Chapter Thirty-One
By the time the night of the new moon arrived, I was a mess.
In the mornings, I woke up exhausted and at night, I was so anxious, I couldn’t sleep. At least that was one thing working in my favour as I watched the clock in my room tick closer and closer to midnight.
Sitting cross-legged on my bedroom floor instead of in the roll-out bed Ashley made up for her, Lydia was playing with a smoky quartz point as if she were conducting a single-person game of spin the bottle.
I put down the book I was pretending to read and watched as she paused to take a drink, pulling snowflakes from a glass of water.
‘So cool,’ she grinned, heartily smacking her lips.
‘Have you heard from your mom today?’
Her grin disappeared.
‘Alexandra is playing the yes-no game.’
‘Alexandra?’ I repeated. ‘Ouch.’
While Virginia had been promoted back to grandmother, Alex Powell was no longer afforded the privilege of being called ‘mom’.
Jackson hadn’t mentioned her absence at all and Lydia only suffered talking about her if forced.
When she ran out the morning after Lydia’s magic manifested, I was sure she’d come right back but she hadn’t crossed the state line back into Georgia one time.
‘Tell me again about the different kinds of magic?’ Lydia was a master at changing the subject. She rolled onto her belly, still toying with the smoky quartz point. ‘How many are there?’
‘This is as new to me as it is to you,’ I said. ‘Catherine could harness the elements. She told me about ancestors who could talk to the dead, others who were healers. Most witches specialize in one kind of magic. Yours is manipulating the weather.’
As evidenced again when she accidentally made it hail in the back garden an hour earlier.
‘Lydia Powell, weather witch.’ Snowflakes settled around her on the floor as she tested the sharp end of the grounding crystal against her fingertip. ‘I’m into it. I’m stronger than I was before, faster too.’
‘Do you need anything?’ I asked, checking the clock again. Almost eleven thirty. Almost time. ‘Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat? Do you need the bathroom?’
‘No thanks, mom,’ she replied, laughing. ‘What other abilities will I have?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Will I be able to see ghosts?’
‘No idea.’
‘Will I be able to hex people?’
‘Even if you could, you probably shouldn’t.’
‘Will I be able to fly?’
‘Lydia.’
I looked at her over the top of my book.
‘What?!’ She picked up the quartz and tapped it against the end of her nose. ‘I need to know these things!’
‘Have you ever seen me read someone’s mind?’
‘I haven’t seen you do a lot of things,’ she replied, waggling her eyebrows up and down. ‘Doesn’t mean you’re not doing them.’
‘Believe me, I’m not doing anything you don’t know about.’
Dropping the book on my nightstand, I checked my phone, finally working again but there were no messages.
‘Wyn won’t give it up, huh?’ Lydia hopped to her feet gracefully and launched herself onto my bed. ‘What a prude.’
‘Very funny.’ I tapped her arm with my foot and rolled onto my side. ‘Things are complicated enough right now, don’t you think?’
She pulled herself up the bed until we were face to face and rested her head on her hand, her elbow digging into the pillow.
‘Maybe but I hate seeing the both of you all tore up like this and don’t you dare tell me you’re fine because that dog won’t hunt. You want to talk about it? Unless the problem is Jackson because—’
‘It is not your brother,’ I promised, stopping her before she could start. ‘Not that he isn’t doing his best to wind Wyn up, but Jackson isn’t the issue.’
‘Good. I’ve always been a why choose girlie, but not if it involves my brother.
’ Lydia pulled a sour face and for a second I was genuinely concerned she was about to bring up her dinner.
‘All this macho nonsense would be annoying at the best of times but the way he’s acting right now …
he ain’t got the sense God gave a goose.
I’ve told him a thousand times, he’s never going to get between the two of you. ’
‘Could you tell Wyn?’
‘Please,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘If he didn’t love you so damn much he wouldn’t be so mad at my idiot brother.’
It made sense. If Wyn didn’t care, he’d be happy to have Jackson’s help.
When I wasn’t shut up in the craft room, trying to memorize as much information as the house and my ancestors were prepared to share, I was working with Lydia to manage her connection to the blessing.
The few stolen minutes I had to myself all went to Wyn but somehow, Jackson always seemed to know exactly when to appear and I never sensed him coming, too caught up in everything else that was going on.
‘It’s all going to work out for the best,’ Lydia promised. ‘And if it doesn’t, I’ll whip him up in a tornado and send him to Oz.’
‘Don’t make me hold you to that,’ I said, rolling over and reaching under the bed. I pulled out two small bundles, handing one to Lydia and keeping one for myself. ‘This is for you, put it on.’
My sewing skills were not the strongest, but I’d done the best I could without the help of a seamstress. When I’d gone to see the dressmaker who made my Becoming gown, she had altogether too many questions about my grandmother for me to stick around.
‘Oh, hell no!’ Lydia held up the very simple shift, examining it with extremely judgemental eyes. ‘What is this supposed to be? A pillowcase?’
‘It’s a dress,’ I said as I yanked off my pyjamas and pulled my matching dress over my head. ‘Be quick, we’re on a schedule.’
‘On a schedule for what?’
‘Can’t tell you yet.’
On my nightstand, my phone lit up with one single word.
Here.
‘Oh jeez, is this a witchy thing?’ Lydia’s excitement whipped up a gust of wind to make her hair dance around. ‘Am I getting my broom? Are we going to adopt a cat? I know black is traditional but I’m thinking more of a calico vibe.’
‘Lydia Powell, quit talking, put on the dress, and if you need to use the bathroom go now because we’ve got a long night.’
I gave her my best senior witch stern stare.
It had no effect whatsoever.
‘OK but I need to grab a soda on my way out, I’m kind of parched,’ she replied as she sailed into my bathroom, peeling off her clothes as she went. ‘Ooh, and a snack. Maybe some chips and if Ashley has any cookies left over, I would love something sweet as a chaser.’
All those hours I’d spent locked in the craft room, memorizing the language, practising the movements, so afraid I’d do something to mess up this moment. And Lydia wanted to take cookies.
‘Note to self,’ I muttered as I gathered my things and set off downstairs. ‘Be more Lydia.’