Chapter 11 #3
Bas considered the question carefully. “Old.”
That was somehow worse, because she didn’t look old.
Brianna rubbed both hands over her face. “Okay. No cryptic ancient-being nonsense tonight. I need actual answers.”
“You opened a time fracture.”
“I know.”
“You altered history.”
Brianna swallowed. “We fixed it.”
“Yes. Most people would have destroyed it.”
That answer was different from what she’d expected.
Bas crossed the kitchen and sat opposite her. “You did something extraordinarily difficult, Brianna. Not merely magical. Precise. Instinctive. You bent time without unraveling yourself.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“The universe rarely waits for permission.”
Outside, snow drifted softly past the kitchen window. The old clock over the sink ticked loudly enough to become irritating.
Brianna stared at her tea. “So what exactly do you people do at that mansion?”
Bas leaned back slightly. “We help people conventional authorities cannot help.”
“That sounds suspiciously like vigilante witchcraft.”
“It occasionally is.”
Brianna blinked.
Bas continued smoothly. “We investigate supernatural threats. Dangerous artifacts. Curses. Possessions. Temporal anomalies.”
“Temporal anomalies,” Brianna repeated weakly.
“Yes. You.”
“That’s rude.”
Again, that almost-smile.
Brianna hated that she was beginning to like her. “I’m not powerful like you think,” she admitted quietly. “I’m an accountant. I do people’s taxes. I panic during phone calls from the IRS.”
“Everybody does that.” Bas waved one elegant hand. “Most witches have anxiety. Magic attracts people who think too much.”
“Well, that explains literally everyone in Salem.”
For the first time, Bas laughed outright.
The sound startled Brianna almost as much as the teleportation.
“You remind me of someone,” Bas said.
“Who?”
“Myself. Several centuries ago.”
Brianna nearly inhaled her tea.
“I’m sorry, centuries?”
Bas ignored that entirely. “You’ve already been using magic for years, haven’t you? You probably thought you were trained to use it wisely. But you cannot control your gift of time travel.”
Brianna froze.
“When emotional,” Bas continued gently, “electronics malfunction around you.”
“…Sometimes.”
“Clocks stop.”
Brianna’s face heated.
“People repeat conversations they don’t remember having.”
She looked up sharply. “How do you know that?”
“Because uncontrolled temporal magic leaves fingerprints. Small loops. Missing seconds. Repeated moments.” Bas studied her carefully. “You’ve been afraid of yourself for a long time.”
The words hit with uncomfortable precision.
Brianna looked away. “I thought maybe I was losing my mind,” she admitted softly.
“You are not losing it. You simply never had the right training.”
Silence settled between them for a moment.
“Are you saying you can train me to control this supposed gift?”
“Yes.” Then Bas reached into her coat pocket and withdrew an old-fashioned brass key attached to a silver moon charm.
“The mansion wards will recognize this if you choose to come.”
Brianna stared at it but didn’t touch it.
“If?”
“I don’t recruit prisoners,” Bas said. “You may refuse.”
“You’d just leave and not come back?”
“Yes.”
That surprised her more than anything else.
“No dramatic prophecy? No ‘the fate of the universe depends on you’ speech?”
Bas rose smoothly from the table. “The universe always depends on someone. Currently it appears to be held together by fools.”
“…Fair point.”
Bas moved toward the kitchen doorway, then paused. “One more thing.”
Brianna braced herself.
“When you arrive at the mansion, do not sit in the blue chair near the living room fireplace.”
“Why not?”
“It exposes liars. If I’m not there to vouch for you, the other witches might seat you in it and start asking questions.”
Brianna stared. “I’m not a liar!”
Bas stared back with complete composure. “A half truth is enough to trigger the chair.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I never joke about the chair.”
Then she vanished.
Just gone.
No smoke. No sparkles. No dramatic thunder.
One second there. The next second, empty air.
Brianna sat frozen at the kitchen table for nearly a full minute before grabbing her phone with shaking hands, and texted.
brIANNA: She came back. But she’s gone now.
DEVON: ARE YOU ALIVE?
brIANNA: Shaken, but alive.
FREYA: Do you need us to come over?
brIANNA: It can wait.
DEVON: What did she want?”
brIANNA: She offered me a job and warned me about a lie detector chair.
FREYA: What?
brIANNA: It’s okay. Everything makes sense now.
FREYA: If you say so.
Brianna stared at the brass key still sitting on the table. Outside, snow continued falling softly. Inside, for the first time in her life, the strange things happening around her suddenly felt less random. And, without the proper training, far more dangerous.
Author’s note
Don’t worry, dear readers, I won’t leave you hanging! That’s why I combined this book with the next and included the next pagan holiday called Imbolc. It’s halfway between Yule (the Winter solstice) and Ostara (The spring equinox).
Enjoy the rest of Brianna’s recruitment into the League of Amazing Witches!