I would know that if I had bothered to look at the menu, but I’ve been glued to Zagiri’s journal for the past twenty minutes.
“Oh, sorry. A salad that’s more than lettuce but less than anything taco-related. Pick your favorite and add double the feta.”
The waitress scribbles in her notepad. “I can make that happen.”
When she walks off, I continue reading, trying to make sense of the equations that are well beyond anything I learned in high school. “Are you two making heads or tails of this stuff? I really don’t know what any of this does.”
“Sargis would know,” Avet rules, sipping on his soda. “He’s into all that science stuff.”
Sevan snorts at Avet’s phrasing. “Don’t say ‘science stuff’ like you have no idea about any of it. You’re a witch, cutie pie. You make potions all the time.”
Avet shakes his head. “Not like this. This isn’t any potion I’ve heard of, and most of this is math, not science. Witches and chemists may sound like they do similar things, but the studies are vastly different.”
Sevan massages her temples, as if Avet is giving her a headache. “The two subjects go hand in hand. You’re letting your low self-esteem get the better of you. It’s clouding your mind and keeping you from really giving this an honest look. Keran and I don’t have your natural talent for potions. Even if we could master the science and math portions, the magic of it is entirely yours. It gives you an edge you’re pretending you don’t have.”
“I’m not pretending, okay?” Avet’s nostrils flare when he gestures to the journal as if it has given him attitude. “You don’t get it. If this was a straight-up potion, I could understand it, or at least try. But this is more science and math than magic. Do you see any chanting? Any spells? That’s how it would be in my realm of understanding. I dropped out of high school, Sev. This is all book stuff that I didn’t learn.”
Sevan jabs her finger toward the front of the restaurant. “I am this close to throwing you through that window. Get your head on straight, Avet. This isn’t a normal science journal. There are half-spells in here. Look at this one.” She points to two words on a page. “I’ve heard you say that before.”
Avet spreads his hands out aimlessly. “Sure, but that’s the first two words of a chant. It’s not the whole thing. And it could do one of three different things, depending on what herbs she combined, none of which are written anywhere on this page.” He leans his head back. “I’m telling you, this is a mess. It’s a bunch of math and science that’s way above my head, and half-spells that are too jumbled to make sense of.” He lowers his voice. “I hate to be the one to say it, but this isn’t the mark of a breakthrough. I know you’re convinced that Cher and Taline were using this journal to try and undo a vampire’s curse, but that’s not what this is.”
I frown at Avet. “Then what is it?”
He wears a look of pity now, staring at the journal with compassion. “These are the ramblings of a mind gone wrong. Dollars to donuts, if we do more digging into Zagiri, we’ll find that she’s got a complicated past with a vampire and is looking to undo what can’t be undone using the tools at her disposal. There’s no hint that Zagiri was a witch. Sargis would have told us that she came from witching blood. She couldn’t do these spells if she wanted to. Even if they did make sense, which they don’t.”
Sevan’s shoulders sink, but I am not convinced. “So what if Zagiri wasn’t a witch? She can’t cast spells, but she’s not useless.”
Avet sighs. “You’re not useless, Keran. You’re one of the most intuitive trappers I know.”
I roll my eyes at him. “I’m not projecting. I’m not talking about myself. I’m saying that if I was motivated to come up with a potion or spell or whatever to undo the effects of the vampire’s curse, I could learn the spells. Same way you did, only more academic.”
Avet frowns. “You could buy books on the subject, sure, but nothing would happen if you cast the spell. You have to have witching blood in your DNA, or you’ve made nothing more than a mess. A grenade with no pin. A bow with no arrows.”
Sevan straightens beside me. “But she could put the pieces together, even if she couldn’t master them. People make potions for witches all the time, and bring them to a witch to make them effective.” She stabs her finger to a page that has an intimidating calculation on it. “Zagiri was pre-med, right?”
I nod. “That’s what Anna said.”
“Then she used her smarts to figure out a potion and did enough digging to combine her science with a spell. But because she’s not a witch, she couldn’t make it come to fruition.”
My heart races as I pull out my tablet. “No one talk until I figure this out.” I know it’s high maintenance, but I don’t care. I am on the cusp of connecting dots; I can feel it. I just need the space to let my brain get there without interruption.
Avet is used to me, so he complies, while Sevan inches closer to me so she can travel along with my train of thought.
Citrus and vanilla. Doggone, Sevan smells like a dream.
Not important. Not the least bit important.
I start with a regular search on Zagiri, but it’s such a common name that it takes me a few minutes before I narrow in on our girl.
Prizes. Awards. Mostly science related. But so many for someone so young. A full-ride scholarship. A commendation for her volunteer work at the recycling plant in her hometown for her work helping them get a handle on their carbon footprint.
She is a motivated girl, that’s for sure.
But in each of the photos, she is either alone or accompanied by a grizzled older man.
Orphaned, just like many of us who take on the mantle of becoming a trapper.
I glance across the table, connecting my gaze with Avet’s green eyes. “Zagiri and her grandfather have brown eyes. There isn’t any witch DNA in her blood.”