Chapter 6
LAYLA
A s soon as Costi and Calamus were gone, my new coven descended on me with three identical feral grins. I backed up, hitting the target on the wall.
“You’ve been holding out on us, Screwup.” Datura bounced on her toes, her curls tumbling everywhere. “You cast a mysterious super spell.”
Oliver rubbed his hands together. “ And you have a hot older brother who’s paired with the Mountain Circle’s favorite golden-boy spell caster.”
My mouth fell open as horror seized me. “I’m not related to Costi !” My face flamed at my outburst as confusion began to creep in.
“Oh. Ohhhh . Costi , is it?” Oliver chuckled.
Sativa laughed out loud. “That wasn’t an angry sibling thing. That was pure possessive frustration. Our Layla has that poor guardian strung out.”
I wished for fate to immediately turn me into compost and save me from whatever this was. “It’s nothing like that,” I said, waving my hands in denial. It wasn’t, right? Of course it wasn’t. “We’ve been friends since I was three years old. We just got attacked. We almost died. He’s worried .”
Sativa raised her eyebrows. “So, you don’t mind if I go for him, then?”
Absolutely not happening. I choked, unable to form words while my covenmates laughed uproariously at my expression, drawing annoyed looks from the witches in the practice space next to us.
“We can’t date guardians,” I hissed, looking around to make sure no one else heard me.
Oliver snickered. “Who said anything about dating?”
Sativa rolled her eyes. “It’s just some weird thing our parents made up anyway. Probably to make sure more spell casters get born. I’d give a guardian a try, at least once. I bet they’re good in bed, very athletic.”
“You would not,” Oliver said, and turned to me. “She’s been with the same three casters for over a year. They’re practically married.”
“Are we not going to mention that Grey had hearts popping out of his eyes and Blackthorn was about to murder him?” Datura gleefully piled fuel onto the raging trash fire.
“Oh no, we’re definitely going to mention that,” said Oliver excitedly.
“Rival fight!” Sativa and Datura howled in unison, pumping up their fists.
My face burned with embarrassment. My stomach lurched, and I swallowed down the urge to throw up as the magic I had pulled in wreaked havoc with my body. “I have to go.”
“Layla?” Sativa cried after me as I hurried from the arena.
I fortunately remembered the way back to our coven apartment, where I just made it before miserably retching up the remains of my fruit bar into the toilet. I gave brushing my teeth an attempt, took a tincture of willow bark for the pain, then crawled into bed fully dressed.
My head throbbed with unreleased magic, but at least the nausea had subsided. I would have a headache for several more hours at least. I couldn’t be sure how much I had pulled in—it was always more than I realized. I should have known better.
I should have been better.
I wished I was someone naturally confident like Sativa, and well put together like Holly. Anyone other than me—this cold and uptight perfectionist who failed at the single task life had requested of her. Someone who couldn’t even defend herself against mild teasing, who couldn’t control her magic whatsoever, who needed Costi to help her with everything because she had no clue how anything worked.
A screwup.
***
I woke up hours later from a deep sleep, feeling cottony and thirsty, but it seemed most of the magic had worked itself out of my body. My skin always felt sensitive afterward. I imagined it was from the magic evaporating out of my pores, but I had no actual understanding of how it worked.
I stomped to the kitchen, washing out a glass because there weren’t any clean ones and then filling it with water. My covenmates didn’t seem to be home.
Now that I wasn’t in pain, I was angry .
It wasn’t my idea to join Mountain Thunder. What made them think they could just laugh at me like that? There wasn’t anything going on with me and Costi anyway. Even if… even if I wanted there to be, he was an adult with an important role, and I was a hot mess barely out of school and four years younger than him. Not to mention the guardians would kick him out for even thinking about it.
His inked, muscular body, intense gray eyes, and the wicked grin hiding his golden heart came to my mind unbidden. He never talked about lovers, but if he wanted one, he could have his pick. The label of Troubled wouldn’t stop anyone at all if they got a look at him.
He certainly wouldn’t be fist-fighting his spell caster over me . There weren’t a pair of witches in all the Circles that would start a rival fight over me. The notion was ridiculous. I was beginning to realize that my new coven was absolutely obsessed with drama, and if they didn’t find some, they would make it.
I dug around on the messy counter and in random cabinets until I found a container marked Baked Rosemary Crackers with a date last week. I sniffed them to confirm that they were, in fact, recently baked rosemary crackers before nibbling on one absently.
I sighed, some of my anger dissipating. That was probably all it was. My covenmates liked stirring things up. This wasn’t personal. They seemed nice enough. I might have even appreciated their snarky humor if I hadn’t just fled for my life and had my world destroyed. If I made an effort to get along with them, I thought we could be friends. At least Sativa and Oliver seemed willing. Datura might come around if I didn’t let her get to me.
I took my bounty back to my room with a fresh glass of water and noticed a note on my door I hadn’t seen on my way out.
Sorry if we went overboard. Harvest party tonight, want to go? —S
Sativa left her number below, so I texted her with my response.
