Leilani nodded quickly and snuggled more into Harper.
Wes cleared his throat and set down his knife and fork.
“I follow the druidic path, as do Kazimir and Tanner.” He shifted in his seat, looking slightly uncomfortable. Kaz shoved another bite of sausage in his mouth and chewed while Wes explained. “Druids are similar to witches, but there are significant differences. Witches can choose to have animal familiars. Druids can take multiple animal forms.”
“Any animal form?” asked Thatcher.
“No. The bond is very specific. One by water, one by air, one by land.”
“What can you become?”
Wes smiled. “Both River and I count otter as our land form, though as you well know, they also spend much of their time in the water.”
Harper broke in, “I was probably around seven when I realized what I felt toward anything with wings wasn’t normal.” He wrapped his arm more tightly around Leilani’s shoulders and spoke directly to Tanner. “Like, I could see out of their eyes, feel them in flight. But I never experienced anything like what happened with that giant bat, the feeling of bonding. I couldn’t stop talking about it. Ask Thatch.”
Thatcher nodded his head. “Oh, man, and every time we passed one of the really big trees on the trail we were cleaning up, we had to stop so he could check it for bats.”
“What about you, Thatcher?” Tanner asked.
My sixteen-year-old grinned. “Mom knows I’ve always liked four-footed, furry creatures. Squirrels. Feral cats. And I always wanted to go looking for mountain lions whenever one was spotted on the island.”
“But what about the raccoon?”
Thatcher fidgeted with the food on his plate. “I must be a late bloomer because it was only like, two summers ago, maybe, that I started following random animal trails. I got pretty familiar with this one raccoon and then her babies, and then one of them bonded with me. Her name is Pokey.” He ripped apart another hunk of bread and used it to sop up the last of the ratatouille on his plate. “Not sure how it works exactly, but if I think about them, the raccoons, they just…show up.”
“What about you, Leilani?” Tanner reached for another piece of focaccia and refreshed the puddle of oil on his plate.
“Growing up, I spent a lot of time in Dad’s greenhouses, but mostly I just love making food for people. It makes me happy.”
I touched Tanner’s thigh and spoke before he could. “I…we suspect you’re imbuing the food you make with your own kind of magic.”
“That makes total sense,” she said. “My dad’s kind of like you, Mrs. Jones. He talks to plants.” She rolled her eyes. “A lot.”
“Have your parents given you lessons, trained you how to expand your magic and use it for different purposes?” I asked.
“I’d say they teach by example,” she said, a shy smile turning her cheeks into apricots. “Dad grows food. Papa grows money.”
“Tanner says we’re all going to magic school,” Thatcher announced, beaming.
Leilani gave him a quizzical look. “Magic school? Like spells and stuff?” She turned to Tanner. “Is that something I can do too?”
Tanner cleared his throat first. “Yes, you can.”
She looked at her lap, the muscles in her upper arms flexing as she worried at her napkin. “Mal and James have always said I was special,” she whispered, “but I figured that’s what all parents say to their kids.”
“I’d like to meet them,” Tanner said.
Leilani lifted her head. “I would be happy to introduce you. When does magic school start?”
“Mid-September. We hold retreats on the mainland one weekend a month and have weeklong events in January and early July.”
I scanned the table. Plates were mostly emptied, and all the food was gone but for bread crumbs and juice from the cooked tomatoes. “Did anyone pick up dessert?”
Silence.
Leilani raised her hand. “I can make a lemon poppy seed cake, if anyone’s interested.”
“I think we’re very interested,” I said. “The kitchen is yours. Harper and Thatcher, you two are on dish detail.”
“I’ll scrape the grill,” Wes announced, starting to stand. He leaned across the table and poked Kaz. “You comin’?”
“I have to go see a witch about a potion.” Kaz’s eyes beamed. Tanner picked up his plate and the empty bread board and walked them to the counter.
“Before you do,” he said, speaking to the older men, “can I get you two to check out the bat with me?”
“Business before pleasure, boss.”
“Harper, coming?”
I begged off participating in the Q and A I was sure would follow the introduction to the mysterious flying creature hanging in my shed. Thatcher tagged along, assuring me he would be all over dish duty on his return. Leilani looked like she wanted to join in but returned to squeezing lemons and portioning out the ingredients for her cake.
“Did you want to go with them?” I asked.
“I’m a little overwhelmed,” she assured me. “Baking calms me down.”
A ‘little bit overwhelmed’ explained my current state too, and being in the kitchen with Leilani was calming. “Did you find everything you need?”
She nodded and poked around in the spice section of one cupboard, withdrawing a jar of poppy seeds, a shy smile on her face. “I know your kitchen pretty well, Ms. Jones.”
“Which means it’s time for you to start calling me Calli,” I teased.
Leilani smiled more confidently and twisted her hair into a messy bun atop her head. The oven pinged it was up to heat, and she returned her attention to measuring and mixing.
I took my refreshed water glass to the deck and tried to make myself comfortable on the swing. The cushion under my head had the consistency of a paving stone. I ignored the discomfort and let the low thrum of male voices guide me past the lumps of hardened pillow stuffing into a half-dozing, half-floating state.
Sweet, lemon-scented air wafted through the screen door.
A metal utensil clanged against porcelain.
Someone lifted my head and sat, adding their weight to the swing and tipping it in their direction. My head came to rest on something softer than a
