Page 3 of Board Games and Broomsticks

And then Edith turned her steely gaze on Nyssa and strode towards the cauldron. She peered inside, no doubt making the same connection between the water in its depths and the water Noah had almost drowned on.

‘What did you do?’

Nyssa gaped. ‘I didn’t do anything. I don’t know what—’

‘You used the wrong salt.’ Edith lifted her finger from the cauldron, which was now coated with small flecks of black, ash-like salt. ‘You cursed him.’

‘I … No, I couldn’t have.’ She’d measured each ingredient herself. Had been certain they were all correct.

Or she had been, before that damned bell had made her jump and her looming tardiness caused her to regather the ingredients in a hurry.

‘It’s all right.’ Noah had gotten back on his feet, and despite the way he held himself – as if he was unbothered by what had just transpired – Nyssa could see the slight tremble to his hands. ‘I’m fine. We can start over—’

‘No,’ Edith held up her own pocket watch, ‘the window for the ritual is closed. We can’t do the spell again now until next month.’

‘So what does that mean?’ asked Eko, a slightly older half-elf who’d joined the coven a few years back.

Nyssa spoke before Edith could, her voice as hollow as the pit in her chest. ‘It means the coven will be forced to go without protection until the next ritual.’

Because of her. Because she’d made another stupid, careless mistake. And this time, there was nothing she could do to fix it.

‘I’m sorry,’ Nyssa said, trying not to let the tears prickling her eyes fall. Crying would only make this so, so much worse. ‘Noah, I’ll take you to the infirmary, and I’ll create extra protection amulets for the rest of the coven immediately.’

‘And how can you guarantee they will work?’ Edith asked. She didn’t look as judgemental as Nyssa expected her to. No, the look on her face was one of resignation. ‘You’ve been off your game for a while now, Nyssa. You … Perhaps it’s best if you take a break for a bit. Go somewhere new, clear your head.’

‘I don’t have time to take a break.’ Nyssa’s voice came out sharper than she’d have liked, but anger was an easier emotion to focus on than the shame threatening to burn through her. ‘I’m your coven leader.’

Edith lifted her chin. ‘Perhaps you shouldn’t be.’

The words hit Nyssa like a particularly sharp slap to the face. For a second, the wind was knocked out of her, and it took her a moment before she found her voice. ‘… What?’

Edith at least had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable. ‘This isn’t the first mistake you’ve made, Nyssa, and it … hasn’t gone unnoticed. You leave the coven with no choice but to suspend you indefinitely. Your return shall be subject to evidence of improved magical stability.’

Nyssa glanced around at the rest of the coven, searching Kilan and Prim’s faces for any sign that one of her fellow mages – her friends – might come to her defence. Instead, she found resigned, stone-faced expressions and gazes filled with guilt.

But it was Noah’s silence that finally undid her. Noah, who had said in his coven interview that he’d looked up to her for as long as he could remember. Who had said Nyssa’s reputation as the youngest head mage in coven history had inspired him to apply for The Coven of the Sacred Owl in the first place. Noah, who could now barely make eye contact with her.

See? Nyssa’s inner voice said. Even he knows what a failure you are.

Nyssa cleared her throat, fighting to keep her voice steady. ‘Very well. I’ll … pack my things …’ She trailed off, before turning on her heel and leaving the chamber as quickly as she could without breaking into a run.

The walk to her office felt far too short, the chilly London wind buffeting her as she hurried across the courtyard. Before she knew it, Nyssa was back inside the familiar space, surrounded by the life she’d built here over almost a decade. The journal she’d started when she’d first arrived at the covenstead in London on a cold, November night, filled with spells and musings about the changes she could bring to the Sacred Owl. The cauldron she’d been gifted by her fellow coven members when they’d appointed her head mage. Shelves and shelves of spellbooks filled with annotations, some centuries older than her, all entrusted to her as she’d risen through the ranks. The little window seat where Nyx currently slept, unaware their entire lives were about to change.

Nyssa held back a sob and tried to tell herself that they were just things. That they would all be here when she came back.

But this time, when her inner voice spoke up, she couldn’t block it out. Not when, it said.

If.

CHAPTER TWO

Nyssa had started flying towards Nighthaven without really thinking about it.

She’d spent a decent part of the night simply staring out of her window across the hazy London skyline, her bags packed, broom ready to go. Even though the coven hadn’t specifically asked her to leave, staying in the covenstead after what had happened was a prospect Nyssa couldn’t face. And so, when her tears had finally dried, she had clambered on to her broom, Nyx securely tucked into the basket she’d attached on the back, and flown north. As twisting streets and row upon row of terraced houses had flashed by beneath her, Nyssa had kept her gaze straight ahead. She wouldn’t allow herself to look back, to try to find where her coven lay concealed within an old estate, among the endless streets of the city she had called home.

She flew until the sky began to turn from dusky blue to the gentle, glowing orange of sunrise. The chill, crisp September air biting into the bare skin of her cheeks and fingers was a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside her. While Nyx buried herself beneath her blankets in her small basket, Nyssa had left her hood down, her wavy brown hair whipping behind her as she flew against the breeze until it almost hurt to breathe.

She’d always loved to fly. It was the only time she felt truly free, unburdened from the responsibilities that seemed so pressing on the ground. The mistakes she’d made – the plants, the elf, the tornado and the failed protection spell, Noah – all felt far away up here, where the only person her magic could harm was herself.