Page 7 of Enchanted to Meet You

“Well, no, not really.” When he continued to give me the hairy eyeball, I said, “I mean, I’ve been a bit busy getting ready for this sale.” When the disbelieving look turned into bewilderment, I explained, “My Fall into Fall sale? I have it every year. It’s when we slash our prices to get rid of all of our summer stock to make room for our winter inventory—”

Now the look turned to one of impatience. “Ms. Gold. Are you serious? You’ve noticednothingstrange around this village at all lately? Sinkholes? Missing pets? Unusual weather patterns? Anything unusual at all?”

“Well, if you put it that way...”

You couldn’t be a witch—even a nonhereditary witch like me—and not have some inkling when things weren’t quite right. Dina had been complaining for months that West Harbor real estate sales were down, while sales in neighboring Greenwich and Fairfield remained as brisk as ever. The shop next door to Enchantments had had aVacant: For Leasesign in its papered-over display window for months, and I’d even noticed a slight decline in the usually vigorous market for my wide-leg loungers.

All of those things could be explained by a local—verylocal—economic slump.

But the wolf Mark swore he’d seen along the jogging trail while he’d been out for his daily run the other day? There hadn’t been a wolf spotted in Connecticut since the seventeen hundreds, when colonists, fearing for their livestock, hunted them into extinction.

Yet the more we tried to convince Mark that he’d only imagined the one he’d seen—or that it had been someone’s husky escaped from its leash or backyard—the more he stuck to his story.

Now I was wondering if he might actually have been right.

And then there was the water.

“I mean, sure, there’ve been a few odd things here and there,” I replied, carefully. The pleasant glowy feeling his touch had wrapped me in had all but disappeared, and I was beginning to feel something else instead... a slight chill. It wasn’t coming from the open window behind me, either. “Some flooding in town. Every time there’s a king tide or it rains more than a fraction of an inch, the Post Road floods, especially in the cafeteria over by the high school. That never used to happen. And there’ve been some odd animal sightings. But that kind of thing is going on all over the world, isn’t it? Climate change, or something—?”

“No.” Derrick’s silver gaze was steady. “It’s because of the rift right here in West Harbor. And it’s going to keep getting worse every day until the Chosen One puts a stop to it.”

“And by the Chosen One, you mean me? All because it says so in some book someone found buried in a wall? Oh,come on.” I guffawed, but the air around me did seem to be getting chillier. “You know this is basically the beginning of every supernatural horror film ever made, right? You can’t actually believe it.”

“I do believe it,” he said quietly. “Because I’ve seen it happen before, dozens of times. I’m sure you’ve heard of it happening before, too. Towns just like this one that were wiped off the map like they never existed—”

“You mean by fire or flood? Those were natural disasters.”

“Were they?” His eyes glowed. “Or was it because of an old wrong, a crime committed long ago that was never righted, so that the forces of evil were allowed to fester beneath the town until finally they created a rift they were able to slip through and destroy the area completely?”

“Oh.” I blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Except that I had. A crime committed long ago that was neverrighted? I had personal knowledge of such a crime . . . several such crimes, actually. I’d contributed to them. I’d always wondered when—or if—anything would ever come of them.

I guess I had my answer.

“But what if that evil could have been stopped?” he went on, those silver eyes gleaming excitedly. “That’s why I’m here. I’m hoping to keep such a rift from happening to West Harbor—but I can only do it with your help.”

“Okay,” I said. No way was I going to mention having personal knowledge of any crime that might possibly have contributed to the evil festering beneath my town. I was going to keep it cool. As cool as a witch in a neon jumpsuit could keep things. “In that case, yeah, I think maybe I should hear about this ancient prophecy of yours. Just to be on the safe side.”

Looking pleased, Derrick lifted his stack of papers and began to read aloud from the first page. “‘Every thirteenth generation, a child is born. Into this child, the light will be implanted—’”

Implanted?

“‘—by one trained to wield it. That child will become the bringer of light. Through her, compassion and empathy will be reborn. Through her, harmony in nature will once again be restored. Through her, evil will be extinguished—’”

“Sorry to interrupt.” My heart, which had already been drumming at the possibility of my having contributed in some way to the formulation of this supernatural fault line, was beginning to slam inside my chest. “But was this fact-checked by anyone? Because it seems a bit—”

“There’s more.” Derrick pointed to his paper.

“I’m sure. But—”

“Just let me get to the end. ‘Without her, hope dies. And without hope, humanity dies itself. And because there will always be those who prefer evil,’” Derrick continued reading, “‘she must beprotected by the one who is chosen. When the Bringer of Light is joined by the Chosen One, her power will increase tenfold. Because it is only with light that evil can be destroyed, and it is only with light that life can flourish.’”

I realized my hand had crept toward the amethyst stone I always wore on a silver chain at my throat—or had worn, at least, since the trouble with Billy. Amethyst had protective properties, and the stone had always worked.

Up until now.

“There,” he said. “That’s it. This is your copy to keep.” He laid the folded pages on top of the pile of lacy bralettes between us. “You can ask your questions now if you still have any.”