Southern Omens (Sweet Tea Witch Mysteries Book 17) Page 3

  Freya glanced over her shoulder at me. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just a kid.”

  “I am a soothsayer,” Ignatius spat. “And when I tell you that I’ve seen death, it’s true.”

  Axel’s voice filled with grit. “Then tell us what you saw, exactly, so that we can get on with this day.”

  Ignatius hesitated before lifting his chin and straightening his collar. “Well, it’s not what I saw exactly, but how it felt, and it felt like death. Like badness is coming.” He pointed his finger into the air, not actually directing it at anyone in particular. “The omens will show that I’m right. There will be three. The first is that the mirror will break.”

  Axel’s hands flexed into fists. Anger pulsed in him. The wolf inside my husband wanted to leap out, wanted to fight. But there was nothing to actually fight. It was only a boy.

  “The second omen,” Ignatius continued, “will be the owl. Beware the owl,” he screeched. “For when it arrives, the third and final omen will be near. It is this omen that you must fear the most because it will be the harbinger of doom.”

  “I thought you were the harbinger of doom,” Yates said snidely.

  “I am merely the vessel for what I see, nothing more,” Ignatius the Evil Omen Seer replied.

  Yes, I had already dubbed him a name.

  Y’all, it was pretty much impossible to believe the eight-year-old standing before me. I had seen a lot in my short life as a witch, but this pretty much took the cake. That Ignatius actually believed what he saw was one thing, for him to destroy what was supposed to be a joyous day seemed like a cry for attention.

  So no, I wasn’t angry like Axel, or annoyed. I was simply over it.

  The boy lifted three fingers. “And the final omen will be the worst of all. It will be—the comet. When that happens, death will arrive.”

  From the back a woman’s voice cried, “What’s all this going on? Who has taken my turn?”

  A woman with a bush of gray hair made her way through the crowd. Folks parted in a wave to let her pass. She paused in the middle of the aisle, surveyed Ignatius and then the other soothsayers.

  “Who let this boy take my turn?” she snarled, pointing to the soothsayers at the bottom of our podium. “Which one of you was it? Was it you, Freya? Or you, Katrina?”

  Both women shook their heads. “He came up on his own, Misha,” Katrina said.

  The woman marched forward and studied the boy. “And you’re spouting off about bad omens and death, is that right?”

  I’d had enough, so I rose. “Listen, I appreciate everyone coming, but this is over. I’ve heard enough from the soothsayers. Everyone can go back to their homes and return to where they came from. This is done.”

  From my left, I heard a gasp and glanced over. Amelia, who sat at the end of the row of chairs, turned to me, her eyes shining with tears.

  She lifted a broken compact mirror from the ground. “I don’t know how it happened,” she said, her voice full of apology. “But it slipped from my hands and broke.”

  Ignatius jabbed a finger in her direction. “See? The first omen has occurred. Everything is in play now. The chain of events has begun. With the first omen will come the second and then, the third. There is nothing you can do about it.”

  My stomach knotted. No, I hadn’t believed it at first, and part of me still didn’t, but now I was uneasy. My gut tightened and I cringed, gritting through the pain.

  Misha patted the air. “There may be something we can do.”

  “You can’t change the omens,” Ignatius argued.

  She shrugged, not impressed. “If the omens are a spell meant to give a certain child more power, then there is something that I can do.”

  He stamped his foot. “They are not a spell. This is the truth—what I saw.”

  Misha hiked a shoulder to her ear. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. But what I know is that I still have not gone. I haven’t given the word that I saw in my own soothsaying, the word that would best describe the child.”

  “Give a good word, sister,” Freya said, plumping her pink hair.

  “Yes,” Katrina added, “give the best word of all of us.”

  Misha wore long dark robes with heavy, bowl-like sleeves. She reached into one of the arms like a magician would before revealing his trick, and revealed a red apple.

  “That’s not poisonous, is it?” Axel asked.

  I elbowed him. “That’s just what I was thinking.”

  “It ain’t poisonous,” Betty snapped.

  I glanced over at her. “How do you know?”

  “Because I know, that’s how.”

  “That’s not very reassuring.” I clicked my tongue. “Now, if you had proof, maybe I would believe that, but after listening to that young evil genius over there, I’m not sure what, if anything, I believe anymore.”

  Misha spoke. “It is true that I cannot change what Ignatius has seen, but I can change who is affected.” She swirled one hand over the apple, sprinkling golden magic atop it. “Death can take any of us at any time and place, but it is not for the young to be stolen away. If death must take someone, then let it be someone else.”

  She tossed the apple into the sky, where it vanished. People in the crowd sucked air.

  Misha brushed her hands. “There. Now, if you really did see death in your soothsaying, boy, then it will still happen, but perhaps not in the way you believed.”

  Ignatius’s face turned dark crimson. “You changed what I saw.”

  Misha patted his shoulder gently. “You are young. Perhaps you interpreted what you saw incorrectly. It wouldn’t be the first time that a young soothsayer misunderstood the vision.”

  “I understood it perfectly! Gah! Now no one will believe in my talent.”

