She snickers. “Do you have something up your sleeve?”

“What?” I get what she’s implying. “No. We don’t cast spells of influence anymore.”

“Then you’ll have to lobby along with the townies, I guess.”

Ronnie arrives a bit out of breath. “Hey, Courtney. Funny running into you here.”

“Hi,” she replies. “John’s expecting me. I better get home.”

Our ex-coven member prances down the path in her hiking boots, her pale-blond hair riding a zephyr.

“What a coincidence running into her here,” my best friend says.

“Yeah.” I stare into the distance at the murky bog. A faint haze rises from the water’s surface. Or was it?

Chapter thirteenMisguided Affections

When I arrive home, I nudge the red side door inward and hang up my jacket, kicking off my sneakers. Leslie is cooking dinner in the kitchen. I inhale the aroma of tomato sauce and spices.

“Hello, Gwynedd. I was about to put pasta into boil. Would you like some?”

“Thank you. I’d love not to cook tonight. I’m tired. This semester can’t end soon enough. I need a break…from everything.”

She pours small shell pasta into a pot. “You carry too much of the world on your shoulders. More than any one witch should bear. Perhaps you should focus on finishing Fall Semester. Put your research on the being in your vision on the back burner. Archie and I have had no luck. I assume your work with Seamus has uncovered nothing or you would have said something.”

“Nope. Without a picture, the monster could fit any of descriptions we’ve found. But none of them match a hundred percent. When the gray-skinned giant crosses over, do you think he’d pose for a photo?”

Leslie laughs as she stirs the tomato sauce. “My suggestion would be to ask and make a run for it.”

“Exactly my thoughts. I need to concentrate on increasing the strength of my witch’s intuition. After my last training session with Agnes, I began meditating with an amethyst geode she gave me. I think it’s helped a little, but I can’t replicate what happened at her house.”

“All things develop in time,” she says, placing utensils on the kitchen table. “I noticed you were wearing boots.”

“I just finished a hike with Ronnie in the North Basin. We were right around the corner from the bog, and my body reacted to the presence of magic. An aura overwhelmed me, and like a magnet, it dragged me toward the water. I ran as if my life depended on it. When I got to the bend, Courtney Davies appeared.”

Leslie dumps the pasta in the strainer over the sink. “Indeed. Was she alone?”

“Yeah. She said her husband had to stay home and prepare for the Monday council meeting. I asked her if she was practicing witchcraft in there. She answered no.”

“Did you believe her?” she asks, setting plates of pasta on the table.

“It made sense,” I reply as we sit down to eat. “But there was something off about it. When I observed the bog in the distance, a strange haze floated over it. It was odd. But it dissipated by the time Ronnie and I hiked to the water.”

“Curious. Are you suggesting Courtney is the rogue witch aiding the Baby Nabbers we’ve hypothesized about?”

I recall dashing through the Pumpkin House on Samhain, following the stream of magic residue and discovering her in the bathroom.

“How?” I ask. “She was standing on the porch at the Pumpkin House when I ran outside. I was using the toilet right before. But she had a strange expression on her face. Anxious as everyone else, but it was different. What do I know? She probably felt bad for the mom. We all did.”

“I’ll share this news with Trinity. We should tread carefully around her. She’s the wife of a councilman. Please, eat your dinner, Gwynedd. Don’t let the worries of the world ruin your appetite. You must remain strong in case your power is needed to protect the town.”

I smile at the Elder. “I like you a lot more with this demeanor. Should I thank your partner?”

“Pfft. If it were up to Agnes, I’d be holed up in that farmhouse of hers, letting the coven rot away like a corpse.”

“You don’t mean that. She’s come a long way since you found each other again.”

“Yes. She loves me as I do her. But let’s be honest. If it weren’t for you, she would have never returned to the coven. As much as you didn’t want the job, Gwynedd, you are the anchor for all of us.” She lays a wrinkled hand on mine and smiles. “I hope you’ll keep it.”

I don’t respond and continue eating. Being an anchor is a heavy burden. I’m not sure I want the position.

After meditation with the geode, I lie in bed, contemplating how I will twist Seamus’s arm to divulge his cat sith secrets. Mr. Yeats jumps onto the quilt and stares at me, blinking. I pet his back.

“What am I going to do, Mr. Yeats? How do I convince a cat sith witch to break centuries of rules? Don’t answer. It was rhetorical. Scoot, now. I need privacy.”

He meows at me, hops onto the floor, and scuttles out of the room. I shut the door and call Archie to fill him in on my suspicions about Courtney.

“Hard to say what it all means. She’s a follower, not the makings of a rogue witch, in my opinion. Don’t you agree?”

“I guess. But I’m eager to see how things go down tomorrow night at the council meeting.” I yawn into the phone.

“You sound exhausted. Get some rest. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sleep well, my love.”

“You, too, honey.”

After class on Monday, I rush across the Green to the alleyway, hoping to catch Seamus while he’s eating lunch. The sun is shining, and the temperature is nearly sixty. I practice my speech on the way to Kent and Drummond. He has to acquiesce when I tell him about the coven’s theory regarding a narcissistic witch.

A neighbor strolls by, waving, as I knock on Seamus’s front door. But he isn’t coming. Damn. My shoulders fall. He must have remained at school today. As I step off the stoop, he calls to me.

“Gwynedd, I wasn’t expecting you. Please, come in.”

“Thanks.” I enter the house, fiddling with my backpack strap.

“What can I do for you on this lovely day?” he asks, leaning on his cane.

“Yes. It’s warmer than expected.” My gaze drops to the floor.

“Something is wrong,” he says, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Please, you can confide in me. Have you had another vision?”

Whatever words spill from my mouth will play on his affections. But I tell myself I have to do it. For my best friend—to keep her future baby safe.

“No. I shouldn’t ask you, but I am so worried about the children in our town, especially Ronnie’s little one that’s due in about a month…” I stare into his eyes. He gazes back silently, inviting me to keep speaking, so I do. “Will you teach me how a cat sith witch increases their intuition? Even a tiny morsel of your knowledge could aid me, intensify my skills enough to sniff out the witch who’s put money above rectitude. I’m asking my protector for help.”

He looks away for a long minute, then returns his gaze. “If I share my secrets, you must promise never to divulge what I show you to anyone—not even Archie.” He grasps my hand. “This is knowledge I share only with those I consider special to me.”

“Yes. I promise you I won’t tell anyone.”