The evening out with Jeremy left me energized and unsettled. I kept running the conversation over in my mind, marveling at the strangeness of the Old Country. Really, nobody talked to each other? What would that even be like? Surely he was exaggerating. I mean, it was almost too convenient, wasn’t it? Why even live in community if folks hid out in their own dwellings?
Why did Logan’s parents rush back there, only to disappear forever?
Finally, to distract myself, I climbed to my lab in the attic and put in a few good hours of work at the bench. Elnor was sacked out in the corner, and I was carefully pipetting a droplet of blood into a Petri dish when there was a sudden shriek in my head. Callie!!!
I dropped the pipette and jumped in alarm, startling Elnor awake. It took me a moment to realize that it was my student Gracie, and that the cry was coming through the æther. Gracie was a smart, accomplished witchlet…but she was also fifteen, and occasionally prone to dramatics.
What is it? I asked, putting my hand over my pounding heart.
Can I come over and see you RIGHT NOW?? PLEASE!!
Are you in danger?
There was a slight pause, then, You haven’t been here for dinner in AGES! I thought you were going to be here and you’re not!
I sighed, letting myself relax the rest of the way. Gracie. I come to every Tuesday dinner, and many others as well. You know that.
But I need to see you now! I’ve been waiting to talk to you for days!
I would have been well within my rights to close the connection until she could be more civil. But she was clearly distressed about something. Still, it was five in the morning, and I was, I suddenly realized, finally exhausted.
Is it something we can talk about this evening? I asked her. I promise I will be there for dinner tonight. I can even come an hour earlier and we can have a cup of tea or go for a walk or whatever you want. But I need to sleep now, and you probably should as well.
Another pause, then, Okay. Fine. I felt the connection snap shut.
I sighed again, so loud that Elnor woke up again and glanced over at me. “Teenage hormones, sweetpea,” I said, walking across the room and ruffling her ears. “Come on. Bedtime.”
I intended to nap for a few hours. Instead, I slept most of the day. Pregnancy will do that to you. Apparently Rosemary decided she needed the downtime, and I, as her mere vessel, her crucible, had no choice but to comply.
Or maybe we were both just busy incorporating all the calories from that giant Italian meal.
I did, however, remember my promise to Gracie. Elnor and I showed up at the coven house nearly two hours before dinner. My young student met us at the front door, her kitten at her heels. “Finally!”
“Gracie, what in the world is the matter?” I tried to pull her in for a hug, but she dodged it.
“You said we could go for a walk.” She pushed past me, hurrying out of the front garden and down the sidewalk without waiting for my response. Her dark hair fretted wildly about her head, and Minky (or Mynquie or however Gracie was spelling it today) darted along behind her. Elnor gave me an inquisitive glance.
I shrugged and started walking fast enough to catch up with the witchlet and her cat. We walked for a block in silence. I absently admired the fancy homes up here as I delicately probed Gracie’s magical output, hoping to get a sense of what could be on her mind. But she just marched along, fuming.
We turned a corner, bringing the Castro and Church neighbor-hoods into view, with downtown behind them. At last I could sense Gracie calming down—just a smidge, but enough that I felt I could begin to reach her. “We’ll need to head back for dinner before too long, so if you want to talk in private, we should probably get started,” I said.
She stopped on the sidewalk and turned to face me. “You’re leaving us!”
What? “I moved out months ago, dear. We’ve been over this. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You said you were going to raise the baby here and I was going to babysit! But Dr. Andromedus’s son offered you a big long contract! You’re going to quit the coven and leave us and move in with him!”
“Who told you such a thing? Was it Niad?”
“No! Mina and Kat said they heard it…somewhere. Everyone knows, all the coven sisters are talking about it.”
I shook my head. “Gracie, that is just not true. He did offer—”
“See! I knew it! Why are you—”
“But I told him no. Ages ago, before…everything.”
“What? Why?” Doubt was strong in her voice and painted all over her pretty face.
“Because I don’t actually want to leave the coven, and my life. Everything I told you before is still true.” I patted my swelling belly. “This doesn’t change what I fundamentally want out of life. And that is to keep doing my research, and to keep teaching science to you witchlets.” I smiled at her. “We need more genetics researchers, not fewer.” Now more than ever, I thought sourly. “Have you given any more thought to the direction of your life’s work?”
“No!” She tossed her dark curls, sending them twitching and shivering, and started walking again, her kitten darting between her feet. Gracie didn’t even seem to notice her; they were settling into one another’s energies well. “I don’t have to decide on anything yet. My mom says it’s way too early.”
