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Chapter

“You’re sure you’re okay with not going?” I asked Morgan.

We were upstairs at Mel’s while I got ready to go on my date-day with Cassandra.

I’d changed to Sunday when I glanced at a calendar and saw that it was May fourth.

Cassandra thought we were going to a nice breakfast, then the park to just spend a day alone together — there’d be some of that, but after breakfast we’d be doing something different, and I wanted to be sure Morgan wouldn’t be upset about missing out.

“I get it,” Morgan said. “Elsa’s been dealing with some shit and needs a special day.”

“Thanks. We can do it again, all together — maybe next year.”

“That sounds cool. I think it’s cool that you…”

“What?”

Morgan shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Come on, what? Since when have we had secrets?”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Since, um, when you found out you had magic, killed a guy, went to magic school, and married a lesbian?” She pursed her lips and nodded. “Yeah, since then.”

I flushed. Not like I could argue, since I’d kept all those things from her when they happened.

“Point,” I said. “But I think I made good on those once we found out you were a witch. Plus, we agreed on no more secrets back then.”

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

“Good — so you think it’s cool that I what?”

Morgan flushed and looked down at her hands, picking at the edge of one finger.

“You know — how you’re trying to make things unique. Special. Tumbleina and the fair, now Elsa.” She shrugged. “I just think it’s cool.”

I grinned. “So you think I’m cool?”

“I think that’s cool — you’re still a dweeb.”

I chuckled and stripped off the t-shirt I’d spent the morning in and grabbed my “date-shirt” from the closet. “I don’t think I’m that much of a — Morgan?”

Morgan’s eyes were wide and she was staring blankly at me, eyes not even on my face.

“Morgan? You okay?”

“What? Huh?” She shook her head rapidly. “Yeah! I mean, yeah, I’m okay. Just … just been a while since I saw you with your shirt off. Been working out, huh?”

I nodded, slipping into the shirt and starting to button it.

“A little.”

“You, ah, you should wear the blue one — I think you’d look good ou — in, in the blue one.”

I shook my head. “Not possible. This is one of the replacement mauve ones Sam got me and I won’t let her catch me leaving on a date in something else.”

“What? Every date?”

I nodded. “Yep. This is, apparently, the Mauve Shirt of Many Meanings. Her latest is that when I wear it to date within the coven, it signifies that I’d make the same commitment again.”

“That’s … kind of nice, actually, but why don’t you — you just try the blue one on. Just for a second. Then we should look at the brown one, too.”

“Nope. I’d just get sent back up here to change.”

I finished buttoning.

“Well, you know, that’s just one girl’s opinion. Maybe — maybe the blue one gives that message to others.”

I shrugged. “I don’t think Cassandra’s going to be looking for messages in my shirt.”

“Yeah, but — wait!”

I froze at the door and turned slowly.

“Yes?”

“Ah.” Morgan looked around the room, then pointed at me. “Yeah, yeah — that event thing you told me about?”

“What about it?”

“Well, if they all want their own ‘Events’, then how do you think they’re going to feel about having to share your shirt?”

“Those … were words, yes, but —”

“You’re hopeless. Listen, if they all want different Events, they’re going to want their date-shirt, not the same one for everybody.”

I frowned. “That does sound like girl-logic.”

“Hey!”

I did not say, I don’t think of you as a girl.

Even despite it not being true anymore, I can recognize some dangers.

I’m learning.

“Well? Doesn’t it?”

Morgan sighed. “Yeah, I suppose, but it’s still true. So try on the blue shirt?”

I shook my head. “Naw. Cassandra and I need to get going.”

Morgan hopped up from the bed and shoved past me to go downstairs.

“Well … well, fine! Wear your stupid shirt! That’s not even mauve, it’s wisteria!”

*

“I don’t understand why you were so insistent I wear jeans,” Cassandra said, again, as we got out of our ride.

“I like you in jeans.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes and took my arm.

I guided her toward the restaurant. It wasn’t as fancy a place as we’d had brunch at before shopping — in fact, it was kind of a hole-in-the-wall, but had fantastic breakfast and brunch reviews.

