Downpour - peterparkerpanic - The Owl House (Cartoon) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1: an adventure

Chapter Text

There was something about the rain, Luz thought. Not her rain – she’d always loved the rain in the human world, cold and comforting. But the rain in the witches’ world, with its ability to burn everything it touched, made her feel… on edge.

Something bad always happened in the rain.

Example one: the first time she’d ever experienced the rain, she’d run head-first into the death trap – and then had somehow learnt about Eda’s curse, been running from the Snaggleback, and almost lost King (the last one wasn’t actually that major, but in the moment, it had been terrifying.) Example two: the night before Willow lost her memories, and her and Amity had to do that whole jump-into-her-head-and-try-not-to-die thing, it had rained. Heavily. And example number three: every time she had to go back to the human world, it rained (which was obviously a bad sign.)

Conclusion? The rain brought bad happenings.

She’d been in-between the human world and the real world for two years now; spending Monday to Friday with Eda at Hexside, and visiting her Mom over the weekends. Mom had even come to visit Eda, once – and although they’d got along a little too well, she’d stated that she felt much safer in the human world, where there wasn’t stuff like killer spells, and killer demons, and killer… rain. Understandable.

“I don’t like the rain,” she’d told Eda, once last year, as Eda was trying to teach Luz how to put up a forcefield.

“Why not?” Eda asked casually, successfully putting a bubble around the house. Luz tried – but her own magic only formed a tiny orange field around her hand. It was definitely the rain’s fault.

“I don’t know,” Luz said, ducking into the Owl House. “It just… gives me a bad feeling.”

On that day, it was raining. In her head, Luz had been calling it acid-rain (which was weird, because to witches, this was normal rain – they’d never had the nice, human stuff.) She was lying on her bed, on her back, both enjoying the familiar pitter-patter, and trying to ignore it. King had been tucked into her side, curled up into a prawn-like ball.

Oh, yeah. Reason number 4 why she hated rain: you can’t do anything when it’s raining.

Luz let out a loud sigh to the high ceiling of her bedroom, half expecting the breath to visualize itself as dragon’s air, curling up until it dissipated above her. For one, she was glad that Hooty didn’t really come and bother her in the rain, lest he risk exiting the forcefield and burning himself; but another part of her desperately wished for company. There was only so much one person could do to distract themselves – and Luz was all glyph’ed out. And, even if she wanted to practice her magic, the fifty-or-so magical balls of light above her were the only spell safe enough to do indoors.

“I’m bored,” she said, to herself, and King, and the open air. As if in response, King nestled himself further into her side, chasing the warmth. She could always go and hassle Eda, she supposed – but Eda was busy enough, what with the depleted magic after putting up so large a forcefield, and the cooking lessons she’d recently taken up. Camilia had sent Luz back to Eda one Monday morning with a series of human cooking books, for Spanish food – somehow believing that the problems with Eda’s cooking merely lay in the fact that Eda was white, rather than the fact that she burnt everything she touched. But Eda had returned the gift with witch-cookbooks of her own, and both were valiantly trying to make out-of-the-box recipes for Luz.

They hadn’t outright said it, but Luz expected they were in some sort of competition. Luz loved her mama’s cooking, but Eda was trying her best (and, y’know, teaching Luz magic) so she kept up the façade that they were both winning.

So… what to do?

She couldn’t text her friends – she’d never gotten a Scroll-phone that everybody seemed to use here, because it required a certain magic she just didn’t have. And she didn’t have any human-friends, so her human phone was just for her mom.

[I’m bored], she texted her mom. And then, [:(.]

[Read a book, mija!] came her mom’s, albeit predictable, response. [I miss you.]

[Miss you too.] Luz sent, before throwing her phone half-heartedly across the room and groaning dramatically. She didn’t want to read a book; she wanted the rain to end, so she could go see her friends, and go on an adventure, or something.

Yeah, Luz thought to herself, absentmindedly stroking under King’s shell. She wanted an adventure. Full of magic, and quests, and danger, and her friends, and-

And a knock on the door.

That wasn’t usually how magic quests began.

Luz sat up, and the balls of light dissipated at her sudden loss of concentration. King yowled at the loss of heat, but curled further in on himself. Had she imagined the knock?

Another knock. But it couldn’t be – and in all this rain, too. Luz hated the acid-rain, because it always brought bad things. Who would be stupid enough to walk all the way out to the Owl House, of all places, in such horrible weather?

Luz stood, brushing imaginary lint from her outfit. Well, she supposed it was a little unconventional, as far as adventure-starts went – but she had been hoping.

“Eda!” Luz yelled as she barreled down the stairs, almost running into the kitchen. There weren’t even any windows – they couldn’t check who the visitor was beforehand. “Was that a knock on the door?”

Eda looked slightly frazzled – hand-deep in some sort of pot of ingredients, looking confused at either Luz’s question, or merely her presence. “I don’t know, was it?” She asked. “Maybe it was just thunder.”

There was a third knock, and Luz raised her eyebrows at Eda, mouth curling upwards. “Should I answer?” Luz asked. “Do you think it’ll be a murderer?”

“We don’t need to worry about murderers,” Eda chuckled. “And we know Snaggleback’s aren’t that scary. I’d open it, but…” she lifted her hands, covered in a green-gray goop.

Luz nodded, steeling herself. She was sixteen, and mature, and a well-versed witch, by this point. She could open a front door. Maybe this was the adventure – there’d be a mysterious witch at the door, offering her fame and glory for a dangerous quest. Or it could be a pixie, who’d heard about the most powerful witch in all the land, and her apprentice, and had come to beg for their help to save a village.

She opened the door. Thunder and lightning split the sky. And there stood… Amity.

The rain was burning everything around her, but Luz’s eyes were caught on Amity – cheeks far more flushed than Luz had ever seen them, panting softly and barely holding up her own umbrella-like forcefield to prevent herself from getting burnt. The acid rain bit at her feet, which were turned in on each other, and added to the feeling of her hunched-over shoulders – that Amity looked small, and flustered, and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry,” Amity began, a tremor on her lips that Luz wanted to, but couldn't, discount to the cold. “I didn’t know where else to go. Can I stay?”

At a closer glance, Amity was shivering in her school uniform – there was no bag on her back, which was weird, because Amity always came prepared. “Of course,” Luz said, voice scratchy from the shock piled upon how she hadn’t spoken for a couple hours. “Are you cold? Want a blanket, or something?”

Luz moved out of the doorway, gesturing for Amity to come in – but it was impossible not to notice how Amity eyed the doorway as if it were a danger to her, before entering.

“What was it?” Eda called from the kitchen. “A delivery?”

“It was Amity,” Luz called back, eyes not leaving her green-haired friend. “Um – one second.”

Luz left Amity in the room for a moment, poking her head into the kitchen.

“Do we have enough food for one more tonight?” She asked quietly, hoping Amity wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

Eda was chopping some sort of meat, hands still covered in that green mush. “Amity?” She asked softly. “She walked?”

“It looks like it,” Luz said, a frown causing her face to crease slightly. “It’s raining outside, though.”

Eda pondered for a second, before grabbing a can Luz had brought from the human world, and adding it to the pot. “Set another place at the table,” Eda commanded, moving to take a glance at the cook-book. “I’ll make it work. And make her some hot stag juice, maybe?”

With a nod, Luz backed out of the room, to see Amity still standing by the now-closed door, arms crossed over her chest and eyes on the floor. “Are you cold?” Luz asked again, rushing to grab Amity a blanket off the living room couch. “Hungry, maybe? We’ll eat soon, but we have snacks.”

Amity shook her head at the mention of food, nose wrinkling slightly, but graciously accepted the blanket. It wasn’t summer anymore, and the school uniform didn’t prevent the deep chill of the evening air from seeping in. Plus, Luz was assuming Amity hadn’t been able to keep up the forcefield and have enough leftover magic energy to cast a heating spell… so she must be freezing.

“How about some hot stag beetle juice?” Luz walked into the living room, glad when Amity followed. To be honest, Luz didn’t really understand the drink – it was juice named after a bug for its unpleasant colour, and was textured a little like watery yoghurt – but, apparently, to witches with a magic pouch, it was like medicine. Very useful and very, very comforting.

There were bags under Amity’s eyes, Luz noted as they sat down. Deep, and gaunt against her pale skin. Luz had never seen Amity as anything but the perfect-student type front she put forwards; she’d broken out of it a couple times, sure – what with the library’s softness, and the grudgby competitiveness. But never like… this.

“I’ll get that, then,” Luz nodded to herself once Amity didn’t answer, concern gnawing at her stomach. “You’re sure you’re not hungry?”

Amity mouthed the word, ‘no’, but it was as if her voice had just left her – or it was too weak to be heard. Luz hurried to the kitchen, wanting to offer Amity all the comfort in the world. She hated seeing her friend like this.

Rain always brought bad things. First the curse, then the mind-swipe, and now… a broken Amity.

“You making stag juice?” Eda asked.

“Yeah,” said Luz, checking the cup’s temperature with the back of her hand. “It should help, right?”

“It’ll help.” Eda said confidently, reaching for a witch-grater (wildly different shape, but same purpose – plus the witch name was far too long to remember.) “And, hey – get King.”

King. Of course – he was feisty when awake, but a sleepy King was nothing but a walking ball of affection. Amity had to like cuddles. Everybody liked cuddles.

She picked up the mug as soon as it was hot enough, rushing back into the living room. “Here,” Luz said. Amity reached for the mug, drawing it close to her chest – as if she were using it for heat, rather than its medicinal properties. Maybe she wanted to inhale it for a while – or her hands were just cold.

King had apparently wandered downstairs since Luz had left him, and was curled up by Amity’s thigh – a picture of perfect innocence. That was good, she supposed.

Except, it left her with nothing to do.

Amity’s eyes were unfocussed – on some patch of carpet just beyond her untouched mug. She was breathing steadily (Luz could only tell because the quilted blanket was rising and falling in time with her breaths), but she still looked… empty.

Luz took a tentative seat besides Amity, making sure they weren’t touching in any way. She ached to help – but she didn’t know how. Honestly, Luz felt useless.

So she watched, as Amity focused on that patch of carpet, tentatively taking a sip of the stag juice, and hoped that her presence was enough.

“I-“ Amity began after half a cup of the juice had disappeared. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Luz asked. Amity’s voice was still little above a whisper, but at least she’d regained the strength to speak.

“For letting me in, I guess,” Amity said. Her eyes dropped to the mug, and her lower lip quivered. “I-“

She cut herself off, because her voice was unsteady – and Luz’s heart felt like it was about to shatter.

She wanted to ask what was wrong, desperately – she wanted to find out how she could help. But Luz knew she could be… a little much in the best of times, so it would be better if she stayed quiet. She needed to be whatever Amity needed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Luz asked tentatively. “Or not, if you don’t want to – we could just sit, like we’ve been doing, and stuff, I don’t mind, you-“

“Luz.” Amity’s voice was still weak, but her tone was stern enough that Luz silenced. “Can you talk?”

“Oh, sure,” Luz said. “About what?”

Amity shrugged, eyes drifting over to Luz. “Whatever you want to,” Amity said. This was the first time Luz had looked into Amity’s eyes since she’d shown up. A while ago, she was sure Amity had been about to cry – and even now, there was a deep sadness Luz couldn’t even hope to understand behind the amber. Amity looked tired, and fragile, and so un-Amity like it made Luz want to punch somebody. Whoever hurt her.

“Okay,” Luz said, clearing her throat and having to drop her eyes for some reason – the eye contact was too intense. “So, Eda’s been trying to learn to cook for a couple months now – she’s actually competing with my mom…”

* * *

Luz talked for a long time before Eda announced food was ready. At some point in her ramblings, which covered everything from her time in the human world to what she’d had for dinner the night before, King had wandered off into the kitchen, probably to offer his support. Luz had honestly expected Amity to, at some point, get tired of her voice, and tell her to stop, because the quiet was better than listening to Luz drone on about the difference between human and witch pancakes. But that time never came.

Eda always sat at the head of the table, and King at the bottom. So Luz settled into the middle, close enough to Amity that, if she wanted, she could reach out and hold her hand. She had a perfect view of Amity as she adjusted the quilt, still around her shoulders, and put the stag juice down by the side of her plate.

“Right,” Eda said, bringing the large pot of food into the room. “Humans call this stuff ‘gazpacho’, but I didn’t have some of the stuff I needed, so it might be a bit off.”

Luz took a spoonful, and wrinkled her nose slightly at the colour. Her mom’s gazpacho had always been a reddish orange, but this stuff was a deep green, almost black. “Smells good,” she said to Eda with a forced smile.

She watched as Amity served herself silently. Amity wasn’t really an extroverted person, but from what Luz had grown to know about her, she was usually very respectful – especially to adult figures. Luz could comfort her all she wanted in the living room, where it was just the two of them, but here was different.

“This doesn’t look very good, Eda!” King said with a frown (well, as much of a frown as his face could twist into.)

Eda shot him a glare, before serving herself. “Alright,” she said with a loud clearing of her throat. “Dig in, I guess.”

Amity’s eyes widened slightly, but she obeyed, dipping a spoon into the questionable substance. Luz watched as she took a little bit, nose wrinkling again. She expected Amity to put her spoon down – feign that she wasn’t hungry, or that she was feeling ill, because that was what Luz did when Eda’s cooking was horrible – but she continued eating.

Luz took a spoonful for herself, wincing at the taste. It was nothing like her mother’s recipe.

“Damn,” Eda said, sniffing suspiciously at the spoonful. “This stuff smells disgusting.”

“Amity,” Luz said softly to her friend, who was still eating. “You don’t have to eat it if it isn’t nice.”

Amity’s eyes were wide – and she looked to Eda, then back to Luz. Slowly, she put her spoon down.

“Well I think it’s great!” King was chuckling, eating straight from the bowl (his claws weren’t very cutlery-friendly.)

“You can have it, then,” said Eda, pushing her bowl away. “Now… we’ve got that thing Luz’s mom sent her with last Sunday, or we can hope that a delivery place is open, even though it’s raining. What do we think?”

“It’s a Tuesday,” Luz frowned. “Don’t you want to save it for later in the week?”

“Yeah, but it’s raining, kid,” Eda made a gesture to one of the windows, where the slightly yellowed drops were falling to the already-shriveled grass. “Okay. Give me ten minutes, I’ll use a heating spell, and we can eat some good food.”

Eda got up, taking her bowl – and the large pot of the almost-gazpacho – back into the kitchen. Luz stood, expecting to go and sit in the living room whilst they waited. Amity’s eyes were still fixated on her plate.

“Amity?” Luz asked. “You want to wait in the living room?”

“But – I haven’t finished eating,” Amity said with a confused frown. “Eda – you…”

“The food’s inedible,” Luz chuckled softly – but Amity didn’t seem to find the joke funny. “I mean, Eda’s experimenting! Some recipes just don’t go to plan – and we don’t have to eat them.”

Amity stood, eyeing her bowl one more time. She followed Luz out.

* * *

“How did you even walk here?” Luz asked the moment they sat down, Luz sinking into the couch, Amity perched on the edge, adjusting the blanket. “I mean – yeah, the forcefield works, but the Blight manor is ages away from here – especially if you walk.”

Amity shrugged, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” she said quietly.

“But-“ Luz cut herself off. She’d been sympathetic towards Amity, but now she was itching for answers, so that she could help. It wasn’t her place to know; but Amity had come here, to her, of all places. Didn’t that count towards something?

Amity was still sat on the edge of the sofa, at least a foot away from Luz. “C’mon, Amity,” Luz encouraged, sitting forwards a little. “You know you can trust me with anything, right?”

With a soft sigh, Amity nodded in Luz’s direction. Luz felt like that was all she would get out of her.

“Well,” Luz started, “guess I’ll talk again. Where was I before dinner? Oh – so then Willow bought the hat, but Gus was all like…”

* * *

They ate dinner. Some potato dish Camilia used to make in the summer, when her mom had friends around for barbecues, and such. It was nice, but filling; Luz left a third of her plate.

Amity ate every single bite.

* * *

“So…” Luz cleared her throats. “You should stay the night. I mean – you’re welcome to stay the night, but you know, the rain…”

They were up in Luz’s bedroom (Eda, for some reason, set Amity on edge – so she’d been instructing Luz on what to do from a distance.) Luz had supplies for another bed – enough blankets that, if she layered them properly, could constitute for a sleeping bag, and a large fluffy pillow that just sat, unused. When Amity had shown up, Luz was pretty sure she’d said she ‘didn’t know where else to go’ – which probably meant this was the closest place to shelter from the rain, which meant her parents couldn’t come and pick her up.

Luz had known Amity for as long as she’d been coming to the witch realm, now – a little over two years, and counting. And, as much as Luz had made friends (Willow, Gus, those kids in the detention track), Amity had always kept herself somewhat reserved. Luz had many fond memories with Amity – like Grom, or the time they won that Grudgby match – but Amity was jumpy, and cautious, and so frugal with her time that Luz barely saw her outside of the school and the library.

She was pretty sure Amity had only been to the Owl House a handful of times – and yet knew where it was perfectly. So perfectly that she was able to find it in a storm?

“Alright,” Luz said. Amity, not for the first time that evening, remained silent. “I guess I’ll just… make you a bed, then?”

She got to work, piling the blankets, trying to ignore that Amity was just sort of… watching her. The task was easy, and Luz’s shuffling filled the silence, until there was a second bed, within arm’s reach of Luz’s own. “There,” Luz said, brushing her hands off and smiling triumphantly. “Now, I can get you some more hot stag beetle juice, or just some water, and we can go to sleep, if that’s what you want.”

“Some water sounds nice,” said Amity.

“Of course!” Luz nodded enthusiastically. “And you can borrow some pajamas, too – because you don’t have a bag, and school uniform would be very uncomfortable.”

She dug those out; a comfortable matching set of dark green, not unlike Amity’s hair, and walked downstairs to grab two glasses of water.

Eda was in the living room with King, reading one of the Azura books (it had taken two years of pestering – but Eda was on book 5 when Luz walked past. “You going to bed?” She asked Luz.

“Yeah,” Luz said. “It’s early, but Amity looked tired – so we’ll just go to sleep, I think.”

“Okay,” Eda nodded, returning to her page. “If you can, find out what’s bothering Amity. Maybe we can help.”

“Yeah.”

“Night, kid.”

“Goodnight, Eda,” Luz responded.

Walking up the stairs was a slow and daunting task, with two glasses full of water – but she reached the top, pushing into her room. Amity had taken the opportunity to change, and Luz’s green trousers were slightly long on her, pooling around her feet. Huh. Luz supposed she had grown a little since she’d started coming to the witch realm, but she had always assumed everybody else was growing, too.

“Right, then,” Luz put the glasses down besides their beds. “Do you want to wash your face? Borrow a toothbrush?”

Amity nodded, and together, they walked into the bathroom, where Eda’s fifty or so different skin and hair products cluttered the counter. “Sorry for the mess,” Luz chuckled, picking up a few glass things in one hand before shoving the plastic to one side. “Eda’s very… picky. And King is too, actually – he says his fur has to be soft.”

Amity was smiling softly. In the mirror, Luz’s eyes got caught on the site; before she had to blink the weird haze away. “A brand-new toothbrush,” Luz said, handing it to Amity, “and a face wash. This is my one.”

“It’s a body wash,” Amity observed.

“So? Your face is part of your body.”

Amity let out a short breath through her nose in amusem*nt, before turning on the tap. She pulled her hair out of her face, tying the rest of it up at the base of her neck.

Huh. Luz had never seen Amity with any other hairstyle than the half-up quiff thing she did for school every day. It looked… nice. Amity had very nice collarbones, and a slender, blemish-free neck, that having her hair up accentuated.

Amity bent down to wet her face, and Luz could only watch. A strange feeling washed over her.

What they were doing was so… natural. Like, Luz had lived with her mother – and then with Eda, and King – but she’d never shared a space, and seen somebody get ready for bed quite this way. She didn’t know what she was feeling – she’d never felt it before. It wasn’t unpleasant, though.

She needed to brush her teeth. She needed to stop thinking whatever the hell she was thinking about Amity, and go to bed.

And then they were in their respective ‘beds.’ Luz’s was really more of a sleeping bag, and Amity was lying on a cluster of blankets, but it worked. “Goodnight, Amity,” Luz said, pressing her head into the pillow.

They were both lying on their sides – facing each other. Luz wanted to close her eyes, but Amity was staring right at her. She wanted to cast a light spell, if only to try and see what Amity was thinking.

“Hey, Luz?” Amity asked softly. The rain was a hum in the background. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

Luz blinked. “Of course. Nobody deserves to be stuck in the rain.”

It might have been a trick of the light (or lack-of-it), but Luz could swear she saw Amity frown. “Yeah,” Amity’s voice dropped further. “Night, Luz.”

Amity rolled over, until all Luz could see was her back – and Luz couldn’t help but feel like she’d done something wrong. With the whole… weirdness of today, right up until just now, when Amity turned away from her. Now that she thought about it, Amity hadn’t even been in school today.

Luz closed her eyes, and swore to herself she’d get answers tomorrow.

Chapter 2: adjustments and assumptions

Chapter Text

When Luz awoke, she was alone. Waking was always a slow process – she preferred to lounge, and dream, until the sun was halfway through the sky – but today, she had something to do.

She turned her head. Amity was not by her side.

Instead, the ‘bed’, of sorts, compiled in a rush yesterday and made up of dozens of thin blankets, was neatly made – far neater than it had been when Luz had assembled it yesterday – with the blankets perfectly aligned at each edge. The pillow, perched right on top, was smoothed over. It was as if nobody had even slept there.

Strange. Luz stretched her arms over her head, letting out a small groan, and forced herself to stand. Her limbs, like every morning, felt heavy, and wood-like – and she was sure her hair was at ends with itself (ha – at ends, because it’s… you know what, never mind.)

She’d brush her teeth later, she decided as she took the stairs at a lazy pace, hands reaching up to brush through her hair. Without a mirror, the action was probably futile – and most days, she wouldn’t even bother (because if King spoke out, he was being a hypocrite, and Eda understood her struggles a little too well.) But Amity, with her perfect, pin-straight hair, had stayed over, and was possibly downstairs. She just… wanted to look nice. Presentable, she supposed.

“Morning!” Luz called out as she reached the bottom of the steps, another yawn escaping her. Eda’s voice filtered through from the living room, which was usually where she could be found when Luz woke up; cup of witch-coffee in one hand and stressing about something or other (for example: yesterday morning, Luz had woken to screaming – Eda had misplaced the key to one of the human items she was selling, and was accusing King for eating it, as some revenge plot. This was a normal occurrence.)

“Morning, Luz!” Eda called. “Come through here!”

Luz obeyed, walking into the living room to see Eda sitting on the sofa with Amity. Eda had an arm over the back of the sofa, the other holding an unhealthily large mug of witch-coffee to her lips, and two books placed on her crossed legs. Amity was curled up on the other side of the sofa, in the same quilted blanket Luz had offered her yesterday – although it wasn’t really necessary anymore, considering it wasn’t cold in the house. Perhaps Amity liked that it was soft – Luz had always favored the same blanket for that exact reason, after all. In fact, now that she thought about it, Amity may have never put that blanket down.

“So you’re on the abomination track,” Eda said to Amity – some continuation of a conversation they must’ve been having before Luz had arrived. “What made you pick that?”

“My parents,” Amity said. “And I’m good at it.”

Eda’s chuckle was loud, and boisterous – and apparently shocking enough that it made Amity flinch. “I see,” Eda nodded sagely, “relying on natural talent. Well back in my day, you used to be assigned your tracks; of course, that didn’t stop me from getting where I am today.”

“Um, Eda?” Luz asked. “Why are you interrogating my friend?”

“I’m not interrogating her,” Eda scoffed, taking a large gulp of the coffee. “I’m just getting to know her. You haven’t brought Amity over since that thing with Willow; lawyer me.”

“It’s ‘sue me’, Eda. A lawyer is just how you sue someone.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eda adjusted herself on the couch. “The point is the same. Now that you’re up, I assume I should start cooking?”

“Right!” Luz nodded. “Amity – you’re gonna come to school with me, right?”

Amity blinked. “What?”

“Well,” Luz pressed on, “it’s a bit of a hassle to call your parents just to pick you up – why don’t we just go straight to school?”

“But –“ Amity coughed gently, as if she’d choked on the air. “We’re going to school?”

“Well, yeah,” Luz smiled. “It’s a school day, isn’t it?”

“But,” Amity’s eyes were widening for a reason Luz couldn’t place. Her voice trailed off, until her eyes were fixed on the floor. She clutched the blanket tighter around herself, rubbing one cheek into the soft fabric.

“What, you thought we’d skip school and have a whole day sleepover together?” Luz laughed teasingly. “I take my witch lessons very seriously – and Wednesday’s my favourite day!”

“If you don’t want to go,” Eda piped in, still sat on the couch – although her tone was steady, and not unlike how Eda used to talk to Luz when she was scared. “You could always stay with me until your parents can come pick you up.”

Amity’s eyes drifted over to Eda, who had her head tipped back, chasing the last gulps of the coffee, and shook her head weakly. “I can go to school,” she said. After a moment, her nose wrinkled in a practiced manner, and she mumbled, “I’m not staying at the Owl Shack.”

“Great!” Luz exclaimed. “Now, I don’t know how you get ready – but you have your uniform, and we have an hour before we need to start walking, so I assume you want a shower…”

* * *

Luz and Amity set off just on time. Luz had been to busy trying to tame her now-longer-and-therefore-curlier hair in the mirror when Eda had yelled up that breakfast was ready, and she was so late that they’d been kicked out, breakfast in hand, for the walk. The weather was… nice. Luz hated the rain, but she really didn’t mind the aftermath – watching the plants grow back quickly, making room for new and different wildflowers. The world, so gray, could suddenly be returned to its lively green. Usually, she’d be content to walk in silence, eat, and observe.

Except, there was Amity walking besides her.

Luz had never really had to deal with silence. She was very good at making conversation, and had a set of friends that were also good at the same thing. In the human world, her house was always alive with music – be it the cars past her windows, or her mother’s singing to the radio as she cooked downstairs. In the Boiling Isles, some of that had gone away (you didn’t really get car horns honking) – but Luz was enthusiastic, and always had a new glyph to talk about, or a crazy tale to tell about Eda’s weird actions from the days before. However, this was Amity – little miss perfect – and she probably wouldn’t approve of Luz’s incessant rambling.

Not in the way she’d dealt with it yesterday, at least. Or… hadn’t dealt with it?

Yesterday had been a weird day. Luz had gone to bed with the intention of figuring Amity out, except it was morning, and this was the first chance she’d gotten, and she was unable to ask. Of course she should ask – but breaking their already long and awkward silence to be like ‘hey, by the way, why did you come to my house in the rain and act all non-verbal? Just wondering’ would ruin whatever weak bonds of friendship they currently had. Also, wouldn’t it be considered rude to ask? Maybe Amity just wanted a friend, and still ‘didn’t want to talk about it’, like she’d claimed the night before.

If she was being honest, Luz couldn’t get Amity out of her mind. That scared look, as Amity showed up outside their door. The timidness Luz had literally never expected to see on her. The… everything. It was as if the night, replaying in her mind, was trying to dissect itself, except Luz had no dissecting tools so all she could do was prod at the images and take vague guesses at what was happening.

Luz hated seeing her friends hurt. And, whilst she’d never actually seen Amity hurt before, she was pretty sure this was what it looked like.

