The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches

by Sangu Mandanna

Mika found it difficult to believe anyone had been able to resist Primrose’s persuasions (which an uncharitable person might say better resembled genteel bullying), but still, it was rather comforting to know that this small, soaked group on the pier wasn’t all that was left of them.

(Primrose, of course, was an exception to the Rules. Mika supposed it was just one of the many privileges of being the oldest, most powerful, and most bossy.)

She unscrewed the lid of the jar labelled luck, shook a handful of small, dried tea leaves into a teapot, and returned the jar to its place between sleepy and when your uterus is up to its usual tricks.

“I can’t imagine how much it must have hurt to be used like that, but surely, surely, you don’t plan to let one slimy cretin affect the way you live your life?”

“Who said anything about transforming the world?” He shrugged. “What about just making it a little better? And then a little better? And then a little more, until, one day, maybe long after we’re gone, it has transformed?

“Reluctantly,” said Jamie wryly, “and with tremendous ill grace, but yes. I will.”