Page 32 of Counting Quarters

Chapter Seventeen

Blaire

BeaconGrovebecamea quiet, desolate place in the weeks following the Movement's attack after Samhain six months ago. The black magic that was cast on our town to fuel Rayner's sadistic agenda took longer to dissipate than any of us would have liked to admit, and its influence bled into every household. I personally shied away from the town's center, too thrown off by the gloomy haze that everyone seemed to be stuck in since then.

Storie wouldn't share what happened to her when Rayner attempted to burn her alive. We truly had no idea how she had managed to snuff out the flames and break herself free from the restraints that Rayner had placed on her. All we could gather was that she mustered up as much of hers and Remy's shared magic as she could to do it.

No one that participated in the strange event was willing to admit what they had done, and since most were cleared out before we got there, we had no way of knowing who was involved. Aside from Beau, Rayner's nephew, who went missing two weeks later, no one was punished. Anyone who dared to point a finger could easily be accused of the same thing, so everyone stayed silent.

And life went on.

Though he promised that the rest of the year would continue on as scheduled, Mayor Douglas canceled Beacon Grove's annual Yule, Imbolc, and Ostara festivals. He claimed the decisions didn't come easily, though they seemed to only keep the knee of depression further dug into the town's back.

“The people need something to celebrate,” Grammy had complained at breakfast when she opened the newspaper and read The Beacon's article about Ostara. I was still living with her then.

The Spring Equinox was a time when neighbors came together after a long, harsh winter. It was the last celebration we had before our tourist season kicked back up, when we could just be ourselves. A celebration of fertility and prosperity for the coming season, and it was also Grammy's favorite.

She was a sucker for a good time, apparently.

After about twenty minutes of stewing, she marched the newspaper up to city hall and slammed it down on Mayor Douglas' desk, a mask of pure hatred firmly in place.

I followed behind just to see the bewildered look on our mayor's face as she berated him for keeping our town—our family, as she called it—in a depressed state.

He cowered down to her like a small child.

“We don’t need any more breaks. We need unity. We need strong leadership. We need to stop allowing fear to fester and open us up to more attacks...”

He sat before her in silence, not even bothering to argue any of her points as she went on for another five minutes straight, hardly stopping to catch a breath. Once she was finished, he agreed not to cancel any other holidays on the wheel of the year.

Grammy nodded triumphantly, straightened her shirt, and walked off.

It was nice not to be her punching bag for a few minutes, and I always liked to watch Mayor Douglas squirm like a pig.

As luck would have it, the first festival Beacon Grove was set to celebrate since the Movement's horrific fire was Baltane—otherwise known as Fire Festival.

The gods truly had a sense of humor.

But we were happy to finally have something to celebrate. A distraction from the dark place our minds had been held captive for the past six months. Any energy that went into planning and setting up for the festival was energy that was taken away from the chaos Rayner left in his wake.

Storie was helping me set up the pharmacy and emergency tent for Mom a few days before the festival. Since it was mostly locals who bothered with it, we wouldn't need to sit here all day as we had for Mabon. But given the nature of things, and the fact that so many people would be wielding fire in many forms, Mayor Douglas thought it would be best to have a tent set up to treat any accidents.

Me and Storie hadn't had a chance to hang out much in the last few months. Not like we did when she lived at the hotel. She was always busy training with Remy or one of the other Quarters, and I was stuck reading the books in Grammy's study, desperately seeking any way we could get ourselves out of the mess we were in. More recently, I was trying to find a way to help the dead girls who haunted me cross over.

It seemed like a lot to unpack on one person.

The Quarters were still unaware of the Granger gifts and Grammy wanted to keep a distance between us until we figured out telling them could benefit us in the long run. She worked with them often, encouraging them to master their gifts while they searched for their Counters. Too focused on holding on to the powers themselves, their fathers never bothered to teach them the basics of controlling the elements they were born into.

When I lived with her, Grammy often came in from a long day with them, swearing she’d never go back, only to wake up the next day and do it all again.

Storie was the only one who knew I was gifted. Not because I chose to tell her, unfortunately. She had figured it out all on her own. The day she asked me about it, things shifted between us.

Caught between being a good friend and her duty as a Counter, I knew I was putting her in a difficult position by not outright admitting it to her.

November, 2021

“I have something I need to talk to you about.”

She flipped her keys around in her hands nervously as we waited for our coffees at The Grind. We'd taken a seat at one of the tables along the front window, and I could tell from the moment she walked through the front door that something was off.

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