“I suppose I would,” she said. “But in this, I’m afraid I can’t help you. You see…”

Mercedes paused and opened her bag and took out a large book—black, leather-bound, with two skulls embossed on the cover. Mercedes set it in her lap and opened it carefully. Carefully because the book was full of odds and ends—scraps of paper, recipe cards, photographs, pressed flowers and leaves. The pages themselves were thick, soft cotton, covered in black, red, blue, and green ink. Some of the pages bore elaborate drawings of triangles within circles, circles within squares, animals, trees, moons, and stars.

Other pages bore only writing, nearly as ornate as calligraphy. Back, back, back, Mercedes turned in the book, and Nora saw some dates written on top of the pages. Journal entries. Back she went through this year, then last year, before reaching the November she’d been in New Orleans house-hunting. Two years and ten months ago.

Mercedes stopped at last and took from the book a small slightly-crinkled envelope. An ordinary envelope. She slipped her fingers under the flap and from inside pulled out a red rectangle, no bigger than the palm of her hand.

She held it out toward Nora, who took it with the slightest quiver in her stomach.

“This is my business card,” Nora breathed. “You kept it.”

“I did.”

“But…why?”

“I used it,” she said. “To cast a spell of protection.”

“Protection? I don’t need protection.” Søren, Nico, Kingsley, Gmork…the last thing she needed was more people trying to protect her.

“You misunderstand me, Mistress Nora. I wasn’t trying to protect you. The spell was for protection from you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nora’s doubt about this woman turned to fear. She clutched her wine glass harder in her hand, holding it against her chest so Mercedes couldn’t see it shaking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Nora asked.

Mercedes clasped her hands together and rested them in her lap on the pages of the open book.

“We have a rule,” Mercedes said. “An it harm none, do as ye will. It’s our only commandment. It comes with a warning—whatever harm we do will be visited upon us threefold. So I have no wish to harm you, Mistress.”

“Good. That makes two of us.”

Mercedes gave her a gentle smile.

“If I thought you would believe a word I said,” Mercedes continued, “I would explain what I mean. But you’re Catholic. To you, our Old Ways are party games and cons. You came to me for a reading because it’s what tourists do in the Quarter when it’s too early to drink, and you’ve already eaten all the beignets you can handle for the day.”

“I try to keep an open mind.”

“You should. But will you, if I tell you my truth? Or will you call it a lie or a hoax or a con?”

“Would you blame me if I did?”

“Would you blame me if I called your faith a hoax? If I called Catholicism a sham? If I told you that you’re enabling the patriarchal oppression of women every single time you walk through a Catholic church’s doors? Would you blame me if I reminded you that only men are allowed to become priests in your faith because they do not deem women worthy of holding holy office?”