Moonlight (Grim Gate 3)

“That makes sense. I was just a kid at the time.”

“I’m sure you have many questions.”

“Yeah, just a few,” I say with a chuckle. “I have so many that I’m starting to forget what I want to know. I mean, obviously, the biggest question is why my aunt thought it was best to bind my powers and make me forget everything about magic. Well, that and the question of if you can undo the memory spell so I can get all my memories back?”

Tabatha straightens up. “I can undo the spell, though I must warn you, it could change everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your past shapes you, as you know. Some of your core memories could have been altered. Changing those could have lasting effects. You’ll remember most of what transpired between you and your aunt, though it’s also normal for childhood memories to fade.”

“Right.”

“The mind is a complicated yet fragile thing. I don’t agree with what your aunt did to you, and as High Priestess now, I would punish one of my coven members for doing that to another without consent. But it’s been done and you’ve come to who you are believing what you think happened. Uncovering the truth can come at a cost.”

Her words hit me and suddenly I don’t know what to do. I had a happy childhood filled with many good memories. My biggest trauma was growing up feeling like an outcast with my ability to communicate with the dead. But what if that’s not the case? And what if the way I remember someone changes completely?

“I did tell her how she couldn’t get all her memories back at once,” Ruby says. “That if she wants to go through with it, the spell would have to be reversed little by little.”

“Yes.” Tabatha nods. “Changing life as you know it sounds dramatic, but it could essentially be what happens. You’re randomly getting some memories back?”

“Yeah. Just being here made me remember something else.” My brows furrow as something else occurs to me. “The binding spell broke when my aunt died, but why didn’t the memory spell?”

“The two spells are entirely different. Binding powers is tricky. It requires strength and concentration. And if I remember correctly, you were quite gifted with fire magic. The kinetic powers in particular are temperamental and can be easily influenced by emotion. If you got so angry you started a fire with your mind, I’m sure a nearby coven would have heard of it.”

“Right?” I shake my head. “Never started any fires until after I knew I was a witch.” Taking a breath, I run my hand down Hunter’s back, tangling my fingers in his thick fur. “And about the fire magic. I remember sitting in your office with my aunt. I don’t think I was supposed to be listening, but I was. You told my aunt I should go to school here so I can learn to control it because it’s dangerous. But, uh, my aunt said she’d handle it and I couldn’t start late in the term or something like that.”

“Yes.” Tabatha clasps her hands together and sighs. “And that was the last time I ever saw you, I’m sad to say. Your aunt was quite gifted in divination and saw something in a tarot reading. She never shared what it was but insisted you not attending the school was for your own safety.”

I look into the fireplace, mind racing as I try to put the pieces together. I might have discovered the why, but I don’t want it to be true. Though if Aunt Estelle wanted to keep me from the pain of losing a loved one, going to school and learning how to do magic would only give me an advantage in life. “Her husband was killed by a demon, and then she started hunting demons?”

“Yes,” Tabatha says, and Ruby looks surprised.

“Professor Fowler hunted demons?” Her brows go up.

“The demon who killed Estelle’s husband got away. It was in her search for it that she realized she could locate demons remotely and a group was formed who knew how to cast the demons into pocket dimensions.” She gives me a wink, knowing I remember seeing her with Aunt Estelle before.

“Those dimensions,” I start. “They’re weakening too since she died. Is there something I can do to keep more from falling apart?”

Tabatha and Ruby exchange looks. “What do you mean, dear?” Tabatha asks.

“One of the demons, Asaroth, escaped in the fall and came looking for Aunt Estelle, blaming her for getting locked up. But he found me instead. I killed him, with help.” I give Hunter a pat. “But if one dimension can weaken like that, can’t the others? I found a list of demons she helped trap,” I add for clarification, but it doesn’t seem to help. Because a few seconds pass and Tabatha is still staring at me.