Gods, she wanted to do something about it. She liked her personality – her drive to be there for her friends, her loyalty, her strength against the ‘bad guys.’ But it was bugging her to just figure out what was wrong with Amity, and fix it; except that wasn’t something she could do.

It was all so damn frustrating.

“Hey, Luz?” Amity spoke up. Luz had long since finished her food – maybe she’d had a speck of jam on the sides of her mouth, or something.

“What’s up?” Luz asked, feigning nonchalance. She wasn’t even concerned about Amity – no, she’d been in her head about homework, or something like that.

“Can you… not tell people that I’m staying at your house?” Amity asked. “Nothing personal – it’s just, I guess I don’t want them jumping to conclusions.”

Wow. Since last night, that was the most words Amity had spoke in one go. “Sure, Amity,” Luz said. “Whatever you want.”

Amity was nodding, and then they were at the school gates, and all at once that head of green hair had disappeared. Luz’s chest both tightened with regrets of damn, we really should have talked that through and lightened with the ‘breakthrough’, of sorts. It meant Amity wasn’t exactly holding herself back from speaking to Luz – she’d just felt quiet, the night before. It probably meant she understood that Luz meant it when she said she’d listen to anything Amity wanted to say.

“Luz!” A familiar voice called, and Luz turned around, only to be hit with a hug from Gus. “You’re late!”

“I was… talking to Amity,” Luz said as means of an explanation. Not technically a lie.

“Listen,” Gus continued, “the human society has been wondering if you could come and explain the latest addition – airpods – to us? We run this lunchtime, and I know you don’t haver any prior arrangements, because you don’t hang out with anybody but us.”

“Hey!” Luz frowned. “I take offense to that!”

“No offence was meant,” Gus said fondly. “Willow’s inside – talking to Boscha, I think? They’ve been hover-sharing now that they’re ‘friends’, which… honestly is just weird.”

“So, the human appreciation society?”

“Right! So, you said they worked on a system called Bluetooth…”

* * *

Luz got home early, and dumped her bag by the door, content to collapse onto the couch and groan about her difficult day to whoever was listening (King was usually there – but if he wasn’t, well, the house was alive, and was probably interested in her story.) Ten minutes into her spiel-turned-nap, there was a knock at the door.

“You left me behind,” Amity said with a groan and a half-hard glare, standing outside.

“Woah, Amity,” Luz said with a genuine grin. “You want to stay over again?”

Amity’s thick eyebrows drew together. “I… yeah,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Didn’t I make that clear yesterday?”

Hard as she tried, Luz’s memory wasn’t the best – she’d probably mentioned it, and it had gone in one ear and out the other. “Alright,” Luz said, moving to allow Amity into the house, again. “Two day sleepover! Awesome!”

“We missed you, Amity,” drawled Hooty as Amity walked through the door. “Would you like to hear the song I wrote whilst you two were away at school?”

Luz shut the door quickly, letting out a sigh. “Alright,” she said, turning to Amity and pasting on her brightest smile. “Do you have any homework? We should do it now, so we don’t forget.”

“Okay,” Amity nodded, seemingly having found some purpose in Luz’s words. She hadn’t had a school bag (Luz didn’t know what she was expecting; she hadn’t shown up last night with the bag, so why would she have it at school?) so she was stuck with the few folders from her locker. She seemed to be unbothered as she led the way to the living room. Luz followed, until Amity stopped in her tracks.

Eda was sitting, enchantments lit up around her. She tended to do this, Luz had learnt – every time she discovered a new spell, or found a new potion recipe, she sat in the centre of the largest room and practiced until she got it perfect. This one seemed to be illusion magic – eight Eda’s were sitting in a circle around her, and the real Eda was only discernible by the frames perched on her nose. She was poured over a book, muttering to herself.

“Okay,” Luz said with a light chuckle, placing a hand on Amity’s arm to tug her away. “Maybe we could study in the kitchen?”

“Eda does illusion magic?” Amity asked, allowing herself to get pulled in a different direction. “But I thought she was a… I don’t know, actually.”

“Eda never joined a coven,” Luz explained, dumping her bag on the kitchen worksurface and taking a seat. “So she has access to all magic, and practices all of it – except, every now and again, she’ll forget a spell, or discover a new one; so she has to practice.” Luz pulled her textbook out, adding on, “it’s actually pretty cool, if you ask me.”

“Right,” Amity said, settling into her own seat. Her folders were set on the floor, tucked under her feet, and she had a single sheet of paper in front of her – as if she were deliberately trying not to take up room (which was ridiculous, because Luz’s stuff was taking up, like, half the countertop, so surely Amity knew it was okay to be a little messy.) “And she just practices in the living room?”

“Yup!” Luz chuckled. “Alright… did we get any abomination homework? We can do that together!”

Luz started on the work, moving considerably slower than Amity was, and having to pause to ask for help from her friend a few times – but the worksheet got completed, and soon Luz was moving onto her next track’s homework, whilst Amity continued with the extra abomination stuff. A little under an hour into their session (Luz could measure them, because every ten minutes, she felt like her head was about to implode, and would groan loudly to dramatically emphasise the fact to whoever was there to hear it) and Eda shuffled in, followed by two more illusion Eda’s.

“Oh, hey Amity,” Eda-number-1 said casually. “Your bed’s still set up?”

“I didn’t put it away this morning,” said Luz. “Is it alright if Amity stays another night?”

“Amity can stay as long as she wants,” Eda said genuinely; Luz noted how Eda’s eyes landed on Amity and the two exchanged a glance. Eda-2 and Eda-3 were busying themselves around the kitchen, taking out various pots and pans. “Now, Willow told me one of your favourite dishes is Hareega salad; which, fortunately, is a witch food I know how to make.”

“Hareega salad?” Luz asked. “You’ve never made that for me.”

“You’ve never asked for it,” Eda said in rebuttal, turning her back to the two kids. “You could stay, whilst I cook – or you could go up to your room, finish your homework, and then watch a movie, or something.”

Ah, yes – the old DVD player Luz had bought second-hand and brought to the witch world. Eda now owned a whole stack of Ghibli movies – and was becoming quite the enthusiast, recommending them to everybody she met when given the chance. “What do you think, Amity?”

Amity was already scooping up her folders into her arms, wide-eyed with confusion. “Uh,” she stumbled, looking back to Luz for guidance.

Luz smiled, warmly. “My room it is,” she said, picking up all her stuff. “Alright; let’s get the homework done quick – I want to show you what a movie is!”

“I know what a movie is, Luz; I’ve spoken to Gus before.”

“Yeah… but have you ever seen one?”

They exited the room, just as Eda reached for a pot on the countertop. The pot, and the two extra Eda’s, vanished with a poof.

“Right,” Eda mumbled, cursing under her breath and reaching to open the cabinet. “Illusion magic.”

* * *

“Luz,” Amity said, somewhat insistently. Luz had been humming softly for the past ten minutes as she finished off the last dregs of her homework. Amity had finished an hour ago, and was once again leafing through an Azura book.

Did the humming bother her? “What’s up?” Luz said, not tearing her eyes away from the work. She was so close to figuring out this equation. It was on the cusp of her thought. From the position on her belly, feet kicking softly behind her, she was in the perfect physical position to optimise her brain power.

“Luz,” Amity emphasised again. “Can we talk?”

Luz turned her head to Amity, eyebrows drawn. “Sure,” she said, confusion seeping into her tone. “You want me to sit up?”

Amity nodded, and Luz obeyed, hand fiddling with the pen that was still in her hands. “What’s up, Amity?” Luz asked.

Amity opened her mouth – and, for a moment, she looked exactly like she had done the night before; cheeks flushed, vulnerable. No words came out, though, and she swallowed, eyes darting around the floor, as if searching for what to say.

Luz offered what she hoped was a warm smile – but Amity wasn’t looking. “I,” she tried again, clearing her throat. “I don’t think you understood what I meant yesterday.”

Luz blinked. That had not been what she was expecting Amity to say. “I don’t get it.” She said. “What did you mean?”

“That –“ Amity let out a harsh sigh. “When I said, ‘can I stay,’ I didn’t just mean for that night.”

Amity was biting her lip. Luz’s fidgeting with the pen stopped. “But… you came to hide from the rain, right?”

A shake of Amity’s head. A tilt of Luz’s own. “Then why did you come?”

“Because I ran away from home.” Amity finally said. The words came out fast, and yet Luz had to sound them out in her head for a few extra seconds. “Yesterday.”

“In the rain?” Luz asked. Amity let out a humourless breath of laughter.

“I couldn’t take it anymore – so yes, in the rain.”

“But – why?”

Amity looked down, to where she was fiddling with the blanket’s edge. “The twins left for their university-exploration course, so it’s just been me, and Mom, and Dad, at home.” Her voice was soft. “They’re… not very nice.”

“Do they hit you?” Luz asked, alarmed. Amity’s eyes shot up.

“No!” She was quick to clarify, hands coming up to disprove the words. “No, nothing like that. They’re just… very… controlling.”

Luz’s nose wrinkled. Now that she thought back – when they’d gone into Willow’s head, she’d seen hints of it, and then again when Amity had been grounded for two weeks after the Grudgby match. And then, one day when Luz had made a house call for Amity, Amity had suddenly pulled away; stopped being her friend, anywhere outside of school – and even there was strained. Yes, it made sense, now that she was looking, that Amity’s parents were controlling.

“And you came here?” Luz asked. “The Blight estate is ages away. You walked here in the rain?”

A nod, of confirmation. “Why?” Luz asked.

“Other people would have asked questions,” Amity said – although Luz really didn’t understand. “Boscha’s parents would have called my parents, Willow’s dad’s are too nice to not notice, and that leaves… you.”

“Me,” Luz echoed.

“Well – and the crazy Owl Lady,” Amity said.

“…Alright.” Luz said. “So – your parents suck, the twins are gone, you ran away from home and came here?”

“Basically,” Amity said. She’d gone back to fiddling with the blanket. “So… can I stay?”

Luz’s entire demeanour softened. If this was what had been on Amity’s mind – Gods, of course she’d looked so dejected yesterday. And Luz had left her at school? Wow – talk about bad friend alert.

“Of course you can stay,” she said. Amity, in her entirety, seemed to sag in relief.

“But…” Luz continued. “There is one problem.”

“What?” Amity asked, eyes darting up to meet Luz’s, frantic. “What is it?”

“Well…”

Chapter 3: heist

Chapter Text

“You don’t have any clothes,” Luz said with a wince.

Amity blinked for a moment – looking down at her uniform. “What?” She hissed, looking back up at Luz with a mixture of confusion and anger.

“Well, you can’t just keep borrowing my stuff!” Luz said, voice rising.

“Why not?” Amity responded.

Letting out a harsh sigh, Luz put her hands out, as if to calm the both of them. “Alright,” she said, “I worded that wrong.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Amity grumbled.

“But…” Luz continued, “my point remains. You have no stuff.”

“I have some stuff.”

“Not the point, Amity.”

Amity crossed her arms over her chest, eyes looking off to the side in some childish grump. It made the edges of Luz’s lips quirk up at the cuteness of the gesture. The simplicity of it. “Anyway,” she pressed on, “it’ll be a problem, moving forwards.”

“Great.” Said Amity. “What do you suppose we do? Go shopping?”

“No. I say we break into your house.”

Luz had the pleasure of watching the moment her words registered, and Amity’s eyes widened like saucers with horror. “Break in?” She whisper-yelled, as if the words themselves were prohibited. “To the Blight estate?”

“Yeah!” Luz said. “How bad can it be? We have magic.”

“It’s the Blight estate!”

“You know your way around.”

“It’s literally guarded by magic tomes.”

“That we can disable… with magic!”

Amity let out a long sigh, a hand moving to rub the bridge of her nose. “Alright,” she said after a while of apparently contemplation. “Say we did manage to disable the magical security, climb in my locked-from-the-inside bedroom window, and have enough time to pack me a couple bags. How do we scale back down with all that stuff, and leave inconspicuously?”

“We’ll fly!” Luz said. “Eda won’t mind us borrowing Owlbert.”

A crease formed between Amity’s eyebrows. “Eda… lets you use her palisman? Her sacred companion?”

“Well, yeah,” Luz said. “Owlbert and I have been buddies since this one run-in with the Bat Queen – don’t look so horrified, it was ages ago – and Eda trusts me too.”

Amity looked sceptical. “Right,” she said. “When?”

“How about now?”

* * *

“This is a horrible idea,” Amity groaned, one hand wrapped like a vice around Luz’s waist, the other probably holding onto the staff.

“I think it’s amazing!” Luz had to shout, turning her head slightly but not taking her eyes off of where they were going. They’d waited until it got dark (and it got dark fast in the winters of the Boiling Isles.) If Amity didn’t like this, Luz thought, she’d hate motorbikes. “You don’t like flying?”

Amity let out a terrified moan as a response, crushing Luz’s ribs even harder. Seriously – she must’ve been using a strength spell, or something.

“Okay,” Luz said. “Let’s go through our game plan again.”

“We don’t have a game plan, Luz.”

“Of course we do!” Luz defended. Owlbert dropped slightly in the air, making Luz laugh, and Amity scream. “That’s Owlbert’s way of saying he agrees.”

“Okay,” Amity breathed out. “We fly up to the window. Unlock it with a spell. Pack two or three bags full of stuff. Leave on Owlbert, and fly back to the Owl Shack.”

“Back home,” Luz corrected.

Amity was silent for a while. “What happens if my parents see us?”

“We run,” Luz said. “Well; we fly away, I guess. No human – or witch – left behind!”

“This is a horrible idea,” Amity repeated. “Can’t we just buy me new clothes?”

“Not all of us are trust fund babies, Amity,” Luz grumbled playfully, moving an elbow to nudge at Amity’s own arm, still wrapped around her. “Hey; maybe you could steal a credit card whilst we’re at it.”

“A what?”

“Nothing. My humour is wasted here. Remind me to make that joke with Gus later.”

The Blight Manor was in their sights, through the forest they’d had to go through as a shortcut, and for cover. If Luz didn’t know better (if she was still naïve, and fourteen, and wide-eyed at the idea of witches), she’d have thought it was a palace – what with its stone turrets and expansive gardens. The Blights, as it would seem, were a very well-off witch family; working under a powerful coven probably paid very well. Actually (now that Luz thought about it), she had no clue what Amity’s parents did.

She’d have to ask Amity about it, later. Everybody had to work – hell, even Eda had her own… side hustle.

“Alright,” Luz said with a whoop of enthusiasm. “Let’s disable these security measures.”

Luz pulled Owlbert to a hovering stop, several feet from the ground but close enough to see the thin border of the Blight estate’s security forcefield, which shimmered, a barely-there bubble. Amity cast a wordless spell, and Luz pulled out a series of pre-prepared glyphs, activating them before letting them scatter to the ground. The forcefield, which had been shimmering a translucent silver, disabled with a flicker.

“Step one complete,” Luz whispered to Amity dorkily, before directing Owlbert to continue flying. She could practically feel Amity’s eye roll against her shoulder.

“Okay,” Luz was whispering now; the Blight estate was weirdly large, and also made her weirdly uncomfortable. “Which one is your bedroom?”

Amity pointed to one of the turrets near the edge of the building, and Luz couldn’t help but snort. “Wow,” Luz said. “You really are a princess.”

“Stop it,” Amity grumbled into Luz’s shirt. Somewhere through the ride, her head had found purchase using the dip between Luz’s shoulder blades as a resting spot – and her breath seemed to warm Luz from the inside out.

“What, you don’t like being called a princess?”

Amity burrowed further into Luz’s back, and Luz felt a shiver up her spine that she really hoped Amity didn’t also feel. “Let’s just get this over with,” Amity grumbled.

“Yes, ma’am,” Luz said, pulling up to Amity’s bedroom window. “Would you do the honours, Miss Blight?”

Amity lifted her head, making a quick circle and pushing into the window – which clicked open. “I’m so nervous, it isn’t even funny,” she said to Luz.

“We got this!” Luz said in return. “Now you have to jump in.”

Amity shot Luz a glare, before reaching her hands out to the windowsill and somehow gracefully lifting herself from the staff to it in one fluid motion. Before Luz could blink, Amity had slid feet-first into the room, and was turning back, gesturing for Luz to, “hurry up!”

Luz awkwardly climbed onto the window, making sure to keep a firm hand on Owlbert, before manoeuvring herself into Amity’s bedroom, too. “Okay,” Luz said, watching as Amity moved from one side of the room to the other, having already located a bag. “What do you need me to do?”

Amity was stuffing the full contents of her dresser into her bag. “Get my school stuff,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the corner of her room where her desk resided.

Obeying, Luz grabbed Amity’s school bag, trying to organise the sheets so they wouldn’t crumple in the bag. “Hey, your room’s changed a lot, huh,” she said, shoving folders into the bag. “No more Emperor’s coven poster?”

“My parents gave that one to me,” Amity said from her side of the room, not bothering to look up, “and when I figured out it was all a corrupt system – they paid Belos, who paid Lilith, who ‘favourited’ me – I tore it down.”

Luz had to look up at that, just to see the impassiveness on Amity’s face. “Wow,” she said, zipping up the school bag. “What next?”

“Um,” Amity stood, bag full. “I have about half my clothes. We should hurry. Pack the rest – I’ll get personal things.”

Luz grabbed the bag Amity was handing her, sitting next to the drawer Amity had already half-emptied. “No replacement posters?” She asked.

“Do we really have to talk about this now?” Amity asked, shoving her notepad into a backpack. “Aren’t we supposed to be all sneaky?”

“Just curious,” Luz said. “I won’t see this room again.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully neither will I,” Amity muttered. “I’m done.”

A creak on the stairs caused both Luz and Amity to freeze, exchanging a wide-eyed glance. “We should go,” Amity insisted.

“Okay,” Luz said, standing with her two bags, and Owlbert. “Think; you need anything else?”

Amity surveyed the room for the last time; slowly, calculatingly. “Nope,” she said, swinging a bag onto her back. “I am all done here.”

“Good riddance,” Luz said. “Okay; let’s get out of here.”

* * *

When they returned to the Owl House, there was another bed next to Luz’s. Luz’s bed wasn’t really a bed – rather a mattress and a sleeping bag atop it, with a pillow that was so fluffy it was magically enchanted. But now there was a matching one, with a purple sleeping bag rather than a blue one, and a matching, overly fluffy pillow.

The blankets Luz had used were folded up in the corner, for a cold night. And, Luz noted, the beds were further apart – but still close enough that, if Luz reached out with one hand, and Amity with the other, their hands could still meet in the middle.

Amity entered the room behind her, as Luz was putting her bags down – but Luz could’ve sworn she caught a glimpse of watery-eyes from her green-haired companion. She didn’t say anything about it, though.

Instead, Luz collapsed onto her own mattress, sprawled out like a starfish, and said, “That secret mission was hard work.”

“We’re calling it a secret mission now?” Amity asked, putting her own two bags next to where Luz had dumped them. If Amity’s voice was a little throaty, Luz pretended not to notice. “I thought it was a stealth mission.”

Luz shrugged. “Which sounds cooler?”

Amity moved to perch on the edge of the mattress, hands clasping together over her drawn-in knees. “They both sound pretty dorky to me,” she said teasingly, quietly. Luz let her eyes close, a lazy smile playing on her lips.

A moment passed. Two. Luz heard no movement, though.

“You can lie down, you know,” Luz said. “It’s your bed.”

“It’s a sorry excuse for a bed,” Amity said. “What is this – a sleeping bag?”

“It’s actually very comfortable,” defended Luz. “But despite what you think of it – it’s yours.”

She lifted her head, looking Amity in the eyes, revealing the full glory of her double chin and holding that gaze until Amity relented, lowering herself to her side, and placing her head delicately on the pillow. It took a minute for the entirety of the tension to leave Amity’s body – for her to just relax.

Luz wanted to ask a million questions. Yes, Amity didn’t want to live at home anymore – but why? What qualified as such a dire situation, that you couldn’t live with your parents anymore? She’d explained why she’d come here in the heat of the moment, but why had she stayed?

But Luz looked over, and Amity was relaxed – enough so that, if given the chance, she’d probably melt into a puddle of sleep. And, so, Luz decided, her questions could wait.

* * *

“Hey,” Luz tapped on Amity’s shoulder softly, trying to wake the girl from her slumber. “Food’s ready. We need to eat.”

Amity was drooling slightly in her sleep – mouth opened into a small slit, breaths heavy, and even. Her eyelashes were a deep brown, like the roots of her hair, and long enough to almost skate across the apples of her cheeks.

Luz tried again, hand resting fully on Amity’s arm. She squeezed gently – and then shook.

Amity startled awake, eyes wide and mouth slamming shut, one hand over Luz’s own in a tight grip. Her eyes were alert, but unfocussed; lazy with sleep. She looked at Luz, and blinked. Her grip softened.

“Sorry,” Amity said, releasing Luz’s hand and letting her body fall lax. “You scared me.”

“That’s okay,” Luz hurried to say. “I woke you because food is ready. We’re having this witch food today – you might know it? Eda said it’s called Flortic peppers.”

Amity took a moment to understand the words, before she nodded. “They’re nice,” she said. “My che- I used to eat them with cream cheese.”

“Oh, cool!” Luz said, standing up – both to distance herself from the soft sight of Amity, hair mussed with sleep, drool still stuck to her cheek – and get the two of them moving. “Well, it’s ready. Maybe we have some cream cheese.”

Amity stood, stretching her arms above her head, and Luz watched the curve of her spine, the slight ripple of muscle in her arms. Suddenly, her throat was dry.

“Let’s go!” Luz said, voice far too high-pitched, and strained, like it was coming from the back of her throat. She bounded down the stairs, not even looking for Amity behind her, and walked straight into the dining room.

“Hey, Luz!” Greeted King with a wave of his paw. “How was your day at school?”

Eda entered with the flortic peppers then, placing them, still sizzling, on each person’s plate. Amity also walked in, silently sitting opposite Luz, mirrored to how they’d sat yesterday.

“Dinner is served!” Eda said cheerfully. Luz’s eyes met Amity’s across the table, and she gestured to the side of her lip, where Amity had some leftover drool.

Amity swiped, face turning bright red.

“My day was good, King!” Luz said. “Busy – but productive! I’m really enjoying the Beast Keeping classes, recently.”

“Oh, yeah,” Eda said with disdain. “Beast Keeping. What a useful track.”

Luz cut into her pepper, trying not to be off-put by the way it did not look like a pepper – more like a very large, thicker, orange rind – filled with cottage cheese. “You have a favourite track?” Luz asked.

“Well, not a favourite – more ones I happen to dislike,” Eda explained, taking a bite of her food.

“Ones she wasn’t as good at!” King said with a laugh. He was eating his pepper, despite how it was still steaming, straight off the plate.

Luz took a bite of the food, surprised that it actually tasted good. Spicy, weirdly – but good.

“Which ones did you like, then?”

“Oh, you know, the usuals,” Eda said casually. “Illusions. Plants. I dabbled in Oracle, too, I suppose.”

“Right,” Luz said. “Well, I’ll get good!”

Eda’s face transformed into a soft smile. “Of course you will, kid,” she said. “Now eat up. How’d I do on this one?”

“Really good, actually,” Luz said. “It’s delicious.”

Eda nodded. “King?”

“I love it!” King said enthusiastically.

“Amity?”

Luz looked over to Amity, who’d been staring down at her plate since she’d finished; eating quickly, because she wasn’t talking. “Oh,” she said, flushing again, slightly, “it was… good?”

Eda studied Amity for a second, before nodding. “Great,” she said, clapping her hands. “I’ll have to make this again.”

She cast a spell, and the plates picked themselves up and herded into the kitchen, probably to the sink. “Alright, kids, I’m going out for a bit – so no new spells, especially if they’re fire-based. I’ll be back before you’re asleep.”

Eda reached around to hug Luz’s back, and flicked King’s shell softly, earning a yelp of indignation from him. Luz stood, straightening imaginary wrinkles in her clothes.

“Okay,” she said to Amity. “We have some time to kill, I guess.”

* * *

Luz went to bed at the same time as Amity – after a bout of productivity in the form of getting her potions homework finished. They’d washed up together, and Luz had watched as they brushed their teeth in tandem, and then decidedly not watched as Amity washed her face, actions dainty and somehow graceful. Luz had gotten into bed, and zipped up her sleeping bag, when she noticed Amity wasn’t besides her.

Instead, she was sitting on the edge of the mattress, eyes fixed on the window behind their heads. “What are you doing?” Luz asked. The window was the only source of light; pale, and silver, and filtering in like water to illuminate parts of Amity’s glassy skin.

“Nothing,” Amity said, continuing to watch the window. “Just looking at the stars.”

“Oh,” said Luz, with a nod that hopefully gave off an impression of understanding. “You do that often?”

Amity shrugged. “Sometimes,” she murmured. “Not really.”

Luz unzipped her sleeping bag a little so she could flip onto her stomach, looking out the window. The Boiling Isles’ constellations had served her well many times in her two years here – and she’d always liked staring up, looking for hidden puzzle pieces in them. But she’d never looked, here or in the human world, just to appreciate the stars’ beauty.

She looked at Amity, and wondered why she’d never stopped to look.

Amity let out a long, contented sigh, opening the sleeping bag and slipping inside. “Good night, Luz,” she said, eyes shutting in the dark.

“Night, Amity,” Luz said back.

“Hey,” Amity said, after a minute. “Thank you. For everything.”

Luz’s eyes re-opened, to find Amity had trained her own amber-irises on hers. “It’s alright,” Luz’s voice came out just above a whisper. “Anytime.”

Amity hummed, the smallest of smiles finding purchase on her lips, before she turned over, eventually stilling into relaxation. Luz let out a breath, turning onto her back.

The memories of Amity replayed in her head long into her dreams.

Chapter 4: relations conversations

Chapter Text

Luz hadn’t really been expecting it, but Amity’s integration into the Owl House wasn’t as seamless as she was hoping for it to be. That first (official) night had been fine, and Thursday had passed almost in the same way – without the whole breaking-and-entering extravaganza, of course. She’d woken late, and seen Amity and Eda in the living room again – Eda, this time, knitting, and Amity with that same quilted blanket around her like a protective barrier.

(Luz hated to say it, but they really should wash that blanket. Maybe there was a spell for that kind of thing. She’d have to ask Eda, later.)

“Morning,” Luz had said after a moment, worried her voice would break the dreamlike silence of the room. Where Amity had turned slightly, offering a delicate smile, Eda had made a positive grunt of acknowledgement, continuing with her task.

Mealtimes had become a silent affair. Well, not exactly silent – King and Eda could talk circles around each other all night if Luz left them be. But Eda liked to take interest in what Luz had been up to during the day, and apparently, this rule now outstretched to Amity.

Amity, who was apparently wholly underprepared for any sort of attention.

On Thursday, which Luz was quickly beginning to dub ‘Amity’s first real night’, she’d remained silent for a full minute, seemingly not even having realized attention was being placed on her – before she stopped eating, face going bright red, mouth sputtering in a desperate attempt to gather a response. Eda had chuckled light-heartedly, telling Amity to, “take your time, kid,” and then taking another bite of food. Amity had eventually managed to wheeze out a, “fine,” and was pointedly tense for the rest of the dinner.

“It’s okay,” Luz had said as they were getting ready, Amity brushing her teeth. “Eda won’t bite you if you can’t answer on the spot. No need to choke.”

And then, Friday morning’s breakfast, and Eda had asked, ‘how did you two sleep?’ and Amity had actually choked (like – literally, Luz had to get out of her seat and squeeze Amity’s ribs.) Mental note to self; check why Amity freaked out around Eda at the earliest opportunity.

