Every beaker and tube was bubbling and hissing. And steam rose out of her mother’s gigantic cauldron as it hung over the fire, crackling and popping in the hearth. Maybe it was because she felt at home here, the place she’d learned she, her mother and Aunt Belle had called home until the end of her mother’s life. She’d never felt that kind of comfort at Aunt Belle’s cottage, even though it was full of love and all of nature’s beauty—the two things Belle most revered. Gia had worked here, in her mother’s witchery lab, for days, creating an entire shelf of gorgeous colored-glass bottles with charms and matching colored ribbons, each one labeled and filled with legacy-saving and preserving possibilities. The colors of the bottles, as well as some of their shapes, corresponded to the magick in the solutions she’d made. There were short green bottles and long slender ones, too, ensuring the Bishop Legacy’s prosperity and bond with the earth.
