by Multiple
“I can’t let you risk all this. You said yourself that something was trying to put us together.”
He held me super close, speaking softly in my ear. “I’m going to do a protective spell on us, something to prevent outside enchantments from affecting us. I’m not a very strong enchanter yet, so it will just be temporary.”
“But it will break our attraction if that’s what it is?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. How can I help?”
He peered into the cabinets. “Does your mom have any lily pollen?”
“I can look in her book.”
Caleb opened a glass door. “No, it’s all clearly marked here.”
“With random letters and numbers.”
“This says ‘lily pollen,’ plain as day.” He held up a green vial.
The sticker on the lip of the glass read “LP.” I shook my head. “I guess if you know the lingo. I wouldn’t have guessed ‘LP’ stood for lily pollen.”
He turned the vial around. “Huh. It does have a sticker on it too.” He angled the bottle back at me. “You don’t see the words ‘lily pollen’ in red?”
I took the green glass and turned it every direction. “Nope.”
“Wow. They really do keep nixes in the dark. I guess I haven’t ever shown my sister a potion. I didn’t realize.” He placed the pollen on the desk. “Let me just look around.” He pulled another vial and a canvas pouch from a shelf. “That should do it.”
“Not much in it.”
“No, this one is enchantment-lite.”
I laughed. “So the reveal spell is super-lite, then? We didn’t need ingredients.”
He nodded. “Basic things are just said aloud, although you do need your token.” He jangled his linked chain. “Things like your mom’s potion are very advanced.”
“Huh.” I pushed Mom’s chair out of the way so he could use the iron pot.
He bit his lip in concentration as he tapped a bit of the lily pollen out of the vial. He added a pinch of something from the canvas bag, then dribbled a few potent-smelling drops on top. The room filled with the aroma of curdled milk.
“Sorry. It’s a strong one.” He picked up the pot and rocked it back and forth.
“It helps the vapors spread, doesn’t it?”
“That’s right. You see why chemistry is important to our training.”
“I flunked out.” Might as well get that out of the way.
He shrugged. “Many do. Once you get involved in the matches, it’s easy to get distracted.”
I wanted to point out that my random boy-boinking had nothing to do with matches, but he began to chant in low baritone syllables that I couldn’t parse into actual words.
“I guess we don’t need wands,” I said.
He ignored me, stepping back from the desk. A blue spiral of smoke curled up from the pot. It paused, midair, then tendrils spread out. When they found Caleb, the mist began to encircle him. Another section found me, clouding my vision for a moment.
“Okay, as long as we are in the fog, then no enchantments can be controlling us,” he said.
I didn’t feel any different. “So what should we do?”
“Test it.” He stepped in close, and his arms went around my waist.
The first taste of his lips on mine was as strong as any of those that had come before. I buzzed with the need of him, to connect again, to touch him.
“I don’t think there ever was a spell to bind us,” he whispered. “I think this is the real deal.”
I pulled back, just a few inches, to look into those eyes like mine. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that even though you are a nix, we’re being bound.”
“But I don’t even know you.”
“That’s what the rituals are for. To be sure. To know each other.”
“What is the first ritual?”
“We’ve already done it.”
“We have?”
“I’ll show you again.”
He leaned in, his lips warm against mine. The connection buzzed between us, electric, hot, and strong. Chemistry, I thought. And magic. I wanted more of him, to know everything about him — his family, his life. But for now, I just wanted this.
His hands gripped my neck, pulling me harder against him. I remembered how it felt for him to connect with my spine, and I wanted that again. I snaked my arms around his back and pulled up his shirt, holding my breath as I touched his skin.
The charge bolted through me. Caleb must have felt it too, as now his hands were everywhere, in my hair, on my neck, and sliding down my ribs. He gripped my waist, then couldn’t wait any longer and lifted my sweater, fingers grazing my skin.
The energy flowed between us like molecules colliding. His need for me was clear, pressed between us, hard and throbbing. I’d been these places before, casually, with guys I’d dated and discarded, but none that felt like this. I could only imagine what being with him could be like, if the connection was so strong with just skin, how crazy it might be when he filled me with it.
Caleb broke away, his breath ragged, and trailed his lips down my jaw. His hands moved up inside my sweater, touching the band of my bra.
My breath held, waiting, hoping, needing him to press forward. His fingertips edged the lace, teasing, almost hesitant. I squeezed him, letting him know it was okay, that I wanted to move on, that I needed to keep going.
“Jet,” he whispered against my skin, his mouth on my throat.
“Don’t stop,” I said.
“But I haven’t ever…”
I pulled back. “You haven’t what?”
“Been with…”
“A nix?”
He exhaled in a rush. “With anyone. We’re allowed. I just…never did.”
I marveled at him. “You’re in college, right?”
“Fourth year. Graduating next semester.”
“And none of those hot college girls?”
He shook his head.
I sucked in a breath. “And now?”
He kissed me again, his hands shaky now. I pressed back into him, but my brain was racing. He was just like me! Only whereas I had gone through boys, trying to find what I was looking for, he had waited for it.
