by J L Collins
Aunt Bee rolled her eyes, not doing a thing to hold back the chuckling. “You should know better than that. And that.”
I blew on it harder after the second attempt, determined to eat the bite without burning my tongue off. “I can’t. Help. It.”
She rolled her eyes again, still smiling. “I think that was my best one yet. And the Archmage’s wife will be very… pleased.”
“And I don’t suppose you’ll be a little less cryptic since you’re mentioning it again?”
She shook her head, the endless flames from the lanterns glowing brightly in the reflection of her glasses. “No, I don’t think I will.”
I shrugged, no longer caring and only worrying about stuffing the next bite of cobbler into my mouth.
After finishing my ridiculous love affair with a dessert, I thanked Aunt Bee for the food and took my sampler upstairs, tucking it into the dresser on my side of the room. “One day I’ll conquer you. But that day is not today.”
“Are you talking to yourself again?”
I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t we have a conversation about this very thing? About how we need to reestablish personal boundaries. Starting with my room?”
Oisín stalked out from underneath my bed, giving me an indifferent look. “This isn’t your room.”
“Semantics. The point is that you’re intruding.”
His tail swished as he jumped up to the top of the dresser where a glass bottle of perfume—an antique of Aunt Ginny’s—was placed a little too close to the edge for my comfort. He blinked at me and looked at the bottle. “I’ll have you know that this was my room long before it was ever yours.”
“Mmhmm. I’ve gotta change into my clothes for this evening so if you could… you know.. skedaddle. That would be lovely.” I shooed at him, freezing when he stuck out a paw merely an inch away from the bottle. A single claw slid out from his paw, his usual threatening move. Really it was all he had, in comparison to pretty much everything else he used to be able to do as a Witch.
“I mean, if you want to upset Aunt Ginny, then by all means. Though I doubt she’ll let you just roam around the manor house freely after,” I said, calling his bluff. I knew he was still pretty fond of her. She was one of the only people who would tolerate his crap and still turn around and feed him.
“You’ve made your point,” he said. “This place is in need of a desperate revamping, however. Wallpaper? So last life.”
“When was your last life anyway? You never really talk about it.” I said, remembering how much he avoided the topic of his final life. Whatever he’d done it must have been a doozy. Even as a cat he’s still not allowed inside the MARC at all.
He hissed. “I don’t recall requesting a past life therapy session from you.”
“See? That right there is why people avoid you. You don’t have to be so snarky all the time, you know.”
His slender shoulders shifted under his fur as he shrugged. “And who says I mind? I’d much rather people avoid me. I’m not really a people person as you might have guessed.”
“You’re not an any kind of person,” I muttered as he strolled out of the room, his tail high in the air.
By the time I had fixed my attire and even did something with my hair—my lilac hair left in loose waves half-down and half-up—I felt presentable enough to be seen for our traditional holiday meal. After that it would be time to light the Yule log and say our yearly incantations for good luck. Something told me we would need to focus a good bit on that part.
“You look nice, Gwennie,” Isobel said warmly, passing me by on my way back downstairs. “I’ve just got to check and make sure Sean is actually finished getting ready, and I’ll be right down.”
“I’ll let your mom know,” I called back over my shoulder. “We know how much of a stickler for being on time she is.”
Before I knew it, I was in the dining room standing at the head of the table and looking down the length of it at all of the delicious dishes neatly sitting out.
Yule pudding, Aunt Bedelia’s pies and cobblers, roast duck. Nearly all of my favorite Winter Solstice foods were out and ready for me to dig into.
“Careful not to get that drool all down the front of your pretty dress,” Reaghan snickered as she walked past me toward the other end of the table.
I rolled my eyes and scanned the rooms adjacent, looking to see if Fiona-Leigh was ready too.
Aunt Ginevra was busy putting the finishing touches on the table décor; red sparkling flames glittered from each floating candle high above the tabletop, with enchanted snow falling from the ceiling above them. The snow disappeared as soon as it reached the flickering candles, giving off a beautiful glow.
