A Spell for Insight and Innovation
Sometimes, we feel trapped. This is a deceptively powerful charm to sharpen mental acuity and help you access ideas that might not have occurred to you otherwise.
Not a glorious working or a dramatic one, but there’s power in micromagic too.
One never knows how the ebbs of power will flow back toward us.
I tend to use this one right before I sleep.
My dreaming mind often crafts the most miraculous solutions, and I wake knowing precisely what to do when I was floundering the night before.
One thing I wish I’d known before I reached this age, my gem: It’s fine to admit you don’t know, even if you’re consulted by someone whose opinion matters.
There’s no shame in not knowing. And there’s value to be had in seeking a solution together.
Shared weight is easier to carry, and nobody is exhausted when they’re helping from their hearts.
I was blessed with the gift of you, but nobody provided a how-to guide or an answer key, so I’m doing my best to provide the tools you need to thrive.
This one is best cast right before rest, and go gentle with your spell work. You’ll need:
A small round piece of green tourmaline (substitute green turquoise in a pinch)
Pinches of cinnamon, ginkgo, and mugwort
A sprig of foxglove
Silver chalice
Clean rainwater
This working is a little different; there are multiple steps, so I’ll begin with the simplest. Place the foxglove and the tourmaline (or turquoise) under your pillow.
Steep the cinnamon, ginkgo, and mugwort in the chalice.
You can warm it with magic, but be patient and take your time.
You can’t rush creativity, or the results can be…
erratic. You might end up with an obsession to set off on a wild-goose chase instead of the outline of a brilliant notion.
Now, I’m no stranger to going off half-cocked, but in magical matters, it’s best to be entirely cocked to avoid unwanted consequences.
Once the components have steeped and the water changes hue, dip your fingers into the liquid and flick them across your pillow, three times in total.
The top of the pillow will be misty but not wet.
Flip it over so the anointed fabric touches the foxglove and the tourmaline or turquoise.
Now prepare for bed as usual, and brace for interesting dreams.
But you’re no stranger to those! Once, you woke in the middle of the night and crept out into the wildlands, desperate to speak to Nerys because you dreamed something bad had happened to her.
When I caught up to you, nothing would do but for us to go to her stream and check on her.
And while we were there, we saved her from being caught in the backlash of a hex gone awry.
Her stream dried to a trickle, and if we hadn’t been there to aid her in breaking that hex, something bad *would* have happened to her.
You’ll never go wrong following your heart, no matter where it leads.
Thea
I’m a terrible person.
Not because I regret what happened between me and Kerboros. But because I don’t.
After reminding Rosa of our quest, I should feel riddled with guilt. The others talk around me, but I can’t focus on the conversation.
Before, if you’d asked me, I wouldn’t have said I was this unreliable.
While technically I may not owe loyalty to a contract I signed under duress, I still feel conflicted about my lack of remorse.
I’ve lived my entire life trying to prove that I’m not a parasite, and yet despite my intention to protect Da at all costs, I’ve stumbled. Maybe even fallen?
No, I refuse to use that word. I can’t fall in love.
My heart thunders in my chest, burning through the energy I’ve siphoned.
This mistake—I wonder if should I call it that, considering how much I enjoyed myself?
Regardless, those stolen moments threaten everything I hold dear.
If news of my dalliance with Kerboros gets back to the Lord of Winter, it will go badly for my dad.
Fear lashes at me, but some greedy part of me also wishes Kerboros and I could pick up where we left off.
Though I’ve romped with people before, I never felt like this.
I don’t know what to do about it.
“I’m clean enough,” Rosa says, breaking into my convoluted thoughts.
“Me too,” Zeph adds.
I notice Kerboros angling an intent look in my direction, but I don’t meet his gaze.
And I think he’s taking that badly because when I steal a glance in his direction, his face is cast in its customary lines, all sternness and imperturbable angles.
Yet, somehow, I also perceive his hurt, buried so deep, I’m not supposed to sense it.
“I shall retire too,” Kerboros declares abruptly.
“I’ll be up in a moment,” I reply.
First I need to speak with Tara. If I can find her. Earlier, she said she needed to convince her family, meaning her father, about accompanying me on this journey. But I don’t think her parents dislike me enough to drive me out if I knock on their door.
To convey the illusion of relaxation, I linger in the water until everyone leaves, and then I dry off in a hurry, dress, and head to the family quarters on the other side of the public house.
They have self-contained rooms; at least that’s what Tara told me when we were younger.
I’ve never visited, but I suspect I can find it, based on her stories.
I follow my memories as best I can, and once I arrive at the suite I hope is theirs, I rap lightly, hoping Tara answers and not her father.
Fortune favors me, as she appears and steps outside, putting a finger to her mouth.
“Mum just dragged the old man to bed,” she whispers.
“Do you have a moment to talk?” I ask.
“Of course,” she says. “But we shouldn’t stay up too late.”
I fully agree with that, but the turmoil in my heart makes it difficult for me to settle.
Tara leads me back into the tavern, now closed for the night.
She pours us both drinks, cider for me, proving that she pays attention to the details.
Before she can ask, I spill everything. By the time I finish, my voice is trembling and tears stand in my eyes.
She takes my hand. “Thea. Breathe. Now listen to me…you have no relationship with this Devan. I’ve heard rumors, and I’ve comforted more than one heartbroken soul.
Devan’s a relentless flirt and seducer! Don’t give it a second thought.
You’re essentially a captive, and you had no choice.
You only agreed to this mess because they threatened to banish you. And because they might hurt your dad.”
