Conjure by Lea Nolan

Author:Lea Nolan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Perseus Books Group
Published: 2012-10-07T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“We’ll be working a Psychic Vision charm.” Miss Delia settles into her stool, as pleased as a kid at a carnival with a giant wad of cotton candy. “But first we need to purify this knife. If it did belong to your pirate, there’s no telling how much of his taint could be left on it, even after all this time.” She pours some citronella on it, then instructs me to gather a list of ingredients, which I pile on the counter next to the dagger.

“I haven’t seen a Psychic Vision performed since I was a girl. My gran cast it before they stole her mortar.” She hands me the purifying oil to cleanse myself. “Make sure you use plenty of this. After casting those spells this morning, you’re likely to be extra tired when we’re through.”

Oh. Good to know. Dabbing some of the oil on my wrists and neck, I scan the assembled crocks and wonder what the heck she’s talking about. Granted, there are a few ingredients I’ve never heard of, much less used before, but for the most part, they’re ordinary roots and herbs, not a time machine. “Um, I think I’m missing something. How are these things supposed to help us see into the past?” The teapot on the stove squeals as it comes to a boil. I lift it off the burner and shut off the gas.

Miss Delia spoons dried herbs into two small pieces of cheesecloth. “Each of these plants has its own purpose. When mixed in the right concentration they form the perfect blend to open our minds.” Her fingers shake as she works to fold the cloth into neat squares. But the thin fabric won’t cooperate, so I reach over and help complete the makeshift tea bags. When they’re done, she hands them to me and points to the mugs I’ve already placed on the counter. I drop the bags in and add steaming water to steep her psychic tea. She gazes at the mortar and strokes its stony surface. “But no matter how open we are, only a deep and ancient power will reveal the past. That’s where this mortar comes in. It’s bursting with old magic. Here, lay your palms against it. Can you feel its energy?” Her eyes crackle with excitement. Even the cloudy one.

All I feel is the mortar’s cool, rough surface. I shrug, obviously missing something.

“Close your eyes and quiet your mind.” Her voice is slow and soft. I quirk my brow, unsure what she means, but she prods me on. “Go on, child, it’s not going to bite. You’ve got to learn to tap into these places in your body and soul. It’s the same way you’ll hear that spirit guide of yours.”

Judging from how my spirit guide basically forced me to steal the knife in the museum, I’d say I hear her just fine, thank you very much. But since Miss Delia doesn’t want to know the details of how we came to possess either the mortar or the knife, I decide not to get into it.

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