Page 7 of These Charms Won't Fade
“For not going?”
“For giving it serious thought,” Mom says, tucking some of my wayward brunette hair back behind my ear. “But, more importantly, for creating something so incredible out of something so hard. What you and Morgan discovered all those years ago, it made so much else possible. It’s why we’re safe now. It laid the foundation for the potion that gave Sarah, and so many other witches, their magic back. Whether you teach at the academy or not, you’ve made such a tremendous mark on our community.”
I worry at my lower lip, letting her words sink in. “You… You wouldn’t be mad if I left? If Morgan and I disappeared to this hidden Scottish island for a couple years?”
“Of course not. I’d miss you, but you’re an adult. Iwantyou to go after the things that give you purpose. The things that would make you happy.” Mom smiles, and the air swirls pleased currents between us. The ground rumbles its approval, adding weight to the truth of her words. “So long as it’s whatyouwant.”
Warmth spreads through me. “I’ll keep that in mind. The logistics, though…” I groan. “I don’t want to sell my house. And what about Jack and Colby? I wouldn’t want to fly them overseas.”
A new voice cuts in. “Girl, you are surrounded by a coven of witches who love you.” Ellen Watson saunters over and rolls her eyes at me. “There are plenty of people willing to house sit and keep your cats company while you’re gone.”
I glare at my covenmate, though I can’t keep the smile off my lips. “Were you eavesdropping?”
Ellen shrugs. “It’s not my fault you didn’t bother to seclude your conversation. You know the air is a gossipy element.”
“Uh huh.” I bite back the urge to stick my tongue out at her. I may be twenty-five, but Ellen always brings out the teasing, angsty teen in me. “And I’m sure you didn’t doanythingto encourage the wind to whisper in your ear.”
A tremor works through the earth, calling us to attention. We turn to face our high priestess, Lady Ariana. My relationship with her has become so much warmer since the final battle with the Witch Hunters. Something in her shifted, like she gave herself permission to be more than just my high priestess, but my grandma, too.
“Come on,” Mom says, shooing Ellen and me toward the ring of witches forming around Lady Ariana. “It’s time to welcome in the new season.”
In more ways than one,I think as I make a direct line for Morgan, holding her hand in mine as we join the coven’s circle and greet the summer.
* * *
“What do you mean,laid off?”
The hard chair beneath me is making my ass go numb as the temperature in the office dips colder with each incredulous beat of my heart. This isnothow I expected to spend my Monday morning.
Across from me, sitting behind a wide wooden desk, the HR manager maintains a placid expression. “This is not a reflection on the quality of your work, Miss Walsh. With the shifting AI landscape?—”
“You’d rather let a computer steal from existing artists than pay actual humans to create something new,” I finish for him with a glare.
He isn’t moved by my assertions, though he does shiver as the air continues to chill. “It’s just not financially feasible in this market to maintain your position.”
“Will clients know they’re paying top dollar for AI knock-offs?” I force myself to release the air before it’s cold enough to see our exhales as puffs of white inside the office.
The HR manager, whose name I never bothered to learn and certainly won’t bother to figure out now, merely folds his hands on top of the desk. “That’s not my department.”
“Of course it’s not. I’m surprised you didn’t have a chatbot deliver this news for you.”
“We can give you up to a month to finish your current projects, and then you’ll get six weeks of severance pay,” he continues, ignoring my jab. He slides a thin manilla folder across the table. “It’s all laid out in here.”
I don’t bother opening it. “Do I still get the severance pay if I leave now?” It’s not ideal, but I can’t stomach the thought of creating anything else for these people to feed into whatever AI program they’ve invested in.
Finally, I think I’ve shaken something loose with this guy. He blinks at me a few times, head cocked to the side. The effect is owlish. “Technically, yes, but?—”
“Great. I’ll pack up my desk and be gone before lunch.”
* * *
By the timeI’m loading my car with a box of trinkets and snacks from my desk, a lightness has settled around my shoulders.
I wouldn’t havechosento get laid off today, but now that it’s happened, my future feels suddenly clear.
AI might be edging into corporate culture, but the novelists I work with believe in the importance ofhuman-created art. There will always be a market for what I do.
Besides, drawing hot queers making out is way more fun than crafting yet another corporate logo or putting together a rebrand to take a company from navy blue to slate gray.
