The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches — Chapter no 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ika spent most of Friday fast asleep, drifting in and out of peculiar dreams about snowy nights, stormy grey eyes, and pine needles.M She’d locked the attic door to prevent anyone from coming in to check on her and finding her asleep wearing a coat that most certainly was not hers, so when she woke at last, it was to the sound of loud, resolute knocking at the door.

“Just so you know,” Terracotta’s voice hollered from the other side of the door, “you have to teach me the spell to lock and unlock doors.”

“And me!” Altamira chimed in, not to be outdone. “Are you awake yet?

We miss you!”

Hastily putting Jamie’s coat on her chair, where it might have been all night and all day for all anyone knew, Mika let the girls in. Circe, who had been inadvertently locked out of the attic as well, followed them in with a rather petulant bark. Mika immediately set about soothing her offended temper with hugs and scratches.

“Lucie says you have to come down to dinner,” Rosetta informed Mika.

“She says she doesn’t care how tired you are, you’re not missing another meal.”

Mika grinned at this spot-on imitation of Lucie’s tone. “As it happens, I feel a lot better and I’m starving, so Lucie’s summons couldn’t have come at a better time. Lead the way, small ones.”

But Terracotta, that irksomely hawk-eyed child, paused. “Why is Jamie’s coat on your chair?”

“Because he let me wear it last night when I got very cold,” Mika said in what she hoped was an entirely unconcerned tone of voice. “Now move it,

buttercup, or I might get so hungry I’ll have to make do with nibbling on

you.”

“Don’t you want to get dressed?”

“Are you sure you’re eight years old?” Mika demanded. “Not, perhaps, eighty? Or eight hundred? No one is going to faint at the sight of a pair of bare legs, I promise you.”

“I thought you might get cold,” Terracotta replied, giving her an odd look. “Why would bare legs make anyone faint?”

“Never mind.”

They traipsed downstairs together, Mika knuckling sleep crust out of her eyes while the girls showed her the progress they’d made on their spellwork. Rosetta could now make her jointed wooden doll tap-dance on her palm, while Terracotta and Altamira had joined forces to animate a handful of origami paper swans. Mika was terribly impressed and terribly proud of all of them.

Surrounded by a flock of merry paper swans fluttering around their heads, they joined the others in the kitchen. Ian was crouched in front of the oven, his back to them, but Jamie looked up as they came in. His dark eyes snapped quickly to Mika’s, then snapped just as quickly away.

Ken stood at the table, filling up glasses with apple juice he and the girls had made themselves, and Lucie came directly over to get a good look at Mika.

“Well, you’re not feverish,” said Lucie, her cheeks rounding in a relieved smile. “You’re still a bit pale, but that’s probably because you haven’t eaten anything since Ian’s cookies last night. How do you feel?”

“Almost human,” Mika said cheerfully. She didn’t care one bit that she was a fully grown adult. She’d happily sink into Lucie’s embrace and be fussed over any day.

“It sounds like you were in a bad way yesterday. Do you remember much?”

Lucie’s eyes were completely guileless, the question utterly innocent, but Mika’s cheeks went hot and she forced herself not to shoot a look over at Jamie as she said, “I remember all of it.”

I remember being so delirious I forgot that restraint exists. I remember asking Jamie to kiss me and being very soundly rejected. What I don’t remember is him suffering from any such delirium, which makes me tragically certain that he remembers all of it, too.

She did not, of course, say any of this.

Instead, she went over to Ken and gave him an impulsive hug. “Thank you for yesterday.”

“It was no trouble at all,” Ken said softly, his arms tightening around her.

His warm brown eyes crinkled in a smile.

Altamira peered up at them with something like concern. “Why are you hugging? Is someone sad?”

“The opposite, actually,” Mika explained. “Ken was very kind to me yesterday.”

“It was at Jamie’s insistence, but I must admit he didn’t have to do much to persuade me.”

“Oh! Was that when they came and picked you up after you saw Primrose?” Altamira asked, and immediately followed this up with a fervent, “Damn it, Primrose,” as if the mere mention of Primrose’s name was such an ill omen that it necessitated the latter to dispel the curse.

