Chapter 8

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As soon as Olefat was gone, Eadric and I hurried into the hut. We joined Grassina at the window to watch the trunk skim the tops of the waves. "That spell should put a crimp in his style, shouldn't it?" said Eadric.

"I hope so," said Grassina. She carried a black and green bottle to the window, where direct sunlight made it look diseased. "It almost seems a shame to let these go. The old witches are much nicer without their memories." Gesturing toward the shelf, she said, "Would you two like to help me with the bottles?"

Eadric grinned. "How can we resist?"

"I'll wait outside," said Haywood, and blew Grassina a kiss. "I'd just be in the way now."

"Thank you for all your help, my darling," called Grassina as the otter scurried out the door. "You were wonderful!"

We took turns smashing the bottles against the back wall, throwing them one at a time. As each bottle broke, the memories fled the hut in greasy, multicolored swirls. When all the bottles were broken, Eadric and I followed Grassina through the door, surprised to find that the sun was setting. We passed an angry group plotting their revenge on Olefat. Three witches had already set off in pursuit of the wizard.

We were crossing the beach when Haywood trotted over to join us. "Can we talk to your mother now?" he asked my aunt.

Grassina reached down to fondle his ears. "If we can find her. She may have left already."

We spotted my grandmother inspecting her broom near one of the huts. She had changed back into the black gown and pointy-toed shoes she normally wore.

"Mother, I need to speak with you," announced Grassina.

Grandmother swung around and glared at my aunt. "What is it? I'm in a hurry."

Slipping past Grassina, Haywood sat back on his haunches and stared up at my grandmother. "Hello, Olivene. Remember me?"

"By the breath of a cross-eyed bat, if it isn't that good-for-nothing Henley. So you finally found him, did you, Grassina? It took you longer than I thought it would, but then you always were a little slow. Tell me, daughter, what is he doing here?"

"Haywood and I still love each other, and we want to get married."

"So what's stopping you?"

Grassina sighed. "I've come to ask you to reverse the spell and turn Haywood back into a man. It's the least you can do since I saved your memory from Olefat."

Grandmother glanced at Haywood, who had chosen that moment to scrub his face with a paw. "You want a man, do you? There are enough men out there to pick from."

"But I want Haywood!"

This wasn't going at all the way I thought it would. Grandmother was supposed to be thankful and reasonable. Haywood was supposed to act less like an otter and more like a man. And Grassina wasn't supposed to lose her temper.

"Grandmother," I said, hoping to set things right, "I suggested they come. I know how much you've wanted more grandchildren, and I thought if they got married—"

"Why would I want another grandchild? The one I have is the greatest disappointment of my life! You refuse to follow the family trade, you let your mother bully you and you've never given a thought to what you want to do with yourself. When I was your age, I knew exactly what I wanted to do and I did it! You think everything should be handed to you on a platter, but life doesn't work that way. If you cared about your family, you'd live up to your responsibilities and learn to be a witch!"

"That isn't fair! I actually—"

"And as for you," she said, rounding on Grassina. "I may be old, but I haven't forgotten why I turned Horace into an otter in the first place. He doesn't have the talent the way you do. He comes from a family whose witches can't make a decent potion without reading it from a book. Forget about him. He's wasting your time and talents." With a wave of her hand and some foreign-sounding words, Grandmother gestured toward Haywood, who disappeared with an audible pop.

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