Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“Like sage.”
“Exactly. When we go antiquing, I have to sage everything when we get home.”
“That’s so we don’t bring someone else’s bad juju into our space.”
“Yes.” I smiled at him, as always pleased that he not only listened, but retained what I told him. It meant the world to me.
“You know, I don’t recall you cleansing my laptop or the new TV I bought.”
“Because those were only ever owned by you, so they’re imbued with your essence, and that is very good.”
“Aw, shucks,” he teased me.
“It’s true.”
“I understand what you’re getting at,” he affirmed, taking my hand and leading me farther into the house. “Everyone uses sage for cleansing and salt for protection and things like that.”
“Yes. Tools are also spices and herbs. Paprika aids in breaking hexes, black pepper will suppress gossip, rosemary repels unwanted people, and lavender promotes peace. These are things you can find anywhere, and they will work the same for everyone.”
“Thus universal, passive magic.”
“Correct.”
“What else?”
“Well, like different color candles for specific tasks. Black for banishing, green for abundance, white for purification, and then all the many different crystals.”
“The tourmaline you have in every corner of my office.”
“Yes.”
“The big chunky pieces of pyrite and citrine you put in Declan’s bistro to bring in prosperity and money.”
I nodded.
“And the stones Amanda carries that she believes keep her from murdering other people.”
I smiled at him. “Yes. And they do. Because amethyst is soothing, rose quartz does make one more compassionate, and smoky quartz is grounding. She needs all those things, so she carries them on her person at all times.”
“So bracelets, pendants with the stones you need, and the herbs and healing, those are all tools anyone who identifies as a witch can research and use.”
“Yes, as did Kathy, which is why she has staves and bindrunes.” Scanning the room, I realized how sad it was to see the charred, gutted remains of her home. It looked like a skeleton with only the bones to the right and an open cavity to the left. “She sold besoms and mojo bags, made floor washes and bath soaks, and simmer pots and candles.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning if she learned about the tools—and her shop was filled with some beautiful crystals and stones—then when people got those things from her, they could incorporate them into their own practice, and that’s shared universal magic.”
“So maybe she sold something to a real witch, and that tool, in turn, became truly magic because it became the possession of someone with—you know, I can see you scowling at me. What’d I say wrong now?”
“Everyone has true gifts,” I corrected him. “If you believe you’re a witch, then you are, but sometimes, you have to wake things up.”
“Like how you make all those spell bottles, and they all have potential, but you do that last step and tell them what they’re supposed to do.”
“Exactly.”
“But when you make something, like the witches ladders that you sell at the harvest festival, those are actually magical because you are.”
“Yes, and conversely, if I got something at Kathy’s store and took it home, in our cottage it would become magic even if it wasn’t to begin with.”
“So inherently magical things, like crystals, become more powerful in a witch’s home.”
“It’s like your police utility vehicle,” I began, and he waggled his eyebrows to tell me I’d done well calling it what it was. “I put that rowan cross on your mirror, and didn’t you tell me it feels different in there now?”
“Yeah, but…no offense to magic, but when I look at it, it reminds me of you, and I feel better going about my day.”
“Which I love,” I sighed, “but that is a very powerful charm on its own that I’ve further imbued with my power, all in the name of keeping you safe.”
“Okay, I got the tools thing, and that the whole world is full of magic that some people are aware of and most aren’t, and—”
“That’s not what I said. What I—”
“No, I know, but can’t something like wheat simply be wheat and not whatever it is to you?”
I scowled at him.
“Can’t it?”
“Yes, but if there are bundles of wheat at a supernatural store like the Witch and Wild, then it was meant to be bought and placed in your home to bring in abundance and prosperity. There was a specific purpose.”
“Which is again, the universal, all around us, passive kind.”
“Yes.”
“What’s the difference between someone who says they’re a witch and someone who is?”
I crossed my arms and glared at him.
“I know you’re standing in solidarity with all your fellow magical folk, but humor me. What’s the difference between you and a person like Cordelia Wormwood?”
“Actually, less than I thought before.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve always thought she didn’t believe in magic at all. That it was just a con for her. I saw her doing things I never would to make a buck.”