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"You realize you’re making me lie to someone I really care about, right?"
The pit in Tara’s chest–the one that engulfed her heart since this quest first started earlier in the week–opens wider, sucking in everything it could find until she is left with nothing but the heavy guilt. Lina sighs, stubbing her toe into the ground and glances away, her lips pulling down into a frown. For a brief second, she isn’t the High Priestess of Fairhaven’s Coven. Just the working mom who wrangles her twins at night and runs the main grocery store during the day. Just the wife who lies to her husband every night as she rushes out the door to reach the Coven's circle.
“I do that every night, Novice.” She straightens up then, shifting back into the leader of Fairhaven's witches. Her eyes are sharp, even in the dark and Tara feels that flickering awe that swims within her anytime she witnesses the High Priestess in action. Still, when Lina speaks again, her voice is gentle, understanding. “I know it’s not easy, but it’s for everyone’s safety.”
She pulls out vials of the boost harvest potion, pressing them into Tara’s palms. “Take this. Go get some rest. We’re thankful for what you did.”
Tara nods, swallowing back the rush of emotions and bids everyone good night. Though she has a decent supply of levitation potion, with several more batches brewing in her sanctum, she decides to walk home.
The steady snow fall that started the evening prior thins, the flakes sweeping softly to the ground. She has walked the path from the coven to her cottage so many nights before, that her body moves without conscious instructions. As she navigates the forest, she works hard to push Giva, the drone and her role in sabotaging it from her mind. Her guilt is immense and she wants to avoid her girlfriend for at least two days, though that would raise suspicions. And it wouldn’t be fair to go invisible now.
Giva mentioned her new project–the research drone–offhandedly a few times the past couple of weeks. Tara loved Giva, but much of the science talk went over her head and she usually sat in her living room or on Giva’s bed with a soft smile as her girlfriend spoke about her research and the strangeness of the island. While Giva hadn’t paid out of pocket for the drone, it was still an expensive device that would bring the meteorologist closer to uncovering the island’s mystery. Her eyes lit up every time she hinted at revealing her new tech to Tara and though Tara had good reason to be anxious about Giva’s research, she couldn’t help feeling giddy at the prospect of her girlfriend breaking through some theoretical barrier.
But the drone was a threat and despite Tara’s (lukewarm) suggestions that the coven search for an alternative solution, Zephyr installed her scrambling device in the drone, rendering it useless for research. Tara hated the idea, but despised her role in it even more. She and Giva grew closer every day. Natalia was working on molding marriage bands for them. Tara didn’t believe she’d find love so quickly after her last fiance left her. Yet anytime she was near Giva, Tara heard Shelby’s voice in her mind, reminding her that fate always brought the right people together.
But could she really make a commitment to Giva, while actively hiding her witch abilities? Could she manage a life of sabotaging her love at night to keep the coven safe, while kissing away Giva’s tears in the morning and promising the research would work out?
You realize you’re making me lie to someone I really care about, right?
I do that every night, Novice.
Tara’s shoulders rise near her ears as she inhales and releases the air in a deep sigh. There are other chores to be done for the day, but she sweeps those off her mental to do list. Once she reaches home, she plans are to draw a warm bath, raid her kitchen for an easy meal and crawl into bed.
Angus stands at the entrance of town, his gaze shifting side to side as he searches for Malcontents. He raises a hand in greeting and Tara uses the remainder of her waning social energy to smile and wave back.
“Stay alert, Tara!” he calls, cupping a hand over his mouth so his voice carries. She tries not to roll her eyes.
“Of course Angus. See you tomorrow.”
Aside from her brief encounter with Angus, Tara crosses through town without bumping into another person. The businesses are empty, their doors locked shut and nearly every home is just as dark as the townsfolk not affiliated with the coven rest peacefully. Her eyes flick towards Lina and Parker’s home. Parker voiced his suspicions about his wife’s constant nightly visits to her ‘book club.’ He vented to Tara, seeking understanding and comfort, yet her eyes burned with the truth that she could never share with her friend.
