Page 34 of That Ain’t Witchcraft

I didn’t move, not to reach for my knives, not to throw them. I just sat there, perfectly still, and watched him walk away.

Time passed. I don’t know how much. I was frozen in place, numb with shock and horror. Not only were the crossroads following me, but now the Covenant was on my tail again—something I’d been expecting since leaving Lowryland, sure, but which I had managed to mostly put out of my mind. It had been a consequence for the future, something to be dealt with when it happened. Something that couldn’t be planned for or avoided.

For the first time in a while, I was grateful to the crossroads for syphoning the fire from my fingers. If it had still been with me, I was pretty sure the coffee shop would have been in flames.

“You okay?”

I glanced up. James was a few feet away, no longer wearing his apron, an anxious expression on his pointed face. He indicated my left hand with a quick gesture of his own.

“You’ve been sitting here flexing your hands since your friend left. Is he also renting from my cousin?”

“No.” The word came out with more force than I’d intended. I took a breath. That didn’t seem like enough: I took another, and said, “No. He’s not. You shouldn’t … if you see him, don’t come near me. Or any of us. He’s not a good guy.”

“Ah.” James’ expression clouded. “I’m a secret friend. There’s a game I’ve played before.”

I hated the bucolic little town around me when he said things like that. I’m not always the world’s best judge of character, but James was enough like my cousin Artie—enough like me—that I could see the cracks where he’d been struck. The world has a way of grinding down the people it deems different, or less worthy of being loved.

“No,” I said, for the second time. The word fell between us like a stone. “That isn’t what this is. Please. I’ll explain when we get to the house, all right? I’ll explain everything.”

“You sure do come with a lot of explaining,” he said, then turned to walk away.

At least his visit had broken the strange paralysis that had followed Leo’s departure. I stood, leaving my refilled coffee mug, surface slick with melted marshmallow, behind. James had disappeared into the back, leaving me once again surrounded by strangers. That was fine. It’s easier to be unwell in the company of strangers, because they don’t have any idea what “ordinary” looks like.

The air had warmed while I was inside; it felt like a crisp fall day, the kind that should be spent picking apples and making chicken stock, not sitting in a coffee shop and waiting for the Covenant of St. George to descend. Cylia’s car was still snuggled comfortably up to the curb, as visible among the sensible, sturdy cars of the locals as a parrot among a flock of magpies. She was leaning against the hood, munching on something from a white paper bag.

She beamed when she saw me approaching, tilting the bag down to offer me my choice of its contents. “There’s a candy shop that still does penny candy,” she said gleefully. “I mean, it’s a nickel apiece, but the principle is there, and she has maple sugar candy in the display. Who the hell sells maple sugar candy for a nickel? Someone who either has no business sense or way too many trees, that’s who. Want some?”

“We need to go home.”

Cylia lowered the bag, seeming to see the distress in my face for the first time. “Honey? What’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home. Please, can we go?”

Cylia nodded, once, and started for the door.

I watched the rearview mirror all the way back to the house. No one followed us. Not that it made any difference. The Covenant—Leo—wasn’t following me through anything as simple as visual surveillance.

Blood. Sympathy. There were any number of spells that would let them hone in on me and track me down, following me from one end of the continent to the other. Lowryland had allowed me a brief period of peace by surrounding me with so many people that the spells couldn’t latch on, but even without the evil magicians running the place behind the scenes, that could never have been forever. A girl can’t spend her life at a theme park, no matter how much she wants to.

James’ bike was propped against the porch when Cylia pulled into our driveway, and he was standing in front of the door, arms folded, glowering. He turned at the sound of tires on gravel, and didn’t unfold his arms. Great. Now I got to deal with an angry sorcerer as well as everything else. This day kept on getting better.

“If it gets much better, maybe Godzilla will show up,” I muttered.

“What?” asked Cylia.

“Nothing.” I slid out of the car, leaning my elbows against the roof as I called, “Problems?”

“No one’s answering the door,” said James.

Fear slithered along my spine. What if Leo wasn’t alone? What if—God forbid—he’d been sent to make sure I stayed in the coffee shop, kept on talking? Sam was incredible in a fight, but his formal training had been for the trapeze, not for staying alive in a pitched battle against seasoned monster hunters. Fern …

Sylphs aren’t natural fighters. She could put power behind her punches by increasing her density beyond reasonable limits, but she didn’t know how to fire a gun and she didn’t habitually carry any sort of weapons. Her usual response to fear was to get lighter, and hence faster, and try to outrun it. That wouldn’t work with the Covenant.

Being anywhere near me was a death sentence. Had been since I’d allowed myself to be sent to England. How had I been foolish enough to forget that?

“Don’t you have a key?” asked Cylia, digging hers out of her pocket.

James shook his head. “I wouldn’t have broken in last night if I did. Dad convinced Norbert I didn’t need one. Said it would only encourage me to blow off work and spend all my time reading. I usually sneak in through the back door, but it’s locked.”