Page 2 of A Spell for Midwinter’s Heart

They’d dated for six months, and though it had been nice to have someone to cuddle up with, for Rowan it had never amounted to anything more than that. None of her past attempts at a relationship ever had.

When love was the conversation, Rowan had a way of changing the subject.

“I need to go,” she said.

“What’s new?” he said with a shrug. Ouch. “You still want me to get you a drink?”

“No, I’m out of time. I’d better head backstage and try to get a last run in. So, you know, I only mostly fail, instead of bombing completely…”

“Don’t do that,” he said with a roll of the eyes.

“Do what?”

“Snark your way into a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Tensing, she said, “I don’t do that.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Can’t believe I used to think that shit was cute.”

Rowan beat her retreat. “I’m going now, Dade.”

“Good luck!” he called after. “Stay out of your head!”

Nervous jitters rose to jangles with every step Rowan took toward the stage.

It was true she’d once been a confident public speaker, but she’d had magic to rely on at the time—spells to steady and project her voice, spells to open minds to new information, spells to make her words sticky and linger.

But she no longer dared to use spells, and all she could rely on was herself.

Images of robots scooping up plastic from rolling blue waves played overhead as she reached the main stage.

A representative from a group using drones for ocean cleanup was finishing his presentation.

Partygoers ate and drank at open tables arrayed in front of the stage, paying far more attention to their phones than the speaker.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Were they not capable of disconnecting for a few minutes to discuss the future of the world? Did they actually care about any of this, or did they just want to tag themselves on social media so they could look like they did?

The voice of the exuberant MC, an influencer with a hundred-watt smile, cut through her thoughts. “And next up, Rowan Midwinter of the SunlightCorps is gonna tell us what her group’s all about! Get on up here, Rowan!”

Already? She should have had a few more minutes!

Her legs shook as she climbed the stairs and came to stand at the microphone, repeating to herself what she needed to do.

Just read the cards and stay focused on what you’re here to do.

She squinted into the hot stage lights as she leaned toward the mic. “So, I know we’re a solar company, but I am not a solar panel. Can we take those lights down a wee bit?”

There was a ripple of chuckles as the stage lights dimmed. Members of the SunlightCorps watched from a line in the back, and Lorena shot her a double thumbs-up. Even Dade had shown, leaning against a wall, arms crossed and expression neutral.

The screen behind her shifted to an image of a low, tan apartment building sporting a set of shining silver-and-blue solar panels that kept the building running on clean energy, completely free to its tenants. Members of the SunlightCorps stood arm-in-arm with a group of community volunteers.

Rowan cleared her throat. “Behind me is just one example of the many achievements of the SunlightCorps. Our mission? ‘A light in every window, but carbon in the ground.’ We hope this presentation will convince you to help us take this to the next level, and that you’ll join us in making our communities, and the planet, healthier… ”

She hardly recognized her voice as it flowed out. Though she couldn’t help but hear every hitch and stumble, they were few and far between, and a warm sense settled in her chest.

Maybe this wouldn’t be such a disaster after all.

Midway through the second card, she stole a look at the audience, expecting to see rapt faces nodding along.

That wasn’t what she saw.

The audience was entirely disengaged—focused on phones, on food, on beautiful faces across tables. No one was listening. No one cared.

Her mind spun. She was failing to reach them. She had failed, and there was no way they were going to raise enough to expand. They’d be lucky to get enough to keep up basic operations.

It was all her fault.

Her mind spun again. With the Green New Deal dead, what was the point anyway? Even if they fundraised their asses off, it wouldn’t make a difference. None of it would. The world was hurtling toward three degrees warming, and she was powerless to stop it.

Her body flushed and her stomach churned. Her hands shook, and as she went to flip to the next card, the entire stack slipped from her grip. They scattered, and she dropped to her knees to scoop them all back up. Everyone was finally looking at the stage now, but for the entirely wrong reasons.

Anger flared in her chest. Oh, so it wasn’t worth their time to save the planet, but watching her crash and burn? That warranted attention, apparently.

Without giving herself a chance to think the better of it, she stood back up and returned to the mic. “If I’d realized making a fool of myself would get your attention, I’d have started a lot sooner. Guess the future of the planet isn’t as exciting as the latest viral trend, though, huh?”

She froze. Had that really come out of her mouth? Her hands shuffled cards in a desperate attempt to figure out where she’d left off, but they were entirely out of order, and her mind raced right by the words, leaving them blurry and indistinct.

As the pressure mounted, she could no longer ignore the thrumming in her environment. It urged her to consider that there were other ways to handle this. Old ways. Powerful ways. A network of bright threads flashed in her vision.

There are spells to make them listen. Spells to make them act.

The trembling of her body intensified, and her breathing became uneven. The churning bile in her stomach threatened to spill all the way out. She clamped her teeth onto her bottom lip and shook her head.

I won’t do it. I refuse.

The thrumming cut out. The world dimmed. Her awareness returned to the room, and to the terrible, awkward hush that had fallen over the crowd. How long had she been standing there waging silent war with her instincts?

Her voice was small as she leaned back into the microphone.

“I’m sorry.”

As she descended the stairs two at a time, she took in Lorena’s expression of stunned disappointment and Dade’s knowing shake of the head, and shame crashed over her in a wave.

I did it again. I let everyone down.