Page 15 of The Spellreader and the Phoenix

Alex rolled their eyes.

“Is it alright if I take a photo? I want to send it to my sister.”

“It’s your window,” Alex said with a shrug, but Max thought they looked kind of pleased.

“You want to be in there as the artist?”

They shook their head hurriedly, and Max was glad he hadn’t taken the photo earlier. He snapped the photo and then sent it off to his sister.

Max

I got someone to decorate the window. No more bird collisions!

There was no immediate response, so he shoved the phone back in his pocket and said, “Come on in; I’ve got your bag.”

Alex came in and scooped up their backpack, and Max tugged out his wallet and pulled out sixty bucks.

They baulked. “That’s too much.”

“No, look,” Max told them sternly. “You worked for almost two hours.” An hour and a half. Whatever. “Two hours would be thirty bucks minimum wage. And your work is way better than minimum wage.”

Alex protested a couple more times, but Max stayed firm, and eventually, they pocketed the money.

“I’ll keep an eye on it,” Alex promised. “See if it needs touching up.”

Max knew when not to argue. “That would be great. Thanks.” He considered for a moment. “Actually, I was going to order these dots you stick on so that birds see they can’t get through the space, but your art is so good, I was wondering if you’d consider doing seasonal displays.”

Alex blinked at him. “Uh, yeah, I guess I could do that.”

“White’s the best color to ensure the birds see it,” Max explained. “So I’d have to restrict you to a boring palette, but other than that, anything that seems to fit the season, if you don’t mind erasing your art.”

Belatedly, Max wondered if that was a rude request.

But Alex just shrugged. “When you use an ephemeral medium, you’re going to get ephemeral results.”

Right, then.

“Thanks a lot,” Max told them. “You really saved my bacon today. Also the eyes of every passerby.”

Alex smirked, slinging their bag over their shoulder by one strap. “No problem. See you later.”

Max watched the kid go, noticing that they were standing a lot taller than they usually did. It was absolutely, positively frowned upon and totally illegal to cast harmful spells on normal people, but Max wondered if there were some people in Alex’s life who were deserving of a curse or two.

After he’d closed up, fed Nōwē and Red, and eaten another sandwich—Red chirped at him until he dug out some sad looking carrots and chopped them up and ate them, too—Max headed back down to his back room, where he found a “do not notice” spell that he could cast on Red.

“It’ll help reduce the chance that anyone sees you. I don’t mind you hanging out if that’s what you want to do, but normal people aren’t used to seeing cardinals on people’s shoulders.”

His parents had both been witches, and his mom had had a familiar, a mouse named Thistle. And normal people did not react well to seeing a mouse scurrying around anywhere. Thistle had spent a lot of time in one of Mom’s pockets, but she would explore sometimes, too. His mom had been an expert at casting the “do not notice” charm that allowed Thistle to roam freely. It was different from an “is not there” spell, because people still instinctively went around or stepped over Thistle so that she’d stay safe.

She’d been with Mom in the car crash, though it likely wouldn’t have mattered. Death of the witch usually resulted in the death of the familiar—and the reverse could be true, as well. At a minimum, it left the other weak and emotionally wrecked.

Max pushed the thought away. The accident had been quick, at least, and there was nothing they could do about it now. It had been senseless, but there was a lot about life that was.

Red rubbed against his neck like they were trying to soothe Max, and he smiled a little and reached up to gently stroke their feathers, earning himself a cheery chirp. Max wasn’t saying he thought Red was his familiar—there’d been a period where he thought Nōwē might be, and he’d been proved wrong there—but he wasn’t not saying it, either.

This was something that shouldn’t be rushed into. He’d see what happened.

A cardinal was a wild animal, but witches were usually more in tune with nature than normal humans were. Witches didn’t experience a Disney princess version of the animal kingdom… but it swung a little more to that end of the spectrum with their familiar. And this bird was definitely not behaving normally.