“She’s not wrong,” I said. “I was just wondering.”
“Did you know you wanted to do biology research when you were my age?”
“Yes, I did. But then, I had the example of my father and…Dr. Andromedus.” I hurried on, hoping she wouldn’t notice my discomfort. “I’ve always been fascinated by what makes us tick. But I was unusual; most of my friends weren’t like this. Many witchlets choose their life path quite a bit later than fifteen. And you can always shift gears after the first fifty or a hundred years, if you decide you’ve gotten into the wrong field.”
“Yeah.” She kicked at a small stone, sending it skittering down the sidewalk. Minky darted after it. “I’m thinking maybe I want to act.”
“Act?” I blinked. Elnor strolled after Minky, pretending to supervise the kitten, but I noted her poorly suppressed interest in the bouncing pebble too. Speaking of acting.
“Yeah. Think how cool it would be to have magic in movies! I wouldn’t need a makeup artist or special effects or anything.” She reached up a finger, pulling a small thread of shadows around herself. Suddenly she looked ten years older.
“Gracie, that’s scary. You’re not serious, are you?”
“Why doesn’t anybody believe me! I thought you of all people would understand!” Now she was almost wailing once more.
“Stop shrieking!” I said, more sternly than I’d intended. Both cats turned and stared at me. I lowered my voice, and softened it. “If you want to act, I’m sure you can find a way to make it so.” Actually, the more I thought about it, bringing magic to the movies could be really interesting. Certainly many members of witchkind had successful careers on the stage. And Gracie did have a flair for the dramatic, to put it mildly. “In fact, I think you’re a natural for it.”
“You don’t have to humor me,” she said, sulking.
I laughed. “You’re proving my point. But I’m not humoring you at all. I was just surprised. You’ve never mentioned an interest in acting. You’ve never even mentioned movies.”
She shrugged, feigning boredom, but she was watching my face carefully. “I hadn’t really thought about it before, but I saw a documentary on actor kids, and it got me thinking…”
“I think it’s a perfectly fine thing to explore.” Who could I send her to, to mentor under? I had no idea. None of the local covens had anything to do with entertainment careers. “Let me talk to a few people and think about this a bit. For now, though, we should head back.”
She glanced in the direction of the coven house, not letting go of any of the sulk. “Do we have to? Can’t we just go out to a restaurant?”
“Why? Isn’t Sirianna making roast chickens with sage stuffing? I thought that was your favorite.”
“It’s not the food! I just…I hate it there. I always did, and I still do. Why do I have to go to school there? Can’t I learn witchcraft in a different coven?”
“Well, perhaps, but this is the main teaching coven for the Bay Area. You know that. If you transferred somewhere else, it would be to begin your internship.” I gave her another wry smile. “And like I said, I’m going to ask around, but off the top of my head, I don’t know of any acting covens.”
“Nobody understands me.” She kicked at another pebble. This time the cats ignored it. Minky stayed close to her mistress’s feet, ready to provide comfort when Gracie was ready to receive it.
I bit my tongue. Because she really was in no mood to hear, Yes, actually, everyone understands you way better than you wish they did.
Was it wrong of me to feel such a sense of guilty relief every time I talked to Gracie? My life was a baffling disaster, but at least I wasn’t fifteen.
The evening ran long. Dinner was served late—nobody really explained why, and Sirianna looked so flustered, I didn’t want to ask—and Leonora had a good deal to say to the assembled witches and witchlets in the grand dining room. Most of it was about the coven’s finances—or, rather, its investments; our day-to-day finances were nothing any of us needed to worry about.
Frankly, neither were the investments. It wasn’t like we got to vote on any of this stuff: Leonora made all the money-related decisions, and did a spectacular job at it, as far as I could tell. Our holdings grew every year; we could have established a small country. Apparently, tonight she just wanted to talk about it. At great length.
At any rate, by the time dinner and cleanup were over, I was too exhausted to want to take a ley line home. I couldn’t quite believe that I needed sleep again, after sleeping most of the day before, but again, being pregnant made everything about my body out of whack. I decided to crash in my old bedroom here. Maybe Gracie would be reassured when she saw me at breakfast.
I didn’t see her the next morning, though; by the time I woke up, classes were already in session. So I just went downstairs to get some breakfast. It was a rare sunny morning (rare for San Francisco, that is; no fog) so after I prepared my tea, toast, and scrambled egg, I carried it out to the back yard.
