Page 32

JULIUS

My simmer pot boils over, causing the flame under it to hiss and pop at me. I blink down into the water, unmoving, as cranberries, orange peels, and little bits of sage float to the surface.

I’m doing this because I do it every day, but it doesn’t feel right. Nothing has felt right since Atlas left. The young gargoyle may have been loud, annoying, a bit of a mess, and afraid of witches, but he was my nest-mate, a friend and companion.

I let him down. I didn’t help him prepare for what life was going to be like.

How could I have? I didn’t know Charlotte was coming to us. No one knew it was going to happen. She just appeared like a strike of lightning and left us all irrevocably changed in her wake.

“Good morning,” the witch says suddenly behind me.

I wasn’t paying any attention, or I would have heard her like I did on that first day.

“Good morning. Did you get any sleep?” I ask, turning to look at her.

It’s hard to be a functional mortal being with everything she has been going through. I’m glad for the first time in my life that I only need an hour of sleep to be completely functional and rested. I wouldn’t survive otherwise.

“I did, actually.” She gives me a small smile.

Her hair is sticking up slightly from where she slept on it, and her face has soft lines from her sheets and pillow.

I want to cup her face and smooth the lines away, kissing her until she is well and truly awake, but touching her feels like a betrayal so deep I can’t stomach it.

I give her a tight smile and point to the fridge. “I made some yogurt yesterday evening, and there is some fresh fruit with it.”

“No baking?” she asks, eyes scanning the counters for my usual mess of fresh baked goods.

Empty.

“No, I couldn’t really focus,” I admit, stirring the simmer pot and swirling all the ingredients into a whirlpool.

You aren’t really supposed to impart any discord into the magic, but it’s all I can seem to feel, so it seeps in, just a touch.

“Oh, OK. How have you been sleeping?” she asks, walking over to the fridge and pulling it open. She pokes around inside before pulling out a package of strawberries and the yogurt. “Have you been sleeping?”

“As much as I need,” I reply, trying to skirt around the fact that I would be exhausted otherwise.

“Hmmm.” She sits down at the island, grabbing a large bright red berry.

She pulls the cover from the yogurt container and dunks the fruit right in. I wince at the cross contamination, the move reminding me of something Atlas would do.

She takes a bite of the fruit and moans. “This is so good. How did you make the yogurt?”

Her curiosity is almost enough to dull the ache in my chest.

“Instant Pot and a little bit of either already-made yogurt or cultures you can get from the shops,” I reply, stirring and stirring the pot.

“It’s really, really good. Thank you for making it.”

“Of course, I need to keep the nest well fed.” The words are weak, barely a whisper.

“Oh…Julius.” Charlotte stands up and rushes to me, crushing me from behind in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

I feel her tears seep into the fabric of my sweater and grip the wooden spoon tighter.

“It’s not your fault. It’s all our fault. We were too gentle with Atlas. He should have been going to therapy.” My shoulders slump. “We failed him long before you came along.”

“I didn’t help at all, and yeah, I think we all need therapy.”

I sniffle, and I can feel her wipe her nose on me.

I grin just a little and turn around in her arms. I pull her closer and rest my chin gently on the top of her head.

“He’ll calm down and come back. He has to.”