  She smiled kindly. “They will believe in your talent because,” she said pointedly, “if someone finds the death apple tonight, that means they will be the one to die.”

  The crowd gasped, and Misha turned to them. “Do not fear. Those of you who are visitors, do not worry. This will not affect you. It will only affect those of us who are directly involved.” She nodded to Ignatius. “That means you.”

  He choked on something invisible. “Me? What are you talking about? I’m only a child!”

  Anger flared in Misha’s eyes. “Yes, and even though you are a child, you must be responsible with what you say and do. You have upset the people here and they are now worried—once for the unborn child and again because they are unsure if the apple will be returned to them.”

  Yates flew forward. “The apple could be found by a soothsayer as well?”

  Misha nodded. “Very simply, yes. We are bound to this family”—she pointed to me—“by our words. We have given them what we’ve seen, and since one of our kind saw death, we are also bound to it.” She gave Ignatius a good once-over. “If the death was real, that is.”

  “It was real,” he yelled, purple-faced now.

  “Then pray you don’t find the apple.” Misha clapped her hands. “Unless anyone else wants to come forward with a soothsaying for the unborn, I suggest that the offerings of Presents Day be done.”

  We waited a moment and Axel spoke. “You may all leave.”

  “Or enjoy the festivities,” Betty called. “There are funnel cakes and fresh fried apple pies to eat!”

  I gaped at her. “You’re kidding, right? We were all just told that someone is going to die, and you’re hawking pies and cakes.”

  She shrugged. “Someone might die, and that’s if you believe the kid was right to begin with. Do you?”

  As people slowly drifted off, I caught sight of the broken shards of mirror lying on the ground at Amelia’s feet. Then I gazed at Ignatius, who was licking his palm and smoothing his hair.

  I stifled a bitter laugh and shook my head. “No, I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it at all.”

  CHAPTER 4

  A xel left us to head to the gym to work out, and I steered toward Familiar Place to open shop. As soon as
I entered, kittens started to mew, puppies barked and birds squawked, all happy to see me.

  “Who’s hungry?” I asked.

  We are, said a kitten.

  I’m so hungry I could eat a kitten, one of the puppies called out from the front window.

  I shot the puppy a firm look. “We don’t eat each other. We’re all friends here.”

  Says you, replied a gray-haired kitten.

  I moved to the cat cage that sat in the middle of the room and scratched behind her ear. “Now, now. That puppy was only kidding. He wouldn’t really eat you.”

  The kitten chewed on my fingertips. If he did, he’d be sorry.

  “I know he would be.”

  I set about filling food and water bowls before changing papers and cleaning cages. When that was done, I flipped over the Open sign and was ready for business.

  It only took about two minutes before the door opened.

  In walked my two aunts—Mint and Licky.

  Licky rushed over to me, her red hair streaming behind her. “Oh, Pepper. We saw what happened. It’s absolutely horrible.”

  Mint squeezed my shoulder. “We wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine. It was weird, but I don’t actually believe any of that. Do you?”

  My aunts exchanged a look. Mint spoke. “Of course we do.”

  “Ignatius never would have been here if he wasn’t talented,” Licky added.

  “There will be death,” Mint replied.

  “We hope that it’s no one we love.”

  Mint eyed her sister. “Or us, of course. It’s possible that it could be us.”

  Licky gasped. “Oh my gosh, you’re right. It could be one of us.”

  Mint’s hand shook as she brought it to her mouth. “We need a protection spell. It’s the only thing that will help us.”

  “Pepper, we need the heart of a cat for a protection spell. Can you give us one of your cats?”

  My blood ran cold. I raced over to the cage of kittens and nearly threw myself over it. “Of course you can’t have one of my kittens. There must be another sort of protection spell that you can work, one that won’t involve cat hearts.”

  I’ll scratch their eyes out if they try to take my heart, cried a black kitten with yellow eyes.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let them.” I directed my focus back to my aunts. “Mint. Licky. I appreciate y’all stopping by, but did you only come here to make me fret and worry? Because you’re not helping anyone and you’re certainly not helping yourselves.”

  Licky flipped her hair over one shoulder. “Pepper, we’re sorry. We didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “We just started thinking about the death apple, is all,” Mint said. “We’ll talk to Mama and see if there’s anything that we can do.”

  “And you promise to leave my kittens and all kittens in general alone?” I asked in a firm voice.

  “We do,” they said in unison.

  “Now,” Mint continued, “we’ll be on our way. But pray for us, Pepper. Pray that we don’t get hurt.”

  As they walked out the door, my heart clenched. If Mint and Licky were worried, maybe I should be, too. “Y’all,” I said to the animals, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  With that, I flipped on the Closed sign and headed to the one place that I knew would give me answers—Betty’s.

  When I arrived, I found that she already had company. Misha, the soothsayer, sat on her couch, a glass of iced tea in her hand.

  “Pepper,” Betty said when I entered, “have you met Misha?”

  “Not up close,” I said.

  Misha rose and took my hands. Her own were warm, and I could feel heat spreading up my arms. “It’s so nice to meet you, Pepper. How are you?”

