Page 39 of Board Games and Broomsticks

The implication hung between them, thick and weighted. Nyssa knew there was no judgement, no blame, behind the unspoken words. Not from Elowen. But all of her old self-doubt came crashing back anyway, and even though part of her wanted to march out into the garden and return that damn owl to its clay form right now, another, more exhausted part of her knew doing so in her current state would likely cause more harm than good.

‘… All right.’

The words came out tired and defeated. All of the weight had gone out of Nyssa, and she let Elowen gently coax her upstairs to her room. Let her pull the covers up over her shoulders and give her hand a reassuring squeeze before drawing her curtains shut and turning out the light.

Her eyes drifted shut the moment her bedroom door closed. Whether it was because her mind desperately wanted to escape itself, or because having someone care for her with the same unconditional, comforting love she hadn’t felt since she’d been a child under her grandmother’s care made her feely oddly safe, Nyssa found she was unable to resist the lull of sleep as it pulled her welcomingly into its embrace.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The fog plaguing Nyssa’s dream was so vivid that when she woke, it took a moment for it to disperse. But the strange, ominous feeling that it had brought with it stayed with her as she glanced outside to find the owl still lingering outside the cottage grounds. She quickly brushed her teeth and hair, and padded downstairs with Nyx at her heels.

There was a letter waiting for her on the kitchen table, and the window above the sink, where the owl envoy from the coven had arrived each time prior, was open. Nyssa let out a small, resigned sigh, because of course her third trial would arrive now, of all times.

Nyssa was about to pick it up and see what hell Edith had assigned to her this time when she heard voices coming from outside. The first, lilting and animated, had to be Liora. And the second …

Elowen.

Nyssa’s heart sped up at the sound of the elf’s gentle voice. Leaving the letter where it was for now, she followed the sound out on to the back porch, where she found Elowen curled up on the porch swing with a cup of steaming tea cradled in her hands. Liora sat next to the elf, her usual cheerful expression replaced with the pinched brow of someone who’d just received bad news. When she saw Nyssa, however, her expression soothed, and she lunged off the porch swing to throw her arms around Nyssa’s neck with a little too much vigour for so early in the morning.

‘El told me what happened.’ Liora pulled back to study Nyssa’s face, which, despite splashing with cold water, had still looked pale and sickly when Nyssa had glanced in her bathroom mirror. She tried her best to keep her expression neutral as she looked over at the owl.

‘I’ll fix it. I just need a little bit of time.’

And about three gallons of tea. There was already a mug waiting for her on the small glass table beside the swing, no doubt made by Elowen when the elf had heard her moving about. She must have seen the letter, then, and, knowing the importance of it, left it undisturbed.

A pang of affection went through Nyssa. Despite having likely been awake most of the night, Elowen looked as put together and elegant as ever as she placed her empty mug down and rose to her feet.

‘I’ve got a shift at the tavern, but I’ll meet you both at the café later tonight.’

A small nod was all Nyssa had the energy to manage. Now that she’d slept, she was already going through spells and rituals in her mind, desperately searching for something that she could use to return the owl to its clay state. It was no longer fighting against the wards. In fact, the violence of the night before seemed almost forgotten; instead, the large bird had settled on an overhanging branch, tucked its head into its chest, and seemed to have actually fallen asleep. It reminded Nyssa of a story her grandmother had told her as a child. About the owl familiar her mother had had when she was a little girl.

She didn’t realize she’d started smiling until Liora nudged her in the side. ‘What are you smiling about?’

Nyssa’s cheeks flushed. ‘Oh, nothing, it’s just a little story my grandma used to tell me.’ When Liora simply stared at her expectantly, like a child waiting for a bedtime story, Nyssa chuckled. ‘Her mother’s – my great-grandmother Sybil’s – familiar was this big, white owl named Nivia that used to fall asleep anywhere it could. Grandma used to say she’d have slept while flying if she could have. When Nivia passed, Sybil wanted to preserve her and the memories they’d made together somehow, so she created Familiars.’

Liora’s eyes widened almost as large as the owl’s. ‘Wait, she created it?’

‘She did.’ Most of the games that were now in Nyssa’s café had been pre-existing board games that Lisabeth or Sybil had enchanted with magic. But some, like Familiars, had been created entirely from scratch. ‘She tracked down some magical ink and drew the town of Nighthaven on a board, and then she wrote a spell to create a likeness of Nivia and all her favourite familiars. When I was younger, my grandma used that very same spell from her grimoire to create a figurine likeness of Nyx.’

A spell that, Nyssa remembered, was written down in the Hawthorne family grimoire. If she could find it, perhaps she could adapt it into something that could turn the owl back into its figurine state.

‘I know that look,’ Liora said, peering up at Nyssa’s face. ‘What are you planning?’

‘I think I might be able to combine that spell with a transfiguration enchantment to return the owl to its original form.’ Nyssa was already rising to her feet. ‘Sorry, Li, I know you came to visit, but do you mind if I get started on this?’

‘Of course not - I’m free to stay and help if you’d like? Not that you need it.’ There was a smug, knowing grin on Liora’s face. ‘I know you don’t see it, but you’ve come so far since I first met you, Nys. You can do anything you put your mind to. That owl doesn’t stand a chance!’

Nyssa wasn’t so sure, but she forced herself to smile in response. She didn’t understand how Liora and Elowen had so much faith in her after all the mistakes she’d made so far; the incident in her café had been one thing, but bringing Morven here? Releasing some sort of enchanted killer-owl in an attempt to trap him? They were both things that put not just them but all of Nighthaven in danger.

Nyssa didn’t know what she’d done to earn their trust, but as she climbed the stairs of her cottage to the attic with Liora at her side, she was sure of one thing: she was going to do everything she could to keep it.

After a morning of searching and penning a variety of adaptations of her great-grandmother’s spell, Nyssa had successfully managed to come up with something she was (mostly) certain would work.

Liora had sat beside her while she worked, providing fresh cups of tea and fetching various books as Nyssa called for them. Now, with the adapted spell and the ingredients they’d need at their disposal, the two of them left the honey-warm glow of the cottage and made their way down the cobblestone garden path.

The sky above was alight with the soft, buttery light of a late-autumn afternoon, and the crisp, orange leaves on the trees surrounding the grounds looked as if they were glowing beneath it. The owl was no longer sleeping; instead, it was perched on the same branch as before, eyes wide and watching as Nyssa and Liora approached. As they moved closer, it screeched in warning, which sent a spark of fear through Nyssa as she remembered how vicious the attack the night before had been. But she took a deep breath and kept moving forwards.

The owl’s feathers rustled as they came to a stop at the garden wall, its piercing gaze shifting between Liora and Nyssa. Liora, who had gone to retrieve her lyre earlier that afternoon, began to pluck at a few strings, each note gentle and coaxing even through Nyssa’s earbuds. Slowly, the owl began to settle, its feathers soothing, head cocking curiously to one side.