For the Head Witch, even an event as mundane as a flower contest could turn into a life-or-death situation. Not because of witchy assassins or deadly magical monsters but because nothing drew out my family’s rivalries quite like a good old-fashioned competition, even one that didn’t involve magic at all.
That didn’t mean it was harmless, of course. Flowers were serious business.
Tansy, my squirrel familiar, hopped onto my shoulder to get a better view as my mother faced off against her younger sister, blocking Aunt Shannon from accessing a stack of the boxes that covered the damp grass of the field. They both already had their wands out, which only increased my concern that the pair would start an actual duel over who got to set the stage for the flower contest at the town’s annual midsummer festival.
Just another day in the life of a reluctant Head Witch.
“Put your wand down and step away from there at once,” Mum ordered. Unlike me, she had the sort of booming voice that commanded authority and made me want to take a step back even when I wasn’t on the receiving end. “I’m perfectly capable of putting up a tent by myself, and I’ll thank you not to interfere.”
“I simply thought you might want a hand,” my aunt said in innocent tones. “This is a large undertaking, after all.”
I didn’t buy her feigned concern for an instant. My aunt rarely offered to help unless she thought she had something to gain. While she and my mother were almost identical in looks, tall and lean with blond hair—though my mother’s was loose and flowing where her sister’s was tied back below a pointed hat—the similarities ended there. Aside from their mutual desire to win, they couldn’t have been more different in their approaches.
“It’s the same as it is every year.” Mum gave a flick of her wand, and one of the cardboard boxes flew open. Red fabric swirled out while wooden pegs flew into place, and in no time at all, a large tent covered a sizeable portion of the field designated as the site of the summer carnival.
“Wouldn’t it save time if I helped?” Undeterred, Aunt Shannon made for a nearby pile of unopened boxes.
“If you want to help, I’m sure the shifters would be grateful for your assistance in setting up the snack tables,” Mum said. “I’ll handle this myself.”
Aunt Shannon scowled, but Mum ignored her. With another flick of her wand, colourful banners unfurled and draped over the outside of the tent. The flower contest had once been a modest annual event held at the town hall, but in typical Wildwood fashion, my family had decided to make it into a massive fete that drew attention from every other magical town in the region. As a result, most people who attended the carnival wouldn’t even care about the results of the flower contest. Market stalls filled the field, the local werewolf pack had set up vans to sell freshly baked goods, and there was a play area for the children, complete with a set of model unicorns to ride on.
Every year, the theme was slightly different—on one memorable occasion, someone had even set up a miniature ghost train that would run through part of the forest in the evenings—and since this was the first time in months Wildwood Heath would open its doors to the rest of the magical world, I had no doubt Mum had more surprises in the works. Pity the sour look on Aunt Shannon’s face was enough to send even the most enthusiastic carnival-goer fleeing in the opposite direction.
“What is it?” Mum finished draping flower-patterned curtains over the tent’s entryway and spied her sister still lurking nearby. “If you want to discuss the timing of the contest, take it up with the rest of the council, not me.”
That’s still bothering her? The subject of which day to host the contest had occupied the past three coven meetings, to the extent that I’d had to put my foot down and remind them that we had other concerns to discuss as well, such as security. Personally, I didn’t object to getting a free day off in the middle of the workweek, even if I had to spend it watching my mother win yet another prize for her admittedly spectacular collection of roses. Though I had to wonder why she’d dragged me out here on a Saturday morning to help set up the carnival but seemed to have no intention of letting me actually do anything. I’d much rather have slept in than watch her bicker with my aunt.
“Don’t we have more important concerns?” Aunt Shannon enquired. “If you ask me, we ought to have devoted more of our focus to matters of security. You had a narrow escape from a dangerous killer recently, didn’t you?”
Mum narrowed her eyes at her sister. “That’s irrelevant. We weren’t the targets.”
Not that time, I wanted to add, but I didn’t need to give my aunt any more fuel for her argument, especially as she’d stolen the point from my own irritable comments at yesterday’s coven meeting to begin with. I didn’t for a minute believe she was genuinely concerned for anyone’s safety except for her own, especially as my fellow Head Witches had been the targets of the serial killer in question. I’d likely been spared because I hadn’t made quite as many enemies as some, but it had been yet another an unwelcome reminder of how many people saw the sceptre I carried as a challenge.
