Page 39 of Extraordinary Quests for Amateur Witches

Down on the main deck, Delilah and Santiago had just finished cooking.

Soon, the table was filled with the usual spread of fluffy scrambled eggs, pork sausage, golden pancakes, and—special for that morning—flaky chocolate croissants.

Santiago put an upbeat jazz record on. While everyone loaded up their plates, Kieran took a head count.

Sebastian was missing.

Kieran froze in the middle of scooping eggs onto his plate. Is he…avoiding me?

Seeming to notice her twin’s panic, Briar cleared her throat. “Should I go grab Sebastian from upstairs?”

That’s not a bad idea. Then, at least if he’s avoiding me, Briar can act as a buffer.

Kieran gave her a quick nod while everyone else agreed, consumed more by serving themselves than anything else. Briar nodded back to Kieran before she headed up the stairs.

The whole time she was gone, Kieran felt hyperaware of the seconds ticking by, as if he were on trial and not just sitting there adding hot sauce to his eggs. Shortly after, Briar returned. Kieran immediately met her gaze, his eyes wide, trying to silently communicate his panic.

Briar cleared her throat. “He’s not hungry. Told me to save a chocolate croissant for later.”

Kieran’s stomach dropped. He is avoiding me.

“Too much to drink?” Santiago asked, unaware of the way Kieran’s expression had crumpled as if he’d been slapped across the face. Santiago shot Delilah a hard look, eyebrows cocked accusatorially.

Delilah just laughed. “Sorry, Santi. I’ll replace your wines next time we land for supplies.”

Santiago crossed his arms and humphed. “You’d better. I quite liked what you stole.”

Kieran barely picked at his food for the rest of breakfast, his head swimming.

Meanwhile, Ariel and Santiago had a map spread out in front of them, chatting about which route to take back up north to find the Iceweave Coven, since there seemed to be multiple options.

Delilah chimed in once or twice, as did Briar, but Kieran kept his mouth shut.

He just pushed his eggs around, feeling a bit like he might vomit.

“What exactly do we know about the Iceweave Coven?” Briar broke in, her voice loud enough to snap Kieran out of his thoughts. “Because I’ve never heard of them.”

“I have,” Delilah said. She gestured to an illustration of the Slicetooth Mountains at the top of the map. “Some of them would pass through Kitfield when I was a kid, and they were the talk of the village. They always dressed so extravagantly, it was hard not to talk about them.”

Kieran nodded. Worrying about Sebastian can wait for a bit.

“The Pelumbras have some association with them, just because they live relatively close to the estate. They invited us to their winter solstice celebration every year, but the only ones who went were my older cousins, in their twenties. Apparently, it’s quite a wild party.

Very…hedonistic. Magical potions that trigger hallucinations, skyclad ceremonies, dances that end only when everyone collapses—that sort of thing.

My cousins always spent months putting together their most lavish outfits for it. ”

“I’m surprised the Witches’ Council is okay with that,” Briar said.

“Oh, it’s not.” Kieran spun his fork around to point at the map.

“That’s why the coven lives on the border between Celdwyn and Mehana, to the north.

Since their land straddles the two countries and the boundary isn’t very well established, neither nation can claim them.

They’re basically their own city-state, where our laws don’t apply. ”

Briar considered that. “Color me intrigued. Though, if the fashion is such a big part of it, will they even let us in? My entire wardrobe is black pants and button-down shirts.” Her eyes flicked to Kieran. “At least you’ll be okay.”

Kieran glanced down at his clothes. “For your information, this is by far my most muted sweater vest.”

“Exactly my point.”

“Perhaps we can land and pick something up,” Ariel suggested.

“It’s going to take us twelve days or so to fly that far north—perhaps longer if I decide to take a different route to avoid the mercenaries.

We’ll have to get fuel at least once, maybe more.

I could try to fit in a stop somewhere you could get something more appropriate for the celebration. ”

Kieran nodded his agreement. “Good call. Best to give Sebastian a chance to, ah…deal with his curse with something other than seabirds as well.”

“Right—good point.” Ariel made a few marks on the map with a small pencil, nodding.

“I’ll get the ship set for this path. In the meantime, it would be great if you witchy folks could do a sweep of the ship for anything those mercenaries left behind to make sure there’s nothing they could have dropped that could track us.

I doubt they would, but after that last ambush, I’m a little paranoid. ”

“I’ll take a walk around and see if I can smell anything,” Delilah agreed. She lowered her voice: “No offense to Sebastian, but it’ll be a lot easier if he stays upstairs. That curse could cover up pretty much anything.”

