My mouth falls open. “Uh…we’ll chat about that later.” Much later, because I barely have a handle on this skill myself. Tyler only achieved a level three status recently.

I hug my son. “I’ll see you tomorrow night at Agnes’s, dear.”

“Bye, Nain. Bye, Taid.” Tyler waves as he exits the magic room.

“That went splendidly,” Mom says, smiling. “I was so worried Tyler would run out screaming.”

“I knew he wouldn’t. He asked to conference with you. He was ready.”

“You should be proud, Gwynedd,” Dad replies, his image wavering. “He is a wonderful young man…and witch.”

It’s the first time one of them has praised me for bringing him into our world of witchcraft. I’m surprised at the effect it has on me. I should stop holding a grudge against them for raising me as an Unremarkable.

“Did either of you expand your witch’s intuition when you were young? Try to increase its reach or clarity?”

“I never had any, Gwyn,” Dad replies. “But your mother did. The ancestral history.”

“Yes, mine was developing well, but then we withdrew from magic. It vanished over the years until the twinges disappeared completely. Occasionally, I’d sense you were in danger. But that could have been a mother’s instinct. Even Unremarkables experience that. Why do you ask?”

“My intuition seems to have changed a little. Actually, I don’t know if it is a sixth sense. I may just be having GI issues.”

She grimaces. “What do you mean?”

“There’s been a kidnapping in town. A crime ring from Pennsylvania called the Baby Nabbers appears to have moved into New Castle County. They swiped an infant right from under his mother’s nose. Well, she wasn’t near the stroller, because she was taking pictures of plants. Ronnie and I were leaving the gardens when it happened, so we didn’t witness it.”

“How dreadful,” Dad says, his brow furrowing. “I hope they discover the scoundrels.”

Mom shakes her head. “The mother must blame herself. But she shouldn’t. There was no reason to think her baby wasn’t safe in an enclosed garden. But what does the kidnapping have to do with your witch’s intuition?”

“On the way out, I experienced a sharp pain inside, like someone was pinching me with needle nose pliers. Within a millisecond, the mother screamed her baby was missing. I experienced a lighter twinge when I scouted out the area behind the mound.” My shoulders fall. “Oh, hell. It wasn’t intuition—just gas.”

My parents laugh at my expense, their golden images fading in and out. When they’ve calmed down, Mom addresses my concerns.

“Dear Gwynedd. I am at a loss to help you with this. As a mother, you will experience greater-than-normal empathy. Those feelings may multiply being an ancestral witch. I wish I could guide you. Have you asked your mentor, Agnes Pritchard?”

I burst out laughing, then snort. “Because she is the epitome of empathy? Or a mother’s intuition?”

Mom’s face sparkles as she chuckles. “Point taken. Agnes was never a conventional witch, but she was talented. Seek her advice.”

“Sure. I’ll try to schedule another conference in a week or two. I know you want to talk with Tyler again, but between school and all my other commitments, I may run out of time.”

“This question may cause you stress, but I need to ask.” Dad’s golden hue intensifies. “Have you had any success with the discovery of the monster in your visions?”

“No. But I’m working on it with Dr. Seamus Duffy. Archie continues to delve into other areas of lore, too.” I refrain from mentioning Ashley Lewis because I don’t even know if she’ll have time to help me.

“We look forward to your next call,” Mom says. “Please tell Ronnie we wish her well with the remainder of her pregnancy.”

“I will. She’s eager to meet her little one.”

“Every mother’s desire intensifies the closer she gets to the end. Until our future conference, be well, Gwynedd,” my mom says.

“Thanks, Mom and Dad. I love you.”

“We love you, too, Gwyn.” Dad’s image fades.

Mr. Yeats jumps off the chair and transforms into his human persona, wiping a tear from under his spectacles. “I was so touched by your parents meeting your son. What a heartwarming family reunion. Thank you for allowing me to observe the interactions.”

“Thank you for being here in case Tyler freaked out. I would have welcomed your help.”

He straightens his vest. “I appreciate the confidence you have in me.”

“I do, Mr. Yeats. You have proven yourself. You’re not nearly as irritating as you used to be.”

He smiles as he fluffs his bowtie, but the corners of his mouth fall flat.

Thursday evening, I rush from my late class to my metallic-blue Prius, zipping up my hoodie as I go. The air is chilly despite the bright sunshine that brought warm temps earlier in the day. But the sky is clear. Stars twinkle across the indigo canvas above as the crescent moon lights their display.

I zip along Manor Road to Agnes’s farmhouse where the Fellowship is having their meeting. As I pull up, my high beams illuminate the new white siding and black shutters. The exterior of the hedge witch’s home has a fresh appearance after the completed renovations—an amazing transformation from its prior state. The dingy clapboard was rotting away.

I park and discover Archie waiting for me on her newly painted front porch, an exterior sconce spotlighting his gorgeous face. When I reach the top step, he kisses me. I inhale the scent of his woodsy cologne and a calm sets in.

“Mmm. I miss the aroma of your aftershave. You trimmed your goatee, too.”

“For later, my love,” he says, winking. “I worried you wouldn’t make it on time. Everyone is here. Elijah and Jessica Devine just walked into the meeting. It will be interesting to hear what she has to say.”

“Nothing great, I’m sure. The allies on the council have lost their patience. If it weren’t for Elijah, she wouldn’t have waited this long to address us.”

We enter the foyer to find Agnes lecturing the young witches about removing their shoes. Her salt and pepper hair cuts across her pale, wrinkled face, casting shadows in the glow of the brand-new light fixture overhead. I look around appreciatively—the coven and our Unremarkable friends converted her outdated home into a modern showcase. Who would think the hedge witch would give a shit?

“I shouldn’t have to remind you every fucking time. You take off your fucking shoes at the door. Don’t you see the shoe rack?”

Skye bends over to untie her sneakers. “Sorry, Agnes. It’s hard to get used to. You never cared before.”

“We forgot,” Spence says. “So, shoot us with a magic bolt.”

She scowls at him as she rubs her back. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I took mine off the first time I entered.” Tanner points to his feet. “But that’s because I did most of the refinishing on the floors. I care about my work.”

Spence moves his lips silently, playfully mocking his partner. “You’re just trying to stay on her good side. It’s not like I didn’t help. I did a lot of painting.”

“Well, I’ll give you that,” the hedge witch says, rolling her pale-gray eyes.

Tyler glares at her. “We all did, Agnes. You should be more appreciative of the labor we put in. Hi, Mom. Hi, Archie.”

“Hello, dear. How are you, Zoe?”