idea to let Zoë lead our introduction with words, rather than to blindside Eliza Carver with my pendant.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Zoë whispers to me.
“No, it wasn’t. You need this. We have to do this,” I whisper back. Footsteps shuffle across the wooden floor heading toward us. Zoë turns to walk away, but I grab her arm and stop her. “Hello ladies. What can I help you with today?”
A tall, thin woman with perfectly faultless, dark honey skin stands behind the counter smiling the same broad smile that Zoë always shares. I am taken aback by their resemblance. I squeeze Zoë’s arm and encourage her to turn back around. “We're looking for a woman named Eliza Carver,” I say. “And I think it’s a pretty safe bet to assume that’s you.”
“And why do you assume that?” she asks with a quizzical expression on her face.
Zoë turns around, and slowly walks closer to the counter, into an area with better lighting. “Because you look exactly like me.”
The smile falls from the woman’s face. “Zoë?”
Zoë is taken aback by Eliza's ability to identify her. “You know who I am?”
“I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl.”
“So we’ve met before?”
“We actually lived together for the first three years of your life,” she says with a breathy laugh and a shake of her head.
“I don’t remember you. I’m sorry.”
“You wouldn’t. They made sure to erase all memories of me from your mind.”
“They? You mean my parents?”
Eliza hesitates for a moment, looking down at her hands where they rest on the counter. “I mean our parents. I’m your sister.”
“My what?”
“I guess they never told you about me.” She turns and looks at me. “You must be Emma.”
I smile uncomfortably, wishing, praying, and hoping that Zoë’s suspicions are not true.
“Well, I would ask why you’re here but I most likely already know.”
“I need to contact my mother… our mother. I can’t do it by any traditional means of communication. I found your name and address in a book. I was hoping you could help me with a communication spell. I’ve never performed a spell before, and I need this to work right.”
“You’ve never performed a spell before? But you’re…”
“Seventeen.”
“When did you come into your powers?”
Zoë hesitates before uncomfortably saying, “I don’t know. I don't think I have yet. I never knew any of this existed until yesterday. I learned everything from Emma’s father. I haven’t been able to ask, why… why I was kept in the dark…”
“Looks to me like you already know why.”
She shoots a narrow, telling glance my way, which I immediately take offense to. My brow furrows tightly and I glare back at her. Words in defense of my best friend, our relationship, and the reason for her existence bubble up to my surface.
“When did you do your first spell?” Zoë asks.
“I was nine. A boy at school was bullying me. I taught myself a binding spell. It worked.”
“So you knew what you were?”
“I did. Grandmother taught me a lot along the way.”
“Grandmother? Hattie?”
“Yes. I suppose you never met her. She died before you were born.”
“I’ve heard a lot about her… recently.”
Eliza chuckles. “Ah, you have the journals. And I’m guessing the pendant too.” She briefly glares at me, making me feel incredibly uncomfortable.
“You know about the journals and the pendant?” I ask.
She smiles at me. “Why don’t you both follow me?”
We follow Eliza into the back room of the store. The room is dark, lit only by candles and a single beam of sunlight seeping through the heavy, purple velvet drapes. Incense burns on a small table across the room. A small yet sturdy round, wooden table with four chairs around it is positioned in the center of the room. “Have a seat,” Eliza instructs us.
She motions toward the table. We sit in chairs next to each other. I slide the backpack onto my lap. Eliza moves around the room collecting various herbs and oils, combining them all in the same mortar. She uses a pestle to crush the herbs and combine all of the ingredients before joining us at the table.
“This spell will be more effective if I can bind you to Emma and share her energy. She has a very powerful energy, to say the least.”
Eliza and I share a look before I turn to Zoë and nod.
“I’ll need both of your hands,” she orders.
Zoë places her right hand on the table, and I my left. Eliza stands and walks to a shelf where she grabs