Chapter 7

ChapterSeven

“Have you heard parents in Wildecliff pay to have their children taught magic?” Belladonna asked. She tugged on her white gardening gloves and then looked them over one last time for any lingering dirt on the pristine fabric. “I think that’s absurd.”

Marigold stood next to her, tying her apron around her yellow dress so she didn’t ruin yet another gown their mother had made for her. “Why would they send them away? Isn’t their magic passed down through the families like ours?”

“One would assume.”

“Then wouldn’t learning from the people practicing the same magic give them better results?” Marigold finished her outfit by placing a single yellow daisy behind her ear. “Since they’re all so obsessed with being powerful.”

Thea reached into her pocket and thumbed the most recent letter that Alistair had sent her. He’d made it very clear that what her sisters said was true. Sunspell Academy stood on the edge of a cliff that overlooked the town. It was a monolith and a terrifying place where their professors wore smiles that never reached their eyes, and the students were all freezing in their beds every night.

She never wanted to go there. All her letters with him had only reminded her how lucky she was to learn magic in the old way. The best way, if someone were to ask her opinion on the matter.

“Are you ready?” Belladonna asked, her vivid green eyes catching upon Thea. “You’re the one who’s watching today, you know.”

“I know.” Thea shrugged. She’d never be able to make flowers or plants grow, and that’s all what today was about.

Once they were grown, she could trial her own magical powers. Her small gift. One that she was slowly learning how to be proud of.

Thea looked down at the gloves in her hand and sighed. She wouldn’t need them. She wouldn’t be sinking her hands into the earth to make anything grow, and she wouldn’t try to convince anyone other than herself to use her powers.

Tapping the gloves against her side, she decided it would be better to put them in her crossbody sling. “Browning,” she said. “Would you look after these for me?”

Her toad reached for them with his webbed fingers and hugged the gloves to his chest with a decidedly impressive look on his face. She’d even suggest that he appeared rather fierce, if it was possible for a toad.

“I’m ready to watch,” Thea said. Then followed her sisters out the door of their home.

The house unfurled the stairs for them and then let out a little rumble as it reordered some of the rooms. Thea wasn’t sure why it had started doing that, unless it wanted to confuse anyone who walked into their house looking for information about the family. But there was no reason to do that, was there? Her mother hadn’t gotten involved in any of the local politics, and she was well known for being a kind woman willing to help any who needed it.

Still, her stomach twisted into a knot every time the house made that noise. It made her think the house was preparing for something she didn’t know about.

Their mother waited for them in the gardens. Máthair’s wild hair was unbound, and the loose curls blew in the wind around her. Her back was to her daughters, arms raised as she spoke to the elements. Thea could already see a cloud in the distance, ready to rain upon the earth that her sisters stirred up and prepared for harvest.

There was a lot of work to do today. The village had been unfortunately invaded by weedles, which had destroyed many of their crops for the year. Not theirs, though. Never her family’s.

Her mother turned, and it was like the sun had come out on a stormy day. The bright smile on her face illuminated the world. The way magic coiled around her fingers in green tendrils of vines reminded her daughters how powerful she was.

Thea took a deep breath and let it out with a long sigh. She’d always been so fascinated by her mother. This was the powerful witch she’d always hoped to be someday. And even if her powers would never compare to her mother’s exceptional abilities, she hoped she’d get a fraction of it.

“Daughters!” Máthair called out, opening her arms wide. “I hope you’re ready to learn magic today!”

Belladonna and Marigold walked through the garden, each of them ready to cast spells that would feed the entire village for the winter. Thea sat down nearby on a small hill where she wouldn’t get in the way.

Just watching them was enough, she told herself. She should be happy with the chance to watch.

At least, that was until another body hit the ground beside her. The young woman lay on her stomach, chestnut-colored hair brightly illuminating her face as she chewed on a small strand of grass. The sun had turned the ends of her curls bright orange this year, Thea noticed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, hoping her mother didn’t notice that they had an unwelcome visitor. “You know mother doesn’t like it when people watch.”

The young woman looked up at her, and all the freckles dotting her cheeks had spread even further until there were hundreds across her cheeks. “So? If she doesn’t want me here, she can kick me out. I just wanted to fill you in on the newest and brightest love interest in my life. I know how you so enjoy listening to all my wild and crazy tales.”

“Clodagh,” she hissed. “I’m supposed to be paying attention.”

“To what?” Clodagh waved a hand at her family. “You’re never going to do what they’re doing. Not unless you go to Wildecliff and get their kind of magical instruction, which I don’t think any of us want.”