He reached behind me to unfasten my bra, his fingers tracing the light indentation in my skin from the band. His thumbs grazed just below my breasts, and I sucked in air. He teased the bottom swells, feeling the width, encircling the base. Finally, he cupped them completely and longing shot through me so fiercely I almost lost my balance.
“Caleb, we should wait,” I told him.
He released me and crushed my body tight against his, breathing shallowly and hot. “You don’t feel this?”
God, I did. But his magic. Hallow said he could lose it. I couldn’t do that to him.
“Don’t you need to…release the other matches or something?”
He stepped back, running his hand through his hair. “I do, actually, but this…this isn’t part of the rituals. We can do this.” He pulled me back in.
I let him kiss me again, and I sank into it. He went back to my shirt right away, fingers running across my nipples. Whoa, Nelly. It took everything I possessed to pull away a second time. “I want this,” I whispered. “I really want this. But let’s…let’s figure things out.”
Caleb pulled away. “I understand.” He rubbed his eyes a moment, and I could see he was trying to regain control. “We should talk to your dad.”
“About this?”
“No. No! You might be a nix, but he isn’t, and he could read the spell.”
I looked up. Of course. “Will that work? Even if he doesn’t know how?”
“You don’t know that he isn’t enchanting already.”
Anger flared up again, but I stuffed it down. “I need to talk to him.”
“I’ll come with you. I will help.”
“No.” I didn’t want him around. He was too distracting, and he made me too upset. “I want to do this alon
e.”
Caleb grasped my arm. “I’m just a portal stop away.”
I shrugged. “I don’t even know how to use this thing.”
“It’s one of the spells a nix can do. It allows you to escape when necessary.”
“I don’t know it.”
“I bet you do. Think of the other songs your mother sang to you. It’s the one that starts ‘Into the colors, a bountiful whirl.’”
My head snapped up. “I know that!”
Caleb nodded. “I told you. She found a way to train you without you knowing.”
“Why couldn’t she just tell me?”
Caleb shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe your dad will have an answer.”
I hoped so. “I’ll talk to you later, then?”
He stepped up to the bowl. “Yes. I will bring your car this afternoon, the old-fashioned way.”
“Okay.”
He brushed my hair away from my face. “I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful I think you are. And how brave. We’ll figure out a way.”
“Caleb, I don’t understand how any of this works.”
“We’ll figure it out together.” He leaned in for one last, light kiss.
I wanted to ask him how to tell the portal where you wanted to go, but he began the colors song and then he was gone.
The clock in the living room struck ten, its chime muted by the closed doors. Two hours until Dad came home. I had to figure out exactly how to confront him.
11: Fathers and Daughters
I made Dad’s favorite lunch, grilled ham-and-cheese on rye. The heat rising up from the pan made my face flush. Every time I thought of Caleb, my body reacted. I already regretted slowing him down.
The back door opened, and Dad poked his head in, face barely visible beneath a ridiculous beaver hat. “I smell hot cheese and ham!”
He bent to tug off his boots, scattering bits of muddy ice across the floor in a way that used to drive Mom insane. “Build me a mudroom or lose me forever,” she’d say.
Now that I really thought of it, I’d never seen her actually clean the snow or mud or ice. It just went away. Housework spells. Now that was useful.
I flipped the sandwich one more time and plopped it on a plate. Dad opened the refrigerator. “Would you care for a fizzy?”
“Sure.”
He set a pair of Fanta orange cans on the table, and I couldn’t help but smile. I only drank those here, and they made me feel like home again, and none of this enchanter business had ever happened and Mom might even come through the door at any minute.
Maybe I should ask some easy questions before the tough ones. I set his plate on the table and slid into a chair as he peeled off his coat. To make sure my lips didn’t seal shut or the headband cause me any trouble, I’d left it locked in a drawer in the lair.
“Dad, I think I know how the spell malfunctioned.”
He hung the jacket on the back of his chair and unsnapped the chin strap to his hat. “Really?”
I nodded. “The sea foam built up chloromethane from being bottled so tight. Maybe the magical element of the myth made it stronger. I don’t know. But apparently Mom was crying when she made it that last time.”
His hand froze on the strap. “Crying?”
“I was hoping you would know why. I think the tears set off the reaction with the vapors.”
Dad looked out the window as he had the last time, as though the outside world somehow gave him more space to manage the problems inside his house. “It doesn’t seem like that would explode. Even if the biomass created the vapors, just crying shouldn’t cause an explosion.”
I took a deep breath. Here we go. “How do you know it was an explosion? What did she look like?”
His throat expanded and contracted as he swallowed, trying to speak. “She was burned across her face and hands, through her clothes.”
“But was it chemical or fire?”
“Both.” He turned away and pulled off his hat, leaving it on a rack by the door. “The room was full of smoke.”
“Was there a flame anywhere?”
“No.”
“Did you think there was a magical element to it, or just ordinary chemicals?”
