Page 30 of Board Games and Broomsticks

Thankfully, after a few days of hard work, the café was almost ready to reopen. A feat only possible with the help of her friends and, surprisingly, a few of her regulars. Nyssa had expected them to judge her when she announced the café’s temporary closure, especially after they heard what had happened to Clara and the exploding teapot. Instead, they’d offered nothing but their support, and Nyssa had once again been struck by how generous the people of Nighthaven were. Even Torin had been happy to lend a hand with the repairs; it turned out he was quite nifty with a needle and thread, and he’d managed to mend all of the sofa cushions which had been torn by shards of glass slicing through them.

‘That looks even better than it did before, Torin!’ Liora exclaimed with delight as she admired the young warlock’s needlework a few days after they’d closed for repairs.

‘Oh, it’s nothing really …’ he mumbled shyly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

‘Well, you’ve saved me a lot of time hunting down new cushions or wrangling with sewing charms to try and fix it myself, so I definitely owe you one,’ Nyssa said kindly, and Torin blushed, smiling to himself as he turned his attention to the next cushion.

After another few productive hours of repairs (including securing a wobbly shelf which had come very close to collapsing on Liora’s unsuspecting head, had Nyssa not managed to catch it with a balancing incantation just in time), Nyssa returned home from the café with her heart full, ready to dive into the tomes Alaric had retrieved for her and find a way to trap Morven for good.

And then an owl came screeching through her kitchen window.

Nyssa was so startled she spilled her tea all over her grandmother’s old oak kitchen table and almost splashed the family grimoire that was lying open on top of it, too. Nyx began chattering at the owl with an exaggerated swish, swish, swish of her fluffed-up tail. It barely paid either of them any attention, however, as it flew around the table three times and dropped a sealed envelope directly into Nyssa’s lap before promptly leaving the way it had arrived.

With everything going on with Morven, a letter from Edith was the last thing Nyssa needed, and for a few minutes, she avoided opening it altogether. Eventually, however, curiosity won over, and Nyssa tore open the letter with trembling hands.

Edith’s scrawling handwriting had greeted her.

Dear Mage Hawthorne,

Apologies once again for the delay in correspondence regarding your second trial, which is now ready for you to attempt. Details of your second trial – the trial of the Body – are included on the back of this letter, and the relevant enchanted object is also enclosed in this envelope. You will have until the next full moon to complete this assessment. Remember that to fail one trial is to fail them all.

Nyssa winced as she read this last sentence, thinking ruefully that she hardly needed the reminder. But as she read on, she felt her heart sink even further.

I must also inform you that, after further discussion, the coven has reached a consensus on how we shall establish your rank should you return to The Coven of the Sacred Owl. We have decided that, if you successfully complete the three initial trials which you are currently undertaking, we will hold one final trial to determine if you are worthy of reclaiming the title of Head Mage. More details about this final trial will be provided on the completion of the third preliminary trial, the trial of the Spirit.

Blessed be,

Edith Kelster

Interim Head Mage of The Coven of the Sacred Owl

Nyssa’s chest still felt tight as she studied the letter line by line. Not with dread, but with anger.

The initial trials she could forgive, given her mistakes in the months before she’d left the coven. But to make her undergo another test to see if she was ‘worthy’ of her old position? After how hard Nyssa had worked for years, it wasn’t just frustrating. It was downright offensive.

Did they really think her that much of a liability?

Her inner voice answered almost instantly: Yes.

‘Ugh, shut up,’ she muttered under her breath.

She was still grumbling to herself when Liora came in through the kitchen door, her arms filled with what looked to be a number of old, stained, rolled-up bits of parchment.

‘You sound like a bridge troll,’ the bard teased, dropping the parchments on to the already cluttered kitchen table. Nyx immediately jumped down from the kitchen chair she’d been curled up on to weave in between Liora’s legs, her tail upright as she let out a loud, happy chirrup.

Nyssa glared at her over the letter. ‘You always give me the nicest compliments.’

Liora blew her a kiss. ‘Of course. But seriously, what’s wrong?’

Suddenly too overwhelmed to explain, Nyssa stood up and retrieved the small bundle of letters about her trials from the bookshelf where she’d been keeping them hidden, and handed them all over to Liora. The bard’s brow furrowed as she read, her lips parting, and then she let out a small, indignant huff.

‘Three pretrials and a final test!’ She tossed the letter back onto the table. Nyx immediately jumped up to loaf on top of it, her tail swishing in a mirror of Liora and Nyssa’s annoyance. Nyssa had no doubt her familiar was as tempted to tear the letter up as she was.

‘I’ve already passed the first trial, but unless I pass the second and the third, it won’t matter.’

‘You will pass them!’ Liora said, a little too forcefully. ‘Yes, you made a few mistakes, but you just trapped one of the world’s most powerful warlocks into a board game. If that isn’t enough to prove to them how badass you are, then you’re better off without them.’ Cheeks flushed, Liora took in a deep, calming breath. ‘Sorry, that was … I know they’re like your family.’

No, they’re not. Not any more. In fact, Nyssa was starting to think they never had been.