Did Clodagh... Did she know about the letters Thea had been sending? Was that why she brought up Wildecliff?

Shifting on the grass, Thea focused all her attention on her lifelong friend. “Why would you mention Wildecliff?”

“Because everyone knows they teach them to do more than their small gift.”

No one knew that. Thea had only heard it from Alistair, which made her even more suspicious that her friend had been sneaking into her room and reading the letters. And maybe that was why the house had started rearranging itself because this little freckled imp was getting into Thea’s things!

“If you’ve been sneaking again—” she started, only to be interrupted when Clodagh lifted her hand.

“I know, I know. I’ve suddenly become so much more knowledgeable in a short amount of time. And if only you would listen, then you would understand why. There’s a lovely young lady in Wildecliff I met the other day while my Da and I were delivering goods across the river. She’s got eyes like the sky and skin so smooth you’d think it was porcelain.” Clodagh touched a couple of fingers to her freckled cheeks before sighing. “My skin will never look like that.”

“Maybe if you became a cave person.” Thank all the gods and goddesses she’d been wrong. Thea would have had to slap Clodagh for going through her things, and she didn’t want to do that. “What’s all this about a lovely lady?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Clodagh rolled onto her back and spread her fingers up to the sky. “We’ve been meeting in the river almost every night this week! You know how Da doesn’t mind if I take the boat at night.”

That wasn’t true at all. Clodagh’s father had tanned her hide the last time he’d found out she’d stolen his boat. Thea would never forget the bruises on Clodagh’s back that had looked so horrible and purple for weeks.

But Clodagh had never feared her father. She would rather go against everything he wanted her to be rather than follow any of his words to the letter. And that was how their relationship went, apparently.

“All right,” Thea muttered. “So you’ve met another person to fill your empty head with thoughts. I thought you were interested in Callum, down the way. The baker’s boy, wasn’t it?”

“Tsk.” Clodagh hissed out a long breath as though Thea had suggested she be interested in a goat. “He smelled of brine all the time. He’s a baker’s boy! Shouldn’t he smell rather sweet? The boy was disgusting, and I had forgotten that I sometimes find boys to be all too sticky for my tastes. Women, however, now those are the ones who smell like flowers and sweetgrass.”

Not true at all. Thea had smelled herself after a hard day in the gardens, and she reeked. She could clear a crowd with that smell; she was quite certain of it.

But her friend was in another one of her trances and found herself, yet again, in love with another person who likely wouldn’t ever fall in love with her. Clodagh liked the impossible partners, which meant people who didn’t give her a second thought unless she stood right in front of them.

“So, what are you going to do about this one?” Thea asked. She glanced over at her mother and sisters, but they were so busy weaving magic out of thin air that they didn’t even look at her. Thea flopped onto her back beside her friend, resting her head on Clodagh’s stomach.

“Well, to start, she says she loves flowers. Which is why I’m here. And second, I thought maybe I’d see if Marigold could make a new flower based on her name.”

“Well, that’s quite romantic for you, actually.” Thea was impressed. This young woman had really wiggled her way into Clodagh’s thoughts. “What’s her name?”

“Odharnait,” Clodagh breathed as though she were casting a spell.

Right, well, that didn’t sound like a flower. And she already knew that Marigold would want a pretty name for a brand new species—especially since it might grow out of control and take over yet another field by the house. Flowers were tricky and aggressive little buggers.

“Maybe we should just pick her a pretty bouquet,” Thea replied. “Marigold is busy, after all. And they’ll be busy for quite some time.”

“Oh, right. The weedles.” Clodagh sat up onto her elbows, looking down at Thea’s head on her belly. “So why are you out here if this is going to take them all day?”

“I watch.”

“And learn what?”

Patience?

Kindness?

Temperance?

She didn’t know what the point of watching was, other than her mother knew that Thea might get into trouble if she wasn’t within her eyesight. If she wasn’t watching her family, then her mother had no idea where she was. And that would make Máthair worry, and worry for a witch who controlled the weather could sink the entire town into a horrible thunderstorm.

Speaking of... Thea lifted her head and glanced back at her family. And there were Máthair’s eyes watching her, as she had known her mother eventually would. But instead of a scolding expression, her mother merely smiled and lifted her chin.

“Go,” she said without having to say a single word.

Thea mouthed the words, “Thank you,” before sitting up and reaching for Clodagh’s hands. “Come on, I know where there is a splendid patch of wildflowers that your new lady will love.”

Clodagh clapped their hands together, and away they raced. Away from the horrible feeling of never being enough for her family, even though she knew they didn’t agree with those thoughts. They loved her. They would never be disappointed in her. It was just... well. Sometimes she was a little disappointed in herself.

