried to nod, but that too was forbidden. "I can’t say."
"I’ll assume he did," said Doyle. "If I were Jivar and I got a hold of you right before the rising, I would use the Magic of Minds and compel you to either admit your plans or lose on purpose. Is this what happened?"
Thank God he’s so smart. I collapsed into a chair. I wanted to tell Doyle about my grimoire and how Jivar needed me to do his ritual, but I had to settle for his conclusions. At least we were on the same track. "I can’t say."
"In this case, we’ll need a new plan."
"I have one," I cheered, glad to be able to speak. "But no one can know about it except you and Ebba."
"Because we are immune to the Magic of Minds?"
"Yes."
"I see." He nodded. "But how can I make sure that you’re not compelled to tell me all this and that your new plan isn’t a trap?"
"I haven’t considered this." I let my head hang back. "How about I drink a truth potion?"
"Sounds good," he said. "I’ll ask Viessa to brew some in the morning. Now, one problem remains. Once you go to bed, Jivar will get in your head again, and we can’t keep you awake until the rising."
"We won’t have to." I raised a finger. "Not if I use magic to erase my memory."
When Jivar told me the truth about my powers, I hated how we were connected, then I realized it was my loophole. Whatever magic Jivar acquired, I could borrow, including the Magic of Minds. If someone was going to play in my head, it’d better be me.
***
"I read your post on the Magic Web, and I’m glad to help," Cassandra greeted me politely.
"My post?" It felt like I was lost in a maze.
"It’s all right, Echo," Doyle shot me a wink, switching off my memory spell. That was the deal. Whenever he winked at me, I’d regain my memory long enough to make a decision or finish a task.
The memories rushed into my mind. Kirby and I were talking on the roof, and after he left, I logged on to the Magic Web and used Cona’s account to post a message:
“To all the witches in the world, I’m Echo Blackwood, and I’m reaching out to you. Months ago, I learned I’m chosen for a mission bigger than myself. The Magic Board declared war on me, and instead of fighting on the same side, we fought each other. They’ll never accept a Blackwood as a hero, but I’m no longer trying to be one.
A wise friend told me the world doesn’t need a hero. It needs dedicated people willing to share their powers and make the world a better place for everyone. As witches, we are meant to be guardians, leaders, and healers, and unless we work together, we’ll never be able to fulfill that purpose.”
I ended the message by informing everyone of Jivar’s rising and asking them to join the battle. That post went viral, and I got hundreds of hate comments. Nevertheless, my voice reached those who cared.
"I called my cousins. They should be here tomorrow," Cassandra said. "Though we’re not noble, our collective magic is powerful."
I thought about the wording of Lú’s prophecy: The chosen shall lead her army into war. As I glanced over the fervent faces in the room, hope strengthened my heart. Vanna, Kirby, Viessa, Doyle, Cassandra, and the witches—that was my army. Together, we had a chance of winning the war.
***
I left the room when I heard yelling. In the hallway, Doyle stood facing his father. Rose’s gaze flitted between the two. She had rubber gloves and was holding an unrinsed plate in her hands. She must have hurried out of the kitchen when she heard them fighting.
"What’s going on?" I asked. "Mr. Miles, Rose, you’re supposed to be in Italy."
"Echo, can you teleport those too out of town?" Doyle turned to me, his jaws all stiffened and his face flushed.
"Don’t you hear what I’m saying, son?" Zachery shouted. "We’re not leaving. This is our home. We have the right to defend it."
"I’ve already explained why you can’t." Doyle balled his hands. "You’re not meant to fight witches and beasts."
"Neither are you," Zachery said. "If you’re going to fight, we will."
"Yeah, I’m not leaving, Doyle," Rose cried out. "I just found you, and I’m not leaving you behind in the middle of—"
"Stop it." Doyle exploded. "If you stay, you’ll be a hindrance to everyone."
"We’re staying." Zachery thrust his chest out.
"Our mind is made up," Rose added.
The two failed to hear Doyle’s unspoken words. But seeing the uneasiness on his face, I understood his biggest fear. If something was to happen to these two, it would kill him.
"No, you won’t." I interrupted. "I am not going to allow civilians in this. That’s why we evacuated the town. If you don’t leave on your own, I'll use magic to force you."
"You can’t do this," Rose gave me a scornful glare. "We have the right to choose."
"Not today, no," I spoke unapologetically. "Until the eclipse is over, I make the decisions. You have thirty minutes to pack, and then I’ll teleport you to the nearest airport where you’ll take a plane to Italy." I couldn’t risk teleporting them any farther and depleting my magic.
Shaken and clearly annoyed, Zachery and Rose stiffened. I was afraid they’d hate me forever, but I had to be tough to protect them. Doyle’s nod reassured me I was doing the right thing.
