Lenora's Grimoire

Chapter Sixteen

The walk home was usually quiet and dark, but Cherish was sure she could feel her heart pounding loudly inside of her. She wasn't sure if she had an adrenaline high from having performed magic correctly in actual years, or if she was anticipating something terrible happening.

After the spell had worked, she'd felt as though she could scream at the top of her lungs in her excitement.

Now, though, she could also feel a looming sense of dread settling in around that jubilation.

Lenora's warning, after all, was still ringing in her head.

You abhor witches, cannot stand them for what they stand for, and so for that . . . you must be punished.

A shiver went up Cherish's spine as she recalled the words. Her words had felt so real, so full of venom, that Cherish was certain under any other circumstances they would be considered a curse—but since she was a witch, she couldn't possibly be cursed for not being a witch, right?

Cherish shook her head slowly as if to answer herself.

She reached her front gate and took a second to breathe. Her heart was still racing, and she sought out the cedar tree, cloaked in the shadows of the night, still deathly quiet next to her front door.

It felt as though her heart had leapt into her throat. She swallowed nervously and opened the front gate. It squeaked with effort as it swung open, and she latched it behind her. Taking a few steps towards the tree, she stopped.

If the spell with Raven's plant had worked, then it was possible to bring the tree back, too.

Cherish dug in her bag and pulled out Lenora's grimoire. She flipped it open to the page her mother had translated.

She didn't bother with casting a circle—it would take too much time and she was well aware that the window of time she and Raven had established to do the spell was quickly coming to a close—which meant that if she was going to try to heal the tree, too, she would only have time to cast the spell.

The circle wasn't that important, right?

She swallowed nervously as the memory of the demon jumping out of the circle at her when she was a child flashed behind her eyes when she blinked.

She shoved the memory away. She couldn't think about things that terrified her like that when she had more important things to worry about.

She recited the words on the page once more, although this time, she was quieter, more aware that her neighbors could open their front doors or their windows at any moment and overhear her practicing witchcraft on her front lawn.

Somehow, the danger of the situation made her more excited about the whole thing.

As she whispered the words, she reached out mentally to touch the tree with her energy. She could feel the same, slow pulsing in it that she had felt with Raven's plant earlier, and with the earth—albeit the tree wasn't as touchy as the plant had been about Cherish poking at it. It almost seemed to welcome the touch, like a small cat.

Cherish felt a small smile at the corner of her lips. The spell had worked—not once, but twice.

All at once, she realized just how tired she was. She closed the book and headed into the house. She slung her bag, along with Lenora's grimoire, over the side of the armchair in her living room, and shuffled wearily back to her bedroom.

It had been a very long day—and while she was thankful Lenora's hallucinations had come to an end, and the spell had worked twice, she was in desperate need of rest.

As she closed her eyes, she became aware of whispering.

Frowning, she opened her eyes again and flicked on the lamp sitting on her nightstand. She couldn't see anything, and she shook her head.

She was clearly tired, and she was imagining things—right?

She shut off the lamp, pulled an extra pillow over her ears to drown out the muffled whispers, and forced herself to sleep. She had nothing to worry about. The spells had worked, and Lenora was gone. There was nothing to worry about.

The end, Cherish thought sleepily as the lull of dreams overtook her.

(A/N) Final Chapter Word Count: 718