Page 69 of Scars Like Wings
I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I said, “But you are one of the most powerful witches I know?—”
“I am one of the most powerful witches in existence, yes, according to all of my professors, Mom, and Grandmother.” She winked.
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “I thought the most powerful witches had a connection to their ancestors.”
“I did, too. My professors all say the same thing. They believe I’m just a natural prodigy, but I know there’s more to it. There has to be.”
“What do you think it is?” Simone asked.
Maisie shook her head. “Honestly, I have no clue. My father was like most deadbeats. I never knew him. I’ve never met the bastard. I don’t even know his first name. My mother and grandmotherrefuseto talk about him. They are super weak witches, if I can be honest—that isn’t the insult it sounds like, I promise—but they worry about giving him their energy and power by even talking about him. But to finish my dissertation, I had to learn everything I could. I couldn’t care less about the dickwad, but my whole degree depends on learning about where my magic could come from, so I asked them point blank about him during my trip. They admitted my powerful magic came from my father and that he’s insanely strong. The magic on my mother’s side had been weakening for generations with the most substantial being my great-great-great grandmother. We don’t even know what type of witches we are because the power is too thin. But that’s all they said. They shut down after that. He left me nothing. No notes. No letters. Definitely no grimoire from him, but my mom’s side doesn’t have one either since their magic has been dying for so long. It’s beyond infuriating.
So, here I am: A liar to my professors who think I’m so great and powerful. I’m a witch with no history. I’m a freak of my own kind.”
Maisie sniffled, tears making her eyes glisten. I knew they were more tears of frustration than sadness.
Simone held out her hand. “Well, you are among friends.”
I nodded and held out my hand, too. I knew exactly how she was feeling, what Maisie was going through. I had no idea about my own mother and father. I had so few things from my mother, and now, I remembered even less of her. I only have a vague idea of what her laugh and voice sounded like. I don’t even truly remember what she looked like or her mannerisms. But I didn’t have anything from before me. I didn’t know anything about her life in college, about her childhood, about who she once was. I mean, I was a human whose uncle was a griffin-shifter and whose best friends were a witch and a mermaid princess. Add to it all this book that only I could open, my hair growing in pink, and my scars that my crush saw as tattoos, it was easy to see that we really were all freaks here.
But that was okay.
Maisie smiled at us. She took our hands and squeezed.
“So. The supernet was a bust, and I’m a faulty witch without a grimoire.”
“You are not a faulty witch!” Simone and I cried out at the same time.
Maisie laughed. “Okay, okay! But where do we go from here? Where else can we find information on runes that the supernatural internet couldn’t provide?”
Simone and I made eye contact at the same time with smiles wide. “The Archive!”
I palmed my forehead. “Gods, why didn’t I think of this before?! They have all sorts of books on runes and witchcraft that make the supernet look like a kindergarten library.”
“Oh, my goddess, whydidn’tyou think of this before?” Maisie raised her eyebrow at me.
“It’s been a long day to be fair.” I shook my head. “I’m not at one-hundred percent.”
I pulled out my phone to check the time. It was late in the evening, a little past nine. Simone and Maisie made plans to come to work with me when I go in on Monday, the day after tomorrow. I was beyond excited, and I almost suggested going in right then since the Archive was open twenty-four hours. But I had a strict personal rule—thanks to my therapist and her encouragement of healthy boundaries—against going into work when I wasn’t scheduled for a shift. Plus, my weekend replacements were an obnoxious banshee whose voice was so annoying I wanted to literally glue her wide mouth shut, and the owl-shifter Night Manager this shift was a bitch who thought he was the smartest one in the room. They were to be avoided as much as possible.
With plans arranged, Maze reached for another cookie and said between bites. “Enough of this sad and mystery shit! This is supposed to be a fun adult sleepover, not a middle school pajama party or Nancy Drew Club.”
“Uh, I don’t know about you and the sleepoversyou’vebeen to without us, but sad shit is a mandatory part of a sleepover and something always happens that carries over long past the sleepover.”
“Simone’s right,” I nodded, grabbing another cookie myself. “It’s in the sacred slumber party book of laws.”
Maisie chuckled, shaking her head. “In that case, let’s get some booze then and catch up on some trashy TV.”
“Here, here!” Simone and I cheered as Maisie turned on the TV toANTM. It felt like we were back on our usual sleepover shit as soon as it loaded, just like we were teenagers during easier times when we were only stressed about crushes, finishing a project in time, and reading before the next book in a series or its movie adaption came out.
I glanced at the book sitting beside me, the models and judges the only light in the room for me to see. I could still easilymake out those golden lines, the colorful gems, and the lapis lazuli lock. I could almostfeelit more than see it.
Despite all the layers of blankets, the soft humming warmth still present in my necklace, and my sweatsuit, a chill shivered through me.
Desert Dunes
Outside the Midnight Railway’s Everlore University Gate, the day was only starting to open her eyes like she had snoozed her alarm for the third time. The sky was a beautiful shade of periwinkle blue with the sun still close to the horizon. A fog had settled over the Everlore Commons in misty layers like sheets coming down onto a bed being made. Through it, I could see the morning dew twinkling like daytime stars. The air tasted crisp and new. I filled my lungs with it, feeling energized.
This is one of the many things I loved about mornings like this. There were so few people on my commute. Even in the Commons, there weren’t any students or faculty. The world was so quiet, peaceful, and full of opportunities. You could feel the carpe diem in the air. I wasn’t even a morning person, but the joy of it just felt contagious.