Page 89 of Summer L.A.W.

For half a heartbeat, the storm paused.

Then the cauldron burped out one last pulse of icy magic, strong enough to sweep every witch, professor, and wallaby across the room like a chaotic, sparkly avalanche.

Brianna stood just outside the open greenhouse door, shivering. “Goddess, we beseech you, fill this room with the warmth of sunlight! If for the good of all, so mote it be!”

The room filled with bright light. Everyone blinked and shielded their eyes.

The snow and ice melted into water. The witches regained their footing and quickly exited the greenhouse.

Joell shook the droplets from her hands. “Leave it to the newest witch to remind us of the basics.”

“What are the basics?” Sebastian asked. His voice was steady, and he no longer looked like he was about to burst into tears.

“Just remembering we’re not alone when our own powers let us down. We can turn to the Goddess in an emergency. The trick is reverently asking for what you want but knowing she might not answer in the way you expect.” Magda said.

“In other words, ‘Be careful what you wish for’?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Magda didn’t follow the others back inside right away. The courtyard slowly emptied. Rayna herded people toward coffee and dry socks. Sahara muttered about residual tingles, and Brianna promised to write a new scene into her next chapter. Chad lingered just long enough to give Magda a quick, awkward side-hug that smelled like aftershave and worry, then jogged up the steps after the others.

Silence settled over the lawn, broken only by the distant rush of ocean waves and the soft, wet squish of thawing grass as she paced.

Wally climbed onto Magda’s shoe, hugged her leg, and stared at her with concern. “Mrrrp?”

“I know,” she said. “That could’ve gone a lot worse. Which is saying something, because it already went pretty damn badly.”

She sank onto the low stone wall bordering the herb beds, elbows on her knees. Her fingers still smelled like mint, eucalyptus, and the metallic tang of overworked iron.

Potion #6 had been so close. Close to controllable. Close to brilliant. But what next? If she wasn’t careful, she’d turn them all into smiling, overcomplimenting cult members who might have walked into traffic while praising each other’s hair.

“Great job, Magda,” she muttered. “Next, you’ll invent weaponized niceness.”

Wally hopped into her lap and flopped sideways, his little paws pressed to her stomach like he was trying to hold her together.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she whispered, nudging his ear. “I’m allowed to sulk for five minutes.”

The side door creaked.

Magda straightened automatically, wiping at her cheeks in case her eyes had decided to be assholes about any of this.

Sebastian stepped out, blinking into the fading light. He’d shed his lab coat somewhere along the way, leaving himself in a rumpled button-down and jeans that were damp up to his knees. His hair was still wet from earlier, and a single curl stuck stubbornly to his forehead, refusing to behave. It tracked with the rest of his life right about now.

“I thought you’d gone inside,” she said.

“I did,” he replied. “Then I realized I’d left my emotional support botanist in the yard.”

Despite herself, a tiny smile twitched at her mouth. “I’m not sure I qualify as emotional support after all that.”

He crossed the grass and stopped in front of her, hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to reach for her yet. “You qualify,” he said. “We just need to remember we’re running an experiment, not staging a miracle on demand.”

Magda stared at the damp ground between them. “I keep telling myself that. But they trust me with their hearts, Sebastian. Their actual hearts. I don’t want to keep screwing up in bigger, weirder ways.”

“You’re not screwing up,” he said gently. “You’re discovering limits.”

She huffed. “Theirs or mine?”

“Both,” he admitted. “But limits are good. Limits mean you’re paying attention.”