Page 19

“Absolutely. She could be the leader of this coven someday. The mayor too, if she wanted.”

Camilla lets out a sputtering chuckle. “No.” When she realizes I’m not joking, she asks, “Aren’t both roles exclusive to those in the Crane bloodline?”

I shrug. “Just because that’s the way it’s always been doesn’t mean it’s the way it has to continue. Don’t get me wrong, being a nepo baby has served me well,” I say with a self-deprecating smirk. “But without any current plans to have kids, it’s unlikely that’ll continue. Besides, I’d never expect a child of mine to follow in my footsteps unless they really wanted to.” I did with my mom, but there’s no guarantee my kid would want to do the same. “Most of the other monster towns aren’t run by legacy witches anymore anyway.”

“Oh no? I didn’t realize that.”

I nod. “The only requirement is that the mayor needs to be a practicing witch in order to maintain the structural integrity of the barrier that keeps us hidden from the human world. None of the town bylaws require the mayor or head witch of the town coven to be of a certain lineage.”

Camilla takes this in, and her gaze turns distant, almost dreamy. “Wow, I had no idea.”

I pat her on the back before I return to the group to help clean up our supplies. “Think it over. I’d be happy to work with her one-on-one.”

Her jaw flops open. “Are you sure? That wouldn’t be too much to ask?”

“You didn’t ask. I offered.”

The more I think about handing this coven, and maybe also this town, over to an up-and-coming bruja, the more right it feels. I won’t get ahead of myself, but when my moms have asked whether I want to have kids, not only because they’re eager to be grandparents but also because they like the idea of Mapletown remaining in the Crane family, I haven’t been able to give them a clear answer.

I’m not opposed to raising a child of my own, but pregnancy is one part of the child-rearing process I have no interest in. It actually terrifies me. And without a steady romantic partner, the decision was easy to push to the back burner.

Crane women age like a fine wine, so despite being in my forties, I doubt I’d struggle to conceive, but I still don’t want to put my body through that. At this point, if I want to become a parent, I think I’d like to adopt.

You were finally able to carve out enough time to meet with the coven, Ziggy sends with a scowl. Now you think you have time to be a working mom?

Okay, fine. I wasn’t seriously considering it. I was just…pondering.

Uh huh.

“Bye, Emma!” my coven members call out as they head toward the tree line.

“Say hi to Nysso for us,” Lindsay says as she tilts her head back and takes in the tops of the tall pine trees that surround us.

Nysso is short for Nyssobioliko, the tree god assigned to guard the Mapletown forest. My grandmother summoned him immediately after she created the protective barrier around the town. Her goal was to ensure the forest would remain at its full size no matter who wielded power over the town itself. With him guarding the land, it can never be rezoned or cleared for another use. Not unless someone wants to end up losing a leg, or a head, or earning a generational curse that only ends when the bloodline stops because Nysso’s a real fuck-around-and-find-out type of god.

Nysso has only one rule: Do not enter the forest on the eleventh of every month. I have no idea what he does in here on that date. Maybe it’s akin to Home Alone or Risky Business. A real take-your-pants-off-and-run-around type of vibe. I’ve never asked because I respect clear boundaries.

He makes himself known only to me and Ziggy, mostly because I’m an elemental witch, giving us a line of communication that doesn’t often occur between head witch and tree god, but also because I’m a Crane and he was tight with Gram.

Once the forest is clear, apart from Abe, I feel Nysso’s presence emerge. The air begins to crackle with electricity, and there’s a stillness that falls over the forest that might otherwise seem ominous, but once his deep voice fills the air, my lips spread into a smile. The branches of the tree I’m standing next to reach for me, and I reach back, allowing them to curl around my wrist as I gently rub their leaves.

“You’ve brought a machine to spy on me?” Nysso asks, the sound echoing through the trees. “Is this where our friendship has settled?”

“That’s my bodyguard, Nysso. He’s not spying on you. He’s watching me like a hawk in case of an emergency.”

“Ah, I’ve heard whispers about a failed kidnapping. The threat remains?”

I let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, yeah.”

The ground shakes with the force of his steps. Two centuries-old eastern white pines part, their roots moving with them, as Nysso emerges from between, eight feet tall with a head of spiky conifer leaves and a wide trunk with an endless stretch of carved muscles, thick branches for arms, and a split near the roots to make legs.

His branches cross over his chest as he looks down at Ziggy and me. “Who would you like me to obliterate?”

I wave a dismissive hand. “The committee is on it. Don’t worry about me. I just wanted to say hi and let you know I’m okay.”

She’s not okay, but the committee is on it. That part is true, I hear Ziggy send Nysso.

He chuckles, rattling the ground beneath us. “I appreciate your candor, feline.”