Was that a life Giva was willing to live?
Giva had trusted Tara with her own secrets, with the true extent of her partier lifestyle, her fear of relapsing and her weekly participation in the support group at the Consciousness Center. Even if Tara didn’t fully understand the enthusiasm for the League and its tenets, Cameron was helping Giva and that made Tara happy.
Her girlfriend deserved the same amount of trust.
Tara sighs and runs her hand through her hair. She passes Natalia’s shop, the burning scent of coal still sharp in the air. Her feet drag against the ground as it shifts from the stone path of town, to the natural dirt road that leads to her farm. Flecks of light blink in the dark as her whirligigs tend to the crops and animals. She thinks about making a trip to the mines in the morning. She wants to commission Zephyr for another device, one that will help clear the trees on her land and cracking open mineral deposits will help her release the frustration sitting on her chest.
Her front door is a few steps away, but there’s a figure leaning against the gate and Tara sucks in a breath.
“Giva, sweetheart,” she says, coming to a stop. “What are you doing here?”
It’s a quarter till eleven and while Tara’s front door is always open to Giva, her girlfriend rarely visits after nine.
Giva pulls her glasses from the bridge of her nose, cleans them on the bottom of her shirt and wipes the corner of her eyes before setting her glasses back on her face. "I’m sorry it’s so late.” Her voice is phlegmy and Tara winces. “I just–I was hoping I could spend some time with you. It’s been a rough day.”
“Of course.” She rushes to close the distance between them and trails a hand down Giva’s back, guiding them towards the front door. “What happened?” She fills her voice with genuine concern and curiosity, though she already knows why Giva is upset. Tara feels the air leave her girlfriend’s lungs.
“The drone I’ve been experimenting with keeps returning useless data. I tested it when it first arrived and it was great. But recently, it’s all rubbish. Maybe something in the body shifted when I accidentally crashed it near Violet’s home.”
The farmhouse is dark inside, a hidden chill rising from the floorboards. Tara leads Giva to the rocking chair in front of the fireplace and turns her attention to building a fire. She’s grateful for the chance to focus on something besides her distraught girlfriend. Guilt must be seared on her face.
“I’m really sorry, sweetheart.” Her hands shake as she brings the long matchstick to the crumpled newspaper under the logs. “I know you were excited for the drone. Maybe you can send it out for repairs?”
There is no way Zephyr’s device would be discovered or removed. The drone would never record accurate research again. But it felt like the right thing to say and even if Tara was putting the coven before her relationship, she wanted to offer Giva some comfort, no matter how hollow it may be.
With the fire growing and slowly pushing back the chill, Tara returns her attention to her girlfriend. Guilt squeezes her heart. Giva sits in the chair with the knitted blanket pulled up to her shoulders, her brown eyes void of the usual spark that first drew Tara to her and her lips are pulled down in a frown. She glances up at Tara, searching as if she holds the answer to this conundrum and Tara feels the breath squeezed from her lungs.
How could Lina go ten years keeping her secret from Parker when Tara can barely manage one evening of lying to Giva?
“Can I help in any way?” Tara asks. She shrugs off her jacket, beads of sweat dotting her neck as the fire warms her back.
Giva continues studying her and for a moment, Tara fears that the truth is written on her face. That her girlfriend can see clearly the role Tara played in disrupting the drone. She considers rushing to fill the silence, but just before she can speak again, Giva shakes her head. She sniffles and lifts her glasses to wipe the corner of her eye.
“I’m sorry dear one. It’s late,” Giva says, forcing a smile. “I shouldn’t have imposed like this. I’ll be fine.”
Tara wraps a hand around Giva’s wrist and feels her pulse warm and strong against her palm. “You’re not imposing,” Tara says. She caresses Giva’s closed fist until the other woman opens her palm and their fingers weave together. “Whatever I’m doing is never as important as making sure you’re alright.”
This time wehn Giva smiles, it’s small, but real. It feels like a victory and Tara greedily accepts it. “Maybe I can stay for an hour?” Giva says.
