The Boy Witch

21: Cornered

After checking the living room, I head to the kitchen. There I see the four of them with Morrigan putting away the food they had brought along. I look at the counter top where I had left the melted cup only to find that Morrigan wasn't lying and that it truly is gone.

As Matthew helps the human Morrigan put away the food, he begins to ask some questions. "So, Miss Nightfall—"

"Please, Morrigan is fine."

Matthew smiles politely, continuing on. "Morrigan, what do you do for work?" The other three look on curiously at this, wondering the same.

Morrigan smiles that same unusually charming smile as she replies, "I'm something akin to a historian and usually do freelance curator work in museums across the country." Well, this is something new. Usually if she was asked, she would say she's a lawyer or a business woman. Now hearing this new lie, I realize it's much better at explaining moving across the country when pressed for details.

Morrigan always had an interesting library of facts in her head about artifacts and history.

Rosie, who is wrapped in Josh's arms as he sits at a barstool, looks up in interest at the answer. "What do you specialize in?" she asks, pushing her red-rimmed glasses further up her nose. "China? Porcelain? Perhaps paintings? That would explain North's passion of art."

"You guessed right. I specialize in arts, specifically paintings." Morrigan smiles charmingly, to which I try to hide my cringe. This personality just doesn't fit her. Where's my sassy, aloof, and icy familiar?

"This definitely doesn't fit you at all, dear sister." I subtly tease through our link. Morrigan doesn't react to my prod, continuing to entertain her guests. She doesn't show any indication of hearing what I said, nor does she reply back with a snap of her own, making my tense.

"Morrigan?" I try again. This time there's a noticeable difference, as if the connection itself has been blocked. It isn't like when I purposefully block out Morrigan from my thoughts, no. This is as if the bridge that links us is weakened.

Morrigan doesn't show she hears me but her eyes narrow the slightest bit, almost imperceptible. She turns her head to see me at the doorway and smiles with a wave of her hand. "Don't just stand there, North. Come and help with this."

Ah, so she noticed it too.

As I help put away the food, Morrigan takes the chance and subtly touches my hand. "Your magic is too low for us to use the link. Don't force it." Morrigan's voice floats through my head, almost as an afterthought, but clear as crystal. It's a simple explanation, one that I don't question, but this has never happened before. How annoying.

Not having enough magic has never been an issue for me, though I usually don't risk it anyway. The issue has always been having too much magic to contain. Now that I don't have enough to even communicate with my familiar, I realize that today has been a lot more draining on me than before.

When I finish helping with the food, I go to sit on my usual barstool only to see Alex sitting next to it. Deciding to be civil in my home, I stiffly sit in my spot with him besides me. He glances at me with piercing eyes, watching me as I try not to be bothered being next to him.

He almost seems... relieved?

I look away from him, appearing to tune in to the conversation between Morrigan and the twins. In reality, a sudden drowsiness had me nearly falling asleep at the counter and I'm simply fighting to stay awake. After a moment of struggling I simply give up, crossing my arms on the cold countertop and resting my head on top. I can still feel his gaze on me, even as I slowly doze off. Unexpectedly, I find his stare comforting instead of intrusive like it should.