Page 50 of Board Games and Broomsticks

‘El, are you sure …?’

‘I’ll be fine.’ Elowen’s smile was too tight to be genuine, but she quickened her pace before Nyssa could question her further.

The idea of going through yet another test of her worth had filled Nyssa with white-hot frustration, but it was nothing compared to the rage she felt at the idea of Elowen being tested. These people had put her through enough.

She wanted to say as much, but she could tell by the determined set of Elowen’s shoulders that it wouldn’t do any good. Despite how she felt about it, she needed to let Elowen make this choice for herself. All she could do was stand by her side when she did, as the elf had done so many times for her.

Nyx let out a quiet chirp inside Nyssa’s satchel, a reassuring sound that made Nyssa’s steps a little surer as Elder Rhydian led them through the woods. The gnarled, ancient trees seemed to watch them, silent sentinels on an endless guard. Nyssa was no druid or elf, but as a witch, the magic inside of her still recognized the power of nature. It stirred beneath Nyssa’s skin, awakening in a way that felt different than usual, almost … reverent. Nyssa let the sensation flow through her, making a silent promise to ground herself in the woodlands surrounding Hawthorne Cottage as soon as they returned so that she might hold on to this newly awakened part of her magic.

‘Here.’

Elder Rhydian came to a stop before a large ash tree, its roots raised so high that Nyssa had to carefully step over them. Moss coated the ground, making it slick beneath her boots, and the leaves of the tree were the colour of the perfect sunset. There was a small groove in the tree trunk, large enough for one to fit a single hand in. Rhydian gestured to said hole, his voice echoing among the trees. ‘The orb is hidden between realms. It shall only reveal itself to an elf if it deems them worthy; Elowen, come forward.’

If Elowen felt hesitant, she didn’t show it. She strode gracefully towards the tree, her chin set, and asked, ‘What must I do?’

‘Reach your hand, palm up, into the hole,’ Rhydian explained. ‘Close your eyes. Allow the orb to reach out to you. It shall do the rest.’

Nyssa reached to stroke Nyx’s head as the familiar began to whine. Elowen turned to look at them over her shoulder, a small, private smile on her lips. I’ve got this, her eyes said, before she turned back to face the tree and slid her palm into the gaping hole.

It took hardly a second for the darkness inside the groove to light up. A soft, golden glow began to emanate from the tree, and Nyssa could feel the power of it even from a few feet away. It felt different to her witch power. More like the soft, tingling warmth of Elowen’s healing magic. It bathed the elf in its light, turning her auburn hair fire-red and her skin translucent.

She was the most beautiful thing Nyssa had ever seen.

There was no way for Nyssa to know what was happening in Elowen’s head, but she saw the moment the elf’s shoulders tensed, her free hand clenching into a fist at her side. Nyx moved to hop from Nyssa’s satchel, and despite how badly Nyssa wanted to go to help Elowen, she held her familiar back.

‘She has to do this by herself,’ she whispered. Elder Rhydian didn’t acknowledge Nyssa’s words, but she thought she saw appreciation flash in his dark, calming gaze. He was watching Elowen with an unreadable expression, one that didn’t give away whether he thought she’d pass the trial or not. And yet when Elowen let out a gasp just a few minutes later, her eyes flying open as she withdrew a swirling ball of light from the tree, he gave a knowing, almost proud smile.

‘The orb has decided. Congratulations, Elowen.’

Nyssa wanted to run and gather Elowen in her arms when her eyes filled with tears. ‘I didn’t think … I mean, I strayed from the path …’

Elder Rhydian placed a hand on Elowen’s shoulder. ‘We all walk our own paths, my friend; just because yours differs from the clan’s does not make you any less worthy of your ancestry.’

Nyssa’s throat burned, her eyes prickling. And when Elowen turned to her, smile bright and face lit by the light of the orb, a single tear slid down her cheek.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

After a week of no incidents, Nyssa was feeling almost confident in their upcoming ritual.

Not one hundred per cent confident – there was still that niggling voice in her head that liked to remind her she could fail her trial with the coven and be so distraught that the ritual ended up a total catastrophe – but far more so than she had been when Alaric had first brought her the druidic texts. While some of it was to do with how successful her last protection spell had been, and Elowen’s triumph with the orb, Nyssa knew these weren’t the main reason.

No, the main reason were the three people currently sitting around the table by the fireplace. Elowen. Liora. Alaric. Every evening since Nyssa and Elowen had returned from Tŷ Canol (a journey which had felt significantly more high stakes with the orb buried at the bottom of Elowen’s satchel), the group had met at Teas and Tales, poring over the ritual and planning their individual roles until late into the night. It was hard work, but Nyssa didn’t mind – especially since giving her undivided attention to the ritual was proving an effective distraction from her final test with her coven, which was now only a few days away.

As their only druid, Alaric had quickly taken on the role of ‘circle leader’, declaring himself the oldest (much to Liora’s amusement) and thus the most experienced (much to Liora’s annoyance). His main role would be to lead the druidic circle, calling on the spirits to aid them while Nyssa focused on the spell itself. Elowen would be in charge of activating the orb at the right moment, and Liora had written a melody to specifically enhance Nyssa and Alaric’s powers while simultaneously shielding them against Morven’s fog.

So far, their practice runs had been … interesting. They couldn’t actually cast the circle until the full moon, and yet Alaric had been extremely insistent – almost too insistent – that they act as if it was the ‘real thing’ after Liora had begun to play a bawdy sailor’s song halfway through their first practice.

Thankfully (for the sake of both Nighthaven’s safety and Nyssa’s patience), the bard had been perfectly behaved ever since, playing her melody in a flawless run each time Alaric ordered she perform. So flawlessly, in fact, that their last practice had been their best yet. With their roles perfected, and just over a week until the full moon, there was only one thing left to do.

‘The woods are our best bet to find a site for the ritual.’ Nyssa had stuck to her silent vow of grounding herself in them after she and Elowen had returned to Nighthaven, and the rush of power she had felt surrounded by Nighthaven’s ancient woodland had given her the idea. ‘There are a few spots my grandma used to use to perform her more complicated rituals, places where ley lines cross, or where the earth is untainted. I just need to find the one with the strongest magical energy,’ Nyssa explained, wrapping her scarf tightly around her neck as she prepared to leave the comforting warmth of the café for the bite of cold evening wind.

Elowen got to her feet and reached for her own coat. ‘I’ll come with you.’

Nyssa replied with what she hoped was a casual ‘sure’, but from the look Liora and Alaric shared, it was anything but. The bard had relentlessly questioned Nyssa about their time alone, and naturally, Liora had been deeply disappointed to find that they hadn’t recreated any of the scenes from Enchanted Thorns. Nyssa had decided not to mention the kiss that they’d shared in the grove, though – that somehow felt too personal, like something Nyssa wanted to keep just for herself.

‘I think you two have this covered,’ the druid said, unable to hide his smirk. ‘Liora and I will stay here and work out any final kinks.’

Nyx, too, settled down on to a cushion with a slow blink that seemed to convey that she was on Alaric and Liora’s side. ‘Great.’ Nyssa ducked her chin into her scarf, her cheeks flaming as she tried to look anywhere but at Elowen. ‘We’ll … be back soon.’