Page 12 of A Witch for Solstice
“This is the soup that will be served at the ball tomorrow?”
“Yep. Be honest.” Alistair folds his arms over his chest. “And don’t try too hard to impress that one,” he says, cocking his head at Matty. “She’s always had excellent taste in friends, and shit taste in soup.”
I look around and find a dozen sets of eyes on me, all eagerly awaiting a decision I probably shouldn’t be making.
Picking a soup might seem like a trivial matter, but I’m sensitive to disapproval after a lifetime of it. I’ve learned to bend myself backwards to make people like me, sometimes pretending to enjoy a dish, or that I’m ok with taking on an extra project just to please somebody.
No one ever asks for me honesty, but the vibe in the kitchen is warm and welcoming. I lean back against Matty and get the notion that I can be myself here as I inhale her comforting scent.
“Broccoli cheese, obviously,” I answer, half-expecting everyone to chuck spoons at me for choosing a different answer than their Queen. Instead they all cheer, the commotion to prepare tomorrow’s feast already beginning. The kitchen explodes with the chaos of boiling pots and beating wings, and I close my eyes, hyperaware of the flames on the fire range.
Matty rubs her thumb along my waist and whispers, “It’s feeling a little crowded in here. Would you like to go for a walk?”
I nod without asking what she has planned, ready to go wherever she wants to take me.
CHAPTER 6
MATTY
Steam swirls from our mugs of hot chocolate as we stroll outside the castle walls, avoiding the gates where the carriages are arriving. I don’t want to be bombarded by visitors when I’m spending my first day with Brigid.
“I have to show you something,” I tell her, happy that she’s starting to warm up to me.
She stomps up the hill beside me, her red cloak trailing in the snow as she peers down at the frozen lake in the valley below. Shifted dragons twirl gracefully, carving patterns into the thick ice with their blades.
“They’re ice-skating.” The fur trim of her hood blows around her merry face. “Are you going to join them?”
“No. I never do unless I have to. It’s never been my forté.”
“Mine neither,” she says. “It always makes me feel clumsy.”
“That’s because you’re made of fire, just like me.”
“Yes,” she says, a question in her eyes I can’t answer yet. “I am.”
A breeze shakes a few snowflakes loose from a cluster of nearby trees, a single one landing on her cheek. I swipe it away and point to a circle of stone cottages on the other side of the valley. “Fire witches used to live as priestesses in a templeoutside of the Firecrag Fortress. The temple is gone, but we still employ witches to bolster our defenses. Their coven resides over there, and I know they’ll be happy to welcome you into their community once I speak to their head witch. Melinda is the sweetest.”
Brigid makes an odd sound, her voice cracking as she says, “I never expected you to do all this for me. You don’t owe me anything.” She takes a sip of her hot chocolate and touches her neck as if she’s trying to swallow a lump in her throat. “I keep thinking I’m having the most bizarre and wonderful dream.”
“Helping someone escape a bad situation is common decency,” I insist. “But it’s also important to keep you close in case the Headmistress comes looking for you.”
She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and shakes her head. “She won’t. Believe me.”
“Are you sure about that? Because it sounds like Maven went to great lengths to control your gifts.”
She looks sheepish. “That’s because fire is the most dangerous element.”
“Is it the most dangerous element, or is it just the biggest threat to the hedgewitches? I’m sure the Academy has seen more than a few scary acts of magic.”
“Well, there was that time when a witch accidentally unleashed a murderous thorn bush on campus, and that other time when a student nearly drowned everyone with her witch tears during a watery tantrum,” she says, spinning her mug in her hands. “It always seemed unfair that no one else ever lost their gifts. Just me, the only fire witch.”
“That’s right. The Shadowthorne Coven knows you have a powerful talent for wielding your element, and that scares them. They might attempt to retrieve you in order to prevent you from seeking revenge.”
“I don’t want revenge, just a fresh start in a place where I’m free to use my gifts.” She bites her lips together, staring at the marshmallows bobbing in her drink. “What should I do if they show up and try to force me to go back to the Academy?”
A hot growl rumbles up my throat. “You have my permission to roast anyone who tries to take you from me.”
Brigid gives me a puzzled look, a cool silence settling on the air between us. Bringing her mug to her lips, she quirks an eyebrow above the rim. “Because I’m your favorite fling?”