There were other things that had happened during ‘Amity’s first real night’, too; Amity had spilled water over their bedroom floor, and freaked out – apologising, casting spells to try and fix it (that apparently weren’t working because of the sheer panic Amity was in) and eventually just running to get a towel for the spill before it warped the floorboards. But Luz had promised Amity it was nothing, and that she’d ‘already-forgotten-about-it’ – so she wouldn’t mention it again.

“So,” Luz said to Amity the moment she got the chance – which happened to be on the trek home from school on Friday, which they’d also began sharing since Amity moved in. “Do you just not like Eda?”

Amity’s eyebrows furrowed, but her eyes remained on the path. Luz had to second guess whether Amity had heard her words, or was merely concerned with her own trail of thought. “Why would you think that?”

“Well… you get all flustered when she asks you questions.”

“I like Eda!” Amity said, looking to Luz. “I’m really grateful for her, and everything. She thinks I don’t like her?”

“I don’t know what she thinks,” Luz said with a small smile. “It’s just that I thought… well…”

“Do you think she might think I don’t like her?” Amity asked, eyes frantic now. “I do! I’m so appreciative of everything she’s done for me.”

“Hey,” Luz chuckled. “I was just wondering. Because you don’t need to be nervous. Eda’s practically a grown up teenager. She’s the coolest!”

“Right,” Amity’s voice was softer, calmer. She kicked a rock in her path half-heartedly, hands clasping behind her back. “That explains why she lives in that shack.”

Something about Amity’s words seemed to hit Luz in a funny way, and she paused, mulling that feeling over. “Why do you call it a shack?” Luz asked.

Amity’s steps slowed to a halt, and her lips tugged down slightly. “What?” She asked.

“Why do you call it a ‘shack’?”

“Because…”

“It’s a house,” Luz continued, “like you saw. And you’re living there now – so don’t you think it’s sort of rude to be calling it a shack?”

“You’re right,” Amity’s words were slow, as if she were merely sounding them out. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Luz said with a nod. “Just a thought. Come on – today’s Friday!”

The walk, like the mealtimes, slowed to a silence. Luz’s brain was alight; slight guilt over calling Amity out, and thoughts of her silence, and her blush, at breakfast that morning. The image of her, asleep, breaths deep and even, hair splayed like a work of vivid art over a pillowed canvas, not enough light to appreciate her in the darkness.

If she thought too hard about it – which she wouldn’t – Luz’s mind seemed to always be on Amity.

“What’s so special about a Friday?” Amity asked. She’d been kicking at the same rock for the past five minutes.

“I get to go back to the human world!” Luz announced, glad for the silence broken. “Friday night to Sunday night are my mom’s times – and then, Monday to Friday, I’m here with Eda!”

“You’re leaving?” Amity asked.

“You didn’t know?” Luz looked to Amity, falling slightly behind Luz, but still close enough she didn’t have to crane her neck. Their steps had been in unison for a while now, Luz noted, pounding a regular beat into the earth. “It must’ve slipped my mind to tell you.”

Amity’s eyes found the ground again, and she bit her lip, fingers pulling at each other anxiously. “When will you be back?” She asked.

“Sunday night – or sometimes I come back on a Monday morning. It depends.”

“Alright,” Amity was nodding, more to herself. “I can stay in the library for the weekend, then – or maybe Willow-“

“Woah, wait,” Luz said. “What are you talking about?”

Amity blinked, surprise filling her eyes. “Making other living arrangements,” she said to Luz, as if it were the most obvious thing. “You’ll be gone, and I’m not really welcome there without you, so…”

Her voice trailed off into nothing. The thuds of their steps – now disjointed, inharmonious – couldn’t quite fill the silence.

“You’re welcome,” Luz said eventually, once she’d gathered her thoughts. “You’re always welcome – with Eda and King, and Hooty, even when I’m not there. You know that, right?”

Amity’s silence was answer enough.

“Is it that you don’t feel comfortable without me there?” Luz asked. “I thought you were doing good – you and Eda sit together in the mornings, and stuff, so-“

“It’s not that.” Amity cut in. “It’s not – it isn’t their fault. I’m just… weird, I guess.” She let out a deprecating chuckle, before seeming to notice her fidgeting hands, schooling them to stillness by her sides. “And I don’t mind leaving, really! I’ll be fine for a weekend. Like you said – you’ll be back Sunday, so that’s just two nights sleep.”

“But what if you stayed?” Luz asked. “At the Owl House, with everybody. They won’t mind. Eda loves having you.”

“I could…” Amity said quietly. Her voice was timid, uncertain. Uncomfortable.

“…But you wouldn’t want to,” Luz finished off the thought. “Not yet, at least.”

Amity nodded, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m making such a scene, it must be so annoying – you’ve done so much for me already.”

“You’re not annoying, Amity.” Luz said. One of her hands reached out – clasping Amity’s in her own. Amity stopped walking, the blush disappearing in place of shock. Luz squeezed her hand, hoping that her truthfulness could be sensed through the physical touch. Amity had to understand this. “You’re not a burden, like you seem to think you are. You’re my friend; this is just what friends do.”

There was silence for a moment. Luz studied Amity’s eyes – amber in colour, and wide, golden. Amity hadn’t been wearing eyeliner since she’d stayed at the Owl House; it made her look softer.

Luz squeezed. Amity squeezed back.

“Okay,” Luz said with a breath out. “Now that that’s sorted, let’s brainstorm. You don’t want to stay at the Owl House.”

It was said as a statement, but Amity shook her head in confirmation. “You can’t stay at the library,” Luz said. “No food, or water, or toilet. That’s not okay, because that’s not habitable. If you stayed there, I’d feel horrible.”

“I-“ Amity cut herself off. Her eyes dipped to where they were still holding hands, and then back up to Luz – but Luz was looking into the distance, eyebrows drawn in deep concentration.

“Wait,” Luz said, “I’ve got it! Why don’t you just come to the human world with me?”

* * *

“Eda,” Camilia greeted, voice dripping with plastered-on kindness. “How lovely to see you again.”

“Camilia,” Eda said back, eyes tight with a smile. “Trust me; the pleasure is all mine.”

“Come on, guys,” Luz said from her position behind Eda, gripping her small backpack with one hand, and holding King in a hug with the other. “We’re all friends! There’s no need to be all competitive.”

“Right,” Eda said. “I tried out that recipe book you got us. Didn’t really work.”

“I took a witch dish into work, and everybody loved it. Must just be your cooking.”

“Alright,” Luz cut in again, trying to break the intense eye contact between Eda and Camilia (in vain – their passive-aggressive glares could cut through metal.) “Mom, this is Amity. She’s coming with us this week.”

Camilia blinked, looking away from Eda to fix her eyes on Amity – a couple steps behind Luz, probably smiling politely. Her eyes immediately softened behind the thick-rimmed pink glasses. “Nice to meet you, Amity.” She said genuinely. “I’m Luz’s real mom.”

“Wow,” Eda chuckled, leaning against the door frame. “Way to throw shade.”

“What?” Camilia asked. “It’s true!”

“Luz stays five days a week with me.”

“Because her school is there! She’s known me longer.”

“I teach her magic.”

“I birthed her, Eda.”

“You always bring that up!”

Amity leant over to Luz. “Are they always like this?”

“Oh, yeah.” Luz said. “Every week. They’re both wildly competitive, for some reason.”

Amity laughed softly into Luz’s shoulder, and Luz felt a shock of electric current run up her spine and straight to her heart, tightening it uncomfortably. She cleared her throat, looking down at King and taking the opportunity to take a step away from Amity and her heart-squeezing powers.

“I’ll miss you, little buddy,” she said to King earnestly, placing a light kiss to his head. “Don’t get into any shenanigans without me.”

“Never!” King said. “I’d knead your help.”

“You’re right! Our pranks are butter when we’re together.”

King laughed. “Good one!”

Luz smiled at him, before putting him down. “Alright,” she said, eyes drifting forwards to Eda – who stopped leaning on the doorframe, outstretching her arms.

She seemed to sink into Eda’s hug, head nestling perfectly into her shoulder. Eda’s arms tightened around her, one rubbing at her back. “It’s just two days,” said Luz. “I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Yeah, kid,” Eda said, squeezing tighter. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“I wouldn’t dare. But you can’t have fun without me, either.”

Luz pulled back, and Eda squeezed her shoulder, before pushing her slightly. “Go on,” she said. “Skedaddle. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Luz walked through, hugging her mom with just as much strength. “I missed you, mama.”

“Me too, cariña,” Camilia said, placing a kiss to Luz’s forehead. “Alright. Is your friend coming?”

They both turned. Amity was standing where Luz had left her.

“You want a hug, too?” Eda asked softly.

“Not yet,” Amity said. “But… thank you.”

“Any time,” Eda said, backing away from the door slightly. “Have fun, kid.”

“Thank you,” Amity said. And then she walked through the door, too.

“Wave,” Camilia instructed, waving at Eda. Eda, from the other side of the door, waved briefly at Luz and Amity – before flashing Camilia the middle finger.

Luz snorted as her mom besides her reciprocated the gesture. “Bye, Eda!” She called.

“See you Sunday,” Eda said with one last wave. And then the door was shut.

“Alright,” Camilia said with a breath of air. “It’s lovely to meet you, Amity. I’m Camilia, Luz’s mother.”

“I’m Amity,” Amity said.

“Amity’s staying with us at the Owl House,” Luz filled in. “She really liked your cooking.”

A glint lit up Camilia’s dark eyes. “So she did use that dish I gave you… interesting.” She clapped her hands. “Right! Let’s get back home; and see if we can do something about covering up your ears, Amity.”

* * *

Luz could never deny that she missed her mother’s cooking. Sitting at the table she’d grown up with, eating the familiar food…

Luz and her mother kept up a steady stream of chatter throughout dinner – catching up on their weeks, and trading stories. They ate, and laughed, and Luz felt every bit of ache she always did when she came back to the human world.

She loved it here, but… it was never really for her.

If only she could have the best of both worlds; Camilia could come and live in the Boiling Isles, and her and Eda could compete to be Luz’s best mom, and she’d wake up next to King every morning, and come downstairs to her mom’s Spanish songs, and Eda and Amity on the couch, talking. She’d go to school, and live through whatever adventure that day brought – and then be able to bring it home to share with her family.

But she also knew that wasn’t an option. As much as Luz had been able to pick up and leave, her mom had a life here. Family. Friends. A job that she adored. Luz couldn’t ask her to leave all that behind.

Also, when had Amity joined her picture of a perfect life?

Later – after food, and a human movie that was probably very confusing to Amity, when Luz was setting up the spare room, she paused. Amity was wearing a dark green beanie that was slightly too big for her, but managed to cover her ears just fine. It kept slipping, and Amity kept pushing it up, and out of her eyes. Luz had changed into her ‘human-wear’, but Amity was still in her uniform.

“You like the human world so far?” Luz asked, taking a seat on the bed. The room was painted white, and full of white furniture – but there were plants everywhere. She’d always liked this room, because it always seemed to be so much more sophisticated than her own – but her mom had never let her take it, because Luz had an affinity for messing things up – she’d probably spill orange juice on the white pillowcase, or something.

It suited Amity. Minimalistic, and yet sharp. Formal, but still cosy. Beautiful.

“I do,” Amity said. “Your mom’s a good cook.”

“She’d like it if you told her that,” Luz said. “Her and Eda seem to be competing.”

Amity let out a chuckle that surprised Luz, and sat down besides her. “I noticed.”

The two fell into a comfortable silence – not needing to search for words, just… enjoying each other’s presence. “How did you even end up doing all of this?” Amity eventually asked. “The to-and-from with the human world and the Boiling Isles.”

“Well, it started out that I was just here for summer – but then the whole war began, and I couldn’t leave Eda’s side, so I had to tell my mom what was happening. She didn’t believe me at first, but I took her to the witch world, and she met Eda, and… I don’t know. Things just slotted into place.”

“You don’t find it hard?” Amity asked. “It must be a lot.”

“Yeah,” Luz chuckled. “It is a lot, actually.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Well…” Luz paused. “I get exhausted with school, and then over the weekends I have to devote myself to my mom, because I only see her two days a week, but during the week I have to focus on Hexside, and trying to do everything with my friends because they’d normally hang out over the weekend but I can’t because I’m here, and… wow.” Luz stopped herself, surprised at the feeling that she could go on for longer. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually said that out loud. Sorry. Word vomit.”

“It’s okay,” Amity said softly. “I don’t mind.”

Luz laughed tearily – surprised that her eyes were welling up. “I can’t think about the future, either,” Luz admitted, one hand coming up to rub at her eye before the tear fell. It left her palm slightly wet. “Because once school is over, well, I’ll have no human qualifications – and will they even allow a human to get a witch-job? My magic is already questionable. But then if I can’t have a life in the human world or the witch world, I’m done. So I just… try not to think about it.”

“It’s easier to be distracted,” Amity said. “I get it.”

“Sorry,” Luz sniffled, “for dumping all of this on you. You must be going through so much, and I’m busy complaining about my life.”

“Hey,” Amity said. She took Luz’s hand, much like Luz had done with Amity earlier – and Luz was surprised at the clarity the simple touch brought her. “You can always talk to me. I’ll always listen. We’re… friends. Friends listen to each other.”

She spared a moment to look at Amity. The beanie was almost comical, making her seem taller and drooping slightly at the back. It hid her quiff, and her brown roots – so that only the lighter green stuck out. “We are friends,” Luz said. “And – I know you don’t want to right now, and that’s fine, but whenever you’re comfortable… talking about whatever you went through. I’m here.”

“Who says I went through anything?” Amity’s voice turned slightly defensive.

“You showed up at the Owl House in the pouring rain, looking like death – and you already told me your family sucks. But I don’t care – I’ll always be here.”

“I know,” Amity said, squeezing Luz’s hand. Luz squeezed back.

Her eyes drifted past Amity, to the window at the top of the bed. “Wow,” Luz said, wiping her free hand under one eye to catch any stray tears that may or may not have fallen. “It’s raining.”

“It is?” Amity asked, turning her head suddenly, hand ripping out of Luz’s. Panic was laced through her tone, and sewn into her tense muscles. “But – you can’t create a forcefield in this world, and I’m not powerful enough for your whole house-“

“It’s a different type of rain,” Luz said, placing her hand on Amity’s shoulder blade. “Ours isn’t acidic. It’s… kind of nice, actually. Want to see?”

Luz stood, outstretching her hand to Amity. Amity looked at Luz, and then at her hand.

“If it kills me,” she said, taking Luz’s hand, “it’ll be your fault.”

Chapter 5: human rain

Chapter Text

“It’s so cold,” were the first words to come out of Amity’s mouth as they stepped into the rain, in Luz’s back garden. Luz had been coaxing her with every step, reassurances falling like petals past her lips.

“Well, yeah,” Luz said, taking several confident steps and having to squint her eyes in protection from the thick droplets of rain. Her arms outstretched besides her, and she twirled, feeling suddenly playful. “It’s not boiling, like your rain!”

Amity remained silent, watching as Luz slowed her spinning, arms coming awkwardly to her sides as if to trap in her heat. “Are you coming?” Luz asked.

“It doesn’t look very pleasant.”

“It is, though!” Luz outstretched her hand to Amity. “You’re not curious?”

Amity looked at Luz’s hand and then groaned – taking it. Luz’s hand was slippery from the rain, but Amity’s was warm, and dry. She let out a squeal as she stepped into the downpour, other hand somehow finding Luz’s. Amity’s eyes were squinted almost shut, and the drops were quickly wetting her hair, letting small strands of it curl up to her cheeks. “Oh my god,” Amity said.

“You like it?”

“I don’t know. Yes?”

Luz grinned, squeezing Amity’s hands, before she tugged. “You don’t have puddles in the Boiling Isles, do you?”

Before long, they were running – Luz had to let go of one of Amity’s hands, but the other was gripped solidly despite the rainwater. Amity was laughing joyfully, keeping up with Luz’s antics perfectly. Luz spotted what she was looking for – a dip in the landscape, where water had begun to accumulate.

“Alright,” Luz said, slowing slightly. “We’re about to get wetter, but… well, we’re soaked already.”

“What?” Amity asked. But Luz had already let go of her hand – and jumped in.

Amity gasped as she was splashed from the waist down with slightly murky water, instincts pushing her to jump backwards even though it was too late. “What the hell?” Amity asked, shivering slightly, and crossing her arms over herself to keep the warmth in.

“Sorry,” Luz grinned, stepping out of the puddle. “If it makes you feel better, my shoes are soaked.”

“What is that?” Amity asked. “Why does the water collect like that?”

Luz looked to Amity – and instead of the anger she’d expected, annoyance, maybe – there was a childlike wonder in her eyes. “It just does that,” Luz said. “When the ground’s uneven.”

“Why do you jump in it?”

“Because it’s fun,” Luz chuckled. “Come on. Try it out.”

Amity gave her a disbelieving glance, and Luz backed away, gesturing for Amity to go. She watched as Amity eyed the puddle for a while – and then jumped.

There was silence, for a moment. The air was cold, and humid, and the beating rain provided a comfortable hum against the earth. And then Amity started laughing.

“It is pretty fun,” she said. “The human world is awesome.”

Amity jumped again, sending water spraying around her. “It’s so cold,” she observed with awe.

“You don’t like it?”

“I do,” Amity said. She stepped out of the puddle cautiously, gracefully – looking down to her soaked trousers. “It’s just weird.”

“It is pretty cool,” Luz said. “I mean the science! The water cycle is so interesting – and that isn’t even including lightning…”

Luz trailed off, like she always did when she realized she’d gone on a tangent. Most people didn’t like to listen – Luz was never regarded as a particularly smart person, because whilst she was able to fixate on some parts of science, the other parts (the parts that bored her) seemed to never stick; fading from her brain the moment she got out of class.

But Amity was silent – eyes closed, chin tilted up all the way to the sky, so that the raindrops were hitting her cheeks. Luz could only look for a moment; at the way her milky skin seemed to glow almost a perfect white, with the light of the grey clouds. Her jaw was sharp, dangerous – connecting to the soft skin of her neck, where the water disappeared under the hem of her top. Her head tilted Luz’s way slightly, eyes opening a slit. The warmth of her eyes, glowing amber, was a shock to Luz’s system. “Tell me about the water cycle,” Amity said. “I like listening to your voice.”

Luz was floored – Amity’s voice, and her eyes, and her… “Okay,” she said, feeling a heat that was deeply unnatural with the cool of the rain. “The water cycle.”

Amity’s eyes slid shut comfortably again, and she tilted her head back up to the skies. Her face was flawless – no sign of worry on her features. Amity looked every part a sixteen-year-old, with the curve of her nose, and her chin, illuminated against a backdrop of trees. Luz began talking – eventually finding her footing, and diving into another of her interests. But her eyes never left Amity – her jaw, and her chin, and her cheeks.

Amity was… gorgeous, wow. Luz had noticed it before, but – damn. She’d never noticed it like this. And she was so excited to share the human world with her.

* * *

As always, Luz woke up later than the sun. Her head was foggy with sleep and memories, of the day before. Stretching her arms over her head was a task within itself; and, once she was done, she was conscious enough to hear her mom’s latin music, and her gentle humming over the top.

Standing was even worse – but Luz took her time, feeling the cold of her wooden bedroom floor against her feet. Her pyjamas were lopsided, one side slipping off her shoulder, but that was normal. Luz was a messy sleeper.

She wiped her cheeks for any leftover drool, and once again, combed her hair. If Amity was downstairs – would she be downstairs? – Luz wanted to look nice.

There was always an achey sort of familiarity that came with the weekends Luz was home – the wandering down the stairs like she’d done as a child, at Christmas, or walking the halls of the first floor as if she’d just had a nightmare. The memories weren’t unwelcome; Luz cherished them, really. But every new one she got, every returned sensation, reminded her that this wasn’t her forever home, anymore.

Camilia was over the stove, making an omelette, still humming gently to herself. “Morning, mom,” Luz said, rubbing at one of her eyes. This song wasn’t one she recognised – her mom must’ve added to the playlist since last week.

She turned, abandoning the stove for a minute to give Luz a hug. “Buenos días, cariño.” She said into the top of Luz’s head, placing a kiss there. “¿Dormiste bien anoche?”

“Sí, mama,” Luz said, as Camilia pulled away, to look at the omelette. “?es eso una tortilla?”

“Sí. Para usted y Amity.” Camilia flipped it, before sparing Luz another glance. “Is she awake?”

“She hasn’t come down yet?” Luz asked. “She’s usually up so early when we’re at the Owl House.”

“Hmm.” Camilia said. “She will wake later. Maybe you can wake her up, for breakfast?”

Luz nodded, and her mom returned to her gentle humming. Amity was an early riser; or at least, had been back at the Boiling Isles. But maybe it was just the waking up besides Luz that she had a problem with, which was why she went down to Eda.

She wandered off, because today was a free day – she could really do whatever she wanted – and ended up on the couch, flicking through TV channels. One of the things Luz hadn’t missed when she transferred to the Boiling Isles was a TV; she’d had the DVD player, and all her favourites, on hand, and if she really missed it, she’d just wait until the weekend. But whenever she returned to the human world, it once again became a mindless hobby to fall back on.

The stairs behind her creaked, and Luz turned. There stood Amity, already dressed and clean, wringing her hands in front of her. “I heard voices,” Amity said, by way of a greeting.

“Good morning!” Luz greeted, pushing thoughts of Amity-doesn’t-feel-comfortable-waking-up-next-to-me away, because they were ridiculous and none of her business. “I hope you’re hungry. My mom’s making omelettes!”

* * *

One omelette, and one very troubled recantation of what an egg was, later, the three were seated at a table. Amity, once again had been silent – Luz had sort of come to expect this from her – but after she’d finished eating anything she could choke on, Camilia had turned the focus, kindly, to Amity.

“I know Luz takes them all,” Camilia was saying, “but you specialise in one?”

“Yeah,” Amity said. “I do abomination magic.”

“Abomination?” Camilia’s eyebrows furrowed, and she turned to Luz for an explanation.

“La abominación es un poco como un monstruo, mamá.” Luz explained.

“Oh, right,” Camilia said, redirecting her smile back to Amity. “That must be hard work, no?”

“Yeah,” Amity said with a bout of awkward laughter. Her hands were under the table – Luz was half-sure they were wringing about, anxiously. “It is.”

Camilia waited another second, nodding encouragingly, before realizing she wouldn’t get any more of that answer. “And how did you meet Luz?”

Amity’s mouth opened – her eyes diverted to Luz – but no words came out. Luz could only watch, as Amity realized she wasn’t saying anything, and her cheeks began to darken, amber eyes taking on a shimmery gloss.

“At school,” Luz jumped in. “She’s Willow’s friend.”

“I know Willow!” Camilia said with a smile, not commenting on Amity’s choke up. Amity was looking down at her empty plate, feet kicking under the table, brushing against the side of Luz’s chair. “She is a lovely girl.”

“Yeah!” Luz said, smiling. “Amity – I don’t think the Boiling Isles has hospitals, but my mom’s a nurse. That means she heals people without magic.”

“Oh, cool!” Amity said, obviously trying to scrounge up some form of enthusiasm, but falling a little short.

“You have healing magic?” Camilia asked Amity.

“Oh, no,” she said, the red curling all the way up to her ears now. “I’m only an abomination witch.”

“I’m the only one that studies all of them,” Luz said, trying to help. “Like I said; I made it up! Well, with the help from my detention-track friends, of course.”

Camilia nodded. “And why did you pick abomination?”

“Because it’s her best subject,” Luz jumped in. Amity’s head was still dropped, and her ears were very visibly drooping; she figured she could help. “Amity’s really good at abominations – this one time, we had a duel at the-“

“Luz, mi querida, Amity has a voice. Please let her use it.”

Luz immediately quietened – her mother’s tone had been without bite, and Luz knew she had a bit of a problem with interrupting people. But this time… she thought Amity…

Amity’s eyes were wide with shock. “It’s okay!” She said hurriedly. “I don’t mind it! Luz did nothing wrong.”

“Yes,” Camilia started, “But I want to hear your voice, conejita.”

“O-okay,” Amity said. She cleared her throat. “Um… I… we did have duel, me and Luz. And I’m top of my abominations class.”

“She has been for three years running,” Luz piped in, miming a zipping motion to her mouth when her mother looked over.

“Very impressive!” Camilia said, smiling warmly at Amity. “You must be very smart.”

“Oh – thank you, uh. Ma’am.” Amity said.

Amity’s eyes flickered to Luz, as if she were searching for some validation in her friend. Luz smiled – trying to convey all her you did good vibes into one look.

She wasn’t sure if her exact message got across, but the tension in Amity’s shoulders subsided a little, and Luz thought that was good enough.

* * *

Luz and Amity spent the day exploring. Amity donned the too-large beanie for her ears, and wore pointedly not very human looking clothes (Luz offered her own, but Amity was pretty set on wearing her weird witch-fashions.) Firstly, they went to Luz’s favourite hangout spot, a park – which apparently was very weird.

(“You don’t have parks in the Boiling Isles?”

“Well, yeah, we do… but not for children!”

“What else would a park be for?”)

Then they watched a movie – Luz had given Amity the choice between a romance and a horror, and Amity had been so opposed to watching the romance that they’d walked into the horror movie with one large popcorn and far too little doubt. By the end, the popcorn was everywhere but their stomachs – and both girls were far too shaken to walk for a couple of minutes.

They walked home, Luz gripping Amity’s arm to steady her still-shaken legs, half-giggling about how ridiculous the two of them were, screaming at some low-budget movie because she’d become desensitized to the genre, half trying to correctly navigate Amity in the right direction. It hadn’t rained, but it had gotten significantly colder, and Luz was really contemplating stealing the beanie straight off Amity’s head, if only to keep out the bite of the cold wind on her ears.

“That’s the coffee shop I wanted to work at,” Luz pointed out on their walk. “It’s really cute inside; books as decoration, that you can buy. It’s where I got my Azura book.”

“It’s pretty,” said Amity. “Can we go inside?”

“Well it’s closed right now, silly,” Luz chuckled. “But we can definitely come back the next time we’re in the human world. Maybe you can buy a book?”

“I’d like that,” Amity said honestly. And suddenly Luz’s hands were burning where they made contact with Amity’s arm, and she was acutely aware of every part of her pressed to her friend. She did that a lot – Amity said something cute, and Luz was reminded that her friend was really pretty.

She pushed it aside. “I’d like it, too! And hey, maybe I can buy you a super overpriced coffee.”

“Overpriced?”

“Yeah – they charge, lile, $5 for a small cup in there. It’s good stuff! Just… don’t really want to break the bank, you know?”

“…What’s a ‘bank’?”

* * *

Sunday comes, and passes – and all too soon, Luz is hugging her mom goodbye.

“I’ll miss you, mija,” Camilia says into her hair, placing a tender kiss to the crown of her head. Camilia’s hugs are different to Eda’s – not necessarily nicer, but… warmer, more familiar. Luz gets lost in it, in the familiar hospital-mixed-with-a-flowery-perfume scent that her mother has always seemed to carry.

“I’ll see your Friday,” Luz says instead of a goodbye, pulling back. She looks her mom up and down – and reaches in one final time, squeezing.

She tries not to notice that her mom’s voice is tighter than it was earlier when Camilia says, “pass that dish on to Eda, alright?”

“I will.” Luz promises. “Friday.”

Camilia turns to Amity. “It was lovely meeting you,” she says, outstretching her hand.

“You too,” Amity says, giving it a firm shake. “Thank you for having me.”

“It was all my pleasure. Will I be seeing you next week?”

