“Well, they haven’t raised kids. This is the age when you develop patience and learn how to negotiate with children. It’s challenging, but you’ll get through this phase. I promise. Call me when you need help.”

Aidan stands, his lips pressed tightly together, glaring at me like I’m enemy number one. He needs a touch of discipline, that’s all. This will be fun.

Tuesday after class, I drive to Agnes’s farm to work on my weak intuition. What a dreary day—blanketed in gray skies with a slightly cooler temperature. But I’ll take it. I’m not expecting a lot out of this training, because…it’s Agnes. She’s never been a mom. The front door is open, so I knock on the wooden screen. The foyer and hallway are empty.

“Agnes? Are you in the kitchen?” I ask, tapping again.

The house is quiet except for a few creaking floorboards as I make my way toward the magic room. That’s odd. The door is shut. What is she doing in there? I push on it slowly, and a bouquet of burning incense strikes me—lemongrass, jasmine, and honeysuckle. The graphite Archie put on the hinges really helped. No creaking at all. I peek around to discover the hedge witch with her eyes closed, standing on one foot, a crystal in each hand. How is a woman in her 80s balancing so well? I am impressed. So, I tell her.

“Wow, Agnes! That’s amazing!”

“Aghh!” she screams as she tumbles to the floor.

I panic and rush to her. “I’m so sorry. Didn’t you hear the door open?”

“Fuck no,” she replies, pushing herself up. “Why did you call out while I was meditating? You scared the shit out of me.”

I chuckle. “You? Meditating? Can those two elements even exist in the same universe?”

“Oh, fuck you. Have you ever tried to meditate?” She collects the crystals from the floor.

“Yeah. My mind wanders too much. I stress about all the work I have to do.”

“Well, that’s where we have to begin.”

“Why were you standing on one leg?”

“It’s supposed to provide focus. Except all I could think about was not falling on my ass.”

I crack up and brush debris off her loose shirt. “Are you OK? You’re gonna have some bruising.”

“Stop fussing over me, Gwyn,” she says, pushing my hands away. “For fuck’s sake. I’m old, not on my deathbed. Let’s work near the table, so we have something to balance against.”

Agnes shuffles to the worktable and sets her crystals on the wooden surface with the others. I move next to her, and she passes her hand over the colorful collection—amethyst, labradorite, moonstone, clear quartz, fluorite, and sodalite, and others.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Pick two of whatever you want. They all contain energy with various uses. You’ll have to try different combinations to figure out what works for you. I told you I never practiced this specifically. It requires super focus. You know I’m a wing it kind o’ gal.”

I chuckle. “I do. But I have no idea what to pick. I used crystals for a different purpose…to increase the length of my visions.”

“It’s a crap shoot, Gwyn. You’ll have to figure out what combinations work for you to strengthen your intuition. Even then, it may not lead you to this unethical witch who is aiding the Baby Nabbers.”

I examine the choices in front of me and decide on fluorite and labradorite. “I’ll try these, I guess.”

“Those two together are more likely to help with decision-making, but go for it,” Agnes says, flinging up her tattooed arms. “Hold a crystal in each hand and close your eyes. Focus on inner clarity. That’s what this grimoire states, but it hasn’t done shit for me.”

I shut my peepers and squeeze the stones in my palms, searching for lucidity.

“Breathe in and out,” Agnes says in a scratchy voice. “Absorb the energy from the crystals and find your center.”

My abdomen rises and falls as I take air in through my nose and exhale through my mouth. My mind wanders to the Pumpkin House, to the Celestial Gardens, to Jenny Hansen crying. Focus, Gwyn. Focus. In…out…in…out…in… My cell vibrates.

“Shit. I forgot to turn the volume down.”

I drop the crystals on the table and set the sound to silent. Agnes snatches my phone from me, scowling.

“Hey,” I say, retrieving the stones. “Be careful not to crack the screen.”

“You’ll get it back when we’re done.” She shoves my digital distraction into the pocket of her long black skirt. “Start again.”

I roll my eyes. “Sorry.”

For the next hour, I attempt to create more focus using an incantation my mentor recommends. I chant softly, “Ancestors, I call on you for guidance. My intuition is open and waiting for your assurance.” Nothing. I switch out crystals, trying different pairings. Sodalite and rose quartz. Nope. Agate and citrine. Meh. I toss them on the table. Lapis lazuli and celestite—only a twinge. To the pile they go. Kyanite and moonstone spark an internal tugging, but it whimpers out. I puff at my bangs.

Agnes squints at me. “Ready to quit?”

“What? I’m no quitter. I’m gonna try these two again.”

She snickers. “Good. Just checking. Focus on your breathing again. In…out…”

I recite the incantation one more time while Agnes’s voice fades, as if she’s whispering in the distance. “That’s it. Search for clarity in your thoughts. Find…”

I’m floating in white, voluminous clouds, reaching for passing birds as they fly by. A bright light breaks through, inviting me… My head nods, and I flinch, dropping the crystals to the floor.

“Did you fall asleep?” my mentor asks, bursting out in laughter. “This isn’t gonna fucking work.”

“I didn’t sleep well last night. That’s all. Too much on my plate.” I pick up the stones and set them on the table. “Meditating with them did not help my visions, either. I promised Archie, Mom, and Aunt Gorawen I wouldn’t use the grid again until I’ve increased my regular practice with them. Even if this doesn’t pan out, I’ll have more hours clocked. I should go. I have a load of schoolwork waiting for me at home.”

My mentor squints at me, pursing her lips. “Follow me into the kitchen.”

A wrinkle forms between my eyes, but I do as she says. She opens the cabinet where she stores her Bearsden Poison pot. I sigh.

“Agnes, I won’t smoke that again. Ever.”

She scowls as she pulls a shoebox out and places it on the counter. “You think I’d waste my good stuff on you after the first time?”

“Then what’s in the box?”

She lifts the lid, revealing a gorgeous amethyst geode with a rich purple color. When she lifts the precious gem, the nodules sparkle, hinting at a hidden magic.

“An old eclectic witch gave me this beautiful rock on her dying bed. She taught me the craft and everything she knew. But I had more success with the use of herbs and nature.” She opens my hand and places the purple gem in my palm, weighting it down. “I want you to have it. I never had a daughter. Never fucking wanted one, either. But if I’d had one, I would have hoped for a snarky, stubborn bitch like you.”

“Gee, Agnes. I don’t know what to say? I may cry.”

“Oh, fuck that. Don’t get all mushy on me. Who knows if this will help you succeed? But give it a go. You can report back to me when we meet after Samhain to sift through a few grimoires.”