“I’ll get it, Mom,” Bryony said, brushing her off. “Don’t worry about it.”
Naomi studied her for a moment then nodded. “I appreciate it, thank you.”
Bryony trudged up the stairs to her room, dragging her feet. The stairway was narrow and twisting, full of sharp, angled corners at the bottom and smoothing out into a whirling snail’s shell of a spiral toward the top before it opened up onto the low-ceilinged attic.
There was a chair by the window—an old, rickety thing, with pale scratch marks etched into the dark wood. The hum of conversation accompanied by the clink of dinner dishes was muted and distant up here to the point that she almost couldn’t hear anything.
Bryony dropped onto the edge of her bed, elbows propped on her knees, and she bowed her head. It had been a long day and she was ready to sink into her pillow and forget about everything for a few blissful hours in sleep.
“Bryony,” a quiet voice whispered from the stairs.
She crossed the room to peer out the door. Olive was halfway up the stairs, a tray of food carefully clutched between her hands, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration as she maneuvered the staircase without spilling dinner.
“Olive, what are you doing?” Bryony said. She cast a spell to levitate the tray from Olive’s grip and it floated up the stairs. She guided it onto the bedside table before she turned back to Olive and offered her hand to steady her sister as she climbed the rest of the way up to the attic.
“It’s too loud downstairs,” Olive said. “I told Mom I wanted to eat dinner up here with you.”
Bryony raised her eyebrows. “And she said yes?”
Olive shrugged. “I promised we’d wash all the dishes later. But yeah, she finally agreed.”
“I’ll take dishes over dinner with Sean any day of the week,” Bryony muttered as she cleared a space on her bed for the tray. Olive scrambled up onto the mattress, tucked her legs under her, and set a spoon in each of the bowls of pot roast.
“He doesn’t seem so bad,” Olive replied.
Bryony squinted one eye at her. “As I recall, you made a break for it the first chance you got.”
Olive ducked her head. “I didn’t know what to say. But…”
She trailed off as she focused on putting a pinch of pepper into her bowl.
“But what?” Bryony prompted.
“But I’m not…like…crazy about him the way Seline is. She won’t stop talking about him. It’s getting…”
“Annoying?” Bryony offered.
Olive blew out a breath. “Yeah. A little.”
“Well, it’s a Sean-free zone up here. So we can enjoy our dinner and talk about anything you’d like to.”
Olive perked up, hugging her bowl of pot roast close to her chest. Her dark brown eyes went bright with excitement.
“Like teaching me how to carve pumpkins this year for Samhain?” she said.
“If that’s what you want.”
Olive nodded, a slow, careful smile slowly blossoming across her shy face.
“Then we’ll get started tomorrow,” Bryony said.
Olive never asked for anything and Bryony was more than happy to grant this simple request, especially if it meant she got a break from training Sean for a taste of what a normal life was like before he came in and upended everything.
***
After dinner, Bryony and Olive remained in the attic, practicing carving spells on the leftover potatoes in their stew. If the spells went haywire, they wouldn’t do anything to the house since they were virtually harmless at this size. And if Naomi came up to ask them why they weren’t socializing downstairs, she was less likely to reprimand them since they were practicing magic.
Eventually, Bryony heard Sean make his excuses and leave. As soon as the front door was closed, Naomi called up the stairs.
“Bryony and Olive,” she said. “Dishes are all yours.”
Olive scrambled down the stairs, eager to carry out her end of the deal. Bryony followed at a slower pace, knowing Naomi would be waiting to talk to her as soon as she left the safe, neutral territory of her room.
Sure enough, Naomi was in the kitchen, a pile of clothes in ned of mending before her as she cast stitching charms to sew up the holes in the knees of pants, and the tears in elbows of shirts.
“You disappeared at dinner, Bryony,” Naomi said. “Are you feeling all right?”
For a moment, Bryony considered pointing out that her seat had been given to Sean and there was no place for her at the table. But in the end, she decided she was too tired for an argument. Naomi would claim that she was looking after a guest and Bryony wasn’t in the mood to hear anyone else come to Sean’s defense.