“You can stay the night if you like.” Tara pauses to think, her heart melting as her girlfriend brushes her thumb across her wrist. “I’ll cook us something to eat. You can freshen up or sit here by the fire.”
“I don’t want you to do everything.”
Tara rolls her eyes with a smile. “I have tea leaves, cinnamon and milk. I like how you make chai. Do you want to make some?”
“Sure darling.”
They linger for a few seconds and Tara feels Giva relax. When they finally split, they head to different sections of the home. Giva slips into the spare bedroom and Tara sets fresh clothing outside the door for her to change into. Then she enters her own room and changes out of her dress into cotton shorts and a t-shirt with the logo from her favorite band printed on the front. She takes calming breaths as she changes, willing her thoughts to travel no further than what she’ll cook for dinner.
She and Giva have dated for four months and they’re both intimately familiar with the other’s home. It’s easy to drop by for a chat or a quick lunch when the mountain pass trail stops just outside their doors. And they’ve lingered outside of each other’s home–usually Tara’a–several nights, whispering ‘good night’ in between an endless flurry of kisses. But this is the first full night they’ll spend together. Tara is surprised at her giddiness to turn over in the morning and see Giva sleeping beside her.
When she emerges from her room, the spare bedroom’s door is still shut and she shuffles to the kitchen to prepare an easy, comforting meal. She has Giva’s favorite meals memorized and there is fresh chicken breasts that Kim shared after Tara’s latest sale to the butcher. She pulls that from the refrigerator, along with chilis, rice, milk and freshly picked tomatoes.
The rice begins to simmer by the time Giva comes out, wearing an old pair of Tara’s sweats and a plain shirt. She released her top bun and her hair cascades down her shoulders. She shuffles into the kitchen on bare feet, focusing on her glasses as she once again cleans it. Tara takes a moment to look at her, to imagine the near future where Giva entering the kitchen dressed for bed is as normal and frequent as the sun shining on a new day.
The house has felt smaller, less intimate since Hazel died. Tara spent time outside the house to avoid the constant reminders and small touches that her grandmother left behind. She invited guests over frequently–usually Violet or Lina, though sometimes Sophia would drop by with a warm meal. Her father mentioned coming from the city for an extended visit, though so far they have yet to set any concrete plans. Tara believed the farmhouse would never again feel warm and inviting after her grandmother died.
Then Giva settled into Tara's life. It isn’t a perfect replica of when Hazel was still living. But it is comforting like a beloved sweater worn immediately from the dryer. And it is much more colorful and fragrant as Giva delivered baked scones or chai tea or rich stew bursting with seasoned meats and spiced tomatoes. Now, Tara thinks the farmhouse may feel lived in and familiar with another body moving through the rooms.
A hand settles on her waist and Tara hums, leaning back into the embrace. Giva looks over her shoulder, watching as Tara sautees the chicken and pours the tomato puree over the meat.
“Need help?” Giva asks.
“Nope. This won’t take long. Why don’t you work on our drinks?”
Conversation is sparse during the next fifteen minutes as they finish preparing their meal. Tara plates the rice and tikka masala while Giva sets the kitchen table. The kitchen smells of cinnamon, chilis and sweet milk and the string of flavors dance on Tara’s tongue when she takes her first bite. Across from her, Giva scoops spoonfuls for chicken and rice into her mouth, dabbing the corner of her mouth with the cloth napkin to clear away lingering sauce. They wash down their food with sips of rich chai, the tea a perfect mixture of cinnamon, milk and dashes of nutmeg. Under the table, Giva brushes her foot against the inside of Tara’s ankle and their smiles are soft and goofy when they lock eyes.
Tara’s guilt is still present, circling around in her chest. But it’s overshadowed by the love that pours out her heart as she watches Giva relax more and more. Tara isn’t sure if she can keep her secret from her girlfriend forever. She doesn’t want to hide a significant part of herself from the person she loves and she doesn’t want deception and suspicions to claim significant space in her relationship.
