I blinked, appalled.“Why didn’t you say so earlier?You should’ve at least told Alexander, seeing as he’s making all our meals.”
“I’m used to fending for myself,” Maddox said.“It’s not a big deal.”
“Adeathlyallergy is certainly a big deal,” I said, frowning.I tucked the bag of peanuts away, making sure to twist it tightly so nothing would spill.Food allergies were one of the few rare illnesses herbwitches hadn’t formulated a cure for, as one of the main principles of antidote-making involved using a bit of poison in the cure.As a result, those with severe food sensitivities usually reacted poorly to the potions meant to help them.
A witch in an ugly patchwork skirt carrying a basket of shelled peanuts walked brusquely past, bumping my shoulder.I startled away at the contact—I hadn’t noticed her approach at all.
My nose wrinkled, though less from her lack of manners than the skirt she was wearing; I’d never seen a garment more deserving of being in a dust bin.
At my reaction, Maddox asked, “What’s wrong?Who was that?”
“Nothing,” I said, waving my hand.I must’ve been extra jumpy, anticipating Ma to appear any second.“Come.Let’s help Alexander.”
Alexander was back at his plot, brushing the dirt off his gourds.He had a significant pile of them now, a mountain of gold and orange in his basket.The three of us headed down the little dirt path that led toward him, weaving through other witches’ produce: crates of potatoes, green beans, dirt streaked carrots with leafy tops, and the stray bell pepper and pumpkin rolling down a slight incline.
When Alexander saw us, he waved us over.“Help me bring these back into the house!”
“On it,” I called back, trotting ahead.
When my shoes hit the dirt of Alexander’s plot, the world went a shade darker, throwing shadows on the previously bright field.I blinked rapidly, wondering if my vision had failed.Murmurs rose from the witches around me as they craned their neck upward.Perhaps a passing cloud?I looked up just as the sun blinked out from the sky, extinguished like a flame.Then, it flickered back to life.
“Giselle?What’s happening?”Edmund called out from behind.
I froze.This wasnota good time for something strange to be happening.
“Alexander?”I said warily.
I was hoping he had the answer, but there was a sort of bewildered panic written on his face, the complete opposite of his usual congenial serenity, as he stood slowly and gaped at the sky.
He was the last thing I saw before the light went out completely, plunging the village into darkness.
A startled cry rang out behind me.The timbre was decidedly masculine and by now, familiar.
“Edmund!”I spun around, but my eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the darkness.All I could see was black.My stomach dropped.To think my bad luck had followed me all the way down here!
“Gigi?What’s going on?Who is Edmund?”A ball of yellow light flickered to life at the corner of my vision.Christabella trotted toward me, her outstretched palm holding a bobbing witchlight, illuminating her worried face as she skirted a raised garden bed.She always did have a talent for light conjuring.I was never more grateful for it than now.
A few other witchlights flickered across the field in a variety of colors: purple, orange, white.Murmurs began to crescendo, then panicked inquiries.
“What’s going on?”a young witch cried.
“Did something happen to the weather witches?”
I grabbed Christabella’s wrist.“Come with me.We have to find Edmund.”
She barely got another word in before I retraced my steps.Our radius of illumination didn’t extend very far, so it was difficult to gauge the exact direction to go.Edmund had been relatively close when the sky went out.I caught a glimpse of wavy black hair beside a pumpkin of considerable size.Christabella lifted her light higher.
“Edmund!”I cried out, kneeling beside him.He was sprawled on the dirt and curled on his side, clutching his ankle.“Are you alright?”
“Think I twisted something,” he ground out.
Christabella stared at us from above, her worried eyes widening to an expression of awe.“He’s so handsome,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Maddox stepped into Christabella’s circle of light, his blond hair gleaming like a halo.
She gaped at him.“Gigi?What’s going on?Do you know these beautiful men?”
Maddox shot her a strange look before turning to me.“I thought you said Witch Village is safe!”
