Wild is the Witch (2)
“I am?”
“Yes. You don’t bear any responsibility for what happened that night. We will file our verdict with the state this afternoon. Seeing as Mr. Newport’s family declined to press charges against you, the court will accept our verdict as final.”
Iris breathed out. The council was being too lenient. Iris had known something had been going on with her best friend, could feel in her bones she’d been planning something that Iris would never approve of. Iris should have stayed awake, should have been there to stop it.
But instead, she’d gone to sleep, and Alex Newport had burned.
“Thank you,” Iris managed to say.
She wanted to move, to run to her parents and be taken home, but she stayed where she was, watching Ana and the rest of the council leave. Amy’s older sister was last to stand, staring at the space Iris occupied but not truly seeing her. If only Amy’s verdict had been as kind.
Free to go.
A light rain began to fall as Iris reached for her mother and clutched her as tight as she could. But her father held back. There was an inexplicable sadness in his eyes that didn’t make sense given the verdict she’d received.
When they turned to leave, a gust of wind carried a single feather right past Iris, dropping it directly in front of her. She bent to pick it up and held onto the dark-brown feather dappled with white the whole way home.
One
Two years later
The owl is watching me again. Most owls have vibrant eyes the color of fire, reds and yellows and oranges, but not the northern spotted owl. The northern spotted owl has eyes dark as pitch, and while he’s supposedly nocturnal, he knows where I am day and night.
He took an interest in me as soon as we brought him into our wildlife refuge. Mom says it’s a sign of good things to come—northern spotted owls are sacred to witches, after all.
But I can’t help the way a chill runs down my spine when I feel his eyes on me, as if he’s a harbinger instead.
He sits on the branch of an old fir tree, and we stare at each other for several moments. I finally turn away when my unease finds its way to my stomach. A wet nose collides with my fingertips, and I look down at Winter. She has been my loyal protector since Mom and I moved here two years ago, and she watches the owl with wary eyes.
“That wolf would die for you,” Pike says from behind me. He says it as if it’s an accusation, as if I charmed Winter into loving me, and I turn and fake a smile.
Pike Alder doesn’t know what I am, and even if he did, I would never use magic to force affection.
Winter loves me because she can sense in her bones that I am worthy of her trust.
“I know.” I pet Winter on the top of her head, and her eyes close. I would die for her, too, even though she would never allow it.
Pike frowns, the same frown that tightens his jaw and pulls at his lips whenever there’s something he doesn’t fully understand. I can feel him trying to figure me out, studying me through the lenses of his tortoise shell glasses, so I speak to halt his thoughts.
“Is there something you wanted?”
He cocks his head to the side, and I know I’m going to hate whatever it is he’s about to say. “I just thought you’d like to know that I was once again rated higher than you on our feedback forms.” He says it casually, but his chest inflates as he speaks.
I try to keep my expression neutral and hope Pike can’t see the heat rising up my neck. I’ve worked hard to get comfortable speaking in front of the groups that tour our refuge, but it comes naturally to Pike. And as much as I hate to admit it, he’s good at it. Great, even.
And he knows it.
“Congratulations,” I say, keeping my voice free of the embarrassment I feel.
I give Winter a final scratch before stepping around Pike and heading back to the visitor’s office. It’s overcast out, a heavy blanket of gray covering the trees, the air dense with the promise of rain. I follow the trail through the forest of Sitka spruces, brown cones littering the path and crunching underneath me.
“I can sit in on your next tour and give you pointers,” Pike says, falling in step beside me. “You know, take notes, speak up when you get something wrong, give you feedback after. Spring break is next week, so I have the time.”
“How generous of you,” I say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Is it really spring break already?”
“Yep. An entire week of eight-hour days together.”
“Great.”
“You know you love it when I’m here.”
“Interesting word choice,” I say, turning on the outdoor faucet and rinsing the mud from my boots. Pike does the same, then follows me into the small wooden building that serves as our office. It somehow still smells of the pine it was built from, and the wood floor groans when I enter.
“Come on, Iris, you’d be bored if it weren’t for me. Besides, a little friendly competition is good for you—you’d hate for anyone to think you didn’t actually earn your job here.” He winks at me then and heads into the back office before I can respond.
Pike gives me a hard time because it’s my mother’s nonprofit, but he knows I’m better with the animals than anyone else. He’s in school to become an ornithologist, dedicating his entire life to the study of birds. But his textbooks and binoculars are nothing compared to my magic.