Giva reaches for her hand and looks at her with a softness that leaves Tara speechless. They’re nearly finished with their meals, only a few bites left on their plates. The food and tea sits heavy in Tara’s stomach and she swallows back a yawn.
“Thank you darling,” Giva whispers. “I needed this night.”
They’re well within the midnight hour now. Tara tries to clear the dishes, but Giva leaps to her feet–alert and spry despite the late hour–and collects everything. She washes their dirty plates and glasses, stores the leftover food in the refrigerator and leans against the counter, focused on Tara.
“The guest room is free,” Tara says. She keeps eye contact, despite her face growing warm. “You can sleep there if it’ll make you more comfortable.”
“Come on, we’re not five year olds,” Giva teases, though her smirk falters for a second. “We can bunk together. If you want?”
Tara wants so much with Giva. A home and life shared together. Maybe children in the distant future. Or at least another pet. She wants visits to Milkwater and cheesy vacation photos that they stick into photo albums. She wants to kiss Giva at the start of every new year and listen to her spiral into a scientific monologue that never seems to end. She wants to teach Giva how to raise farm animals and tend to the crops. She wants to share memories of Hazel with Giva and show her the headstone in the graveyard that memorializes her grandmother. She desperately wants to reveal to Giva that she is a witch and trust that the woman won’t turn heel and flee.
There’s so much to say, but for now Tara's wants are simple.
“Do you kick in your sleep?” she asks.
Giva shakes her head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“How about snoring?”
“No. Do you snore or kick or sleepwalk or anything?”
“Nope. But I am a cuddler,” Tara says.
“I can live with that.” Giva extends a hand and lifts Tara from her seat. They walk hand in hand to the bedroom, pull back the covers and settle onto the mattress. Tara is grateful she switched to new bedsheets the day before. She crosses the small space between them, curling around Giva’s side as the woman sets her glasses on the side table. Thick fingers massage the back of her neck, inching up until tangling themselves into her hair. Her eyes slip shut as lips press against the crown of her head.
“Good night, sweetheart,” Giva whispers.
Tara settles against her girlfriend’s shoulder. “Good night. Sleep well.”
She listens as Giva’s breath evens out as sleep claims her first. Tara tries to fall asleep, but she replays the evening in her mind and wonders if they could really maintain a life like this.
You realize you’re making me lie to someone I really care about, right?
I do that every night, Novice.
Those words haunted her. And Lina meant well. The town would struggle to accept the coven. Parker, Angus and Natalie are convinced Malcontents are terrorizing the city and Otto uses the witch trials to keep people in a constant state of fear. If one of the coven members is ever discovered, what would happen to them?
But Tara trusts Giva. She’s funny and kind and sweet. She is gentle when she touches or kisses Tara. She’s a scientist and it’ll be difficult for her to believe magic exists. But Tara feels a need to try. Parker and Lina’s relationship seems fragile on the best of days and while they both clearly love one another, Lina’s secret engulfs every other emotion present in their marriage. Tara does not want to put Giva in a similar position. It’s not fair to either of them.
She decides then to tell Giva the truth.
Maybe not tomorrow. Or within the week.
Already she feels her body grow heated and squirmy as her anxiety spikes. She’s not sure what consequences she’ll face. If she’ll be kicked out of the coven or made to perform some penance. Her heart flutters at the possibility that she may lose her relationship. That Giva’s lips that once kissed her sweetly will curl up in disgust or her eyes will betray the fear embedded in her heart when she learns about Tara’s abilities.
But Giva is the most important person in her life and their shared future will be sweeter, more genuine if Tara doesn’t have to rely on deception and vague responses when she leaves in the middle of the night.
Giva trusted Tara with the truth of her sobriety journey, her brown eyes warm and hopeful when they walked to the Consciousness Center. And that night Tara felt some invisible force bind them closer.
She believes that same force will keep them together when she reveals her abilities, when she places her heart and her truth in Giva’s hands.
Tara stretches and kisses her girlfriend’s cheek, confident in her decision. Her eyes slide shut and she falls asleep wrapped in Giva’s arms, smiling as the guilt loosens its hold within her chest.