Page 101 of Impractical Magic

Mama stared at her daughter, shocked. “What does that mean? What happened to your father wasn’t your fault.”

Scarlett laughed, but it was a bitter, humorless sound. “See! You think you know everything, but you don’t. It was totally my fault. Look at you—the all-seeing Kelly Melrose—and all this time you never even knew.”

“What are you talking about?” Mama’s voice was soft, almost afraid.

The words poured out, a torrent of guilt and grief that Scarlett had held inside for far too long. “You know, I didn’t even want to go to the grove that night! Nate and I had just decided that we were maybe, possibly, finally going to have a real date. Plus, Papa had a shipment of tulip bulbs he wanted us to put in the garden before the frost. There were a hundred things I wanted to be doing that didn’t include sitting in the woods pulling toxins out of fucking oak trees. But ooh, it’s the grove, we’ve got to protect the grove, we’re Melroses, we have responsibilities, blahdy blah. So there we are, sitting on the ground, and it was cold, and my trousers were wet, and it was taking forever—you were doing some kind of incantation that just went on and on and on, and I was so fucking bored. And I let my mind wander and . . .” Tears streamed down Scarlett’s face, her body shaking. “And right then you said something about a vessel, but my mind wasn’t focused on the actual vessel, it was entirely on Papa, and all the poison went into him and he died! And I haven’t come home because I can’t face you. Or Del and Luna! How can I ever look them in the eye, if they knew I killed Papa?”

“Oh child . . .” Mama’s own eyes were wet with tears. “Oh no, oh you precious girl, come here to me.” She rose from her seat to wrap her daughter in a tight embrace.

They held each other for a long moment, the silence broken only by the sound of their shared grief.

Finally, Mama pulled back, cupping Scarlett’s face in her hands. “Beautiful girl, that’s not why. That’s not why it went wrong. Sweetie, no. I was leading that spell, not you. The miscalculation was entirely mine. I should never have brought you girls along in the first place—I knew you were all too young. What I should have done was drag Jerusha and Candace out to the grove to help me instead. But I just . . . well . . . the truth is I fucking hate Jerusha and Candace! But I love you girls. I was being selfish, don’t you see? I wanted to share that experience with you. You were all growing up so fast . . . and I thought, who knows how many more opportunities I’ll get to do collective spells with you. But the whole time, instead of truly focusing on the task, I was paying attention to you girls—how you were doing, and if you were all right. And my mind drifted. I started thinking about the five of us—our lovely family of Papa and me and you girls. My angel, it was my focus that was off; that’s what made things go so wrong. I’m to blame. Not you. Never, never you.”

They cried together, holding each other tight as years of pain and guilt washed over them. When the tears finally subsided, Scarlett sniffled. “I guess I should have brought this up sooner.”

Mama laughed and cried equally. “You foolish girl. Oh, my foolish girl, I love you so.” She took Scarlett’s hands in her own, her expression fierce with love and determination. “Listen to me. Tomorrow, we will all go to the grove as a family. And you will perform the spell and those goddamn starlings will murmurate all over the place and you, my darling girl, will save this town.”

Scarlett wiped at her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Very much so.”

“Thanks, Mama. I promise I won’t let you down. I’ll prove to you that I can do it.”

Mama shook her head. “You don’t need to prove it to me. Maybe you need to prove it to you, but not to me. And listen to me—when this is over? If you want to go back to San Francisco because that’s where you truly want to be, then go with my blessing. All I ask is that you don’t wait ten more years to come visit us. Okay?”

Scarlett nodded.

“And, of course—” here Mama had a mischievous glint in her eye “—if you decide that there is somewhere else you truly want to be? I won’t mind that either.”

The hour was late, and Mama declared that it was time for them to get a couple hours of sleep. As they made their way up the dark staircase, Scarlett paused.

“Mama? Remember when I first got home? We sat in your office and you told me that phone sabotage is one of the most-cast spells?”

“Published in the Acta Diurna Magus, yes of course.”

“Well, I gotta know . . . what are the others?”

“I must tell you—” she sighed “—the popular spells these days are embarrassingly small-bore. Let me think . . . clearing highway traffic is one. Password retention is another. Locating lost 401ks. Oh, there’s a spell that lets the recipient immediately know which streaming service a particular program is on? I don’t even understand that one.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened, excited. “Ohh, I do. That’s a good one. Those all sound quite good.”

Mama frowned, unimpressed. “When I was your age, the most-cast spell involved the Berlin Wall, but . . . sure. Streaming services.” She paused at the top of the stairs, turning to face her daughter. “Sweet dreams, my dear. Tomorrow, you save our world.”

Chapter 39: Floaty Candles

The early morning sun cast a soft, golden light over the oak grove as Scarlett made her way up the hill, her mother and sisters by her side. The air was crisp and cool, and the dew-covered grass sparkled like diamonds beneath their feet. Despite the seriousness of the task at hand, there was a sense of warmth and unity among the women as they walked together, their steps in perfect sync.

Over her shoulder, Luna had a satchel filled with candles, herbs, and other mystical tools to help amplify Scarlett’s power. Delilah carried a few soft blankets and a couple of folding chairs, while Mama had a large basket overflowing with food and water. They were prepared to stay by Scarlett’s side for as long as it took. Also, Kelly Melrose had never once in her life turned down a picnic.

As they approached the edge of the grove, they weren’t surprised at all to find Nate there waiting for them. Without a word, he fell into step beside the women. His hand found Scarlett’s and he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

But as they entered the grove itself, the mood shifted dramatically. The trees were even more sickly and withered than ever, their leaves drooping and bark peeling away in large, brittle chunks. The air was tinted a vague, unsettling red, the color of rust and decay, and it was filled with the constant, droning buzz of countless glowing dragonflies. The insects flitted from tree to tree, their wings leaving trails of crimson light in their wake. The stench of rot and disease was almost overwhelming.

Scarlett made her way to the center of the grove, where the largest and oldest oak tree stood. Its mighty trunk was gnarled and twisted, its branches reaching up and out like the grasping fingers of a crone who’d lived far too long. Luna began to arrange her herbs and candles in a circle around the tree—her hands moved with practiced grace as she sent the candles floating into the air.

Delilah approached Scarlett, her eyes shining as she pulled her sister into a fierce hug. “You’re an idiot,” she whispered. “But you’ve got this.”

Luna came next, her smile soft and encouraging. “Remember, Scarlett,” she said, “you are stronger than you know. Trust in yourself and in the magic that flows through you.”