15. Flying Lessons
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Flying Lessons
Iglared down at my computer screen, its LED glow harsh as the clock ticked later and later.
I was working on the last stanza.
Yet what she has bound may be restored
The ███ must be cut, the truth is the sword.
Sever each with the ███ laid bare
What comes unbound was always there.
There was one glyph Gertrude and I had been stumped on. It had only been recorded in one place—this ancient song—so we had nothing to compare it to for context. But as I stared it down, it revealed itself to me. I finally saw what it was. Two bodies, tied together by vines at the chest.
Just like the ones that had appeared between Hawk and me.
Now he’d helped me twice.
“The vines must be cut, and truth is the sword,” I mumbled to myself, typing more notes. “Sever each with the tongue laid bare.
“Rosemary or eyebright could be used to bring forth the truth, horehound could be the sword…” I typed them into my final recipe, and my software dinged, a perfect alchemic solution found in my database. We’d done it. We’d finished the spell. My stomach plummeted.
“Uh-oh, she’s mumbling. Must be something big.” Hawk appeared in the parlor doorway, two mugs of tea in his hands. We’d moved the research back inside since he’d finished fixing the greenhouse, and the humidity had returned to an unbearable level.
He sat down beside me on the chaise, pressing the warm ceramic into my hand.
“It is. I think…I think I figured it out.”
The bond went very quiet, and his wings pulsed.
Just once.
“So does that mean you know how to break the bond?”
“There’s still prep work to be done, but…now it’s getting everything set up for the spell. We have the chant, the ritual circle, and now the ingredients.”
“So you’re done?”
My fingers tightened around the mug. “I mean…” You got greedy, Lucia.
“Then let’s go celebrate. Didn’t you say there was a party in town this weekend?”
My heart sank. “The full moon is tomorrow. I don’t think we have time to—”
“Sure we do. Besides, you’ve been working on this nonstop. You need to get out of this house. Just an hour, I promise.”
“You’re such a distraction.” It was too easy to say yes. Of course I wanted to delay this as long as possible. I wanted to keep him just a little bit longer.
But I shouldn’t.
He gave me the saddest puppy eyes I’d ever seen, and that was more convincing than any spell. Like I could say no to that.
“I haven’t been to the Pumpkin Festival since…well, since I was cursed.”
“But you used to go every year, right?”
I had. Even after my family had moved out of Pumpkin Hollow to be closer to headquarters, we had always come back for the festival.
The memories were still there—of my brother and me bobbing for apples, watching the broomstick race together, betting on the winner.
I wished I could freeze them like a beetle in amber and not remember anything that came after.
I looked over at Hawk, his face etched with concern.
No, I wanted to remember, no matter how much it hurt.
Some memories were worth it.
“Okay, let’s go.”
His eyes brightened. “Yeah! It’ll be fun.” He got up and fetched my boots from beneath the coat rack near the front door. Then he returned, kneeling in front of me and holding them out.
I couldn’t help but grin. “Fishing for compliments, Mothman?”
I pressed my foot into the boot, then set it against his chest, raising my eyebrows expectantly. He laughed, and his longer fingers laced it up. “Just reminding a certain furry creature who your favorite is.”
From the windowsill, Mugen yowled in annoyance.
“Please, boys. I hate it when you fight.”
“He started it.” Hawk trailed his lips over my ankle, just above my boot, then higher, to the side of my knee, then higher still.
I pressed my other foot against his chest, pushing him back. “I thought this was a one-hour distraction.”
He laughed and helped me with my other boot.
I frowned.
“I’m a bit of a pariah around these parts. Don’t know how much fun you’ll have with me.”
“Don’t forget, I’m part cryptid. Crowds aren’t really my thing either. I had a bit of a different idea.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself.
He grinned at me. “Tonight will be your first lesson in lurking, boss.”
Here’s the thing about flying. In theory, any witch could do it.
All it took was a broom with the right enchantments.
Lots of us flew when we were kids because that was when it was easiest. In order to fly, your magic had to be light, still filled with the joy and wonder mostly found in youth.
Before the world and its rules and expectations weighed you down, boxed you into thoughts of “productivity” and “responsibilities.”
Most witches didn’t fly much past their early twenties. I hadn’t flown since the curse, as if my magic were rooted to the ground every time I tried. I’d retired my broom to its original purpose of sweeping the greenhouse.
Held now between my outstretched hands, parallel to the ground, it was taunting me.
“Nervous?” Hawk stepped up behind me, peering over my shoulder. “I know I always get nervous when I haven’t flown in a while. But it’ll come right back to you.”
Like it was that easy. Like I could just shake off the weight that had been dragging me into darkness these last five years. Like I could just rise out of the curse and the muck and the—
“Hey.” He set his chin on my shoulder, and his warm arms wrapped around my waist. “You’ve got this.”
I shook my head, hating the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. “And if I don’t?”
“Then I’ll catch you.”
The enchantment on my broom lit up under my fingers, like it really was that easy. Like just having him there made everything that had been weighing me down disappear.
Like with him, I was safe.
I nodded and stepped over the broom. My skirt swirled as the air magic in the enchantment churned, kicking up dust around my ankles. Hawk left one last soft kiss on the back of my neck before stepping away, and I kicked off into the sky.
Instinctively, I closed my eyes—then realized that might be a terrible idea with the number of trees growing in my front yard. I opened them and found myself floating even with the manor’s second-story windows.
“Hawk, I did it! I’m flying!” I looked down at the ground, and he was nowhere to be found. My heart skipped a beat as I scanned the sky. Then a flash of red drew my attention to the roof of the north tower.
In the faint moonlight, all I could see was the shadow of his wings and the crimson glint of his motorcycle goggles.
That and a smaller winged shadow beside him.
Both swooped overhead, blocking out the moon, and I willed myself higher, following them.
Above the treetops, Hawk looped back around and came up beside me, grinning. “I knew you could.”
Mugen landed on the front of my broom and chirped, expressing the same sentiment.
I scratched under his jaw. “We used to fly together all the time, didn’t we? You missed it?”
He meowed, stretching his back before taking off again and jostling me slightly.
Hawk caught my shoulder, steadying me. “First lesson in lurking—keep to the shadows and rooftops.”
“And the second lesson?”
He flew away until he was nothing but glowing red eyes and a grin that suddenly felt a little too wide.
“Let them see just enough of you to want more.”