“I disagree,” said Aunt Shannon. “We wouldn’t want to lose another Head Witch in such a short space of time, would we?”
From her perch on my shoulder, Tansy made a sceptical noise. “As if she wouldn’t have been first in line to snatch the sceptre.”
“Don’t give her ideas,” I said in an undertone. “I bet she was disappointed when she found out I survived.”
My aunt hadn’t even been invited to the meeting, but the entire magical world was aware of my involvement thanks to the press, which had decided to plaster my face all over every article about the Head Witch meeting that had ended in two deaths. Hardly fair if you asked me.
Aunt Shannon evidently disagreed—unless she was scrambling for an excuse to push my mother out of organising the carnival so she could rearrange the event according to her own whims, which was entirely possible.
“The coven is more than prepared for any future threats,” Mum informed her sister. “Now, kindly get out from under my feet.”
“I think there’s plenty of room for all of us.” Aunt Shannon turned her back and sauntered away.
Honestly. A summer carnival was supposed to be a bit of light relief for everyone, but Aunt Shannon was never able to resist the opportunity to undermine her sister’s authority as head of the coven.
When my aunt disappeared into the tent, Mum didn’t hesitate for an instant before following her. Sensing danger, I followed and entered the tent in time to see my aunt conjure up a large wooden stage with a flick of her wand.
“Stop that at once!” Mum commanded. “I won’t have you sabotaging all my hard work.”
“I’m not sabotaging anything,” said Aunt Shannon. “I thought we could use somewhere for the judges to stand—and the winners, of course, too.”
“Where exactly did you get that stage?” Mum asked. “It looks like the one from the town hall.”
“They won’t miss it for a couple of days, will they?”
“Yes, they certainly will.” Mum raised her wand. “If you don’t put it back, I’ll do it myself.”
“This is unnecessary,” said Aunt Shannon. “Really, Roxanne, I didn’t realise you were so insecure about your own status.”
“Insecure?” Mum echoed. “The mayor will hardly appreciate us stealing his property from underneath his nose.”
“I seem to remember that it technically counts as our coven’s property.”
Tansy’s fluffy tail tickled my ear. “Let’s leave them to it. It’s safer that way.”
“I’m not so sure.” The tent was flimsy enough that one miscast spell might set it on fire, and my mother and aunt were a danger to one another unless they were as far from each other as possible. Like, on opposite sides of town.
Mum pointed her wand at the stage, which vanished in a flash. “If you want to bring a stage, you can buy your own.”
“Or I can ask the mayor myself. I’m sure he’ll understand.” In another flick of Aunt Shannon’s wand, the stage reappeared in the same place as before. Oh boy.
“Mum, Aunt Shannon, cut that out,” I said, but they both ignored me.
With a flourish, they pointed their wands directly at each other instead of at the stage.
“Fight, fight!” Tansy reared up on my shoulder in excitement.
“Hey!” Striding forward, I inserted myself between Mum and Aunt Shannon with my sceptre at the ready. I didn’t plan to use it, but it lessened my chances of being turned into a walnut. “This is a ridiculous reason to start a public duel. There’s no reason you can’t send the stage back and then ask the mayor for permission to borrow it, is there?”
“Head Witch, I’d kindly ask you to stay out of this,” said Mum.
“It’s none of your business,” added Aunt Shannon.
“It’s my business if you two blow each other up,” I informed her. “Which is possible, given that there’s a massive box of fireworks right outside this tent. Besides, I bet everyone else in the field can hear every word of your bickering.”
Not necessarily true, but it was strange to be the one lecturing my mother and not the other way around. While I hadn’t got into trouble for starting a fight since my days at the local witch academy, Mum was forever reminding me of how every one of my actions reflected on the coven and on Wildwood Heath as a whole, whether I liked it or not.
“What is going on?” The voice came from the tent opening, and my brother, Ramsey, stuck his head inside. Naturally, I was the first target of his disapproving stare, though I lowered my sceptre and did my best to project an air of Don’t look at me.
Mum and Aunt Shannon stepped away from one another while my brother ducked into the tent properly, as impeccably dressed as usual with his blond hair combed flat against his head. His hedgehog familiar, Prickles, sat on his shoulder, a stern expression on his little face that mirrored his owner’s.
