CHAPTER FIFTEEN #2
Nyssa’s lungs constricted as she rushed over to the table, willing it to not be true. The three protective crystals were still in place around the box. Surely he couldn’t have …?
She began frantically searching through the figurines in search of the warlock. The cat was still there, as was the wolf, and the raven, and—
Air rushed back into her lungs as she found Morven stored in the small compartment with the rest of the figurines.
A part of her wanted to reach out and touch him, to reassure herself that he was still nothing but clay and magic, but the thought of him taking advantage of the connection to somehow use his own twisted power on her had her folding the board up and packing the game away instead.
She was just about to put the board game – and Morven – back into its box when her gaze drifted back for a final look at the figurines.
As they always did when her witch instincts were trying to tell her something, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and her fingertips hummed with the dormant energy of her magic. Look, it said.
At first, Nyssa thought her magic was urging her to study Morven again.
Nyssa cast her eyes over his figurine-likeness, searching for any signs of the warlock’s magic seeping through.
He was exactly as she’d left him, and yet …
Something still wasn’t right. It was like she was looking at a jigsaw without all its pieces, but she couldn’t figure out which ones were missing.
At least, not until a loud screech came from outside, and the reason why that damned owl looked so familiar finally clicked in Nyssa’s mind.
It can’t be …
Being careful not to touch the Morven figure with her skin, Nyssa wrapped him in a handkerchief to set him aside and frantically began searching through the rest of the figurines: the cat, the wolf, the bear, the raven, the small witch-like figurine that had always reminded Nyssa of her grandmother. There was only one figure missing.
The owl.
Nyssa let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
The crystals surrounding the game were still intact, glowing faintly with her warding magic, and yet there was no way a large, magically enchanted owl attacking Nyssa on the same day her equally enchanted owl figurine had disappeared was a coincidence.
This is all your fault.
It had been a while since that inner voice had spoken, and Nyssa instinctively recoiled against it, her fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her thighs as footsteps sounded behind her.
‘Nyssa, what’s wrong?’
Elowen knelt on the floor beside her, and when she noticed the whiteness of Nyssa’s clenched knuckles, she placed a hand over Nyssa’s, thumb rubbing in a soothing, gentle circle. ‘Nys?’
Nyssa went to explain, but all that came out was, ‘I did this.’
Elowen’s brow furrowed. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The owl, it … it’s from the game. Whatever I did to Morven must have brought it to life somehow.’ It was just like the failed ritual all over again: another spell gone awry with dire consequences for those around her. If they hadn’t acted fast enough, then Elowen could have been hurt, or worse.
‘I should have kept the game with me. I should have strengthened the wards. I—’
‘Stop.’ Elowen grabbed Nyssa’s face, forcing her to look at the elf instead of the game. ‘You don’t know this is your fault; you said Morven has access to all sorts of magic – maybe he did this. Found some way of casting from within the confines of his … current state.’
It wasn’t impossible, and the magic Nyssa had felt coming from the owl had been familiar, but …
‘If he did this, it’s because I put him in there. It’s still my fault.’
‘You didn’t have a choice; if you hadn’t dealt with Morven when you did, who knows what kind of damage he’d have already caused to Nighthaven and its people?
You did your best, and this … this is just a minor complication that we will deal with.
’ Elowen brushed a strand of hair from Nyssa’s face, her thumb gently wiping away a stray tear just as Nyx came into the room and rubbed her head against Nyssa’s knee.
‘We can fix this; but right now, you need to get some rest.’ When Nyssa opened her mouth to protest, Elowen cut her off: ‘Don’t worry about the owl for now; it still hasn’t broken through the wards around the cottage grounds, and Nyx and I will keep watch during the night.
You can go full badass witch on it tomorrow, when you’ve had a chance to sleep and clear your head. ’
Because if you try now, you’ll make a mistake.
The implication hung between them, thick and weighted.
Nyssa knew there was no judgement, no blame, behind the unspoken words.
Not from Elowen. But all of her old self-doubt came crashing back anyway, and even though part of her wanted to march out into the garden and return that damn owl to its clay form right now, another, more exhausted part of her knew doing so in her current state would likely cause more harm than good.
‘… All right.’
The words came out tired and defeated. All of the weight had gone out of Nyssa, and she let Elowen gently coax her upstairs to her room. Let her pull the covers up over her shoulders and give her hand a reassuring squeeze before drawing her curtains shut and turning out the light.
Her eyes drifted shut the moment her bedroom door closed.
Whether it was because her mind desperately wanted to escape itself, or because having someone care for her with the same unconditional, comforting love she hadn’t felt since she’d been a child under her grandmother’s care made her feely oddly safe, Nyssa found she was unable to resist the lull of sleep as it pulled her welcomingly into its embrace.