Amity looked to Luz for a moment. “Yeah,” she said. “I hope so.”

The door opened, and Eda waved at them from the other side. “Camilia,” Eda said, hand dropping. “Lovely to see you.”

“The girls had a great time,” Camilia said, that familiar passive-aggressive smile gracing her lips. “Take care of them.”

“Oh, I will,” Eda said. “I happen to be a very good mother figure.”

“Me, too!” Camilia let out a stark laugh. “Isn’t that such a coincidence?”

“Mom,” Luz said with an eye-roll. “I’ll see you. Be careful at work.”

“Be careful with your magic,” her mom said back. “I don’t want you to come back next week missing a limb.”

“I would never let that happen!” Eda called. Camilia’s eye roll was far more over-the-top than it needed to be, but she still pulled Luz into another hug – squeezing tight.

Eventually, they had to pull away – and Camilia smiled warmly at the two girls. “Bye now!” She says, waving. “See you both next Friday!”

Luz disappeared through the door first, hugging Eda tightly (and being secretly happy when Eda squeezed back). Amity was through a second later, and the door closed.

“I missed you,” Eda said. “You bring me anything?”

“My mom made something, actually,” Luz said. “Food. In my bag. And Amity and I bought you a new DVD – I think you’ll like it. It’s called The Exorcist.”

“Ooh, creepy,” Eda said. “Welcome home, you two.”

Luz grinned. “Where’s King?”

“Right here!” King called, coming into the room. “I was going to make you a surprise cake, but we were all out of magic mixture – so I thought I would just scare you!”

“I’m terrified, King! Good job.” Luz laughed. “I missed you, you cutie little munchkin.”

“I am not cute!” King said. “I am scary! I’m the King of all demons!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Luz let out a surprisingly long yawn. “We should probably unpack, before we’re too tired. Amity, you coming?”

“Yeah,” Amity said quietly.

Luz lead the way up the stairs, and into their bedroom (huh, she’d started calling it ‘their.’) After dumping her bag to the side, Luz collapsed face-first into her bed, letting out a groan.

“I missed this pillow,” she said, arms coming up to hug it slightly. Amity dropped her bag at the end of her bed, perching on the mattress and watching Luz. Luz adjusted her head, so she could look back at Amity. “What?” Luz asked, quieter and more genuine with curiosity.

Amity shook her head. “Your family is just so… different,” she said. “I never know what to expect.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Luz rolled over slightly.

“No,” Amity said after a while. “It’s nice. It’ll take a while to get used to, but… it’s nice.”

Luz nodded. “We really like having you, Amity,” she said honestly. Amity’s ears went pink, and her eyes dropped to the floor adorably.

“I like it here, too,” she said.

Chapter 6: encounters

Chapter Text

On Monday morning, the grass was dry, and burnt – a sure sign that, sometime in Luz’s sleep, the acid-rain of the Boiling Isles had attacked. She’d been lulled to sleep early by Amity’s assurances replaying in her head, and had woken later than her roommate (roommate? Luz much preferred contemplating over what exactly Amity was to her, then the issue of was-Amity-really-not-comfortable-sharing-a-room, or-was-Luz-just-projecting?) Heading downstairs, she’d once again heard voices.

“And then she refused to bow to me!” King was saying in an outraged tone. “Isn’t that so rude?”

“Keep going,” Eda said with a laugh. “Amity wants to hear your squeak of rage.”

Luz padded down the stairs, turning a corner into the living room, rubbing at one of her eyes. Nobody seemed to notice her presence – the couch was faced away from her, ruling out Eda and Amity, and King was just about a foot tall, and so caught up in his story, he probably wasn’t even looking.

“At least she didn’t pick me up,” King growled. “I am not your ‘little guy.’ I am the King of Demons!”

Amity nodded fervently, and Luz couldn’t hold back a small laugh.

Eda’s head was the first to turn. “Ah,” she said. “Luz is up.”

“Good morning, everyone!” Luz greeted, unable to stop a grin from coming to her lips. Amity and King were turning, too – offering silent greetings of their own. “Now that I’m awake – we can leave for school!”

“Nuh-uh,” Eda held up a protesting hand. “Not without breakfast. I’m not letting Camilia out-do me on this one.”

“Um, don’t you mean you love us so much and don’t want us to go to school hungry?”

Eda stood, cracking her back kind of unnaturally, but managing to stand back up (Luz had been horrified the first time this had happened… but then again, Eda had been decapitated before.) “Yeah, yeah,” she said. “Give me five minutes.”

“Good morning Amity,” Luz said, grinning as the witch turned to face her. Amity offered Luz her own small smile in return – a hand coming up to wave.

“Hey! What about me? What about our comedy hour?”

Eda’s groan was audible from the next door, as Luz’s eyes landed on King. “Aww,” she said, face turning into a familiar pout, arms coming out as if to squeeze King up in the kind of hugs she’d given him when they first met. “Does someone miss me?”

“No!” King said. “I just appreciate our combined humour!”

“Comedy… hour?” Asked Amity, looking from Luz to King.

“Yeah,” said Luz, coming round and sitting on the part of the couch Eda had just vacated. “Me and King used to do a comedy hour in the mornings; drove Eda nuts.”

“You don’t anymore?” Amity asked.

“Well…” Luz looked to King. “We do sometimes,” she said. “Not as often, I suppose.”

“My duties to the demon realm took priority!” King said. “And Luz wanted to learn.”

Amity was nodding. For a moment, Luz looked at her – to King again, and then back. Amity had seemed… curious. She’d initiated a conversation.

“Alright, food’s almost ready! Luz and Amity, go get dressed.” Eda called from the kitchen. “And no funny ideas about the return of comedy hour!”

* * *

The walk to school was short, and not as bright as Luz liked it. Plants in the Boiling Isles regrew fast, and she knew by the end of the day the ground would be a sea of vivid colour; but staring at the shrivelled yellow put a weird pit in her stomach.

They didn’t talk much on that walk – Amity’s previously-found confidence having dissipated into the cool air. They walked, and kept to themselves. Luz couldn’t help wondering what Amity could be thinking about.

And then they’d arrived at school, and split up. For a while, at least.

Luz was in her Beast Keeping class in the gym, when she spotted Amity by the door. She was pacing, wide-eyed and frantic, with tension delicately sewn into the muscles all the way up her back and through her shoulders. She looked… just about ready to explode.

And then she’d seen Luz, looking her way, and stormed into the classroom. Nobody was really paying attention to Luz (other than a few mishaps at the start of the year, she tended to do pretty well with animals), so Amity was able to take her hand, and drag her out.

“What?” Luz asked, all traces of humour that’d usually be in her voice gone. Amity was scared, and holding her hand.

“It’s my parents,” Amity said, gulping. “They’re in the office – looking for me. I spotted them a couple minutes ago. If they find me, Luz, I-“

“Hey,” Luz said, her free hand reaching up to cup Amity’s cheek – an attempt to focus her thoughts. Luz’s hands were cold, so it must’ve been a little harsher than she would’ve liked, but it worked. “We’ll fix this,” she said to Amity. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

Luz took a deep breath, eyes concentrating on Amity’s own gold-flecked ones, murmuring a “good,” as Amity mimicked the inhale. “And out,” Luz said, exhaling slowly. They repeated the breath a couple times, Luz’s hand still on Amity’s cheek – the other, squeezing her hand and hoping that it conveyed as much comfort as she meant it to. “Okay. If we leave, they might be watching the entrance. So, we hide.”

“Where?” Amity asked. “My parents are donors to this school – they know the classrooms inside-out.”

A ping seemed to go off in Luz’s brain, and she let her hand drop from Amity’s cheek. “I have an idea,” she said, a grin growing. “What if we don’t hide in a classroom?”

* * *

“This is insane,” Amity informed Luz for the fifth time as Luz drew the chalk square, opening up a magical doorway. “How do you even know about this place?”

“Reasons,” Luz shrugged. “Now come on – I don’t know how much time we have.”

They crawled through the doorway, and into the shortcuts room Viney had shown her all that time ago. The girl in question was sitting just to the side, a book in hand – guarding the entrance. “Oh, hey,” she said as Luz crawled un-gracefully out, landing on her back. Amity followed, somehow ending up on her feet.

“Hey, Viney!” Luz said. “Where’s the vent that lets you hear into Principal Bump’s office?”

Viney pointed with one hand. “Thanks,” Luz said. “I miss you, by the way – we should totally hang out some time.”

Viney looked up at that, smiling. “Sure. Hey – Amity, right?”

Amity paled at the recognition. “Yeah,” she said. “Viney?”

Viney nodded. “How’s your sister?”

“Oh, Emira?” Amity laughed nervously. “She’s… doing good. Liking her trek, and all that.”

Viney nodded, returning to her book. “Can’t believe she graduated before me,” Viney mumbled. “Does she still have penstagram?”

“Oh, sure,” Amity said. “But – I think her group went up to the Malevolent Mountains? You don’t really get any service up there, with… all that snow.”

“Cool, cool,” Viney said. “Off you two go, then.”

Luz re-took Amity’s hand, leading their way through the hallway and into the vast room of shortcuts. “Woah,” Amity said, head tilted upwards. “This place is amazing.”

“I know, right?” Luz giggled. “I discovered it way back when I just joined Hexside, in the detention track, but now I only use it when I’m late for class.”

Amity turned to Luz, a look of solemnity cementing her features. “Where’s that vent?” She asked.

“Right, right,” Luz said. “Um – I’m pretty sure it’s that one?”

They wandered over, Amity dropping Luz’s hand (subconsciously, she hoped) and peering into the vent. Amity sucked in a breath at the sight.

“What?” Luz asked, peering in besides Amity.

Mr and Mrs Blight stood on one side of Principal Bump’s desk. Mr Blight was further back than his wife, arms crossed and expression somewhat stern, but in no way intimidating. It was Mrs Blight that gave her the shivers – with a mockingly sweet smile, and her hands delicately placed on Principal Bump’s desk, fingernails digging into the wood like talons. They were having a conversation – every word out of Mrs Blight’s mouth dripped with a saccharine poison, level and yet terrifying. Principal Bump was sweating.

Luz looked over to Amity – to her hands that had curled into fists in the fabric of her uniform. “Hey,” Luz whispered – anything louder felt forbidden, almost. “It’ll be okay.”

Amity’s fists loosened. Luz turned back to the vent.

“-so I don’t see why we can’t just visit her in class, you see?” Mrs Blight was saying. “We do so much for this school, and I’d personally like a little repayment.”

“It’s – it’s against protocol,” Bump stuttered out. “We couldn’t let you go in even if I wanted to.”

“But I just think there’s always an exception to the rules,” her claws dug into the desk, and a piece of the wood splintered upwards. Bump flinched. “And we’d be the first to make use of that exception, right?”

“Of course,” Bump said. The splinter deepened.

“Honey-“ Mr Blight went to say, a hand coming out to reach for her shoulder. Mrs Blight was upright in an instant, one hand that had previously been dug halfway into the desk, now holding her husband’s wrist.

“I’m taking care of things, sweetheart.” She said; the words giving Luz chills. “Be a pet and stay out of it?”

Luz didn’t know what she was expecting to happen – but Mrs Blight let go of his wrist, and he retreated into his defensive position.

“Now,” Mrs Blight flicked a piece of hair over her shoulder. “Where were we?”

“I – I could call her on the intercom,” Bump suggested. “That’s allowed.”

“And alert her to our presence?” She let out a cold, empty laugh. “How on earth do you think that’ll work?”

“I could just not mention you?” Bump suggested. “Gifted students get called up here all the time.”

Mrs Blight spared a glance to her husband that seemed more symbolic than anything. “Very well,” she said dismissively, dipping into one of the chairs that had presumably been pushed aside when they came into the office. Mrs Blight inspected her nails as if the digging-into-the-desk had been a mere inconvenience that scratched some polish off. “Call her in, then.”

Principal Bump took a second to understand the words – shocked, perhaps, at the first non-threatening words out of her mouth. He cleared his throat, and pressed his finger to the intercom. “Amity Blight to Principal Bump’s office,” he said, voice a little too croaky. The words echoed from his mouth, to overhead on the speakers. Amity, besides her, was pale. Bump repeated the message.

“Hey,” Luz said. “It’s fine. We’re safe here – and we can escape.”

Amity nodded, but the words didn’t seem to have set in – she was still pale, and shaking slightly. Luz expected her to collapse on her feet, so she guided her down to the floor outside the vent. “I’m here,” Luz said, “and so is a large amount of the student body, if we ask. They won’t get to you.”

Amity was shaking her head now. “You don’t know the power my parents have,” she said, letting out a long sigh. Her head tilted back, hitting the wall they were pressed against with a dull thud. “I should have known. I should have never run away.”

“Hey,” Luz placed her hand on Amity’s arm. “We’ll figure out a way to get past this, okay?”

“And now I’ve dragged you and Eda into this; they’ll ruin Eda’s potions career. They’ll have her arrested, and you expelled. And it’s all my fault.”

“Woah, woah,” Luz said. “It’s been two weeks. They can’t get Eda fired for taking care of you!”

“They’ll think she’s had me for two months,” Amity said, turning to her. The hopelessness in amidst the gold was a deep pit; one that Luz couldn’t even hope to quell. “That’s how long I’ve been missing.”

“But – you came to the Owl House two weeks ago.”

Amity shrugged. “I was staying in the library – using the public bathroom, and the school showers. But one night – the night I came to you – they showed up at the library, from some tip they’d gotten from Ed or something. They were so close to finding me, so I ran.”

“Two months.” Luz said, after a moment of quiet. Mrs Blight’s voice was a muted hum of threat from the other side of the vent. “And they’re just now showing up at the school?”

“They don’t like handling things publicly. I expect this is very hard for my mother,” Amity scoffed at that, arms coming up to cross over her chest. Her head dipped, and she drew her knees up so she could look straight at them. “But it’s over now. They’ve got me.”

“No, they haven’t,” Viney said. Luz looked up to see the girl standing in front of them, lips quirked as if she knew something they didn’t (and Luz wouldn’t put it past the girl – Viney seemed to know everything.) “Sorry; I was listening, I couldn’t help it. But there’s no way we’re letting your family get you, kid. Come on.”

Luz stood almost without hesitation, but Amity’s movements were slower, more calculated, cautious. “What are we doing?” She asked Viney, although her eyes were on Luz.

“There’s a door, up there – leads straight out the back of the school, by the grudgby court. You get past that, and you’re free.” Viney pointed upwards, to one of the many slanted doors that ran all the way up and down the walls. “I’m pretty sure we could cause a distraction.”

“We?” Luz asked.

“Oh, yeah – you bet Jerbo and Barcus will want to help with this.”

“Okay,” Luz took a breath, looking up. The stairs were uneven, and tended to move when you put pressure on them (which wise-nut enchanted that feature?). An adventure, then. She’d be going on an adventure. And, Luz supposed, she couldn’t really complain – she had wanted one.

They took the stairs cautiously, but hastily, and in single file. Luz was in front – and for logical reasons, she knew Amity was behind her, and turning back to check would cut her concentration, and waste her time – but she couldn’t help the glances she spared every time they rounded a bend, and a glance could be passed off somewhat. This was an adventure. Luz was a knight from a city unknown, all muscular and smart and handsome - and Amity was the damsel in distress she had to get to safety.

Eventually, they reached the door – double checking it was actually the door with a glance down to Viney, who gave a large thumbs-up before disappearing through a shortcut of her own. “Alright,” Luz said, looking back to Amity. “We’re halfway there. When we open that door, we make a run for it.”

“Amity Blight to the Principal’s office,” came Bump’s words over the intercom. There was a notable line of irritation in his voice, now – cutting through the previous calm. He repeated the message, and the intercom went silent.

Amity spared a glance at Luz – before grabbing the door, and pushing it open.

* * *

“So,” Luz gulped in a breath, “that’s why,” her hands fell to her knees as she hunched over, “you didn’t want to go to school?”

“Yeah,” Amity said, in the same winded state as Luz was. She was flushed slightly, chest heaving with deep gulps of air.

“That makes sense,” Luz said. “You’re not the type to skip.”

“I thought,” Amity swallowed, “they were close to finding me.”

Luz spared herself a few moments to regain her breath, before she straightened up. “Alright,” she said. “You probably don’t want to talk about it with me yet – which is fine, I’ll be here whenever you’re ready – but we should get a system in place where we can escape like that if they ever show up again.”

“Yeah?” Amity asked.

“I mean, do you think they’ll show up at the school again?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Alright,” Luz said. “Then we build a support system, and figure out how to get you out of there each time. And I know exactly who to ask.”

Chapter 7: the protection squad

Chapter Text

“Okay,” Luz took a breath. “So, as you all know, I gathered you all here today.”

Nods circulated the living room of the Owl House. Five figures sat on the floor, in some vague recollection of a circle. Gus and Willow had been conversing, and Boscha had been doing something on her scroll. Viney had just walked in, and was taking a seat in between the fireplace and the couch. Nobody spoke.

“I’s for a pretty important reason, actually.” Luz continued. “It’s for Amity.”

“Woah,” Amity said as five pairs of eyes suddenly moved onto her. “You said you’d talk. Don’t put this on me.”

“Right, right!” Luz said, chuckling awkwardly. “I just forgot how much I hate public speaking. Anyway! We’re here… because…”

“Just spit it out,” Boscha said from her seat leaning against the fireplace. “We haven’t got all day.”

“Yes. Okay. So…” Luz gulped.

“My parents are dickwads,” Amity cut in. Luz shot her a half-confused look.

Willow, Viney and Boscha all seemed to snort in tandem. “No sh*t,” Boscha said. “And what about it?”

“Well, she’s not staying at the Blight Manor right now, which pisses them off – I’d say understandably, but it really isn’t – so I guess my point is we’re asking for your help.” Luz took over again, after a moment of silence to ensure Amity didn’t want to answer the question herself.

Once again, Luz was met with silence. “Help with what?” Gus prompted.

“Oh. Right.” Luz felt like smacking herself – and she was sure Amity felt like hitting her, too. “Sorry. Help with escaping them.”

“Forever?” Viney asked.

“Maybe?” Luz looked to her left, where Amity was curled back up in that quilted blanket she’d practically adopted, back against the couch. “But right now, it’s just for when they try and kidnap her to imprison her back at the Blight Manor. You know, like they did yesterday.”

Amity sighed. “Basically,” she began, “I’m asking for your help whenever they show up at the school, to create some kind of diversion.”

“And collect her homework,” Luz added – and then, “what? Your studies are important, too.”

“So… like a secret mission?” Gus asked. “I’m always down to eat the rich.”

“Hold on,” Viney said. “I was gonna agree – but we’re eating them?”

“No, don’t worry,” Luz said, reaching out to Gus to receive a high five. “It’s a human phrase. No eating will be happening – only very intense resentment.”

“We’ll set traps, right?” Willow asked. “To get Amity out.”

“Exactly,” Luz grinned. “But before you agree, we know it’s a lot to ask. So, if you’re not up for sort of breaking the law, you can leave now.”

Luz looked around the room. Nobody moved. “Sweet,” she said after a moment. “Let’s kick some Blight ass, then.”

Amity shook her head, leaning into Luz. “You’re so dramatic, you know that?” She mumbled, hot air hitting the bare skin of Luz’s neck in just the right – wrong – way. “All that speech for nothing.”

“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?” Luz muttered back. “I got a whole gang together.”

Amity hummed, leaning back into her space, an almost-smile on her lips. “Anyway,” Luz said. “Business time. The Blights know the school inside out, because they helped build the place. So the diversion will have to be pretty big. For now, we could keep using the secret tunnel Viney showed us,” Luz gestured vaguely with her hands, and several heads turned to Viney, who they hadn’t met yet. Viney lifted a hand and offered a wave of greeting that, on absolutely anybody else, would’ve come off as dorky. “Except, I’m thinking maybe we should save that as a last resort?”

“That makes sense,” said Gus, nodding sagely. “So I’m thinking illusion magic.”

“Illusion magic is the easiest to break, though.” Willow said. “What if we use plants to block entire corridors?”

“Or we could avoid the breaking of public property and just set a couple of beasts loose?” Viney suggested. “That worked pretty well last time.”

“Amity could always switch schools,” Boscha offered. “That’s an easy way to avoid that problem.”

“You need parents to file the paperwork for it,” Amity said. “And even if I could fake that, Belos would never let me.”

Boscha nodded. “Okay. Why are we insisting school is mandatory, though?”

“Without it, she’ll never get the chance to escape!” Luz said. “Without school, there’s no opportunities. She can’t even go on a trek!”

“School isn’t everything,” Boscha said. “I mean, you could just move away, right? They’d never disinherit you – too much public drama.”

“I have no money, though.” Amity said. “And I’d need to finish school to get some.”

Boscha leant back, nodding. “Alright. Never mind, then. Next option.”

“I still think the beast idea is good?” Viney offered. “I mean, it’s worked before.”

“Right,” Luz nodded. “So, if we’re thinking beasts… how do we leave?”

“Out the front door?” Willow offered. “Let’s just block Amity’s parents off from her.”

“Why don’t we use the tunnel under the gym?” Gus offered. “I mean, now that the Grom is gone, it’s free.”

“That’s actually a pretty good idea,” Boscha said. “Nice one.”

“Uh, thanks.” Gus nodded at Boscha. Boscha nodded back.

“Perfect!” Luz clapped her hands, turning to Amity. “So we release the beasts from the gym, and then run into the gym – the exact opposite of where they’d expect. That sounds great.”

“And we can leave that way?” Amity asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Gus said. “I happen to know that area now leads in a perfect tunnel straight out of the school, now that it’s no longer in use.”

“Alright,” said Amity, scepticism in her voice. “How will we all know when we need to escape?”

“You can modify the bell, and call a fire drill.” Viney inputted. “I found out sometime last year that if you tickle it, it laughs. That can be our signal.”

“You just… found that out?” Luz asked. Viney shrugged.

“That sounds good,” Willow said with a breath. “Operation: Amity protection squad.”

“You’re such a dork,” Amity said to Willow, a foot kicking out to lightly nudge at her ex-friend’s thigh. Amity was wearing a soft smile that mirrored Willow, and a current of understanding passed between the two of them.

“I like that name,” Gus said.

“I do, too.” Luz said. “So it’s sorted?”

* * *

“Well then,” Luz said, after waving Willow and Gus goodbye – marking the last of their friends to leave the Owl House. “This was a pretty heavy day, huh? Productive – but heavy. How are you doing?”

Amity shrugged. “I’m okay.”

Luz studied her for a moment – the quilted blanket had become a staple in Amity’s time at the Owl House, and she seemed to wear it only when something was wrong. It was as if it acted as a shield, and if she clutched it hard enough, it’d protect her.

“Are you sure?” Luz asked. “Because I’d be super willing to listen.”

Amity’s eyes fell to the floor, colour brightening her cheeks slightly. “Can we sit?” She asked quietly.

Luz blinked. “Sure!” She said hurriedly, walking back into the living room. “Okay.”

Luz took the seat she’d seen Eda take every morning for two years, and watched as Amity slumped into the opposite corner of the couch, curling her feet up underneath her. “So what’s up?” Luz asked.

Amity shrugged, the action made almost comical by the bulk of blanket amplifying her shoulders. “I… I guess I’m having a bit of trouble.”

Luz hummed. She wanted to be a good listener – encouraging, and quiet.

“A lot has been happening,” Amity continued. A hand peeked out from under her blanket, and she began to bite slightly at one of her nails. “And… I guess I’m on the edge quite a lot?”

“That makes sense,” Luz said quietly, nodding.

“I’ve always been pretty good at compartmentalising,” said Amity, “but recently… I guess it’s like there’s too much to compartmentalise.”

Clicking from upstairs paused their conversation – and Luz watched Amity’s neck crane up awkwardly fast. The footsteps stopped a moment later.

“Hey,” Luz said. “How about I make us some hot stag beetle juice, and we go up to the bedroom?”

Amity’s hand dropped, and she nodded timidly. Luz smiled as softly as she could, standing up.

Alright. Hot stag beetle juice. She could do that. She needed mugs.

As Luz prepared the juice, she heard the footsteps again – probably Eda doing some weird bout of cleaning, or something. She thought of Amity’s jerky reaction, to the point of it looking painful. Gods, Amity really had been on the edge… and she hadn’t noticed.

Luz had good things about her. She knew this. For example: she was a great listener. She could empathise. She was determined, and strong, and pretty talented at magic considering how far behind all the others she was supposed to be. But she was so damn oblivious. To how Amity was feeling. Until it was too late.

She could push and push, but Amity was quiet – so she’d just have to get better at reading her.

“Alright,” Luz said, picking up the two mugs. “Stag juice for you, and water for me. Let’s go upstairs?”

Amity took the mug in the same way she had back when she first came to the Owl House – as if she were conserving its warmth with her pale fingers, preparing to steal that heat she so desperately needed. She stood as if the task were a huge milestone, and her steps almost dragged behind Luz. Her amber eyes had fallen to the floor.

Luz’s stomach was a pit of snakes.

They reached the bedroom (their bedroom? Luz didn’t quite know what to call it, yet) and Luz sat first. “Okay,” she said again. “We were talking about compartmentalising.”

Amity’s actions were slow. She took a sip of the stag juice, seeming to savour it for a few moments before swallowing. She let herself inhale deeply.

“Sometimes I think about what I’m missing out on,” Amity admitted. “With the whole family thing. I – I look at you and Eda, and Camilia, and… it sounds kind of stupid, but I want that.”

Luz nodded, despite her mind being a flurry. Was she making things worse for Amity?

“I just… I get sad when I think about how I’ll never have that kind of relationship. I’d usually be able to compartmentalise that… but it’s not really working anymore. Now the sadness is spilling over into all the other sections, and I can’t control it.”

“So… you’re overwhelmed, which is making your sadness about your family worse,” Luz said once she was sure Amity was done. Amity nodded, sipping at the stag juice again. “But you don’t want a relationship with your parents.”

“Titan, no,” Amity said. “I’d rather never see them again.”

“What about…” Luz hesitated. “What about the twins?”

Amity shrugged. “They don’t care about me. Emira’s off on her trek, and Ed’s started university already.”

“How does that make you feel?” Luz asked. She hoped that line wasn’t as much of a cliché here as it was in the human realm.

Amity shrugged. “Sad, I guess.” She said. “I don’t think they knew the full extent of my relationship with my parents, but… they still abandoned me.”

Luz reached out, taking one of Amity’s hands in her own. Amity placed the mug down on the floor. “So now everybody has somebody, and I’m just… here.” Amity said. “I’m alone. I pushed everybody way because of my parents, and now I can’t get that back.”

“You have me,” Luz offered, squeezing Amity’s hand. “And Eda. And King. And Willow, and Gus, and Boscha. You just can’t see it yet.”

Amity shook her head. Luz moved over to sit besides Amity on her bed, and was surprised when Amity placed her head on Luz’s shoulder. “I can’t see what isn’t there, Luz,” Amity sniffled. “I just… have to deal with this.”

“No, you don’t.” Luz said. Her free hand, not intertwined with Amity’s, lifted up to stroke the girl’s slowly-growing green hair. “Not alone, at least.”

Amity sniffed, burrowing her face into Luz’s neck. Luz wasn’t sure, but it felt like Amity was crying. Her hand moved from stroking Amity’s hair to wrapping her up in a hug. “I’m here,” Luz said, placing a tender kiss to Amity’s head like her mama used to do with her. Amity reached out of the blanket, arms wrapping around Luz’s ribs. “I’ll always be here,” Luz continued, the words whispered into Amity’s hair. “I promise. Prometo. Estoy aquí.”