He turned around. “I wouldn’t know.”
Oh my God. There it was, big and bright and unmistakable. The calligraphy “E” in bright blue, winking in the kitchen light. I tried to speak, but nothing came out.
“Sweetpea? Are you okay?” He moved closer to the table.
I jumped up from the chair. “You lied to me. All my life. You lied!”
“I told you, your mother didn’t want you to know.”
“But even yesterday, you could have told me then!”
“Jet, I did tell you. I told you everything.”
I reached up for his forehead. “Not this!”
He grabbed my wrist. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re an enchanter! You always have been! That’s why I’m a nix!”
He let go so suddenly my hand whacked against my chest. “I am not an enchanter. Only your mother was. And your grandma Gem.”
“Dad, I learned the reveal spell. I can see the markings.”
“I don’t know about any markings.”
He had never done the reveal spell. He didn’t know. Relief flooded through me. He hadn’t lied. He just hadn’t known, same as me.
“Do you remember the lullaby Mom used to sing? It goes, ‘Sleep within the gentle night.’”
He sank into a chair, nodding. “She taught it to me. Sleep within the gentle night as watchful starlight shines.”
I continued the song, gesturing for him to keep going with me. “Wake up in the morning, as the day reveals the signs.”
He watched me as I said the last line: “A few for fear, hold gold ones dear, and let the nixes be.”
He shook his head. “That’s not how it ends.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, I distinctly remember that it was “Live not in fear, hold loved ones dear, and let what will be, will be.”
“That’s not the spell.”
“That’s the version your mother sang to you.”
“No, I remember it. It ended with ‘let the nixes be.’”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
Mom had taught him a different song? Now that he had said it, I remembered his version too. He wasn’t misremembering, or lying. Why had she done that?
“Dad, I’m a nix. That only happens when two enchanters have a child outside their bloodlines. I’m an outcast in the world, and I don’t have powers.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I found Genevieve’s son. He’s an enchanter. He told me.”
“But Jet, I am not an enchanter. Mom would have told me.”
I sat down opposite him at the table. “Mom must have had a reason to protect you. I can see your marking as clear as day. Caleb — that’s Genevieve’s son — said I was marked with the red sign of the nix.”
“I don’t see it.”
“Sing Mom’s version of the song.”
“Are you sure we should do this?”
I nodded.
“How did the last line go again?”
“A few for fear, hold gold ones dear, and let the nixes be.”
He started the lullaby again, his voice uncertain and cracking. His hands gripped the edge of his plate. When he finished the line, his eyes went wide. “I see it.” He leaned over to brush his fingers on my temple. “A red ‘X’ inside a triangle.”
I jumped up. “Maybe you can read the spell! If you’re an enchanter, you can make it work!”
I ran around the table and pulled him from the chair. “Caleb said you might be the key.”
I dragged him to the lair, cool and quiet compared to the warmth of the kitchen.
“I have all the ingredients laid out. We should do this together, for Mom.”
Dad took my hand. “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “Let’s
mix it.”
I pulled the cast-iron pot to the edge of the desk, then remembered Caleb had done a potion in it before. I reached inside and felt around. It was empty and dry. Good.
I dropped in the red hair of the virgin. From a small wooden box, I spooned out two toad eggs, the string sticky between them.
“I’ll get the fairy mushrooms,” Dad said, opening the paper bag marked BFM-FM.
He pinched his lips together. “I want you to stand back when we add the sea foam. I can’t have something happening to you.”
“We’re going to do this carefully and right,” I said, sliding a pair of goggles on his face. “And no crying in potions.”
His smile was grim.
I scraped the glasswort with the pestle into the pot. Dad reached up for the pea spider’s web, carefully pulling it away from the wall as the spider herself scurried up a beam.
I noticed Hallow’s bed was empty. “Have you seen the ferret?”
Dad shook his head. “Better that he’s not in here, anyway.”
“He talks.”
Dad held the vial of newborn tears. “I should have known that.”
I realized something. “You don’t have a token.”
“A what?”
“Like Mom’s headband. A token. It helps you sense magic.”
He set the vial of tears down. “Actually, maybe I do.” He moved down the desk and opened a drawer. “This pocket watch came from my mother’s family. She died giving birth to me.” He flipped it open. “It has never worked, but I always kept it. It’s the only thing I have of hers, and when your mom saw it, she said it would be safer in here.”
I held the watch in my hand, and the silver case brightened at my touch. “This is definitely it, Dad.” I fastened the chain to one of his belt loops. “Hold it firmly.”
I could tell from his face that something happened when he closed his hands around it. “What is it doing?” he asked.
“I don’t know how it works, but mine seems to help me.” I remembered the lip seal. “And makes me follow the rules.”
“You’re not wearing it now.”
“Good point.” I took the headband from its drawer and nested it back in my hair.
He opened his hand. “The watch has started ticking again. I never thought it worked.”
“Mom had some reason to protect us,” I said. “We have to believe she did what she thought was right.”