When they reached the meadow of wildflowers, she skidded to a halt and inhaled the salty scent of the sea. The wildflowers grew best next to the river, which was really a small channel that led out to the ocean. Seagulls flew over their heads, and their screeching calls filled her ears with a terrible kind of music. But the sun sparkled on the faint waves in the river, and she could see the other side from where they stood. Wildecliff.

It was so far away, she knew. It had taken her and her mother quite a while to paddle over to where she had gotten her familiar.

Where she had met Alistair.

Clodagh pressed her hands to her mouth. “Wow, you weren’t kidding, Thea. This place is amazing.”

Hundreds of wildflowers dotted the landscape all around them. Every color imaginable was here, and they would have to be very particular about what they plucked from the ground. A wildflower bouquet took time and talent to create. Thankfully, those were both things that Thea had in abundance.

“What message do you want to send her?” she asked.

“What?”

“Bouquets have meaning. All flowers do.” Thea tucked a strand of her dark waves behind her ear, then crossed her arms over her chest in thought. “Blush roses, I think. That means you’re looking for a blossoming romance.”

“Well, I am.” Clodagh bent down and plucked a handful of roses, hissing as their thorns cut into her palms. “All right, what’s next?”

“Umm... Cornflower?”

Clodagh made a face. “They’re boring.”

“They mean you have hope for love.” Thea snickered as Clodagh dashed to collect them. “Don’t forget Sweet William!”

“Whatever for?” her friend called out.

“Gallantry, and to show you’ll be respectful. Oh! Honeysuckle too. Honeysuckle for devotion and to say you have eyes only for her.” It took the two of them quite a while to find the last one, but then they were finished. Thea tied a bright red ribbon around the bundle and nodded. “That’ll do.”

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

“I know she will.” Thea wrapped an arm around her best friend and hugged her close. “Come on, let’s head back and get those in water or they’re wilt.”

But then, at the worst moment, she might add, a cawing noise echoed overhead. Thea looked up to see Atlas circling above them. The raven was clearly agitated that there was another person with her and that she had her arm around said person.

“Is that a familiar?” Clodagh asked.

“Um...” She didn’t know how to answer that. Especially not when Atlas landed in front of them and held out his leg with a disapproving look.

“Is that...” Clodagh pulled away from Thea’s arm. “Is that a letter? Have you been writing to someone through their familiar?”

“Um, no.” Thea lunged for Atlas and pulled the letter off his leg before her friend could get it. Then she sent him off into the air without an answering letter. “Off you go. Sorry!”

The squawk Atlas let out before flying off clearly stated he didn’t like this plan and didn’t appreciate how forcefully she’d thrown him into the air. But Clodagh would never let her down if she didn’t hide the letter...

That was snatched out of her hand the moment there was an opportunity to do so.

“Give that back!” Thea shouted, sprinting after her friend, who had already ripped the black ribbon off.

“Thea,” Clodagh shouted back, reading the letter as she ran wildly through the field. “It has been too long since I’ve last heard from you. How strange it feels to miss such awful handwriting!”

The shriek that followed those words made Thea’s cheeks burn. He wasn’t exactly the most romantic of men, but he’d been writing to her for weeks now! And how nice was it that someone cared enough to write to her at all?

“Clodagh!”

“You said you’re teaching Browning a few tricks. I’d love to hear more about that process,” Clodagh spun around, so she was running backward. “Are you talking to a boy, Miss Thea? Regularly?”

That was enough. Thea tackled her friend into the dirt and wrenched the letter out of her hand. “Stop it!”

“What? Why! I just want to know! I tell you all about my failed love stories.”

Because this was a secret. Because it was hers and no one else’s and because she didn’t want anyone to know about Alistair just yet. She’d never had something that was just her own and didn’t have to be shared with everyone in her family. Even Browning sometimes slept in Marigold’s room.

But Alistair was hers. And hers alone.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

She sat with the crumpled letter in her lap. How had the page gotten so mangled already? She wanted to bind them all into a journal someday, but now it was so wrinkly... Sighing, she tried smoothing the edges out with her thumb. “Because I don’t... He’s a friend.”

“A friend, huh?” Clodagh sat up, and a streak of dirt had smeared her right cheek. “Then why are you writing him back so much?”

“He’s a friend.” She repeated, but her fingers lingered on the crumpled edges as though they would never smooth out again.

And she wanted them smooth because... because...

Well, she guessed it was because the letters made her feel special. As impossible as that was.