The Crossroads - A Witches of Blackwood Grove Mystery, Book 3 (LARGE PRINT PAPERBACK)

Chapter 1
The woman, Mrs. Critz, handed me a crumpled wad of cash, then held her hand palm up. A half blink later, her other palm slid in next to it as though she expected I was about to give her something sizeable enough to require both.
“Where is it?” She stretched her hands further over the wooden garden gate.
I patted the satchel hanging over my shoulder, then made her wait. Beneath the glow of the half moon above us and aided by the small light clipped to my shirt collar, I first smoothed the wrinkled and slightly damp bills and then counted them, twice, to make sure the full agreed-upon fee for my service was there. It was. Satisfied, I pulled a small brown-paper bag, sealed with pewter-gray wax and stamped with a witch’s knot symbol, from the satchel. My mother had encouraged me to never show up at the orchard gate with a bag in hand.
“Keep it hidden,” she implored. “You’d be shocked by how many people try to grab and dash. Cash first. Repeat the instructions. Then give them the bag.”
Mrs. Critz frowned as I held up the little sack. “That’s it? I was expecting something more substantial.”
“Never judge anything by its size,” I advised. “It’s what’s inside that matters.”
She eyed the bag greedily, her fingers twitching to take it. “What exactly is in there?”
“Enchanted herbs, essential oils, crystal chips, and detailed instructions that you must follow to the letter, or the spell won’t work.”
She leaned over the fence this time, snatching the bag out of my hand and ignoring the little pulse of energy that indicated the magic had activated, then immediately began picking at the brittle wax seal as though she was going to perform the spell right there in my apple orchard. That was how this worked: I assembled the proper ingredients. The customer actually performed the spell.
“Not yet,” I demanded, stopping her from breaking the seal. “Wait until you’re home or someplace you won’t be disturbed. I encourage you to carefully read the instructions a minimum of three times. You will need to come up with a statement of intent—”
“Yeah, I made one.”
“Look it over once more before you begin. Mrs. Critz?” I waited for her to turn her focus on me. “I can’t emphasize strongly enough that you need to be very specific when stating your intent. What is the precise outcome you want from this spell?” I paused, waiting for her response. “Mrs. Critz, are you listening to me?”
“Hmm?” She looked up and pushed the section of hair that hung over her eye behind her ear. “Yeah, I heard you. This will take care of him, right?”
She had approached me to create a gray spell that would make the boy currently madly in lust with her daughter lose interest and leave her alone. Mrs. Critz insisted her amazing, beautiful Olivia had a brilliant future ahead of her, and this boy was distracting her.
“It will if you follow the steps exactly as I have written them. And remember that the enchantment on the contents of that bag will only last forty-eight hours.”
“Mm-hmm.”
My other customers looked me in the eye at this point and nodded in understanding when I explained how things could potentially go wrong. Mrs. Critz was focused only on snapping that seal and digging in. Note to self: Always review the warnings before removing the bag from your satchel.
“What did I just say?” I challenged her.
“Read carefully. Be specific. Two days.”
“Forty-eight hours from the moment you took possession.”
This was when most customers paused. They realized they were standing at a crossroads and, whether their intended outcome was good or bad, if they actually performed the spell, life for their target would never be the same again. That was what happened when magic was used to alter someone’s path.
I expected this moment to be drawn out even further with Mrs. Critz. She was, after all, about to cast a spell that would affect her daughter’s life. Instead, she turned and disappeared down the path, saying, “Got it. Thanks, Dusty . . . Ms. Hotte. This is going to make a huge difference for my Olivia.”