“I’ll let him know,” Kieran said. He took a small bite of eggs; swallowing it felt like a feat as his stomach roiled with anxiety. “I need to talk to him anyway.”

Everyone at the table exchanged knowing eye contact. Kieran sighed. These people are impossible.

“In fact,” he said, standing up, “I should do that now. Thank you for breakfast.”

Santiago and Delilah nodded, and Delilah passed him a chocolate croissant. “Take that for Sebastian.”

Kieran nodded, squaring his shoulders. Across the table, Briar caught his eye and mouthed, Good luck.

Kieran nodded his thanks and headed upstairs.

Raising his fist to knock on Sebastian’s door was beginning to feel like a challenge on par with scaling the Slicetooths.

Kieran stood, staring at the dark wood, trying to tell himself that he was overthinking it. Maybe Sebastian really was just a bit sick. Maybe he wasn’t avoiding Kieran on purpose.

Or, Kieran’s traitorous brain offered, he regrets last night and is about to tell you that he would prefer if you just went ahead and walked off the edge of the ship.

Kieran gulped, the lump in his throat bobbing. You won’t know until you talk to him.

Finally, before his anxiety could get the better of him, Kieran rapped twice against the door before hopping back, half convinced that the door was about to grow teeth and bite him.

There was a pause before Sebastian gruffly called, “Who is it?”

“Kieran?”

“Ah.” Sebastian cleared his throat, then said, “It’s unlocked.”

Kieran’s mouth felt like sandpaper. Just ah ? Nothing else? Oh, he definitely hates me.

He reached for the handle, despite the way his heart had begun to pound, and turned it.

He pushed his way inside, stepping as softly as he could, as if he were sneaking in.

The room was dim, the curtains having been drawn to block out the sunlight.

It gave the room an appearance of twilight.

There was a stale scent in the air, as if dirty clothes had been left out.

Kieran’s eyes fell on the bed, where he discovered a tangle of blankets and sheets. It took him a moment, though, to spot Sebastian buried inside.

Just the top of his head was poking out.

Everything from the eyes down was cocooned in his fluffy dark-blue comforter.

His hair stuck up at an angle, and what little of his skin was visible looked waxy and beaded with sweat.

At the sight of Kieran, he reached up and pulled the blanket down so the rest of his face was visible and his voice unmuffled.

“I,” he announced, looking like he was on the verge of vomiting, “am never touching wine again.”

Instantly, Kieran’s muscles all relaxed at once. Oh, thank goodness, he is just super hungover.

“Oh no.” Kieran shut the door behind him and dropped the croissant off on the table before going to his side. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get you water?”

Sebastian nodded weakly. “Water would be great.”

While Kieran rushed to the bathroom to fill a cup with water, Sebastian groaned and pulled himself into a sitting position. He barely moved as Kieran returned with the water, gently passing it to him.

A hand emerged from the blanket cocoon and took the water, raising it to Sebastian’s lips. He barely got a few sips down before he stopped, once again looking green.

“I didn’t realize you’d had so much,” Kieran said, leaning on the bedside table. There was a hunk of wood on it, and a whittling knife beside it. If Kieran had to guess, it appeared Sebastian was carving it into the shape of a swan. “Honestly, I thought you had less than I did.”

“I did.” Sebastian’s head hung. “It’s just that, with my curse, if I don’t drink enough blood, my body stops functioning quite as well. Apparently, I was low enough on blood that my liver decided to just give up. ”

He suddenly had the dry heaves, and Kieran took a step back.

With uncanny speed, Sebastian managed to grab a bowl on his bedside table that he’d clearly filched from the kitchen.

Kieran looked away politely as Sebastian bowed his head and retched.

After a few more deeply unpleasant sounds, Sebastian coughed, then spit the last of what was in his mouth into the bowl.

He sniffled, then wiped his nose with the back of his head. “Kieran, I need your help.”

“Oh? S-sure. Whatever you need.”

With grim seriousness, Sebastian said, “You need to kill me.”

“Well, that seems a little dramatic for a hangover, don’t you think?” Kieran reached out, and Sebastian stared at him for a beat before he seemed to realize Kieran was offering to take the bowl. “Let me clean that up. Maybe…maybe I can catch you a loose seagull to drain.”

“Easier said than done.” Half of Sebastian’s face sank below the blankets. “I’ll…survive. Maybe.”