27

Spell

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” CALLA GRUMBLED. She watched in frustration as the silver wisp of magic faded from a leaf.

Nearby, Leigh lauded over Wilber as he ran circles around Pye and Mischief. As the twig-trots chased after him they kicked up grass, red flowers, and dirt. Somewhere deep in the Agrestal a bird loudly cawed as the sun began to sink under the trees.

So behind…oh, so behind, Calla thought. She laid out dried herbs on the ground.

After that whole Runnelloom disaster, Calla realized she had less time to train for the trials coming up soon. It doesn’t help I’m still so far from earning a staff, she thought. Even with helping out at Dawnri’s and at Leigh’s, gathering enough pences was tough.

Calla picked up the frayed leaf and tossed it aside. It could no longer be used.

What am I doing wrong? Calla thought. Sure the spell was a tad more complex, but it was similar enough to the ones she’d cast before.

As she dug through her pocket, a laugh broke her from her thoughts. The calf had sneezed, causing Pye to skitter back nervously. He and Mischief gawked at the creature towering over them.

Calla sighed. She had asked Leigh to observe her herb-casting spells to see if she noticed anything off—which she often agreed to do—but with Wilbur, her attention had been shaken every time she cast a spell.

Calla frowned. She couldn’t bring herself to ask Leigh to help, not when she herself felt the calf needed attention more than ever.

Might as well go down to the shop, Calla thought. Undoubtedly, the shopkeeper had left work piling up while Calla had gone to Runnelloom.

Calla whistled and Mischief and Pye ran over. Leigh looked up from petting Wilbur’s head, surprised.

“You’re leaving already?” she asked.

“Yeah, I probably have work waiting for me at Dawnri’s shop,” Calla said.

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you then,” Leigh said. “Oh, and don’t forget, tomorrow you’re helping to work the booth. I have to watch Wilbur during the day till my pa and grandpa finish repairing the west fence, I get so nervous he’ll wander out.”

“Calla!” called a familiar voice.

The two turned to see a yellow flower-elf hurrying towards them, her long green cloak blowing in the wind.

Calla’s eyes widened. “Saffron?”

Leigh blinked. “You didn’t say your sister was visiting.”

Calla frowned. “She isn’t.”

As Saffron reached them, her words tumbled out. “I looked…everywhere,” she panted, “but honestly, in hindsight, I should’ve checked here first.” She straightened up. “I could’ve sworn you’d be by the old pond.”

Calla looked at her, “Why would I be there?”

“Isn’t that where you Nutmeg would hang out?” Saffron asked.

Calla felt a rush of annoyance. “Nutmeg? You mean Nutmeg Marrowwaters? He moved away two years ago.”

Leigh nodded. “Yeah, it’s been a while since we’ve seen him.”

Saffron squinted at her. “I’m sorry, I forgot. You’re…”

“Leigh Briar,” Leigh said, “and this little wilder is Wilbur.” She pointed at the calf as he tried to nibble a fleeing Pye’s tail.

“Right, now I remember!” Saffron said, maybe a little too cheerfully.

Calla folded her arms. “Why are you here anyway? Don’t you have important Keeper business to attend to?”

Saffron sighed. “Look, I know you’re still mad but I came here because there’s something important we need to discuss. So could we please put aside what happened and talk.”

Calla hesitated. “Sure, all right. But we can talk at Dawnri’s shop.”

And without waiting for a response, Calla turned and began to walk.

Saffron groaned as she followed. “Woe is me, not a moment to catch my breath.”

“IT’S JUST SO NICE TO see you again, Saffron,” Dawnri said gleefully. “You know, you’ve gotten a lot taller!”

“It’s nice to see you too,” Saffron said, “and thanks.”

“I hope those Keepers have been treating you well,” the thistle-headed shopkeeper added.

“They…have,” Saffron answered awkwardly. She obviously wasn’t going to bring up the failure that was her first mission.

Calla snickered. “You’re so awkward,” she teased.

Saffron shot her an annoyed look.

Dawnri clapped her hands together. “I wish I could stay and catch up,” she apologized, “but I have a meeting with a local potter. I’m considering selling some of his wares in the shop.” She turned to Calla. “After sweeping, you can organize those small jars in the back. You remember how it’s done?”

“Alphabetically,” Calla finished.

Dawnri nodded. “Yes, not by blooming season—hopefully it’ll cut down the questions by customers. I’ll be back before nightfall.”

As Dawnri stepped out, Calla picked up a broom from against the wall and began to sweep. Saffron stepped out of the way and watched her curiously.

“So, you were serious about working here,” she remarked. “I thought you were kidding when you said that on the way here.”

Calla shrugged. “It’s temporarily to help pay for a new staff.”

