Page 56 of Magic's Dawn

“That means you shouldn’t worry about getting it right the first time around,” Mel says. “This might not even be the first wand you make this week. You may find that once you complete the project in class, you’ll realize that you needed a different ingredient and you want to do it over. I, myself, have made over fifty wands.”

A murmur goes through the coven, and excited tension fills the air.

I glance down at my pile once more. Tris had given me a raven feather and a piece of driftwood from the beach, and Delilah had added a tiny vial of moonlit water she had prepared. They’re all extras from what they collected, so I’m not depriving them of something they need to make their wands.

Still, it feels a bit like cheating. I should have made more of an effort, but every time I stopped between running errands to stare at nature, I just felt dead inside. Or maybe that was just the exhaustion and frustration working against me.

“First, you will work on shaping the bone of your wand,” Aspen instructs. “Most first wands are made of wood at their base, but as you progress, you may find you prefer glass, stone, or any number of other ingredients. The goal for this one is for the point to face straight forward when you hold it in your extended arm.”

“As you work, Aspen and I will come around to inspect your ingredients,” Mel says. “You may begin.”

I peer past Delilah’s bucket of herbs to Harper’s ingredients. A nice selection of slender branches sits in front of her, along with a puff of moss and a few pretty stones and leaves.

Behind me, Ginny’s hoard includes shells, driftwood, sea glass, and even a jar of glittering fish scales.

I don’t even want to know how she collected those. Eww.

Next to her, Ambyrlynn’s pile holds a jar of what looks like ash, quite a few leaves and sticks, dozens of feathers, and a pile of flowers.

I turn back to my minimal ingredients. There won’t be any sorting for me. As it is, I barely have enough to make a wand.

Reluctantly, I pull a piece of sandpaper from the box on our table to smooth out my piece of wood.

As we work, Mel and Aspen stroll among us, inspecting what each witch gathered.

Mel stops in front of Harper, curiosity in her eyes as she points to the fluffy ball of moss in Harper’s pile. “Interesting choice. How do you plan to combine this with your wand?”

As she answers, Aspen’s voice comes from the table behind ours, distracting me.

“You’ve gathered several excellent ingredients, Ambyrlynn,” he approves. “Narrowing your choices will be hard with three elemental affinities, so I suggest focusing on your strongest for now, and working in the minor elements when you’re more confident.”

When they reach Ginny, Mel laughs. “Bold choice with the fish scales.”

“The fish was already dead when I found it, so I hope it’s okay to use them,” Ginny whispers.

“If they call to you, then they call to you,” Mel says. “I can’t wait to see how you use them.”

My nervousness intensifies as they circle back toward our table.

Aspen stops in front of us and peers down at the bucket filled with Delilah’s flowers and herbs. In the bright sunlight, the purple and blue glitter puff paints sparkle.

Aspen’s nose wrinkles. “That’s a very…decorative bucket.”

Delilah gives him a serene smile. “It’s very special.”

A sour expression pinches his face. “So it says.”

“It’s one of our magic tools,” I say defensively.

Aspen’s gaze flickers briefly toward Ros, who stares toward us, looking menacing.

A glint of fear flashes through Aspen’s eyes before he recovers and musters a compliment. “It’s a…creative choice.”

Aspen moves past Delilah, and his cool blue eyes settle on my ingredients.

“Rowe, did you choose these ingredients because they truly called out to you?” Aspen inquires, his tone neutral but piercing.

My heart skips a beat. He didn’t ask anyone else that question. Why is he picking on me?

---