TITLE: THE QUESTING WITCH
GENRE: YA Contemporary Fantasy
Every birthday is important, but for witches, it’s the seventeenth that counts.
I lock my arms around my knees as I look out at the gently rocking ocean, shimmering under the moonlight like a dragon scale. A steady breeze makes my long, thick hair tickle the sides of my face. This rocky New England coastline is as familiar to me as the floors in my house. I’ve never gone without callouses on the soles of my feet, salt on my skin. But only in the past few months have I seen so much of the ocean at night.
According to my phone, it’s two minutes to midnight. Two minutes to my seventeenth. And for the first time since we’ve started to meet, Lara is late.
“You came at the very start of the day,” Mom told me once. “A mere minute after midnight.” She usually refuses to tell me anything about what life was like when I was little, when my father was alive and around, but I’d managed to wring out that detail one night as we binged on Real Housewives. She was stirring a pot of eversleep potion – two strokes clockwise, four counterclockwise, repeat – and as usual, I could watch, but not touch. Thanks to her, the rituals of magic have always been frustratingly inexplicable. “You didn’t cry. You looked calm, like you were exactly where you were meant to be. Like you’d always been with us.”
I glance over my shoulder.