“Yeah, well, my butt’s still bruised and sore, so you’re going to have to do the lotion twice tonight.”

“I don’t object a bit to that.”

That got me another eye roll, but also a little smile.

Brunch was good — not fancy-place good, but good, and we both enjoyed it.

After, I led Cassandra down the block.

“The park’s the other way.”

I nodded. “We’re not going to the park.”

“Where are we going?”

I must have been getting good at the whole time-the-reveal thing, because just as with Priscilla and the fair, we’d arrived at the corner just as she asked and all I had to do was point.

“The end of that line over there,” I said, pointing.

“What’s — wait, really?”

The line of people extending from the hotel’s entrance was moving, but there were enough people to identify the groups of white armor, brown robes, and a few girls with tentacles or whatever on top of their heads. I gave Cassandra a glance — probably not the sort of tentacles she was interested in, but still fun to think about.

“Yep.”

Cassandra squealed and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me into a deep kiss, then grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the crosswalk.

“I haven’t been to one of these in years — I think I was seven. Hurry up before more people get ahead of us!”

I laughed and let her drag me along until we got to the conference registration, where we got our badges.

Cassandra was practically bouncing with impatience as the woman checking us in looked at her paper list again, then froze as the woman handed us an envelope.

“And here are your passes for the saber classes.”

Cassandra’s eyes followed the envelope as I slid it into my back pocket, then raised her eyes to my face.

“You are going to be so compliant tomorrow.”

*

My anticipation of being made compliant was tempered a little by knowing Cassandra still hadn’t gotten over her issues with us transferring mana — which meant we still couldn’t fully have sex, since it continued to trigger something in her.

While I was certainly looking forward to another fantastic blowjob — and I was absolutely thinking that two of those in four days should be setting some kind of precedent going forward — I kind of wanted a chance to make her feel as good as she did me.

We spent the morning going to panels and spent nearly two hours in the saber fencing class, then wound up in the hotel’s restaurant-bar in time for nachos and a drunken trivia contest.

“What are you going to do when you start showing?” I asked as Cassandra drained half a mug of beer.

“Showing what?”

I gestured at her stomach and raised my eyebrows. “When we go out somewhere like this once people can tell you’re pregnant — how are you going to handle drinking?”

Cassandra made a face, refilling her mug from the pitcher on the table.

I had a whiskey sour.

“Nobody’s going to see — oh! They’re starting!”

She scooped up a huge pile of nachos, stuffed it in her mouth, chewed, then washed it down with beer. Next she rolled her head and shoulders, shaking her arm out so that her hand and fingers flapped around.

“What are you doing?”

“Loosening up.” She stretched her arm high over her head. “This baby’s going up a lot tonight — I don’t want to pull anything.”

*

Cassandra killed the trivia competition.

You could almost hear the groans as each round’s winner was announced.

It was the last day of the con, so a lot of attendees had checked out, leaving rooms available, because neither of us wanted to make the ride back to Mel’s — and I sort of thought it would interrupt the mood if we had to traipse up to a room past Rachel and Mel and Felicity and … Sam.

Yeah. This was definitely a better place to end the night.

Afterward, I propped myself on one elbow and lightly traced fingertips over Cassandra’s face while watching the corners of her lips twitch.

I lay back and pulled her close to me.

“I’m sorry.”

I sighed. I guess this was now as much our thing as the girls’ Events — apologizing to me for something while cuddling in bed.

Even Rachel had done it — of course, that was for nearly biting my thumb off when I made the mistake of brushing it over her lips when she was distracted.

“For what?”

“The whole … thing.”

“Well, sure, the first one was better, but this one wasn’t bad.”

“Asshole,” Cassandra muttered, snuggling closer — which was quite an accomplishment, given how much and how tightly she was already pressed against me. “I know this one was better because you started making gurgling sounds and your left eyelid kept twitching.”

“I didn’t gurgle,” I protested.

