Page 78 of Magic in My Bones

“Maybe,” I said to Professor Reedy.

She offered a kind smile and put a hand on my shoulder. “I know you’ve got it in you, Wickens. You’ll get through this. I have faith.” She reached into her robe pocket and pulled out a smooth black stone, offering it to me. “Here. Sometimes when our magic feels distant, having something tangible to ground us can help. This is black tourmaline. It's particularly good for protecting against negative energy and self-doubt.”

I took the stone, feeling its comforting weight in my palm. It was warm, as if it had been sitting in sunlight rather than her pocket, but it wasn’t the same as having Grim perched on my shoulder.

I trudged out of the classroom, my feet as heavy as my heart. The corridors of Blackstone Academy seemed to stretch endlessly before me, a labyrinth of stone and secrets that I was beginning to fear I'd never truly unravel. My brain felt like complete mush. I couldn’t wait to see Dorian. At least I had that still going for me.

As I made my way across the grounds towards Dorian's cottage, the crisp autumn air nipped at my cheeks, carrying with it the scent of fallen leaves and woodsmoke. The setting sun painted the sky in beautiful brushstrokes of oranges and purples. Thick, wispy clouds floated above while birds and squirrels chattered in the trees.

I smiled as soon as I saw the warm glow from the windows of Dorian’s cottage. I imagined him inside baking something in his kitchen with Bones at his side, or perhaps hunched over his work desk grading papers. The kettle was probably already on, and the fireplace going judging from the smoke billowing out of the chimney.

As I approached the cottage, I noticed an unfamiliar figure through the window. My stomach did a little flip-flop of anxiety. I'd been looking forward to some one-on-one time with Dorian, but it seemed the universe had other plans.

I knocked on the door, fidgeting with the strap of my messenger bag. Dorian's warm voice called out, “Come in, Ren!”

I pushed open the door, stepping into the cozy warmth of the cottage. The scent of cinnamon and cloves wafted through the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of old books and woodsmoke. Dorian stood by the fireplace, a steaming mug in his hand and a gentle smile on his face. Beside him was a striking individual I'd never seen before.

They were tall and lithe, with sun-kissed bronze skin and curly blond hair that fell to their shoulders. What caught my attention, though, were the modest spiraling horns peeking out from their hair and the dark brown hooves where feet should have been. A faun, or at least part-faun, I realized.

“Ren,” Dorian said, his voice warm and welcoming, “I'd like you to meet Rowan Greyfable. Rowan, this is Ren Wickens.”

Rowan's eyes met mine, a warm smile spreading across their face. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ren,” they said. “Dorian's told me so much about you.”

My cheeks flushed, and I wondered exactly what Dorian had shared. “Oh, um, nice to meet you too,” I stammered, my social graces apparently deciding to take the day off along with the rest of my brain.

A flash of movement caught my eye, and I noticed a cream-colored fennec fox with nine flowing tails perched on the back of Dorian's armchair. The familiar's oversized ears twitched in my direction, and all nine tails fanned out in what seemed like curiosity. The fox disappeared in a shimmer of golden light, only to reappear on Rowan's shoulder, her tails wrapping around them like a living scarf.

“And this is Eko,” Rowan said with a fond smile, reaching up to scratch behind one of the fox's enormous ears. “My familiar and partner in all things magical. Don't let her regal appearance fool you. She's an absolute sweetheart.”

As if to prove Rowan's point, Eko chirped softly and vanished again, reappearing at my feet where she wound between my ankles in a greeting that felt surprisingly comforting.

“Your familiar,” I said, watching in fascination as Eko's tails moved with impossible grace. “I've never seen a nine-tailed fox before. I thought they were just legends.”

“Oh, she very much enjoys that reaction,” Rowan laughed as Eko preened, her tails fanning out in an impressive display. “She was quite ordinary when we first met. But as our bond grew stronger, so did her magical nature.”

Eko chirped what was clearly agreement, using one of her tails to straighten the crystal pendant around Rowan's neck.

“Show-off,” Rowan said fondly. “Though I suppose I can't talk. You should have seen me when I first got my horns. I was insufferable for weeks.”

Dorian chuckled, stepping over to a small side table with a pot of tea. “Rowan is a life and relationship coach,” he explained, setting down two steaming mugs in front of us. “They use psychomancy to help their clients navigate their lives and relationships. Sort of a fusion of traditional psychotherapy with a magical edge.” He turned to Rowan, a fond glint in his eyes. “Rowan helps magical folk navigate their paths. Think ofthem as a spiritual cartographer, mapping the landscapes of our hearts and magic. Their work has helped many at Blackstone find their way, myself included.”

I frowned. “Psychomancy? Is that…mind reading and influencing people’s thoughts?”

Rowan gave a small, knowing smile. “Psychomancy is the use of magic to read, influence, or heal the mind and emotions. It’s different from mind reading. It’s more about understanding the energy patterns that shape how we think and feel. It’s a way of aligning your emotional and spiritual self to help you move forward, especially when things feel like they’re stuck. While it can be used to influence minds and decision making, that isn’t its primary function, no more than a necromancer’s powers are meant to be used to enslave spirits.”

I let that sink in. It sounded... soothing, in a way. Like something that could help when I felt too overwhelmed to handle things myself. “I think I get it,” I murmured.

Rowan smiled softly. “It’s like untangling knots, mentally and emotionally, helping you find clarity.”

Dorian then added, “Rowan’s going to help us cleanse the ritual site at the old academy grounds. It’s a place of power, and with everything happening around here lately, it’s become a bit... unstable. Rowan’s energy work will help neutralize some of the residual energies. But Rowan is also here to offer their services individually. They do energy checks and alignment work, something I’ve made use of periodically.”

I blinked, a little surprised. “You—”

Dorian gave me a playful, yet slightly sheepish grin. “I sometimes need a little check-up. Mental and magical energy, especially with all the necromantic work I do, can get... a little out of sync. So Rowan’s helped me a few times.” His gaze softened, a touch of affection in his eyes. “They’re good at helping me stay balanced.”

I nodded slowly, still absorbing the idea of magical energy check-ups. “Sounds... useful,” I said, my voice quieter now.

Rowan chuckled lightly, as though reading my mind. “It can be very grounding,” they said. “In a way, we all carry energetic imprints of our past experiences. Things that can influence how we feel, act, and think. With psychomancy, I help people release those imprints, so they can move forward without carrying the weight of old emotions or stagnant energy.”

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