Page 41 of Extraordinary Quests for Amateur Witches

Over the next week, Kieran fell into a routine on the ship.

It almost felt like a return to normalcy.

Even if the ship was far from his permanent home, between this adventure and Delilah’s last spring, there was a familiarity to it that he hadn’t realized he’d missed, living in Gellingham.

He enjoyed getting to bug Ariel in the control room and help Santiago with meal prep in the kitchen.

He spent afternoons reading with Briar and Delilah in the study, Seaweed snoozing in his lap like a cat.

All in all, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having the people he cared about the most all in one place.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that he and Sebastian suddenly had plenty of opportunities to steal away whenever they desired.

While Kieran had been nervous at first about the concept of kissing Sebastian again, it turned out to be incredibly easy.

The first night after Sebastian had recovered from his terrible hangover, he’d casually asked Kieran if he’d be willing to help him with something on the observation deck after dinner.

When Kieran had arrived—half believing that there was, in fact, some task Sebastian had needed him for—Sebastian had run his fingers through Kieran’s hair before kissing him, slowly and gently.

Kieran’s breath had caught as he pressed closer to Sebastian, the feeling of his body enough to make Kieran’s heart rate skyrocket.

That gentle kiss had quickly ramped up to Kieran straddling Sebastian on the couch as he went back for more and more of his lips, feeling uncharacteristically bold.

The following week, they repeated the same thing: soft touches while passing in the halls and meaningful eye contact when they wanted to sneak away for a little privacy.

Kieran felt downright giddy about the whole thing.

Each night, he found himself with a pen in his hand, writing romantic passages that quickly turned into spells that sparked feelings of desire.

He hadn’t intended for that necessarily, but considering the way those thoughts tended to creep in as he wrote his spells, it wasn’t a surprise.

The more he wrote, the easier it became to cast. It seemed magic and words came to him easily these days.

It helped that Sebastian offered to give revisions on each new spell.

Every night, Kieran would give him a new one to read.

And every night, the two of them got too distracted to work as the warmth of Kieran’s magic filled the room, lending a silver glow to them both.

The feeling of it was overwhelming, as if Kieran might actually have a chance at calling himself a real witch.

Especially because, inevitably, after a few minutes of reading, the journal wound up on a side table each night as Sebastian fell into Kieran’s arms.

It was almost enough to help snuff out some of the crushing guilt he felt anytime he thought about what Ash might say if he knew what Kieran was doing.

But then again, as Sebastian had put it, Kieran and Ash were on a break.

Even if they did somehow work things out when this was all over, Ash couldn’t blame Kieran for stealing a few casual kisses from someone else while they were apart, right?

On the eighth day, however, fate decided to throw another curveball at the crew.

“I don’t mean to scare anyone with this,” Ariel announced at the breakfast table, “but I think you all should know: I heard on the radio that there’s a blizzard heading for us.

” Everyone immediately sat up straighter as Ariel continued: “With hurricane-force winds. Which means that we won’t be able to make the supply stop I had planned for this evening.

We’re safer flying over it instead of trying to weather it on the ground. ”

Instantly, Kieran noticed the color drain from Sebastian’s face.

“Do we have enough fuel to stay aloft another day?” Delilah asked.

Ariel nodded. “We should be fine. So long as everything goes smoothly in avoiding the storm tonight, we can stop in Yarrowport in the morning. Easy.”

Kieran, however, had been unable to take his eyes off Sebastian.

The other boy seemed to be steeling his expression, staring intently at the untouched food on his plate.

He pushed a clump of scrambled eggs to one side, a nauseated look crossing his face.

Despite his best efforts, Kieran couldn’t get a read on him as to why.

Maybe he’s afraid of storms? I guess they are hard to stab, which seems like his general method of dealing with scary things.

“But tell them the good news,” Santiago pushed as he returned from the kitchen with a jar of honey to add to his tea. He dropped into his chair. “It’s not all doom and gloom.”

“Right! Yarrowport will be our last stop before the Slicetooth Mountains and the Iceweave Coven.” Ariel nodded. “Which should get us there a day early. For once, I don’t have to force this ship to tear itself apart to race across the country.”

“Oh! That is great news.” Kieran took a sip of his coffee, which tasted faintly of toffee and hazelnuts. “With any luck, we can be in and out quickly, then focus on how to reforge the scepter and get back to Verbena.”

