Enchantress (Witches Academy #8) - Tamara Ferguson Page 0,6

us some beautiful jewelry to sell. Here are some of her paintings on display on the walls. Danielle has already purchased a few, which she hung onto.”

Birch stared, motionless, checking the first of four paintings. He recognized the island right away. Instead of being cloaked in gray, the island was green and lush, appearing to be full of life.

And then there were the dragonflies.

“I’ll take them all,” Birch murmured, feeling hypnotized as recognition surged through his senses.

With definite humor in her voice, she answered, “Wouldn’t you like to know how much they are?”

“Nope. I don’t care.”

The woman laughed. “Well this has to be a new record for us. We’ve had these items on display for a total of thirty minutes.”

Birch grinned suddenly. “I’ll bring my truck around so we can load them up. I’m not in any hurry.”

“In that case, let me ring them up for you. I’ll send the keychain along from you, and maybe you could give me about thirty minutes to get everything packed?”

“Not a problem.”

* * *

A few hours later, Birch was wondering whether he’d lost his mind while he unpacked the artwork and lined each painting along the cabin wall, propping them above the couch.

No. They were meant for only him to understand, he realized, studying each one.

Four were scenic depictions of the island, while the other two were of colorful dragonflies both in flight and fluttering across a pool of water.

The house was in one, and was painted in beautiful jeweled tones of blues, purple and greens. It should have looked gaudy, but instead, it made Birch feel like he was home.

How could that be? He’d grown up with his grandparents in a small town in Massachusetts, but Birch realized that Crystal Rock had immediately drawn him in, unlike the town where he’d grown up and had never really felt like he belonged.

He wished he could understand what all if this meant. Unfortunately, he had nothing else to distract him right now, since he hadn’t been assigned to a new case.

Unless he wanted to consider the strange call he’d had yesterday and the dead guy on the island.

He took the keychain from his pocket once again, and much to his surprise, the quartz began to glow.

Sure enough, there she was. He couldn’t quite figure out what she was up to, but she appeared to be shopping for…

“A snowmobile?”

Birch blinked, before smiling widely.

“Definitely a woman after my heart,” he muttered dryly, continuing to watch as she apparently haggled about the price.

Birch scowled as the quartz suddenly went dark. Apparently, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her every minute of the day, but the glimpses he was seeing of her in action were enough to arouse his curiosity.

What he wanted to do was drive back to the island, but something was telling him that it was much too soon. Hopefully, he would receive another sign of what was to come and how he fit into the picture.

There was a knock on the kitchen door, and Birch walked through the living room and kitchen to answer it.

Birch was shocked when he opened the door. “Gramps. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to help you as much as I can,” he responded, walking into the kitchen.

“What’s happening to me?”

“It’s the change, and time for your transformation,” Gramps answered, walking inside.

“My what?”

“Nice place you have here,” Gramps muttered, laying down his luggage on the kitchen floor. “Mind if I come in?”

“Of course not,” Birch murmured, motioning him into the living room with a wave of his arm. “How about some coffee?”

“Sure. But I can’t talk about the transformation,” Gramps answered, taking off his coat and hanging it on one of the hooks near the back door.

“Why not?”

“Because in order for you to achieve your goals, you need to recognize your mission without any outside interference. It’s very important for you not to have any preconceived notions of what this conflict entails. You must be allowed to remember everything you’ve learned about your enemy in the past.”

“You can’t even tell me what this is all about?”

Gramps shrugged, answering, “No. Although, in part, it’s only because you’ve never believed in the magick you’ve inherited and have chosen to tamp it down. You have to be accepting in order to see the path of your future in detail.”

Birch hated when his Grandfather started talking in that cryptic language of his, but strangely, he was beginning to have more patience to try and understand.

As Gramps walked into the living room,

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