Flipping the Bird (Shift Creek #1) - Carrie Pulkinen Page 0,56
off her shoulder and lay on the table in front of her. She stroked his fur, and he rolled onto his back, letting her scratch his belly. He sure was cute when he wasn’t being a butt…or trying to smile.
She waited what felt like a million excruciating minutes while Donovan read. Finally, after the underworld froze over and thawed out again, he tapped the page.
“There were too many sick for him to heal them all. Performing magic can be taxing on a body, and it requires rest to recover when you cast powerful spells such as the one that cured the illness. That’s why he gave the creek healing powers.”
“So it was a healing spell on the water?”
He shook his head. “The stream was too far gone for that. He performed a sacrificial spell.”
“It sounds self-explanatory, but can you explain anyway?”
Donovan sat up straight, an expression of awe in his eyes as he stared straight ahead for a moment before looking at her. “He gave up his healing magic to save the town and instilled it in the creek so that all could access it without the limitations of his mortal body.”
“Wow. Now there’s a selfless act for you. He was just passing through, and he gave up a part of himself to help a bunch of shifters he hardly knew?”
He took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “He was in love with Beatrice, so it makes perfect sense. He would do anything for love.”
“But he won’t do that,” Alice sang.
Donovan furrowed his brow. “What won’t he do?”
“No, it’s a song. Meatloaf?”
“Is that what you want for dinner?”
“The song is called ‘I Would Do Anything for Love…’” Alice laughed. She’d have to school him in music when this was done. “Never mind. So he gave up his magic to save the creek. How is it tied to the family, then?”
“In order for the magic to remain, every thirty years, a Rainecourt must cast a healing spell to replenish the magic.”
“So they don’t have to live here? Just cast a spell and get on with their lives, and the town will prosper?”
He turned the page and read some more. “Part of the sacrifice was his promise that his family would stay in the town and tend to the creek. The spirit of the stream accepted his offer, so any Rainecourt born outside of Shift Creek would be born with their magic locked. The only way to unlock their power would be to bathe in the stream while it’s flowing in reverse.”
Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “That explains why you don’t have powers.”
“And why the creek did nothing to help me.”
“Does it say how to fix it?”
“The incantation is here.” He pointed to the blank page. “I assume my father knew about and ignored the family obligation when his wife died.”
“And he kept it a secret from you and your brothers.” That self-centered stick of jerky.
“Leaving the estate to me was the final nail in the town’s coffin. I can’t cast this spell.” He brought a heavy fist down on the table. “If he’d given the property to Griffin, the problem would be fixed by now.”
She squeezed his hand. “There’s still a chance he’ll get your message.”
“In three days? It’s doubtful, and even if he does check in, it will take days to travel to an airport. He goes deep into uncharted territory on his missions.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. He had a point. “What about Matthias? I know you don’t have a good relationship, but…”
“I called him. He refused, saying it was nothing more than a marketing ploy.”
She slumped. “Like father, like son.”
“Precisely.” He turned the page and continued reading. “Oh. This is not good.”
“What does it say?”
“Should the magic be allowed to run out, someone with Rainecourt blood must perform a personal sacrifice under a full moon to restore it. Otherwise, the poison will return. The spell Cyrus cast suppressed it, but he wasn’t able to completely remove it.”
“The poison? As in…we’ll all kick the bucket?”
He squinted at the page. “It seems so.”
“Oh, hell.”
Donovan cut his gaze toward her and lifted a brow.
“What? Sometimes a situation requires a well-placed curse.” She straightened. “Any chance Griffin would give up some of his magic to help a bunch of strangers?”
“Absolutely none.”
She sank in her chair, and Marty climbed up her arm to nuzzle her neck. “So that’s it, then. No more magical creek. No more tourists. No more town. The thing we’ve built our livelihoods on is