“You gurgled — I kept waiting for little spit bubbles.”

I laughed. “How about we go with: I have no idea which was better, because my mind shuts off for a little bit?”

“Better.” She sighed. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s only been two months — maybe you just need more time. It’s okay.”

“I don’t want it to be okay — I want it to be fixed. I just don’t know what’s wrong.”

I’d really thought things might improve after the spanking — odd as that sounds — but it didn’t seem to.

“I don’t get it,” Cassandra went on. “I know you don’t care about how much mana I have and you’re not going to get angry with me for not having enough. I know you guys don’t hate me — and I do feel better about myself, even. I even know you all care about me as much as I do for you. I just don’t understand.”

“Are you still mad about the bruises?”

“Of course I’m still mad about the bruises, but I don’t really blame you. It’s not like you did it on purpose.”

I kissed the top of her head and another possibility occurred to me.

“You know I don’t need you to be like Sam, right? The things she and I do?”

“I hadn’t really thought of that … thanks so much for sticking another anxiety in my head.”

I chuckled. “We’ll figure this out.”

“How? I don’t even know what the problem is.”

I shrugged. “Well, Sam had the whole Love-resonant thing we couldn’t figure out, but that got fixed by us being kidnapped and locked in a basement — I’m kind of hoping you don’t need something that extreme.”

“It’d be worth it,” Cassandra muttered.

“Really?”

“I am not going to spend the rest of my life with the best sex I’ve ever had being locked in a basement with a vampire. That’s probably the pervert’s thing, but it’s not mine.”

“I don’t think Sam’s into vampires.”

“Did the vampire have tits? Because I’m pretty sure she’d do it.”

I gave it a couple seconds.

“Best?”

“If you didn’t know that already, you’re an idiot.”

A deep sigh. “Can we not talk about this tonight?”

Yes, she’d brought it up. Yes, we hadn’t really been talking about it for that long.

But this was pretty typical for Cassandra — she could handle about a minute on the topic before wanting to stop talking about it — and she didn’t respond well to attempts to continue.

I thought about what she’d said, though — about what she knew, but maybe didn’t fully believe or feel — and started to get an idea. A thought started to form about, maybe, what she needed, and whether we could give it to her. I’d have to talk to Sam and Rachel — Mel, too. Maybe Magistra Cassian. Sam had said the plea Cassandra used for Rachel’s binding had been old, but I’d liked it.

I tilted her head back and we spent some time kissing, before Cassandra drew back and whispered.

“Hand me my purse?”

“Sure.” I rolled to the side and retrieved her purse from the nightstand.

Cassandra rummaged in her purse for a moment, then slid it off the bed and rolled onto her stomach.

“Rub,” she said, holding out the jar of lotion Sam had made for her ass.

Chapter

On the Tuesday after Beltane, we were finally able to start serious work on the cottage — not plumbing and electrical, though, because we were planning to learn enough about that over the summer and come back for a couple weeks in August to work on the place, which would give time for it to air out. And give Peter a chance to check our work and make sure we didn’t burn the place down or fill the school coven’s cottage with sewage.

I broke off hauling the bed cushion — more of a large ottoman, really — out of the cottage into the cleared area we’d decided on for trying to reupholster the things. Opening one inside the cottage had released the scent of a hundred years of musty straw and down — along with the straw and down. That had been a mess to clean up and triggered the rule that everything be dragged outside first.

Now that the supplies we’d ordered had arrived we were ready to start work on them, and bolts of fabric, sheets of leather, and bags of white foam stuffing were piled on the cottage’s front porch, along with various rolls of memory foam. The girls had decided we’d have sheets of different density foam over the surface, to smooth out the bumps and dips of the ottomans, while also giving places with softer or firmer cushioning for people to rest and sleep.

Rachel and Cassandra were just about to pop a seam on the ottoman/cushion I’d brought out before, while Hannah and Brittany were sorting through the insides of yet another one, trying to salvage what they could.

