“Will you be alright here by yourself?” Christoph asked. “I would like to tag along with Wessel and Kazimir. And to be there for Harper, too. Though he might enjoy a weekend without me hovering over him.”
I patted his hand. “I would appreciate you going. Harp seems really happy with his decision, and I trust Wes and Kaz but I can’t imagine what a weekend with Magical teenagers is like, especially with all those hormones.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I was also thinking you might enjoy having the house to yourself for a couple days. Just don’t get too used to it.”
“Oh, I’ll enjoy myself. And I’ll miss you all terribly.” I turned to fill my water glass. “I’m going to say goodnight to everyone and go to bed.”
The importance of daily rituals and maintaining one’s altar were drilled into me and the other witches-in-training at every session. After I brushed my teeth and finished in the bathroom, I closed my bedroom door and went to my closet. In lieu of a dress, I donned a nightgown made from bamboo T-shirt material. Though clean and soft, it had seen better days. I loved how it felt against my skin when I was completely naked. I lifted the straps off the big hook on the back of the door, stripped off my clothes, and pulled the nightdress over my head.
The day’s clothes landed in the laundry basket and I shut the door on my day.
My altar was next. I lit two candles, one to either side of the oval mirror, the same mirror I imagined my mother and her sister had stood in front of. After snuffing out the match, I went to the window, slid the curtains to the side, and opened the bottom sash. My office had a view of the garden and that entire side of the property; my bedroom faced the woods. When I took a step back, I pictured a narrow set of French doors replacing the window, along the addition of a small, private balcony.
I’d have to ask Christoph if those changes were within his building skills, and I would consult with House first. With the family’s burgeoning guest list, I desired a place where I could retreat, and House had sent a message earlier in the summer that they were loathe to allow any changes to the A-frame’s structure.
I lifted the screen and rested my elbows on the sill. The sky was clear and star-filled; the full moon a few nights away. Lifting my heels and leaning my head and shoulders out, I let my eyes acclimate to the lack of light. Trees came into focus. These woods abutted the property Doug had purchased. I shook my head. I did not need thoughts of my ex in my head tonight. Or any other night.
The giant bat that befriended Harper had returned and brought a friend. The two bats were hanging from the usual tree. I had seen the creature in the air once, circling the yard with another bat during the night of my Blood Ceremony celebration. While some events of that night were seared into my brain, other details were foggy. I hoped the bats would fly again at a time when I could admire their size and beauty.
Taking in and letting out another breath, I was acutely aware of Bear’s absence. The sting radiating across my upper back and the crinkle of the bandage reminded me I had at least one reminder of Bear’s presence. I missed the sensation of fur and the comforting weight of Bear’s presence.
Someone—or some thing—rounded the house to my right. No outdoor lighting on this side of the house left the thin strip of yard draped in shadows. They paused, and turned. Thatcher’s raccoons could have been visiting, as could any number of wild things. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stayed flush to my skin, my house stayed quiet, and I decided the night-time visitation was nothing to worry about.
Not everything that moved in and out of the shadows was bad.
I withdrew into the room and closed the screen all the way. I drew the window down halfway; I couldn’t sleep in a closed up room. The candles burned, and between the flames and the light reflected by the old mirror, my room was suffused in a golden light. On my altar, my new wand had completely absorbed my old one. The delicate vines it had sprouted to aid in that process had turned to metal, and had inlaid themselves into the shaft. My wand was making itself into a thing of beauty. I lifted it to my lips, kissed it, and placed near my mother’s Witchling Way achievement pins: a seal, an apple, and a bear. The bear made sense. The apple? I could have chosen that one for any number of reasons.
I now knew the seal was my father, Benôit.
My gauntlets and grimoire completed my sacred objects. I placed my palms on the book—my book—of magic, with its many blank pages. I had started to fill in what little I knew of my magic. At Maritza’s prodding, I set aside one section of the grimoire for memories, and one for dreams.
I lifted my gaze to the mirror for a moment, hesitant to look deeper into my reflection. I had been warned repeatedly about witches and mirrors and given the excitement of the summer, I was heeding all warnings.
Except for the little bell set off by the scratching at my bedroom door. I stepped to the side and opened the door a crack, expecting Jasper the furball to let me know he was hungry.
Instead, I got a different kind of beast, with a different kind of hunger.
Chapter 4
“Hey. May I come in?”
Tanner Marechal
