Chapter 7

7

LECTURE NOTES FROM IMMORTAL GENETICS:

Magic remains unexpressed and dormant until a witch’s eighteenth birthday—their Summoning Day. A goddess-chosen object will act as a conduit between the physical and non-physical world, unlocking your power upon contact.

T he chatter of witches sounded over the clinking of cutlery. The dining room smelled of cauldron-fried hog belly and something sweet.

The aroma woke Thessa and Leora from their slumber not too long ago. Thessa was on the other side of the kitchen today—her one day off each week, Saturdays.

The shared dining rooms between the two townhouses were filled with witches in the midst of their morning meals. Leora was beside Thessa; Ivy and Beatrix found their seats across from them. She waved to Rhetter and Noam seated at the far end, before pouring herself some tea.

The two long tables were filled with pitchers of sage water, woven baskets of bread, several sizzling plates of meat, and heaps of fresh berries scattered about.

Her evening with Leora had been late, so late they’d missed dinner and were stuck with the bread and cheese Thessa had scrounged up from the kitchen. So there they were, eating pig like pigs, with berry juice lining their lips.

Ivy and Beatrix were discussing their evening out, but Thessa’s mind moved elsewhere. She couldn’t stop hearing the voice from the spell.

Leora gave her a look, as if reading her mind. “You okay?”

The witches quieted around her.

Thessa asked, “Do any of you know about the Shadow Moon?”

Ivy eyed Beatrix before answering, “We’re Celestials, we study every moon.”

Beatrix started, “The Shadow Moon is the darkest of all full moons. It rises once every few months. Its purpose is to cloak the realm in darkness, so it can be born anew.”

“Like putting the world in a deep slumber to awake refreshed,” Ivy added.

Leora chimed in, “I believe it rises on my birthday this year.”

Thessa looked to Leora, wondering why they had yet to discuss this. “And when exactly is your birthday?”

Leora smiled bright, “One week from today. When’s yours?”

Thessa’s eyes widened, “My birthday is next Saturday, too.”

“Twins!” Leora exclaimed.

“A pair of Cancers,” Beatrix proclaimed, eyeing Ivy who was nodding. “No wonder we liked you two.”

Thessa was more confused than excited.

After their meal, she spent the rest of the morning by herself. With no desire to perform any more spells, and after promising Leora she wouldn’t, Thessa went for a walk into town.

Other than spending the evening watching the sun fade at Crescent Moon Bay, she hadn’t explored much of Mabelton since arriving. When her boots met the cobblestone streets, brisk air from the sea brushed her cheeks. There were no belligerent fishermen, shouting guards, or ship horns sounding off here. There were only seabirds, calm water, and a small, private dock. It was nothing like Gravenport, and that she loved.

Thessa walked past the water.

The elm trees grew sparse as the center of town neared. She passed an apothecary, several vendors, a slew of taverns, and gasped at what came next. She pressed her nose against the glass window. The male inside was splattering molten chocolate all over his creation. Drool threatened to fall down her parted lips. Without any Cheltz to spend, she spun around and ran across the street.

The signage overhead read, The Brew Leaf . Peeking inside revealed row after row of tea-lined shelves, nestled behind a wooden bar. The side walls were stuffed with books, while the space between offered wingback chairs and small tables.

There’d been nothing charming about Gravenport’s smelly fish markets, filthy gravel pits, and suffocating army base. These streets were the opposite. The sounds of cackling, conversation, and music only confirmed it.

Thessa noticed the same signs posted everywhere. “Summer Solstice Festival, the twenty-first of June. Join us on the greens behind the Mabelton Library. Event sponsored by the Mabelton Society.”

Also next Saturday .

A solar event and a rare moon; the longest day followed by the darkest night.

Of all the days to turn eighteen … Thessa’s skin prickled as her thoughts twirled. She was still unsure of what to make of everything, especially the riddle.

I am you, and you are me, well, soon to be.