Page 21 of Little Witch

"I'm—" The word stuck somewhere in my throat before I managed to push it out. "I'm a witch?"

"Part of one. At least." Something gentled behind his eyes, the glow softening from its usual sharp neon into something warmer, pink bleeding slow toward violet at the edges. "It explains a lot, if you think about it. Why you've always felt tied to this town in a way most people don't. Why the woods have never once left you alone, even when you wanted them to." He grinned, trying to soften the blow. "And why you love me so much. You clearly have a thing for magic men."

My eyes stung, though it wasn't grief exactly — closer to relief, the specific kind that comes from finally hearing an explanation for something you'd spent your whole life assuming was just a flaw in you. Every strange, unexplainable piece of my childhood clicked into a shape that finally made sense.

"Thank you," I said, and meant it more than the two words could really carry. "For telling me. I know that wasn't easy." I narrowed my eyes a little. "Though I will admit you knowing for a few years and not telling me is kinda... I was gonna say shitty but not quite."

He blanched. "In my defence, I didn't think you'd want to know yet, and that crash kind of... kind of made me forget. I was only thinking about myself and I shouldn't have been."

He reached across the counter and squeezed my hand, and in the same instant the mug under my other palm gave a small, sharp jolt against the wood — enough that coffee sloshed near the rim, enough that when I glanced down a hairline crack had appeared along the ceramic, thin as a hair, already stilling into nothing. Neither of us said anything about it. I wasn't even fully convinced I'd seen it happen, and Orias's expression gave nothing away, though his eyes had flicked to the mug and back to my face just a fraction too fast.

A knock landed on the front door before either of us could dwell on it. My pulse jumedhalf a second before my brain worked out why.

"That'll be Rowan," Orias said, already crossing toward the hall, wiping his hands on a tea towel as he went.

He pulled the door open to find his twin standing on the step, tall and windblown, dark circles matching Orias's own almost exactly, a battered black journal tucked under one arm. Rowan's gaze found mine over his brother's shoulder and stayed there a beat too long before he managed a short nod.

"Morning," he said. Flat. Guarded, same as he'd been every second since the clearing.

"He's been dying to see you since about six a.m.," Orias said, entirely too pleased with himself. "Wouldn't say so, obviously. Wanted to let you eat first before he showed up looking like he crawled out of a grave to drag you into a serious conversation."

Rowan huffed. "I never said that."

"You implied it extremely hard, on the walk over, in a text I still have."

Rowan's jaw ticked, but he didn't bother arguing the point, which told me Orias probably wasn't exaggerating by much. Something warm loosened under the nerves still sitting heavy in my chest, watching the two of them fall into that easy rhythm like the last three years hadn't put any real distance between them at all.

"We were thinking," Orias said, turning back to me, the grin returning, gentler this time, "you've had a hell of a morning already, and it's not even eight. Let us take you out. Properly. The shop's shut, the festival planning can wait an hour, and you look like you could do with breathing actual air that isn't full of whispers."

"We?" I looked between them, suspicion flickering underneath the surprise before I could talk myself out of it. "Both of you?"

Orias nodded, easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Rowan gave a single short inclination of his head, silent, watching me with an intensity that made it hard to tell whether he wanted me to say yes or half expected me to say no.

I probably should have asked more questions. Should have pointed out how strange it was, the two of them turning up together with a plan they clearly hadn't discussed until thirty seconds before knocking, given how surprised Rowan had looked at Orias's version of events. But whatever pull kept drawing me toward saying yes to either of them lately won out easily over good sense.

"Fine," I said. "Give me a minute to grab my coat."

Orias's grin widened into something close to victorious. Rowan's expression didn't quite soften into a smile, but I caught the way his shoulders dropped a fraction, like he'd genuinely braced for me to turn them both down.

I went to grab my coat off the hook by the door, and behind me the kitchen light flickered once, twice, a faint electrical stutter that settled itself before I'd even fully turned my head toward it. I didn't think much of it.

Neither of them said a word about it either. But I caught the look that passed between them over my shoulder anyway, quick and wary, gone the second I turned back around.

It was safe to say I was thoroughly suspicious.

Chapter Twelve

The walk into town was quieter than usual, though not in a bad way. Amber walked close enough that our shoulders brushed every few steps, hands nearly catching more than once. I kept mine in my pockets and let myself notice things I hadn't let myself notice in years — the way she moved with more confidence than she probably realized, the pink in her hair catching the morning light, the small, unconscious way she hummed under her breath whenever a silence stretched too long for her liking.

"So," she said, glancing sideways at me, "where exactly are you two taking me? Warm, cold, indoors, outdoors, upside down?"

"Ride and a picnic. Spot about twenty minutes out. Quiet. We need to stop for food first."

"You want to lure me somewhere quiet with the promise of snacks." Her mouth curved. "Sounds like exactly the kind of thing a man plots before doing something unforgivable."

"If I wanted to do something unforgivable to you, Amber, I wouldn't need snacks as bait."

She laughed, surprised, like she hadn't expected me to volley back that fast. I hadn't laughed easily in years. Standing next to her again made the effort feel worth it.