The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches

by Sangu Mandanna

WITCH WANTED. Live-in tutor wanted for three young witches. Must have nerves of steel. Previous teaching experience not necessary. Witchiness essential.

Her eyes very round, seven-year-old Altamira said, with perfect gravity, “That was some excellent Mary Poppins shit right there.”

He’s been the only parent those children have had since they arrived, and he guards them like a lion. There’s a heart of gold in there, once you get past all the scowling.”

It sounds like you’ve been alone for a long time.” “Oh, I’m used to that,” Mika said, her voice just a little too bright. “That’s the way it is.” “Not here, it’s not,” was all she got in reply.

“Because the three of you have something incredible to help you. You have each other.”

Oh. Oh, no. He’d pushed the sleeves of his white button-down shirt up past his elbows. She could see his forearms. Forearms were invariably her ruin.

“You okay, kid?” “I’m whatever okay is when you multiply it by a million,” Rosetta said, still gazing raptly out the window.

The new Nowhere House was messier than the first, a place made up of fractured pieces that, somehow, had come together to make something whole and wonderful.

She hadn’t realised just how heavy her mask had been until she’d discovered what it was to live without it.

It’s a leap of faith to love people and let yourself be loved. It’s closing your eyes, stepping off a ledge into nothing, and trusting that you’ll fly rather than fall.

So Mika stepped off the ledge at last, into nothing, and wouldn’t you know it? She flew.