"Yeah, that's not happening," Amy says firmly, her eyes flashing a dangerous shade of purple.
I sit stunned for a moment. I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, Dolly pipes in. "You live here now." Her very cold, very pale hand comes to rest on top of mine.
"How would they even do that? Dump you in the lake and expect you to swim back?" Edgar asks, incensed.
"I mean, they can try. Nick says the properties are mine legally, but since this island doesn't appear on any map and the wards make it unfindable, I don't think laws matter that much," I say, trying to sound light about it to keep from tearing up. Are they all really advocating for keeping me here?
"No, they can't," Layla insists. "Not unless they want nothing to read on top of having shitty electronics and no movies or TV."
"And not unless they want to go without a single sip of caffeine for the rest of their very long lives," Ada agrees.
"That honestly sounds like literal hell," I admit.
"I would also threaten them with something," Edgar agrees. "If I did anything of any importance on this island."
This earns a good laugh.
"They're right, though," Laz says. "I cast all the spells, however poorly, for the island. They run the main businesses. Conall's always been an important member of the community, and people listen to him. We're not letting them kick you out, Ivy. No matter what."
I definitely have to swipe at my eyes before anyone sees me cry. I've had friends and relationships, and I have my sister, and we had our mom. But this little community I somehow got pulled into, kicking and screaming, is the most at home I've ever felt, and I plan to fight for it.
Ivy
The full moon hangs high in the sky. I stand at the island's highest hill and can see everything. The main town square with its shops and flame-powered lampposts. My cottage on the bluff. Laz's, Dolly's, and Layla's houses.
A campfire burns on a distant beach with what looks like the centaur tribe gathered around it. They seem to be dancing, though it's hard to tell from this height. The lighthouse beam swings across the water and the island, and as it cuts through the woods, the black outlines of figures catch my eye.
"Conall." I turn to where he's speaking with Laz. He breaks away and comes to me immediately.
"What is it, mate?" he asks, sliding his arms around me. The endearment sinks deep like a sip of hot tea. The warmth of his broad chest at my back seeps into my skin, easing my already frayed nerves. Laz stays a few paces back, book open in his hands, moonlight glinting off his spectacles as he finds the passage he needs. Amy, Dolly, Ada, Layla, and Nick have come for moral support.
"In the trees. I thought I saw figures." Laz looks up and casts a spell, a drop of blood, and a memorized incantation, sending a beam of light sweeping between the trunks just beyond the clearing.
"Nothing," Laz says, and the dismissal grates. Conall, however, keeps his eyes on the tree line, scanning each side as if the figures might have shifted.
He slips his right hand into mine and squeezes, then presses his lips to my forehead, warm against the cool night air.
"I'll keep a close watch," he promises, taking my concern seriously. It gives me room to breathe every time, being reminded that I'm never dismissed by him.
Laz comes to me holding a curved knife with ancient runes carved into the hilt and blade. "As we discussed, I'll need to slice your palm open, and you'll bleed onto the top of the hill while reading this." He points to the spell to reset the wards exactly as they were before my aunt's meddling. It's written in black ink. On the page directly beside it is the spell to complete what my aunt started and finish reforming the wards the way she believed they should be.
Nick Claw's words come back to me. About the monsters who couldn't come, the attack. About the children.
Laz's words pile on top. About the dangers of letting in unknown monsters. About the incident that made them tighten the wards. About safety.
Both points ring sharp and true.
I hold out one hand for Laz while the other grasps firmly to Conall's. Conall holds my gaze until the sharp sting of the blade makes me wince. Then he takes my chin between his clawed fingers and tilts my face up so he can brush his lips across mine. It's warm and comforting, sending heat through my center and straight between my legs. My blood begins to drip. As it does, pulses of light stream out in every direction within the island. They're white now, but Laz told me this would happen. Once they fully turn red, I'm to start the incantation. Laz and Conall are supposed to stay with me.
As hulking figures emerge from the trees, from the ground, and fly toward us from the sky, I can tell that it won't be possible.
"Fuck," Amy whispers.
"I thought you cast a protection charm?" Conall growls at Laz, whose brow is furrowed, frown pulled down as he flips through the pages of his spellbook.
"I did,” he says. “The blood triggering the start of a new spell must have canceled it out."
Popping and snapping ring through the air as Conall's hand twists in mine, becoming larger and furrier and knife-like claws elongating. His snout comes down to press against my forehead without bumping my outstretched hand, still bleeding onto the grass.