“Hey Aunt Ginny, Isobel wanted me to let you know she’ll be down in a few minutes.”
She nodded, entranced in what she was doing. “Thank you, lass.”
To help speed things along because let’s be real, I could smell all the deliciousness coming from the kitchen and I was pretty famished as it was, I set the rest of the tableware, trying to remember which went where. Both Aunt Ginevra and Aunt Bedelia were in and out of the kitchen, bringing the rest of the remaining dishes out.
It didn’t take long for the scent of baked goods and roast meats to trickle through the house, and before I knew it, the sounds of footsteps came from each way into the room.
Chairs were being pulled out left and right as the rest of my family came to settle into the dining room. Reaghan and her crew were all seated toward the center of the table across from Fiona-Leigh and I, with Erie on Fi’s right and Houghlin on the other side of Erie. Aunt Bedelia sent wine glasses already half-full to all the adults at the table with a wry smile, before sitting down and placing a linen napkin in her lap next to me. Isobel, her kids, and Lyanna settled in on either side of Reaghan’s family, and as usual, Uncle Gardner and Aunt Ginevra sat at either end of the long table.
Oisín looked rather put out, sitting on a table that had been specially set aside just for him. A small plate of homemade pâté sat at his black furry feet, but there was a very prominent look of greed on his face as he stared at the rest of the food.
I made a mental note to save him some scraps for later.
“You look beautiful, honey,” I said to Fi, glad to see she still had the pearl earrings I’d given her at the beginning of the summer that used to be my mother’s. Her red locks were pulled up off her neck in a double-braided updo, sure to be the work of Lyra, and someone—probably Lyra again—had given her a silver gossamer dress to wear that was cut right below the knees.
Her smile was crooked but warm. “Thanks, Mom. You do, too.”
At one end of the table, Uncle Gardner stood back up, more effectively than a fork on stemware, he quieted the chatter at once. “Ginevra and I would like to welcome you all back home for the annual Winter Solstice dinner. This year as we all know, has been full of quite a many surprise. The most important of which, is that we’ve welcomed two of our own back into Spell Haven. This will be the very first Winter Solstice celebration we’ve had, with every family member in attendance. So, here’s to you, Gwendolyn and Fiona-Leigh, for closing the circle that remained open for far too long,” he said, holding up his wineglass to toast us.
Everyone followed suit and out of the corner of my eye, I could make out the blush in Fi’s cheeks.
“To Gwendolyn and Fiona-Leigh!” they all cheered with smiles.
Dinner with the whole of our family was just as chaotic and wonderful as I had remembered—with the extra caveat that I added to the mix with my own kid. She complained to herself about the meat on the table, but heartily dug into the fig pudding and warm breads like there was no tomorrow.
I did my best to savor every bit of it—Uncle Gardner was right about the circle finally being closed. On our end as well as theirs, and maybe I was only just realizing this now. But I didn’t want to spend too much time dwelling on the past now.
Once everyone was pretty much stuffed and ready to retire
from the table (after more than one extra helping), Aunt Ginny stood up at her end this time.
“And now it’s time for gift-giving. Has everyone placed their presents below the fir tree?” Aunt Ginny asked, pushing her chair in. The lot of us all followed suit, with Uncle Gardner at the other end of the table, last.
“Yep.”
“I did.”
“Ours are under it.”
“I think so.”
I nudged Fi with my elbow. “Here we go.”
“That sounds promising,” she mumbled. “I’ve been to a lot of Christmas parties where they pass around cheesy gifts. This isn’t one of those deals, is it?”
I shook my head. “No. These are real gifts. They’re just… usually pretty interesting choices, is all. And you saw how many they had upstairs, right?”
My words were no lie. Gift after gift was opened, with some being the perfect presents—like the wand sheath Fiona-Leigh had bought me from the Market—and some bordering on outlandish.
