Chapter 4
LAYLA
I had never visited another witch Circle before. A long dirt road led through a dense forest to an ornate metal gate, which had been left open. Our Circles were purposely in remote locations, both to keep the non-magical humans from discovering us and to be near the desolate places where angels were most likely to infest.
I gasped as I took in the scene before me. Beyond the gate, the Mountain Circle glowed with lights, hundreds of dwellings sprawling up into the silhouettes of the rounded hills behind it. It was easily three times the size of our Circle, maybe more. With the stars twinkling in the dark sky above, it was like something from a dream.
Floodlights had been set up, illuminating a wide field beside the road, where witches were busy setting up orange cones and tents. Costi parked the car in the grass, rolling his shoulder and trying to crack his neck as he got out. “No idea how I’m gonna get that thing back to the rental place.”
“Will they be mad?” I hurried around the vehicle to catch up with him.
“They’ll charge the Council a bunch of money, and I’ll get yelled at.”
Maybe we could find a way to fix the issue later, once we knew everyone was safe.
We approached a canopy that was coldly illuminated by a series of orb-like witch lights dangling from the frame.
“Another two arrivals. They’re picking up. We’ll probably see the influx soon,” the witch sitting behind the table underneath the canopy said into a two-way radio. “Your names?” He looked at us expectantly.
“Layla Rosen. Constantine Blackthorn,” Costi said.
The Mountain Circle witch looked at Costi’s uniform. “Guardians stay in the barracks. Turn left and follow the signs.” He shuffled through a stack of papers with a frustrated sigh. “Rosen, was it? You’re with your coven in housing block F. Go straight , and look for the one labeled F.”
“I… um…”
“Problem?” the witch growled at Costi and me when I didn’t move.
“Did you say coven? I’m not in a coven.”
He squinted at his papers. “Layla Rosen, Spell Caster, Mountain Thunder Coven.” He shrugged angrily. “I don’t handle the housing assignments. Just go there and figure it out later. Be happy you’re not in the tents.”
“What’s that all about?” I whispered as we moved toward the path.
Costi scowled, the cut on his face making him look menacing in the orange glow of lamplight. “Stressed out, probably.”
We stopped where the path split. I looked up at him. We’d been together ever since the attack, and now I wished I could keep him with me. I didn’t want to be by myself in this new place, especially after that lackluster welcome. “I guess… I’ll see you later.”
Costi hesitated, and we stood awkwardly for a moment. He looked as lost as I felt. I swayed with the overwhelming urge to hug him, curling my hands against my thighs. It probably wasn’t a good idea.
“Yeah. I’ll find you soon,” he said, then took the left path.
Adrift in the strange Circle, I moved along the lighted walkway that seemed to be a central path. Witches—all strangers—passed, not paying me any attention. The general mood seemed tense, everyone on edge after the attack.
I found housing block F, a square built around a courtyard with a dozen attached apartments. I swiveled my head helplessly. The coordinator at the gate hadn’t told me which apartment I was in.
The sound of a door opening made me turn my head. A stoutly built witch a little older than me with a shaved head exited one of the apartments, hurrying down the steps.
“Excuse me,” I said to catch their attention.
They stopped and looked at me. “Oh, hey. Are you one of the Northern Sea witches?”
“Yes. Do you know where the Mountain Thunder Coven stays?”
The witch looked horrified. “Fate bend me over, what for?”
“I’m supposed to stay with them. Is… is something wrong?”
They winced. “I’m sorry. No. Not really. They’re just… you’ll see. They’re in the first apartment, right there. But I don’t think anyone’s home.”
“Oh, um, thanks. See you around?”
“See you. Good luck,” the witch said as they turned to go.
I knocked on the door, but as the witch had said, no one seemed to be home, and the lights were off inside. I sat down on the steps to wait, resting after my walk. If I was going to have to go up and down these hills every day, I’d be in great shape in no time.
An assortment of solar lamps lit the courtyard, two large oak trees standing over a blooming garden filling the night with the scent of blossoms. Crickets chirped in the quiet space.
Nature remained peaceful, the world humming along even during the worst human crises.
My fingers moved to my phone to text Costi… but I hesitated. Holly was right, even if it had hurt me to hear it. I needed to learn how to take care of my own problems.
Instead, I sent a text to my mother letting her know I had arrived at the Mountain Circle safely, trying not to read her messages above mine. I didn’t mention where I was staying.
I sat for a few moments longer, conjuring up a plan to seek out something to eat, when a group of three witches around my age entered the courtyard, talking in hushed tones. They saw me sitting alone on their steps and halted.
I stood up to greet them.
“Is this her?” one of the witches asked, propping a hand on his hip. He was slender, with dark hair styled to perfection and looking purposely messy, with a pair of bright hazel eyes.
“You must be Layla,” said another. She was a tall and willowy woman in a short dress, with gleaming black hair. She was carrying a fabric tote bag in both hands.
“I guess we can’t get out of it now,” said the third witch, all sulky lips and dark eyeliner. A mass of dark curls tumbled off her head and billowed around her curvy body.
