Tav had been out on the bike before, arms locked around their mom’s waist, wind in their ears. But this was different. This time, the bike responded to their touch. As the road fell away under their wheels, Tav felt the bike becoming an extension of their body, a new way of moving through time and space. A feeling grew in their chest and then burst across their body, thrumming in their shoulders and heels. Escape. The throaty roar of the engine and the whine of the wind that couldn’t keep up — this was what power felt like. This was the sound of freedom.
The magic thread ended at a small building that looked like a fairy-tale cottage, with round windows and a tiny brick chimney with a curlicue of smoke hanging above it. Tav shivered with anticipation. A sign outside the cottage read The Sun. Another hipster café pop-up — not unusual in the city, but definitely out of place this far from the bustling streets and customers desperate for another hit of caffeine.
This café was the source of the magic. Tav was sure of it.
Tav dismounted, kicking the stand into place. They unbuckled their helmet and tucked it under one arm, staring into the round windows. Taking a breath, Tav stepped forward and opened the door. Chimes tinkled faintly, and a sense of calm washed over them.
The woman behind the counter had dark red hair and eyes that — Tav blinked, and then looked again.
The woman’s eyes were milky white with a thin, jagged pupil like a cut across the white. Tav tried not to flinch as those eyes crawled over their body.
“What can I get you, love?”
Tav walked forward and tapped their fingers on the counter. The magic hummed in their bones and made every shape and shadow come to life. They could taste the cedar in the air. They could smell the limestone bed under the soil.
Tav met the woman’s gaze. “Just coffee. Black.” They hesitated, and then forced the words out. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
The cactus on the counter began quivering, its single red blossom opening and closing in an undulating rhythm. The spines grew longer, twisting wildly. Tav stared at the plant and pulled their hand away.
“Oh, you are interesting,” said the woman, a smile unstitching across her face like it belonged to a rag doll. “I think I’ll have a coffee with you.” She leaned across the counter, until her alien eyes were only a few inches from Tav’s. “Of course I believe in ghosts, Tav — I believe in everything that’s real.”
Now —
“I believe in everything that’s real.”
Tav hoped that was still true.
The sign was rotting, the paint chipped and faded. They could barely make out the words The Sun, and the red paint, once cheery and reminiscent of child-drawn hearts and wrapping paper, now looked like dried blood.
Tav lingered outside for a moment longer, fidgeting with their keys, flooded by memories, feelings, and the overwhelming magic that radiated from the building.
It had been more than a year ago when they had first set foot in this space. The Hedge-Witch had taken them under her wing, had shown them magic, had promised an end to the violence that broke the city. Their time at The Sun had changed their life.
But all of their plans had hinged on Tav retrieving the Heart. What would the Hedge-Witch do when they returned empty-handed?
Tav breathed in the smell of freshly ground coffee and diluted magic. They had always been able to sense the magic in this space, and it had pulled them away from the small house on Church Street and the promises of a normal teenage life.
But Tav had never been normal. Finding the Hedge-Witch had been, in a small way, like coming home. The Hedge-Witch had welcomed them into their family of misfits and rebels, and for a while, Tav had felt like they belonged. Among humans and a witch and sometimes a ghost, those bodies who lived on the edges of society; the outcasts from different worlds, coming together to build a better future.
That goal had spoken to Tav. Tav was Black, non-binary, and queer, in a city of white men in business suits who bulldozed the poorer parts of town any chance they got and used their power and influence to destroy anyone who was not like them. Tav had been born into injustice, and they knew — had always known — that they would never be able to live in the corners left for them by those in power.
They would have to remake the world.
The Hedge-Witch had promised change. For over a year, Tav had run errands and delivered messages, tracking witches and assassins and ghosts, recruiting, following orders, listening, nodding, learning. Being told to trust no one, not even Cam. Told to speak to no one, listen to no one, except the Hedge-Witch.
The Hedge-Witch, with her plant children and her human lover. Tav had adored her. Trusted her. Choked down the doubts that filled their mouth whenever the witch told them to wait; that it wasn’t time yet; that humans couldn’t learn magic; that magic would destroy Tav. Had never let themselves question the Hedge-Witch’s intentions.
Until they met Eli. Until they discovered the magic within themselves that lay dormant, waiting. The magic that let them see ghosts and the essences of witches. Until they realized that not only could they see magic, they could touch it. Use it. They had opened doors between worlds. They had met creatures who were neither witch nor human nor object. They had fought monsters and fallen in love with monsters and come to understand that the universe was a much more complicated and dangerous and beautiful place than they had ever imagined.
Tav was not the same
