Page 14 of These Witches Don't Burn
“You should have thought of that before you chose to use your magic so carelessly. Be grateful I don’t send you to school with a binding charm.” Lady Ariana’s threat hangs in the air, turning my stomach even though her words weren’t aimed at me. The thought of wearing a binding ring again, of forcing my magic out of reach, is almost unbearable. “Hannah, you will share in Veronica’s punishment. I’m moving your final initiation back thirty days.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” All the magic I’ve been dying to learn my entire life—air messages and scrying and creating fire from nothing—slips further out of reach.
“Isn’t that a bit harsh, Mother?” Dad says, coming to my defense. “Hannah did tell us about the Reg ritual this morning.”
Lady Ariana’s expression remains impassive. “Did she mention Veronica’s transgressions?” When Dad doesn’t reply, she shakes her head. “I cannot show her favoritism, Tim, just as I couldn’t do the same for you. She and Veronica will share an equal punishment. And for her outburst, she’s banned from this week’s usual lesson as well.”
Anger and bitter disappointment flare inside, and it takes every ounce of self-control to keep my mouth shut. To hold back the tears stinging my eyes. I glare at Veronica, whose ownoutburstdidn’t lengthen her sentence, but I don’t dare say anything. With my luck, I’d lose another week of lessons for breathing too loud.
“Come.” Lady Ariana ushers our parents back toward the cars. “The girls need time to consider their actions.” She glances at me over her shoulder, and I catch a brief hint of familial love. “Good luck.”
5
WE’RE TRAPPED.
It takes every ounce of the control that’s been hammered into me my entire life to keep the panic at bay. I reach for the earth, trying to convince it to let me go, but it’s still saturated with my grandmother’s power. Her magic is strong. Unyielding. Just like her.
We’re not going anywhere.
“This is ridiculous,” Veronica grumbles once she’s sure we’re alone. “I have three graduation parties tonight. This is going to ruin my manicure.”
I close my eyes—partially to stop myself from rolling them at Veronica’s out-of-whack priorities—and push against the earth’s power, begging it to move, to soften, to loosen its hold. Nothing. Not the barest of budges. “Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t have used your magic in public. You’ve gotten careless.”
“Well, ifyouweren’t so irrationally afraid of Blood Witches, Lady Ariana never would have found out.” Veronica curses as she struggles against the immovable earth. “This is just as much your fault as mine.”
“It’s not irrational to be afraid of someone who tried to kill you,” I snap back, and Veronica finally shuts up. I reach again for the earth’s power, but I’m like an ant trying to move a mountain. It doesn’t help that earth has always been my weakest element.
Veronica doesn’t seem to be having better luck. She struggles and groans but stays firmly rooted in the ground.
While we strain our magic to dig ourselves out of these vertical graves, my mind drifts back to last night. What reason could a Reg have for doing this? What did they hope to accomplish? And then there’s the bigger question: Who?
Evan still seems like the best suspect given his purchases at the Cauldron, but that doesn’t mean it was him.
There’s also Nolan. He certainly had a strong reaction to the sacrifice. Was he actually pissed or simply using his outrage to hide his involvement? He had plenty of time to perform the ritual before Gemma and I arrived in the woods.
Or maybe this wasn’t even meant to be a spell. Maybe Savannah was trying to mess with me again. After she slipped in the blood and hurt her wrist, she could have faked seeing someone else run away from the scene ofhercrime.
“This is useless.” Veronica sighs, her forehead damp with sweat. “There’s no way we can overpower Lady Ariana’s magic.”
Veronica’s right, but I don’t say so. I don’t say anything. Despite what she thinks, this whole thing is her fault.
The breeze picks up, fluttering the grass that’s practically at eye level. Lady Ariana spelled the earth, but she didn’t touch theair.
“Do you remember when Gabe was eight, and he slipped off his binding charm without permission at our Beltane celebration?” I ask, the memory of Veronica’s younger brother bringing a smile to my lips despite everything.
Veronica laughs. “He got so dizzy from dancing around the maypole that he spun a cyclone that nearly uprooted all ofLady Ariana’s gardens.” She glowers. “His first initiation was only pushed back two weeks for that.”
“He was a child, V. Of course his sentence was lighter.” I scowl at her. “And he was surrounded by the coven, not a bunch of Regs.”
“What’s your point?”
“Mypointis that I have an idea.” I reach for the air, my magic humming under my skin, and grab hold of its will. It resists at first—air is a slippery element—but soon it bends to my call and starts to spin.
It takes all my focus to spiral the air into a thin cyclone and keep it from growing too large. The mini tornado pulls my hair loose and whips it around my face. As the wind reaches maximum velocity, I send the cyclone tunneling into the ground. Dirt flies into the air, and my makeshift shovel loosens the earth that binds me. I push until my muscles ache, until my power fades, and I only hope it’s enough.
When the wind calms, and the dirt settles, Veronica and I are both covered in debris. I climb out of my loosened grave and fall onto my back, chest heaving from the effort.
“Clever,” Veronica says, a smile on her face. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she looked proud. The warmth in her gaze, the familiarity of that old us-against-the-world look in her eyes, punctures the armor around my heart.