Dromythyus handed Reaghan a small box that looked like it was surely holding a piece of jewelry. Imagine her surprise when she opened it all excited, only to find a miniature of an ugly Dwarf with white feathered wings flittering out of it, wearing a diaper and holding a big red key with a little stand that read ‘You hold the key to my heart! Will you move in with me?’
She sat, staring at the garish-looking thing in her hand, screeching when it struggled to fly up into her face and instead, managed to bury itself into her hair, sending Reaghan galloping throughout the parlor, trying to curse the thing away.
I knew for a fact that at least Erie and I tried to look away and pretend not to have noticed the embarrassing rejection Reaghan had given the poor guy when he begged for her forgiveness.
Fiona-Leigh sat with her back against the sofa below me, already flipping through the inscribed copy of ‘Following the Foragers – A Field Guide to Forest Dwellers in the Amaranth Forest’ I’d given her. “Whoa, red foxes are rare here? I’ve seen a ton of them back home. Trippy…” she mumbled, looking at a picture of a family of foxes tucked into a den in the woods.
At some point, she, Lyra, Ciara, and Reaghan’s middle daughter Helene, had pulled Brennrie upstairs to get her ready for her and Tristan’s night at the Gala. Fi wasn’t usually into getting dressed up and all, but I felt like maybe having an actual Fairy to dress up was a call for the occasion.
Erie and Houghlin were busy telling me about their next trip to the Beguiled Mountains for research into her next book, when a very obviously faked trumpet horn sounded, echoing across the room from over by the main staircase. Fi and the other three girls were there, positively beaming.
“We announce the beautiful Brennrie and her date for the evening, Tristan Brady!” she called out, giving a little curtsy to my brother.
Soft music played as Tristan went to stand at the bottom of the staircase. He had combed his hair back some, and even his five o’clock shadow was gone, leaving him not quite baby-faced with the jawline he got from our dad. He looked a lot like Dad… Erie and I made our way over to watch.
“Well, look at you. You clean up pretty nicely, Tris,” I smiled, pretending to dust off his shoulder. “The last time I saw you wear a suit was at a wedding. I think you were nine. And about half my size. Oh man, I’m old.”
“Don’t sound so shocked,” he said, grinning down at me. “We all knew you were getting up there.”
“I will so mess up the twenty minutes you just spent on your hair, I swear to you,” I said under my breath. “If I’m old, you’re not far behind.”
Fiona-Leigh yanked at my arm, pulling me backward. “Shh. You’re going to ruin the effect!”
Effect? What effect?
I didn’t have to wonder much longer—the music picked up tempo and at the top of the staircase stood Brennrie. Her long red hair which she usually had done up, was loose around her shoulders, still in soft and shiny waves. Her light blue eyes were lined in glitter and kohl, her lips a bright red to offset the sheen of her pale skin. She looked as if she belonged in a fairytale—the ones you’d read to your kids at night.
Everyone around me all collectively gasped as she took her time coming down the stairs. She’d paired the midnight blue velvet ballgown with matching elbow-length gloves and carried a small black purse at her side. Her face lit up the moment she noticed Tristan standing there, waiting for her.
“My lady,” he said as she descended the final few steps. He offered his hand and she took it, wearing an amused look on her face.
“You look quite handsome,” she replied, gesturing to his clothes and hair. “One would never know that only this morning you were trying to find the least-strenuous way to scratch your own back.”
He flushed but didn’t seem to care about the dig at him. “Are you ready for a night on the town?”
“I am, yes. But more importantly, I am ready for a night out on our own, with you.”
“I might hurl,” Sean whispered a little too loudly, garnering a dirty look from Brennrie before she and Tristan walked toward the door.
Aunt Bee stood back a little from the crowd of us, watching them with her eyes glistening. “As much as it pains me to have you leave before the lighting of the Yule Log, I am so very happy for you two. Please do have fun.”