“But that’s why I think I’m horrible,” I protest, hoping she’ll understand.
My dad is my whole world. I can’t believe I fooled around with Kerboros in the bath and risked Da’s safety like this. If anyone was spying—
“From what I know of your father,” Tara says, calmly cutting off my dire thoughts, “he’d be sad that you feel guilty. Mudge wants you to be happy, whatever that entails.”
“Where he wants me to be happy, I need him to be safe.”
“In an ideal world,” she says in a sorrowful tone.
I don’t know if Tara’s implying that it’s impossible for both to coexist—my happiness and Da’s safety—but she’s never been one to sugarcoat things.
And I can deal only with the reality I live in.
I sigh over a sip of cider, realizing this can’t be fixed with a confession, though it helps to hear she doesn’t think I’m awful.
“Thanks for listening.”
“Are you really not planning to tell me more about the steamy bath action?” she asks, waggling a roguish brow.
I let the silence build as I finish my drink. “It was the best kiss of my life.” Then I amend, “Several of them, actually. How about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
A shadow flickers in her usually cheerful demeanor. “I was. But Tempest broke it off rather suddenly. These days, I don’t know what’s going on with them at all.”
My eyes widen. “Tempest? They told us how to find you but didn’t mention…” I trail off, unsure how to phrase the rest.
“That we used to be together?” Tara guesses.
“Yeah. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
She tries to smile, but I can see she’s still sad about it.
I round the table and offer a hug, which she accepts, squeezing me until my ribs ache.
I rub Tara’s back gently, holding on until she lets go.
Da taught me that, along with everything else.
You don’t tap. You don’t fidget. You let the person you’re hugging decide when you’re done.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She sighs. “Maybe at some point. Tonight? Not really.”
“I did get the impression that they had some complicated feelings about your dad.” When her head snaps up, I realize that maybe I shouldn’t have said that.
“What made you—”
“Just an impression,” I interject. “It’s nothing they said. I’m probably wrong.”
Best not to mention that Kerboros caught the weirdness too.
Tara frowns. “How odd. I didn’t even realize they knew each other.”
“I should get some sleep,” I say, hoping I haven’t made things worse.
She rallies then and manages a teasing tone. “Are you sure? I do believe you’re sharing with Kerboros. Maybe you’ll finish what you started.”
I hate that she feels like she needs to hide the fact that she’s hurting, but sometimes pretending we’re okay is what lets us carry on. The kindest thing I can do is play along. “Now I regret confiding in you,” I joke.
“No, you don’t.”
I smile; she knows me too well, and there’s a particular comfort to being known. “Good night. See you in the morning.”
By the time I tiptoe into our room, Kerboros is wrapped in a blanket on the floor.
I regret that I won’t get to snuggle in bed with him, but I imagine he thinks the way I reacted earlier means that I regret everything.
He’s likely misinterpreted my actions, and maybe we’ll never share a moment like that again, one where he lets down his guard and allows himself to want.
I don’t know how I feel about that, but I need to rest while I can.
The bed is calling me, so I crawl under the covers and drift off, listening to the comforting cadence of his breath nearby.
Then I rouse to a thunderous bang on the door; it doesn’t feel like I’ve been asleep for long, and I hear Tara calling my name.
“Get up, get up! We need to get a move on, slugabed. We have to go shopping.”
Groggy, I comply and get ready as fast as I can. Kerboros is already out of the room, so we won’t have a chance to discuss what happened yesterday. Maybe that’s for the best, or possibly I’m a coward for thinking so.
It doesn’t take long for us to meet in the courtyard. As a group, we head toward the market back the way we came.
Instead of scolding us from the rooftops, Ragh offers a friendly wave. “Good to see you, friends.”
Tara turns with an astonished look. “What sorcery is this? I need an explanation.”
“Thea worked her usual magic,” Kerboros says, a hint of a smile in his tone if not reflected on his face.
And I experience a delicious frisson at his approval.
Hopefully, that means he’s not upset with me.
All the bustling and fretting has me hungry again.
Yesterday I got too distracted with the kissing to fully take advantage of Kerboros’s generous offer.
I fed a bit but not enough. Never enough. I’m so afraid of hurting someone.
It would be much easier if I knew anything.
Like how much energy I can draw without inflicting permanent harm.
When you grow up surrounded by people who are different than you, who don’t share your needs or traits, it’s difficult to articulate how confusing and isolating it can be.
No matter what I do, I may never find my place here.
I may always exist on the fringes, tolerated but not welcomed, except by a select few.
I trail behind the group. Since it’s early, the market’s crowd is thin, just a few fae here and there.
Tara rushes around with Rosa, consulting the pixie about her list, while Zeph is unusually withdrawn, on par with Kerboros.
Zeph’s behavior troubles me; they’re not being candid about their motives, and I wish I knew if they’re dangerous.
We probably can’t trust them, but I don’t have any concrete reasons for my worries.
Maybe I’m just hungry. Because I’m distracted, staring at their back, I stumble into someone who already seems wobbly on their feet.
In reflex, I grab their arm to steady them, but the moment my flesh makes contact, their energy breaks over me in a sensual wave, exuberant and sparkling; I’ve never known anything like it.
The high crackles through me, electricity in my veins as euphoric bliss illuminates my nerve endings.
More.
More.
More.
Hunger consumes me, blocking every rational thought. A creature of mindless need, I take and take and take—until my victim collapses. My lips peel away from my teeth, and I lunge, unhinged with vicious voracity.
Only the screaming breaks my focus.