Ladybug sucked in a breath, feeling the whole world sway. Holt and Willow had spoken in a language only comprehensible to them, and she would never learn to navigate that sort of relationship. She would not change her mind.
“And as it turns out, he and I are much better as friends,” Bethany went on, her smile finally touching her eyes. “We have a much better relationship now than we ever did when we were working together. We’re good business partners. Just not very good . . . partners.”
“I’m glad,” she said sincerely. “Although I am sorry that you had to leave the craft for that to happen. Truly.”
The other woman shrugged, laughing lightly. “I don’t know that I’ve left it completely. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. What am I, if I’m not a witch? But I want to be able to practice it on my own terms, celebrate what I want to celebrate, cherry pick the rest. Can’t do that with a magical minder.”
“I think magical minders sound entirely overrated,” Ladybug said, grinning as Bethany laughed again. “And truly, thank you for coming tonight. I’ve never hosted a party and I was petrified no one would show up. This is . . . this is a hard night for me. It used to be one of my favorites, and I’m hoping that it can be again.”
They joined the others in line, and she was glad they’d had a chance to speak.We’re all sisters tonight, no matter what’s happened in the past.
Anzan had just struck a match to the fire when she heard it. A thrum through the air, low and steady, followed by several short thumps. Ladybug watched as he raised his head, his black eyes glimmering in the firelight. He crossed the long expanse of the yard in a blur, his heavy legs moving over each other like a zoetrope of black and white, and when he reached the flagstones, he thumped a foot in kind.
“Little bug.” His blue eyes were wide once she joined him, two hands clasped before him, fingers threaded and twisting. She would ask Holt where he had procured that little metal object with the buttons and dials, and get one for Anzan as well. “I–I am sorry I did not tell you before. I have invited a guest to your celebration. If–if that is permissible?”
Her heart felt as if it exploded into a million butterflies, their colorful wings tickling her from the inside, inflating her chest until she thought she might levitate. Her eyes burned. She was happy, she realized,sohappy. Happier than she ever thought she could feel on this day, the anniversary of her shunning. Despite what else was happening in their lives, despite this town ordinance distraction. She was happy with the way things were. Two short years ago, she couldn’t have imagined ever being happy again.
“Ourcelebration,“ she corrected him, standing on her tiptoes until he bent to meet her waiting lips. “Our home. Our celebration.”
Ladybug followed Anzan around the house, up the flagstone path that fed into the driveway, stopping short when she saw her.
She had likely been taller in her youth. Statuesque, even. The Araneaen woman in her prime would have towered over Anzan. As it was though, she was a hunched, shriveled thing. A sign of her advanced age and life experience, wrinkles to be worn proudly. Ladybug was reminded of Anzan’s appearance that very first day on the sidewalk before her door. She watched as he quickly scuttled down the driveway, heedless of Kestra Kittredge and the others across the street, bowing low, his nose grazing the pavement before old Philomel.
“Reina. You do me a great honor.”
She could not hear the old Araneaen’s response, but Ladybug was certain she was going to float away. The butterflies in her chest nearly lifted her off her feet as Philomel took Anzan’s extended hand, letting him lead her up the driveway. He kept his head low, stooping in order to be beneath the already stooped old woman, nearly bending in half at the waist. Ladybug understood that the deference he paid her was likely a tenth of what would have been expected of him if he were still living in Maranok, amongst his clan. She barely realized she was crying until he halted before her, panic clouding his expression, until Ladybug smiled.
“Reina, I have the honor of introducing you to my beautiful mate.”
She hoped they were watching. She hoped they wereallwatching. Millie and Kestra, the whole street, her mother and her aunts and all of the witches who’d come before them. They still walked beside her, and she hoped they saw her happiness.
“I amsothrilled you’ve joined us tonight.”
Philomel inclined her head, giving Ladybug the toothless smile. “You have a beautiful home, little witch, and a brave heart. I am the one who is honored to have been invited to share this celebration with you.” She squinted, looking beyond Ladybug. “Ah. You. You, I remember.”
Holt had materialized at her side and chuckled over her shoulder. “It’s been a long time, Philomel. I’m glad to see you looking well.”
The sound of merriment and chatter met them as they moved back up the driveway, leading the spiderfolk behind them. Holt reached out for her hand, and she didn’t pull away. “A new year, little Ladybug. The wheel never stops turning. And this night’s just full of surprises, isn’t it?”
She nearly choked on her laughter, swallowing it down. “Millie is across the street,” she murmured in a low voice. “They’re all sitting on the porch watching. They’re probably on the phone with the mayor right now, telling him I’m building a spider army.”
Holt snorted. “Good. I’m going to go over there later and piss on her door. Maybe leave a hairball on the hood of her car.”
They paused once they reached the edge of the garden path, looking out on the assembly before them. Anzan had strung the yard with white twinkle lights, crisscrossing above their heads, from the pergola she used for her monthly moon devotionals to the towering hedgerow. It was dusk, and despite the earlier rain, a huge yellow moon hung above the horizon, as if it, too, were a guest at her party.
If she closed her eyes, she could almost smell the particular blend of incense, mingling with the woodsmoke from that long-ago bonfire, when she’d been a girl. It had clung to her hair for the days-long celebrations, soot staining her wind-ruddied cheeks, and the aunts had needed to scrub her pink to get her clean afterwards. She wanted her fire to burn just as high tonight, flames licking the sky and blazing through the night, calling to them. The veil was thinnest at Beltane and Samhain, would be thin that night, and she hoped they would see her through the fire.
“It turned out to be a beautiful night,” she sighed, relieved that they were not being rained on. “I used to love this night, once. Maybe I will again after this.”
“It is always night in her majesty’s forest. Company’s coming.” She looked up at his cryptic words, but Holt’s eyes were fixed on the fire.
“You said that. Aren’t they here?”
He shook his head, staring intently into the flames. “I can’t quite make them out. They’ll be here soon. The wheel keeps turning, Ladybug. But for now, we should get started. Would you like to begin?”
Her head swung around again.Shewas no crone. She knew him well enough at that point, knew him better than she had her entire life, despite the years he’d previously spent in it, and she knew what he was doing, what he was planning. She had changed, but she was not strong enough to lead a coven of her own.
“I–I don’t know what to say.”