Dinnertime conversation was familiar, mundane, and comforting: Lucie wanted to spend the weekend reading a stack of deliciously steamy historical romances she’d found at the charity shop, but Ian wanted her to help him build a beehive instead; Ken settled this argument by reminding Ian that he was almost out of his beloved flamingo pink wool, so Ian immediately made plans to drive to his favorite wool shop, The Lost Sheep, to stock up on supplies; Altamira and Terracotta tried to negotiate an extra hour of screen time out of Jamie, who was unmoved and reminded them that the only reason Rosetta was getting an extra hour was because she had actually cleaned her bedroom without being asked; and Mika said she’d be spending her Saturday in the woods, foraging for ingredients she’d noticed she was running low on.

“The Winter Solstice is just a few days away,” she explained, neglecting to point out the obvious fact that this meant Edward’s visit was only a few

days after that. “It’s one of the most powerful days of the year for witches, so I try to get as much potion-making done as possible.”

“Not too much this year, I hope,” said Lucie. “You can’t possibly shut yourself away in the attic all day! We don’t do much for Christmas at Nowhere House, but we always make the Solstice as festive as possible. In fact,” she added, with a pointed glance in Altamira’s direction, “Santa’s even been kind enough to adjust his schedule and bring the girls their presents on the Solstice!”

“Really?” Excitement and delight coursed through Mika. “I mean, I suppose I should have expected it, considering this is a house full of witches, but I’ve never celebrated the Solstice with someone else before.”

“So you have to join in,” Rosetta said earnestly.

“How could I possibly refuse?”

“You should take the kids out foraging with you tomorrow,” Jamie suggested. “They always enjoy that.”

“A very good idea,” Ian approved, and added innocently, “You could go, too. To, er, keep an eye on things.”

Mika raised her eyebrows at this, amused by such a shameless lack of subtlety, but Jamie only said, “I can’t. I’m away tomorrow.”

“Away?” Ian blinked. “Away where?”

“I’ll probably be back before the girls are in bed,” Jamie went on, ignoring the question.

Ken and Lucie exchanged wary looks, which suggested to Mika that such caginess was unfamiliar to them. Ian eyed Jamie askance. “But where are you going?”

“Yes, where?” Terracotta put in, her tone even more suspicious than

Ian’s.

Jamie scowled at them. “Liverpool.”

“Liverpool—” Ian’s eyes almost bugged out of his head. “You’re planning to go four hours each way? In a day? Why? Is there a stupendously rare book there that you can only pick up in person?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

“Jamie!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ian,” Jamie snapped. “It’s my mother’s sixtieth birthday tomorrow. She loves art galleries. She’s spending the day at the Tate. She asked me if I’d go. Can we drop it now?”

There was a moment of absolute silence. Mika looked around the table, confused, and saw that even the girls looked shocked.

“Will your brothers be there?” Ian demanded.

“Ian,” Ken warned. At the same time, there was a thump under the table, as if Lucie had given Ian a swift kick.

“She’s their mother, too, so I expect they will be there, yes,” Jamie replied in a clipped tone.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” said Ian succinctly.

“Ian.”

Mika attempted a question. “Why shouldn’t he go see his mother on her birthday?”

No one answered her. Mika knew it wasn’t fair to grudge anyone else their secrets, but she felt like she was on the outside again, looking in at something she wasn’t a part of, and she was amazed at how much it hurt.

Ian glowered at Jamie, who simply looked back, unmoved and implacable. Mika was only slightly surprised when Ian looked away first.

“Fine.” Ian crossed his skinny arms over his chest. “If you insist on this foolishness, you should at least take Mika with you.”

“What?” Jamie demanded. “Why?”

“What he said,” Mika agreed. She was quite certain that when she’d wished she weren’t on the outside looking in, she hadn’t meant she wanted to be involved like this.

Ian looked at them like the answer was the obvious. “Mika is excellent company, and she knows a speed spell. Why drive eight hours in one day when you can do it in two?”

