JACULUS WATCHED ABIATHAR WITH UNEASY EYES AS HE SIPPED ON A CUP OF TEA, SEEMINGLY UNBOTHERED BY THE EVENTS OF THE PREVIOUS NIGHT. Jaculus had kept to himself the entire morning, unsure if Abiathar was still angry with him. But Abiathar had bounced back to his regular self, even greeting him with a gentle pat on the head.

    Breakfast had been served in mostly silence, with Abiathar flipping through another book and Jaculus guzzling down a piece of chicken as if his life depended on it.

    “Would you like to tend to the garden with me?” Abiathar asked, pressing the tips of his fingers together.

    Jaculus stood up, nodding. At least he was finally speaking to him. “Yeah, what do I need to do?”

    Abiathar placed a stack of notebooks in Jaculus’s palms, making him sway under the weight. “I just need some help with taking a survey of all the spirits under my care. All you have to do is check off names and write in new ones.”

    In the morning sun, Abiathar’s garden was less eerie and more ethereal, a collage of bright and deep greens that intertwined with yellow and pink flowers. Small spirits danced between the trees, brushing past Jaculus’s shoulders and hair. He couldn’t help but be amazed. The strongest memories he had with spirits were negative, images of snarling, bloodthirsty beasts plaguing his mind. But the creatures in Abiathar’s garden were angelic, breathtaking. It was an entirely different world within his gates.

    “Abiathar, what’s this?” Jaculus asked, bending down to inspect a tattered scrap of cloth covered in leaves and dirt. It was a cloak made from blue silk, and a quick dusting-off revealed golden embroidery in the shape of a stag.

    Abiathar lifted it from the ground, his shoulders becoming tense. “Oh, uh, that’s nothing!” he said quickly, tossing the cloak back into the brush, “I was letting the spirits use it as a blanket, that’s all.”

    Jaculus noticed he was far too flustered for it to be “nothing.” He didn’t question it.

    “Let’s just get back to work,” he murmured, whisking Jaculus to the other side of the garden, “I would like to get inside and organize my herbs.”

    A mouse-like spirit crawled by Jaculus’s foot, making him jump. He wasn’t used to the massive amount of life within the garden. Abiathar, however, called it by name, giving it a pat to the head.

    Abiathar suddenly froze, shifting his spine as a shudder ran down his back. He looked horrified, rubbing the thin skin on top of his hands.

    “What’s wrong?” Jaculus said, peeking around to catch a glimpse of his eyes.

    “We have guests.”

    Jaculus’s heart began to pound as he remembered the humans that had tried to hunt him down that fateful night. He threw an involuntary glance over his shoulder, almost expecting to see another snarling hound spirit.

    “Who is it? What’s going on?”

Abiathar shook his head, shutting his notebook. “We should head to the house.”

---
   

“You think he still lives here?” a man asked, scratching his head. He was short, curly blond hair framing his full face and vibrant green eyes.

    Beside him, a plump woman crossed her arms. “If I know one thing about Witchmaster Abiathar, it’s that he wouldn’t move. I’m sure he’s just not home at the moment.”

    “Who’s that?” Jaculus whispered, huddled behind Abiathar, who was hiding behind a bush.

    Abiathar’s eyes were wide. “They’re my old coven members,” he rasped, “I used to lead them. I haven’t seen them in years.”

    It was hard to recognize in such pristine condition, but the man and woman wore the same very cloaks Jaculus had found on the ground. They seemed younger, a bit younger than Abiathar. Had Abiathar really been their leader? He couldn’t imagine Abiathar leading anything, nonetheless hanging out with anything other than a book.

    “Please say nothing,” Abiathar murmured to Jaculus, stepping out into view. “Rene, Aliza, is that you?” he called, voice weary.

    “There he is!” the man, Rene, cried, slapping a hand on his shoulder, “I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth! It’s been years since the coven’s been back together.”

    Abiathar shook his head, tugging at the hem of his collar. “It has,” he agreed meekly, “What brings you two back here? I thought we had disbanded.”

    “We just thought we’d check up on you!” the woman said, brushing her black ponytail off her back. She gently pushed Abiathar aside, raising her eyebrows. “Who’s that little guy over there?”

    Abiathar waved his hands frantically. “Oh-uh, that’s-”

    Aliza’s eyes narrowed as Jaculus craned his head around the bush. “That’s a higher spirit,” she said, incredulous, “You let a higher spirit into your house? Are you serious?”

    Jaculus’s cheeks burned red. Abiathar gathered him by his side, almost protective. “H-he was injured. I couldn’t just let him die.”

    “This is dangerous, Witchmaster Abiathar,” Rene said, staring up at Abiathar, “You heard what the other Witchmasters said-”

    Abiathar turned his back, taking Jaculus with him. Jaculus saw his knuckles turn white from the iron grip on his shoulders. “I believe I need to be going inside now. It’s almost time for lunch.”

    Not so kindly, Abiathar slammed the front door.