I didn’t hold out much hope for that, given what I’d seen so far. The straw crumbled into powder at a touch, as did the feathers and down, while there was some horsehair in the mix that had become compacted, but might be reusable. Even the leather coverings were mostly brittle enough to crack and flake when we removed them and laid them flat.

I’d be okay with just replacing everything with modern materials instead of trying to salvage anything, but the girls just glared at me when I suggested it.

*

I huffed to clear my nose of the dust disturbed by carrying the ottoman outside.

“No!” Cassandra snapped at me, pointing. “Not there, there.”

I stared at where she was pointing — five feet to the left of where I’d put the thing.

“What difference does —”

“There! And bring out —” Cassandra pulled out her phone. “D4 next. It’ll go just to the right of that one.”

I sighed. Cassandra had put sticky notes on all the pieces so we’d know how things went back together. I almost wished I’d joined Sam and Priscilla in cleaning what would eventually become our coven’s downstairs bathroom — the space currently had some dividers up with a few chamber pots. The girls wanted it thoroughly clean before the tile went down and the plumbing line was run to make it a proper bathroom. I’d settled for doing the heavy lifting for Cassandra instead when Sam started muttering about how warlocks two hundred years ago couldn’t hit the chamber pot either.

Cassandra probably wouldn’t have let me work on that anyway, since the ottomans were too heavy for her telly and I had Strength. Which didn’t change how hot and sweaty the work was.

There was a sudden ding that seemed to come from everywhere around us.

“Will the Blackwood coven please report to the Quad immediately,” Willowmere’s announcement magic said.

“We didn’t do anything!” Sam’s somewhat muted shout sounded from within the cottage.

A moment later, she and Priscilla came out of the cottage, stripping off rubber gloves.

Sam glared around at the rest of us. “Which one of you did something? I’ve been scrubbing piss-wood all morning, so I know it wasn’t me this time.” She pointed at me. “When we get the bathroom finished, you are sitting down.”

I shrugged and saw the girls all do the same.

Despite not being bound to our coven, Hannah, Brittany, and Priscilla all followed us as we made our way down the forest trail from the cottages, then around the dormitory building to the quad — maybe it was to support us, or maybe they were just curious about how we could possibly be in trouble again.

I was certain we were in trouble. The school’s announcement voice had sounded a bit annoyed.

There was a crowd of students and even some teachers on the quad, but I could tell immediately what the commotion was, because the school’s circular drive was filled with vehicles — some pretty big — but I had no idea what that might have to do with us. As we got closer, the crowd parted to make a lane with Prima Rosethorn at the end.

I was a little surprised the witches at the gate had let so many vehicles through.

“Explain!” the Prima ordered sharply, staring at Rachel — which was refreshing, since her glare was usually focused on me.

Closer to her, I was still trying to make sense of the scene.

There were over a dozen vehicles in the circle, ranging from a tiny Prius to a semi-truck pulling a flatbed trailer with pallets of tightly wrapped items. In between were two full-size RVs, three big passenger vans, four pickup trucks pulling travel trailers, and another half dozen passenger vehicles, including a red Caravan right at the top of the circle in front of Prima Rosethorn.

“Explain,” the Prima demanded again, “why there is a kumpani of —”

“Heeeellooooo, laši shuvaniya!” Mihai called, climbing out of his Caravan and hurrying over.

All along the drive, Roma were pouring out of their vehicles and streaming over to stand behind the grinning Romani rideshare driver.

“No,” Prima Rosethorn said, holding up her hands. “No! We’ve only just made the decision to allow warlocks back, we are not —”

Mihai ignored her, instead walking up to Rachel, going to one knee, and bowing his head — all the Roma behind him did the same.

“Pal o yag so hatarol thaj o drom so vakerel, amen chingare humale thaj sevavi tuke, Rachel Blackwood. Tiri zaštita te dena amen tatipe, tiri čačipe te vakerel amen, thaj i hem amari vasta, ilo, thaj jilo sen tuke te džan andre poradzipe. Te amaro vakh te ačhel nephrasto sar i roata, thaj te i jilo te ačhel so kalo opre amende. Ande tiro nav, amen džan jekhethane.[1]”

I heard enough gasps around me that it had to have been all my witches, plus a few in the surrounding crowd.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to Sam.