“Hello, nice to meet you,” I said with a smile, trying to look confident. They were all so well put together, and I felt like a mess. “I’m not sure what’s going on. The witch at the gate said I would be staying with you. I hope it’s all right.”
The three of them burst out laughing at a joke I wasn’t in on.
“Fate, she’s super polite,” the curly haired witch said.
“That won’t last,” the bright-eyed one said.
“I’m Sativa,” said the tall witch, rolling her eyes. “This walking fashion show is Oliver, and somewhere under all these curls is Datura. Welcome to Mountain Thunder.”
“I’m a little confused,” I told Sativa as the others opened the door. The group tumbled inside and flicked on a light while we kicked off our shoes.
The main room of the apartment was spacious enough, with high windows shaded for the night.
The comfortable-looking couch set was strewn with clothes and bags. A tiny counter and island made up a small kitchen area with a mini refrigerator, toaster oven, sink, and a water boiler. It was piled with dishes and food containers. The place was a disaster.
Sativa pushed some of the mess aside, hoisted her bag up onto the counter, and began removing containers of food. I hoped they were in the mood to share or could at least tell me where to go get some.
“They said there was a new spell caster in Northern Sea who wasn’t in a coven yet, so congratulations, you’re in a coven now.” She waved her hand at the messy apartment.
The Northern Sea Circle only had one coven of spell casters. How big was the Mountain Circle?
“Don’t worry, you meet every qualification. You’ll fit right in,” Oliver said.
“We don’t have any qualifications.” Datura rolled her eyes, grabbing a plate and starting to fill it. “No one else would want to be in this coven.”
“There’s literally no one else to be in this coven.” Oliver twiddled a spoon around in his fingers.
Sativa handed me a plate and a spoon. “Thanks,” I murmured.
“Aw, she’s all sweet and shy,” said Oliver. “She can be our little baby caster, and we can teach her to be a vicious angel killer.” He patted me on the head.
I was already a vicious angel killer. I had zapped a whole squadron of angels minus one. Even if I had no idea how.
“I appreciate you letting me stay with you, but you should know up front that there’s a reason I’m not in a coven yet.” I couldn’t let this go on without being honest. My face flushed in embarrassment. “I can’t invoke my familiar. It won’t… come out.”
“That’s a new one,” Sativa said, frowning. “Is it mad at you? They can be touchy if you mess with them.”
“Hooray, another screwup for the screwup coven.” Datura pushed a pile of glossy gossip magazines out of the way and plunked her plate down on the island to eat.
“Performance anxiety,” Oliver declared, twirling his spoon around to point it at me.
“Maybe,” I said. There wasn’t anywhere to sit, so I balanced my plate, trying to eat while standing. My injured shoulder ached. I mindlessly filled my mouth with some sort of potato casserole.
“Who thinks we’re going to get attacked next?” Datura sang with sarcastic glee.
Oliver raised his hand with a matching grin.
“Oh, here we go,” Sativa said.
I cleared my throat. “Our teams were pretty thorough. I don’t think there are any angels left to come attack here.” I swallowed back a wave of tears. I was so tired.
Datura left her empty plate where it was, and Oliver stacked his on top of it. They retreated to the couch in the middle of the room, each pulling out a phone and sprawling out together.
“I heard one of the Northern Sea casters did some kind of super spell that killed a dozen angels at once,” Datura said.
Oliver tapped his phone excitedly. “Ooh, is there video? Check the group chat.”
“Did you see the super spell, Layla?” Datura called.
I cringed with a painful self-awareness that made me want to disappear into the floor. Both telling them and not telling them was awkward. But I would need to discuss it. At some point.
“I’m… I’m sorry, I’m just…”
“Cool it, you two. She’s barely upright.” Sativa took my empty plate and stacked it on the counter with the others. She gave me an apologetic look. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
The apartment had four bedrooms arranged with a bathroom on a short hallway. Sativa showed me to a small, plain room with two beds, not too unlike the hotel the night before, but much homier. A wide window was covered with a blind. “You’ll have to share if we get any more members, but it’s all yours for now.”
I closed the door behind her and turned off the overhead light, leaving only the pretty glass side lamp on. I carefully sat down on the bed.
Aloneness and confusion pressed in on me.
Becoming a spell caster and joining the coven had been my life plan—really the only plan available. I never even considered anything else. I was supposed to team up with Costi, and we would venture around cleaning out angel infestations for a decade or so before I settled down with a nice, handsome spell caster from an exotic and far-off Circle.
My failure to summon a familiar, followed by the last two days, had delivered me into a nightmare and left me reeling. Would I ever see my home again? Were the angels somehow evolving to be deadlier? Would they come after us as Datura feared?
My phone blinked on as a message came through.
You okay?
One of the strings of tension in my body released.
I’m fine , I texted Costi back. I found the coven. Are you okay?
Fine.
I breathed out a silent laugh at his typically Costi reply.
I’d rather stay with you came the second message.
A wistful longing twisted through me, shocking me with its intensity and making my throat catch on a sob. I drew a shaking breath and forced myself to be calm. I could handle this. I would handle this. I just needed to rest and then do some thinking.