Amity was a warmth in her arms – a constant, and a comfort. Luz knew she shouldn’t be thinking about it – she knew, because she was supposed to be a really good friend right now, but she couldn’t help but focus on how Amity felt in her arms. How good Amity felt in her arms.

That was a problem for another time, though.

Chapter 8: not-love

Chapter Text

To fall in love with a person, somebody once told Luz, was a lot to do with observation. The first step was always looking at the way they moved. How they held a pencil, perhaps – how much butter they put on their bread, or whether they put their right or left shoe on first. Because watching somebody’s mannerisms, when they believed nobody was paying attention, was a great way to get to know somebody, they’d said. The innocence of isolation. Then, after you observed, you found the beauty in each action. The brightness in their eyes when they saw what was for breakfast. The dance of their fingers along the bannister as they walked up the stairs. The elegant way in which they stretched their arms over their head when they woke up; a delicate, open arch.

Luz Noceda was not in love with Amity Blight; fact. She was young – barely brushing the cusp of seventeen, and balancing two separate lives, both of which she cared so immensely about it almost overwhelmed her. She didn’t even know what love was, for spirits’ sake. That was too bold a claim to make. However, now that Luz had tuned closer into Amity than before, she had begun to see reasons (reasons that were, apparently and unfortunately, infinite) that would justify somebody falling in love with her. Also fact. Like how Amity needed a few minutes of peace, like a silent meditation, before she was able to sleep, which she usually spent looking silently out of the window and at the stars. Or, maybe, how she made her bed every morning, and three days into her stay at the Owl House she’d began folding the top corner of the blanket like Luz was always taught to, so their beds would be matching.

This… was a problem.

Back to the facts. Luz couldn’t be in love with Amity, because she’d never experienced love, and had nothing to compare her feelings to. Kind of iffy, but still a fact. However, Luz really liked Amity – touching Amity, or being near her, or… having her in her arms. Fine. She was a physically affectionate person, first of all – she liked hugging everybody. Amity was just a new addition to her relationship circle – of which, she hadn’t had an addition in a long time. She’d just forgotten how it felt to make a new friend.

And even if it were some almost-but-not-quite feeling of love, Luz had prepared a list of why that would be the worst idea in the world:

Firstly, there was no time for love. That dual-life thing tended to take up a lot of time, and required a focus that love wouldn’t allow. Luz had responsibilities to everybody else in her life. She couldn’t just go and give her feelings away to her strictly-platonic friend. That’d just be mean.

And secondly, the… morality of it all. If witch psyche worked in anywhere near the same way human psyche did (which Luz suspected it did, because considering how she’d judged the people she surrounded herself with way back when she first showed up in the Boiling Isles, and how right her assumptions had turned out to be, there had to be at least some commonalities), Luz was setting herself up for a hero complex. If Amity was feeling anything for Luz – which, doubtful, because who would? – it wouldn’t be love. It would be admiration. For letting her stay at the Owl House, and dealing with her parents that one time. And even then, if it wasn’t that, it’d be the worse alternative – Amity would feel obliged to return Luz’s feelings out of fear of being kicked out, and their relationship would end up being toxic and one-sided. She didn’t want that.

…Okay, so now that she was thinking about it, it couldn’t hurt to think a little more… right? She’d entertain the idea – and only for a moment – that Amity could possibly be crushing on her, too. Amity used to blush around her. She still does. She’d always thought Amity was too cold, or too warm, or embarrassed – but maybe not. However, they hadn’t spoken for almost two years straight before Amity showed up on her doorstep. For one year of that time, they hadn’t even smiled at each other in the corridors. That isn’t very crush-y behaviour.

But then even if they did date – even if Amity could crush on Luz, and Luz herself got over her nerves and confessed successfully – what if they broke up? They lived together, for spirits’ sake. There would be no escaping that awkwardness if they did break up.

There was also the option that Amity was straight – so Luz would have no chance at all (hypothetically, because this is all hypothetical, because Luz is not in love with Amity.) Can’t rule that one out.

“Hey,” Amity’s voice came a moment before Luz saw her – peering around the bedroom’s doorframe, glowing in her nonchalance. “Dinner’s ready.”

Words took a moment to come – Amity’s hair was an inch or so longer than her shoulders, now, and Luz was truly beginning to see the dark roots that indicated her natural hair colour. “Okay,” she said eventually, quietly.

Amity paused, entering the doorway fully, biting her lip in an almost confused way – which really didn’t help Luz. “Are you okay?” Amity asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’ve been… weird. All day.”

“I’m fine!” Luz shook her head. “Really. I’m just… peachy.”

Amity nodded slowly. “Okay.” She said. “Come down, then.”

And then she was gone, and Luz’s chest was tight with a feeling she’d definitely never felt for anybody else. Her fingertips tingled.

She was being stupid. She was being selfish. Who was she to take advantage of the situation her friend had been forced into? Amity was dealing with enough – she didn’t deserve Luz’s strange, messed-up ball of feelings to untangle, too.

Luz blew out a breath. She stood. She’d fight it. She was good at fighting things.

Besides, it wasn’t like she’d had a crush on Amity in the first place.

* * *

“You’re not hungry?”

Luz blinked out of her daydream – Eda was looking at Amity, who’d placed her cutlery down and was sitting patiently. She’d stiffened slightly at the address, her back becoming a board in line with the chair.

Luz looked down to Amity’s plate at the same time as Amity did, noting the few parts of food leftover. “Oh,” she said. “Is that alright?”

“Sure,” Eda said. “We’ll save the leftovers for tomorrow, anyway – won’t we, King?”

“Leftovers mean we feast!” King declared.

Amity nodded, relaxing slightly. Her feet tapped an intricate rhythm into the floorboards under the table. Huh. She seemed… more at home. Did she trust them, now?

“Hey Luz,” Eda addressed. “Stop daydreaming, and join the conversation.”

It was Luz’s turn to shoot up. “Sorry,” she said, hoping the heat in her cheeks didn’t show as a shade of pink to everybody else. “What did you say?”

* * *

“Alright,” said Luz. “Start with the vegetables?”

Eda had sent them out with a shopping list, a pouch full of snails – much more than they needed – and instructions to “treat themselves with the extra money.” So, Luz and Amity were trying to navigate the market-stalls, whilst also trying to read Eda’s chicken-scratch.

“There’s a vegetable stand up here,” Amity said.

They walked, silenced in amongst the somewhat bustling crowd. Amity was in front of Luz by a step or two, guiding them both to the stand she’d seen.

“What do we need from it?” Amity asked, turning her neck awkwardly. Luz looked down at the list – reciting all the vegetables she could spot – and Amity relayed it over to the witch on the market stall. He bagged them (some of them were moving, and it had been years, but Luz still found that strange) and held the bag out for Amity to take – which she did, exchanging several snails for the food. “Where too next?”

This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence – every once in a while, the authorities caught up a little too close for comfort, and Eda sent Luz out to do the household’s grocery shopping. She’d usually be accompanied by King, but the demon was busy today (something about an ‘excuse’, and ‘Eda’, and ‘date’ – she hadn’t really gotten a straight answer.) So… her and Amity.

Because Luz had been doing a lot of thinking about Amity (in a totally not-creepy way), she’d also been doing a lot of thinking about the day before. Amity had trusted her – her – enough to open up about her feelings. And she’d said… she was having trouble.

Luz had to do her best to help.

“Hey, Amity,” Luz said, jogging slightly to stand besides her, as they walked through the market-stalls. “So, I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

“What I said?” Amity asked innocently. Luz had handed her the list, and she was currently scouring over it. “When?”

“Yesterday,” Luz said. “You know – after the protection squad left.”

“Oh,” Amity’s hand dropped slowly, but she didn’t look at Luz. Her eyes were focussed on the path in front of them. “What about it?”

“Well,” Luz said. “I can’t do much about a bit of it, but I was thinking we could… set up a system. It’s really easy – doesn’t even require speaking – and it’s from the human world, so nobody else will know what we’re doing.”

They reached a market stall, and Luz paused, watching as Amity conversed with the man at the stand. Amity was good at communicating with the vendors, apparently. Very… to-the-point. Some may even refer to it as aggression. (That should not be endearing.)

“So, yeah,” Luz pushed on, mind caught on the idea now that she’d brought it up. “The human system – wow, I didn’t consider this, but you’ll probably find it really weird. Anyway… yeah.”

“Luz,” Amity said, turning to her. They stopped walking, in the middle of the crowd – people parted besides them to make way. She knew she should be concerned with how they were blocking people, and probably being a large public nuisance, but Amity was looking at her.

Amity really didn’t make eye contact often. Luz wished she would do it more often.

An eyebrow raised brought Luz back on topic. “Right!” She said, laughing awkwardly. “Okay… so it’s called the thumbs-up system.”

“The thumbs up system? What does it have to do with thumbs?”

“I’ll explain!” Luz said, grabbing Amity’s arm (she’d been distracted – but they were being really annoying, just standing there.) She tried to not focus on how she’d also kind of done it for the contact (unsuccessfully – it was all she could think about.)

“Alright,” she said, pulling Amity into the empty space between two stalls. “Wow, this feels like you’re about to sell me drugs.”

“What’s a drug?”

“Woah, I never told you? Wow – that’ll be fun to explain. Hey, what happens if witches smoke we-“

“Luz,” Amity said, sternly but not unkindly. “You’re getting side-tracked again. You were talking about thumbs.”

“Yes.” Luz clapped her hands against her cheeks once, to focus herself. She’d seen it in anime… it really didn’t work. “So. It’s a simple method. You stick your thumb out, like this.”

Luz demonstrated. After a second, Amity copied.

“Good! So, the system is, when you’re feeling good, it’s thumbs to the sky. When you’re alright, not in any major discomfort but kind of not liking the vibes, it’s thumbs parallel. And then thumbs down is really bad – like a ‘get-me-out-of-here-now’ situation. Alright?”

Amity’s brows were drawn together, and she had both thumbs pointed down, from the previous example. “I don’t get it.”

“Imagine this,” Luz said. “I’m in a situation that I hate – like the Grom fright, you remember that? And my mom shows up, at which point I’m like, ‘this sucks and I want to be anywhere but here!’ That’d be a thumbs down moment.”

“But why?” Amity asked. “What will pointing my thumbs down do?”

“Well, I’ll know you’re feeling like that, and then you have me to help you get out of that situation!” Luz said, with a grin that was probably a little too cheery given the conversational topic. “I’ll ask you how you are – like this,” she put her thumbs up and over-exaggeratedly raised her eyebrows. “And then you can respond.”

“Talking… with my thumbs.”

“Yes!” Luz held her hand out for a high five. “You got it, Blight!”

“Please don’t call me that,” said Amity, reaching weakly for the high five. It barely made a noise as their palms touched.

“Yeah, sorry,” Luz said, hand reaching to the back of her neck to rub a kink in the muscle there. “So… let’s practice.”

Luz put her thumbs up, and raised her eyebrows. “This is my ‘how are you doing?’ pose. You would respond with…”

Amity paused for a singular second, before giving Luz a thumbs up. “This is my ‘thumbs to the sky’ pose,” she said.

“Thumbs to the… yeah, you got it.” Luz grinned. “Now give me a high five like you mean it!”

“Like I… mean it?”

“Yeah! Hit it hard!”

“But I don’t want to hurt you.”

Luz let her hand drop, an absolutely ridiculous and incredibly unjustified amount of heat rising to her face all at once. “Never mind,” she said, turning away from Amity and back in the direction of the market. “We have a shopping list to complete. Where to next?”

* * *

The walk home leaves a lot to think about. There is no possible capacity for conversation, because both Luz and Amity are holding too many heavy shopping bags (which – how did Eda ever do this by herself?) and focussed on not dropping things rather than talking.

Besides, what would they talk about? Shared trauma? History of abuse? Luz’s glaringly obvious crush?

Luz can’t help noticing that Amity looks caught up in thought. You’d think that sadness is a look you get used to seeing on someone’s face – but apparently not. Especially when there’s nothing you can really do about it.

“Well, look who we have here?” Hooty greets the moment he spots Luz and Amity. “You two sure have a lot of stuff.”

“Yeah,” Luz manages to get out. “Open the door, Hooty.”

“Don’t you want to hear about my amazing day?” Hooty asks, somehow sounding offended. “It started when a bird flew into my mouth this morning! And then-“

“Hooty!” Amity dropped a bag to the floor, if only so she could level a glare at the magical being. “Open the door.”

He obliged. Wow – was he scared of Amity?

Luz entered first, dumping the bags onto the kitchen floor. “Eda?” She called, turning and grabbing two of Amity’s, to offload as well. “We’re back!”

“Amazing!” Eda said, coming through to the doorway of the kitchen and leaning against the frame. “You two were gone a while. Buy anything fun?”

“Your groceries,” Amity muttered – a little too quiet to be intentionally heard. Eda, however, snorted out a laugh.

“Funny, kid,” she said. “Seriously – did you have leftover snails? Did you buy something interesting?”

“Why?” Luz asked, straightening up. “Did you want us to buy you something?”

“I wanted you to do something,” Eda said, shooting a wide-eyed look at Luz. She didn’t get it.

“We have the leftover money,” Amity said. “There was nothing worth buying that we could carry home on top of all of this.”

She fished out the purse, handing it over to Eda. “Oh,” Eda said, looking at it with the fakest smile Luz had ever seen (which was… weird. Eda always liked money.) “I just thought you two would have a nice time, you know? Out of the house… alone… together…”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at, Eda,” Luz said, making her way past her and into the living room, “but if you wanted something else from the market you should’ve put it on the list.”

Eda groaned. Luz didn’t dwell on it.

“King!” She called. “Where are you?”

“Here!” King said, crawling out from inside the chimney. “Eda said she hid all my demon history books around the house – I’ve been trying to find them all day.”

“You did?” Luz asked, turning to Eda, who’d turned herself in the doorframe and was now facing into the living room. “Why?”

“I was making potions!” Eda said, waving a flippant hand. “King needed some entertainment.”

“Yeah, well now he’s all dirty,” Luz chided. “Are you done with the potions? Where are the books?”

“Under his bed,” Eda said. King dropped to the floor, eyes widening in outrage.

“They’ve been there the whole time?” He asked. “You let me walk past my bed how many times – and didn’t let me know?”

“It was kind of funny,” Eda said. “And what harm does it do? You never use those things, anyway.”

“Yes I do!” King crossed his little arms, trying to be disappointed but ending up looking a whole lot cuter than he had before. “I need them!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eda stood properly, walking towards the stairs. “I’m going to have some peace and quiet, by myself, for an hour. Amuse yourselves, children.”

With that, she was gone – leaving Luz, Amity and King. After a moment, King waddled off, too – probably to retrieve his precious books.

Luz and Amity stood, an open doorway separating them. And for the life of her, Luz couldn’t think of anything to say.

So instead, in the most ridiculous manner she could, she raised her eyebrows, and put her thumbs up.

Amity studied her for a second – lips pursed into silence. She put her thumbs up, the smallest of smiles pulling the corners of her lips upwards in a way that sent a current of electricity straight to Luz’s heart.

Not-love was… going to be difficult.

Chapter 9: good visits

Chapter Text

Luz felt a little like she had become an intruder in her own home.

It was just – she had been so used to the arrangement they’d had going, where Luz woke up late and sleepily dragged herself down the stairs, to see Eda and King preparing for their days respectively. They’d share an acknowledgement – some days, Luz wouldn’t be able to dredge up words, and instead would simply sit in the kitchen until she could make herself eat breakfast. Others, the energy came easily, and she’d assist whoever needed it, until she was almost late for school. It didn’t matter, which was the best part about it. It was weird, but it was comfortable, and it was hers.

Now, she woke late and felt guilty, almost. Because the routine had changed, and she felt bad about it. Now, ever since Amity had moved in, Luz woke every day and had to take care to step around this weird Eda-Amity thing that had started sometime in between Luz’s eyes closing and re-opening the next morning. She didn’t mind the change – mostly, she could fake it, pretending that she didn’t feel like she was being overbearing and annoying whenever she broke whatever silent-bonding thing they had going on with her greeting. But the more and more it happened, the more and more she felt like she was in the wrong.

They were a perfect little china shop, and Luz was the earthquake that shattered every piece.

These feelings were… horrible. (Not in that her experiences of them were horrible – they were, but that wasn’t quite what she was referring to.) Luz liked Amity – and she liked Eda, and she liked King, and she liked Hooty. But she’d liked their dynamic before Amity came, too, and now it felt wrong to want it back. Honestly, she just kind of felt like a horrible person. What kind of a person was she, when she semi-regularly entertained thoughts of Amity leaving, and their comfortable routine slotting back into place? Plus, she didn’t want Amity to leave, necessarily – she liked (she liked) Amity, and liked aspects of the way that she slotted into their routine. But how was she able to love so whole-heartedly at times, and then feel like this in others? Her feelings were a ball of tangled yarn, and Luz wasn’t ready to deal with them, yet.

Thoughts like these were easy to push away, until they were confronting her face-to-face once again. Every day, Luz would sleep, happy – and every morning, she would wake with a boulder in her stomach. The routine was different, now. She had to interrupt Eda and Amity, every morning, sometimes King, too, and get the day started. No longer did she help Eda pack her potions on the day of a long delivery run, or accompany King to find the special hat he wanted to wear on top of his skull. No, those things were all handled – and all it left behind was little old Luz, fumbling with the pieces of what she’d once had.

Was it weird, to refer to it as a ‘loss’?

Today, she’d tried to be quiet – sneak through the back of the living room, as Amity sat with the blanket she’d claimed so early on wrapped around her shoulders, and Eda sat with a book in her hands, the only sound being the magical turn of the pages. But Eda had looked up and spied her in the mirror, and as much as Luz tried not to see it, it was as if the whole dynamic of the room changed at once. Eda stood up, to not sit back down for the rest of the day, and Amity stood, too, discarding that blanket she had taken to loving so dearly. She’d been greeted with enthusiasm, sure – she’d really gotten Eda into the hugging thing – but the atmosphere she’d always been excluded from was lost.

She was really being a cry-baby about the whole situation, huh. She’d just have to get over it. Luz didn’t actually want Amity to leave – she liked her, for spirits’ sakes. The feelings would pass. They always did.

Besides. Willow and Gus were coming over.

* * *

It had always been rather strange that Luz’s friends never wanted to visit the Owl House. Sure, there was a wanted criminal, a King of Demons, a magical owl-thing (nobody clarified what Hooty was to their guests – it was usually better that way) and a human between their walls. (And, Luz’s brain supplied, a very pretty witch with a tragic backstory and the brains to power a whole continent, but not to notice when Luz was bothered by something.) But when Willow and Gus visited, it was special. They were her friends. She could… relax, for a couple of hours. She didn’t get to hang out with them outside of school very often, so she’d treasure every moment.

But today, they’d made plans. Luz had walked home besides Amity, chattering for twenty minutes about what their plans were, and how she was so excited because they hadn’t been over in ages, and the four of them would bond and have fun and unwind.

There were two reasons why Luz talked on the walk home. The first was something her mother used to call a “bad mix between extrovert-ism and ADHD”, which Luz just tended to refer too as ‘nerves,’ when faced with extended periods of silence. And the second was that Amity always went quiet at the end of the day, which Luz respected – an hour or so back at the Owl House, and she’d recharge her battery. It must be exhausting to be on edge all the time.

As always, they got home fast – and Luz greeted Eda with a standard hug. “Did you miss us?” She asked into Eda’s shoulder (because she could reach Eda’s shoulder now, apparently.)

Eda tended to laugh from her belly, and the sound reverberated through Luz. “Of course I did,” she said, placing a light kiss to Luz’s head, right before she let go. “How was your day at school?”

“It wad good!” Luz said, pulling back. She moved into the kitchen to dump her bag, watching as Hooty closed the front door behind Amity, who still had a tendency to loiter. Luz jumped into an explanation of her day – she’d had a super hard time in Oracles today, but then her and Gus got to partner up.

Luz watched, as Eda greeted Amity with a friendly nod. Amity nodded back, and the interaction was complete.

“And then, at lunch –“ Luz walked back into the kitchen, pushing herself up to sit on the countertop. Eda stopped whatever she was doing to watch Luz, a fond grin on her face. “We had book club; except today, nobody showed up, because it was Skara’s birthday – which, by the way, is really weird, because Skara has birthdays every two months-“

Eda laughed. “Some rich kids do that,” she shrugged. “What can I say?”

“So it was just me!” Luz groaned. “But it’s okay; Gus and Willow are coming over.”

“That’s today?” Eda asked, turning to a kitchen cupboard and pulling out a jar of… something. (Luz really couldn’t keep track of the room, because Eda had dedicated half the room to cooking supplies, and the other half to potion supplies – and Luz still didn’t know which was which.) “I’ll disappear upstairs, then. King?”

“What?” Came King’s voice from upstairs. “I’m busy, Eda!”

Eda widened her eyes in an imitation of King to both girls, prompting a laugh from Luz. “Call me if you need anything, alright?” She said.

She turned the corner in the living room, leaving Amity and Luz in the kitchen. “Right,” Luz said. “We can drop our bags off in the bedroom, or-“

A knock on the door interrupted – and Luz stood, walking over. It was easy to hear Hooty’s voice, even before the door swung open.

“Willow and Gus are here!” Hooty called, as if Luz wasn’t standing right there. “I was just telling them about the one time I-“

“Hey guys!” Luz interrupted. “Come in.”

“Luz,” Hooty called. “You don’t want to know about me swallowing a bird?”

“Maybe later, Hooty,” she said, beckoning her friends into the living room. Hooty seemed to take it as an acceptable answer, the door closing.

When they entered the living room, Amity was there, sitting stiff as a board. Her blanket had once again taken refuge over her shoulders, cloaking her slightly. Willow and Gus paused in the doorway – Luz went straight through, taking the seat beside her.

“Amity?” Gus asked. “Why are you here?”

Willow’s eyes lit up behind hr circular-framed glasses. “I know why,” she said coyly, taking a seat on Luz’s other side. “Are you two courting?”

“Are we what?” Luz asked. Amity’s face reddened.

“You’re dating?” Gus asked. “Oh – wow, really? That’s amazing!”

“Woah, wait-“ Luz held up her hands. “We’re not dating.”

Willow raised an eyebrow at Luz. She really hoped her body blocked Amity from seeing that look.

“Then… why is she here?” Gus directed the question at Amity, but seemed to be speaking to Luz. He made his way further into the room, taking a seat on the floor, back to the wall, facing the three of them on the couch. Luz turned to Amity, asking her with everything other than words if she’d be okay answering the question. Amity shook her head, softly. Her knees drew into her chest, disappearing under her blanket.

“You remember how Amity’s not living with her parents?” Luz began. “Well… she’s sort of staying here, instead.”

That was met with nods of understanding. “Why here?” Willow asked. “Why not come to my place?”

Amity shrugged. “The Owl House was the closest place I could think of. And… I wasn’t sure you’d want me.”

“Of course we’d want you, Amity.” Willow reached over Luz, placing a hand on Amity’s arm through the blanket. Amity flinched. “We may not have spoken in a while but… I’ll always be here for you. I forgave you, remember?”

After a moment, Amity nodded. Willow withdrew her hand.

“Alright,” she said. “You don’t have to say yes, but there’s this thing my dad’s like to do – we sit in a circle, and everybody says something they’re stressed about.” This sparked some form of recognition in Luz – perhaps Willow had mentioned it before, or maybe, years ago, they’d actually done it. “Do you want to try?”

“I do,” Gus said. “Where are we doing it?”

“Well – here, I guess,” Willow said. “It works like a charm; provided you tell the truth.”

Willow stood, joining Gus on the floor. “Come on,” she beckoned. “It needs to be a circle.”

Luz looked to Amity. She should’ve asked whether she’d be comfortable if Luz brought over friends – it was Amity’s house, too. Luz offered a thumbs up.

Amity stared at Luz’s hand a second, dredging up a thumbs up of her own. The two relocated to the living room floor, completing the circle.

“Okay,” Willow said, extending her hands. Luz and Gus took them unthinkingly, and Luz reached out to Amity. After a moment of trepidation, Amity took Luz’s other hand – sending a shiver through her arm. Amity’s hands were cold, Luz noted, as Amity tucked their conjoined hands back underneath her blanket. “So… who goes first?”

Nobody spoke. Willow let out a short sigh. “Alright,” she said softly, “I guess I will. Um, I guess I’m struggling with school?” She let out a soft deprecating chuckle. “It’s just, I know covens won’t really want me if I don’t get amazing grades, plus I joined the Grudgby team – but it’s kind of a lot.”

“What do you mean, they won’t want you?” Luz asked. “You’re amazing!”

“Thank you,” Willow squeezed Luz’s hand, “but that’s not what I mean. My dads aren’t… prestigious, or well-known, or anything. I have to stand out if I want to be noticed in between all these other people, you know?”

She looked across the circle, to Amity. “No offence.”

“None taken,” Amity said softly.

“Right,” Willow said. “Um – so, yeah. Grudgby takes up time, and studying takes up time, and I guess it’s all just a lot. That’s it from me.”

Willow turned to Gus. “Huh.” Gus said. “Well – I guess I’m always kind of annoyed that I’m not the same age as you guys,” he said. “I’ve mostly gotten over it, but some days it just kind of hits.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s kind of stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Willow said. “If it’s making you feel bad, how could it ever be stupid?”

A small smile lit Gus’s features, and he leant over to drive his shoulder into Willow’s arm. “You’re good at this,” he teased.

“Lots of practice,” she responded. “You have anything else?”

Gus shook his head, and then eyes were turning to Luz, who shrugged. “You all know I struggle with going to the human world every weekend,” she said. “That’s my main thing.”

Amity’s thumb stroked the back of Luz’s hand, comfortingly. Luz looked over, offering a small smile.

“Other than that, I’m good, though,” she said. “Amity?”

The thumb movements stopped; Amity’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to share,” Willow was quick to say, “if you’re uncomfortable. We wouldn’t mind.”

Amity cleared her threat. “Well –“ her voice came out hoarse, and she coughed slightly into her elbow. “Sorry. Um. Wow… where to start?”

She phrased it a little like a joke, laughing at herself, but Luz’s lips curled downwards.

“I guess the main thing on my mind right now is the twins,” Amity said. “Um – Emira and Edric? I don’t know if you guys met them?” She looked to Willow and Gus. Willow nodded in encouragement. “Well… they’re both finished with Hexside, and took the opportunity to get as far away from home – from me – as possible.”

“You miss them?” Luz asked.

“I…” Amity faltered, hand disconnecting with Gus’s for a second to scratch at the back of her neck. “It’s more that I get sad when I think that they don’t miss me? That sounds conceited, wow.” She re-linked her hand with Gus’s, who’s eyes were wide with kindness in only a way that he knew how to do. Amity’s gaze was on the floor in between them. “I just… I guess sometimes I miss them, because I thought we were getting kind of close, but then they just upped and left. Which isn’t their fault, because I didn’t even tell them I wanted them to stay – except then my mother had to go and find Ed’s pranking diary, and-“

“Amity,” Luz said softly, squeezing her friend’s hand. “You’re rambling.”

“Right. Sorry.” Amity took a deep breath. “I guess I do miss them; but I also kind of blame Ed for my having to relocate after I ran away. Even though he didn’t mean for mom to find his diary, he still… left it.” Amity let out a sigh, and then promptly groaned. “It’s complicated.”

Willow nodded. “I’m happy that you could trust us,” she said. “Enough to confide in us. That must be really difficult.”