She froze as the words slipped out.

Saffron eyed her. “What happened to your old staff?”

Calla’s mind raced as she thought of an excuse. But she blanked, so she answered the only way she could.

“It…broke,” Calla confessed. “I was using it to practice spells one night and it splintered into pieces. Dawnri couldn’t fix it so now I’m trying to earn enough for a new one.”

Calla’s heart pounded as she braced herself for Saffron’s reaction. She waited for the yelling about how irresponsible and thoughtless she was to break it.

Instead, Saffron shook her head. “I’m sorry that happened,” she said with sympathy.

Calla stopped sweeping. “You mean…you aren’t mad?”

Saffron shook her head. “Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t break sooner. It was old and was hardly keeping together. I am going to miss seeing it, though.”

Calla nodded. It still felt strange to her not to be carrying it around.

Saffron leaned against a shelf as she took in the view of cluttered jars, pens, quills, wood, tools.

“I don’t know why I was so afraid of coming back here,” she said.

Calla looked at her. “You were afraid?”

Saffron laughed. “Yep, I know it sounds ridiculous, but…” She paused and shook her head. “I don’t know how explain it, but I just felt a strange sadness and queasiness last time I was here. I mean as much as I miss being back at our cottage—I don’t know. I bet I’m not making any sense, am I?”

Calla said, “I think I know what you’re talking about.”

Saffron looked away. “I had a feeling you did so I came back when I realized,” she sniffed. “What a terrible sister I’ve been.”

Calla blinked. That was not what she was expecting to hear.

“I mean I left you here,” she said, “and when you came all the way from Red Heath I got so tangled up in worrying what the Keepers thought about everything, I left you out of all of it.” Tears welled in her eyes. “No wonder Pye, Thimble, and Mischief hate me.”

Calla shook her head. “They don’t hate you and you’re not a terrible sister.” She glanced at the window. Faded beams of sunlight sliced through, illuminating the room in a hazy orange. “I shouldn’t have said—well, what I said back on the mission. I know you’re trying your best to follow in Mom’s footsteps, and I should’ve supported you. I mean they are pretty big steps to fill.”

“They are,” Saffron said, she brushed away a tear. “It still doesn’t excuse me for being horrible.”

“You’re not horrible,” Calla pressed. “If anything I’m the horrible sister.”

“Well,” Saffron said, “if you insist.”

“Hey!” Calla glared daggers at her.

Saffron grinned and shrugged. “You said it yourself!”

Then they did something they hadn’t done in a long time.

They laughed.

AS THE TWO SISTERS LEFT the shop, they each held up a glowing lantern to light the dirt path. Stars twinkled above as they made their way back to cottage, the twig-trots padding after them.

“I still can’t believe you came all this way to make an apology,” Calla said.

“Well, I had to,” Saffron said. “Also, it was easier since I didn’t have much to do since I was kicked off the mission.”

Calla cringed. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Saffron said. “They decided to return and reassess the situation after you took Thimble home. With all the evidence we’ve found, they’re starting to think there may be another cause for the dead wilders.”

“Figures,” Calla said.

Saffron glanced at her, the lantern illuminating her face. “How so?”

“Well,” Calla said, “I just had a feeling it was something different. I mean the toads and the winged-moose—it just seemed odd that they’d both be affected by the same plant like that.”

Saffron wasn’t convinced. “But the markings on all the creatures that have turned up look near identical.”

“True,” Calla said, “but I feel like if it was a magic plant there would be splotched lumps or a rash. If anything, I feel like it would have made more sense if—”

Calla stopped in her tracks.

Saffron looked at her. “What?”

Calla spoke as an unsettling thought crept into her mind The words of Captain Conifer echoed in her ears: “We aren’t sure if the cause is wilder, plant, or lark.”

Lark… she thought.

“Saffron, is there a chance that perhaps a spell was cast on them?” she asked.

“A spell?” Saffron paused to think. “I did suggest that, but Rowan shot it down. He said that there was no known spell that could inflict such damage.”

Calla wasn’t convinced. Even for a young, academy-less caster, she had enough knowledge to know the capabilities of spells.

“We need to head to the ravine,” Calla said. “The one near Leigh’s cottage.”

Saffron looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “At this hour? It’s near pitch black.”

“I know,” Calla said, “but if what I ‘m thinking is correct, Runnelloom may be in more trouble than we thought.”

Saffron grimaced. “But it’s going to be so cold and muggy in the ravine, and then the wattle-reed flies.”

“Saffron,” Calla pressed.

“Okay, fine,” she said. “You better be right Calla.”

Calla grinned. “Thank you. Now come on, it isn’t far.”

And with that, they set off for the ravine.