“Just tired,” Bryony said. “It’s been a long day.”
She hoped that was the end of the conversation. But Naomi plowed on.
“I’m so glad we took Sean on,” she said. “He’s excellent with the kids. Very patient with Seline, even though she hangs all over him like a puppy dog. And he was mentoring Basil over dinner. Basil, that poor boy, he’s smart but he needs work on his levitation. Sean gave him a few pointers.”
Bryony sighed as she turned to the sink, dishes piled high and spilling over the counter. Olive narrowed her eyes in concentration, raised her wand and began to cast a spell to bring soapy suds bubbling up in the sink, a bowl rising into the air, dripping with water. Bryony swooped in with her own magic to support Olive’s wavering witchcraft and together they got the dishes into a pattern of scrub, rinse, and dry.
“How did Sean’s first day of work go by the way?” Naomi asked.
“Fine,” Bryony replied.
Naomi paused to look at Bryony.
“That’s it?” she said. “Just fine?”
Bryony shrugged. “He weeded the greenhouses. There’s not much finesse to that. I’ll put him to harder work tomorrow. The pumpkins could use a little fattening up. The gourds are still too spindly for a Samhain harvest. So he’ll need to get those growing double-time.”
Naomi made a small, thoughtful noise. “Well, I hope he settles in okay. It’s nice to have such a polite gentleman around the house.”
Bryony coughed. “Saint Circe above,” she mumbled. “Grant me strength.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
In the morning, the rustle of paper next to Bryony’s hand woke her. She sat up and cold autumn air swept across her sleep-warm skin. She squeaked and burrowed under the covers, snaking two fingers out from beneath the blankets to grab the letter tucked beneath the corner of her pillow.
It was a note from Hazel. Her crow probably tried to drop it off at Bryony’s window but she had slept too hard to hear it tapping at the glass. So the crow must have left the note on the porch where Naomi found it and brought it up to her.
Bryony opened the letter to find Hazel’s neat, precise handwriting in purple, looping ink.
Dearest Bryony,
Sky and I are having breakfast at The Eye of Newt this morning and we would love it if you would join us before your boy trouble begins for the day.
Sincerely, Hazel Aven
Bryony swept the covers aside and grabbed her boots. In less than two minutes, she was dressed in black leggings, combat boots, and a pumpkin orange top with small acorns scattered across the hemline. She snatched her witch’s hat from where she’d left it on the bedpost the night before and crammed it onto her head as she clattered down the stairs.
“Bryony?” Naomi called from the living room. “Where on earth are you off to at this hour? The sun’s barely up.”
“I’m having breakfast with Sky and Hazel,” she said.
“But Sean’s coming over for work.”
“That’s an hour away, at least. I’ll be back before then.”
“All right. Say hi to the girls for me.”
“I—“
Bryony broke off as two tiny hands latched around her leg. She looked down to see Poppy gazing up at her.
“Up,” she said.
“No, pu
mpkin,” Bryony said, peeling her little sister off of her leg. “I’m sorry but you can’t go with me this time.”
Poppy’s green eyes went wide, tears pooling close to her long, dark lashes.
“No, no, no, don’t cry,” Bryony said, peppering Poppy’s face with kisses. “I’ll be back before you know it. But you have to guard my bed for me. You have to keep it warm while I’m gone.”
Poppy sniffed, rubbing the back of her hand against her eye. At least the tears had abated.
“Can you do that for me?” Bryony said.
Poppy nodded. Bryony set her down on the floor and Poppy headed for the stairs, working her way up to the attic. Bryony sent a scoop of magic up the stairs, cradling Poppy’s back to make sure she didn’t fall until Poppy finally climbed into Bryony’s bed and burrowed beneath the blankets.
Bryony slipped out the door, easing it shut behind her. She retrieved her broomstick from the row of hooks on the porch and she shot into the air, soaring high above the sprawling town of Wildemoore, splashed with glowing autumn colors.
