Page 94 of Spell Ya Later

They blink.

Wait, what?

I’m going crazy, obviously. Paintings and sketches don’t move. They don’t. That’s not a thing. Right?

“Are you, um, blinking at me?” My voice trembles.

This is totally normal. I’m just asking a sketch if it’s sentient. Shit, the house is sentient, why not anything else?

It blinks. Just once, but in the exact same way as before. I wait a few more seconds. Another blink. Almost like it’s a timed action.

“Grandma?!” I call, not moving a single muscle other than my face.

Grandma opens the door with far too much nonchalance for my liking. This is a family that has been through some shit in the last few days. I would appreciate a little hastiness. Maybe a door slam.

“My sketch is blinking at me.”

She smiles.Smiles. “Yes, and?”

“What do you mean ‘yes, and?’ The sketch. Is blinking. At me.”

She pads softly over and sits on my floral bedspread, smoothing the fabric with her hand. “Witches who have artistic abilities have been known to imbue their work with some of their magic. It’s not uncommon for witches to sell paintings that move, or for books to allow you to smell the foods described inside. It’s part of our gift.”

“And you didn’t think to mention this to your granddaughter obsessed with painting?” I barely suppress the most epic eye roll in history. May have been record breaking. We’ll never know now.

Her smile tilts downward, guilt weighing heavily in her eyes. “I figured you would have seen it at the market. I suppose there is much I forgot to tell you over the past few weeks.”

I sigh. “I’m behind in a lot of ways, but especially when it comes to magic. It’s not your responsibility to get me completely up to speed.”

“While I appreciate your uncharacteristic understanding, you and your sister have both been failed. And I have played a part in that. Would you like me to take you to the market? Show you the artists and their pieces?”

I consider her offer. Going there would be good for all of us—her and Laura included.

“If we can convince Laura to join us, I think it would be good for us to get out of the house as a family.”

Always the eavesdropper, Laura pops her head round the corner in the way she used to when she was younger. “I need new shoes. What the fuck are we waiting for?”

It’s nowthat I realize I’d completely forgotten about the existence of Ash Cedar, and that Laura has decidedlynot,if the way she’s tugging me in the complete opposite direction of his smirk is any indication. Those green eyes follow us until he’s out of sight.

“Have you seen him since the last time we were here?” I ask, my feet tumbling underneath me, threatening to send me headfirst into the dirt path.

The market is exactly the same. Herbs and smoke cloud the air, witchy gowns flow around the ankles of ancient women and cats weave between their legs. The market comforts me, despite the attack last time I was here. It has a homey warmth that relaxes all my limbs.

Laura scoffs, squeezing my hand tighter. “I don’t know whom you’re referring to, but the answer is no.”

“How can the answer be no if you don’t know whom I’m referring to?”

“Because it’s no!”

“Girls!”

Laura abruptly stops, causing me to run smack into her back. It’s the only time I’m grateful she’s taller than me, because her hair cushions my impact. We turn back and wait as Grandma catches up with us.

She huffs as she approaches. “You walk as if the devil himself is behind you.”

“I mean.” Laura smiles in the way that makes me want to curl into myself. She inherited it from Mom. It’s the I’m-about-to-say-something-bitchy smile. “Have you seen yourself lately, Grandma? When was the last time you combed your hair?”

Grandma blinks once and a giant piece of dirt flies from the ground and right into Laura’s perfect blonde hair. “I don’t know, dear, but it looks like you have something in yours.”