Mom.” Hunter breathed and flipped over the first card.
Nineteen
Hunter studied the card she’d turned over. “Huh, that’s interesting. Not where I would guess we’d start, but the cards don’t lie.” On it was an illustration of a wide river, muddy with rich, brown silt framed by lush green banks. The vibrant colors stood out next to the moonshine silver of the backs of the rest of the deck like a Waterhouse painting hanging in the middle of a Jackson Pollock exhibit.
Mercy squinted at the card, trying to figure out what was wrong with the logs that bobbed in clumps in the river. “Um, H, what tree does that mean?”
“Easy. The hippo-filled river is the Nile, which means we need to start at the Egyptian tree, of course.”
“Oh, yeah, of course.”
Hunter raised a brow at her sister.
Mercy lifted her hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean anything except that I’m glad you’re the Cosmic Witch ’cause I’m hopeless at tarot.” She looked over her shoulder at the big clock in the foyer. “So, it’s just a little after three thirty. I’m pretty sure I can cut and carve a stang and, with your help, get all the stuff we need for the spells together by dusk.”
From the stairway they heard a long, drawn-out yawn. Xena turned the corner into the kitchen area as she stretched and yawned again. She was still wearing their mom’s fluffy bathrobe. Her hair stood out around her face like the mane of an electrocuted lion.
“Good morning, kittens,” she said between yawns.
“Xena, it’s afternoon,” said Mercy.
Xena shrugged as she headed to the fridge. “That’s human time. In cat time it’s morning whenever we awaken. Hunter, love, did you get me more of that extra-thick cream and delectable tuna?”
“Yeah. Cream’s in the fridge. Tuna’s in the pantry.”
Xena’s head swiveled around and her eyes skewered Hunter’s. “You remembered to get me albacore, didn’t you? You know I won’t eat common tuna.”
“Xena, we all know that. You’re the only carnivore living in a house of vegetarian witches,” Mercy said, then went on, as she continued to list what she and her sister would need to collect for the tree spell.
Xena sighed as she made her way languidly to the pantry and began pawing—literally—through the canned goods. “Yes, I am aware of your strange dietary predilections. It is the only thing my Abigail and I ever crossed words about. Ah! Here it is! Delicious albacore.” She carried the can to Hunter and plopped it down in front of her. “Do be a dear and open it for me.”
“How about I show you how to open it yourself. It’s really easy.” Hunter stood and started for the electric can opener that sat in the corner of the kitchen counter between the coffee maker and the blender.
“Oh, no, thank you, kitten. I loathe electric appliances. What if I broke a nail?” Xena batted a hand at Hunter dismissively while she peered down at the cards. Her gaze shifted from the one face-up. “Oh, excellent! You’ve decided on a spell and you’ll be beginning at the Egyptian tree.”
Mercy glanced up at her. “Am I the only one confused by tarot?”
“Yes!” Xena and Hunter said together.
Xena slid onto the bench seat and licked the back of her hands, then smoothed them through her crazy hair as she leaned into Mercy and read her notes. “A stang! That’s a rather good idea. Very powerful in the hands of the right witch.”
Mercy paused in her list making. “Am I the right witch?”
“Of course, kitten.” Xena licked the back of her hand again and tried to smooth a strand of Mercy’s hair.
Mercy backed out of her reach. “Xena, it’s not cool when you do that.”
“I’m just trying to help you look your best. You’re rather disheveled.” Xena hesitated and sniffed in Mercy’s direction. Her yellow eyes widened. “Mercy Anne Goode, you smell like—”
“Nothing that’s your business!” Mercy said quickly, super grateful that the whirring of the can opener kept her sister from hearing their exchange. She gathered her sticky notes so that when Hunter turned with the open can of tuna Mercy held them out to her. “Could you gather these things for me while I cut the stang? Then we’ll meet in my greenhouse and put everything together.”
“Sure, Mag,” Hunter said, and took the open can of tuna to Xena.
“You do not think I’m going to eat from a can, do you, Hunter? Your mother is no longer with us, but we have not yet deteriorated into barbarism.”
This