Page 19 of The Spell Caster

I changed into sleeping clothes and inspected the bed nearest the door. It seemed to be clean and already made up, so I slipped under the covers.

I’d rather stay with you, my phone displayed mercilessly.

I stuffed my head into my pillow and pushed the phone as far away from myself as I could.

***

COSTI

Barracks, huh? My accommodations had just gone from bad to worse. At least Layla would be safe with her coven. The other witches from Northern Sea were out in tents.

My new home was a cot in a white-painted room, shared with eleven other guardians. A rack for equipment took up most of one wall, a row of dark square windows on the opposite side. It smelled like sweat covered up with herbal cleaning stuff. It was empty except for one guardian.

Ash sat up as I tossed my duffel onto the bed next to theirs. They were still in uniform, their black hair hanging straight to their shoulders. I couldn’t see any injuries.

“Costi. Why don’t you ever answer your phone?”

I pulled it out and showed them the cracked screen. “Got into a little fight. No big deal.”

They smacked the phone out of my hand and sucked in a breath. “What in Hell’s name happened? What were you doing out on the seawall in the middle of the night with that spell caster?”

“Talking. Good thing, too, or we would have all been burned to a crisp in our sleep.” I sat on the creaky cot and pushed up my sleeve to examine the bandage on my bicep. The wound hadn’t bled through too badly. “I got wrecked. You okay?”

“I’m fine. Mostly. After we cleaned up your mess, I drove all day with the first evacuation group.”

“Did everyone… make it?”

They didn’t answer right away. My heart dropped.

“Not everyone,” they finally said. “Aspen, Myron, Kalmia. They… gave their lives. We didn’t lose any casters, and the angels never got past the wall.”

Shit. Three guardians dead. I used to sit with Aspen in the cafeteria. Myron was quiet, never saying much. Kalmia loved sunflower seeds and was always spitting the shells out everywhere. Three good lives ended—the first casualties in the war in a long time.

“Where did you end up?”

In a room alone with the spell caster I’m supposed to be avoiding. “One of the councilors had me evacuate Layla.”

They raised their dark eyebrows.

I looked back steadily. There was no way they could see anything on my face. “Not important. I heard the angels had weapons.”

“Yes. Some kind of lasers that could hit from the air about ten feet up. It was only thanks to fate that more of us didn’t get toasted.” They showed me a burn mark on their wrist.

I ran a hand through my hair. “What’s the chance they won’t follow us here?”

Ash barked a laugh. “Absolutely zero. We’re screwed. We’d better stay ready.”

The barracks door swung open, and black-clothed witches poured in. They were all Northern Sea guardians, about half of our twenty. Seventeen now, I remembered with a pang.

A giant of a witch named Bay plonked down on the cot next to mine. He gave an easy grin. “Blackthorn, Vervain. Glad to see you survived.” He pointed at the gash on my forehead. “That’s an improvement. Your face is too symmetrical.”

“All right, guardians,” called the middle-aged witch who followed the group in. Her hair was streaked with gray and pulled back in a severe bun. “I’m Tansy Daire, the security coordinator here at the Mountain Circle. I’ll be helping you get settled. I’m reassigning all of you based on your skill level.”

Ash caught my eye with a skeptical frown, and I saw others around me looking the same. Reassigning us without our input? That was… different.

“Our guidelines for guardians are similar to those of the Northern Sea Circle, designed to help you manage your Troubled natures and be a successful, contributing member of witch society.”

I couldn’t stop an eye roll, but Daire didn’t seem to notice.

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