Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1)

“They could pay someone to cast it for them. There are countless witches and warlocks in the Market Below who would cast such spells for a very reasonable price,” Peter said.

“But there’s a chance they didn’t. If it were a crime of passion, then they wouldn’t have had the foresight to do something like that,” I argued.

Peter wore a thoughtful expression as he rubbed his chin. Finally, he said, “I guess it can’t hurt to try,” and my insides sang with triumph. “We can cast the spell in the back room.” Peter walked across the aisle to Nic, handing him my list of ingredients. “Gather as many of these as you can.” Nic nodded, dutifully taking the paper. Then Peter went to the shop door, turning over the lock and flicking the sign to ‘Closed’ before returning to me.

“Follow me. You can help me set up.” I trailed him to the back of the store as he called to Nic. “Come back this way when you have everything.”

“Will do!” Nic replied, sounding happy to be involved.

My eyes traced the strong, hard lines of Peter’s frame as he led me through a short corridor and into what appeared to be a spell casting room at the back of the shop. The floor was adorned in lush carpets and pillows, while antique shelves full of herbs and tinctures lined an entire wall. The scent of spicy incense hung in the air.

I watched as Peter lit a few candles. He had no clue the heady effect being in such a small space with him had on me. He blew out the match, filling the windowless room with that burnt chemical smell that always reminded me of birthday cake.

“You’re no longer a suspect in the murder,” Peter stated, glancing at me out the corner of his eye.

“Yes, thanks to you, I’m not.”

“So, why are you so determined to find the killer? Don’t you trust in the Guard’s ability to solve the case?”

“Of course, I trust in the Guard, but it’s hard for me to just sit back and do nothing.”

“Why’s that?” Peter asked, turning to face me now.

I bit my lip then went to sit on one of the soft, plush oversized cushions. “I have my reasons, but I can’t tell you.”

His eyebrows rose. “You can’t?”

I shook my head. If Angela’s stalker was the same person who killed Mr Williams, then I definitely had a personal interest in the case, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to go blabbing to Peter about that. He might’ve been helping me with this spell, but that didn’t mean we were friends, and I couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’t tell Sophia about Angela’s situation, who might then go on to tell others. I knew Angela would hate that kind of attention and drama surrounding her, especially at school. No, it was best to keep the whole thing under wraps for now.

Peter shrugged. “Fine. Keep your secrets.” He turned, grabbing a large spell bowl from the shelf. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t been able to get Mr Williams’ death off my mind either. I barely slept last night. It was just so shocking seeing him like that. It would be a weight off my mind to know the person who did it was behind bars.”

“I can’t argue with you there,” I said, and our gazes met in understanding. We’d both experienced the same trauma. I’d never seen anything as grizzly as what had been done to Mr Williams.

Peter and I were still quietly staring at one another when Nic entered the room carrying a number of glass bottles and jars. There were too many, and several of them fell clumsily to the floor. Luckily, the carpet was thick enough to cushion their fall.

“Sorry,” he said, shaking his head at himself as he bent to pick them back up.

“No worries,” Peter replied, eyes on me as I crawled across the floor to grab some of the fallen jars. Heat rose in my cheeks when I realised my position was slightly provocative. Peter cleared his throat, glancing away while I quickly scrambled back to the cushion I’d been sitting on.

“I think I’ve got most of what we need,” Nic said. “There are a few items I couldn’t locate, though.”

“They should be in here,” Peter replied. “We keep the more expensive items secured in this room. Let me see what you’ve got so far.”

I fell quiet while Peter and Nic arranged the ingredients for the spell out on the carpet. I took in the assortment and began to feel like this might actually work. Peter sat down on my right and Nic on my left. All three of us were well versed in the procedures for starting a spell. Peter passed around a bowl of water for us to clean our hands. His fingers touched mine when he handed me the bowl, but I kept my eyes downcast. The energy in the low-lit room was too intense, thick with the magic in all of us. Yes, even me, inept as I was.