Spellbound

Aradia slowly turned the handle of her bedroom door, letting it swing open without a sound. She slipped into the hallway, carefully avoiding the creaky spot just to the right. Her Aunt Jade had the ears of a nymph. Literally. 

The hallway smelled musty and damp. The summer had been unbearably hot and humid, leaving everything sticky and speckled with mold. Not that her aunt minded. She’d flitted around their new house, gleefully collecting fungus in jars before scrubbing the rest away. And then she had the audacity to wonder why Aradia wasn’t interested in alchemy.

Rolling her eyes, Aradia refocused on her escape. She crept past her aunt and uncle’s bedroom, pausing to peek inside. Uncle George was curled up with Aunt Jade, both fast asleep. Good. Neither of them had heard her.

Barefoot, she hurried the last few steps to the stairs, clutching her heels in one hand. Back at their old house, she’d placed a silencing charm on the stairs to slip down unnoticed, but she hadn’t gotten around to doing it here yet. Instead, she swung a leg over the banister and slid down into the darkness.

When she landed, she swore under her breath. The front door gleamed with the telltale glow of a pale blue security spell. Of course. Her aunt wasn’t careless.

Jinxes likely covered every window, too. Testing her theory, Aradia pressed a hand to the glass pane beside the door. A faint hum of magic tickled her fingertips, then wrapped around her palm. Yep. Definitely jinxed.

“Now what?” she whispered, tapping the heels against her thigh. Maybe the back door?

She padded through the foyer and into the living room, heading toward the kitchen. The house’s decor was, in a word, atrocious. The living room walls were a deep, oppressive purple, trimmed in stark white. The shaggy brown carpet reeked of something long dead and reminded her of the cat they’d once had.

Whatever her aunt and uncle saw in this place was beyond her. Every time the subject of redecorating came up, Uncle George would ramble about painting, charming the carpet, how Aunt Jade had already picked wallpaper. Yet the summer had passed with him lounging in the backyard or tinkering in the basement. Not one trip to the hardware store.

The kitchen was somehow worse. The walls were a putrid pea green, the floor a grid of grimy white tile. But something else caught Aradia’s attention. The back door glowed with the same security charm as the front, but the window above the sink was cracked open.

A grin spread across her face. Whoever left it open had made a crucial mistake. Jinxes triggered when forced, but an open window was a weak point.

Wasting no time, she scrambled onto the counter, pushing the window the rest of the way open. Carefully, she lifted the screen and set it aside before slithering through, landing in a patch of magnolias.

She crouched low, slipping through Aunt Jade’s herb garden toward the back gate. Uncle George had wasted no time installing a towering fence, cementing their reputation as antisocial weirdos. Which, honestly, wasn’t far from the truth. Humans discovering their secret had been the reason they fled Brentwood in the first place.

Aradia’s family came from a long line of witches. Not the wart-covered, cauldron-stirring kind, but modern witches. Aunt Jade was an alchemist who flitted around in colorful scarves and billowy pants, resembling an overgrown bird. Uncle George was an enchanter who spent his days in his basement study.

And Aradia? She was still figuring that out. She liked to fly. Fire magic was fun. But beyond that? Who knows.

In Brentwood, their world hadn’t been entirely hidden. Other witch families lived nearby, and beneath the local deli, run by an elderly warlock, was a network of hidden shops. Witches stuck together, intermarrying to preserve their fae-infused bloodlines. Too much human blood weakened the magic, and those who left covens for human partners were often shunned.

Of course, secrets didn’t always stay secret. Every witch over twelve could cast a memory charm, making a talking frog seem like nothing more than a fluttering leaf. But sometimes, even magic couldn’t fix everything. Sometimes, moving was the only option.

And that was how they ended up in Chipman Springs.

Aradia shook off the thought. There were times she wished her aunt had wiped her memory, too. But that wasn’t why she was out tonight.

She had spent the entire summer trapped in a suffocating bubble, and now, with her feet finally on the pavement, she let out a relieved sigh. Aunt Jade and Uncle George could be antisocial all they wanted, but she was determined to meet other teenagers before school started next week.

Sliding on her heels, she reached into her purse and pulled out the flyer.

Tonight, she was going to have some fun.

SUMMER BAND BLOWOUT

Derelict Innocents

Johnny Doctor & the Viruses

The Blackout Girls

August 30th Saturday Night

at the VAC, 9 PM

$10 admission

Aradia had found the flyer hanging in the grocery store and swiped it while her aunt wasn’t looking. There had to be at least one teenager there, right? Someone she could say hi to so she wouldn’t be a complete outcast come September.

A quick Google search had told her that the VAC, or Vermont Art Center, was about half a mile away, tucked into an old paper mill by the river. She flipped the flyer over, double-checking the directions she’d scribbled on the back, then started walking, hoping for the millionth time that she hadn’t overdressed. She didn’t want to show up looking like a slob, especially not when she was trying to make a good first impression.