“Told you you had a kumpani,” Brittany said, rather smugly.

“Mihai…” Sam said. “He just pledged his kumpani to Rachel…”

“Mihai, I —” Rachel swallowed hard and licked her lips.

She shot me a look that was half pleading and half apology, but I certainly didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even know what was going on.

I shrugged and waved a hand at her.

This seemed like it was mostly between the Roma and Rachel, even if it would impact our coven in ways I didn’t understand. I decided it was Rachel’s decision, as she probably knew more about what was going on than any of the rest of us.

Rachel took a deep breath. “Pal o yag so manžen tumen thaj o drom so peren, me kabularel tumaro vakh, Mihai Bogdani. Ande mire zaštita tumenge te avel sigurnipe, thaj le mire čaroben mange te gajdel tumare drome. Sar tumare vasta, ilo, thaj jilo sen mire, sar tumen le muršipe, čačipe, thaj dikhipe sen tumare. Jekhetane, amaro vakh te ačhel sar i čerena ke kham.[2]“

“Let me guess,” I whispered to Sam. “She accepted?”

Sam nodded. “It would dishonor them to refuse.”

“Of course it would.”

Prima Rosethorn turned her glare on me. “Did you arrange this?”

I held up my hands. “I’m as surprised as you are.”

“I swear I didn’t know they were coming, Prima Rosethorn,” Rachel said. “I’ve just texted with Mihai a few times about our rides and to chat a little and…” Her eyes scanned the group. “I don’t know how this happened.”

The Roma were standing and looking around now, grinning.

“Where cottage?” Mihai asked. “We fix.”

Prima Rosethorn’s eyes went wide and she spun on Rachel. “You told a Rom you needed home repairs?”

Mihai turned to her nodding and grinning. “You need too?” He eyed the Willowmere buildings. “Roof? Driveway?” He gestured back down the drive. “Dead tree back there. Very bad. We take out? Family price, very good deal!”

“No!” Prima Rosethorn said quickly. “Willowmere asks you to do nothing, do you understand? Any business you have on this campus is solely with them, am I clear? They are responsible!” Her eyes went wider and she suddenly dashed away into the crowd of students who’d been edging closer to the now-standing Roma. “No! You there! Yes, you! Back away from the girl!”

Ding! The school announcement system chimed. “All students are to return to their classrooms or the residence building immediately!”

The crowd of students grumbled, but eventually the girls dispersed back into the buildings — not before I noticed a few waves between witches and the Romani men.

By the time the Prima returned from separating Willowmere girls from Romani guys, Mel had arrived.

“If you so much as giggle,” Prima Rosethorn told Mel, “there will be consequences.”

Mel shrugged. “It’s none of my doing, Evelina.”

“This is all of your doing, Melaina. There hasn’t been a kumpani on campus since…” She glared at me. “Since before there were no warlocks.”

Mel somehow managed to keep her face sober, but I could tell it was an effort.

“That would make sense, Evelina, since the school charter only addresses kumpani pledged to a bound witch — which we appear to have again.”

The Prima sighed and looked around at the band of Roma, then at Rachel. “There is a side road off the drive … very near the dead tree your man mentioned. It will lead them to the campsites, which they will receive no staff assistance in clearing. Please make it very clear to them that the main campus itself is off limits — I’ll be holding you —” Her gaze ran over us. “— all of you, responsible for them.”

“Girls!” the Prima yelled, spinning around and stalking off toward a couple of the girls who were still smiling at the Roma with cocked heads. “Residence! Now!”

Chapter

“Are you mad?” Rachel asked. “I didn’t plan it, so I don’t think I should get a spanking.”

“I’m not mad,” I told her. “Nobody’s getting spanked — I just don’t understand what’s going on.”

The Roma had taken the afternoon to settle in, then invited us to a party.

