I stared at Rall Axton. The tallies in my eyes read “zero comprehension.”

“As a witch,” Axton explained, “she’s blind, like me. I suppose it has to be my fault, really, but who’d expect that kind of an outcome?”

“You mean she has no talent?” I said.

Rall’s face screwed up on one side. “It depends on how you define it. ‘Talent’ isn’t even a real term. It’s all mixed up about magic, your ability to manipulate it, what you can sense, how you sense it, if you’re lucky enough to see—” He waved his hand around. “That kind of thing. I tried to talk to Ellis about it a few times. I wanted to understand.”

“What did you learn?”

Rall leaned forward and put his folded hands on the table. “You know that there’s a difference between a magician’s ability to perceive magic and their ability to manipulate magic, right?”

“Yeah. Talent and power.”

“With witches it’s a bit more complicated. To them, power is a combination of how much magic the witch produces and her ability to manipulate magic—both her own and the world’s.”

“Okay.”

“In that regard, Olivia is one of the most powerful witches I know. She’s so powerful, we didn’t find out about her lack of perception until she was eleven.”

“She can’t see anything?”

“Most witches can’t see magic. That’s a rare talent. But most witches, and quite a few people who aren’t witches, can sense the magic, out there, around them.”

“Then, she can’t sense anything.” It seemed too incredible to me. I had to be missing something.

“Nothing outside of her own magic. If you put a blind person in the middle of a strange room and told them to hold still, they wouldn’t know anything about where they were. But when they started moving around, touching things, and feeling out where everything was, then they would. Olivia’s the same way. She can only sense the magic she’s producing. To know what’s going on around her, she has to feel around with her own power.”

“O-okay,” I stuttered. “But how does that—you know—affect her?”

“Well, the most obvious consequence is that she’s cut off from most spiritual magic.”

I knew that natural magic included everything in the material world, even the normally invisible stuff like magic power, and that spiritual magic was somehow supposed to be the other stuff—but my understanding of what that stuff was, where it came from, and how it wasn’t a part of the material world, was a nebulous blob of confusion hiding behind a convenient term.

“Is that a problem?” I asked.

“For a sorcerer or an alchemist, it never would be,” Rall said, “but witches are different. Being able to work with spiritual magic is one of the things that makes witchcraft unique. If you can’t do any kind of divination…” He frowned and shook his head. “You might as well turn in your hat. The other issue is that doing magic is automatically more difficult for Olivia. She has to be expending power simply to know what’s going on, and then she has to use even more power to accomplish her tasks. Precise spell work is harder as well—like trying to sign your name neatly on a line with your eyes closed.”

I could still remember Ellis’s exact tone: “A rune, Miss Oliversen?”

“Do witches use runes?” I asked.

“Not often. Only if they need to hold their place in a complex spell. That’s a tool that sorcerers are more likely to use.”

A crutch. Olivia had been using a crutch to help her direct her power to the proper place, and when her mother had taken her crutch away, Olivia chose to send that power to every inch of the room, lighting the candle by brute force, rather than let her mother win.

I put my elbows on the table and put my head in my hands. It felt like I was seeing Olivia for the first time in my life.

“What on earth happened here?” I muttered.

“I’m sorry?” Rall said.

I tried to organize my thoughts—which, at the moment, was like trying to scoot a swarm of bees along with my bare hands.

I raised my head. “First of all, how did you not know, and then, how did you find out?”

“Our best guess is that it had to do with the damned inexactness of it all. The teachers would look at this seven-year-old girl and say, ‘can you sense that?’ and Olivia would reach out with her power, and she’d sense it! How was she supposed to know that the other girls weren’t doing the same thing?”

“And they didn’t—I don’t know—sense her doing it?”

“Ellis might have, if she’d been in the room. But a normal teacher?” Rall shook his head. “Young witches are clumsy at that age. They go spilling their power all over the place, and Olivia had a lot to spill.” He shifted in his seat. “We found out about her blindness on the day she took her entrance examination.”

There was no expression on his face this time. No smile, real or faked, and no theatrical frown meant to communicate something. There was nothing but a somber softness to his features, and a sense of sadness in his eyes.

“That poor young woman,” he said.

“Olivia?”

“No. The woman that gave her the examination. I don’t remember her name. She was a first-generation witch—a scholarship girl. She’d barely become an adept. She didn’t know anything. Halfway through the test, it became obvious something was wrong. She figured out what it was very quickly, but because Olivia had passed the tests and done everything that was asked, she admitted Olivia into the program.”

In the short silence, the temperature in the kitchen seemed to drop a degree.

“Ellis was furious,” Rall whispered.

“Why?”

“She was already the head of the coven. That meant she was also the de facto mistress of Saufgrove. Under normal circumstances, someone like Olivia would never have been admitted into the secondary program. But for her daughter, they’d made an exception. It looked bad. It looked very bad.”

“But she didn’t know,” I said. “Did she?”

“Ellis is strict and fair-minded. She never would’ve allowed it if she had.”

Strict, I believed. I wasn’t as sold on “fair-minded.”

