Page 39 of Witches of Dubious Origin
“Don’t blame the Fae for that spineless troll,” Olive said as she strode across the rooftop toward us. Per usual, she was all in black. Today it was a black-herringbone wool blazer with a thick fur collar over a black turtleneck sweater and pants. Her shoes were pointy-toed black loafers that made no sound as she glided across the gravel-strewn garden floor toward us. How did she manage to be soundless on gravel? This was not a skill that a normal person developed.
The Fae?Olive had said it as if she was defending the Fae. Was Olive a faerie? Yeah, there was absolutely no way I was asking her.
“I’m sure Zoe didn’t mean it like that,” Jasper said, casting me a meaningful glance.
“No, of course not. Um…did Ariana die?” I asked. While I was all for Mamie stopping the dark witch from stealing others’ powers, I wasn’t so hot to discover she’d committed murder.
“No, Ariana was merely rendered powerless. The alliance banished her to a ghost town—an old mining town in Pennsylvania where the abandoned mine had been burning for over fifty years—where there was not a vestige of magic to sustain her. She died twenty-seven years ago.”
“The same year as Mamie.” The idea of a dark witch stealing powers was chilling. I hunkered deeper into Jasper’s coat and took a bracing sip of hot tea. It occurred to me that this was exactly the sort of thing my mother had been talkingabout when she’d said she was trying to protect me. That, too, felt like a gut punch.
“Quite a coincidence.” As Olive came closer, I noticed that long, curved claws were visible on the ends of the fur wrap she wore. I shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.
“Olive, I haven’t seen you up here since the last of your autumn crocuses bloomed,” Miles said.
“And you won’t see me again until it’s time to plant the datura.”
I was about to ask when that was when I noticed that her fur moved. No, it didn’t just move. It climbed, tightening about her shoulders until a little head with a short snout and two round eyes popped up and peered at us from behind her back. Olive’s fur was actually a sloth!
“Well, hello, Sir Napsalot the Sage,” Miles said. “I didn’t think he ever left the greenhouse when the weather got chilly.”
“He doesn’t,” Olive said. She reached back and lifted the creature off her back, setting him on the ground. “But one of his powers is to bring tranquility, which I was in need of a few moments ago.”
She nodded at the sloth, and he studied our group. When his gaze met mine, I could have sworn he could see into my very soul, which would have been alarming except I could swear he was smiling at me. A feeling of peacefulness passed over me and I felt myself relax.
“All right, that’s enough, Napsalot,” Olive said. “Back to the greenhouse with you.”
He turned away from us and started to drag himself the thirty feet to the greenhouse. With an impatient huff, Olivescooped him up and carried him the rest of the way. We watched as she placed him on a low-lying branch of one of the many tall trees in the greenhouse.
“Just to be clear,” I said, “Olive’s familiar is a sloth?”
“Yes, but I’d strongly advise you not to take the mickey out of her about it,” Jasper said.
“She’s a bit prickly in regard to him,” Tariq agreed. “Plus, we all love Sir Napsalot. He’s good for her.”
“You called himthe sage,” I said to Miles.
“One of his many gifts is divination,” he said. “Along with time disorder and secret keeping.” He looked as if he’d say more, but Olive was striding back toward us and we all grew silent.
“What did you need tranquility for?” Miles asked.
Olive turned to me. “Because someone managed to summon Freya and she appeared in my office ten minutes ago and has been yowling nonstop ever since. I had to summon Naps just to calm her down.”
“That was me,” I confessed.
Jasper sent me a sympathetic glance, while Miles and Tariq appeared surprised. Olive, per usual, looked annoyed.
“Not to press you,” Miles said, “but I was under the impression that you had made a vow not to practice magic.”
It was moment-of-truth time. I didn’t want pity, so I kept it short and sweet and just the facts. “When my mother dropped me off at boarding school when I was fourteen, she made me promise to never use magic or witchcraft again. She said she was doing it to protect me.”
I kept my gaze fixed on the magical plate. I didn’t want tosee their expressions. “She blamed herself and her witchcraft for my father’s death. She wanted to spare me that sort of heartache, so I made the promise and I’ve never done any magic until today, when I managed to call Freya to me.”
They were all silent. In fact, they were quiet for so long, I was forced to glance up from the plate to see what they were thinking. Miles rubbed his chin thoughtfully, Tariq and Jasper looked empathetic to my plight, but Olive—once again—looked annoyed.
“Well, it’s clear to me that the reason you have been unable to translate your own family’s grimoire is because your witchcraft has been woefully neglected and your ability stunted.” Olive turned toward the building, calling over her shoulder, “Report to my office first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Okay. But…why?” I raised my voice to be heard as she was striding away. She paused and turned to face me.
