Lenora's Grimoire

Chapter Five

Cherish wasn't thrilled about calling home. Her stomach felt tight, like it was anticipating something painful. She had already bitten the bullet and called her grandma that morning to ask about the dying tree in her front lawn—but calling home felt different. Scarier.

After all, she'd been gone for almost six years.

Cherish stared down at Lenora's grimoire, tightening her grip on the phone as it rang.

Ringing was a good sign, she thought to herself numbly.

She wasn't even sure they would answer, let alone speak to her. She'd put so much distance between her family and herself after what had happened that she wasn't sure they would even want to speak to her.

"Hello?"

Cherish couldn't find her voice for a moment, stunned into silence by the deep, vaguely familiar lull of her older brother's voice over the phone. There was a strange, garbled squeak she was able to emit, but it was so quiet she almost hoped he hadn't heard it.

"Who is this?"

Cherish swallowed. "Griffen?"

"Fuck, is that you, Cherish?" Her brother sounded surprised. "Grandma said you'd called her earlier—she mentioned something about your trees dying—are you alright? Are you in danger?"

"I'm fine." Cherish took a long, slow breath. "I have a favor to ask."

Griffen scoffed. "Don't we all," he said. "You've been MIA for six years, Cherish. We were all so worried about you—and you're calling because you have a favor to ask?"

"Yes." Cherish glanced between the man, who was standing on the other side of her desk, and then glanced once more down at the grimoire before her. She felt a cold shudder run up her spine at the sight of the book. It felt like it still wanted to bite her. "I need some Latin translated."

"You're not serious," Griffen said. "Are you?"

"I'm serious," Cherish said. "I have a book I need to translate, and I need it done as soon as possible."

"I'm sure some professor at some college would be able to help you with that," Griffen said.

Cherish hesitated. She should have known her brother wouldn't have been willing to help her—not with her leaving in the dead of night, not after how much she'd hurt them—

"It's a grimoire, Griffen. I don't want to take it to a college professor." She pushed the words out, even though she knew it would only lead to more questions.

She heard Griffen groan. "Alright. I'm sure mom can translate it, but you're going to have to come home—and you're going to have a lot to answer for."

Cherish winced. She'd hoped he wouldn't suggest that. There was no way she was going back there. She couldn't bear to face them again—especially not with a grimoire, especially not after that night—not after that thing in the attic hadappeared in the circle, had let out a noise so terrifying that it had reverberatedin Cherish's very bones—"It's for someone else," she said. "A friend—his name is—"

Cherish stopped, realizing she hadn't even bothered to ask the man's name.

"Raven," the man offered, quiet enough that Cherish was sure Griffen hadn't heard him over the phone.

"Uh, his name is Raven. He just wanted a page of it translated so he could read it, and we don't have anyone else to ask."

"Offer still stands," Griffen said. "Take it or leave it, Cherish. Come home or don't, up to you. If you want it translated, that's the only option I can offer you."

Cherish started to argue, but her phone trilled against her ear.

"Of course he hung up on me," she said, letting out a frustrated huff of air.

Raven stared at her expectantly. His hands were cupped around the plant he'd brought with him. For a moment, Cherish debated on telling him that he was out of luck, that there was nothing more she could do to help him.

There was that pesky intuition inside of her, though, reminding her that her tree was dying as well, and with the addition of the grouchy grimoire, she couldn't just ignore the synchronicities. Maybe, she reasoned with herself, if she was able to get the spell translated to help Raven, she could use the same spell to heal her tree.

Maybe she'd be able to get Griffen to perform the spell for her instead, so she wouldn't have to use her own.

"It looks like we're going on a road trip," she said. "I don't suppose you'd have a car?"

She grabbed the grimoire with the intention of taking it with them, and promptly dropped it, hissing in pain.

"Are you alright?" Raven asked, taking a step closer.

Cherish winced. "Fine," she said, shaking her hand out. It had almost felt like, for a moment, the grimoire had burned her. "Give me a moment." She grabbed a cloth out of her desk and wrapped it around the spine of the grimoire before picking it up again.

Raven stared. "Sure you're alright?"

"Fine," Cherish said shortly, holding the book as far out in front of her as possible, like it was a trash bag she was taking out to the trash can.

"What happened?"

Cherish sighed, before turning her hand over to look at her palm where it had touched the grimoire. It was red, like it had come in contact with something hot.

"It burned me," she muttered under her breath.

(A/N) Final Chapter Word Count: 900