Rall went on, “When Ellis found out, she tried to have the decision revoked. Those were”—his voice dropped—“bad days. Ellis, holding off the cats that wanted her head on a platter while trying to keep the coven running smoothly, do all her own work, and figure out what to do about Olivia. Olivia was in tears most of the time. All her life, all she’d wanted to be was a witch. Like her mother. And her mother was the one trying to get her pulled from the school. She couldn’t understand! She thought she’d done something wrong.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I could picture it. Rall wrapping his arms around Olivia’s small frame. Her burying her bright red head against his shoulder. My heart ached with sympathy.

Axton took a deep breath. “Eventually the school board decided to let Olivia try, even though it went against all the rules.”

He paused.

I was surprised by how creaky my voice sounded when it broke the silence: “That was kind of them.”

Rall grimaced. “It wasn’t kindness. Witches are worse than warriors when it comes to brutality. I’d bet this house that half of the women on that board only wanted to watch an Oliversen fail. And they wanted to see what Ellis would do—if there would be anything they could use against her.”

This time I kept my mouth shut and let the silence have its say. Seconds passed.

Rall sighed, then said, “But Olivia kept insisting she wanted to go. Between that and the school board’s decision, Ellis had to allow it. All she could do was lay down the law. There would be no exceptions or accommodations granted. Olivia had to pass the classes like every other student. If she couldn’t keep up, she’d be expelled—no second chances.”

“And Olivia did it?” I wasn’t sure how I could feel so proud of someone I didn’t even like.

“She had some help,” Rall admitted.

“From you?”

He chuckled. “Alas, no. I quit my job to research magic, but I was years behind. By the time I might’ve been useful, my little girl didn’t need me anymore. It was that young woman.” He snapped his fingers as if he was trying to recall a name. “The one from the examination. Even if it was an accident, I think she felt bad for putting Olivia into such a tough spot. I understand she tutored Olivia almost every day after school. Now that”—he shook his finger at me—“that was kind of her.”

My mouth had gone dry. I had to lick the roof of it before I could speak.

“Autumn Langley.”

Rall cocked his head and looked at me.

I said, “The name of the woman that gave her the exam—”

“Oh, yes!” Rall smiled. “Autumn Langley. That was her name.”

Olivia Oliversen. Autumn Langley. And Nolan Kirby—a man that Olivia couldn’t help being curious about. No wonder she’d asked him all those questions about his blindness.

Rall Axton scooted to the front of his chair and put his arms on the table. “Now, Miss Cole—or, Emerra, since we’re both in our pajamas—now that I’ve answered your questions, why don’t you tell me the real reason that Olivia came home?”

My swarm of thoughts, which had been buzzing around, accomplishing who-knows-what with their hundreds of tiny tasks, all stopped, mid-hum, stupefied by the unexpected question.

Fortunately, my confident and articulate nature came to my rescue:

“Ummmmmmm…”

Rall ignored my witty rhetoric.

“In case you couldn’t guess from everything I’ve told you, I don’t have much use for secrets. I generally find that communication works better.”

“Uhhhhh…”

“I know that Olivia never would’ve come back here without a compelling reason. And it isn’t the festival or her report. Ellis misses a lot, but even she can see that.”

I let out a hollow laugh and muttered, “‘Blind as a witch.’”

Rall blinked. “That’s something that Olivia used to say.”

“She still says it.”

“Well, I’m not a witch. I can see something’s going on. Olivia will never tell me, so I’m hoping I can strong-arm you into spilling the beans.”

“Why won’t Olivia tell you?”

“Oh”—he rolled his eyes just like his daughter did (but less often)—“it’s the same old story. She thinks I’m useless. Or she doesn’t want me saying anything to her mother.”

“Would you tell Ellis?”

Rall hesitated, then said, “Not for this. Not that it’s a secret, mind you, but I wouldn’t want to bother her with it when she’s so busy with everything else.”

I smiled when I heard that bit of justification.

I agreed with him about communication working better than secrets, and while I respected the fact that Olivia didn’t want to tell her parents what she was doing, she hadn’t explicitly told me not to.

Okay. She had told me not to take their bait—but this was hardly bait! It was more like…a friendly conversation! And, god knew, we could use another ally.

Rall and I looked at each other—two kindred souls who knew how to bend, braid, and whirl our thoughts to get what we wanted.

“I’d rather not twist your arm.” Rall’s eyes were sparkling. “Not if you really are in that fellow, Bauer’s, pack.”

I put my forearm on the table and leaned over it. “If Olivia asks, you tricked me into telling you with a bunch of clever questions.”

“She’d never believe me if I told her that. Remember, she doesn’t think much of me.”

“Yeah, but she thinks even less of me. She wouldn’t be surprised if I told her I’d been outwitted by a pile of pond scum.”

Rall winked. “Got it.”

“Do you know who Nolan Kirby is?”

He shook his head.

“He runs the apothecary shop near the school.”

“The blind fellow! I’ve only met him once or twice, but he seems nice.”

“He is. He’s friends with Olivia.”