Amity sniffled, slightly. “I’m uncomfortable,” she announced to the room. “Can we do something else?”

“Of course!” Willow said. “But first… my dads have one more tradition.”

“Cuddle pile?” Luz asked?”

“Cuddle pile,” Willow confirmed.

For a moment, Amity looked confused. “What’s a cuddle pile?”

* * *

“This isn’t what it’s supposed to look like.”

Last weekend, Camilia had sent Luz and Amity back with baking supplies and a thick book of recipes. Originally, Luz betted, it had been for Eda – her mother’s pride prohibited her from asking Eda what day her birthday was on, and Luz was having far too much fun withholding the information, so she was stuck giving Eda ‘not-gifts’ every time she saw her.

Except, Luz had wanted to bake a cake, and Gus had wanted to taste a human cake, and they’d ended up… here.

“I don’t understand why it’s all sunken in like that,” Luz said, checking over the recipe. “I’m pretty sure we used roughly the right amount of ingredients.”

“How do you know how much we used?” Amity asked. “You weren’t measuring.”

“I was measuring with my eyes,” Luz said. “You guys don’t know human measurements.”

“And you couldn’t have translated?”

Luz waved her off, instead turning to Willow, who had taken a bite of the cake, and was making a face. “It’s sour,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s – how?” Luz asked.

Gus had already taken a fork, and was biting into his own serving. Soon enough, his face mirrored Willow’s. “Did we do it wrong?” He asked. “Or is it just disgusting?”

“It can’t be that bad,” Amity tutted, taking her own piece and biting. For a moment, her features froze – and then she forced a half-hearted smile. “Tastes fine,” she mumbled around the piece of cake.

Luz softened slightly, smiling at the sentiment. “I bet it’s horrible,” she said. “My fault; I should’ve asked for a measuring cup. It’s fine, though! We still have the icing?”

“The icing has been smelling delicious,” Gus nodded. “I made it.”

“It couldn’t have gone wrong; you literally had one ingredient.” Willow walked over. “Okay, let’s see – isn’t this supposed to be decorative?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is it edible?”

Gus scoffed. “Of course it’s edible! Why would you put it on food if it was inedible?”

Luz looked over to Amity, who was spitting her bite of cake into the bin. She waited for her to straighten up, a hand coming to wipe at her mouth. “You okay?” Luz asked, quiet enough that Gus and Willow wouldn’t overhear over their little scuffle, putting her thumbs up. “Thumbs up?”

Amity looked down at her hands, before she mimicked the action, nodding. “Thumbs to the sky.”

Chapter 10: and bad visits

Chapter Text

“And then this piece moves,” Amity explained, moving said piece across the board. “In this case, I’d be able to eat your Guard.”

Luz frowned at the board in front of her. “But I thought Beast pieces could only move once every five moves?” She asked.

“Yeah – unless one of my pieces eats one of yours. Then the timer’s reset,” Amity explained. “Sorry. I’m bad at this.”

“No, no,” Luz shook her head. “I’m just a slow learner. I’m getting it, though!”

Luz had awoken that morning to rain pattering down outside her window. For a moment, she could close her eyes and imagine it was the human rain – a sound that used to be so calming, before it had merged into the demon realm’s, until she didn’t know the distance. But it had persisted well on into the afternoon, and after a morning of Eda’s entertainment, and King exhausting himself with their company, both had retired to their separate parts of the house.

Which left Luz and Amity, sitting on either side of the kitchen counter, playing a fancy board game Amity had found in the Living Room.

“Alright,” Luz said. “So it’s my go now. I… can I move this one?”

She picked up a circular-looking piece, and Amity shook her head. “Oracles can only move left or right, so you don’t have space to,” she explained. “You can move your bat, though.”

Luz frowned. Bats were the weakest pieces in the game.

The two of them had spent at least an hour, now, with Amity fretting between trying to explain how to play the game, fawning over the way it was made, and stories of how she used to play it as a kid. Luz sat through it all, somewhat enamoured by the way Amity seemed to seep her passion into every word and movement, letting it fill the room. Perhaps it was that they were alone – maybe she trusted Luz enough to show herself this side of her.

Now, they were sat, and Amity was coaching Luz through her third game. Luz was, unfortunately, not doing much better.

Resting her head on her palm, Luz moved the bat forwards two spaces – right in front of Amity’s Summoner. “I lose this piece, right?”

“You could have moved your other three bats,” Amity pointed out, knocking said bat over with her Summoner, and placing it next to her heat pile of Luz’s deceased players. “But, yes – Summoners can kill bats.”

The game was a weird mix of chess, dungeons and dragons, and rock-paper-scissors – all of which made it increasingly more difficult to understand. (“It takes a while, and I’ll admit – you’re at a disadvantage having not grown up with the context of the witch world,” Amity had said halfway through their first game, when Luz was being told move-by-move what to do and still losing miserably. “But you’ll get there.”)

Luz tried not to think about it. It didn’t do her any good to spend time thinking about her feelings. There were bigger fish to fry.

So, she sighed, and tried to focus back in on the game. Examining the board was an eyesore in itself (Luz wished the decoration part of the game was where the chess similarities begun, but unfortunately, each piece was assigned its own unique shade of garish, and it was threatening to give her a headache.) “Can I move my Beast?”

“Yes,” said Amity. “But – not anywhere useful?”

“Well, what else can I do?” She asked.

“You have three other bats,” Amity offered.

“Yeah,” Luz scoffed, moving her Beast forwards. “You’ll just eat those.”

Luz pulled her hand back, observing as Amity looked over the board. She had a certain type of look on her face – the kind she got when she was doing school work, or carrying an intellectual conversation. It…

It meant Luz was about to be crushed underneath Amity’s feet.

“I hate the rain,” Luz groaned as Amity made her move. “We can’t do anything.”

Amity blinked. “You don’t like the game?”

“No, I do – I… the rain just sucks.”

Amity tilted her head to the side. “It’s your go,” she prompted. “Why hate the rain? You like the stuff in the human world.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just that when I’m here, and it rains, something bad always-“

A knock on the door interrupted, and both Luz and Amity turned, obviously spooked.

“…happens,” Luz finished off. “I’ll answer it. Are you gonna sit in the living room?”

They’d discussed this before – what to do if somebody visited unannounced – and Eda had advised that Amity stay out of sight. Who knows who could be at the door, after all? Even if the mysterious guest wasn’t with the Emperor’s Coven, word got around fast, and Amity was sure to have some kind of reward over her head.

Amity walked over to the living room, securing herself out of sight, and Luz waited another beat before walking over to the door. She swung it open with as much enthusiasm as a somewhat creeped-out person could.

“Lilith?” Luz asked. “What are you doing here?”

Lilith was the picture of poise, as usual. Her hair, dark and pin-straight, wasn’t touched by the rain that slid off of her perfectly-shaped umbrella of a forcefield. Her lips, painted a deep blue, were curled up into a false smile. It slipped, slightly, as she looked down her nose at Luz.

“Oh,” she said. “It’s the human. Is Edalyn home?”

“Yeah,” Luz said. “I’m – I’ll go and get her?”

Without waiting for an answer, Luz slammed the door in Lilith’s face (if it was a little hard, then so what?) and hurried into the Living room. She spotted Amity, curled up in the corner, all that excitement Luz had… gone.

Lilith? She mouthed, the edges of her lips weighted downwards, slightly.

Luz nodded, making a quiet motion with her hands before rushing up the stairs. “Eda?” She called loudly, hoping the walls of the Owl House were thin enough to let Lilith hear her. “Eda? Lilith is here!”

Halfway up the second flight of stairs, Luz paused, as Eda’s door opened. “She-“ Eda frowned. “Lilith is here?”

Luz gave a hum of affirmation.

“And she knocked?”

“I guess so,” Luz said. “Are you coming? She asked for you.”

Eda followed her down the stairs. “You think she’s here for the kid?” Eda asked quietly. It always made Luz happy, that Eda valued her opinion enough to ask – but at the same time, she hadn’t even considered that. It sent a spark of worry through her stomach.

“She might be,” Luz said. “I’ll stay with her. First line of defence, and all that.”

Eda nodded as they reached the bottom of the stairs, parting ways. Luz made her way into the Living room, sitting on the floor besides Amity, who’d grabbed her blanket – but, rather than wrap it around herself like she usually did, she was clutching onto it with whitened knuckles.

“Hey,” Luz whispered, a hand ghosting over Amity’s in an attempt to relax her. “It’s gonna be okay.”

They both quietened as Eda opened the front door, one room over. “Lilith!” Eda greeted in a half-surprised tone. “What are you doing here?”

Lilith sighed, loud enough to be audible even to Luz and Amity. “I’m not here for pleasure, Edalyn,” said Lilith. “Your… human. She’s friends with the Blight, right?”

Eda stayed silent for a moment – probably feigning some sort of ignorance. Luz’s hand tightened around Amity’s, brushing the blanket. Lilith spoke again.

“You know the one I’m talking about – Amity. They fought at the convention?”

“The convention was years ago,” Eda blew off. “I don’t remember what happened.”

“Cut the crap, Eda,” Lilith’s voice was as cold as the air outside. “Is she here?”

“No,” Eda sighed. “Why would she be?”

Luz stopped craning to hear the conversation for a moment when she noticed Amity’s breathing picking up – breaths turning choppy, and uneven. “Hey,” she whispered, hand letting go of Amity’s immediately, as if the contact had somehow caused the reaction. “Amity?”

“She ran away,” Lilith said from the other room. “You hear anything about that?”

“Amity,” Luz whispered again. Amity’s eyes had dropped, and they were sort of misted-over in an unnatural way. “You have to breathe. In, and out. In,” she demonstrated. Amity didn’t follow. Could she even hear her?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eda said relaxedly. “Hey – you want some tea, or something? The rain’s pretty heavy.”

A spark of recognition lit the back of Luz’s mind. Amity was – could she be having a panic attack? But… panic attacks were human. Witches didn’t get them.

Lilith didn’t answer Eda’s question. “You’re saying Amity isn’t here?”

“Nope,” Eda popped the ‘p’ on the word. “Her and Luz stopped talking about a year ago, anyway. Hey – have you checked that girl, Willow’s place?”

Luz wracked her mind for everything she knew. She’d known a boy – in her human school – with a panic disorder. He used to count things… senses.

“Amity?” Luz asked. “Hey – it’s alright. Can you tell me something you can see?”

Amity didn’t respond. She didn’t even react to the words. Her breathing was loud, now – uneven and scared. “Okay,” Luz said, grabbing Amity’s hands, which had now gone cold. “Well – I can see the fireplace. And the carpet. And the door.”

No response, again, but Amity’s eyes moved – to the fireplace. Luz swallowed. “Um, two more things. I can see the sofa – see, the sofa? How about you tell me something you can see.”

After a moment, Amity spoke. “Mirror,” she said, voice quiet and croaky. Luz prayed that Lilith couldn’t hear that.

“Good,” Luz soothed. “Alright. Um – tell me four things you can hear, now.”

“I haven’t,” Lilith’s voice dripped with discontent. “Thank you so much for the referral.”

“Anytime,” Eda clicked her tongue. “You sure you don’t want a drink? I have hot stag beetle juice.”

Amity seemed to hear Lilith’s voice, too – and her breathing picked back up. “Ok, never mind. That was my fault,” Luz said. “I’ll – okay. I’m sorry in advance, about this.”

Luz lunged forwards, wrapping Amity up into a hug, and squeezed. Amity was stiff as bone beneath her; breaths stilting almost to a complete stop. “It’s alright,” Luz whispered into Amity’s hair. “It’s going to be alright.”

Eda and Lilith continued their conversation – but Luz’s reassurances drowned them out. After a few moments, she felt Amity’s chest start to slow its movement, gradually. She pressed on, holding Amity tighter and whispering more sentiments into the open air.

The door shut, and then Eda appeared in the doorway. “She’s gone, thanks to – woah, kid.”

Luz didn’t let go of Amity, but felt Eda move closer. “Hey, Amity?” Eda said. “She’s gone, now. She can’t reach you in here. We’ve got you.”

Amity’s breathing picked up, again – chest movements shallow, and loud. Luz froze. What was making it worse? Lilith was gone, now. “Amity,” Luz said, arms getting impossibly tighter around her friend. “She’s gone, now – you’re safe.”

She couldn’t hear her. Luz couldn’t do anything. She was useless, in this situation, as much as any other time. The ache to help was fruitless when it had no supply.

“Alright,” Eda’s voice was calm, and quiet, over Luz’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go upstairs. I’m making this worse.”

Luz couldn’t turn to acknowledge her mentor – couldn’t let go of Amity – so she sat and listened as Eda’s footsteps retreated, the tell-tale creak of the stairs cementing her absence. “It’s just us, now,” Luz said – she couldn’t think of anything to say, so whatever words came, she used. “Me and you, Amity. We’re safe, here.”

Slowly, Amity’s breathing returned to normal, and Luz let herself relax, if only slightly. Amity’s eyes dropped again – skittering over her kneecaps. Her cheeks flushed with heat, and she gulped, silently.

“Amity?” Luz ventured, hesitant to reach out even though she ached to. “Are you… are you okay?”

Amity shrugged. “I’m sorry,” she said, in leeway of an answer. “I’ll – I’m sorry.”

“No,” Luz shook her head. “Why are you sorry?”

“I –“ Amity’s laugh was hollow, and deprecating. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“Did what?” Luz asked, but Amity was already burrowing her head in her hands. “Amity, there’s no reason to be sorry.”

But Amity wasn’t responding, now – it looked like she was crying. “Can I hug you?” Luz asked again, taking Amity’s non-answer as a non-protest. It was easy – natural, even – to wrap her up in her arms. “Please,” Luz said into Amity’s hair, “don’t be sorry. What you just went through wasn’t your fault.”

Slowly, Amity uncurled, accepting Luz’s embrace and reciprocating by wrapping her own arms around Luz, and burying her head into the crook of her shoulder. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Luz continued. “But you’re safe, now.”

Amity sniffed into her shoulder, nodding. The tears still came, though – they began to soak Luz’s hoodie. Luz filled with annoyance, at herself – all she could do was hug her and hope for the best. But she couldn’t do anything. Not really, anyway.

So, she held her.

* * *

“You don’t have to,” Luz began, “but I think we should talk to Eda.”

They’d been sat like that for the better part of an hour – tangled up in each other, comforted by the pitter-patter of rain and the steady, even breaths of the walls. They’d ended up pressed up against the cool brick of the fireplace, Luz with an arm wrapped around Amity’s shoulders, legs curled halfway to her chest. Amity hummed into Luz’s shoulder, shifting slightly so her chin pressed into Luz’s neck. “Why?” She mumbled – voice still weak.

“She’s an adult,” was Luz’s first voice of reason – the one that had been hammered into her by Camilia. “And she’ll know how to help. If this… happens again.”

“Okay,” Amity sucked in a breath. “We’ll talk to Eda.” She sounded decisive; the idea was set.

“Okay,” Luz mirrored. Neither of them moved.

* * *

“Eda?” Luz knocked tentatively.

Eda emerged from her room, giving Luz a concerned once-over. “Are you okay?” She asked. “Is Amity?”

Luz nodded. “We – we actually wanted to talk to you. About it.”

“Alright,” said Eda. “Downstairs?”

For the second time that day, Eda followed Luz as she walked down the stairs – slower this time. They creaked under Luz’s weight, and then again under Eda’s. Luz was caught up in the image of earlier – of Amity, pale and shaking, struggling to breathe. She couldn’t shake it.

“Hey,” Luz said as they reached the bottom of the stairs, going into the Living room. “I brought Eda.”

Luz’s movements were tentative, and slow – but nowhere near the level Eda was exercising. “Hey, kid,” she said, her voice softer than Luz had heard in a while. “Mind if I sit?”

Amity was still on the floor – Luz had taken her time curling back up besides her, making sure not to move that quilted blanket from her shoulders. She nodded, weakly – and Eda sat on the floor, with her back pressed to the couch, a soft smile on your face.

“Alright,” Eda said. “So – you want to talk about it?”

Amity paused for that answer – but, after a moment, nodded again.

“So,” Eda cleared her throat. “I’ll ask you a few questions, and if you don’t want to answer, you can just say so. That all good?”

Another nod. Luz shifted, slightly, as Amity reached for her hand underneath the blanket. The action was subtle, and shouldn’t be sending Luz’s heart into overdrive – not when they were in such a serious situation, and especially not when Amity’s head was so close to resting on her chest, she might be able to hear the pounding through the skin.

“What caused that reaction?” Eda asked.

“Lilith,” Amity said. “Her voice, I think?”

“Okay. Has that sort of thing happened before?”

Amity’s eyes dropped, but she nodded. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Eda reassured. “We just want to be able to help you, for next time. Is there anything that’s helped when you’ve… gotten like that, before?”

“I don’t think so,” said Amity. “I – usually I just wait it out. It always goes away, after a while.”

“You keep on calling it, ‘it.’” Luz observed half-mindedly. “Doesn’t it have a name?”

“Not here,” Eda said.

“Well… in the human world,” Luz started, “that’s called a panic attack.”

Eda hummed. “That’s a very to-the-point name.”

“Yeah,” Luz laughed. “I never thought of it like that. But – it’s not unnatural, Amity. Other people experience that, too.”

“You know, here, there… isn’t really a word for it,” Eda explained. “It isn’t generally talked about. Wasn’t for my generation, at least.”

“So, other people go through that?” Amity asked. “I – I never thought about that, I guess.”

“You’re not alone,” Luz squeezed Amity’s hand – glad, now, that she’d reached out for comfort, as it helped her express her point. “You never are.”

Eda was nodding, from halfway across the room. “I get that kind of thing makes you tired, though,” Eda said. “How about you two head on upstairs, get some sleep?”

“But it’s so early,” said Luz.

“Take a nap, or something. I’ll come get you for dinner. It’s not like you’ll do anything else – school’s cancelled when it rains.”

Luz was about to protest again, but Amity’s small, “okay,” silenced her. Eda nodded, satisfied, and stood, brushing off her clothes and stretching a little.

“I’ll get back to work, then,” she said. “Don’t nap too long – dinner’s in a couple hours, and you both still have homework.”

* * *

They fell into a comfortable silence whilst Amity was getting ready to sleep, and Luz found herself watching over her friend. She couldn’t help it.

It took a while to find the right words – she’d been mulling them over as Amity brushed through her hair, rolling them around to test out their shape whilst they were changing back into pyjamas – and was finally ready to say them as the two were back in the bedroom, and Amity was doing that meditation-thing she did every night. “Hey, Amity,” Luz said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Amity, who hadn’t gotten into bed just yet, gave a small smile. “I think I will be,” she said, too honestly for Luz’s heart to take. “Thumbs to the sky.”

“Okay,” Luz said. “And, you’d tell me if you weren’t?”

Amity nodded. “Alright,” said Luz. “Is there anything else?”

“Can you-“ Amity cut herself off.

“What?” Asked Luz.

“No, it’s stupid.”

“What?”

Amity sighed, a hand rubbing at one eyebrow. “I was going to ask if you could read me something – or just speak, I guess. Your voice is… comforting.”

“Aww, Amity,” Luz teased. “You like my voice?”

“Stop it,” Amity threatened, “or I’ll just curl up and go to bed.”

“Alright,” Luz got up, walking to the side of her room. “The Good Witch Azura, book 5. Is this to your tastes, Amity?”

Amity nodded, meekly, curling up under the comforter. “Good,” Luz said, walking back over to her own bed so she could sit. She cleared her throat – and began to read.

* * *

Luz woke, the next morning, and she was alone. A common occurrence – but, as she let yesterday’s memories wash over her – an uncomfortable one. Her feet found the cold wood of the floorboards, and she navigated between them to make her way to the door.

She moved down the stairs quietly, noticing the inklings of a conversation before she got to the base. “So if it happens again,” Eda was saying, “there’s more than one person you can come to – people that understand you.”

“Thank you,” Amity’s voice was hazy with the early morning, as it always seemed to become. “I’m – I’m not very good with… maternal figures.”

Eda hummed, but didn’t prompt further. “It’s not your fault, though,” Amity said. “I just… worry, sometimes, I guess? It’s like an instinct.”

“I understand,” Eda said. “If you need me to back off, please just tell me – I won’t be offended, alright?”

Amity must have nodded, because the two lapsed into silence. Luz considered making her presence known – but Eda interrupted, before she could act on her thoughts.

“Hey, Amity?” Eda asked. “You up for a hug yet?”

Shuffling noises – indistinguishable. Luz inched further down the stairs and towards the doorway, wanting to see what was happening. Perhaps Amity had moved away – perhaps she’d gone for a hug.

Luz peeked her head around the corner, to see Amity wrapped in one of Eda’s embraces. It was a little awkward – they were on opposite sides of a couch, and hadn’t thought to close that gap before hugging, but it still… did the trick, she supposed.

Luz couldn’t impose on that. She could go back upstairs – kill some time with homework, and pretending to be asleep. Or maybe she’d –

“Luz?” Eda asked, after a few seconds. “We know you’re there.”

Guiltily, Luz peeked her head back around the corner, properly this time. Eda had released Amity, but they weren’t on opposite sides of the couch now. “Sorry,” Luz said, coming fully into the doorway. “I didn’t want to interrupt, so…”

“You’re not an interruption,” Amity said as if it were obvious. As if she were surprised Luz would think that.

Luz laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, well.” She shrugged. “I interrupted, didn’t I? It doesn’t matter, anyway. We should eat.”

“Luz-“ Eda went to say, but Luz was already making her way to the kitchen.

“What?” She said, making sure she was out of sight as quickly as possible. “Hey, Amity? You want some toast?”

* * *

“How are you feeling this morning, sport?”

The walks to and from Hexside were becoming easier and easier to fill with conversation, but today Luz couldn’t keep her mind from straying to the previous day’s events. Amity seemed far more composed today – more like how she normally was.

“Besides the obvious?” Amity scoffed. “Well, other than the fact that the Emperor’s Coven is now after me… I don’t know, I guess I’m all peachy.”

“Peachy?” Luz asked. “Amity – seriously.”

“You’re asking that question a lot.”

“Yeah, because I’m worried.” Luz sighed. “I – you scared me, yesterday. Not you – just, that I didn’t notice, and then I couldn’t do anything.”

“Luz,” Amity turned to face her. “You have to trust that I’ll tell you if I need your help – but you also need to remember you can’t solve all my problems. You’re not meant to be some saviour. You’re meant to be my friend – which means you should stop treating me like I’m made of glass.”

“I’m not treating you like you’re made of glass.”

“You’re not?” Amity asked. “You baby me, Luz. I don’t need to be asked every five minutes whether I’m about to break down, or be supervised everywhere I go. If I need help, I’ll ask for it.”

“Like you asked for it yesterday?”

Amity’s eyes dropped. “That’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Yes!” Amity said. Her voice had risen – not a shout, not yet. “It was too late – I couldn’t speak. Can you just not bring yesterday up anymore, please? It’s embarrassing.”

“Fine,” Luz exhaled. They continued to walk. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Amity said, begrudgingly. “Not for what I said – I meant it. But it was kind of harsh.”

“Well then, I’m sorry for babying you. I’ll… back off a little.”

Amity shook her head. “It isn’t that – I like you being there for me. It’s just,” she sighed, “you need to find a balance. Not too little, but not too much.”

“Alright,” Luz said. “I’ll work on it.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

More quiet. Luz kicked at a rock on the path. They were getting closer to the school – she wanted to say something.

Maybe she did coddle Amity, a little. Treat her like a helpless, healing bird. Maybe Amity had already healed enough, but Luz was so focussed on the wound that she’d disregarded how small the cardboard box was.

And then they were at the steps of Hexside, and Willow and Gus were there, and so was Boscha – and they were greeted the same way they always were. Luz let herself fall into the ease of things, the ease of a newly-changed routine, that still reminisced some steps of the old one. Like how her conversation with Gus somehow opened up to Boscha in a weird way – and eventually, Amity and Willow piped in with their own input. Like how they made an extra stop at a locker now, because their friendship group had expanded.

Like how Luz checked on Amity periodically – and couldn’t help noticing how easily she fit into the new routine, too. It was too good to be true.

“Amity?” She pulled her aside at the earliest convenience, before they got into class. “I just wanted to say, I’m really glad you’re here, and we’re friends, and everything. I don’t think I’ve said that to you before.”

Amity swallowed. “You haven’t,” she said.

“Oh,” Luz responded. “Well… now I have.”

“Thanks, Luz,” Amity said. “I’m glad we’re friends too.”

“Even though I baby you?”

“You don’t – it isn’t babying, it’s more like you’re a very overprotective parent.”

“That’s babying, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Hey, Boscha? What does ‘babying’ mean?”

“Why would you ask Boscha?”

“Hey!” Boscha piped in. “I resent that.”

“Seriously, though,” Amity looked to Luz. “I’m really glad we’re friends again.”

A spark in Luz’s chest – quelled as fast as she could. “Yeah,” Luz said. “Come on – it’s almost time for class.”

Chapter 11: heart-to-hearts

Chapter Text

Life moved on. The Lilith-visit, after it was over, wasn’t really talked about any more than it had to be (they’d made a more in-depth plan about what to do if she showed up again that included Amity going far enough that she couldn’t see, or hear, Lilith’s voice. Days blurred into one another, passing faster than Luz would have liked them to – and then suddenly Amity had been her roommate for exactly a month.

Eda had said that they’d celebrate Amity’s ‘one-month-at-the-Owl-House-iversary’, and they did. There was a cake (slightly messy, courtesy of Luz’s human baking skills) and several Boiling Isles delicacies that Eda had gotten off the market that morning. They celebrated it like a birthday, minus the presents, and it felt… good.

Eda had attempted to speak to Luz alone on a few different occasions, but Luz had effectively avoided her every time – changing the topic, or making some excuse. For better or for worse, the tries to pull Luz aside, and have a serious parenting conversation, had dwindled into almost-extinction. And, sure – Luz missed Eda’s presence. But if that was what it cost to get her off her case, it was a small price to pay for everyone else’s happiness.

Luz didn’t – she didn’t matter, anyway. On the scale of things that were happening in other people’s lives, she wasn’t a priority. Eda, and Amity, and… everybody – they had their own problems to deal with. They couldn’t be bothered to take time out of their days to fix her.

And of course she missed Eda’s steadying presence – their hugs when Luz came in for school were shorter, now, when all Luz wanted to do was curl up in her arms. When Luz said goodnight, she yelled it from the top of the stairway, rather than coming down. Her life was busy, now, with imaginary tasks; work, and friends, and play, and everything that didn’t involve Eda.

It’d be fine, though. It always was. Maybe, eventually, Eda could forget, or drop it, and then they’d go back to normal. Luz liked normal.

* * *

It was Thursday night – and Thursdays meant that Luz and Amity were locked up in their room, packing human-world bags, usually worrying about last-minute homework they had to complete in order to have a free weekend. At first, Luz had done what she’d always done – used the exact same bag, with the exact same two outfits, for the human world, and just packed the stuff like her toothbrush at the last minute before they left. But now that Amity was there, Luz’s outfits tended to veer more into the fashion (as fashionable as she could be – Luz hadn’t found her fashion sense yet, and she resented it) than the comfort.

They’d been making light conversation – about the day’s events – when Amity paused. The room delved quickly into silence when one of them stopped moving, and after a moment, Luz paused too. “Amity?” She asked, turning away from her bag to look at her friend.

Amity was seated on the mattress, bag laid down besides her. “Sorry,” she said, a hand coming up to bite at her nail. “I was just… thinking.”

