Page 22 of With This Witch
Gammy gasps, placing her hand on her chest in fake alarm, “You wound me! Can’t a grandmother visit her only granddaughter whenever she feels like it?”
Petra can’t help but let a little smile through. Many people don’t get to see this silly side of Gammy, and Petra will forever be grateful that she is one of them.
“Was that a crack in the armor I saw? Please share why you are so guarded that I could feel your shield across town.”
“You couldnotsense my shield across town,” Petra shoots back, side-eyeing Gammy before pouring their tea.
“No, I could not. But you admit you are shielding right now. Let us go have a seat and discuss what has my granddaughter so worked up,” she says as she turns around and sees there is no place to sit, as every surface has been buried under…something. “Or we can stand here instead?”
Petra shakes her head and flicks her wrist, sending everything in the living room back into its rightful place. Books fly off the table and back on her bookshelves, dinnerware soars back into the cupboards, and blankets fold themselves as they return to the linen closet. With another flick of her wrist, steaming cups of tea, perfectly prepared for each of them, appear on the counter, and Petra hands Gammy hers.
Petra gestures toward the sofa and chair set in the living room. She sits on the soft pink and puffy, oversized chair, and folds herself into it, making herself as small as possible. Gammy sits on the couch, bringing her feet up beside her, then turns to look at Petra and tilts her head as she takes in her granddaughter’s protective posture.
“What’s all this about?”
Petra sighs, deciding where to start and what details to share—wondering how she protects herself, her Gammy, and their legacy. As a member of the council, Gammy is privy to more information than Petra is, but she wonders how much she truly knows about the other council members. She appreciates that Gammy sits patiently, giving her space and time to form what she wants to say.
“I’m just having a hard time with processing everything and what it means for any plans I had,” Petra finally says.
“Yes, I know a lot has been thrown at you this week, and I can understand your need to shield, to feel like you need to protect yourself. But you must remember that when you build a shield as thick as I’m sensing, you protect yourself not only from harm but from others getting close to you.”
Petra looks down at her hands in her lap and watches her fingers as she repeatedly weaves them together and apart. She tries her best not to sound broken. “I know. The shield was not intentional. It developed after I left the Wilks estate last night and appears to have continued to grow in intensity since. My magic feels…off.” Petra looks up as she finishes her statement and sees the tiniest flare of surprise in Gammy.Interesting. She didn’t know I was there last night. Did she even know about the party?
“When did your magic start to feel different?” Gammy asks, ignoring the mention of the Wilks family.
“It was fine last night, but it hasn’t been quite right since I got up this morning. I figured it was due to stress. Why? Do you think something is wrong?”
“Perhaps. We must wait for your shield to dissipate before we truly know.”
“Okay…” She tries not to be concerned or let the thoughts from earlier infiltrate her visit with Gammy. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything, my girl.”
“You looked surprised just now when I mentioned being at the Wilkses’. Why?”
Petra can see the gears turning in Gammy’s head. There’s something there, something deeper than just the long-standing competition with the Wilkses. “I was both surprised to hear there was a gathering, as I imagine it was a last-minute venture, and that I was so conveniently left out. Which makes me wonder what their angle was. Who all was there?”
“Everyone. The other council members, community members, business owners…”
“Interesting. I assume Grog was in attendance?”
Petra swallows. She doesn’t want to repeat the swill that Grog said to her last night, but she nods her head in answer.
“Curious. I wonder…” Gammy says, her words trailing off as a look of deep thought emerges on her face.
“What is it?” Petra asks.
“I wonder if Grog is behind this. Trying to put Miss Wilks front and center,” Gammy responds, reaching forward and picking up her drink again.
Petra shifts, unfolding herself and sitting upright with her legs crisscrossed on the oversized seat. “Why do you think he’s orchestrating it?”
“Grog and I have…a bit of history,” Gammy begins. Petra senses this will be a lengthy story, so she picks up her teacup and leans back, settling in. “Hegnir was already on the council when I joined as the newly appointed Premier Witch. Your grandfather had recently passed, and your father was only a few months old. I had a lot to manage at the time since my own mother had passed during this time as well. She was a formidable witch who had an unfortunate run-in with a group of angry shifters, and it didn’t end well for her. Anyway, I digress. One of my first votes as Premier Witch was on an issue close to my heart. The council had been working toward a more integrated society with the human world. They wanted us to co-exist with the humans and actually be able to support each other. Well, some of them did. When I joined the council, Hegnir took it as an opportunity to sway the vote to his side—the anti-integration side. He always felt that humans didn’t deserve to benefit from our abilities and believed that we needed to stay separate. The council, of course, voted in favor of the integrated community, and he believed that it was my fault. That my vote was the deciding one, and had I have voted with him and his cronies, then our world would be the better for it.”
“Wow. So he’s always been a hateful prick?”
Gammy snorts. “That’s one way to put it. But yes, he’s always been… challenging, and traditional in his beliefs. He was so upset that he cornered me on a walk with your father in a pram one evening. He threatened me and said I would live to regret what I’ve done. Hegnir has been a thorn in my side for nearly fifty years now, always pushing against what is best for our community, both human and supernatural. He fails to see the progress we have made and instead continues to try and send us back to a time of witch hunts and troll dungeons.”
“That’s a lot of resentment to carry for so long. So what does this have to do with the Wilkses and their party?”
