Page 2 of The Witch’s Daughter

“Okay, well, can we talk about the summons?” Mom asked, standing on her tiptoes to look over my shoulder. She was tall by human standards, but my sisters and I had our father’s Cerberus wolf blood, so we towered over her.

“I’m trying to concentrate,” I said as politely as I could. Despite her size, she was terrifying when she felt we were disrespectful.

“It’s just that…” Her voice trailed off as I pinched a small amount of mica from the jar.

Knowing she was about to comment on my magic, I sent her back to the mysterious summons. “I’m not going.”

“Tisiphone Cerberus,” she scolded, using my full birth name. Only she and one other person did that. I usually went by Trish. “It’s time for you to get out of here and meet some other witches. Go enjoy yourself.”

“You should go instead.” I measured out the flour spoon by spoon, because I knew how to read a recipe.

“I’m not going anywhere your father can’t go,” she said.

“Then why do you think I need to go?” I sifted the dry ingredients together. So far so good.

Famous last words.

“Because you need to live a little.” My mom threw her hands in the air.

I whisked the bowl away before she could accidentally touch it. “I am living. In fact, right now, I’m getting ready for a meeting this afternoon with the various wolf-witches that have been called to our territory for some sort of discussion on this mysterious summons. Know anything about that, Mom?”

She looked at her feet.

Just as I thought.

The arrival of this scroll only made my life more difficult. Mom had already been breathing down my neck, trying to get me to go to the Halley’s Comet magical festival as a representative for the Cerberus pack, and then the summons showed up.

It was nuts.

And I, for one, had enough crazy in my life.

I pushed a piece of my sweaty teal-colored hair out of my face. It’d taken years and multiple magical disasters, working through every color of the rainbow and getting stuck on a puke green for months before finally getting it this hue.

If that wasn’t an adequate representation of my magic and proof as to why I didn’t belong at a festival full of witches, then I had no way of convincing anyone otherwise.

Mom’s honey-brown eyes, which mirrored my own, rose to meet mine. “You know I care about you.”

“I know.” I sighed. “Go ahead and say what you want to say.”

“You really shouldn’t put mica powder in something you want to eat,” she rushed out.

“Ha,” I laughed. “Joke’s on you. It’s food-grade and I meant to put it in the cupcakes.”

I stirred faster, wishing the oven in my cabin wasn’t out of commission so that I could’ve finished these in secret.

“Cupcakes….” Mom’s eyes widened. “Are these for someone’s birthday?”

As if the wax candles and fancy basket on the table weren’t dead giveaways.

“Maybeee….” I dragged out the word as I reached for the salt I’d forgotten to add.

“You are not going to poison that nice Alpha,” Mom cried.

“Don’t be so dramatic. I won’t actually hurt him. It’s just a prank.” By the wince on her face, I assumed I’d added too much salt.

Oops.

Maybe we should let her take over.