Well, most of them had taken time to settle into their new campground — Mihai and five others had come to the cottage after lunch. Two of the men, under the direction of one of the Romani women, had started moving the ottomans back into the cottage while another woman went through the rolls and boxes of material we had piled up, asking question after question of the girls through Rachel’s translation.

Mihai and another man had spent a couple hours examining the cottage from roof to foundation, taking copious notes and asking more questions of the girls. He also spent some time examining a shutter I’d tried to fix. One of the hinges had come loose and we didn’t have any screws, just a box of nails, so I’d tried that, thinking I’d start the real renovations with something small and easy.

Mihai just shook his head and had one of his guys add it to a list.

“We have a kumpani,” Cassandra said. “It’s very cool.”

We were making our way through the forest on an overgrown trail. The only reason I knew it was a trail was because Rachel told me it was the trail to the Romani camps.

“But what does it mean?”

“We help each other,” Rachel said.

“How?”

“Mihai drives us, he and his men guard Morgan, whatever we need. Then we — mostly me, I guess — help his clan with magic.”

“It’s a good thing,” Sam told me. “An amazing thing — I can’t even remember when the last kumpanivin broke up.”

“Eighteen thirty-seven,” Rachel said. “At least in the US. It lasted longer in Europe. Grandma says the Roma were pissed, because they’d come all the way here and then things went to shit.” She shrugged. “Grandma says.”

It was just the four of us, even though Priscilla, Hannah, and Brittany all wanted to come, as Prima Rosethorne had made it clear only my coven was allowed anywhere near the Romani camp.

I could hear music and catch glimpses of a large fire ahead of us, and I started to catch glimpses of the camp.

We came out of the trees into a large clearing. Much of it was overgrown, with long grass and even a few saplings, but the Roma had already cleared much of it, setting up a camp around a central fire pit.

“Heeelllooo, laši shuvaniya!”

Mihai met us a few yards from the group gathered around the fire and held out his hand.

“Te aves baxtalo, phral baro.”

“Thaj tume, phral.”

Mihai grinned, reaching behind him as he released my hand.

I was a little concerned, because that’s where he kept his big dirk, but what he pulled out was a yellow, plastic, toy hammer.

I frowned as Mihai offered it to me.

“I see your work on cottage, brother,” Mihai said. “Start smaller.”

I had something ready, but decided to save it for another time, because Mihai’s roast was just too good. I accepted the toy hammer from him and bowed my head.

“I have no words to respond, brother,” I said, holding the hammer to my chest. “I will treasure this as a reminder of your cleverness.”

Mihai laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, guiding me toward the fire.

“Come, brother, rakia will give you words.”

Turned out rakia was alcohol — a sort of golden-colored, plum brandy served in tiny glasses that almost looked like small flower vases. Only a couple inches tall, with a bulb-shaped bottom that narrowed then flared out again at the top. A Romani woman came by with a tray, nodding and smiling at us, and we all took one.

“Sip,” Rachel whispered.

Sam nodded. “It’s not a shot — savor it.”

I nodded back and sniffed at the glass.

The scent was rich and fruity; intense with an earthy undertone. I had barely a moment to think about how Mel’s wine-schooling had me noticing things like that, before Mihai raised his glass and another Romani woman followed the one passing out the not-shots. She had circlets of woven willow-branches looped around her arms and smiled as she came to our group and slapped one on each of our heads.

“Živeli!” he yelled, then downed his as the rest of the Roma followed suit.

“Živeli!” the girls yelled back, downing theirs as well.

“It’s a toast.” Sam shrugged. “Sip the next one.”

“Živeli!” I yelled, raising the glass to Mihai and pouring it into my mouth.

The first taste was fruity — smooth and tasting like I’d just bit into a ripe fruit — with an almost syrupy texture. Then a fiery sensation coated my tongue and I got a hint of almond-like bitterness along with a touch of cinnamon, before it burned its way down my throat, leaving a lingering heat that spread out across my chest.

It wasn’t harsh at all, but it was intense.