Hey, this is Layla. Sorry if I overreacted. I pulled too much magic and got sick. Yes to the party, let me know what time.
There. That was perfect. I’d go to a party with my coven and try to bond with them. Maybe I could find some fun gossip to share.
That sucks, Sativa texted back. Hope you feel better. We’re leaving at 9, you can walk over with us.
My mood lifted. Because of my summoning failure, I had missed all the graduation parties and had been drowning in stress since then. I could definitely use the chance to unwind.
It was only early afternoon, so I had time to kill. My mind automatically supplied me with a plan to go to the library and research familiars, which caused a flare of annoyance. Fate knew being dutiful had gotten me exactly nothing. No, I was going to go eat the worst junk food I could get my hands on, find a pretty dress, then waste my night away at the harvest party and get drunk.
I threw on some street clothes and stepped out the door. The witch with the shaved hair I had seen my first night was kneeling in the garden, pulling weeds. I paused.
“Hey,” I said, causing them to look up and smile. “Want some help?”
“Oh, sure.” The witch gestured to the unfinished section, where a huge number of invasive seedlings had started growing in the mulch.
“I’m Juni,” they said, waving with a dirty hand. “They/them, please.” They had a round face with expressive brown eyes—rare for a witch. We tended toward blue and gray.
I knelt next to them and started creating my own pile of pulled weeds. “I’m Layla, she/her.”
Juni grinned. “Don’t be weirded out, but everyone knows who you are.”
“That is a little weird, though,” I said.
“Are you doing okay? Mountain Thunder seems a bit, uh… they just graduated, and I think they’re going through a phase, you know?”
“Yeah, they’re a lot.” I looked around at the other apartment buildings that circled the central garden. “You’re in a coven?”
“Yup!” Juni pointed at one of the other apartments to the left of ours. “We’re the Dark Water Coven, six members, six years.”
“Wow. The Northern Sea Circle only has—had—ten spell casters total.” I dug out a particularly well-rooted weed with my thumb.
“Oh, we have at least thirty here, maybe even more. I think there are seven covens currently. Plus the new one with the rest of the Northern Sea casters. There are thousands of witches in the Circle.”
So many witches in one place—it was actually kind of incredible. “So, do you go out with teams and stuff?”
Juni nodded. “It’s not nearly as eventful as a big angel battle. I’m mostly involved in burning out infestations after the guardians find them.”
A less eventful life sounded perfect.
We pulled weeds without talking for a while. Juni didn’t seem like the type who needed to fill silence, and we settled into a peaceful rhythm. Warm sunlight filtered through the trees. My heart gradually resettled to the sound of bees buzzing around the late-summer garden flowers as we worked.
“Where can I find the unhealthiest food in the entire Circle?” I asked when we’d finished the bed.
With a conspiratorial smirk, Juni gave me directions to the main part of the community, which I had only briefly glimpsed this morning.
The Mountain Circle was beautiful. Houses crept up the sides of the hills, balanced by tall pillars, the entire community nestled between the rolling green mountains the Circle was named for. The walkways between the numerous buildings were bustling. Eateries, coffee houses, libraries, apothecaries, plant growers, ceramics studios, furniture builders, artists—everything a witch needed could be found here.
I checked to make sure my mother wasn’t among the crowds as I made my way to the cafeteria Juni had recommended. And just like that, I had found a reason to stay at the Mountain Circle. The buffet was incredible ! It was light-years ahead of the one we’d had back home, with trays and trays of traditional witch dishes, popular outside foods, and recipes that seemed like local specialties.
Grinning gleefully and not caring who saw me, I piled a plate with every fried thing I could find, fully intending to go back for desserts. Behind the cafeteria was a tree-lined courtyard crowded with pretty wood-inlaid tables where I found a seat to devour my hoard. A pleasant, warm breeze brought the scents of flowers, and the forest above the buildings made a beautiful backdrop.
I was about a third of the way to the bottom of my plate, concentrating on my epic task, when a shadow fell over my food.
“Layla,” said Calamus’s mildly surprised voice. “Are you eating alone?”
Costi’s spell caster, still in his formal wear, paused in front of my table holding his own tray of food.
“You could join me. Um… if you want to.” I swallowed nervously, thinking of Datura’s declaration that he was interested in me.
He set down his tray, looking from his nicely balanced meal to my glorious mess of carbs. I refused to be shamed. I had earned my junk food by almost dying.
“I’m glad I caught you. I plan on going to the library this evening to look into your invoking problem,” Calamus said.
“This evening? You’re not going to the harvest party?”
He gave an easy laugh that took his face from handsome to stunning. “Not me. Do you want to come to the library with me?”
“Oh! I was… going to go to the party.”
His smile stayed in place, but something in his eyes shifted. Disappointment, maybe? “Next time, then.”
“You really don’t have to go to extra trouble. I can check the library myself. I was planning to.”
“It’s no trouble, really. I’m a circlewright as well as a spell caster, so I often study in the evenings. I have a great interest in magical history,” he said as he cut salad leaves into smaller pieces.