“There you are, Ramsey,” said Mum. “Your aunt and I were having a discussion about the merits of bringing a stage into the tent for the judges to use.”
“I didn’t know you needed your wands for that.” He directed that comment towards Aunt Shannon as if he’d guessed immediately who the culprit had been.
“Your aunt and I had a mild disagreement over whether it would be apt to ask the mayor for permission before borrowing his property.” Mum flicked her wand in a graceful motion that once again banished the stage from sight. “Or if it would be more appropriate to find our own.”
“The latter, I would hope.” Ramsey eyed the spot where the stage had been.
“They were fighting,” Tansy said unnecessarily. “Another minute, and the tent would have blown sky-high.”
“Don’t be absurd.” Aunt Shannon put her wand away and strode towards the tent opening. “I will speak to the mayor myself if it truly concerns you so much.”
As she departed, Mum faced my older brother. It surprised me a little to see him here; as the head of Wildwood Heath’s small police force, he surely had more important things to do with his time than to break up duels between family members who ought to know better.
“To be clear, she’s acting without my approval,” Mum told him. “Whether the mayor says yes or not.”
“I thought as much,” Ramsey said.
“Is it not worth letting her have this one?” I asked. “It’s not a bad idea to have a stage set up for the judges rather than everyone standing on the floor.”
Mum levelled a glare at me. “This isn’t an isolated incident. Give her any leverage, and she’ll push for more.”
“Is there a way you can reach a compromise with her?”
“No,” she said bluntly as if I’d suggested taking up skydiving. “If I give her a twig, she’ll take the whole broomstick.”
Honestly. She’d been more willing to negotiate when we’d both thought my aunt had tried to have me assassinated.
“I don’t disagree, but it’s not like you’re letting her take over anything important, like hosting other Head Witches…” When her nostrils flared in warning, I added, “You can always tell the other coven members and make it sound as if getting a stage was your idea, not hers.”
“And how exactly do you propose I do that?” she enquired.
“People will believe you, won’t they?” While I was Head Witch, Mum was still the leader of our coven, and my aunt had a death wish if she thought my mother would lie down and let her undermine her authority. “The rest of the council won’t be any the wiser. I can tell them if you like.”
Ramsey lifted a brow. “Robin, are you offering to go back to work on a Saturday?”
“What do you think I’m doing right now?” I frowned at him. “And no, I’m not. I have other plans this afternoon. I was just making a suggestion.”
“I can guarantee she’ll find a way to tell the entire coven herself by tomorrow,” said Mum. “I realise you think this is a trivial matter, Robin, but this is the first time we’ve opened up the town to the public since the unfortunate incident a few weeks ago.”
As if I could forget it. The incident in question had left one person dead, another hospitalised, and the leader of our main rival coven in jail for attempted murder and the use of illegal magic in an attempt to undermine our coven’s authority. Not to mention the authority of the Head Witches as a whole. After Aunt Shannon had turned out not to be involved in that debacle, I thought the two of them had turned a corner, but apparently not.
“It’s certainly not trivial,” said Ramsey. “With that being said, security is going to be tight throughout the event, and I doubt your sister will want to ruin the coven’s reputation in front of outsiders. She won’t try anything too drastic, I’m sure.”
“She certainly won’t.” Leaving the spot where the stage had been, Mum made for the tent’s opening. “I’ll tell the rest of the council myself. I need to stop at the house and have a word with Piper.”
She ducked outside, and my brother and I left the tent a moment later.
“What’re you doing out here, anyway?” I asked Ramsey. “Not dropping in to see Dad?”
“No,” he said stiffly.
That figured. Our dad’s cottage was only a short distance away from the field, but Ramsey had been much slower to forgive Dad for our parents’ separation when we were kids. Never mind that Dad had drawn the short straw since he hadn’t had Mum’s connections or family reputation to shield himself from the press, and the fact that he’d since remarried a shifter was just another strike against him.
Personally, I thought Jessica and her two kids were awesome and that Ramsey was missing out by refusing to speak to them, but I’d lost that battle enough times already, and it wasn’t worth the energy of revisiting the subject yet again. Ramsey would have to make the decision on his own.
“Then what?” I fell into step with him, and we walked past stacks of boxes and half-assembled stalls and tents.
