Chapter 39
Nevan
Ipaced back and forth in my lab.
Cillian’s head laid on the table, cushioned by his arms, only his immaculate dark hair visible. “Flowers?” he asked in a tired voice.
“No,” I said. “You already suggested that an hour ago.”
Wolfe leaned against the stone wall, gritting out, “Well, if you hadn’t rejected every single one of our suggestions, maybe we wouldn’t have to cycle through them again.”
I stopped pacing. “What is wrong with you? You’d think you could come up with better ideas than taking her to her favorite restaurant?”
“Hey.” Cillian stretched out the E, lifting his head. “That was my idea.”
“There are two restaurants in Fairwitch!”
Wolfe sighed. “I have more important things to do. Nevan, you want my advice?”
“I thought that was the point of all this.” I waved my arms around my lab.
“Stop making it so damn complicated. I made that mistake with Niamh, and you know where it got her? Attacked by the brotherhood. I wanted to make some grand gesture, but all Niamh needed was to hear how I felt.”
I swallowed. I’d already told Enid how I felt, and it wasn’t enough.
The window creaked, and a sudden wind burst into the room. Papers swirled in the air, and I jumped to catch them, stuffing each one into my arms.
That damn window. You’d think a sentient castle could keep it closed.
“Uh, I think you might be out of time.” Cillian pointed, and I slowly turned.
My breath caught in my throat. Enid sat in the window ledge.
“I think that’s our cue.” Cillian stood, hesitating, then he looked Enid right in the eye.
Oh, godwitches. If he so much as said another negative thing about her . . .
“I’m sorry,” he said to Enid, and my mouth dropped open.
Enid didn’t say anything at all. She only stared at him.
“You’re good for my brother,” he said. “You saw what no one else saw, or what none of us wanted to see. You saw him. Thank you.”
I swallowed thickly.
Cillian stuck out his hand, and Enid looked down at it for a moment before stretching out her own and shaking it.
“Well, we should probably get going. I think you two have a lot to discuss.” Cillian moved toward the door that Wolfe was holding open.
My brothers gave me nods of encouragement before leaving the room.
I rushed to the window, dropping all the papers. “Have you never heard of a door?” I asked.
I expected Enid to scowl or give one of her snarky replies, but a nervous look crossed her face. I wasn’t used to seeing her nervous, and it made my stomach twist.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She just stayed on the window ledge, legs hanging over.
“Are you coming in? Or did you come all this way to sit in the window of my tall tower and give me a heart attack imagining you falling over the ledge?” I cocked my head. “How did you get up here anyway?”
Something brushed against my arm, but I ignored it, too focused on Enid, on what she was doing here.
“Nevan,” she started.
“No.” I held up a hand, thinking over Wolfe’s words.
Yes, I’d been honest with Enid, but I hadn’t said everything I wanted to.
I wouldn’t make that mistake this time. I wouldn’t hold back.
“I know you love me, Enid, and I also know you want to be with me. But you’re scared.
” A tingle spread down my back, but I ignored it, determined to get this all out. “Where was I?”
“Telling me I’m scared?”
“Right. Yes, you’re scared. And I get it. Because love is scary. But you know what’s scarier?” I took a step forward, that tingle now trailing down the back of my legs. I kicked out a foot and the tingle stopped. “A life without you. That’s far worse than any other fate I can think of.”
“I agree,” she said.
“And furthermore—” I held up a finger, faltering. “Wait, did you just say you agree?”
“Nevan, there’s something you should know about me.”
Something brushed my arm again, and I swatted at it, not wanting to look away from Enid for a second. Was there a damn fly in here or something? “Right, but first, I need you to expand on that whole you agree with me thing. Because I really need some details to follow that statement.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do, for fuck’s sake!” She pointed to something behind my shoulder. “Just turn around already!”
I frowned, slowly turning to see all the vines on my wall stretching out toward me. Like magic. Something tickled my head, and I looked up at the herbs, all of them wriggling and undulating. Similar to Vine. But they weren’t sentient. They weren’t magical. They shouldn’t have been moving.
I whirled to face Enid, who held out her hand, green sparkling swirls coming from her fingers. The exact same green that swished in that amulet around her neck.
“What are you doing?” I asked slowly, not understanding.
She looked like she was about to pass out. “Like I said, I have something to tell you.”
* * *
We sat on the bed in my room attached to the lab, and I stared at a book Enid had brought. It was splayed open in my lap, turned to a page with a picture of a woman with green skin, black hair, and long nails, along with a description of her.
Kaladenid was born of the earth godwitch and an unknown mortal.
Kaladenid. I’d never heard of that demi-godwitch. There were so many it was hard to keep track of them all.
Her birth brought about great happiness, for she was the firstborn child of the earth godwitch.
But that happiness soon turned to shame as Kaladenid’s powers morphed into something monstrous: instead of creating blooming gardens full of beauty or trees full of fruit, Kaladenid’s powers were much darker.
I’d read this paragraph at least twenty times now, and yet my brain was still having a hard time comprehending.
Kaladenid is the mother of poisonous plants. Everything her magic grows is deadly, toxic, an abomination, according to her mother. If you’ve ever encountered a plant that’s tried to eat you, poison you, or suffocate you, it’s likely you’ve had an encounter with Kaladenid’s magic.
Unsurprisingly, the demi-godwitch never cultivated a following like other more popular demi-godwitches. Instead, Kaladenid has mostly faded into obscurity, succeeded only by her creations. Next time you stumble into a thicket of poison ivy, you can have Kaladenid to thank.
I stared at the page, blinking, mind a chaotic mess of thoughts that I couldn’t catch onto. A godwitch. A demi-godwitch.
“Are you going to say something?” Enid asked, standing by the door like she was ready to bolt at any moment.
Kaladenid . . . Kala . . . d . . . Enid.
It made sense. Every part of this made so much sense. And all the details about Enid I couldn’t figure out, all the little oddities and quirks, suddenly became so clear. She was a godwitch. A demi-godwitch. Maybe the only one left. At least, I thought she was the only one left. I had no idea.
“Nevan, please say something,” she said, a quiver in her voice.
I glanced up from the book, studying her, the way she curled into herself, arms crossed over her stomach. “This is all wrong,” I finally said. It was the only thing that came to mind after reading those few paragraphs so many times over.
Her face fell. “I’ll go. Vine too. We’ll leave Fairwitch Isle immediately, and you won’t ever see us again. Just please don’t tell anyone—”
I sprang to my feet and grabbed her hand before she could move. “Don’t. Don’t leave.”
Her eyes widened in shock, fear flashing in them, and I realized how this all sounded. I’d scared her, and I cursed myself for not wording this better.
“What I meant to say was that everything that book said about you—it’s all wrong.
The godwitches, your mother, historians—they don’t know a fucking thing about you or your magic, and I feel sorry for them.
I feel sorry that they never bothered to get to know you, to see how absolutely glorious you truly are. ”
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she let out a small sob before collapsing into my arms.