Ivy
Conall’s hand around mine feels warm and quietly comforting, even if I know it’s only for appearances. Laz heads into his cabin as we go up the stairs, following him to the tower. The cauldron is cold today, no purple flames, but there are even more books scattered around than last time.
Laz taps the open one in the middle of his desk. It's a green leather-bound tome as big as my head and thick as my thigh. "A renewal spell," he says, confident.
Laz’s silver-gray hair falls in waves around his face instead of being tied up like usual, and his clothes look rumpled. He really does seem to be doing everything he can, even losing sleep, to fix this.
"A renewal spell doesn't make any sense," Conall says, leaning over the book without dropping my hand.
"It does when it's a renewal spell for the wards over the whole island.
" Laz looks at me. "All spells are blood-based in some form.
Some only need a pinprick. Some require everything, your entire life force.
Ursula Shipton was dying. She'd made the conscious decision to stop fueling her life force.
I thought she was going to pass quietly, with dignity.
" He pauses. "Not Ursula. She went all at once on a large spell that took everything she had left.
The result was that after she passed, the wards started to fail.
I've been looking at destructive spells this whole time, harmful spells.
But renewal spells are about reinforcing the wards, updating them from their previous iteration, created over twenty years ago. "
"So my aunt used all her blood, right before she was going to die anyway, to renew the island’s wards?" I say it out loud because I’m still not sure I believe it.
"Yes." Laz places a steady hand on my shoulder. Conall growls, low and dangerous. Laz's eyes narrow, but he removes his hand.
"Then why aren't the wards working?" Conall asks, voice still a little rough.
"Because the spell didn't complete, and I think I know why.
" He flips the page and points to a line written in a language I wouldn't know how to decipher if my life depended on it, which is fine because he's willing to tell me.
"It's a two-part spell. One person starts it, then another of the same family line finishes it. "
Laz looks at me. I look back at him like a deer in headlights.
"No," Conall snaps, making me jump. His thumb ghosts over my knuckles in what feels like a silent apology. "She's not giving her life to finish some ritual, Laz. Are you really asking that right now?"
Laz leans against the desk, arms crossed, blue eyes sharp. "No, I'm not, and I'm insulted that you think I'm going to ask some mortal child to kill herself."
Anger flares up in me. "I’m thirty. Not a child. And if you’re talking about using my blood for a spell, I need to be part of that conversation." I pull my hand out of Conall’s. His hand lingers for a second, like he can’t believe mine is gone, then drops. Both of them look at me.
Laz inclines his head. "I'm two hundred, so forgive me if thirty feels young. And I apologize. You should absolutely be the main voice in this conversation."
Conall drops into the chair behind the desk, eyes locked on my face.
"The spell has two possible paths," Laz says. "The first finishes the wards with the new rules. The second reverses the spell and puts the wards back as they were." I think about that. Two paths. Before I can respond, Laz keeps talking. "Obviously, we'd like you to reverse the spell."
I look up. His expression is calmer, but his shoulders are still tight. "Why?"
"We don't know what she changed. If you complete the spell, it could do anything."
"Like letting more monsters onto the island?" I ask.
"It could. But we don't know what kind of monsters, or what parameters she set. And that might not be the only thing she changed. We wouldn't know until after you'd already done it. It's too much of a risk."
I exhale. Laz and Conall have lived here their whole lives. Who am I to argue?
"Can I think about it, or does it have to be done now?"
Laz shakes his head. "It can’t be done now. It needs a full moon, and the next one isn’t for two weeks."
I groan. Conall sighs, almost like he’s relieved, but that doesn’t make sense. Fixing the spell would free him from his protection bond to me. He should want this over as soon as possible. So why, when I look at him, is he looking at me with an expression that makes my insides twist and burn?
Outside Laz's, the sun is still high. I need to get to the store. Laz said he'd send word to Amy, magically. Sure enough, he'd pricked his fingertip, said a small incantation, and watched it dissolve into light.
Conall walks next to me, looking even more frustrated than before. The silence between us feels tense and uncomfortable.
After about fifty feet, I can’t stand the suffocating silence anymore. “What?” I demand.
Conall glances at me, shoulders bunched tight near his ears, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he’s trying to keep them restrained. His tail flicks in sharp, restless jerks. “What?” he echoes, voice flat, playing dumb.
“Laz figured out what broke the wards. He knows how to fix them.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. “Fixing them severs your protection bond. Everyone on the island will be safe, and you’ll never have to see me again. So why do you look more angry than when we arrived?”
He stops and turns to face me, crossing his arms over his chest like a shield. For a moment, something raw and desperate shows on his face before he hides it. My breath catches in my throat.
“You think I care more about that than I do about your safety?” His voice is low, rough, and almost angry.
Warmth slides deep in my stomach, mixed with a longing I know I shouldn’t have.
“You have to,” I whisper, “because of the protection spell.”
“Fuck the protection spell, Ivy.” The words rip out of him, sharp and frustrated.
He takes a half-step closer before catching himself, jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumps.
His green eyes burn into mine, dark with something I can’t name and he won’t admit.
“Laz claims this won’t kill you, but Laz lost most of his memories decades ago.
He barely knows what he’s doing half the time.
He’s been wrong before… and he’ll be wrong again. ”
The air between us feels heavy, full of all the things we won’t say. I hate how much I want him to reach for me. I hate that my body leans toward him anyway, drawn by something he keeps pretending isn’t there.
My heart twists painfully. If the protection spell breaks, he’ll finally be free of me. And even though that’s what he wants, I find the thought of it isn't the welcome thing it once was. I swallow hard, trying to ignore the treacherous ache blooming in my chest.
“But you need it to break. That’s what you’ve wanted this whole time.” My voice cracks despite how hard I try to keep it steady. “The spell breaks, the protection oath breaks, you’re free. That’s all you want.”
I don’t know why I’m pushing this so much, right here in the middle of the road. After everything—the island, the monsters, the close calls, Conall being his usual grumpy, closed-off self should be comforting. Something steady to hold onto. But instead, it feels like I’m coming apart.
“Not if it breaks you,” he says, the words dragged out like they hurt coming up.
My eyes widen and meet his. The muscles in his crossed arms tense, like he’s holding himself back from reaching for me.
His eyes are protective, angry, and something darker that makes my heart race and heat rise inside me.
We’re on the edge of something dangerous, something I want and fear at the same time.
Longing rushes through me, sharp and unwelcome.
“Why?” I ask, the word barely more than a whisper.
"Hi," a sharp voice cuts in from behind me.
I jump and clap a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. Dolly stands behind us, her hair in two buns, wearing a pink top and light pink jeans. She was probably just walking from her cottage into town.
"Jesus, Dolly, you scared the shit out of us," Conall says, his claws coming down from where he'd clearly raised them.
"Puppy says he is watching." I stare at her, but she goes on. "Nothing will get close to the house at night when he watches."
"Oh, um, that's nice, Dolly," I breathe. "Just out of curiosity, is Puppy a dog or…" Conall's expression is dark as he shakes his head. She smiles and loops her arm in mine, and we make our way down Main Street, Conall trailing close behind.