We’ve stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and people slow down, looking at us as they pass. Even the automobiles brake, passengers craning their necks to get a look at Landon and his future bride. I can’t hear myself think, can’t calm my racing heart. Landon takes my hand and leads me back to the shore, where there aren’t as many observers.
“That doesn’t really answer my question.” I say it in a soft tone, trying to conceal the hurt in my voice, but it still comes through.
“I think we’re all a little afraid of the things we don’t understand.” Landon takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “But magic has become a delight for us, and I’m excited for you to help me understand it better. That’s what our union is doing, Tana. I believe there will be a day when no one remembers Pruitt’s work, when no one fears magic.”
My immediate reaction is to be defensive, to tell him that if anyone should be afraid, it was always going to be us. We have magic, but they have numbers far greater than ours. Even the most powerful magic isn’t enough when there are only so many witches to wield it, when there is a seemingly infinite number of mainlanders willing to fight it. And fearing something you don’t understand is not the same as fearing something because it has proven to be dangerous.
We have always known fear. Landon called the painting a moment in history, but we are announcing our engagement tonight because my coven is still fearful. We have made this arrangement because the mainland wants its eyes on us. Fear is everywhere.
“I look forward to it,” I say, the words burning on the way out. I want to argue and yell and head back to the Witchery alone, but that is not my role. So instead, I smile, loop my arm through his, and walk up the boardwalk and onto the dock to wait for the ferry. I will teach Landon that magic is nothing to fear, and our children will know magic as one thing and one thing only: a gift.
My role may require me to bite my tongue and temper my tone, but there is power in it as well. And I intend to use it.
Landon points out something in the water, but my eye catches on a sign hanging above us. It’s large and colorful, proclaiming: EXPERIENCE THE WITCHERY! CALM YOUR NERVES! INCREASE YOUR HAPPINESS! DELIGHT YOUR LOVER! ALL THIS AND MORE FROM A MAGIC SO SUBTLE, YOU’LL HARDLY FEEL IT.
I stare up at the sign, at what our magic has been reduced to. I don’t feel proud that the mainland is advertising our island, I feel ill, filled with a thick, gross sludge that spreads out from my gut. My face heats and my palms sweat, and I close my eyes to stop the tears from running down my face.
“Ferry to the Witchery now boarding!” a man calls out.
“Ready for tonight?” Landon asks, a spark in his eye that wasn’t there before.
“I can’t wait.” I smile at him, but it feels forced and tight. He doesn’t seem to notice, though, and we walk onto the ferry side by side, heading to an island with a magic so subtle, we’ll hardly feel it.
Tragic.
thirty-five
Landon and I stand up on a wooden platform at the harvest celebration, holding hands, surrounded by dozens of candles flickering in the breeze and wisteria hanging from the pergola above us. Most of my coven is here to celebrate the season coming to a close, and at the end of the evening, Landon announces that we are to be wed.
It is as impactful as my mother said it would be. People cry and hug, the band breaks into a celebratory arrangement, and sparkling wine is passed around the festival in crystal goblets that reflect the moonlight.
People congratulate us over and over, and Landon holds my hand, kisses my temple, and plays the part of an enamored fiancé flawlessly.
But the twisting in my stomach has stayed with me since the ferry, and not even Ivy’s soothing tea is enough to calm it. The magic so subtle, I hardly feel it.
* * *
The next morning, Ivy is leaning against the stone wall of the perfumery when I arrive for my shift. She holds out a cup of tea and sips her own as I unlock the front door and turn on the lights.
“Thank you,” I say, taking it from her.
She nods in response, and it nags at me. Something feels off between us, but I don’t know what it is. It’s fuzzy, like I’m looking at it through clouded glass.
We head into the back room, and I set my tea down and take off my coat.
“How was dinner with the Yateses? We never got to talk about it with all the harvest celebration prep.”
“It was good,” I say, picking up my tea again. “Really good. I don’t think it could have gone any better.”
“Then why do you sound like the world has stopped turning?”
I shake my head and look down. “I don’t know.”
She watches me, and the same look of sadness I saw on my dad’s face after dinner passes across hers as well. I hate that I’m letting down the people I love most.
“I’ll figure it out,” I say, my voice too high. “I think I’m just nervous about the wedding. And Landon and I had an awkward exchange when I went to the mainland that I’m trying to untangle.”
“What about?”
I walk into the storefront and make sure everything is stocked appropriately. Then I lean against the counter and look down, remembering my conversation with Landon.
“He said he’s afraid of magic.”
“What?” Ivy asks, clearly surprised.
“He took me to a gallery with artwork of witches being tortured in a field of moonflowers, and he said everyone is afraid of the things they don’t understand.” I see my mother walking down Main Street, so I head into the back room with Ivy and shut the door. “The worst part is that I didn’t stand up for myself. For our island. I wanted to, Ivy, I really did, but I was terrified of making a scene or saying the wrong thing. Everyone knows him there. Everyone watches.”
Ivy looks thoughtful as she takes a long sip of tea. “You’re standing up for our island by marrying him,” she says, setting her cup down and reaching for my hand. “Don’t forget that.”
I nod and swallow the lump forming in my throat. Then she suddenly lets go of my hand and walks to the other side of the worktable as if something has upset her. A heavy silence settles between us. “Hey, are we okay?” I ask.
She looks hesitant at first, then gives me a small smile. “Yeah, of course. We’re great. I was cleaning up with my parents after the celebration and got to bed late. I’m just tired.”
“Okay,” I say, even though there’s something in her tone that isn’t convincing.
Maybe I’m just overthinking everything.
“Landon kissed me,” I blurt out, realizing I haven’t told her yet. “I almost forgot.”
That gets her attention, and she leans over the counter toward me. “That good, huh?”
“No, no, it was… nice. Sweet.”
“Nice? Sweet? That’s it?”
I sigh. “Yeah, that’s it.” I hear how flat the words are, and I silently scold myself. Landon is fully committed to this union, and he’s trying. He deserves better than this. And yet I can’t stop the burn in my eyes, can’t stop the tears from rolling down my face as I look at Ivy.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m being selfish and immature, and I open my mouth to apologize, but Ivy slams her cup down on the table, stopping me.
“You know what, fuck this,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the store. I’ve never heard Ivy curse like that, and it unsettles me.
“Ivy? What’s going on?” I ask as I stumble after her all the way into the woods in the center of the island, far away from Main Street. “I’m sorry, I know I’m acting like a child—”
“Just stop, Tana,” she says, holding up her hand.
I’m silent. I feel unsteady, unsure of my footing. Ivy has been my foundation my whole life, and I wish I could grasp what’s happening between us, something in the distance that’s just out of reach.
I know it’s there, but I can’t see it.
“Please tell me what’s going on,” I plead. I can’t take it anymore.
She exhales and looks past me, her stance rigid and tense. “I made a mistake,” she says, more to herself than me.
I watch her as fear climbs out of my stomach and crawls throughout the rest of my body. A heavy dread settles on my shoulders and threatens to crush me into the damp earth. I look to Ivy for some kind of reassurance, but there’s nothing.