We rarely sat out here. The back of the house faced northeast, so by the time the fog burned off in the afternoon, it would be in shade. I brushed the dust and dead leaves off a wicker chair and settled in, setting my plate and cup on an equally dusty table before me. My unbound hair fluttered around my head, enjoying the sunlight. Elnor seemed to be enjoying it as well, pausing in the middle of the yard before going off to sniff around at the base of the fence.
I took a sip of my peppermint tea. Ah, so peaceful.
So of course the next sound I heard was the back door opening.
Niad’s familiar, Fletcher, prowled down the back stairs and over to my table. He gave me a dark look before continuing on to the edge of the yard, a good distance from Elnor. He started pawing through the underbrush, making a ruckus on some dry foliage.
“Is he looking for a place to pee?” I asked Niad, without turning to look at her.
She stepped lightly down the stairs and over to the table, pulling out a second chair and giving it a disdainful glance before sitting down. “I’m surprised to see you here this morning, Callie.”
I nodded and took a bite of my eggs. Any snarky reply would only give her ammunition.
After a pause, she added, “This is the part of the conversation where you ask me why I’m surprised.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, were we having a conversation? I thought I was enjoying a quiet breakfast alone in the morning sun.” Oh well. I managed to avoid snarkiness for ten whole seconds.
I could see the satisfaction shimmer across her face, though she didn’t overtly smile. “As you know, Leonora, our coven mother, prefers us to be polite to one another, dear sister.”
I gave her a weak smile. “Was I impolite? Should I have invited you to break your fast with me? When I came downstairs, it was so late I figured everyone had already eaten.”
“I meant about the conversation.” She gave a tiny sigh, just a little huff out of her delicate nostrils, and glanced across the lawn to her familiar, who was still doing whatever he was doing over there. “Fletcher,” she called, in a tone devoid of warmth. “Come back here, please.”
He ignored her. He was a punky cat at the best of times, and they clearly had no bond whatsoever. I wondered why she didn’t return him to the cattery and try again with a warmer, better-behaved kitten. Not that it was any of my business.
Elnor, however, took the opportunity to come back across the yard and jump into my lap. I petted her as she settled in, purring.
Niad returned her gaze to me.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” I said. “Why are you surprised to see me here?”
“Because Jeremiah Andromedus is back in town.” She leaned forward, watching me carefully. “I thought you and he might take some time together.”
“Niad, although we had a nice dinner out together the other night, I’m not signing a contract with him. Are you responsible for this rumor that all the students are passing around?”
Her eyes widened. “Me? Of course not. I don’t speak to the students about our personal affairs.”
A contract, even a romantic one between a witch and a warlock, was hardly personal—or at least, hardly private. It involved terms and conditions, money and housing arrangements, and a witch’s coven had to be part of the negotiations. I didn’t argue the point with her, though. She was just trying to distract me. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. But I do wonder why they’re so exercised about it all of a sudden.”
“Children.” She sniffed and tossed her hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail, pouring down her back in loose waves emanating from the braided band she’d held it with. “Who knows why they become concerned about things? Next week it will be something else entirely.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” I sipped my tea. It was starting to get cold. “Were you wondering something more about Jeremy, or was that all?”
“Fletcher!” she called again, more sharply this time. Ignoring my question. “Fletcher, get out of that catnip.”
Elnor, curled on my lap, purred a little louder, as if to say, Look what a good familiar I am. I scratched her ears. She didn’t need to convince me.
I took the last bite of my eggs and set my fork down. “Well,” I started.
“I suppose we’re all curious to learn what answers the warlock came up with, after all this time in the Old Country,” Niad suddenly blurted out.
I gave her a winning smile. “Oh, I know. I’ve been just as curious as everyone else. Alas, it seems to have been a huge waste of his time. He hardly learned anything.”
“How unfortunate,” she said flatly, staring back at me.
I shrugged. “You don’t have to pretend to believe me,” I told her. “You are welcome to talk to him yourself. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get more out of him than I did. If there’s anything there to tell, that is.”
“It wouldn’t bother you if I talked to him?” she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“Not in the least,” I said. “I don’t own him. And, at the risk of repeating myself, I have no plans to sign a contract with him.”
“But you have made a daughter with him.”
Not true, though I had to pretend it was. “How observant of you.”
She gave an uncomfortable laugh. “How modern of you.” Then she sniffed. “But you always were a bit of an iconoclast.”
I finished the last cold swallow of my tea and picked up my plate, setting Elnor on the ground before getting to my feet. “Well, this has been just as much of a delight as ever, Niad, but I have things I need to be getting on with.”
