An electronic ping echoed in the room, and I dug the phone out of my back pocket. Flannery's name spread across the screen, and below it was a missed message from Willow. Wiping an escaped tear off my cheek, I flicked open the screen and read the messages.

Flannery: You're totally missing out on good junk food. Wish you were here.

I typed out a fast response wishing she could understand just how sincere my response was.

Me: Not as much as I do.

Willow: HEy1! HOW dId THE tESt Go/? Did my PotiOn dO thE TRIck

The mess of a text message made me laugh. Willow only used a cell phone to communicate with me, and she'd only recently started texting.

Me: If by trick, you mean caused me to have to make up the test, then yes.

Three dots appeared on the screen, and I waited for her response. The dots faded, popped up, faded, and then several minutes passed before two messages came through. The first was a partial message.

Willow: OH No, IM goiNg to

The second message was a voice clip, but after the first few seconds, it became obvious Willow didn't know she was creating the message.

"Mama, that spell you gave me? The one for calming anxiety and helping memory-" a muffled response- "Okay that's what I used, but I boiled it. No, that's what you said. You did not say burn it. Ah, hell Mama, Rosey has gone and slathered that mess all over herself. Stop your hollering, I'm com-"

I had to replay the message three times to hear it in its entirety. Each time I laughed a little harder, imagining Willow's pinched expression when her mother told her she was supposed to burn the poison ivy leaves. Small and earnest, my friend did not take criticism well, and I made a point to go easy on her tomorrow. It was an accident, after all.

I rolled up my sleeve and stared at the smooth, unblemished skin. Mama's healing Gift had fixed me right up. At least on the surface. The brief respite from my wallowing ended. There was no fixing the thing broken inside of me. If there was, my family would've found a way a long time ago. They'd tried everything from spells, potions, and rituals beneath every kind of moon. Each one ended the same- them frustrated and me powerless.

In the beginning, I'd been just as fired up about finding answers. Everyone had a story about the magic they'd seen me use as a child. Clemmy was particularly fond of a tale where I'd supposedly transfigured a skunk into a cat and set it loose in HindSight, the Goodwin's shop in town.

It wouldn't have been an issue, except that two year old me didn't have enough control to keep it from turning back into a skunk before it could be removed. Reina Goodwin swore she smelled like skunk for three days even after Mama gave her a Scent Charm. Clemmy said the woman was confused- she always smelled like that.

Every Thanksgiving, Daddy told a story about the disappearing brussel sprouts. Every time he moved the serving spoon near my plate, the offending food vanished. I was almost three. But after that, the incidents stopped, and by the time I was thirteen, I knew the only magic at play was wishful thinking. I was never going to be a witch.

The bedroom door blasted open, and I jolted upright, preparing to launch a slew of unladylike curses at my sisters. Only, it wasn't my sisters, and every single impolite syllable became ash in my mouth.

"Hello, Clemmy."

Clemmy, more grand witch than grandmother, didn't look a day over fifty, but she claimed she was over two hundred years old. Witches were long lived but not usually so well preserved. Papaw Leopold left Black Brier when he was a young man, headed to the coast with big dreams, and returned with a bride. Some people whispered she wasn't entirely human. The Voice Gift ran strong in our family- even I could sing well- leading most to believe there was Siren blood in our veins. Clemmy never said one way or the other.

"Child, why are you up here sulking?" One blue eye and one green eye peered at me with great disdain.

The smart response to this question was "yes ma'am." Yes ma'am was always the correct response when speaking to Clemmy. I, however, was lacking in intelligence. Being pissed can do that to a girl.

"I am not sulking. I'm filled with righteous anger."

Slim fingers flicked a stray strand that dared escape from her severe bob. My own hair was just a shade lighter than her coal black hair, and I'd inherited her olive skin. My sisters might've given up an ounce of their power to be able to tan like I did in the summer. Looking like a Clemmy clone was a poor consolation prize for sure.

"Have you seen your father, lately?"

"Yes, I sat with him on the porch."

Clemmy sniffed. "Then you know what happens when people sass me."

"Please," I huffed, flopping back on my pillow, "make my day."

"Acantha Rose!" Mama's outraged voice bounced around my room. She was standing behind her mother, hands on her hips, eyes wide with what could only be called terror. The woman might forbid her mother from turning us into animals, but she didn't trust her to keep her promises. We had an unspoken agreement to not test the limits of that arrangement, but something strange had taken over me. Frankly, I didn't give a damn.

"Alizon, when did you become so lax in your parenting? I would've never allowed such impertinence."

"Neither do I. Apologize to your- Clemmy."

"When you explain what I've done wrong, I'll be happy to."