Romani women were moving among the crowd with jugs, refilling everyone’s glasses. I held mine out, then took a small sip. Others were carrying platters of bread, fruit, and cheese, with some thinly sliced meats.

“Come, brother,” Mihai said. “Let us speak together.”

I nodded and followed him toward a log near the fire.

“Pace yourself,” Cassandra whispered. “It’s stronger than you think.”

I glanced behind me, but Cassandra was already gone, along with Sam and Rachel. The girls were moving off into the crowd, joining the Romani women while someone started playing music — several someones, actually, as I saw a violin, a clarinet, and a guitar before the players were hidden behind the fire and I sat with Mihai.

“Mihai,” I said once we were sitting, “I’m very confused about what happened today. Rachel explained your pledge to her, to us, but —”

Mihai held up a hand. “I ask forgiveness, brother, for not speaking to you before.” He took a deep breath. “O vrama rodel sar grast bi laso. Time moved like a horse with no reins these last days — first with my baro and then with your Bibi Khashni.” He grinned. “I thought in moments she would make us leave.”

“Who — what? Prima Rosethorn? What’s bee-bee.”

“Ah…” He frowned. “Mother’s sister?”

“Aunt?”

Mihai nodded. “Yes, aunt. Aunt who —” He started tapping his fingers against his thumb rapidly — that hand-puppet talking motion — and scowling. “— always grr-grr-grr.”

“Angry?”

“Little, but always,” Mihai said, nodding more.

“Cranky?”

Mihai grinned.

“Cranky Auntie?”

Another grinning nod.

“Maybe, not call her that where she can hear — fuck!” I looked around, behind us, overhead. “— that’s everywhere here. Just … don’t. Don’t call her that here. Or … twenty, thirty mile radius, just to be safe.” I frowned. “I appreciate being rushed and all, but could you explain now? I’m pretty lost here.”

Mihai laughed and pointed to his ear. “I have ears to hear, brother. Always you are asking your shuvaniya to explain.” He took a deep breath. “Since we first met and the pretty witch danced the Ederlezi, I have thought a thing. I have spoken to the others about my thought, and sought the guidance of elders. I spoke to our baro, our headman, our leader, you understand?”

“I thought you were the leader, I mean you’re the one who —”

“Patience, brother. Words are like steps on a road, they must be endured one after another to reach the journey’s end.”

Shut up and listen — not my first rodeo.

“My baro does not listen, but I tell others.” He waved a hand at the group. “When I return two days ago, he sees the new, fine car and tells me, ‘You are too much with these shuvaniya. Roma and shuvaniya have no ties and never will again.’ I said to him, ‘These are different. They are not the shuvaniya of today.’” He spat to one side. “Not these Chorofamìlja — families of thieves, taking from all with nothing in return.”

Mihai shrugged.

“Still he does not believe. He says to me I must not drive for you. I must not see you. I must abandon the pretty witch.” He sighed. “I tell him o drom pherel sa o vrama — the road changes with the time, and I have seen it.”

He pointed to an older woman, now talking to Cassandra and Rachel. Sam had joined in the serving, carrying a tray of cheese around the fire.

“I say to him, ‘Daj Drina has seen this, as well.’ She sees beyond the firelight and what she sees gives hope.” Mihai looked down and shook his head. “Still he will not believe, so I must say to him, amare drom si aver — our road is different now. We must part.”

That was … big. He’d left his whole group over us? Yeah, we were different than the Families — and I kind of liked the families of thieves name for them — but this?

“You left your kumpani?” I asked.

That had to be a huge deal, even with as little as I knew about Romani culture.

Mihai shook his head, smiling, and spread his arms to take in those around the fire.

“This is my kumpani, brother. All who heard my words and believe the road is turning. All now follow me as baro.”

He gripped my shoulder hard.

“I have seen your heart, brother, and we will walk this road with you.”

*

We sat in silence for a while — Mihai grinning and me trying to come to grips with what he’d just said. A coven of thirteen witches was hard enough to grasp, but now we were partnered with a kumpani of Roma?

