Page 12 of Board Games and Broomsticks

‘Ugh, coven politics: boring.’ Liora took a long gulp of her drink. ‘I’ll give you some real gossip! I heard my old mentor was found cosying up to a certain druid leader …’

Alaric and Amelia were instantly distracted, their heads bent low as Liora dove into her tale. And though Nyssa didn’t have proof beyond the small smile the bard sent her way, she couldn’t help but think Liora had changed the subject for her benefit.

Nyssa couldn’t figure out if Liora knew her story, or if she’d simply sensed how uncomfortable the conversation was making her. Either way, she hadn’t looked at her with judgement or disappointment. If anything, her warmth towards Nyssa seemed stronger. A reassuring smile here, a whispered check-in there, and as the night went on and the empty glasses stacked up, Nyssa’s shame faded once more, replaced by the warmth of the hearth and the long-absent comfort of being surrounded by something Nyssa hadn’t had in a long time.

Friends.

CHAPTER FIVE

The next morning, Nyssa awoke with a headache so bad she remembered why she didn’t usually drink.

After a second Spicy Gnome, Nyssa had started drinking The Pixie’s Grove’s ‘special brew’, specifically because Liora had said that concoction was ‘gentle’. Then again, Liora had also promised her that The Pixie’s Grove was going to be quiet, so Nyssa supposed it was her own fault for falling for another of the bard’s white lies.

Still, despite the headache, she felt … oddly calm. For the first time in a long time there was no nervous energy beneath her skin, no voices going over and over all the things she needed to get done or telling her what she’d done wrong.

The cottage was now mostly sorted, despite a few boxes in the attic that Nyssa couldn’t face in her current state, and so Nyssa decided to do the one thing she’d never dared do as head mage.

Relax.

She took a moment to take in the silence. The quiet peace she only ever really felt at Hawthorne Cottage. As lovely as Liora and her friends were, it was nice to have some time alone.

Mew!

Nyssa glanced down at Nyx, who had sat herself down right before her feet, her chin raised as if to say: Don’t forget about me!

‘I could never.’ Nyssa smiled, reaching down to rub between her ears. Nyx had settled in here almost instantly, and it was clear the extra space and the garden were doing wonders for her. The familiar would be by Nyssa’s side whenever she ventured into the lands surrounding her grandmother’s cottage, a silent but comforting companion during the long afternoons spent weeding and cutting grass, and as usual, Nyx let out a long stretch and began leading Nyssa down to the kitchen, where she stood looking up at the closed back door.

Nyssa opened it with a wry smile. Sunlight kissed her face, warm and gentle despite the mild September chill that hung in the air. She gazed over the garden and out towards the lake, noticing how the tips of the trees on the far shore were beginning to turn orange as autumn truly set in. For a moment, Nyssa closed her eyes and simply let herself enjoy the moment. The air in Nighthaven was so different to the air in London. Cleaner, yes, but also … lighter somehow, and filled with a kind of constant, sleepy magic that soothed Nyssa’s own.

Nyssa found her gaze drifting back to the crisp surface of the lake, sure that a quick dip in it would be the perfect balm for a hangover. She remembered fondly how much she’d loved paddling as a child – that is, until one afternoon when she was probably only six or seven. She’d been contentedly splashing in the shallows when she’d spotted something glinting beneath the surface a few feet away – curious, she’d moved further out, following the shining object until it revealed itself to be a great, scaled tail, coiling and twisting as it retreated out to the lake’s depths. Terrified, she’d fled from the water, crying to her grandma. Lisabeth had dried her tears, sat her on her lap, and told her it was time she learned of the ‘creature of the lake’. Nyssa thought back on her grandmother’s words now, her chest warmed at the memory of the tale.

Many centuries ago, an ancient warlock carved a hidden passage between our world and the next, Lisabeth had told her, smoothing younger Nyssa’s hair to soothe her. He opened the passageway so that he might explore distant realms to uncover the secrets of their magic, and placed the entryway at the deepest point in the lake, so that no one would accidentally stumble into another universe without realizing it. And to make certain that our world was safe, he summoned an ancient creature from the other realm to protect the passageway. The creature is still there, living peacefully in the waters, guarding the entryway.

Nyssa remembered feeling more scared than ever at this revelation, but her grandma had smiled gently as she went on. As Hawthornes, we’re perfectly safe from the monster – our family’s lineage traces back even further than the ancient warlock’s, and the creature in the lake knows to respect our magic. But others must take extra care, little one, Lisabeth had continued, her tone turning serious despite the glint of mischief in her eyes, because if they swim out too far, the creature will reach up and snatch them into the other world, never to return!

Nyssa snorted at the memory. She’d been even more afraid of the lake after Lisabeth had told her about the creature, so much so that her grandma had taken her aside and reassured her that she didn’t need to worry: she was a Hawthorne, and the creature would not harm her. To prove her point, Lisabeth had jumped into said lake that very afternoon, splashing about with such joy that Nyssa had been compelled to join her. But even after that, she’d never been quite as willing to venture into the chilly water alone.

You were always looking out for me, weren’t you?

Nyssa hadn’t seen any sign of the creature since, and she wondered now if she hadn’t imagined it all those years ago.

After taking a much-needed dose of the anti-headache potion she’d purchased from the apothecary a few days after her first trip into Nighthaven, Nyssa put her childish fears aside and headed out for a swim. Nyssa saw no sign of the lake monster as she swam, and the morning quickly passed by in a blessed blur of cool water and the warm kiss of sunlight against her skin. By the time Nyssa dragged herself back to shore, the pain in her head - and all thoughts of the ancient creature from her grandma’s story - had completely disappeared.

Liora was waiting for her when she reached the back porch. Sat on the swinging bench with Nyx happily curled up at her feet, she was so engrossed in Enchanted Thorns that she didn’t seem to hear Nyssa approach.

Perfect.

Coming up behind the bard, Nyssa made sure she was as close as she could get without giving herself away before tipping her head upside down and, as violently as she could, shaking out her still-wet hair.

‘Ahhh!’

As much as it pained Nyssa to risk her favourite book being collateral damage (and to cause Nyx to jump up in almost as much shock as Liora), it was entirely worth it to witness Liora jumping out of her skin and brandishing the book like it was an ancient and deadly sword.

A snort ripped through Nyssa as Liora realized that she wasn’t under threat from some sort of water pixie and, with a scowl, lowered the book. ‘You … you … demon! Why would you do such an awful thing?!’

‘That,’ Nyssa said through her laughter, ‘is what you get for telling me that The Pixie’s Grove’s special brew is “super gentle”! I woke up to a headache the size of a giant this morning!’

‘Really?’ Liora tilted her head, looking genuinely perplexed. ‘I drank way more than you, and I felt absolutely fine!’