“An annoyingly fair point,” Mika admitted. “And I’m much better now, so I should be able to cast spells without needing a sugar rush and an eighteen-hour nap right after.”

“Excellent,” said Ian, looking decidedly perkier. “Jamie?”

Jamie scowled at Ian, his jaw clenching and unclenching like he was irritated with the logic laid before him. Then, almost reluctantly, his eyes moved across the table to Mika. “Would you mind going?”

“Not at all,” she said. In fact, whatever the opposite of minding was, that was pretty much how she felt. The idea of spending a day with him was much too appealing. A thought struck her. “I don’t have to go inside the Tate, do I? Because crowds and enclosed spaces are a combination I don’t partake in if I can help it. I’d prefer to wait in the car. With a book. And snacks. Many snacks.”

A faint, crooked smile replaced the scowl on Jamie’s face. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Jamie was in a mess of a mood as he clattered his way into Ian and Ken’s cottage the following morning, shutting the front door behind him and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet for a moment to shake off the cold. Mika still had his coat, and it was only a minute’s jog across from the house to the cottage, but Christ, it was freezing out there.

“I see your feathers are ruffled,” came Ken’s deep, amused voice from the tiny, firelit front room.

They were ruffled. Not that he would ever admit it to Ian, but he was genuinely questioning his judgement in agreeing to go see his mother and brothers. On top of that, he was aggravated and exasperated and a number of other synonyms besides.

“Ian’s feathers, on the other hand,” Ken went on, as Jamie threw himself into an armchair, “are about as thrilled as any feathers can be.”

“Colour me surprised,” said Jamie irritably. “Where is he, anyway? I came to have words.”

“I think he suspected you might,” said Ken, sipping his morning coffee in an unsubtle attempt to hide his smile. “He nipped out to the wool shop just a few minutes ago, so I’m afraid, sweet boy, that you’ll have to make do with me.”

Ken was the only person in the entire world who used the term sweet boy to refer to Jamie, completely without irony, and it made Jamie love him all the more. While also questioning his judgement because Jamie was many things, but he was quite sure sweet was not one of them.

“Jamie.” Ken prodded gently. “Are you sure you want to do this? You

don’t have to go.”

“I think I need to.”

Ken’s face was full of understanding and compassion. “As long as you remember that they have absolutely no power over you anymore.”

“I know.” Jamie didn’t want to think about it any more than was necessary. “Anyway, I didn’t come to talk about them. I came to talk about Ian’s godforsaken pigheadedness.” He glowered at the empty spot on the sofa where Ian usually sat. “This thing with Mika. You know this is a terrible idea, don’t you?”

It was a long shot to hope that someone on this property was still sane, and this pessimistic expectation proved correct when Ken said, “I did think so at first, but I’m not so sure anymore.” He put his coffee cup down and reached across the space between their chairs to pat Jamie’s arm. “You understand why Ian’s doing this, don’t you? He’s beginning to feel his own mortality and, between you and me, the idea of leaving you alone terrifies him.”

Jamie found his chest was too tight to allow a reply. The idea of a world without Ian and Ken was not one he allowed himself to think about. As far as he was concerned, Death had taken enough from him and every person here was going to live fucking forever.

“Jamie,” Ken said tenderly. “You must understand why he’s so determined to find you the same kind of happiness he and I have had.

You’ve been our boy since the day you arrived, ours to love and protect and give the world to. And I know you’re an adult now. In his more reasonable moods, Ian knows that, too. But you must remember that while twenty years have come and gone, we haven’t forgotten the brave, wounded boy who stormed into our lives that day, utterly alone, and we will do anything in our power to make sure you never have to be that boy again.”

“I know that,” said Jamie. “It’s just that Ian may have miscalculated this time. If anyone has the power to tear me apart, I think it’s her.”

Ken’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “That might be true but,

you know, I don’t think she will.”

“She’ll leave.”

“I expect so, yes,” said Ken, considering. “Mika has been so deeply hurt that she has taught herself to run before she can lay down roots, but the thing you have to remember, Jamie, is that when someone leaves, all you can do is leave a window open for them so that one day, if they choose, they can come back.”

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