I left her with her obstreperous cat and the morning sun.
A week or so later, I stood in the nursery at my house. I’d been in and out of here all afternoon, experimenting with furniture and trying to decide whether I should paint the walls or leave them the quiet blue they were. It was a good color for the house, but was it a good color for a baby? Especially a baby girl? Not that such things should make a difference—I mean, I was an iconoclast, after all—but for crying out loud, the girl’s name was Rosemary.
But I didn’t really like pink.
Though Rose didn’t have to mean pink—roses came in all sorts of colors. Yellow might be nice. I narrowed my eyes and gazed at the wall, letting my magical sight overlay a buttery yellow.
No. Too garish.
I softened it, making it more lemony. But that just looked insipid. The blue was better than that.
And would the smell of fresh paint bother her? Newborns had such sensitive constitutions. The last thing I needed was to fill my house—the very room she slept in—with toxins or unpleasant odors.
Of course, that was even assuming she’d sleep in here, and not just with me. Did I even really need a nursery, or was that just another human concern I’d taken on? Traditionally, witch mothers slept with their babies, holding them safe in their magic.
Well, she’d need her own room eventually, and the color question would remain.
I felt a prickle at the back of my neck as my coven mother’s intention found me, forcefully.
Yes, Mother? I responded.
Calendula Isadora, come to the coven house. At once.
I dropped the magical color filter and let reality fall back into place. “Elnor!” I called. “Elnor?” The cat didn’t appear, so I left without her, arriving at the coven house a few moments later.
Leonora was at the front door as I stepped through the gate.
“Yes, Mother? What is it?”
“Is young Graciela at your house?”
I took a surprised breath. “No, why?”
Leonora frowned and shook her head. “I thought not. Come inside.”
In the front parlor, most of the active teaching staff was gathered—Niad, Flora, Sirianna, and Maela—along with several of the students. Niad glanced up at me sharply. “Well?”
“Well, what?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
“Graciela did not show up at history class this afternoon,” Leonora said. “Katerina here said that she has been upset recently, but would not tell her why.”
I looked at the glum student. “Kat? Do you know anything?”
“No!” she wailed. “I swear, she didn’t say a word to any of us! She’s just…gone!”
Leonora said, “Since you are the only teacher in whom she confides, we naturally thought she might have sought you out.”
“She did not—well, not since a week or so ago. We went for a walk and talked about potential career paths for her. She told me she might be interested in studying acting.” I took a chair. “Did you ask her parents? Maybe she went home.”
Niad rolled her eyes.
“Of course,” Leonora said. “It was the first place we looked.”
I ran my memory over our recent conversation even as I was casting my senses about, searching the house, the neighborhood, the city…my power and perception diminishing the farther out I sent it.
“She is not in the area at all,” Leonora said, watching my search but not stopping me. She knew I would insist on trying myself. “We have all searched. She is not within magical reach.”
Oh, Gracie, I thought. I knew she was struggling, but I’d had no idea she was on the verge of running away. Had I missed some important cue? “Maybe she went to Los Angeles.”
“Excuse me?” Niad asked.
“Where do you go to study acting? We don’t have any covens teaching dramatic arts around here. Maybe she ran off to Hollywood. Who do we know there?”
Leonora nodded. “I’ll send word to Prima at once,” she said. “I don’t know what they teach in her coven, but she will know whom I should ask, if it is not her.” She closed her eyes briefly. After she’d sent her message, she leaned back in her chair. “In the future, Calendula, please report any important conversations to the rest of us.”
“I didn’t know she would run away!” I said. “She was frustrated and felt stifled here. That wasn’t new. She did mention acting, but she always had some new idea she was passionate about. This didn’t seem any different.”
“What did you tell her?” Leonora asked.
“I didn’t discourage her, but I didn’t encourage her either. I told her I would ask around, but I confess I haven’t remembered to. I mostly just listened to her—that’s usually what she’s really looking for. I counseled her to stick with her studies, to trust the process, and be patient.” I looked pointedly at Niad. “As I always do.”
“Yet your example…” Leonora started and then paused as she paid attention to something we did not hear. “Prima has not seen her, but she will have her searched for,” she said. “She’s calling her sister covens now.”
Oh, Gracie, I thought again. I sent a message of my own. Since I had no idea where she was, I just sent it out generally. She would find it only if she went looking for it. Come home! We love you and miss you. You can talk to me any time, night or day. Just return to us!