BooksBarbecue
Back Spells for Lost Things Save as PDF
Chapters (42)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Prologue
  5. – 1 – Willow
  6. – 2 – Mason
  7. – 3 – Willow
  8. – 4 – Mason
  9. – 5 – Willow
  10. – 6 – Mason
  11. – 7 – Willow
  12. – 8 – Mason
  13. – 9 – Willow
  14. – 10 – Mason
  15. – 11 – Willow
  16. – 12 – Mason
  17. – 13 – Willow
  18. – 14 – Mason
  19. – 15 – Willow
  20. – 16 – Mason
  21. – 17 – Willow
  22. – 18 – Mason
  23. – 19 – Willow
  24. – 20 – Mason
  25. – 21 – Willow
  26. – 22 – Mason
  27. – 23 – Willow
  28. – 24 – Mason
  29. – 25 – Willow
  30. – 26 – Mason
  31. – 27 – Willow
  32. – 28 – Mason
  33. – 29 – Willow
  34. – 30 – Mason
  35. – 31 – Willow
  36. – 32 – Mason
  37. – 33 – Willow
  38. – 34 – Mason
  39. Acknowledgments
  40. More from the Author
  41. About the Author
  42. ALSO BY JENNA EVANS WELCH

– 26 – Mason

Finding sage’s next letter tucked under the figurehead in the library may have been the highlight of my entire life. Willow had stared up at me with an expression that was half You’re my hero and half I’m so annoyed you’re right, I could smack you, and then she’d dragged me straight up to the roof for us to read it together.

I can still feel where her fingers closed around my wrist.

As we climbed the ladder, the mermaid’s expression seemed a bit more smug than usual. You see? It’s all working out for you. I still have no idea what Willow’s function as a sign is, but I’m all for taking the time to figure that out, especially if it means spending more time with her in the house.

Now we’re sitting side by side on the roof, backs against the railing, her hair blowing onto me every time the slightest breeze picks up. I realize this is about as weird of a setup as you can get, but being on this rooftop with Willow, listening to the wind move through the willow tree’s branches, is as close to magic as I can imagine. Her face is flushed the slightest shade of pink, and her energy is filling the few inches of space between us.

It’s making it hard to focus on the specifics of the letter. I’m assigned the job of lookout, and as she reads aloud, I watch the willow tree. I’m hoping there won’t be a repeat visit from Willow’s mom.

“Well, that’s depressing,” Willow says, pushing the letter into my hands. Our fingers touch for one perfect moment, and then she flops back against the railing, her leg brushing against mine as she straightens her knees. Is it just me, or are we now finding ways to touch each other?

“Sisters cursing each other?” I guess.

“Right.” She pulls her ponytail forward and starts twisting the ends around her fingers. “I mean, I can understand it. She was jealous because her sister was always the one being celebrated, plus, she’d lost her mom. Also, she was an actual witch, so she used what she had.”

“Interesting that your aunts all practice witchcraft,” I say. “It makes me think they side more with Thalia.”

“Maybe,” she says thoughtfully. Another gust of wind sends her hair dancing into my face, and she quickly tucks her hair back, her eyes lingering on my mouth for one quick second.

I mean, that could have been wishful thinking. But ever since we stepped into the house, the energy between us has felt different. Lighter. Easier. More connected. Almost like we’ve known each other for longer than our handful of haphazard meetups.