The doorbell broke off the tension. "I’ll get it," I said as I swaggered away.
Outside awaited a familiar face. The tanned skin, the dark hair, and the eyes that resembled mine—not much did the years change. Instead of her old overalls, she wore a cardigan and jeans. And instead of a long braid, her hair was chopped to chin-length.
"Grandma." I seized her in my arms. "I knew you’d come."
Ebba tittered. "You look so surprised. I told you I was coming when you called."
"I called?" The memory wiggled its way into my consciousness. "Oh, I called."
"You said you have a plan."
"I do, I do," I said. "Doyle will fill you in. Did you have any problems getting here?"
"I called Heidi as you told me," she replied.
"Good, good." I didn’t remember any of that.
"Mom?" Viessa emerged from behind. "Why did you come? It’s not safe here." She turned to me with a concerned look. "She is not a witch anymore. Tell her to go home."
"It’s okay, Viessa," Ebba said. "Echo fixed the amulet for me."
"That’s true." The memory surprised me. Bug-eyed, I searched for the amulet in my pockets. I used the Magic of Recreation to restore the power of this amulet, and since nature must balance itself, the amulet with Jivar is now useless. Good move, Echo.
"I still don’t want you to do this, Mom."
"Viessa, can we sit down for this? I traveled a long way."
"Yes, but—"
"I’m tired, Viessa. Show me where I can rest."
"Fine." Viessa frowned and walked away. "I’ll show you to the guest room, but first, you have to pay your respect to the Miles who welcomed us into their home."
"That’s my girl." Ebba followed her along the hallway.
***
Over the following hours, more witches arrived at the Miles’ house. A few of them came from Oracles Island, but most were foreign. By the rising day, we had twenty witches gathering in the backyard.
Who are these people? I peeked at them through the kitchen window. On the table, I had set a brass bowl full of herbs and feathers, but I didn’t remember why.
"Did I tell you I’m proud of you?" Ebba startled me when she entered the kitchen. "I love that you reached out to other witches for help."
"Grandma?" I asked, gawking before running to hug her. "I knew you’d come."
"It’s the memory spell again," she said with a giggle.
"Memory spell?"
She patted me on the back sympathetically. "I’ll go get Doyle."
As soon as Ebba left the kitchen, I forgot about her ever coming. That memory wouldn’t return until a few days after the rising. Without a care in the world, I sat at the table, humming and swaying my head. What’s this? I gazed at my brass bowl, grimacing when I sniffed the smell of burned rice.
Tara once asked me, "What would you change if you went back in time?" Though I know better than to mess with the past, if there was one thing I’d change, it’d be that moment in the kitchen with Ebba. I’d switch off the memory spell before she came in, and I’d be conscious of what she had to say. "Did I tell you I’m proud of you? I love that you reached out to other witches for help."
"I learned this from you, Grandma," I’d reply, pulling her in my arms one more time before we parted.
A few minutes later, Ebba returned to the kitchen with Doyle, and I turned off the memory spell for good.
"It’s time," Doyle said, extending his hand with the amulet. Ebba clutched her cardigan, overwhelmed by fleeting hesitation.
"It’s okay if you don’t want to do this," I told her.
"I have to," she said, forcing a smile. "I started all this. I should be there when it ends."
"If you are sure about this, let’s begin," I said. The two of us sat at the kitchen table. I circled my hand above the brass bowl, and the ingredients burst into flames. Like precious emeralds, Ebba’s eyes glinted in the firelight. Her hands shuddered as I held them and chanted: "Lude oculum. Lude mentem." Trick the eyes. Fool the minds.
***
In front of the Miles’ house, Doyle, Ebba, and I waited, but the asphalt showed the shadows of two people. Although it was mid-morning, the temperature plummeted, and the soon-to-disappear sun gave the colors of twilight.
Silence prevailed in the empty neighborhood. I could hear Ebba’s shallow breaths and Doyle cracking his knuckles.
From a distance, the silhouette of a man strode towards us. My chest grew tense as he approached.
It can’t be.
"Zaros," Doyle uttered in a resentful tone.
"Long time no see, Doyle." Zaros drew a wicked grin. "Last time we met, we were in Sattarum on a quest. What happened to you?"
The change in time had brought a new Zaros to life, one that gave Jivar his loyalty and held fewer grudges towards Doyle. Of course, Doyle had no memory of that version of Zaros, so he seemed confused by his words.
That Zaros standing in front of me might not have been the one I fought, but he was still the one who murdered my parents. Around his neck, my mother’s amulet dangled. He probably realized it had lost its power.
"The eclipse is about to begin," Zaros told Ebba. "You can teleport, can’t you?"
She nodded nervously.
"What are you waiting for, then?" he asked.
Ebba swallowed. I waited for her to wave her hand before I teleported everyone to the Lone Mountain.
