Spells for Forgetting

by Adrienne Young

“On a dark moon.” I read aloud. “In the right hand, the anchor. In the left, a stalk of henbane. Spoken three times over candle’s flame, with blood and seaweed on the tongue: ‘air to water, water to lungs.’ ” A sharp chill crept over my skin. “What do you mean it’s a spell for drowning?” “It’s not all blessings and abundance charms in that book, love. You know that.” She answered. “I suppose it was a spell crafted to drown someone. By the name it was given, I can guess it was a sailor. A fisherman, maybe?” I read the words again. “What is the anchor? Like on a ship?” “No. An anchor binds the spell to its intended recipient.” “How?” “It’s an item, usually. A possession. A lock of hair…” “That doesn’t make any…” The words disappeared on my tongue as it came to me. The necklace. A sick feeling roiled in my belly. “Oma”—my voice was brittle—“she had my necklace.”