She sailed higher and higher despite the growing cold of the thinner atmosphere, until she was wreathed in clouds and she couldn’t see the ground. She couldn’t see the thatched roofs of the houses or the chimneys with their pale gray curls of smoke, threading out into the peach-colored dawn.
It was tempting to stay in the sky, to never go back to Pagan Posies, to keep flying, no matter where it might take her as long as it was away from here, away from Sean.
But she didn’t want to miss the chance to talk to Sky and Hazel. The Samhain celebration was always hosted at Pagan Posies and it carried a whirlwind of chaos with it, taking up every spare minute of Bryony’s time. Hazel was busy at school. Sky had her tearoom to run. It was the busiest time of the year for all three of them and it meant that they didn’t often get to see each other as often as they would like to.
Bryony directed her broom downward and she coasted to a stop in front of The Eye of the Newt—the local bakery and coffee shop where many of Bryony’s best batches of fresh fruit harvests were folded into flaky pastries and sugary pies.
As soon as she stepped in, the scent of spiced cider encircled her in warmth and comfort. She spotted Hazel and Sky at a table by the window.
Every table at The Eye of Newt was cast with a magic spell for a unique dining experience. Some tables had rustling autumn leaves overhead. Others made it seem as if you were sitting in a galaxy of purple and blue stars.
Sky and Hazel had chosen a table that made it seem as if they were seated at the edge of a babbling brook with fat grey stones covered in a carpet of lush green moss. Fiery red and gold leaves drifted down the stream now and then, followed by a bird bathing in the water, sending phantom droplets scattering across the linen tablecloth.
“Bryony!” Sky squealed. She jumped up, sending her chair clattering to the floor and she flung her arms around Bryony’s neck. “Oh, I’ve missed you. It’s been ages since we last talked. I’m so sorry I haven’t been helping much with the Samhain preparations.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Bryony replied. “You have plenty of other things going on.”
Hazel rose from her chair at a slower pace, smoothing down the black suit jacket she wore. She greeted Bryony with air kisses on each cheek.
“I hope everything is going well at home?” she said with a meaningful gleam in her eye.
Bryony hitched one shoulder up in a half shrug. “It could be better.”
Sky glanced between Bryony and Hazel.
“Is something wrong?” she ventured, her voice climbing in pitch with concern.
“Nothing to worry about, Sky,” Bryony replied. “How’s the tearoom?”
For the next half an hour, Sky talked about business at the tearoom. She tried to carefully skirt around any mention of Aiden but he still managed to slip into the conversation now and then—trips to Spellbound, magic lessons, teaching him how to make a proper cup of tea. She wasn’t the type to rub Bryony’s nose in it that Sky had a boyfriend and Bryony didn’t.
But Bryony could tell she was brimming with happiness, glowing with this new person in her life who was supportive, kind, and patient. If Aiden had been anything less than that, Bryony wouldn’t have tolerated his presence around Sky for a moment.
Sky touched two fingers to her lips, finally stilling the stream of words that had passed over breakfast. She waved to Hazel and Bryony.
“I’m talking far too much,” she said. “I want to hear about how everything’s going at Windywings with your students, Hazel. And at Pagan Posies, Bryony. I need to stop by for a visit. It’s been…” She paused and frowned. “How long has it been since I was there?”
“Three weeks,” Bryony replied in a flat voice, measured and devoid of resentment. She turned the resentment inward instead rather than hurt Sky. It wouldn’t be fair to demand Sky’s time away from Aiden who made her so light and happy.
Sky’s expression fell. “Oh, no. That’s…that’s just…horrible of me. I’ll have to fix that as soon as possible.”
“It’s fine,” Bryony said, waving her off. “It’s a crazy time of year. I get it. Besides, I have to train Sean and that takes up most of the day anyway.”
Silence fell over the table. As soon as the words were out of Bryony’s mouth, she realized what she’d just admitted to.
“Sean O’Hara?” Sky ventures carefully. “I didn’t know he was in town.”
