Suddenly, the red-gold pup wriggled out and jumped onto my knapsack, snuffling loudly.
“My croissants!” I yelped and dove for my pack. The man grabbed for the pup, raking his hand against the edges of the broken wood, crying out in pain.
The red-gold flamefox lifted one paw to jump into the aisle. I dove, snatched the flamefox—it felt like I was grabbing onto a fire-warmed brick—and shoved him and his friend back inside. I could’ve sworn the red flamefox rolled his eyes. Then I plopped my knapsack on top of the hole.
I turned to my neighbor and sucked in my breath. A wicked gash extended from his palm up to his elbow.
“May I cast a healing charm on you?” I offered hesitantly, pulling out my wand.
“Ooh, the witch is performing magic!” a boy called out. Heads popped up from all around the boat to watch, and my cheeks burned.
Ideas for enchantments flickered through my mind. Slow as you go might backfire and make the whole boat stop.… There had to be another spell I could use.
The old man winced looking down at his arm, but he shook his head. “Please, could you help with the crate first? They’ll escape again.”
My chest tightened as I quickly examined the crate. There was never a one-size-fits-all spell. Mother created clever charms, sometimes in rhymes, that made her magic more focused—though she didn’t really need it. She and Grottel were the only ones in the realm who could utter one- or two-word spells. I couldn’t use her incantations, though. When I tried her enchantment for making dust fly out of the house, the dust swirled around in the corners and clumped up. By crafting my own incantations, I created a spell that was all mine, and that connected to the magic in my blood far better than borrowing charms. This was why it was so important for me to venture out on my own to become a Novice Witch.
At my side, the old man was pale, wincing again as he pressed a handkerchief to his gash. I had to fix the crate, fast. Pulling my own handkerchief out of my knapsack, I laid it over the gap.
“Knit, whipstitch, mend.” I tapped my wand on the cloth. This charm patched up minor tears I’d gotten in my dresses after falling asleep a few too many times from overextending my magic—but I wasn’t sure it would work in this pinch.
Pale blue light flowed out of my wand, and the handkerchief stretched and knitted to the wood, and when I knocked on it, it was stiff. I sighed in relief.
“Ah, thank you, missy,” the man croaked. His forehead gleamed, and sweat beaded on his bulbous nose.
“Er, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Strange, eh?” he said faintly. “I run a wild-beast shelter, yet I get woozy from a speck of blood.…” He held his arm out and turned his face away.
The cut looked surprisingly deep, and splinters were embedded in his skin. He grimaced and tried to make light of it. “When you get old like me, a simple cut isn’t so simple anymore.”
I tried to smile, yet I couldn’t. The next stop was still half an hour away—what if I couldn’t heal him?
I’d fail my quest before I even got off the boat.
“You can do it!” the boy called, his eyes shining. Around the boat, passengers bobbed their heads in agreement.
All I had in mind was a spell I had used on paper cuts, not wounds the full length of my arm. Still, I couldn’t think of anything else. I chanted, “Heal a slice that isn’t so nice.”
I chanted the charm again and again, and a surprising amount of magic poured from me until the splinters had eased out and only a faint pink scar remained.
“You did it!” The riders on the boat cheered for me and I blushed. Thankfully, most of them, deciding the show was over, sat down or went back to their newspapers.
“Ah, thank you.” The old man clutched his arm, splotches of color returning to his cheeks. “You don’t mind if I rest a bit, do you?” Without waiting for my answer, he closed his eyes with a wheeze of relief.
Moments later, as he let out a gentle snore, the flamefoxes started whining. Fearing they would wake up the old man, I fed them bits of flaky crust through the cracks, saving one last croissant for later. Their soft tongues tickled as they lapped up every speck.
The attendant stopped by. “Nice work, Eva,” Rin said.
“Oh.” I smiled at her. “I just did what any witch or wizard would’ve done.”
Rin tugged at her cap as she headed down the aisle.
I released a deep breath. Before boarding, I had been wound up and excited, but using magic had sapped my energy. I curled up against the window and yawned.
A ticklish feeling in the back of my mind reminded me of the ticket in my pocket. But the drain on my magic tugged at me, and the boat rocked me gently into a peaceful rest.
CHAPTER 6
THE TOWN OF LIGHTS
I was having a lovely dream. I had set up my own magical repair shop, and customers kept pounding at the door, flooding me with requests. Please help me fix this, Elite Witch! cried my guardian. Even my mother knocked, calling out, Eva, we need a repair that’ll save us from the Culling! I flung open the door and—
“Eva? Eva?” A salty breeze tickled my nose, and I rubbed my eyes. Rin, the boat attendant, leaned over the seat, her luminous honey-brown eyes twinkling. The old man with the flamefoxes was already gone. “Time to wake up, little witch.”
The knots in my neck protested as I sat up. The boat bobbed up and down instead of jetting through the waves. “W-why’ve we stopped? Did we make it to the sea?”
Rin glanced around. “What do you mean—oh!” She tilted her head back and laughed. “We’re at Auteri!”
“Auteri?” I echoed. “The home of the Festival of Lights?” The curtains were drawn on the windows, so I couldn’t see outside.
She beckoned me toward the door. “Come outside, you’ll see.”
It was too quiet. A creeping sense of dread crawled down my spine. “Doesn’t this boat keep going?”
“You mean you’re not supposed to be here? Auteri is the last stop of the route. The next boat won’t head back toward Okayama until morning.”
Her words rang in my ears. Last. Stop. I shot to my feet. The cabin was empty except for me and Rin and a handful of crumpled sandwich wrappers in the aisle, tumbling in the gentle wind.
My heart plummeted as sweat beaded on my forehead. Where was I supposed to have gotten off? Was I at the wrong stop?
“Maybe my ticket will show—” I dug into my pockets.
They were empty, except for a fistful of dust. A breeze blew and the remains of my ticket fluttered away in the cool air.
“Well, then.” Rin stared at my trembling hands and then cleared her throat. “I guess that means you’re meant to stay here, right?”
I curled my fists in the folds of my skirt. It felt as if I was drowning in the black depths of the sea. I gasped for air, but I couldn’t breathe, as if water flooded my lungs.
How was I supposed to figure out where I had to get off? My ticket had blown away in pieces, and I couldn’t scry like a fortune-telling witch.
“Come along, everyone in Auteri will be excited to meet you!” Rin waved at me to follow her. My knapsack tugged down on my shoulders, feeling heavier than it had in the morning, though I’d finished off nearly all the croissants and a jar of jam.