I grumble incomprehensibly, shoulders up to my ears. “Merghh.”
“Don’t youmerghh, you will let me have this. And Romina!” She claps her hands. “I’d better get Romina and Ash over here right now.”
“Nooo.”
Alas, she does not listen. Romina and Ash are summoned from their movie night at Alex’s house to revel in my wrongness, demanding I apologize for ever doubting them. I am force-fed many a crow. “What have you done to our grandmother’s sacred kitchen?” Romina wails upon her arrival, but soon she is hugging me and barking orders, too.
“You’ll need a dream pillow,” she says, digging in the freezer for a celebratory box of French toast sticks.
Ash retrieves a bag of powdered sugar. “And a dream journal. I’ve got an extra one! Be right back.”
Luna’s filling a basket with supplies for me, like a witchcraft care package. “Whenever it rains before noon, I want you to drink ylang-ylang tea. And never buy fresh produce on an odd-numbered day.”
“Merghh.” The onslaught of attention is appreciated, but hard to bear. I toss Morgan another pleading look. He only smiles, resting on the edge of the kitchen table. His gaze is dark and sparkling, but there is a strained melancholy to the shape of his mouth.
I think about our expedition plans. As the Tempests embrace me into their witchy fold and declare today a holiday, my focus is on Morgan, who so wishes he could join our coven, too. I am resolved, here and now, on three things:
Morgan and I are going to find the Black Bear Witch.
He is getting his magic.
Then, I am going to stop messing around with the wrong man and make myself emotionally available for the right one. Whoever and wherever he may be.
PartThree
Twenty-Eight
Our world and Fairyland overlap on the full moon. The witch who is in tune with their magic will be able to see the vague outlines of fae people and cities.
Legends and Superstitions, Expanded,
Tempest Family Grimoire
“You have toleave at seven o’clock,” Luna orders sternly. “Seven in the evening is the luckiest time of day.”
“Sunrise is the luckiest time of day,” Romina argues. They’ve been bickering about this since last night, when I explained that Morgan would like to be a witch, as well, so we’re journeying into the woods to find magic. I asked Aisling to gather more information about the map from Grandma, but apparently Grandma doesn’t remember much about the particular dream that inspired her to make that map.
Luna commandeers my list of supplies, double-checking, adding recommendations. “I don’t have a solar-powered phone charger,” I inform her, and by her reaction you’d think I’d declared I wouldn’t be wearing any clothes.
“This is why you should have put me in charge,” she says reprovingly. “I would’ve made sure you’re prepared.”
“Iamprepared.”
“Not without a solar-powered phone charger, you’re not!” She clips more knives to the metal loops on my bookbag.
“Where’d you get all these knives? And on short notice, too.” It’s unsettling.
“Go into my bedroom, pull out the box under my bed,” she tells me, disregarding my question. “I’ve got spare bottles of dry shampoo I’ve been saving up. You may take one.”
“I’ve already—”
“And grab some tinfoil. I’ve got a triple pack in the pantry. One roll only—they don’t go on sale often.”
“Why do I want tinfoil?”
“For cooking in. Honestly, Zelda! I’m not going to get any sleep while you’re gone. Thinking about you out there by yourself, no phone charger, not even knowing why you need tinfoil.” She shoos me out of the way, examining my water bottle’s filtration system.
I grab the tinfoil to avoid an argument. My luggage is already nearing a thousand pounds. “You have to let me go. It’ll be dark soon.” I shoot a text to Morgan.Where are you?He was supposed to meet me here sixteen minutes ago.