“Oh yeah?” Luz asked, taking a seat too. She’d been fretting over whether to take the purple hoodie, or the green one – but it could wait. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“…what?”

“Sorry. Human phrase. You want to share?”

Amity’s chest rose, and she let out a deep sigh. “I’m just…” she rubbed at a crease in between her eyebrows. “You ever think that maybe you don’t like boys?”

A beat passed. Luz blinked. “You mean you don’t like Gus?”

“No! I like Gus!” Amity hurried to say. “I just… I mean like liking boys.”

Luz’s head was alight, running a mile a minute. “Oh,” she said, preening slightly at how smoothly her voice had come out. “So you think you like girls?”

Amity flinched at the words. “I didn’t say that.”

“I like boys,” Luz began, testing the waters, “but I also like girls. You think you might be like that?”

Amity gulped. “How did you figure it out?”

“I watched this human movie, when I was a kid – Pirates of the Caribbean. I’ll show it to you, maybe this weekend. But the girl was pretty, and the boy was pretty, too – so I thought, why choose?”

“Okay,” said Amity. She wasn’t looking at Luz – eyes trained onto the seams of the floorboards. “What if I don’t like boys… at all?”

“That’s totally fine!” Luz hurried to say. “It’s your choice.”

They lapsed back into silence, and Luz couldn’t help it when she felt her hands begin to fidget in her lap. “Is it bad to… to like girls… here?”

Amity shrugged. “In other places, I’m pretty sure it’s normal. But in places like here, nobody really talks about it? I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Luz said. “In the human world, it’s normal, too. Well, mostly.”

“Mostly?” Amity asked.

“Yeah,” Luz continued. “Like – if you like the same gender, for most people it’s fine, but some people really don’t like it? There will always be people that get mad over it, of course – but it’s your identity, you know?”

“I guess the human world’s pretty similar, then,” Amity said. Luz nodded.

“Why did you bring it up?” She asked. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but…”

“It’s alright,” she said. “I just – I guess I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

Luz’s brain skipped for a second – Amity liked girls, and Amity had been thinking about liking girls, and Luz had been thinking about liking her, and Amity liked girls. “Okay.” She said. “Anything else you’ve been dying to ask me?”

“Yeah, actually,” Amity said. “You can like both?”

“What – boys and girls?” Luz asked. “Oh. Yeah, of course. Nobody defines your sexuality but you. Personally, I identify as bisexual – bi, being multiple genders.”

“Cool,” Amity said.

“Pretty cool, right?” Luz asked. “Once you’ve gotten over the hom*ophobes – that’s the human world for people that don’t like gays – there’s a really awesome community. Hey; maybe I can play you girl in red?”

“Play me what?”

“It’s the – she makes music.” Luz explained. Her words were speeding up. “She’s kind of known for being a gay icon. Or maybe Hayley Kiyoko?”

“People write music about that?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s amazing.”

Amity nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “For… talking this out. With me.”

“Thank you for trusting me,” Luz said. “I’ll guard it with my heart.”

A small smile played on Amity’s lips – coy, and gorgeous. “You’d better,” she said.

“Wow. Someone’s bossy today.”

“I’m not – what?”

* * *

Luz woke late (because she woke later, now – late enough that running out of the door without enough time to speak to anybody else in the house was justified) on Friday morning, and with one last check of her bag, lugged Amity to school by her side. The morning passed quickly – she liked Friday’s, because she had Oracle classes all morning, and an Abomination one with Amity in the afternoon. So, the time passed quickly.

Everything was fine – until it began to rain, just before lunch.

“This sucks,” Luz said, head resting on her hand. They were sat on a tiny portion of table in the school’s overcrowded lunch area – the kids that would usually spend their lunch hour out on the Grudgby field forced to stay inside. “Why is there rain today?”

“It’s rainy season,” Gus said, biting into one of his sandwiches. “It’ll probably have stopped by the time we go home.”

“Yeah, but – “

“We know, Luz,” Willow said, nudging into her with her shoulder. “You don’t like the rain. You say it every time.”

“I can’t help it,” Luz said. “Don’t you guys hate it, too?”

“I don’t mind it,” said Gus. “It’s really pretty!”

“But it burns everything,” Luz said. “Including houses – including people.”

“Well, yeah. But right before it hits the ground, when it’s falling, and the light hits it just right; that’s pretty.”

Luz moved slightly, to look out the window. The rain was a pretty colour, she supposed – a sort of light pink, almost white. “Do you get rainbows here?” Luz asked. “I – I never thought to look.”

“Heck yeah, we do!” Willow said. “Humans have rainbows, too?”

Luz nodded. “Well,” she said with a pout. “I still think it’s a bad omen.”

Gus groaned, and began eating again. Luz’s eyes began to wander around the crowded room, scanning for familiar faces in amongst the hoards. She supposed they could always retreat to an empty classroom to eat, but no doubt most people who could have, would have already come up with that idea.

Her eyes caught on green hair – Amity. Standing next to… Boscha.

“Hey,” Willow poked a finger into Luz’s cheek, startling her slightly. “What are you looking at?”

“Amity and Boscha,” Luz admitted. “They’re over there – look.”

Amity turned her head just as Luz’s hand dropped, and Luz offered Amity a thumbs up – which Amity returned. “You spotted her quickly,” Willow commented. “Jealous?”

“Jealous?” Luz asked. “Of what?”

“Boscha.” Willow said. “Boscha spending time with Amity.”

Luz shook her head – if she was jealous of her friends, it would get her nowhere (plus, Amity was a free person, an Luz got to spend one-on-one time with her more than everybody else combined.) “Just thinking,” she said. “How did we become friends with Boscha?”

“You and Boscha aren’t close, huh,” said Willow. “Well – me and her were put on the Grudgby team together, and then her mom met by dad’s, and we started hover-sharing to school.” She stopped talking, noting how Luz wasn’t really paying attention anymore.

Amity’s eyes had left Luz’s – but Luz hadn’t looked away. “She’s a good person, you know,” Willow said. “She apologised for all the stuff she said.”

“I know, but…” Luz wrinkled her nose. “You know what I’m saying, right, Gus?”

Gus was wiping his mouth, having finished the sandwich. “Yeah!” He said, mouth half-full. “What are we talking about?”

“Boscha,” Willow filled him in, and Gus nodded.

“Yeah – she’s chill now,” he said. “She came to Human Appreciation Society a couple of times, too. I think she’s really trying.”

“Well, if you guys trust her…” Luz shrugged.

“Don’t you trust her? You told her Amity wasn’t staying at home.”

“Well, yeah – but… I don’t know. Different kinds of trust.”

* * *

“Bye, Eda,” Luz says with a hug that’s tight, but fleeting. They’re just about ready to go – Eda and Camilia have had their usual stare-off (Eda had given Camilia some leftovers from their one-month-iversary, and Camilia had promised passive-aggressively that she’d make her a tres leches cake by the end of the weekend.)

Eda’s arms reached to find Luz’s shoulders, but she’d already pulled back. “Alright,” said Luz, rolling her shoulders and picking up her bag. “Ready, Amity?”

“Yeah,” Amity said from behind her. Amity still got a little nervous around Camilia (Camilia, her mother, who was nothing but warm hugs and vanilla-scented perfume – Luz knew it wasn’t her place to judge, but her heart still twinged whenever there was a visible reminder of Amity’s pre-Owl House days.) “Um, hello, Mrs Noceda.”

“Hi, Amity,” said her mom, eyes dark and warm. “You two coming?”

“Don’t forget me!” King’s little voice called from the hallway. King had been insisting on visiting the human realm for months, now – but nobody had the heart to tell him that he freaked Camilia out, a little. Last week, she’d finally caved (under the impression that he would be with either Luz or Amity the entire time) – so King had been celebrating and fretting over what to bring to the human realm all week. He’d ended up with a little pack of Hexes Hold’em, and a book on the demon race, in case Camilia was interested.

“We could never!” Luz said. “But hurry up.”

“Bye Eda!” King called, rushing past her and straight into the human realm. “Come on, Luz! I want to see the human realm!”

Luz nodded, walking through the doorway – and turning just in time to see Amity pulling away from an equally short hug from Eda, and hurry through the doors. “See you, Camilia!” Eda saluted with two fingers and a wink, before turning away.

“Bye!” Camilia called, but the door was already closed. “Ugh, that woman. Anyway – hi, girls. How were your weeks?”

* * *

It was easy, Luz thought, to fall back on conversation with her mom. It was getting colder in the human realm with every visit – winter approached fast, after all. They’d need to start bringing extra layers in a couple of weeks. But with the easy conversation came the easy routine – with the slight distraction of a literal demon that refused to do anything without being carried around in Luz’s arms, “for the vantage point.”

“I need to see as much of the human world as I can!” He’d said, crossing his adorable little arms over his chest. “And you’re perfectly tall. Just carry me!”

“Alright,” Luz had responded, scratching at the fur under his skull. “Just because you’re such a snuggle-muffin.”

Now, Luz (accompanied by King on her shoulder, and Amity by her side in that dark green beanie that covered her ears) was lounging in the garden, waiting for food to be ready, pointing out the stars. “I didn’t even think about constellations being different there,” she said. “But that one’s called Pegasus – you see it’s a little like a horse?”

Amity followed Luz’s pointer finger with her gaze, shaking her head. “That’s supposed to look like a Pegasus? But it’s just stars.”

“You have to connect the dots. Imagine.” Luz moved her finger. “How about that one? It’s a dragon.”

“I see a dragon!” King said from on her shoulder. “I think – it’s so glow-y!”

“Exactly!” Luz chuckled. “Hey – Amity, come over here. So you can line your gaze up better.”

Amity scooted over, slightly, until they were a little less than an arm’s width from each other. Luz pulled her closer, and their shoulders knocked together. “Look,” Luz said, picking up Amity’s hand and fashioning it into a point, before she lifted it up into the air. “That star, and… follow it down there. And then…”

She completed the constellation. “You see?” She laughed, slightly, letting their conjoined hands drop down into Amity’s lap. “Dragon.”

Amity was looking at her, silently – and Amity was close. Close enough that Luz could see that her eyes resembled molten gold, warm and fiery – and her eyelashes were thick and dark. She could feel Amity’s warm breath against her own cheeks. She was holding her hand. She was – if she just got a little closer…

“Girls?” Camilia called from the house. “Food’s ready!”

They sprung apart as if they’d been electrocuted – Amity standing so quickly Luz could barely imagine she’d been sat besides her a moment earlier. King was jostled, and dug his sharp claws into Luz’s shoulder, which earnt him a hiss that she couldn’t be bothered to care about. Luz swallowed; her throat was dry. “Food,” she said. “I… forgot about that.”

Amity headed into the house, leaving Luz and King sat on the grass, alone. Luz watched her retreat – listening to the light footfalls against the grass. The wind was a gentle accompaniment to the song of the silence, and it bit at her exposed skin, desperate to crawl into the heart she was preserving. She let out a long sigh.

“Hey, King.” Luz said, out into the open air and the moon. “Could Amity have feelings for me?”

“Of course Amity has feelings for you!” King said. Luz’s heart stopped. “If she had no feelings for you, you’d be strangers! Now, take me over to where the food is.”

Luz stood, slowly, mumbling a, “that’s not what I meant,” as she checked for mud on her clothes.

Accompanied by King’s excitement, they went into the house, taking seats at the table (Luz tried not to think about Amity running away as she sat down, ditching her outer layer in the warmth. But they were sitting opposite each other, and their eyes kept meeting.)

“I am very excited about eating,” King said, walking across the table to his own plate, placed slightly to the side of Luz’s. “Eda’s cooking is terrible!”

Camilia snorted out an undignified laugh as she placed the pot down. “Would you say that again, so I can get it on record?” She asked. “Tonight, we’re having stew.”

“Oh, boy!” King exclaimed. “That sounds amazing! What’s a stew?”

Her mom took her seat, reaching over to lift the top off the stew pot. “Help yourselves, everyone.”

Luz went first – serving King, and then serving herself. King ate as he always did – messily and yet somewhat endearingly, getting food all over his paws and arms. “It’s so good!” He exclaimed. “I didn’t know Humans had such abilities with cooking.”

“King, you’re getting it all over you,” Amity chastised. “Wipe yourself off.”

“A King never worries about appearances!” King declared, continuing to eat.

Luz rolled her eyes – typical King, really. “Amity, can you pass the towel?”

Amity looked to her side, grabbing the towel and handing it to Luz, who used it to dab at King’s mess. “Hey!” King protested. “I’m eating here!”

Camilia laughed from her position at the head of the table. “You know,” she said, “he is like an unruly child – and you two are his parents.”

Luz froze, meeting her mom’s eyes for a moment, before diverting them back to her plate and thanking whatever Gods and Spirits above that she wasn’t white enough to blush. The towel was put down – surrendered, if you will – as she continued to eat.

“Why would you say that?” She asked.

“What?” Her mom laughed. “I didn’t mean to offend you, cariño.”

“You didn’t,” Luz said, although the words came out gruffier than she’d expected them too. “Eat less messily, King,” she instructed, before bowing her head and continuing to eat her own food, in silence.

The next time she looked up, it was to her mother raising a suspicious eyebrow, looking between her and Amity.

Chapter 12: no thumbs up

Chapter Text

“I had a dream,” Luz said, first thing in the morning. “About Amity and I.”

She was in her human bedroom – which meant being alone, save for King’s little cartoonish snores. Her curtains did little to block the daylight seeping through the windows and onto her floor. She stood. The bite of the floorboards crept into her bones.

“I had a dream,” Luz repeated, walking over to her wardrobe. “About yesterday.”

The dream had been about yesterday – they’d stargazed, and Amity had been a welcome warmth, tucked into Luz’s side, and they’d stared up at the stars until they were staring at each other, and then…

“It wasn’t real,” she said quietly.

“What wasn’t real?” A voice – aching in its familiarity – came from behind her. Luz spun to face Amity in the doorway, her head tilted ever so slightly to one side.

“Nothing!” Luz said. “I just – had a weird dream.”

Amity’s lips quirked upwards. “And you’re speaking to yourself about it?”

“Sometimes it helps to narrate things,” Luz said. “It un-jumbles the thoughts.”

“Okay,” said Amity. “What was the dream about?”

Luz froze. “Nothing. Why are you here?”

“You’re up late, and your mom asked me to come and get you. We have a big day of human world-ing ahead, right?”

“Right,” Luz said. “I’ll be down in a second, then. I just have to wake up King.”

They stood there, a moment longer. Her feet were cold, against the peeking light of the windows that looked to be so warm.

“Okay, then,” Amity eventually said, straightening herself up. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Amity closed the door gently behind her, leaving Luz to turn back around and promptly bang her head into her wardrobe. “It was a dream,” she groaned to herself. “Snap out of it, Noceda.”

A beat. A clap of her hands against her face, harsh and focusing. “I need to get dressed,” she said. “I need to forget about it.”

She opened the closet, grabbing the first thing that she saw, and turned back to see King. Usually the sight of him would immediately cheer her up – but she was distracted today. She needed to stop thinking about these things. Wasn’t it kind of creepy to create fantasies about a person who doesn’t want to be with you?

“King,” she said, walking over. “Wake up, little buddy.”

She shook King’s shoulder gently, and King’s eyes opened. “Morning, Luz,” he said more pep than you’d expect, first thing in the morning. “Where’s my skull?”

“Over there,” she pointed to her desk, turning around again. “I’m going to the bathroom to get dressed, okay? I’ll come and get you in a minute, and we’ll go downstairs.”

“Sounds good!”

Luz went into the bathroom, changing quickly, the heat of her face an unwelcome discomfort. She groaned, slapping some cold water onto her cheeks, and glared at herself in the mirror.. Today of all days… when she’d have to spend the entire day with Amity, she had to go and have a dream about kissing her. She wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.

“It’s fine,” she said, standing. She turned off the tap. “It’s all fine. I’m calm. I’m normal.”

“Morning!” Her mom greeted as Luz came down the stairs, King trailing behind her. “Did you sleep well?”

“The best,” Luz said, taking a seat on the kitchen counter. “I was thinking I’d take Amity around to see some things – she really likes libraries, and I promised I’d take her to that one coffee shop down the street.”

Her mom nodded, as she turned the gas off, lifting the food onto its own plate. “Sounds good. I have a shift this afternoon, until late – but you can order a pizza, maybe? Oh – and take her to see your treehouse.”

“That’s a good idea,” Luz said. “I wanted to show her the treehouse, too – he said he’s never seen one before.”

“It’s just so practical!” King said from his spot besides Luz. “The foundation is already there – you just have to build around the tree! Humans are geniuses.”

“Thank you, King,” Camilia chuckled. “Luz – go get Amity.”

“Where is she?”

“Watching the TV.”

Luz nodded, leaving King behind with a fond pat to the head. “Amity?” She called. “You coming?”

“One second,” came the response, weakened by the wall in between them.

Luz passed through the doorway, to see Amity sat on the couch, legs tucked underneath her, watching a cartoon that sparked some ancient recognition in Luz. “Oh, Loony Tunes!” She moved to take a seat besides Amity. “I remember those.”

“You never told me animals could speak here, too,” Amity said.

“They can’t.” Luz said. “It’s just a TV show.”

“Why would you want animals to speak?” Amity asked. “I mean – they’re all evil! They’re all so mean to us.”

“Well in the human world, animals are our friends – usually.”

“Exactly. Why would you want to ruin that?”

“I don’t know,” Luz shrugged. “I guess it’s funny. Come on, we’re eating.”

“But-“ Amity turned to Luz, and suddenly their faces were closer than before. “Also, why draw them? Doesn’t that take forever without magic?”

Luz sighed, standing. “Write your questions down, and I’ll address them in front of the whole Human Appreciation Society. Now, come on. Aren’t you hungry?”

* * *

“This is boring,” Amity said, five minutes into their venture. They’d entered the library – and Luz had been half trying to follow Amity around as she ran excitedly through the shelves, half trying to stuff King back into her bag so that he’d stay hidden from humans that would freak out if they saw him.

“What do you mean?” Luz asked. “It’s a library! You love libraries.”

“It’s exactly the same as the Boiling Isles library – only your fantasy section is tiny, and inaccurate.” Amity frowned. “Is there anything special about it?”

“It’s a library,” Luz half-chuckled. “There never was anything special about it.”

Amity frowned. “Well, okay. That’s boring.”

“You’re so mean all of a sudden,” Luz observed, crossing her arms over her chest. More like… old Amity. Pre-Owl House Amity. “What do you have against libraries?”

“I don’t have anything against them!” Amity’s voice rose as she defended herself, earning them a shushing from one of the patrons. “I just… I thought there’d be something interesting in a human one.”

“Why?” Luz laughed. “It’s just a library.”

“But it’s human.”

“And?”

Amity groaned. “You’re just baiting me, now. Where else did you plan to take me?”

“Who says I planned to take you anywhere else?” Luz asked. “Maybe this was my whole day. Come on – you really don’t like it?”

Amity spared a moment to look around, turning a full circle. “Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s basic.”

“Well that’s just rude,” Luz said. “King – oh my god, stop.”

“I want to see the basic library, too!” King said from inside her bag, far too loudly. “Let me out!”

“You’d literally scare everyone to death, King. You’re a demon.”

“Aww,” Amity pouted teasingly. “I think you should let him out. He just wants to explore, Luz.”

Luz’s eyes caught on Amity’s lips. “Yeah!” King exclaimed from inside her bag. “I just want to explore.”

“That –“ Luz let out a harsh sigh. “That’s dumb. No. We’re leaving now.”

“Where are we going?” King asked. “I wanted to see the library!”

“Shut up, King!” Luz said to her bag (which probably looked really strange from an outsider’s perspective – whatever, she didn’t live there most of the time.) “We’re going somewhere else, alright?”

* * *

“You don’t have any human money, Amity, how do you expect to buy it?”

They were in a clothing store, and Amity had found the beanies section. “I like this colour!” She said, pointing to the purple. “And I’ve been wearing this green one every day for a month.”

“It looks good, though,” Luz said, hoping her voice came out friendly rather than… you know. “Why change it if it works?”

“Because I want variation,” Amity said. “I’ll steal it.”

“No you won’t!” Luz said. “Oh my god. Rich kids. You really think you could steal?”

“I mean, how hard can it be?” Amity asked. “They do it all the time in your human movies.”

“Yeah, well that’s fake. Come on – if you really want it, we’ll come back tomorrow with human money.”

Amity sighed overdramatically. “Okay,” she said.

“Then let’s go home,” Luz said, turning to exit the store. “My feet hurt.”

“Wait,” Amity said. “Your bag is open.”

They both stopped walking, and Luz pulled her bag off her back – checking it. “King’s missing,” she said to Amity.

“Well, where could he be?”

“We had him in the coffee shop… and you were talking to him when we walked in here. So he escaped in the last ten minutes.”

Amity turned a full circle. “King?” She ventured, voice quiet.

“He won’t hear you like that,” Luz muttered.

“I’m trying to be subtle – don’t want all the humans to know we set a demon loose,” Amity said back. “King?” She said again, a little louder.

Luz’s eyes dropped to the floor, searching for little clawed paws amongst the human shoes and the clothes racks. “How could we have lost him?” Luz asked. “I zipped the bag shut.”

“It’s not worth thinking about,” Amity said to her. “Point is, he got out. King?”

“Wait –“ Luz grabbed one of Amity’s arms, pointing to one of the display racks. “You see that?”

They both looked down, to see movement from one display to another. “That little rascal,” Amity mumbled. “Let’s get him.”

It’s surprisingly difficult to walk quickly whilst pretending to be casual, so several steps in, Luz abandons the façade all together, chasing after King. “Come here, you heathen!” She called, rounding a corner to where she saw him and catching him darting off again. “Oh, my god.”

Amity cut a corner, and between the two of them, King was stuck. “What?” He asked after a second of contemplating his options. “I told you I wanted to explore.”

“Yeah, well you can’t,” said Luz, placing her open bag in front of King. “Get in – unless you want a whole trail of human strangers thinking you’re the cutest thing in the world, and wanting to hug you.”

King groaned, but got back in the bag. “How’d you know that would work?” Amity asked.

“King only likes hugs from friends,” Luz explained. “I learnt that when I met him for the first time – been using it to my advantage ever since.”

“Your mom was right,” Amity said. “I feel like we’re his parents, and he’s a kid causing trouble.”

“Yeah,” Luz laughed awkwardly. “Um – we should go home, now. That was way too much action for one day! Give him less… opportunity.”

“Alright,” Amity said. Luz scooped up the bag, zipping it almost-shut and sliding it on. “That’s… a good idea, I guess.”

“Aw,” Luz smiled. “Don’t look so bummed, Amity. I’ll show you my treehouse.”

* * *

They’d left King in the house, watching an anime movie, when Luz pulled Amity away to go and see the treehouse. The sun was low in the sky, threatening to set within the hour, and it was cold enough that they’d done nothing but shiver on the way to the ladder.

“You afraid of bugs?” Luz asked as she climbed the first few rungs of the ladder. “There might be some in here – it’s been a while since I’ve been in.

“No,” Amity said from below her.

“Alright,” Luz said back – before pushing the trapdoor open and climbing in.

It was almost exactly as she’d left it – two beanbags, a now-tiny slightly lopsided bench, dust and leaves all over the floor. “This is it,” Luz said as Amity peeked her head in. “The treehouse.”

“It’s very small,” Amity said. “Humans live in these?”

“Well – most of the time they’re just for kids to play in. And the ones you live in are way larger, anyway.”

“Alright,” Amity said. “So… what did you used to do?”

Luz plopped herself into a beanbag, sending a cloud of dust upwards. “I don’t know,” she said. “Play make-believe? I used to pretend I was a knight, and this was my castle, being attacked.”

Amity placed herself on the other beanbag, lips quirking upwards. “Cute,” she said. “Who were you defending?”

“The princess,” Luz said. “Or – just the castle? I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Amity said. Her voice was soft – Luz leant in slightly to hear her. “What about this treehouse made you think it was worth defending?”

Luz pulled back. So she was snarky today. “You’re so mean!” Luz said, pretending to faint over her beanbag and into Amity’s lap dramatically. “This knight has been slain by your words.”

“No,” Amity chuckled.

“No? You expect me to rise from the dead because you said ‘no’?” Luz was giggling too, now. Amity’s legs were warm underneath her head – soft, too. “Alright – I’m alive again. What can I do for you, princess?”

She was met with an owlish blink. “Princess?” Amity asked.

“Well, yeah,” Luz’s smile turned bashful. “You’re the only other one here.”

Amity nodded. With her looking down at Luz like that, there was no way to escape her gaze. Luz felt her face heating up. “Okay. I don’t mind being the princess.”

“Good,” Luz said. “You know, you’re very comfortable.”

“What?”

Luz pulled herself up from Amity’s lap until she was sat on her beanbag again, turning away for a moment. “Nothing. Anyway.” She cleared her throat, hands clasping together on her lap before she did anything stupid with them. “What do you want to do?”

Amity shrugged. “It’s your treehouse.”

“Yeah, well you’ve seen it all, now – it was pretty small.”

The words left Luz’s lips, and they fell into silence. Luz was looking at Amity – there was orange-y light pouring in.

“Doesn’t that beanie get uncomfortable?” Luz asked, scooting closer so she could pull it off of Amity’s head. “It probably gets warm, right?”

“I guess,” Amity said. Her hair was all over the place, now – she reached up, beginning to brush pieces of it back down with her fingers. “I don’t mind.”

Their knees were touching. Luz was sure her gaze was intense – she couldn’t help but watch as Amity’s movements slowed, until she’d stopped combing through her hair all together. “Luz?” She asked, voice barely a whisper. She watched as Amity’s mouth shaped her name.

Luz found herself beginning to lean in. She looked into Amity’s eyes for a moment – watched as they slid shut – leant in further.

Amity’s breath skated across Luz’s cheeks, and Luz licked her lips, looking back at Amity’s. She’d – Gods, she’d dreamt about kissing Amity. This couldn’t be real.

Since she realized her feelings (and perhaps before), all she’d done was think about kissing Amity. She’d wanted it so desperately – she’d crafted a thousand scenarios in which they had their first kiss.

What if she was crafting the signals here, too?

She had to be – why would Amity like her? They were friends. Luz was seeing the signs because she wanted them to be there. There was no way Amity wanted to kiss her right now… which meant Amity was probably very uncomfortably waiting for Luz to back off.

Oh, Gods. Luz was making moves on someone who didn’t consent. Amity would hate her after this.

Luz cleared her throat, and the sound was loud against the deafening quiet. “So…” she said. “Um – I also used to learn about the constellations up here. Read all these books from the library…”

It was harder than she thought to look away from Amity and to the window, but she was glad she’d done so as she continued to babble. “I must’ve got, like, twelve books out this one time – and I read half of one and got bored. It’s a good thing my mom wanted to read them too me later, because then I never would have realized my love for them.”

She didn’t look back at Amity. Amity didn’t interrupt.

“And now, obviously, I know a load about constellations!” Luz clapped her hands together, wincing at the harsh sound it made. “So… it all worked out in the end, I guess I’m trying to say.”

“Okay,” Amity’s voice was harsher than it had been before. Colder. “It’s freezing. Can we go inside?”

“Oh, sure,” Luz said. “Um – you can go first, then?”

Amity took the invitation, climbing down the ladder, leaving Luz alone in the treehouse. Luz squeezed her eyes shut.

“sh*t,” she whispered. “Oh my god, Luz. You’ve messed everything up.”

She took another moment to curse herself out before grabbing the ladder and climbing down. Amity was already disappearing into the house by the time Luz reached the bottom of the ladder, and she let out another curse.