  Funny she should ask. “Well, I was doing okay, but now, you know, there’s an apple that someone is going to find and it’s going to kill them and well, I’m a bit worried about that because what if it’s someone I love and care about? So even though I was doing okay a while ago, I’m not doing well now at all. Also”—I directed this to Betty—“Mint and Licky showed up. They sort of made everything worse.”

  Betty glanced over at Misha. “Should you tell her?”

  Misha released my hands and sat on the couch. “There will be no death.”

  I stared at Misha before glancing at Betty. “What are y’all talking about?”

  “The boy, Ignatius, doesn’t know how to interpret what he sees,” Misha answered. “He thinks that he does, but there are many meanings to the symbols that represent death. One of those is a change.” She pointed to my belly. “You are changing. The child is a change for you—a new life.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “So why didn’t you just say that?”

  Misha pulled her wavy gray hair over one shoulder. “Because that wouldn’t have adjusted anything. Ignatius would have screamed that he was right. You did see him, didn’t you?” she said with a wry smile on her lips. “He doesn’t listen to anyone. No one is going to receive the apple, and no one is going to die.”

  I sat on a chair and tapped my finger on the arm of it. “What about the broken mirror?”

  “Coincidence,” Betty said. “That’s all it was. Simple coincidence that Amelia would happen to have a mirror at the exact same time.” She gave me a pointed look. “This is your cousin that we’re talking about.”

  She meant that Amelia was, of course, clumsy. “So there is no death and Ignatius is a spoiled brat.”

  Misha smiled warmly. “Right. He’s only a child. My sisters and I planned our appearance the way we did because we knew that he would be present. Whatever he would say, it would be bad, so I opted to wait behind until Ignatius declared his soothsaying.”

  “Then you came out and changed what he had foretold,” I said.

  She looked quite satisfied with herself. “I did. The boy needs to learn how to read his signs.”

  I frowned. “Maybe someone should teach him instead of changing his predictions.”

  “He will learn.” She rubbed her chin, her fingers stroking a few hairs that curled on her skin. “In the meantime, no one will receive an apple, and no one will die.”

  “So that part was a lie, too,” I said.

  “Not a lie, just a stretch.” Misha rose and smoothed her long dress. “When the apple doesn’t appear to anyone, that will be the end of it. Ignatius will realize that he needs to calm down, that he must stop spewing about whatever he sees. Betty, I thank you for the tea. Pepper, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Dinner?

  Without another word, Misha left, leaving Betty and me alone. “So…do you want to tell me what the heck is going on here?”

  Betty frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, first of all, this whole Presents Day thing is a mess. We should have canceled it.” I jabbed my finger at her. “You told me that it would be a great, wonderful thing but it’s not. Someone’s supposed to die, but they’re not really going to die and now an apple isn’t going to show up even though half the town is probably worried that they’ll be the one who receives it.”

  Betty shook her head. “You shouldn’t worry yourself about all those things.” She slumped into her chair and dropped her face in her hands.

  Worry fissured down my spine. Betty never appeared upset or angry. I rushed over and took her hand, kneeling beside her chair. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s something.”

  My grandmother exhaled. “You’re right, Pepper. I should have canceled Presents Day. I should have told all the soothsayers to leave, that they should skip us this time. But I didn’t and now everything is a mess.”

  “I don’t understand. Misha just told me that there’s nothing to worry about.”

  Frustration geysered inside me. Could we rewind this day and start over?

  Betty stared into the fire, not saying an
ything.

  “You need to talk to me. Something is bothering you.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “Misha came to me looking for a spell.”

  “What sort of spell?”

  The door opened and in walked Amelia and Cordelia. Amelia dropped her purse on the couch. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” Betty said sourly.

  I shot her a scathing look. “Something is going on. Misha was just here and she said that no one is going to die, but now Betty is acting weird.”

  Betty’s face was ashen now, her skin shining with a sweaty sheen. The fire crackled behind her, and the scent of woodsmoke wafted up my nose. Warmth from the flames warmed my flesh, and moisture poured out from under my palms, making me feel like the room was closing in on me, that it was strangling me.

  A wave of nausea returned, but I bit it back. This was not a moment where I could stop and let my own feelings take over.

  Amelia and Cordelia sensed the trouble brewing in the house. They both came over and knelt with me beside Betty.

  “Old lady,” Cordelia said, “if you don’t tell us what’s going on, we’re going to assume that it’s the worst thing that could possibly happen. And I’m sure that you don’t want to do that to us. Now, do you?”

  Betty laughed bitterly. She clenched her fists and slowly rose. We moved out of her way as she drifted to the fire and stoked it with a poker. She stared into the flames for a long minute, long enough for my cousins and me to exchange worried glances.

  When she was done stirring the embers and they glowed a fiery orange, Betty turned back to us, her upper lip stiff as iron.

  “Y’all should know that Misha came to me and told me some very disturbing news.”

  “What would that be?” I asked, my breath ragged.

  My heart drummed in my chest, and the sound of blood filled my ears. I clenched and unclenched my hands, trying to work out the extra energy coursing through me.