Page 75 of Last Witch Attempt
“Look here,” Evan said after a few minutes. He pointed to a worn pathway. “Hikers didn’t do this.”
“This is leading somewhere.” I scanned the ground but there were no prints. “Just out of curiosity, if naiads prefer being barefoot all the time, how do they make it through winter? Wouldn’t their toes fall off?”
“I think they’re sturdier than humans,” Thistle replied.
We hadn’t walked much farther when we stumbled into what looked like a campsite, including a firepit. A number of sticks had been poked into the ground surrounding the pit.
“What are those for?” Clove asked.
“Humans,” Thistle replied. “They chop them up and dry the meat.” She looked far too amused with herself when Clove shuddered.
“Can you not get her going?” I complained. “She’ll start whining if you keep it up.”
Clove was offended. “I don’t whine.”
I snickered, then caught myself. “Of course not,” I said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Don’t placate me.” Clove insisted. “I’m a mother now. Mother’s don’t whine.”
“Obviously, you haven’t met our mothers,” Thistle offered.
“I’m telling.” Clove’s upper lip curved into a sneer. “They won’t like that you called them whiners. You won’t be getting a cookie delivery this week.”
I froze and turned to Clove. “What cookie delivery?”
“We get a cookie delivery every week,” Clove replied. “They stop in to visit us. Are you saying you don’t get a cookie delivery?”
Anyone else would’ve assumed the innocent expression on her face was legitimate. I knew better. “How long have they been delivering cookies to you?”
“Since we moved out.” Clove clasped her hands in front of her. “I just assumed they were doing it for you too. Maybe you’re not as loved as we are.”
That was the evil side of Clove that most people never saw. She wanted to be the family favorite. That’s why she got pregnant first … and married first, although the marriage happened right on the heels of the pregnancy.
Even when she wasn’t the favorite—something she refused to acknowledge—she was always angling to get back to the top of the triangle. Magic-wise, I was at the top. I was the most powerful. When it came to brains, Thistle was the dominant force. Clove was always working to be at the top in terms of popularity.
“We have some very strange dynamics in this family,” I complained. When I looked up, Evan was grinning. “It’s not funny. We don’t get a cookie delivery every week.”
“Maybe that’s because you eat ten meals a week at the inn and get your cookies there,” Evan replied. “Why would theymake a special visit to you when you’re already the favorite because you spend the most time with them?”
Clove’s lower lip jutted out. “That is the meanest thing you’ve ever said. I thought you were on my side.”
“I’m not playing that game.” Evan vehemently shook his head. “I don’t have favorites.”
“Aunt Tillie is your favorite,” I countered. “Don’t pretend you’re not worried about her.”
“I am a little worried,” he conceded as he moved to the fire pit, intent on finishing the search. “Tillie probably shouldn’t be going after Millie on her own.”
“Why is that?” Thistle challenged. “She created this mess. She needs to deal with the fallout.”
“She didn’t do it on purpose,” I argued. “I saw the look on her face this morning. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that she unleashed a whole other her. You can’t hold this against her.”
“Oh, give me a break.” Thistle wasn’t having it. “The only reason Millie exists is because at some point Aunt Tillie either opened a door to let her into this world or created her to be a scapegoat. Don’t pretend there’s another explanation.”
I wanted to argue—sometimes it was fun to fight with Thistle just for the cardio workout—but I couldn’t. She was right. Millie was here because Aunt Tillie had used her to solve a problem in the past. Now we were in trouble because nobody had control of whatever Millie was.
“Casting blame won’t make things better,” I argued. “If Aunt Tillie turns defensive, it will only make things worse. Millie is a problem—and I have a feeling that she’s going to become a bigger problem—but playing the blame game won’t make things easier.”
Thistle made a face. "You always take Aunt Tillie’s side. Even when she does something stupid, you make excuses for her.”