I noticed the music change — going softer and quieter as those who’d been standing and milling about took seats. The pitchers and trays of food stopped making the rounds, and Sam sat down beside me, using the pitcher she held to top off my glass, as well as Mihai’s. Then Cassandra was on my other side, Mihai scooting down the log to make room, and the Roma began to sing.

Sa o Roma daje

Sa o Roma bahtale

Sa o Roma daje

Sa o Roma bahtale

Rachel wrapped her hands around me from behind, resting her chin on my shoulder and whispering.

“All the Roma, mother

All the Roma are blessed

All the Roma, mother

All the Roma are blessed”

Sam and Cassandra pressed against my sides as the Roma continued to sing.

Avela baxtalo o Del

Avela baxtalo o Del

Sa o Roma daje

Sa o Roma bahtale

“God will bring good fortune

God will bring good fortune

All the Roma, mother

All the Roma are blessed,” Rachel whispered.

The song started repeating and I found my foot tapping with the beat.

“That’s the refrain, like, the chorus,” Rachel whispered.

“I’ve heard about this,” Sam whispered, “but I never thought I’d see it.”

The singing went on, repeating over and over until the old woman Mihai had said was named Daj Drina stepped out of the crowd. When the last line of the refrain ended, the Roma stopped singing, and her surprisingly clear voice filled the night.

Rachel’s breath tickled my ear as she translated the words.

“We walked with witches, side by side

Fire to fire, no need to hide

Their circles and our wheels turned as one

Beneath the moon, beneath the sun.”

Daj Drina stepped back as the refrain was sung again by the group, then a man stepped into the firelight.

“Then stone houses rose, and hearts turned cold

They took new names and bartered gold

They called it Family, we called it loss

And left our friends upon their cross.”

“How old is the song?” I whispered.

“The refrain is old,” Sam said. “The rest is new.”

“Brand new,” Cassandra said.

“Ederlezi is more than a song,” Rachel whispered. “It's an oral tradition where each singer adds their own truth in verse, tying personal memory to a shared past. The refrain binds them together, but the verses are living history, carried voice to voice, fire to fire.

“We Roma sing what is in our hearts this night,” Mihai whispered as the refrain went on again.

Every time a Rom stepped back from the fire, the refrain was sung again and someone new stepped forward.

“The roads grew quiet, the fire dim

No witch sang songs, no coven kin

We begged the stars, but none replied

Their temples stood — but their souls died.”

A young Rom stepped forward and his strong baritone seemed to form one with the beat.

“I was a child around the flame

Heard tales of witches, without name

Elders sang of oaths, well-kept

And roads I thought I’d never step.”

Now a Rom entered the firelight and pointed at Mihai.

“But one stood still where others ran

Not marked by blood, but by the land

He bore the weight and spoke the truth

And in his eyes, we saw our youth.”

And the next waved her hand at us.

“Not every circle broke the thread

Some lit lamps and wept instead

Now daughters flame where ashes glowed

And walk again the old, shared road.”

My chest tightened as I realized where the Roma were going. I’d come here thinking we were making allies. But they weren’t allies — they were family. And they were singing us into their story.

Daj Drina returned and looked at us — not past us, not through us, but right into us. Her nod was almost imperceptible. But it was enough.

“Now wheel and circle meet again

The fire lit — not if, but when

The road turns forward, not to wrath

And we shall walk a better path.”

[1]. By the fire that warms, and the road that speaks, we give our word and offer our service to you, Rachel Blackwood. Your protection will grant us safety, your wisdom will guide us, and so too will our hands, our hearts, and our spirits be yours to walk beside in loyalty. May our bond hold unbroken like the wheel, and may the spirit of it rise like the sun above us. In your name, we go together.

[2]. By the fire you honor, and the road you walk, I accept your vow, Mihai Bogdani. Under my protection you shall have safety, and with my magic I will guide your paths. As your hands, your heart, and your spirit are given to me, so too are my strength, my truth, and my sight given to you. Together, may our bond endure like the stars beneath the sun.