Sweet & Bitter Magic by Adrienne Tooley (speed reading book TXT) 📗

“Wren’s right. They need you. Me, however…” She trailed off, pulling a book idly from the shelf and flipping through the pages.

“You could stay here,” Tamsin insisted. “There are plenty of things you could do. You could work in the library. You’ve always loved books. You could write. Research. You don’t need magic.”

Marlena shut the book with a loud snap. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” Tamsin gripped the chair tightly. Marlena had a way of making her feel foolish when she had only been trying to be kind.

“Deciding my life for me,” she said, shoving the book roughly back onto the shelf. “I don’t want to stay Within. There’s a whole world out there filled with people who aren’t magic. Now I’m one of them.” She smiled sadly, eyes far away. “I always thought one day I might go to Kathos. Now I can.” She brought a hand to her face and turned away. Tamsin knew her sister enough to recognize when she needed a moment.

She turned in her chair toward Wren, whose face was etched with worry. Her eyes drooped with exhaustion, her hair wild.

“You could have used the boon to free yourself,” Tamsin said quietly. “I thought that was what you would do. We could have gone back to Ladaugh together. It would have been a decent life.”

“It wouldn’t have been enough.” Tamsin was surprised to see fire in Wren’s eyes. “You have power. I saw it back there, by the sea. You could be so much more than a village witch catering to the whims of ordinary folk.”

Tamsin frowned. “I don’t deserve that.”

Being back Within, she had seen even more closely the destruction her impulse had wrought. Watching her sister mourn a loss she would never fully recover from, Tamsin felt the consequences of her actions even more intimately. She was more certain than ever that she did not belong here among the people she had betrayed. The people she had hurt.

“What does that mean, ‘deserve’?” Wren squinted at her, as though she truly wanted an answer. “Will you spend your entire life feeling guilty for what you did? Or will you try to redeem yourself with actions and deeds? Healing takes time.” Wren glanced at Marlena, whose back was still to them, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. “Forgiveness takes time. But none of it will happen until you allow it to.”

Wren twisted a lock of fiery hair around her finger. “You told me to ask for what I wanted. And I want to stay. I hid from my magic for so long, fought against the pieces of me that weren’t easy to explain. I want to know, now, who I am and what I can be. I don’t want to hold myself back.”

She laughed a little through shining eyes. “I wish I could tell my father. I wish I could show him who I truly am. All those years I gave myself up to be what I thought he wanted. But this is the truth. This is me.”

She reached forward to brush Tamsin’s cheek with her thumb. “And this is you. You were a child. Lost and desperate and afraid. You made a mistake. But if you don’t forgive yourself, no one else will either.”

Tamsin shivered at Wren’s light touch. At the gravity in her eyes.

It felt too simple. To move forward, carrying the weight of what she’d done without letting it hold her back. It was a delicate balance. Just like magic. Just like families and relationships and sisters who shared the same face but not the same heart.

Tamsin crossed the room to Marlena and wrapped her arms around her, resting her chin on her shoulder. At first her sister stiffened, tears still pouring down her cheeks. But then she let herself lean on Tamsin, collapsing into sobs. Tamsin held her close, the salt of her tears mixing with Marlena’s, a hand in her sister’s hair, as she did what she could to stop trying to fix and simply exist. Two girls—not halves, but two imperfect wholes.

Each of them enough.

The door opened with a soft click. Vera cleared her throat. Marlena shrugged herself out of Tamsin’s grip, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Their mother eyed her daughters with trepidation, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

There was a small smudge of black kohl beneath Vera’s left eye. A tiny thing, to be certain, but it reassured Tamsin slightly. All of them, regardless of power or past mistakes, were entirely and wholly human.

“The Coven has decided.” Vera’s tone betrayed nothing. “I explained that the plague occurred because our source did not fully sever the bond, which means this all occurred due to our negligence.” Vera shifted slightly. “However, the Coven believes that we must uphold your banishment.”

Tamsin went numb. Behind her, she heard a sharp intake of breath from Marlena and a gasp from Wren. Tamsin could not muster up the energy to be upset. All she was capable of was emptiness.

“Luckily for you, I have the final word.” The ghost of a smile appeared on Vera’s red-painted lips, but disappeared before Tamsin could determine if it was real. “You kept my secret. I owe you more than a boon. As High Councillor, I grant your curse and banishment lifted. You may return Within and live among us. You will aid in the revitalization, bringing Within back to its former glory. You will finish your studies. And you will behave as well as you are able.” The smile returned to Vera’s face. This time it stuck.

“If she’s allowed to stay, does that mean I’m free to go?” Marlena’s voice was ragged, her face blotchy, eyes red. “Now that the truth is out? My magic has left me. I’ve nothing to offer the world Within. So I’d like to leave.”

Vera studied Marlena’s face sadly. “Of course you can,” she said quietly. “But you know the way the Wood works. If you have no magic, you may leave, but you can never come back.”

“I know,” Marlena