Spellcaster

“At least it’s original.” Dad laughed, though he was clearly distracted; Nadia could tell she’d have to remind him of Verlaine’s name again.

“We’ll be upstairs, okay, Dad?” Nadia hurried Verlaine out as smoothly as she could. For his part, Dad settled back into work; when he got his head into legal questions, he usually didn’t resurface for hours. Cole, meanwhile, had only looked away from the Disney Channel long enough to wave.

Verlaine followed her up to the attic, obviously wary, but when she got there, her reaction was almost deflated. “I thought this would be all, you know, spooky and mysterious.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Nadia stowed her school stuff in a corner. Already she’d set up a couple of card tables; someday soon, around the end of the month, she’d go Dumpster diving and see if she couldn’t find something sturdier to replace them with. Her various ingredients were stored in test tubes and flasks she’d ordered from medical-supply catalogs, along with a few apothecary jars that had been in her family for a long time, left behind by Mom when she went, probably by accident. Her Book of Shadows might get to look mystical in time—as they gained power, apparently, they could change appearance and practically take on lives of their own—but right now it looked like an ordinary leather-bound journal propped on a windowsill.

But it wasn’t all science. She had some oversize pillows to sit on, the protective blue ceiling like a cloudless sky overhead, and a secret stash of chocolate. Some materials and ingredients had the power to conduct and focus magic, and weirdly, wonderfully, chocolate was one of the best.

As she tossed Verlaine one of the mini candy bars, Nadia said, “So, you need to really listen to this, okay? Think long and hard before you say you want to stay. It’s serious.”

“What’s serious?” Verlaine said around a mouthful of chocolate.

“If you’re here when I cast a prophetic spell—which I’m going to admit right now I’ve never done before—there’s a chance you’ll do more than watch me. There’s a chance the magic will … change you. Change us. It could make you my Steadfast.”

Verlaine scooted closer. “What’s a Steadfast? It sounds important.”

“It is.” Nadia had to go through it all, so there would at least be some chance Verlaine knew what she was getting into. “A Steadfast is a woman who isn’t a witch herself, but who has the ability to enhance a witch’s powers through her presence. A Steadfast doesn’t have magic of her own, but she amplifies everyone else’s magic. By that, I really mean everyone—any witch who’s near the Steadfast, whether they know about her or not—but the effect is infinitely more powerful for the witch she’s bound to.”

“Whoa.” Verlaine’s face lit up, which told Nadia she wasn’t explaining this well enough. “That’s fantastic. Beyond fantastic. Do you have, like, dozens of Steadfasts?”

“What? No. Never. You can only have one, and it’s a serious thing. A sacred thing. A witch and a Steadfast are truly bound together in the most profound way. Lots of times, it’s a witch’s sister who doesn’t have the gift, or a daughter. Someone who’s always going to be there, no matter what.”

This was crazy, taking a chance like this with someone she’d known only a couple of days. Of course, it wasn’t much of a chance. Some witches cast prophetic spells dozens of times with their closest friends, hoping to be bound as Steadfasts, without it ever occurring.

But Mom had always said, You never know. When you open yourself to prophetic magic, you open yourself to the primal forces of the universe. It’s unpredictable, and it’s dangerous, and your soul reaches out, like casting anchor in a stormy harbor—

Nadia didn’t need an anchor, though. She didn’t need Verlaine, didn’t need anyone. Well, Dad and Cole—but really that was more like they needed her.

“What does that mean, enhance your powers?” Verlaine grabbed another couple of chocolate bars.

“It means if I cast a spell when my Steadfast is nearby, that spell will be stronger. More effective. It will last longer. That person’s presence might make it possible for me to cast spells that might otherwise be beyond me at this point. I’d probably advance faster, too, if we spent enough time together.” Nadia took a deep breath. “So for me, it’s all positive. For the Steadfast, it’s not. Steadfasts can see magic in ways I can’t—in ways no one else can. Apparently that can be, well, disturbing.” Nadia sighed. “It’s probably not going to happen with you. Seriously. We just met.”

“You never know. I have really crappy luck, so if this is actually dangerous and bad, I bet I get it on the first try.” Although Verlaine had been joking, Nadia could see her expression shift as she considered the possibilities more seriously. “How long does it last? Being a Steadfast.”

“Until the witch and her Steadfast end it, or die. So hopefully a really long time. And the bond’s strongest when it’s newest; it would be really hard to break in less than a couple of years.” It might be hard even after ten. Or more. This was one of those things Mom hadn’t reviewed in full.

The one part about a Steadfast that Mom had stressed most was that person should matter to you. Deeply. The power a Steadfast gave to a witch was in direct proportion to the capacity for love and loyalty between them. It was a bond more profound than any other, as enduring as that between parents and children—