Bryony shrugged. She took an apple crumble muffin from the plate at the center of the table, picking at it as an excuse to avoid Sky’s gaze. Her appetite was gone, again, over the mention of Sean. She really needed to get away from the topic of him. Otherwise, she would starve.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sky whispered, her voice soft with hurt.
Bryony hissed a breath through her teeth at Sky’s tone. She shoved her muffin away, stomach a tangled mass of black guilt. No, definitely not eating anything now.
She didn’t keep secrets from Sky before. They had always been transparent with each other. Sky couldn’t lie to save her life anyway. And Bryony appreciated having someone closer to her own age to talk to and confide in, rather than rampant siblings scrambling around her feet all the time.
But Sean had been a secret and she hadn’t even realized it. Bryony had kept all of this from Sky.
“It just hadn’t come up yet,” Bryony said with a shrug. Although she knew that was the coward’s excuse and it felt sour on her tongue. “And…” She pushed her witch’s hat a little further back on her head. “And you’re dating Aiden. You always have a smile on your face. I didn’t want to…you know…ruin that for you with my problems.”
“Bryony, no,” Sky said. She reached across the table and took Bryony’s hand. “You’re my best friend. Yes, Aiden is important to me. But you are, too. I know Sean’s appearance must have been hard on you and I want to be there for you, to support you if you need it.”
Hazel said nothing. She simply stared at Bryony with a knowing look that said, there’s more but you’re not telling the whole story.
And Hazel was right. She always was.
Bryony didn’t want to tell Sky about Sean because Sky was in love. Bryony wasn’t.
She wasn’t jealous of Sky. But it seemed as if Sky had ventured into territory where Bryony couldn’t follow. And that hurt more than anything else.
“Besides,” Bryony said. “It’s Samhain. We’re all busy.”
It was a placation and Sky knew it. Hazel knew it too. She withdrew from the table, leaning back in her chair. Her expression went stony with disappointment that Bryony had taken such an impersonal route of escape.
Sky retreated too. She slowly pulled her hands away from Bryony, fiddling with her spoon, the silver clanking against the saucer of her teacup.
“But,” she whispered. “We’ve never been too busy for each other.”
“Yeah, well, you throw a boyfriend into the mix and suddenly things aren’t the way they used to be.”
Bryony could have slapped herself for how bitter and mean that sounded.
But she was hurt. Hurt that she felt like she was losing her best friend to a guy. Hurt that things were changing too fast and she couldn’t make it slow down or stop. Hurt that everything she had loved—Samhain with her best friends, the company of her family—seemed to be slipping from her grasp.
For the first time in her life, Bryony Torres was scared of something. She was terrified she was becoming obsolete and no longer wanted. Pushed out in favor of someone else, like Aiden who was kind and gentle. Like Sean who was sweeter-tongued than she had ever been, ready with compliments and flattery where Bryony had only insults to fire off.
“Bryony,” Sky started in a pleading voice.
But Bryony was already fleeing the table. “Don’t,” she said. “It’s fine.”
“It doesn’t sound fine to me.”
Bryony sighed and tapped two fingers on the table to get Sky to look at her.
“Are you happy?” she said.
“Yes,” Sky said without hesitation.
“Then I’m happy,” Bryony replied, pasting on a smile in an attempt to put Sky at ease.
But it was a false one and that was obvious by the unconvinced look on Sky’s face. A quiet weight settled over the table. Hazel sipped her tea in silence, her shoulders rigid, chin tilted to the side. Bryony couldn’t meet her eye, knowing Hazel would be looking at her with reproach for handling this whole situation so poorly.
“I should be heading back,” Bryony said. “A lot to do before Samhain.”
“I can help,” Sky offered.
Bryony should have been the one to reach out and amend the mess she’d made. She had delivered more than one underhanded jibe toward Sky today just because she was scared of being unwanted and that wasn’t fair. Hazel and Sky had invited her to breakfast after all. They could have enjoyed a peaceful meal without her presence if they truly didn’t want Bryony to join them.
Spelled Kiss (Coven Corner Book #2) Page 5
