Chapter 1

Keri

I glower at the bowl in front of me. This is the worst time for intuition block. It is even worse when you come from a family that excels at divination. Me, the best I can do is a bit of water scrying when the gods deign to show something to me. Even still, it is not as strong. I get the barest glimpse of things. I am just not a diviner. I am the family disappointment. Generations of diviners and I, the eldest daughter, am a rotten diviner.

I blow a strand of hair out of my face with a weary sigh. The pale strands, undeterred, just settle back in front of my eyes, mocking my inability to focus. I can try to blame my lack of concentration on the diabolical strands, but even I don’t buy that. I stare down into the dark water of the bowl, watching the play of light from the seven candles lit around it. Images tease the corners of my vision, but nothing comes in clearly and they’re gone just as quickly.

“Come on, Keri, you aren’t focusing,” Adiele sighs.

“I am trying, Adiele. This just isn’t working. I think we just need to face it—I am not a diviner.”

“Nonsense,” she says, lifting her narrow face proudly in a rather impressive imitation of my mother, especially as she never met her. “There has never been a Thane-Durmont born who is not a diviner. It’s in your blood. It’s who you are.”

I sigh and prop my chin on my hand. “Sure, that is what they say.”

Adiele bites her bottom lip as she regards me. “You do seem to struggle a bit more than any diviner I’ve trained—and it’s not due to any lack of power. Anyone can sense that you have plenty. You just aren’t... getting it.”

“Isn’t that the truth.” I rub my head with my fingertips wearily. “My family thinks I’m just not focusing enough and lack discipline. But, damn, I’m so tired of working and failing repeatedly.”

She peers at me intently over the rim of her mug, but not without sympathy. “Maybe...it could be that you just don’t possess the talent for divination that your family assumed you would have. It happens, especially in older lineages. Perhaps it is time to accept that and find something else to focus your studies on,” she hesitantly offers.

She looks over at me helplessly and sinks down into her chair with defeat. “I’m sorry. I feel like I failed you. I was so sure that, with your family history, I could help you.”

“That’s just not true! You’ve been great and done everything possible. Hell, I’ve managed more under your tutelage over the last few months than I have in recent years.” I give her a wry smile. “I just can’t ignore it anymore—and neither can my family. I now know for certain that it is not a personal failing on my part that I’ve not reached the expected level of competence and mastery. It’s time to face it... I am just not a diviner.”

I wait for a moment, expecting the full ramifications of my words to hit and fill me with some sort of grief. But strangely, I’m not disappointed. Just the opposite, I’m relieved. I sag in my chair at the relief that one little sentence gives me and laugh softly to myself. And so, that is that. I am not a diviner, and that’s okay. I’ve just been wasting a lot of time trying to discover an ability that just isn’t mine.

I brush my hand back through my hair and grin. “It’s okay. And hey, I appreciate that you’ve given up your mornings and afternoons to help me out for this long.”

She gives me a lopsided smile. “Anything for you, babe. So how about we clean up this mess and move on to something more interesting?”

I nod and take the scrying bowl out to the garden and pour the water over the flower bed. As I do so, I whisper thanks to its spirits while Adiele snuffs and clears away the candles and herbs burned for incense. She takes the bowl from me when I come back in, and we sit together at the table. For the first time in memory, I sit entirely relaxed in the company of another witch. No pressure whatsoever to try to be something I’m not.

I actually feel freer than I have in years. No longer weighed down with my own frustration and disappointments, it is like a hundred possibilities are now opening up for me. I want to discover my magic and find my true calling. I do have a pretty strong talent and foundation in water witchery. Perhaps I will see where that may take me. My position as librarian at the Occult Library certainly puts me in the perfect position to research my options.

When not helping the random witch or sorcerer who comes through or shelving books, I have ample downtime for my own studies. Sometimes a shapeshifter or occasionally one of the more human-friendly fae—some of which we would more properly call monsters given their appearance—pop in. It’s usually with a tome or magical item to sell. Some fae are marvelously adept at finding rare spell-books and charms, while others tend to hoard them and pick a random treasure to relinquish in the spirit of “charitable cooperation.”

By that, I mean they sell them to the High Council of Seattle—and the outlying cities, including our small town—at outrageous prices, using the Occult Library as an intermediary. Our isolated location outside the city makes it a more convenient point for those who feel uncomfortable venturing into the large human cities. Because of that, we manage to do quite a bit of business.

“How is work?” Adiele asks, sipping a cup of coffee as she hands me a similar cup with a bold logo that proclaims “Have Coffee, Will Witchcraft” in bright red letters.

“It’s been quiet lately. I had a few werewolves in the other day. One of their juveniles got stuck partially shifted, and they needed access to the restricted shapeshifter section to look up how to resolve it.”

The restricted sections are a pain in the ass. Unless you work for the library or have Council clearance, the donated texts by various species to help their larger communities are off-limits. That is part of the agreement that came with acquiring the texts since no one wants anyone from another species to have knowledge that could potentially be used to harm them.

As an employee, I get to sate my curiosity because I’m bound magically by a number of extremely specific oaths to not use any of it to cause harm, but I’m also stuck with the miserable job of policing access to it. This is normally not a problem until a witch gets a hair up their ass because they can’t read up on magic that doesn’t belong to them. Thankfully, each of these sections are key-code locked.

Adiele’s eyebrows climbed. “Were they able to fix it?”

“I suspect so since they left in high spirits and didn’t return. I have my fingers crossed for that kid. It was his first shift, and I have heard that’s particularly hard.”

My friend shakes her head and takes another sip.

“What about you?” I ask. “Anything new going on down at the shop? Haven’t been by in a few days.”

Adiele snickers into her cup. “Just the usual entertainment that comes when you have giggly girls with teenage hormones for customers. I had a couple of girls looking over some of the charms when a merman came in. And you know how that species is,” she says, giving me a meaningful look.

“By reputation only, but I can certainly imagine,” I reply.