There could be no greater testament to a soul’s gracious and patient nature.

“I didn’t know that,” Rall said.

“She got to know him while she was studying at Saufgrove.”

Rall rubbed the white stubble on his chin. “That makes sense.” He paused, mid-rub. “Oh, dear. Oh. Yes, I can see why she would’ve been drawn to him.”

“He’s gone missing.”

“Missing?”

“There’s a sign up that says he’s on vacation, but Olivia and Autumn Langley think something’s wrong.”

“If a man is missing, surely that’s something you’d take to Ansel.”

“She’s done what she can, but there’s all this red tape and rules around a missing adult or something. Olivia’s here to figure out what’s going on.”

“Is that why she asked if there was anything weird going on in town?”

“Yes.” I’d already heard the answer, but it occurred to me that Rall Axton might have different sources of information than his wife. “Has there been anything weird?”

“What kind of weird?”

Ah. Yes. The big question.

It couldn’t be weird like camels walking down the street in snow-shoes. Something that obvious would have been noticed long before now. And since there’d been no magic at the shop, there didn’t seem to be much point in asking about magic-weird.

“They’re criminals, obviously.”

No kidding, obviously. At the time I wondered why Jacky had bothered mentioning that conclusion—but now I could see the implications of it, leading off into the fog like crumbs laid along the ground.

I said slowly, “Has there been any more crime recently?”

Rall scowled. “I’m not sure, but I’d doubt it. We don’t get much crime in Craftborough. When roughly sixty percent of the population is made up of practicing witches, most people think twice before doing something others wouldn’t approve of.”

“Do you know of anyone who would know?”

“That’s an easy answer. Tarah Ansel.”

“Ah, yes. Um, does she happen to like you?”

Rall smiled sympathetically. “It can be hard to be a stranger in a small town, can’t it?”

Honestly, I thought most of our problems getting along with people stemmed from being associated with the Oliversens, but I couldn’t tell if it was due to Ellis’s influence or if Olivia had earned the animosity all by herself.

“Let me ask around,” Rall said. “I have a group of friends I meet with every morning to go walking. I think we might be useful to you.”

“Really?”

“Never underestimate the power of retirees. We have all the time in the world to get into trouble.”

“Call out the geriatric gang?” I said with a grin.

“Exactly! And keep me informed if you learn anything.”

“I will.”

“What are you three doing tomorrow? No—I mean today. Later today.”

“We were going to talk to the people in Kirby’s neighborhood and ask them if they’d noticed anything, but Olivia wants to know what happened tonight, so we might be taking a detour.”

“Are you talking about the call that Ellis got?”

I nodded.

“Olivia isn’t planning on asking Ellis, is she?”

Rall had made it sound more like an assumption than a question, but I thought I could hear a small note of hope clinging to the edge of the words. After all, there was a chance, even if it was a tiny one, that he was wrong.

I hated to be the one to squash a hope, and the smaller it was, the worse I felt doing it, but I didn’t believe in lying either. Not about something like that.

I shook my head.

Rall’s mouth twitched back in a sad, I-knew-it smile.

I said, “Would Ellis tell her anything if she did ask?”

“No, probably not,” he said. “Ellis likes to play a close hand. She’s very independent, and there are few things she can’t handle.”

I thought about that for a second. “Is one of them Olivia?”

Rall nodded.

“Would Ellis be angry if she knew that Olivia was asking around?”

“About Mr. Kirby? I doubt she’d care. But if she felt that Olivia was trying to butt into coven business, that might cause some sparks.” He shrugged. Sparks were probably business as usual where those two were concerned.

“What if Olivia explained that the only reason she was asking was because she was looking for her friend?”

Rall faintly shook his head.

My stomach sank. “Is it that hopeless?”

“Hopeless? I wouldn’t go that far. But the first hurdle would be the worst. We’d have to convince them to talk to each other.” Rall stood up and grabbed his bowl and spoon. “If I’m going to make it out to my morning walk, I’d better try to get some more sleep.”

I picked up my own dishes and followed him to the sink. We rinsed them, put them with the small stack of dishes waiting for the dishwasher to be emptied, and walked back up the stairs.

With every step, my nerves jangled more and more. The unease built until my stomach felt like a stone. I decided I had to say something.

“R-rall,” I stuttered, “would you mind trying to keep this from Olivia for a while?”

“You mean the fact that I’m helping?”

“More like the fact that I asked for your help. I mean”—I forced myself to shrug—“she’ll probably figure it out pretty quickly, but…for now…”

“That won’t be a problem. I can be as cryptic and as stealthy as a ninja.”

I amused myself by imagining Rall Axton, all dressed up in full ninja gear, creeping around the roofs of Craftborough. That would certainly embarrass Olivia.

“Is there a reason you’d rather I didn’t tell her?” Rall asked.

“I don’t know if she’d approve, and I’d rather not have her any angrier at me than necessary.”

“Do you think she would be angry?”

I sighed. “I think most of the things I do make her angry.”

“Ah.” Rall reached out and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “That makes you practically one of the family.”