As a warm breeze ruffled the trees around us, he irritably tried to flatten his blond curls with one hand. “I’m here to check up on the security measures, as I said. My officers are setting wards to detect any hostile magic in the area.”
Sure enough, I spotted several other uniformed officers near the woodland path. The witches and wizards among their number held wands in their hands—more of the latter than the former, because the majority of the town’s witches worked for the coven, not the police.
“Did you bring every single officer over here?” I asked. “Isn’t there anyone left at the police station?”
“They can manage without us for an hour, can’t they?”
If you asked me, that was just asking for trouble, but I knew better than to think my word held any weight. Mum had already left the field and headed down the trail that led through the woods towards home, so I parted ways with my brother and followed.
My mother was quick on her feet when she wanted to be; I saw no signs of her as Tansy and I walked home—or rather, to the house that I now found myself reluctantly living in for the first time since I’d left home at eighteen. At three stories tall and equally wide, the house was entirely too big for three people to live in, but my family never did things by half measures.
I entered via the back gate and made my way through the vast garden while Tansy ran to the bird feeder to harass the local pigeons and blackbirds. After passing several rows of neat flower beds, I found Piper carefully pruning Mum’s prize-winning roses. Her long black hair was tied back, and mud stained her pale hands to the elbows.
“Back already?” she asked. “Is the contest tent already set up?”
“Not entirely,” I said. “My aunt decided to step in and ‘borrow’ the stage from the town hall without asking the mayor.”
“She didn’t, did she?” Piper snorted. “There’s nothing she won’t do for attention, is there?”
“Or to get under Mum’s skin. The annoying thing is that it worked.”
“They didn’t start fighting, did they?”
“Almost,” I said. “Ramsey showed up before things got too heated.”
“Lucky.” She clipped another rose. “She has me putting protective spells on the garden every night to stop your aunt from getting in. Are you sure she’s not a little paranoid?”
“It’s not unwarranted,” I said. “Imagine the furore if her flowers ended up damaged and Aunt Shannon won the contest instead! We’d never hear the end of it.”
“I guess not, but all the security around the carnival is supposed to be directed more at threats from outside town, not on the inside, right?”
“Pretty much.”
We couldn’t close ourselves off from the rest of the magical world forever, but the unfortunate truth was that entirely too many people wanted me removed from my position as Head Witch. While we’d taken out one major obstacle when we’d jailed Tiffany Henbane, other potential threats remained, such as the other regions’ witches who’d lost the chance to become Head Witch when I’d taken the title. My long absence from home had left me with little chance to prepare for my new position, and while I was learning as fast as humanly possible, a new complication seemed to arise every day.
For instance, I’d discovered another potential collection of enemies whose sole aim was to bring down the Head Witches as a collective. The fact that I’d been chosen by the sceptre against my will didn’t seem to matter to those people either.
The glass doors at the back of the house opened, and Mum emerged into the garden. “Robin, I thought you were going to speak to the rest of the council.”
“I never said that.” Hadn’t I told her I had plans?
“I’m sure your lunch date with that Harvey can wait for another time.”
“It’s not a lunch date. I’m meeting Dad for coffee.”
My words predictably slammed a lid on her comments. “I see. In that case, I will contact them myself.”
When she about-faced and re-entered the house, Piper and I exchanged raised eyebrows. Bringing up my dad was the one surefire way to win an argument with Mum, and while I didn’t technically need to head to the café for another hour or so, calling every council member would take much longer than that.
Being able to see my dad was one of the few perks of being stuck in my childhood home again, though I didn’t get to visit him as often as I’d have liked. The other perk was Harvey, my former crush, though our relationship was moving slower than I’d have preferred thanks to our busy schedules. We’d gone out to dinner last night, but I’d arrived back at the house to the unwelcome news that I’d be expected to help at the carnival today. I drew the line at skipping out on spending some quality time with the one family member who didn’t expect anything from me, though.
Well, two family members, since my cousin Rowan worked at the same coffee shop where I’d be meeting Dad. She’d settled into her new position well after the upheaval of being estranged from her close family, though being away from Aunt Shannon, her mother, could only have been an improvement. That didn’t mean my aunt had forgiven her for leaving the coven, however.
Aunt Shannon carried grudges like nobody’s business, and I had little doubt that we hadn’t heard the end of her argument with Mum yet.
