Chapter Nine #2
She could have asked me for help, Katherine thought bitterly, but she immediately internally kicked herself.
She knew why Sylvia couldn’t take her help.
It was her lack of focus, her distracting anxieties, that made it so she lacked the precision for ward work.
Even when she tried to funnel magic into Sylvia for the spells, she did it wrong—too much or too little, too strong or too weak.
She was the only person Sylvia trusted, and her inability to get it together meant Sylvia had to do everything on her own.
It was her own fault that things had fallen through the cracks, and now they were facing the consequences.
Sylvia didn’t let it rattle her. She didn’t give Silas time to elaborate on the consequences, instead saying smoothly, “I’m sorry to hear that. I can strengthen those right away. We had a busy few days and maintenance got away from me. We had to rescue an unsettled witch in our city, you see.”
It was a smart deflection, Katherine thought—especially as Silas leaned forward, his face lighting up with curiosity. “An unsettled witch? Right here in LA?”
Katherine held back a scoff. Right here in LA? As opposed to where, the North Pole?
Sylvia nodded. “Yes. A young girl who snapped and hurt her brother. Katherine found her yesterday and brought her in. Once we’re done here, I’m going to drive her to our retreat in Oak Grove where she can learn how to control her power.”
Silas turned to Katherine, his eyes wide. “You found her? She didn’t hurt you?”
Okay, what the hell was wrong with this guy? You would almost think … “You’ve never met an unsettled witch before, have you?”
“Well, no, of course not. That’d be dangerous.”
“Right. Like they’re wild animals.”
She always forgot how ignorant witches from other covens were about unsettled witches.
They were rare enough that it was easy to ignore the problem, so long as you were all right with a freak accident every few years.
Noctis led by example, which meant that they followed the rule of avoiding unsettled witches entirely, deeming their volatility too dangerous to be worth the risk.
Of course, they ignored the fact that those witches were still out there, and without help, they were likely to get themselves killed. And it might not just be them dying.
“That’s not what I meant,” Silas said. “But unsettled witches’ difficulty controlling their magic results in extreme risks for people who—”
“For people who have empathy?” Katherine interrupted. “Who see someone in trouble and offer to help, instead of just burying the issue?”
“We advise that unsettled witches leave populated areas and isolate,” Silas said, although his voice wasn’t as sure as it had been in his earlier statements. “Once their magic has settled, they’re welcome to join one of our covens.”
“You know that these are kids, right? Fourteen, fifteen-year-olds. They’re supposed to live completely alone, no help, nothing?”
“I’m not—”
“Well, as I’m sure you know, I was born unsettled, and I am perfectly fine,” Sylvia interjected. “And so is the young witch I mentioned. She was in attendance at tonight’s meeting.”
Katherine knew why Sylvia wasn’t naming her.
The basic details of Katherine’s past were known by most of Aestas’ members, but aside from Fiona and Sylvia, no one knew the full truth.
She was a murderer, the blood of three teenagers on her hands.
Although Noctis’ policy officially welcomed formerly unsettled witches once they’d settled, there were limits to what they’d be willing to forgive.
They wouldn’t abide a killer in one of their covens.
So she kept her mouth shut, even though she was dying to jump in and be another slap in the face of the ignorant viewpoints Silas spewed.
Katherine didn’t know what she was expecting Silas to do at Sylvia’s declaration that there was an unsettled witch in their dining room—probably something along the lines of screaming “Back, devil, back” and running away in fear—but staring at Sylvia with open curiosity was not it.
Suddenly, he looked less like a privileged ass and more like an English major who had just come across a signed edition of their favorite novel at a used book sale.
“I apologize,” Silas said. “Clearly I have some internal prejudices and a lack of knowledge on this subject. Hopefully you will forgive my ignorance and allow me to use my time here to learn more about the larger witch community.”
If Silas actually turned out to be nice and reasonable on top of everything else, Katherine was going to smash something.
“But, while I admire what you’re doing to help young witches, the wards remain a problem.”
Oh, thank goodness. He was still a dick.
Silas ran a hand through the thick waves of his dark hair. “As you know, per the handbook Section D, Subsection 17, a coven whose wards are found lacking has one week to get them up to par, otherwise we will need to pursue Noctis intervention.”