Witches were notorious for being short. At four feet eleven inches, Aradia hated her height. The only saving grace was her long legs, which (hopefully) made her look taller. Tonight, they were wrapped in a pleated skirt that hit just below her knees. Since this was a band concert, she’d gone for a black top embroidered with roses along the collar. Her brown hair had exploded into a frizzy mess from the humidity, so she’d slicked it back into a ponytail with way too much mousse.

She wore minimal jewelry save for a pendant that once belonged to her mother. It was a ruby shaped like a tear drop and hanging from a silver chain.

The outfit looked flattering, but her favorite heels were already making her feet ache. Maybe flats would’ve been the smarter choice for the walk.

Her directions told her to turn right. As she did, the sidewalk grew more crowded, cars packing the edges of the street as people converged on the VAC. The mill itself had seen better days. Chipped brick, a section that looked half-burned from some long-forgotten fire, ivy creeping over the ruined facade, blending it into the surrounding countryside. Most of the tall factory windows were boarded up, though some remained open, their foggy light trying in vain to pierce the darkness.

An old service exit, propped open with a brick, led inside, where a makeshift ticket table had been set up. Aradia dug out her ten dollars and stepped in.

The girls behind the table looked like college students. Their matching jeans and band t-shirts made Aradia instantly aware that she had, in fact, overdressed. Neither girl acknowledged her beyond taking her money and handing her a ticket stub before resuming their conversation.

Aradia hesitated, holding the stub, unsure which way to go. There were no signs pointing to the theater, just a few doors and a stairwell leading down.

“Excuse me, but…”

Laughter behind her cut her off.

Three boys strode in, instantly drawing the college girls’ attention. They were all tall and gangly, and Aradia felt herself shrinking in their presence. The one on the left leaned casually on the table, flashing a grin. His mop of black hair teetered somewhere between artfully messy and just plain scruffy.

“Hey, Merry,” Jack coaxed in a sweet tone.

The girl on the right, with a sweater tied around her waist, raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “No, Jack. Whatever it is, no.”

“You haven’t even heard me out,” Jack argued.

Merry pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “Fine. Amuse me. What do you want?” The little smirk at the corner of her lips gave away that she wasn’t really mad.

“Can we get in for free?” he asked.

The red-headed boy behind him put on exaggerated puppy dog eyes for good measure.

“No,” Merry said flatly, as if she had been expecting this.

“But…” the other boy behind Jack started. He was the quietest of the three, dressed in a vintage leather jacket that looked well-worn.

“Nope. Ten dollars. Same as everyone else.” Merry grinned in triumph while her friend giggled beside her.

Jack groaned. “But we don’t have any money! And I promised Shawn I’d see him play. Can’t we just say we’re in the band and sneak in through the back?”

“Ten dollars,” Merry repeated, arms still crossed. “If you’re so broke, why didn’t you get a summer job?”

“I do have a job,” Jack said, his patience fraying.

Aradia, who had been quietly observing, shifted on her feet. She was beginning to feel like an intruder in the conversation and debated whether to slip away and find her own way inside.

“Mowing Mrs. Schwitz’s lawn isn’t a real job,” Merry shot back. “I mean, like working at the gas station or something.”

Jack huffed. “Well, can’t you just spot me? I’ll pay you back.”

He glanced around and suddenly locked onto Aradia. “She can vouch for me,” he announced, pointing straight at her.

Aradia had just been inching toward the right-side door when she froze. Her face turned a lovely shade of cherry red as every set of eyes in the room snapped toward her. She glared at Jack for dragging her into this, but he just kept smiling, unbothered. She noticed then that his grin was a little crooked, and he had a single dimple on the left side.

“Uh…” Aradia floundered on what to say. Jack’s continued stare caused her mind to go blank. This was her chance, right? Wasn’t she supposed to be making friends, having fun and enjoying freedom from all the problems at home?

“Sure,” she finally said, barely above a whisper.

The second the word left her lips, she cringed internally. Of all the things she could’ve said, something witty, something memorable, and she landed on sure. Perfect. And her face was still burning. Wonderful.

Jack clapped his hands together. “See? I’m right,” he declared, as if Aradia’s half-hearted endorsement had sealed the deal.

Merry sighed, exchanging a glance with her friend, who rolled her eyes. “You’re not gonna leave until we say yes, are you?” her friend groaned.

The redhead behind Jack grinned and shook his head.

“Ugh. Fine.” Merry finally relented, tossing three tickets at them. “But don’t say I never did anything for my little brother.”

“Thanks, Mare Bear,” Jack beamed, snatching up his ticket. “I swear I’ll pay you back.”

“Just go before I change my mind,” Merry warned, pointing toward the door beside the table.

The three boys hurried through, Jack stopping just long enough to turn to Aradia and say, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Aradia returned bashfully.

The two girls at the table turned their attention to her, and she awkwardly waved before stumbling after the boys, hastily following them down to the basement.