Chapter 2 #2
Joell closed her book and said with a quietness that spoke of secrets, “I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but you might as well know…”
Crystal’s brows lifted, and she waited silently for whatever bombshell was about to drop from Joell’s mouth.
“The league has been watching you for years. There’s something about you… You and the sea. That’s probably what drew you to the Royal Navy in the first place. I was new to the league when you experienced the sea-witch encounter, but Bas filled us in… And then swore us to secrecy.”
Crystal’s lips thinned to a tight line, and she glared at her fellow witches.
“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice!” Brianna cried. “I’m new here, and nobody tells me anything.”
Crystal sighed. “Brilliant. What else have you kept from me?”
Joell crossed her arms. “Look, it was for your own good. They needed to watch for any latent water or navigational magic. They withheld the full file to avoid shaping your trajectory.”
Crystal focused on Sahara. “You knew about this?”
“Yes.”
“Magda?”
“Of course. Did you think our meeting was a coincidence?”
Crystal rolled her eyes. “Now I feel like a right idiot.”
“Don’t,” Sahara said. “You know the saying, When the student is ready, the teacher appears?”
Crystal didn’t respond verbally, but her slow nod let them know she was mulling that over while acknowledging the question.
“Well, you’re ready,” Sahara said. “You’re descended from sea witches.”
“Fabulous,” Crystal muttered.
A briny wind whipped through the library, ruffling the pages of open books and making the candles flicker.
“And just in time too, it would seem,” Magda added.
A sharp THUMP rattled the tall sea-facing windows before anyone could address Magda’s comment. The witches, except for Joell, startled. The fire gave an ominous crackle.
“That’s not the wind,” Crystal said.
Another hit, harder this time, made the glass shiver in its frame. Somewhere deep in the walls, the wards hummed low and menacing, like a big dog deciding whether or not to bite.
Brianna muttered, “If that’s another fake familiar, I quit,” and headed for the back door. She cracked it open and froze.
Standing on the patio was the hot plumber, dripping seawater and looking like he’d just wrestled Poseidon for a parking space.
“You again?” Brianna said, eyebrows arching.
“I need to show you all something,” he said, voice a little tight. “Figured I’d swing by. But, uh…” He shifted the bundle in his arms. “This was hanging on your invisible perimeter thing out there.”
It was a ragged snarl of fishing net, slick with seawater and something that looked suspiciously like black oil. Tangled in the mess was the limp body of a seabird, eyes milky, feathers clumped.
Crystal’s familiar, still on the mantelpiece, squawked, as if deeply offended.
She stepped closer. “That’s not a welcome basket.”
He gave her a long look, the kind where a man’s trying to decide if you’re going to answer straight or make him regret asking. “You got a neighbor into some weird coastal crap, or is this your brand?”
Joell took the net, careful not to touch the oily bits. “Sahara?”
“On it.” Sahara swept books aside, pulled a large ceramic bowl from a lower shelf, and dribbled saltwater into it from a corked flask she kept for emergencies like this one. She dropped the net in and murmured a string of words too old for the present company to understand.
The water darkened, the net sank to the bottom, then the water spun itself into a whirlpool.
Shapes surfaced. First, the silhouette of a woman, long green hair streaming in front of her face, blurring the details.
Then the vision morphed into another face…
A man Crystal didn’t recognize. Then the whole thing dissolved into froth.
The net hissed in the saltwater, as if it were being burned. “That’s not standard sea-witch magic,” Magda said flatly.
“No,” Sahara agreed. “There’s something else in the mix.”
The plumber had been silent through the magic, but now he shifted, boots squeaking on the hardwood.
“Not sure if it’s relevant, but when I walked up the path?
I thought I saw you.” He jerked his chin at Crystal.
“Out past the surf, standing on the water in the moonlight. Only it wasn’t you.
Clothes were wrong. Hair was like yours, but rippling like it was underwater. And here you are.”
Crystal’s throat went dry. “Yeah. That’s relevant.”
He held her gaze, the look in his eyes a mix of combat calm and something that might’ve been fear. “Then you should know, if she’s out there, she’s probably not alone.”
Nobody spoke for a long beat. The fire popped. The net in the bowl curled in on itself like it was trying to hide.
Crystal looked from the oily mesh to Joell, to Sahara, to the shadowed window where the black Atlantic pressed in. She already knew what she was going to do.
Before dawn, she’d be at the cove. Alone. Because she needed to know what this sea witch wanted with her. They’d be angry, but putting her friends and a hot tradesman in danger was unconscionable.