Headache-free. You were right. The headaches were coming from Viv.
I’m always right. But this time, I wish I wasn’t.
I sent back a heart emoji and put the phone down.
Bryce worked in silence for a while, pencil racing across the page, lips moving as he sounded out the words. Every so often, he’d look up and catch me watching. Each time, he’d smile, a little embarrassed but not unhappy.
After an hour, he closed the book and announced, "First assignment done."
I clapped, and he rolled his eyes, but I could see he liked it.
We spent the next hour building a volcano for science class. Bryce insisted on adding a moat for the lava flow, and I let him, because why not? The kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off, but the laughter was worth it. Even the wolf plush got in on the action, sacrificed to the red food coloring when Bryce tried to rescue it from the "magma."
When the volcano finally erupted, Bryce howled, a full-throated, joyous sound that rattled the windows.
Lunch came and went, the kitchen crowded with grilled cheese and bad jokes and Zaden’s never-ending supply of dad puns. Bryce told him about the volcano, the sparks, the new world order at the kitchen table.
Zaden listened, grinned, and then, when Bryce went to the living room to watch TV, pulled me into a quick, fierce hug.
"He’s better," I said, my throat tight.
Zaden nodded. "He’s free. You did it, Krystal."
I held on a moment longer, then pulled away. "We did it. All of us."
He laughed, then pointed at the volcano, now oozing a pink river down the side of the table. "You know that’s never coming out, right?"
I shrugged. "Let it stain. I want to remember today."
He kissed my cheek, then went to join Bryce on the couch. I watched them, father and son, laughing at a cartoon, the old wounds finally starting to scab over.
I poured another cup of coffee and stood at the window, watching the birds in the yard. The world was still out there, full of monsters and witches and the kind of danger I couldn't ever fully banish. But inside this house, at this table, there was peace.
The transition from schoolwork to spellwork was fast. I'd barely had time to finally wipe the last of the volcano residue off the table before Aurelia arrived, all silk scarf and brisk purpose, followed five minutes later by Eleanor, who looked freshly pressed and a little wary. The air between them felt fragile, as if the memory of last night’s siege hadn’t worn off. Still, neither woman hesitated when Bryce bounded up to greet them, wolf plush still tucked under his arm.
"We’re ready for the big leagues, right, Mom?" he said, looking at me for permission. When I nodded, he pumped a fist in the air.
Aurelia clapped her hands. "All right, young magus. Table clear, sleeves up. Let’s see what we’re working with." She set her tote bag down and unloaded a small arsenal. Candles, a wooden box of crystals, a coil of white chalk, a battered notepad full of diagrams and runes. Within thirty seconds, the kitchen looked more like a laboratory than a place for eating lunch.
Eleanor eased into the background, hands folded, watching with a tight smile.
Bryce dropped into his chair, eyes wide. "Are those real crystals?" he whispered, as if the kitchen might be bugged.
Aurelia nodded, arranging them in a loose circle. "Amethyst, rose quartz, and a few surprises. We’ll start easy. See if you can feel the difference."
She rolled a piece of amethyst across the table. Bryce caught it, rolling it between his palms, then held it to his forehead as if trying to tune in. I watched his expression shift, suspicion, surprise, then delight.
"It tingles," he said, giggling.
"That’s your magic interacting with the stone," Aurelia explained. "It’s a good sign."
Eleanor stepped forward, her own crystal in hand. She placed it on the table, then nodded at Bryce. "Breathe in, like this. Deep and slow. Let the air go all the way down."
Bryce mimicked her, exhaling with a dramatic flourish. For the first time, the sparks in his fingers didn’t leap out randomly. They hovered, the static held between breaths. Eleanor smiled, her hand steadying his shoulder. "Very good. The breathing helps keep the current from running wild. Try it again, but slower this time."
I hovered at the end of the table, caught between wanting to intervene and wanting to let the moment be. The tension from this morning had faded, replaced by an energy that was almost contagious. If the old wounds between my mother and me were still there, neither of us let it show, not in front of Bryce.
Aurelia uncapped the chalk and drew a simple rune on the table. "This is a focusing sigil. Like a funnel. When you concentrate, aim your power at the center."
