House of Ivy & Sorrow

FORTY-ONE





Astrid Hemlock was not a good witch. I pore over her history all night, hoping to find some glimmer of hope, something to convince me that I don’t have to find Levi. Maybe she just did it wrong. Maybe there is a loophole, a way to be unConsumed. But it only gets worse and worse with each page. She was obsessed with her land, with the idea that people were trying to take it. She even thought the nearby settlers would kidnap her daughters if they stepped a foot out of her tightly woven magical barrier. But it was never enough. Never.


The villagers are gone, consumed by plague. They won’t bother us anymore.

I had no choice but to burn down the castle. No one claims my land.

An old man begged for food, but I knew he was a spy. I used his eyes to guard our gate.

I cursed the ground to only grow weeds, that way no one will settle here.

I poisoned the water.

I found a child in the gardens . . .


On and on it goes, Astrid laying waste to the European countryside ages ago. I can’t help but feel shame that I’m related to this woman, this monster. It isn’t any wonder that people feared witchcraft, what with this kind of stuff going on. Why is it always the bad apples that define a group?

Then I feel horrible, because I judge Levi based on his father all the time.

When Astrid’s pages end, I search for her daughters’ histories. I find Persephone’s first, and after a quick sleeping-spell reversal I’m in. This book is worse.


Mother is mad. She has not had a sound mind for years, and I know from reading other histories that she’s succumbed to Consumption. She doesn’t notice how it’s eating her away. Her once-beautiful hair is thin, nearly gone. Her fingers are black and rotting, as are her feet and teeth. In her sleep, when she sleeps, she moans and cries in pain. I suspect the magic is eating away her insides in return for taking more than she should.

Nothing in the world is worth her agony, and yet she won’t see reason.

Demeter and I hide in our room most days now. We know there is nothing we can do but wait for the magic to kill her. Then we’ll be free, and perhaps we can heal this land after she is gone, though it may take the rest of our lives to do it.


Eaten alive by magic. This does not sound at all pleasant. Nor does the evil, murdering insanity part. I may as well hand myself over to Jeff Anderson.

Or Levi.

The thought makes my heart shrivel. This should not be the better option, but as I watch Nana sleep in the recliner beside me I can’t imagine my life without her. And honestly, I have no chance of survival anyway, even if she wants to believe it. The Blacks probably wouldn’t let any witnesses live, which means Gwen, Kat, my father, and the Crafts are dead. I would be forced to live on, because I don’t doubt what Levi said about his dad wanting to leech off me for as long as possible. And the idea of Sylvia Black in my house . . . it makes my blood boil.

Surely being Cursed by Levi would be better than that fate. If anything, at least my friends would live. Nana would kill me if she knew what I was thinking, but what else can I do?

In the silence of early morning, my phone chirping sounds very loud. It’s a text from Winn.

Can you come over?

“Shit.”

“Who is it?” Kat asks.

“Winn. But I can’t leave now. . . .”

“Go,” Gwen says from the floor, where she, Kat, and Maggie passed out a few hours ago.

“But—”

“Go.” Kat rolls over. “Sometimes the answers come when you stop looking for them. Go work things out with your boyfriend. Relax a little. We’ll call if Nana gets worse, okay?”

I nod slowly, but only because this is the perfect excuse to go find Levi. If I tell any of them my plan—they’ll try to talk me out of it. But my decision is made.

“We’ll scour the spell books for anything that might ease her pain,” Tessa chimes in from the window seat, where she and Pru are still reading. “We might not be able to cure her, but maybe we can give her more time.”

“Take a little break, sweetie,” Nana whispers. “I’m not dead yet.”

“Okay.” I suck in the tears as I text Winn.

Sorry. Sick again.

My stomach twists at the thought that these could be my last words to him, that everything is about to change. I care about him so much, but how can I possibly be with him when I’ll be tied to Levi for the rest of my life? It’s not fair to Winn, even though it feels like my heart is crumbling inside me.

When I get downstairs, my dad is at the kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee. He looks concerned as he takes me in. “Did you sleep at all?”

I shake my head.

“Here.” He gets up and grabs a clean mug from the cabinet, pouring some for me. “I know you’re busy trying to save us all, but you need this at least.”

Giving a half smile, I lean on the counter next to him. “Thanks, Dad.”

His eyes go wide, and I hope my calling him that doesn’t bother him. I have wanted to from day one, but it didn’t feel like I could say it right off, even if I thought it. He smiles. “That’s strange, but I think I like it.”

“Good, because it’d be weird to call you my name.”

He laughs. “True.”

I sip at the coffee, savoring this moment with him. I hope my choice makes it possible to have many more mornings like this. That’s what I have to focus on—I might be losing myself, but everyone else wins.

I head to the apothecary after I finish my drink, pull out the ink and parchment, and try to steady my hand as I write, Where are you?

Levi answers quickly. At the Main Street park, waiting for you.

He knew. He always knew it would come to this, that I wouldn’t have time for anything else. As much as I don’t want to, I send one final line:

Okay.