Southern Belles and Spells Matchmaker Mysteries by Amy Boyles

Author:Amy Boyles [Boyles, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LADYBUGBOOKS, LLC
Published: 2020-03-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Hildegarde was the strangest creature I had ever met. Truly. Long, stringy gray hair flowed from her crown. Her black clothes were tattered just about everywhere, and she smelled like the swamp.

That might’ve been the worst thing about her—the smell.

As soon as my mother called Hildegarde, she arrived. Broom was very interested in her, as water also pooled at the swamp witch’s feet.

At first I thought the water was dripping from her clothes, but then I realized she dripped. I don’t know how she did it, but the woman actually dripped, as if the water were coming from her pores.

Broom followed her about the room, sweeping in an attempt to clean up the puddles that splotched the floor.

Hildegarde glanced around the house starry-eyed. “So it’s magical,” she said for the fourth time. “I might trade my entire swamp for a place like this.”

“Well, it’s on loan so you can’t have it,” my mother said stiffly. “Hildie, I hate to invite you here and then move the conversation along, but I’m afraid I don’t have much choice.”

Hildegarde finally sat, yet she still eyed the house like an enchanted creature, all doe-eyed with amazement. But when my mother pulled her back into reality, the swamp witch blinked and straightened.

“Of course. Do you need my services?” Hildegarde rummaged about her torn pockets. “I don’t seem to have any boiled peanuts on me to make a prophecy.”

Mama flicked her wrist. “No, no. I called you here to tell us about an old prophecy, one that you gave me years ago.”

The witch grimaced. “I’ve given so many. I can’t promise to remember one.”

“You’ll remember it. What you said was unique. You told me that my daughter would end all magic and that she would end it in Witch’s Forge.”

Hildegarde blinked in surprise. “Oh, I do remember that one. You know”—she leaned forward, dripping water on the rug—“it is so rare that I remember something I told someone. I’ve given thousands of prophecies over the years, and that’s one of the few I recall.”

She sat back and folded her hands in contentment. “Tell me. How’s that prophecy going? Is all magic gone yet?”

She said it with a lilt in her voice as if it would’ve pleased Hildegarde if all magic disappeared. Let me say this—it wouldn’t have pleased my mother, that was for sure.

“No, of course magic isn’t gone,” Mama snapped. “You arrived by magic.”

The swamp witch considered this. “Oh, that’s right. So I suppose we still have it. Okay. So the prophecy is either wrong or it hasn’t come true. Since my prophecies are never wrong, I suppose it’s simply a matter of time before it takes place.”

“That’s what I’ve called you here for,” Mama explained. “I want to revisit the prophecy. You told me that Charming would be the linchpin in the destruction of magic. I’m wondering if that’s correct.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because we have knowledge now that she may have nothing to do with it.”

Hildegarde cocked her head to one side. She studied me before extending her hand toward me.

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