"Mother, you'll have to forgive the girl." Hot eyes scoured me from tip to top while she wrung her hands. "She had a terrible rash today, and then Harmony went and made an unkind remark."

Clemmy held up a hand, the motion making the dozens of glittering bangles on her arm clink together. "Excuses. I'll just wait to give her these potions."

A glass vial popped into existence and hovered in the air. It contained a mercurial substance, and the slightest hint of rose filled the air. Mama's face brightened at its appearance. "Is this the one you've been working on?"

"It is indeed. Spring water infused with saffron and alder-"

"Saffron," Mama gasped. I sat up at the scandalized sound. "Mother, saffron is used as an aphrodisiac in most potions." 

Gross.

Clemmy rocked the bottle from side to side, her eyes following the viscous liquid. It clung to the glass, dripping slowly down the side like wine legs. "Your thinking is too narrow. Saffron is to lower Acantha's inhibitions- the girl has a block, I'm certain of it. Alder is for balance."

"There's rose in there too," Mama said.

"Yes, and its thorns. A potion is always stronger when it contains a bit of the person's nature, and you named the child well." Mama preened, but it was short lived. "Even if you haven't raised her that way."

"Mother, surely you're not going to deny her the opportunity to try this potion. That's a far greater punishment than a little attitude deserves," Mama said, ignoring the insult.

"Of course not, but she'll have to wait a little while longer." As if that was a terrible burden. I just wished they'd all get out of my room and leave me in peace.

"Why aren't you downstairs fussing at Harmony? She's all moon-eyed over Ash Goodwin." I said, opting for a diversion when neither of them appeared to be exiting anytime soon.

Clemmy spun around to face my mother. "Is this true? The Goodwin boy is back?"

"We don't know for sure. Rosey saw someone on a motorcycle turn towards their house. It's all just presumption at this point."

But I wasn't going to let it go, not now that my grandmother's attention had shifted to another Wych child. "I mean, who else could it be?"

"The Council should've been alerted before he returned. I'll have to talk to Paulie in the morning. We can't be lax just because the boy is from our town."

"Of course not."

"But still, I think I better speak to Harmony. Girl is a fine witch, but she gets a little boy crazy. I can't have my apprentice getting herself into trouble."

Finally. They left, leaving my bedroom door wide open. For one- okay, maybe two- seconds, I stared at the wooden door, willing it to swing shut so I didn't have to leave my little nest. It wavered in the autumn breeze dancing in from the open window but remained steadfast in its open position.

With a sigh, I shuffled off the bed, insisting it was not disappointment coloring my mood black. It wasn't as if I'd expected to manifest telekinesis, and there was no shame in closing a door the old fashioned way. Raised voices drifted up to greet me. At least, I felt no shame. My family was a different matter altogether.

"Psst, Rosey."

I stuck my head in the hall to find Caly leaning out of her room. Her blonde hair was piled on top her head, and her face was covered in a noxious goop called Pore Plaster. Willow's mother had made a fortune off the stuff, selling it out of her shop, Bespelled Blossoms. One application a month and you were sure to have perfect skin. 

My eyes had swollen shut the one time I'd tried it.

"What?"

"Harmony is gonna kill you. What on earth were you thinking?"

"I was thinking I was tired of being the center of Clemmy's attention, and I owed her one for being a jerk earlier."

Tightening her robe around her waist, she tiptoed across the hallway, eyes darting back and forth almost like she was crossing no man's land to reach me. "I agree she deserves payback, but I thought we all agreed to never use Clemmy to get it? You've basically just declared war."

"And? I'm not afraid of Harmony." 

I was a little afraid. The girl could hypnotize someone with a song. She made Trevor Matheson do the chicken dance in the town square after she caught him kissing another girl the day after she broke up with him. That was two years ago and he still does the occasional wing flap when Harmony walks by.

"Mmmhmm, you just remember I warned you. Your best bet is gonna be to grovel."

"I will not," I hissed. Caly pursed her lips, concern deepening the honey hue of her irises. "I won't. And besides, if she wants to get back at me, I'll just tell Ash Goodwin she's in love with him. Make her out to be psycho."

"You wouldn't dare?" My sister, ever the drama queen, slapped her hand across her lips. The periwinkle polish on her square nails was still wet.

"You've smudged your polish," I said. "Goodnight, Caly."

"Mmmhmm," she said, returning to her room, her focus now on her ruined manicure.

I shut the door and locked it. Wouldn't do any good against  the fools in this house, but the simple act of twisting the knob gave me great pleasure. But not nearly as much pleasure as stripping out of school clothes and putting on my sleeping shorts and a tank top. Into bed. Covers pulled up to my nose. 

Peace at last.