And figure out if I want to use that panacea on Ash or Sebastian, his brain reminded him.

He cringed.

At that moment, Sebastian stood, his breakfast plate mostly untouched. “I…need to attend to something. I’ll be up in my room if anyone needs me.”

He quickly rushed out of the room, dropped his dirty plate in the kitchen, then vanished up the stairs. As the sound of his footsteps faded, everyone at the table exchanged looks.

Briar cocked an eyebrow at Kieran. “What’s his problem?”

“No idea.” Kieran chewed his lower lip. “But…I’ll see if I can find out.”

When Kieran knocked on Sebastian’s door later, he didn’t respond.

Kieran lingered for a bit before he returned to his room and collapsed on the bed.

He picked at his fingernails. He told himself Sebastian had fallen asleep.

But as the day wore on and the clouds below the ship grew darker, swirling like a gyre of shadows and sea-foam, his worry began to spike.

Sebastian hadn’t so much as shown his face since breakfast. And with the daylight seeping away with the thick swath of clouds beneath them, it was beginning to seem more suspect.

“He just needs time, right?” Kieran asked Seaweed as she stood on her hind legs to look out the window, staring at the darkening clouds. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

The muffled squeak Seaweed let out did little to calm his racing mind.

When Sebastian didn’t show up for dinner, Kieran decided that was the final straw. First, because that meant he probably hadn’t eaten all day—which couldn’t be good for him—and more important, because if Sebastian was allowed to ask for brutal honesty from Kieran, he was allowed to ask for it back.

As soon as he was done with dinner, Kieran marched up the stairs. Normally, he didn’t consider himself confrontational, but despite himself, he was, well, worried.

He squared his shoulders, then rapped on Sebastian’s door.

“Sebastian?” Kieran called. “It’s me. Can I talk to you?”

There was a long pause. For a moment, Kieran had a sudden new fear: What if in attempting to give him privacy, Kieran had missed something, and Sebastian was in some kind of bodily danger? Maybe if he hadn’t eaten any food all day, his curse was getting worse—

“Kieran,” a gruff voice called. It sounded as if the inside of his throat must be completely dry. “Don’t open the door. Not until we land.”

“What?” Kieran wrinkled his nose. “Sebastian, what are you talking about?”

“I—” He cleared his throat, but it didn’t seem to help. “I was planning on hunting when we landed for the supply stop. As long as I got a big enough animal, I’d be fine. But now I—I don’t think it’s safe for any of you to be around me.”

A chill went up Kieran’s spine. Of course.

Sebastian hadn’t been able to drink any blood for days now.

Kieran had noticed he’d seemed a little more distracted over the last day or so, but when he’d asked about it, Sebastian played it off as a lack of sleep.

Now that Kieran thought about it, though, he should have known.

They were flying high enough that there were very few—if any—birds around, and without them to snack on, Sebastian had to be starving.

Kieran’s pulse sped up, and his hands grew clammy. Even if he wasn’t saying it out loud, he knew what Sebastian meant: He may be in control now, but if he didn’t drink soon, he’d wouldn’t be for long.

Kieran’s shoulders set. For once in his life, he didn’t question himself at all as he called through the door, “Let me in. I think I can help.”

“That’s not a good idea—”

“I don’t care.” Kieran stood firm, even as his knees started to feel a little weaker than he’d prefer. At the spike of emotion, the magic in his chest began to react, and for once he had to push it down. “Please, Sebastian. Let me help.”

There was a long pause. Kieran wondered if Sebastian was simply electing to ignore him. Then he heard footsteps on the other side of the door, so light they were almost imperceptible. A lock clicked, and the door opened, just barely enough to give Kieran room to come inside.

Sebastian waited on the other side, his body blocking the entryway.

His thick black hair hung over his eyes, lank and listless.

Heavy shadows were like bruises under his eyes.

At first, Kieran thought Sebastian was having some sort of breakout, but then he realized the lumps on his upper cheek were, in fact, the red eyes Kieran had seen the other night, beady and unlidded like an insect’s.

As Sebastian breathed through his mouth, Kieran caught sight of the matching sets of fangs on the upper and lower parts of his mouth; his fingers had turned spindly and black like a spider’s legs.