Katherine knew what Noctis intervention meant. Noctis intervention meant Sylvia losing her job. Noctis intervention meant assholes like Silas and Byron taking over her home. Noctis intervention meant unsettled witches dying alone.
“We will get those fixed immediately,” Sylvia promised, and Katherine hoped it was true.
“There’s one other matter to discuss,” Silas said. “Can you tell me about Libertad? According to my records, they have over twenty members, but they still haven’t signed with Noctis.”
Libertad was the East LA coven run by Niles Cabrera, a former member of Aestas who had broken off to form his own group a few years earlier.
Katherine had first met him when she was an awkward, newly settled teenager and he was a twentysomething agitator yapping in Sylvia’s ear about the unequal distribution of magical wealth.
Libertad refused to sign with Noctis, sharing all of its spells with all of its members, with no restrictions—none of the favors or money that other covens demanded for access to the most powerful spells in their libraries.
Noctis, which ran off the tithes and payments other covens gave them in exchange for their advanced rune developments, detested Libertad’s existence.
Niles had recruited a couple dozen members in the last few years, but the coven was still held back without the support Noctis provided.
They had managed to scrounge together one spellbook, but it was sparse, every rune in it hard-won through years of dangerous, painstaking research, done without any of the resources or safety nets Noctis had to do their spell developments.
Despite Niles’ hatred of the official coven system, Katherine and Niles had formed a tenuous peace that had grown over the years into a solid friendship.
She didn’t want to expose him to the annoyance of Silas Khatri, but she doubted she’d have a choice.
Sylvia waved a hand. “Nothing to be concerned about. LA is full of hippies who hate authority. They just enjoy being contrary.”
“I’d still like to meet with them,” Silas said. “We want all covens to be able to come to Noctis for assistance if they need it. We share the common goal of helping witches thrive without detection.”
He was reciting by rote from the handbook again. Per that handbook, offshoot covens like Niles’ that refused to abide by Noctis’ rules were one of the biggest dangers facing witches today. Katherine supposed no one had told them about car accidents or drug overdoses.
“We’re happy to help facilitate that,” Sylvia said. “Katherine is our liaison with Libertad and can assist in setting a meeting with you and their head, Niles Cabrera.”
Silas’ intense stare landed on Katherine again. She itched for him to look anywhere else. “Thank you, Katherine.” She hated the way her name sounded in his mouth—corporate and clipped, with an overemphasis on the Kat part.
Sylvia stood, picking up a small piece of gauze from a stack in the corner of her desk and using it to stem the bleeding from her palm. She handed one to Silas, but he waved her off, instead pulling an ornately embroidered handkerchief out of his pocket.
“Can you give us a few minutes to discuss arrangements?” Sylvia said.
Silas nodded, then stood and stepped into the hallway. He was so tall that his head nearly grazed the doorframe as he exited.
Katherine sighed in relief as the door creaked shut behind him, her body deflating. “God, he’s a jackass, isn’t he?” she said, trying to cut the tension.
Sylvia shook her head. “No, he was perfectly polite. Which is more worrisome, if you ask me.” Sylvia ran a hand through her hair. “He’s the spitting image of his mother.”
Katherine froze in her seat. Sylvia was very tight-lipped about her past. All Katherine knew were the basics—she’d been born in Pennsylvania and had run away to New York City after she got her magic, leaving behind a neglectful family she had no desire to continue speaking to.
She never snapped, so she had no deaths on her conscience, and she’d even been able to be a part of Noctis for a few years before leaving to find a place more welcoming of unsettled witches.
Katherine knew she’d known Silas’ parents—the current heads of Noctis, Vikrant and Nina Khatri—and knew that they had been a part of why she had left, but Sylvia had never given her any details of the hurt she’d experienced.
Katherine hoped Sylvia might reveal more, but instead she started to shuffle around papers on her desk. “I don’t like that he’s here,” she muttered. “I don’t like that they sent their son, and I don’t like that they sent an Executor instead of a Bookkeeper.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Katherine lied. She started running through a list of the wards that they’d need to fix, trying to calculate the amount of magic they’d need.