Determined, I pulled myself off the bed and crept out into the dim hallway, finding the bathroom to brush my teeth and clean myself up. The other bedrooms were closed, but I could see a strip of light under two of them. Oliver and one of the others chatted in the same scandalized tones that seemed to be their norm, but I didn’t pause to listen.
I changed into sleeping clothes and inspected the bed nearest the door. It seemed to be clean and already made up, so I slipped under the covers.
I’d rather stay with you , my phone displayed mercilessly.
I stuffed my head into my pillow and pushed the phone as far away from myself as I could.
***
COSTI
Barracks, huh? My accommodations had just gone from bad to worse. At least Layla would be safe with her coven. The other witches from Northern Sea were out in tents.
My new home was a cot in a white-painted room, shared with eleven other guardians. A rack for equipment took up most of one wall, a row of dark square windows on the opposite side. It smelled like sweat covered up with herbal cleaning stuff. It was empty except for one guardian.
Ash sat up as I tossed my duffel onto the bed next to theirs. They were still in uniform, their black hair hanging straight to their shoulders. I couldn’t see any injuries.
“Costi. Why don’t you ever answer your phone?”
I pulled it out and showed them the cracked screen. “Got into a little fight. No big deal.”
They smacked the phone out of my hand and sucked in a breath. “What in Hell’s name happened? What were you doing out on the seawall in the middle of the night with that spell caster?”
“Talking. Good thing, too, or we would have all been burned to a crisp in our sleep.” I sat on the creaky cot and pushed up my sleeve to examine the bandage on my bicep. The wound hadn’t bled through too badly. “I got wrecked. You okay?”
“I’m fine. Mostly. After we cleaned up your mess, I drove all day with the first evacuation group.”
“Did everyone… make it?”
They didn’t answer right away. My heart dropped.
“Not everyone,” they finally said. “Aspen, Myron, Kalmia. They… gave their lives. We didn’t lose any casters, and the angels never got past the wall.”
Shit. Three guardians dead. I used to sit with Aspen in the cafeteria. Myron was quiet, never saying much. Kalmia loved sunflower seeds and was always spitting the shells out everywhere. Three good lives ended—the first casualties in the war in a long time.
“Where did you end up?”
In a room alone with the spell caster I’m supposed to be avoiding. “One of the councilors had me evacuate Layla.”
They raised their dark eyebrows.
I looked back steadily. There was no way they could see anything on my face. “Not important. I heard the angels had weapons.”
“Yes. Some kind of lasers that could hit from the air about ten feet up. It was only thanks to fate that more of us didn’t get toasted.” They showed me a burn mark on their wrist.
I ran a hand through my hair. “What’s the chance they won’t follow us here?”
Ash barked a laugh. “Absolutely zero. We’re screwed. We’d better stay ready.”
The barracks door swung open, and black-clothed witches poured in. They were all Northern Sea guardians, about half of our twenty. Seventeen now , I remembered with a pang.
A giant of a witch named Bay plonked down on the cot next to mine. He gave an easy grin. “Blackthorn, Vervain. Glad to see you survived.” He pointed at the gash on my forehead. “That’s an improvement. Your face is too symmetrical.”
“All right, guardians,” called the middle-aged witch who followed the group in. Her hair was streaked with gray and pulled back in a severe bun. “I’m Tansy Daire, the security coordinator here at the Mountain Circle. I’ll be helping you get settled. I’m reassigning all of you based on your skill level.”
Ash caught my eye with a skeptical frown, and I saw others around me looking the same. Reassigning us without our input? That was… different.
“Our guidelines for guardians are similar to those of the Northern Sea Circle, designed to help you manage your Troubled natures and be a successful, contributing member of witch society.”
I couldn’t stop an eye roll, but Daire didn’t seem to notice.
“One: stick to your routine. A scheduled bedtime helps you regulate your energy. Two: reach out to me or someone you trust if you’re having difficulty. And three: keep your hands off the spell casters.” Daire grinned.
The other guardians chuckled at the third guideline. I ground my teeth together against a flare of annoyance. Witches were all about freedom and choice until it came to their precious spell casters. Then it was you better not contaminate that gene pool with your Troubled DNA and don’t you dare distract our casters from their noble purpose .
From the moment I got to the Northern Sea Circle, they told me to keep away from Layla. But I never could follow directions.
Daire continued, “I hope the Mountain Circle will be a new start for you. I’d hate to lose any of you.”
The Troubled were too violent, too moody for polite witch society. For the ones who didn’t respond to therapy, being a guardian was our last chance to prove ourselves. It didn’t take much to get thrown out.
“All right.” She clapped her hands. “I’ll let you get some rest—you’ll need it, we’re about to put you on rotation. You’ll get your updated assignments in the morning, and then there’s an assembly.”
When Daire had closed the barracks doors again, I picked up my shattered phone and tapped at the screen carefully, trying to text Layla to see if she was okay.
Ash scoffed, peeling off their boots. “That’s it? No one’s worried about another attack?”
But my mind was already on other things. “Ash. You know anything about familiars?”