Chapter 8: Next

Emira sank into the couch with an explosive sigh. Sweat coated her brow. Her casting hand trembled faintly. She looked out of place—mundane—against the iridescent unicornhide sofa.

“We’re good,” she coughed.

Words spoken freely in Blight Manor still sounded wrong to Edric’s ears. Even though they’d already done this twice before. Portraits of Blights long passed lined the walls, gazing at them in lifeless judgment.

He tried to sound unconcerned when he asked, “You all right?”

“Yeah.” Emira mopped her forehead. “Worth it. Tonight will be…worth it.”

Parents out of town, house to themselves. Why not throw a party? Edric never thought he’d get the chance for something like this—not here, not in this house—until Emira had cracked the surveillance spell just a few weeks ago.

While Em recovered her magic, Ed began his illusions. Loudspeakers, lights, a mini-grudby table, and distinctly unrefined furniture to match. Warm-ups, spelled to vanish after a few minutes. He’d conjure the real stuff just before the first guests arrived.

“You talked to Mittens, right?” came Emira’s voice. “She won’t squeal on us?”

Edric stopped halfway through a spell circle. It sputtered and fizzled, the magic lost. “No. She’s not talking to me.”

His mind flashed back to their last conversation—abused my trust and can’t believe I opened up to you and asshole and jerk and—worst of all—horrible person, you know that?

Emira chuckled. “Sucks to be you.”

“Yeah.” He knew Em was joking. He shouldn’t mind. “I single-handedly fixed all her problems, set her up with a girl she’s too cockshit to ask out herself, and somehow I’m the bad guy?”

She grunted her indifference. Ed tried to get back to the illusions, but they kept coming out wrong. His chairs faced only left. His cups and pitchers cast no shadow. Rookie mistakes.

He met the gaze of Great-Great Grandma Amadamira Blight, eternally frozen in loving condescension, and scowled.

❀

The rhyme Eda had learned in high school—One to get buzzed, two to get wrecked, three to remember, four to forget—was wrong. Nine cans in, she felt utterly fine. Sleepy, maybe—she staggered from the kitchen to the living room, almost colliding with the wall, and collapsed sideways across an armchair—but fine. And she hadn’t forgotten yet. Fucking low-grade apple blood.

The second she lay down, the sound of clacking needles met her skull like a rabid jackhammer.

“Lilith,” she said. “Darling. Sister. Do you have to knit so loud?”

“I’m being completely silent.”

Eda threw up a little in her mouth and swallowed it before continuing. “To a deaf person, maybe. My ears are honed. I’ve got owl ears.”

“So do I,” said Lilith with an edge to her voice, “and I can’t hear a thing.” 

“I have owl ears, too, hoot!”

“Hey. Back me up, Hooty. She’s being super loud right now, right?” Maybe the dumb owl would come in handy.

“I cannot be an unbiased judge, hoot! Each vibration strikes a chord with my undying soul, hoot hoot!”

The words bounced around in Eda’s head for a moment, finding no purchase. “I think I’m dreaming.”

“You’re drunk, Edalyn.”

“Oh yeah.”

Eda drifted in and out of consciousness from then. In the morning, she would only remember two more snippets of conversation. (There might’ve been more—eight and a half cans would do that to a witch.)

First: “Luz is mad at me.”

Lilith sighed. “I’m sure she’ll come around.”

“Yeah. Prob’ly.”

Then, some unknown number of minutes or hours later: “Hey. Hey. Hey Lily.” 

No response—just the Titan-forsaken sound of needles rubbing yarn.

“Lilyyyyyyy.”

“ What? ”

Hah. It was funny when she got mad.

Eda collected her thoughts. “Remember when Dimitri slipped that…thing. Potion. Love thing. In my drink. Love potion.”

Silence. No words, no needles.

“Yes,” Lilith said finally. “Why do you ask?”

“Dunno. Guess it’s on my mind.”

“Being wooed by my little sister was, by far, the single most uncomfortable experience of my life. Personally, I’d rather forget about the whole ordeal.”

Eda grinned, craning her neck to look up at Lilith. “I’ve got a potion for that.”

❀

“I still can’t believe you guys don’t have beaches.” Luz stood with her arms outstretched, balancing on a thin outcrop of rock that ran alongside the main path. Her face scrunched up in determination as she took her next step.

Over the past few days—what little time they’d made between school and family—Amity had discovered just how much she loved looking at Luz. Of course, this wasn’t exactly new. But it was different, now that they were dating. She didn’t have to worry that Luz would catch her staring and get weirded out. Luz actually liked it when Amity stared at her. What a world.

Before them rose a sheer osseous wall, caked with moss and crisscrossed with winding paths—one of the Titan’s ribs, although they were too close to appreciate the true shape. Somewhere up the cliff lay the entrance to the Whistling Caves. Amity had only heard stories of the mystical oath crabs who lived here. Before they began their hike, however, Luz had insisted on trying to balance-walk her way across the outcrop—and Amity was happy to oblige.

“What are beaches?” she asked, finally taking the bait.

Luz grinned as she teetered. “They’ve got like…sand, and water, aaaaand woah, woah! ”

Amity reacted without thinking. Before she knew it, she’d grabbed Luz by the small of her back, entirely supporting the human’s weight. Their faces were very close. Luz’s flushed expression must have matched Amity’s own.

Then Luz grinned, leaned forward, and pecked Amity on the lips. Amity found herself short-circuiting, overwhelmed—it was all she could do not to drop her girlfriend.

Luz righted herself with a self-satisfied smirk and made for the bone wall. “That’s basically it. Sand and water. Oh! I guess it has to be salt water specifically. Although my mom did used to bring me to this pond when I was little…”

As Luz prattled on without so much as sparing a glance over her shoulder, Amity found herself infuriated. But in a good way. This, too, she’d learned over the last few days: the difference between good-infuriated and bad-infuriated. Luz was teasing her, deliberately, and Amity quite enjoyed it.

She jogged to catch up. Luz stopped mid-sentence when Amity embraced her from behind, wrapping her arms around Luz’s stomach and pressing her face against her back.

“Sounds pretty boring,” Amity said.

“What? Nah, beaches are the best.”

She moved as if to escape, but Amity tightened her grasp. It was a game they’d played too many times to count, in the handful of hours they’d found alone. Luz struggled for a minute or two, and Amity restrained her easily. (Was Luz holding back, or were humans actually this weak?) Finally, she relaxed into Amity’s embrace, signaling the end of the game.

They stayed like that for a minute, Amity hugging Luz from behind—loosely, now. Enjoying the chill breeze on her back and the warmth of her girlfriend’s body. Enjoying…just enjoying.

Luz sighed, sounding utterly content. “I love you.”

Amity squeezed Luz, then planted a kiss between her shoulder blades.