“You do both? That’s impressive.” As an initiate spell caster, I had practiced a few circle spells, but most casters gave them up once they summoned their familiar. Circle spells were slow and time-consuming. Usually, only witches who couldn’t pull enough magic to cast would put in the years of dedicated study needed to become a competent circlewright.
Calamus dropped his eyes to his food as he smiled again. “I feel it’s important to have a well-rounded magical education. I hope to contribute something new to the body of witch knowledge with my cross-disciplinary studies.”
“I’m sure you will,” I said, my mind elsewhere. I had overestimated the amount of fried food I could cram into my body and was regretting taking so much. But I was unwilling to admit defeat.
“I’m very curious to hear about you. Tell me about yourself,” he said, raising his eyes to my face and recapturing my attention.
I pushed some noodles around with my fork and tucked a tendril of loose hair behind my ear. “There’s not much to tell. I’m just a typical witch. Nothing interesting ever happened to me before this.”
“Something tells me you’re not ‘just typical,’” Calamus said with a warm look that made me wonder if Datura wasn’t so far off about him after all. I didn’t know how to respond, but he cleared his throat lightly and continued. “Can you tell me about what happened with your familiar? Did it just stop answering your invocation?”
“Well, it never appeared to begin with.” My cheeks heated. “I worked the summoning circle… uh… several times, and it didn’t seem to work. But during the attack, I saw a spell form and was able to cast. Apparently, it was pretty powerful.”
“I’ve truly never heard of anything like this,” he said, a small line appearing between his brows as he pondered. “I definitely want to look into it now.”
“Thanks for your help.” I offered a shaky smile, then sighed. “I took way too much food.”
Calamus glanced at my ravaged plate without comment and cleared his throat again. “May I ask you about something else?”
I nodded, curious, and moved my plate to the side.
“You seem close with Blackthorn,” he started.
My wariness rose. “We’ve always been friends, ever since we were little.”
Calamus raised his eyebrows. “That’s unusual. It doesn’t bother you that he’s Troubled?”
“Of course not!” I bristled. “He’s always been the best friend anyone could ask for.”
He let out a soft laugh at my reaction. “You’re so passionate and warmhearted.”
I blinked. I’d certainly never been accused of that before.
“Maybe you can give me some advice, then.” He leaned forward, bracing an arm on the table. “I had a guardian previously, but the security coordinator suggested that I pair with Blackthorn instead because we’re both high level.”
“You don’t agree?”
“Oh no, we’re well matched. My casting is very strong. With a skilled guardian like him, I can take point in angel exterminations. But I don’t think he likes me very much.” Calamus looked lost.
Yeah, I could see that. The polished look, the smiling, the studying—Calamus was the golden ideal of witch society. Costi wasn’t the envious type by nature, but Calamus was everything he would never be. I knew it would bother him.
“He’s wanted to be a guardian his whole life,” I said after a moment. “It wasn’t just a last resort for him. He takes it seriously. He won’t jeopardize that.”
Calamus nodded slowly.
“He doesn’t always talk a lot, or smile, but he’s a good man. The best.”
He regarded me evenly. “I see.” He smiled. “He’s lucky to have such a loyal friend.”
I tried to return the smile. “I need to get going,” I said, pushing back my chair.
Calamus stood up with me. “Of course. Thank you, it was so nice getting to talk with you.”
“I’ll see you around,” I said, carrying my plate to the compost and dish collection.
I released a stuck breath as I stepped back out onto the walkway. Something about Calamus put me on edge. I wasn’t sure I could measure up to his standards.
That wasn’t fair, though—it was my own insecurity talking. He was kind, intelligent, and pleasing to look at. A spell caster.
You could do worse , my mind whispered.
Wasn’t Calamus exactly what I’d always pictured in a lover? I didn’t feel an immediate spark, but I’d just been through the worst few days of my life. Why wouldn’t I fall for those baby blue eyes if I got to know him better?
I found a large clothing exchange a few doors down with an open front displaying racks of outfits that no one was using. Witches would return clothes in good condition when they outgrew them or no longer wanted them, leaving an ever-rotating supply of new outfits.
Signs directed me to the dress section, and I scooped up a few party dresses to try on at home. I had a pair of sandals that would match any of them.
On the opposite side of the walkway was a tailor with a pile of fabric grocery bags stacked in front of their small booth. I picked a bag, and the large witch hunched over a sewing machine behind the counter lifted a hand in thanks without raising their eyes from their work.
My final stop was the provisionary. It was a slender but deep building with a single row of shelves on one side and banks of refrigerators on the other. The shelves and coolers were full of containers of prepared foods, where I picked up a tin of the same fruit bars Sativa had given me this morning, a bag of seasoned snacks, and a box of assorted cookies. I stashed my goodies in my bag and folded the dresses on top.
At the front, there was a carafe of iced, sweetened coffee and a stack of mismatched glasses, so I poured a cup to go and wandered back to my apartment.
Juni had abandoned their gardening at some point. I finished my coffee and picked up weeding another of the beds until the sun began to dip low against the hills and my covenmates showed up to get ready for the party.