Page 42 of Board Games and Broomsticks

As if he could hear what she was thinking, a predatory glint appeared in Morven’s eyes. ‘Perhaps if you’d joined me, your mother would have noticed you. Now, when she hears your name again, it will be because of your failures. Your coven will be wiped out, and so will the inhabitants of this pathetic town, all because you were not strong enough to keep me imprisoned.’

The space around Nyssa changed from the ritual chamber to Nighthaven’s town square. Buildings were on fire. Screams echoed throughout the night. And in the midst of the chaos were her friends.

Nyssa saw Liora first. The bard was slumped against the wall of the apothecary, her face dirtied with blood and ash. Her lyre lay broken in half at her side, and there was no sign of life in her usually vibrant body. Alaric lay a few feet away, his hand outstretched towards her, a pile of still-smoking rubble atop his back. And Elowen … Elowen was curled on her side, clutching at a bleeding wound in her abdomen.

And then Nyssa saw herself.

She wasn’t injured. She simply stood off to the side, watching events unfold. ‘Do you see?’ this other-Nyssa said. ‘Do you see what our failure will cause? Everyone here would be better off if we left and never looked back.’

She was right. Ever since Nyssa had returned to Nighthaven, things had been going wrong: the chaos in Teas and Tales, Morven, the owl. And if she couldn’t imprison Morven for good, then the scene before her would become reality.

‘That isn’t true.’

Through the smoke, a third version of Nyssa appeared. The version she’d been searching for in her reflection before the spell had begun.

Thirteen-year-old Nyssa glared at her older selves with a fire fiercer than the one which raged around them. ‘If we run away now, Morven will still hurt the people we love. They need us to protect them.’

‘We cannot even protect ourselves,’ the other-Nyssa said. She sounded so … resigned. So willing to accept that she couldn’t help that she didn’t even have the will in her to try any more. ‘We should leave. Before we make any more mistakes. Before we fail again.’

‘That isn’t who I am.’

The words came out quietly at first, the real Nyssa hardly aware that she’d said them. A kiss of a whisper against the crackling flames and screams of Nighthaven. But they were enough to cause her magic to rouse, for her to reach inside herself and feel that spark of power in her core. There was nothing she could do about the past. No spell she could weave to rewrite history. But if she ran away from her mistakes now, she’d also be running from her chance to fix them.

‘That isn’t who I am!’

The shout cut through the chaos. Her magic surged with it, blasting through the town in a flare of golden light and devouring everything in its path. The fires. The crumbling buildings. The bodies of her friends and the silhouette of Morven looming over them. And finally, the first version of herself. The one who had been so willing to accept defeat.

In the aftermath, Nyssa was left with only her childhood self. The younger version of her was smiling, a wide, gap-toothed grin that made something in Nyssa’s heart crack.

‘Thank you,’ she said, her words already starting to fade, ‘for not giving up on us.’

The reflection of her younger self vanished then, and the golden light around Nyssa began to fade. Through her tears, Nyssa saw the familiar shape of the mirror before her, and then the reflection of the attic at her back, and Nyx at her side, pawing desperately at her calf.

Nyssa knelt down beside her and cradled her tight to her chest. ‘It’s all right, baby girl, I’m back. I’m okay.’

The words had barely left her mouth when the third and final candlewick burst into flame. And yet when Nyssa collapsed into bed that night, the dream that put a smile on her lips wasn’t one where she was welcomed back into her coven. Instead, it was of her younger self, eyes wide and heart filled with wonder as she cast her first spell and discovered the joy of magic for the first time.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

‘You look different.’

Alaric was leaning against the doorframe to the back room, arms crossed, an apron tied loosely around his waist. He’d taken Liora’s place in opening up, and he’d been so quiet that Nyssa had almost forgotten he was there.

She looked up from the pot she was brewing. ‘What do you mean?’

Alaric studied her for a moment. ‘I can’t put my finger on it, but … you look different. Did something happen?’

He was the only one she hadn’t spoken to one-on-one about the three trials. Not because she didn’t trust him as much, but simply because they rarely spent any time alone together. She wasn’t even sure he knew about them. She hadn’t specifically asked Liora or Elowen to keep it a secret, but given the sensitivity of it, there was a strong chance they’d kept it to themselves.

Quickly, Nyssa explained about the trials. After everything he’d learned about her and her past with Morven, she wasn’t worried he’d judge her for her failure with her coven. He listened to her with rapt attention, humming with quiet approval as she explained how she’d completed the first two trials.

‘And last night,’ she went on, ‘I managed to complete the third pre-trial – The Mirror Spell. I don’t know if you know the spell, but it was the one I was most afraid of attempting after everything that’s happened, but … I did it. I completed it,’ she finished, an unmistakable note of pride in her voice.

Alaric paused a second, then took two steps to close the gap between them and pulled Nyssa into a tight embrace, saying gruffly, ‘I’m proud of you, kid.’

Nyssa blinked back a sudden rush of tears. ‘Thanks, Ric.’

‘I mean it. You did good, and not just with the trials – Li told me about how you dealt with that owl. It was smart, just like your plan for Morven; that pompous ass isn’t going to know what hit him.’