The door opened on its own accord for Tristan and Brennrie, and the rest of us waved them off as he escorted her out to the carriage transport waiting out front—again, just like one of those fairytales Fiona-Leigh used to love. I was half-expecting it to turn into a pumpkin at midnight.
At least he got to be with his girlfriend tonight. I, on the other hand, would have to wait until Christmas night to even see Sully. He had no idea I was in another realm, much less surrounded with my Witchy family. And I couldn’t help but feel a little cheated that I couldn’t share this kind of night with both my family and him.
“All right everyone. I believe it’s time for the lighting of the Yule log. Please make your way into the sitting room,” Uncle Gardner announced a few minutes later, over the heads of all of us still lingering around the foyer.
It took a little while for every person left in the house to find a seat around the fireplace, but as soon as everyone was seated or left standing, in the cases of Houghlin and Dromythyus, Uncle Gardner went to the front.
He leaned over the woodpile and withdrew a log cut from one of the large oaks that grew right behind the property. It had already been stripped, with runes carved into it, and the holes bored in it were stuffed with dried herbs.
“First, we place the log.” He bent down, placing the piece of wood in the unlit hearth. “Ginevra? Do we have last year’s ashes?”
Aunt Ginny nodded, already holding the tin painted with a beautiful wintry scene. She popped the lid off to reveal bits of charred wood and ashes from last year’s Yule log. Fiona-Leigh watched inquisitively as Aunt Ginny passed it to her.
“I think it’s only fair that Fiona-Leigh gets her turn,” she said, smiling warmly at Fi as she took it. “Just pour these bits over the log there.”
“We keep these ashes to protect our home, to protect our family, to protect ourselves. May we be in good health all year round,” Uncle Gardner said proudly as she slowly dumped the old ashes and wood over top of the new piece. “Everyone, take your bay leaves and write your wish on them now.”
A long, dry bay leaf and quill and inkwell poofed into existence in front of each and every face in the room. Fiona-Leigh looked at me over the top of Lyra’s head as she carefully took the quill out to write. I wasn’t sure whether she found this more bizarre or not so surprising.
I glanced down at the bay leaf in my hand, scratching my usual wish on it. ‘Health. Happiness. Love.’ One by one, each of us finished up and the ink wells all disappeared.
“Now, the lights.” Uncle Gardner snapped his fingers and every single light in the entire house went out—all except the largest candle over the mantlepiece, its flame flickering eerily against th
e shadows and darkness.
He pulled at the flame’s light with the invisible use of magic until a separate flame was yanked away and carefully floated downward before diving down to its fate at the bottom of the Yule log. The log was engulfed with a bright blue blaze at first, everyone’s eyes wide as the flames calmed and turned to oranges and yellows.
“Your wishes. You may burn them in the fire.”
As always, the youngest went first, which meant Declan. Fiona-Leigh’s eyes were bright as she carefully dropped her leaf into the fire, and everyone after her did the same. When it was my turn, I looked down and realized I should’ve taken the time to come up with something a little less generic, but I threw my leaf into the fire anyway. There’d be next year, right?
“And now, the incantation,” Uncle Gardner’s voice was strong but quiet, and everyone else seemed to clear their throats in unison as he began. “May the log burn. May the wheel turn. May evil spurn. May the sun return.”
“May the log burn. May the wheel turn. May evil spurn. May the sun return!”
He repeated the incantation two more times, all of us in time with him. As he spoke the last of them, he snapped his fingers and all the lights in the manor house were restored. We all looked around, everyone smiling to themselves. Especially Fiona-Leigh. This was always one of my favorite parts, so it was nice to see her enjoying herself, too.
It was like everything had paused for a few minutes in the world, and all of it had come rushing back in at once. Everyone was chatting, getting up and moving, laughing. The younger kids were running around, chasing each other with wands.
I sat back on my heels, smiling. As nutty as the Brady family may have been, they were still my family. I was just as lucky as ever, to be a part of them.
9
Stealth Magic
It took some doing to sneak out of the house.
