Page 39 of Magic in the Woods
I almost smiled as I opened the door. He wasn’t disappointing to look at—he was fascinating to stare at. But there was no way I was going to tell him that.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dafni
WasI one of those lovesick girls from the fairy tales my grandmother used to tell me before I fell asleep? I still had that funny feeling in my stomach, even a week after meeting Gideon. Maybe I still had some of the love potion floating around in there. That was the only explanation for the way I was feeling.
Our lips had touched. He’d brought me back to his room so I could recover from the love potion in private. That was all. We’d both stared at each other, each of us trying to figure the other out. I’d probably stared the most. He was unlike anyone I’d ever laid eyes on…but that was it. There was nothing between us.
All week, I’d kept the healing potion I’d made tucked between my breasts in my bra, scanning faces every time I walked through the dome to class hoping to see the witch I’dhurt. Without the potion, she had to be in a lot of pain, her finger still bent at an awkward angle.
It wasn’t until today that I saw her, standing nearby a group of witches, her uninjured hand wrapped around the injured one, holding it in front of her chest like it bothered her.
As I walked toward her, I plucked the tube from my shirt, wrapping my entire hand around the glass so no one could see it. She didn’t notice me until I got close, taking a step back, alerting her friends to my presence. They all turned and looked at me, their lips curling up.
I began extending my arm, holding the tube in my hand. The witches all bent their knees, pointing their index and middle fingers at me.
“Wait!” I yelled, bringing the potion back to my chest and closing my eyes.
They were about to strike me with their magic.
I slowly opened my eyes to see the witches still standing in the offensive stance, waiting for me to make my next move.
“I have something for you,” I said to the injured witch. Slowly, I spread my fingers, revealing the tube resting on my palm.
I tried to hold my hand steady as she walked toward me, her boots clicking on the ground with every step. With her uninjured hand, she picked up the potion, holding it at eye level while swirling its contents in the glass.
I saw her eyes as soon as she pulled the tube away. She was smiling with them instead of her lips. Her friends jumped out the way of the tube as she threw it against the brick wall, the glass shattering and the potion spattering.
“I don’t need any help—especially not from a human-born,” she spat.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I made that for you. It was supposed to help with pain, promote healing?—”
I jumped to the side as poison from her mouth hit the dirt floor where I’d just been standing.
My head cocked back and to the side as I stared at her. I’d just tried to help her, to do the right thing, and she’d literally thrown my kindness away.
Why was I apologizing to her for doing the right thing? It’d always been so easy to apologize, to appease others. I’d been trained from a young age not to rock the boat—to just apologize so everyone, mainly my mother, would be happy. It’d always come at the cost of my own happiness. Apologize so everyone else felt better. It’d never made me feel any better. Especially when what I was apologizing for wasn’t my fault.
“I take that back,” I said, my voice not wavering. “I’m not sorry I made that for you. If you would’ve taken it, maybe you’d be able to compete in your precious evaluations.”
This wasn’t a Coven of witches, this was a jumble of anger and resentment—with everyone teetering on the edge of their tipping point. Today I’d tried to help someone, and that offer of help had pushed them past their breaking point. Maybe she’d been too proud to take help from a supposedly human-born witch.
Fine. Don’t take my help. Suffer instead.
My kindness in here was being misread as weakness.
I walked past the group of witches, the heels of my boots crunching the broken glass on the ground. Their eyes heated the back of my neck as I headed to the class they’d just made me late for.
Petunia was at it again. Arcana had the air magics practicing levitating—the witches sending wind from their fingertips toward the hard ground, their bodies swaying back and forthas they went airborne. Plumes of dust flew up from the dirt after their bodies fell, having become unbalanced in the air.
I could hardly pay attention to my potion, instead having to watch and make sure one of the air witches didn’t land on the work bench and cause another unfortunate love-potion incident. Though this time, we were being drilled on making an expelling potion, and if I got any of this in my mouth, I’d be on my hands and knees emptying the contents of my stomach onto the floor.
The earth magic witches were on the opposite side of the room to the air magic witches and were trying to coax water from the dirt between the bricks. Brooke, having already mastered the skill before she came here, stood with her back against the wall, watching the air magic witches. We locked eyes for a moment—both rolling them as Petunia pushed one of the levitating witches, causing her to lose her balance and topple to the ground.
“Witches!” Arcana said clapping her hands together. “Robinson will be here shortly to observe the progress you’ve made over the past weeks. Please remember to do your best to show him everything I’ve taught you!”
Around me the water magics stirred their potions with more vigor, and Brooke even turned back around, willing a trickle of water from the wall. Petunia used her air magic to push herself even higher in the classroom, well above our heads.