She’d really gone and ruined everything – their whole month of work towards becoming friends, gone. She was a horrible person.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to tell somebody – share the guilt. She wanted to be swallowed whole by the ground, never to be seen again.

* * *

“Mom?” Luz asked. “Can I talk to you?”

Camilia paused. “Of course, mija. Come, take a seat. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Luz said. “I just… wanted to talk to you about something.”

Luz meandered over, taking a seat on the couch next to her mother. She paused, eyes dropping down to her lap, where her hands were fidgeting aimlessly.

“Is it the TDAH?” Her mom asked, a concern that sparked butterflies in Luz’s stomach laced in her voice. “Is it getting bad again?”

“No – no, not that,” Luz said. “Mom, I like girls.”

She forced her hands into stillness on her lap, eyes squeezing shut to avoid whatever her mom’s reaction would be. “And boys,” she said, “just to clarify… but I like both.”

“Alright,” her mom said. “Well… thank you for telling me.”

“You’re not mad?” Luz looked up.

“Of course not. I love you, Luz.”

Luz’s lip trembled, slightly, and she jumped at the opportunity when her mom opened her arms. “I thought you’d be mad at me,” she said honestly.

“Well… if I’m telling the truth, I had my suspicious?”

“What?”

Camilia laughed. “You used to come home from school every day and tell me about all the beautiful girls in your class, mija. You weren’t very subtle.”

“But – I did?” Luz asked. “Wow.”

Camilia pulled Luz into a tighter hug, placing a kiss to the crown of her head. “I love you,” she repeated. “Is there any reason why you’re telling me this, though?”

“Well…” Luz let her head fall until it hit her mom’s shoulder, letting out a sigh. “I sort of have a crush on Amity.”

Her mother hummed. “I suspected that, too.”

Luz poked at her, earning an indignant, ‘hey!’, before she settled back into the embrace. “She’s… so pretty, and I like her a lot. But I’m worried now isn’t the time for feelings, because she’s sort of dealing with her own stuff, you know?”

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Camilia observed. “I’m proud of you for being mature.”

“But?”

“Give me a moment, mija, I’m thinking.”

“Alright,” Luz said, taking the moment to bury her face into her mother’s shoulder a little more. Missing her mother came in waves – and right now, buried in her embrace, it was easy to remember the longing that sometimes overtook her to be with her mom again, rather than separated by an entire dimension. There wasn’t anything quite like the comfort of her presence – the time they spent together before the Boiling Isles, spending every day together and yet never letting whatever disagreements they had get in the way of their irreplaceable bond.

“I think,” she said, after a while, “that you should let Amity make that decision for herself.”

“What decision?” Luz asked.

“Whether she’s ready for dating. If she isn’t – fine, at least you tried. But… el amor todo lo puede.”

“Woah, woah,” Luz backed away for a moment, to look her mom in the eyes. “Who said anything about love?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Camilia placed a hand on Luz’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Luz wanted to melt into the contact. “You should at least try – you never know.”

“But –“ Luz stopped abruptly, shocked that tears were pricking at her eyes. “I think I ruined it today. We almost kissed, and then I pulled away – and now…”

“Hey,” Camilia squeezed Luz’s shoulder again. “Mija…”

“Lo siento,” Luz said.

“No,” Camilia pulled Luz into her chest again, running her fingers through her hair. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everything will be okay.”

* * *

Luz’s feet were heavy as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Her bones felt like lead, and her head pounded behind her eyes. She was sure it looked like she’d been crying – but other than wiping the tears, she couldn’t find it within her to care.

She was tired. And, perhaps if she slept, all her problems would dissipate.

Reaching the stairs, she made a beeline for her bedroom – when the spare room’s door cracked open. “Amity?” Luz said half-heartedly, voice coming out croaky.

Amity peeked through the crack she’d made, watching Luz with weary eyes. Luz gulped – and offered her a thumbs up.

The door shut again before she’d gotten an answer. Her fault. Luz wanted to curl up into a ball, and die.

Chapter 13: amity interlude i

Chapter Text

Nobody told Amity Blight that she’d have to spend her whole life worried about other people’s perceptions of her. It was the sort of thing she assumed she’d receive a warning about – when you’re young all you have are other people’s words to prop you up and prepare you for the real world. Amity always thought she’d have someone there, to help her – like everybody else.

She knows, now, that that was a naïve thought.

She is six, and it’s her first day at Hexside, and everybody is talking, but not to her. Amity doesn’t understand; her parents had told her that being quiet is good, and she’d do well – whatever that meant – if she could stay that way.

She gets put into a seat next to a vibrant girl with circular glasses and a bush of hair. “I’m Willow!” The girl says – loud enough to receive a scolding. “What’s your name?”

“Amity,” says Amity, because it’s courteous to respond when you’re directly addressed.

Willow smiles, unrestrained and joyful. “Do you like mangaya fruit? It’s my favourite, and my dads said that if I was good today, I could have it when I get home!”

This is confusing – Willow hasn’t been ‘good.’ She’s been loud and disruptive. Amity doesn’t say this. Instead, she says, “I’ve never had it.”

Behind the circular frames, Willow’s eyes widen like saucers. “You haven’t?” She asks. “But it’s so good!”

Amity doesn’t know how to respond to that. So she doesn’t.

“Maybe my dads will let me bring some in, for you,” Willow continues. “They wanted me to make a friend, and I did!” She falls silent, for a moment, and despite the hum of other activity around the classroom, Amity feels uncomfortable. “We are friends, right?”

“Yes,” Amity says. She wants a friend, too – and Willow is nice and pretty and confident, if a little loud.

“Cool!” Willow exclaims. And then she does the weirdest thing – she reaches over and hugs Amity. “I’m so glad we’re friends,” Willow titters on, but Amity is frozen to her seat. Why is a part of her uncomfortable with this?

Why is a part of her… not?

At break, they build sandcastles besides each other, and make up a story about who lives inside. At lunch, they’re served different trays – but this doesn’t bother Willow, who offers Amity some of her mashed potato if she can try some of ‘that green stuff’ (“avocado,” Amity informs softly, but Willow doesn’t pause her talking long enough to hear her.) At the end of the day, Willow hugs her again, before running off to her parents.

Amity catches a glance of the two men that embrace a running Willow in their arms, warmth on their faces as they pick her up and begin to pester her with questions. It’s inaudible – she’s too far behind – but Willow and her family seem happy.

“Miss Blight,” her driver calls, and Amity climbs into the hover-car, letting the door be shut behind her. She looks out the window as it begins to move – watches, as they drive past Willow and her dads, who are still smiling even though to their knowledge, nobody’s watching them.

The drive to the Blight Manor is short – they’ve got the best design of hover-car after all – and Amity enters the house quietly. As always, her house is silent; as she slips her shoes off and adjusts her brand-new uniform, preparing to go straight up to her bedroom until she’s called down to eat.

As she walks through the halls, she catches a door half-opened – the door to her living room. Inside, the twins are stood, arms outstretched to either side, both hands holding a pile of her father’s thick books, trembling. It’s a few weeks off of their eighth birthday, and they always tend to make the most trouble before being forced into doing something they don’t like. Ed’s face is red with exertion, and his eyebrows are pinched together, but his stance remains strong.

Em is having a harder time. She always does, when they land themselves in these kinds of situations. She has a book on her head that’s shaking, teetering. There’s a shine to her eyes that isn’t usually there – a wetness that only comes with unspoken frustration.

“Now, now, Emira,” their mother’s cold voice comes from somewhere Amity doesn’t care to try and look for. “You know if you drop that book, we’ll all start over. That wouldn’t be very fun, would it?”

“Yes, mother,” Emira gasps out, spine straightening. The shaking doesn’t stop.

Amity sighs, moving towards the stairs. It’s a sight she’s seen countless times before, and one she doesn’t care to see again. At first it had been confusing – now, she understood.

“Amity,” her father greets just as she reaches the bottom of the stairs. “How was your first day at Hexside?”

Amity regards her father like she regards everybody – looking for signs that indicate his mood. With her father, this is always easy, because his anger tends to take over his body like a wild boar, leading to tension all the way up his back and into his neck.

She sees none of this today, so she responds, “good.”

“That’s nice.” Alador says. “Have you seen your mother since you got in?”

Amity shakes her head. “Alright,” he says, and walks past her. She makes her way up the rest of the stairs, entering her bedroom.

Her family won’t ask – but she’ll know, and she’ll cherish. She made her first friend today.

* * *

As Amity grows up, she takes quiet note of everything her older siblings do that seem to anger her parents. They’ve taken to being ‘troublemakers’, as her father calls them when he’s in a good mood, and trying to calm his wife down. When they’re both angry, the word isn’t quite so nice.

They take the illusion track – her mother dislikes that. They make friends with everybody, which her parents frown upon. They pull ‘pranks’, that get bigger as the years go on, until they’re being sent home from school, and Amity comes home every day to a closed living room door and her mother’s voice, seeping through the frame.

Except, the more notes she takes about what not to do, the further she strays from them. They become a separate entity to her – two halves of the same whole, that she’ll never fit in with. They’ve already cemented their dynamic. They had each other long before she showed up, and who’s she to interrupt? Amity minds, of course, but she won’t say anything. It’s better to survive than to be close with her siblings.

They begin calling her ‘mittens’, because for her last birthday she got a pair from Odalia, and when they tried to prank her, they stole them – and she exploded at them. After Amity gets her gloves back, she starts to think it’s a nickname. That surely means they’re getting closer, right?

So, Amity lets the twins in, and they pour a bucket of red paint over her head at school and get her sent home, uniform ruined. She learns to trust carefully and fleetingly.

Home – if she can even call the Blight Manor that – becomes a warzone of the twins angering her parents, getting punished, and taking that frustration out on her with thinly-veiled ‘pranks’ that get closer and closer to hurting her. So she takes to spending more time with Willow (who, miraculously, has remained her friend, and not asked about why they never go to Amity’s house after school.) She meets Willow’s dads, who are both so nice to her that she finds herself trusting them, too. They don’t treat her like her family do – like she’s stupid, even though she has the best grades in her entire class and free pick over any magic track she could ever want.

“I think Willow’s going to take abomination classes,” her dad says when they’re crowded around their lopsided table, having finished eating. It’s been a common conversation topic, with the age for picking out tracks approaching quickly. “We’ve discussed it as a family, and it has the best opportunities.”

“I want to take Beast Keeping,” Amity says. She hasn’t said that out loud before – after her siblings took illusion magic, it was practically set in stone that she’d have to take abomination, just like her father. “But I probably won’t be able too.”

“Why not?” Willow’s father asks. “Beast Keeping is a very respectable magic choice.”

Amity shrugs. “I think I’ll end up in Abomination, too,” she says, turning to Willow and offering a smile. Willow grins back.

Her fathers exchange a look that Amity’s seen many times, now – one she can’t decipher. “Amity…” he says. “What do you want?”

“To go into the Beast Keeping track,” she said.

“But you’re not allowed to?”

She shook her head. “It’s alright,” she says, looking down into her lap where her hands have begun to fidget. “It’s like you said – abomination track has the best opportunities.”

“It’s not always about opportunity,” Willow’s dad says. “We also picked abomination because it’s one of the magics Willow enjoys the most.”

That night, Amity goes home, and thinks about that. Enjoyment as a source reasoning.

The time to pick their tracks comes, and in a flash of defiance, Amity writes her name under ‘Beast Keeping.’ She lets out a sigh as she does so, looking over to Willow, who gives her a large grin from her position in the Abomination line.

Everything’s fine… until it’s not.

That afternoon, Amity enters the house to see her mother, arms crossed. “Amity,” she says, a cold greeting. “I got a call from Principal Bump today.”

“Oh?” Amity asks, trying for innocence, but her voice comes out far too quiet with fear.

“Yes,” Odalia continues. “He told me you put your name under Beast Keeping. I told him that was absurd – because I thought you and I were on the same page about you taking Abomination classes? But apparently not.”

Amity slips off her shoes by the front door, taking as long as she possibly can with the task. She remains quiet.

“So, I had him change you over to Abomination,” her mother continues. “Because your… lapse in judgement shouldn’t have to have lasting effects on your future, right?”

“Okay,” Amity says. She meets her mother’s eyes.

“Okay,” Odalia says. “Next time you get any rebellious urges…”

Her eyes fall to the pile of Alador’s books on the mantle – the same books Amity has seen the twins holding countless times. Amity gulps, nodding.

“Good,” suddenly her mother’s smile is warm, and it’s hard to imagine that same face scolding her moments ago. “Do you have any homework to do?”

* * *

Amity takes Abomination classes. She does well – everybody tells her its because Abomination magic is in her blood.

Willow is not so lucky with the magic. Her parents find out, and the friendship Amity has worked so hard to keep is forbidden with the wave of a hand and a harsh dismissal.

Amity and Willow stop being friends.

* * *

Before long, Amity meets Boscha at one of her parent’s parties. They’ve dressed her up and left her to her own devices, except this isn’t the Blight Manor, so she can’t slip away into her bedroom as she usually does.

Instead, a girl with pink hair, three eyes, and an unfriendly sneer walks up to her. “You’re Amity?” She asks.

“Yeah,” Amity says.

“I’m Boscha.” Boscha is holding a cup of what looks to be the silvery drink in her parent’s crystal glasses, except she’s Amity’s age, so it can’t be. “You want to come and hang out?”

Amity follows Boscha to a group of girls, all her age, drinking the same stuff Boscha has. “It’s called tandrai,” Boscha explains. “Try it.”

“Am I allowed?” Amity asks – and she’s greeted with laughter in her face. It’s been a while since she cut ties with Willow, but it still shocks her how mean everybody else is.

“Who cares?” Boscha asks. “It’s scentless, anyway. Try some.”

Amity takes Boscha’s outstretched glass, and sips a little. It’s sweet, but leaves behind a bitter burn in the back of her throat. Amity splutters.

“Aw,” Boscha laughs, taking the glass back and downing two large gulps of the stuff. “Maybe you’re not quite ready for it yet, Blight.”

Amity forces a smile to her face, even though the bitterness sits like a boulder in her mouth – one that stops her from speaking. She sits there, with Boscha and her friends, for the rest of the night; listens to them talk about their families, and their lives. They’re each a little like her, Amity thinks. A lot more like her than anybody else has ever been.

The next week at school, Boscha singles her out from where she’s eating alone at lunch. “Hey, Amity,” she greets as she plants herself directly across from her.

“Boscha?” Amity asks. “What are you doing?”

“My parents say I should hang out with you,” she says sourly, “so here I am. We both need somebody to talk to, anyway.”

Amity doesn’t get any time to address that, because two others sit down besides her. “Meet Skara and Cat,” Boscha says.

“Hi,” Amity says to the silver-haired girl besides her. Skara gives her a once-over, before turning back to her tray of food.

From that day forwards, they’re friends – as close to ‘friends’ as they can be when they’re really only acquaintances of convenience. They begin finding each other much faster whenever their parents hold parties, and Boscha stops teasing Amity when she doesn’t take the silvery liquid offered.

One day, Amity comes home from school, and Odalia is waiting in the hallway. “Oh, Amity,” she says, an unnatural warmth to her voice that Amity has only heard when she wants something. “How was your day at school?”

“It was good,” Amity says, slipping off her shoes. “Do you need something?”

Her eyes fall to the bottle in her mother’s hands. “I just want to try it out,” Odalia says, noting Amity’s gaze. “It’s green hair dye.”

“Why?” Amity asks. “My hair’s just fine.”

“But you’re spending so much of your time with people that matter, now,” she says, and her smile grows until it places a dagger of dread straight into Amity’s chest. “Wouldn’t it be better if our family were a little more… colour-coordinated?”

* * *

At eleven, Amity’s ventures to the library become a saving grace. The twins – at fourteen – are causing so much trouble that she practically goes unnoticed at home, save for the occasional question about her grades. It’s easy to slip out under the guise of studying.

After a few weeks of daily visits, the librarian – a kind woman who asks Amity to call her, “Dahlia,” even though Amity couldn’t imagine calling her anything but “Mrs Orblood,” – introduces herself, and begins recommending Amity books.

Mrs Orblood is sweet, and spirited – and one too many times, Amity catches herself watching as she reads whatever picture book she’s picked out that week to a small cluster of children that seem to adore her as much as she does them. She doesn’t treat Amity like she’s a child; often recommending Amity books that she’s read herself, so they can have long conversations about the twists and the turns of the plot.

It’s on one of those days, where Amity is sitting besides the desk and finishing a book, when another woman enters and kisses Mrs Orblood on the cheek, peeking over her shoulder and onto the book she’s reading. Amity can’t help but watch with a morbid curiosity, as Mrs Orblood laughs and leans back into the other woman’s touch, speaking in a hushed voice to this stranger. The exchange is short – and all too soon, the stranger has stood back up, and wandered off to peruse the aisles of shelves.

“My wife,” Mrs Orblood says, and Amity feels her face heat after being noticed. “She comes and visits me at work, sometimes.”

“She seems nice,” Amity says. Her eyes drop back to her book – and the exchange ends.

Mrs Orblood doesn’t question Amity when she begins staying longer hours each day – showing up the moment Hexside lets out, and leaving when the sun is down and her stomach is growling angrily at her. “You know,” she says one day, when Amity has been shuffling to find a comfortable position on the public chairs for the better part of two hours, “there’s a room nobody else uses.”

Amity looks up at her. “What do you mean?”

From where she’s situated, Amity’s within perfect view to see the wrinkles along Mrs Orblood’s brow crease in the same way they do when she’s reading the sad section of a book. “You spend a lot of time here, dear,” she begins, “and I thought maybe you’d like a quiet room to study by yourself.”

“I don’t understand,” Amity says.

“Just – come with me.”

Amity follows her through the shelves, until they’re near the back of the library, in the romance section. “Mrs Orblood,” Amity begins, “I don’t like romance books-“

But Mrs Orblood pulls a book out slightly, and a door opens – straight out of a mystery novel. “Oh,” says Amity.

“Come on,” she says, and Amity is following her inside. The room is moderately sized (secret rooms are never massive, after all) and dim, with scarce decorations save for a couple of shelves of books, and a desk.

“This is so cool,” Amity says. “But why are you showing me?”

“It’s yours, if you want it,” Mrs Orblood says. “Nobody uses it anyway.”

“Mine?” Amity asks.

“To hang out in when you need some privacy,” says Mrs Orblood. “I’m sure looking over your shoulder at every tiny noise can be exhausting.”

“I can’t – I’d feel bad,” Amity says. “You can’t just give me a room. I don’t even work here!”

“Alright,” says Mrs Orblood, “then how about you work here?”

“I’m confused,” Amity admits.

Mrs Orblood smiles softly. “I’m getting too old to read to the kids,” she says, “and I think you’d be the perfect replacement. A couple hours a week – and this room is yours.”

“Okay,” Amity says almost without thinking. “I’ll do it.”

Mrs Orblood smiles, and reaches over to pat Amity’s head softly. “You’re a good kid,” she says, and Amity can’t decipher what she means by that before she’s left alone in the room with instructions to, ‘explore.’

Amity meanders for a while, looking at the books that are blanketed in a thin layer of dust. It’s a mix – several copies of books that are already on display, or books that are out of print, and popularity.

She sits at the desk, and breathes. The room is quiet – but it’s not unsettling in the same way it is in her bedroom, where she tenses every time somebody walks up the stairs. It’s… peaceful.

There’s a cranking behind her, and Amity turns to see Mrs Orblood. “Sorry, dear,” she says, “but I forgot I wanted to give you this, too. You finished your last one a few days ago, right?”

“Yeah,” Amity says.

“This one’s a real treat. And it’s a series, too.”

Mrs Orblood places a book on the desk – Amity’s desk – and leaves. Amity traces the cover with her finger.

“The Good Witch Azura…” she mumbles to herself, before opening the first page.

The book is good. The room becomes Amity’s safe haven – and, with Mrs Orblood’s permission, she begins switching out the books for her own, and decorating the walls with posters she can find.

She reads the other three Good Witch Azura books quickly. She enjoys them – that much she says to Mrs Orblood, who smiles and mumbles an, “I knew you would,” in response. What she doesn’t say, however, is that Azura and Hecate act differently together than she’s ever acted with her… friends. The same way Mrs Orblood acts with her wife.

This gives Amity butterflies. She tries not to think about it too much.

* * *

Luz makes an appearance when Amity is fourteen, and promptly ruins Amity’s life. First, she’s demoted from star pupil – which her parents won’t like – and then Amity’s chance at getting into the Emperor’s Coven is blown out by a cheating human and her social outcast of a mentor.

(But then Amity’s told that she cheated, too, and – yes, Lilith isn’t the best of people… but they’re the good guys. How had they cheated?)

Luz shows Amity her light spell, and Amity releases her from the oath, and they part ways. Amity thinks about that moment a lot – in a back alley, with Luz’s earnest expressions. It’s stupid, really, that someone can’t conceal how they’re feeling, and just lets it… show on their face like that.

Amity trains with Lilith twice a week, now, after school. The convention had put a hold on that – but now that they’re back, Lilith is vigorous with what she puts Amity through. Amity fights and trains until her exhaustion is palpable, the overuse of magic makes her head feel like it’s filling with knives, and she’s panting so hard for breath that her lungs ache within her chest.

“Stop,” she says, walking over to where she keeps a bottle of water. “Just… a minute.”

Lilith lets up (that’s one of the things Amity likes about Lilith – she, unlike a couple of people in Amity’s life, knows what boundaries are.) “Sorry,” she says, finally taking note of Amity as she half-collapses to the floor, drawing her knees up to her chest to rest her head on one. “I’m pushing you hard – because…”

“Because we lost, I know,” Amity says, drinking more water. “But we won’t lose again. I don’t lose.”

“You lost before,” Lilith points out.

“You made me cheat,” Amity responds.

“I just-“ Lilith lets out a groan that’s so unlike her, Amity has to blink. Lilith is usually the picture of poise and perfection, but now her hands are tangled up in her pin-straight hair. “Edalyn is so irritating!”

“Why?” Amity pushes. Her breaths are still heavy, but the ache in her limbs is beginning to lessen.

“She cheated!” Lilith says. “And she always cheats – she cheated at school, you know. It’s in her nature. First Grudgby, then at her trek – and now at the Convention.”

Lilith lets out a huffy sort of sound that makes her seem much younger than she’s seemed before, and Amity stands. “I don’t understand,” Amity says. “You’re mad at her because she cheated? But we cheated, too.”

“Because we have to beat her!” Lilith half-yells. “You’d never get into the Emperor’s Coven if it got out that you were beaten in a magic fight by a filthy human!” Lilith’s laugh comes out slightly deranged. “Besides, we had to cheat, because I knew she was going to cheat.”

Amity frowns. “Okay,” she says. Lilith scares her, a little bit. Sometimes.

Lilith sucks in a deep breath, and exhales it upwards. “Sorry, Amity,” she says, brushing her fingers through her hair until it’s exactly the same as it always is. “We’re done for the day. You can go home.”

“Alright,” Amity says, walking to grab her bag. “I’ll see you next week, then?”

Lilith doesn’t respond. Part of Amity didn’t really expect her to. Lilith, as much as they parade their ‘mentor-and-mentee’ dynamic around, believes Amity is inferior to her. Which is fine – it could be worse.

She takes the hover-car home, and walks up to her bedroom, collapsing face-first and letting out a long sigh into her pillow. The words, ‘filthy human,’ play over in her head.

What would her parents say if they knew she’d been speaking with a human? Something about their reputation, she was sure. Perhaps her mother would yell at her in the way that made her voice go hoarse quickly, the way she did when she was really angry. Or, maybe her father would find this argument worthy of his time, and cast a silencing spell on her for a week. That in particular had always been fun.

Amity rolled over, and shut her eyes. It wasn’t worth thinking about if it wasn’t happening. They had no way of knowing that Amity spoke to Luz.

* * *

Luz teams up with Ed and Em – and there’s nothing that can go right about that. They find her diary, and Amity finds herself in a situation in which she can’t conceal the tears that well up in her eyes as she looks upon everything that should be hers, that should be left alone.

At the end of that, Amity and Luz walk out a little closer than before. Positive. They might even be friends, Amity thinks.

But they get home, and when asked where they were, Ed and Em don’t hesitate to throw Amity under the bus. Her mother blinks, long eyelashes casting spider-like shadows onto the wall besides her. “Human?” She asks, and her voice takes on that sickly sweetness that Amity comes to fear.

They’re friends, Amity reminds herself, as she sits through the lecturing that isn’t aggressive more as it is back-handed with comments that cut into her until she’s a bloodied mess. Amity takes it all, desensitised, before going upstairs and wishing for the thousandth time that she had a lock on her bedroom door.

She’s made a friend – and a real one, this time, not just an acquaintance she hangs out with through her parents. Luz might not be warm to her, but it’s a lot closer than Amity’s been with anyone in a while.

* * *

They’re friends… until they’re not.

* * *

It’s when Amity turns sixteen that the dread sets in. Sixteen, in the Boiling Isles, is the age in which the elite families begin looking at possible marriages, forging relations that benefit business more than they do pleasure.

Boscha remembers. Boscha, who snuck her a cake the night before with a single candle in it, and who gives her a sympathetic grimace from across the room as Amity’s introduced in her too-tight dress to a room full of blank-faced ‘suitors.’ Boscha, who’s already been through all this.

Perhaps the two of them are better friends than Amity thought they were.

Amity wasn’t present when the twins went through this – of course, it was only Emira that went through a party hosted at the Blight Manor, because boys didn’t get these sorts of parties. But now they’re both away on their treks, hours away and probably oblivious to the fact that their little sister has come of age, and Amity is all alone.

She hates the twins (no, she doesn’t. She might. She doesn’t know) but she really wished they were here right now. Instead, she’s forced to smile as she holds a cup of whatever drink she’s been handed a little too tightly, laughing at jokes that aren’t funny, and pretending that she likes boys.

Most of her ‘suitors’ turn out to not be particularly interested in her – which gives her the perfect opportunity to slip off halfway through the night, and enter her bedroom. By now, Boscha’s passed her a flask of tandrai that she stuffed into the hem of her tights, which she pulls out, now, pouring carelessly into her glass. It’s gotten easier to stomach the bitterness as time went on, and now Amity can focus on the warmth it creates in her chest.

Her door clicks open, and one of the boys peeks his head in. “Hi,” he says. “Thought I saw you come up here.”

Amity’s head is still clear – so she’s able to plaster on a smile over her irritation. “Is there something you need?” She asks, and if there’s an added bite to her words, it isn’t mentioned.

“I’m Edgar,” the boy says. “Amity, right?”

“Amity,” Amity confirms. The boy nods, and when the silence begins to set in, he comes further into her bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“You had enough of the party?” He asks, coming to sit a little too close on her bed besides her. Amity crosses one leg over the other so she’s facing away from him, slightly, and takes another sip of her drink.

“Yes,” she says. “To be honest, it’s a little overwhelming.”

“You get used to it,” Edgar says. “I’ve been going to them for years.”

“Ah, but you’ve never had one of your own, right?” Amity asks. “Different experiences.”

Edgar shrugs. “Close enough, right?” Humour seeps into his voice, but Amity is in no mood to laugh. “Anyway. What are you drinking?”

Amity looks down at her glass. The silvery liquid is obvious – he’s just fishing for conversation. “Nothing,” she says, setting the glass aside. “Why are you here?”

“You’re very pretty,” Edgar says. He scoots closer to her, and this time Amity doesn’t hide her actions as she moves away. “Girls at these types of parties usually aren’t.”

He comes closer again. Amity doesn’t have much room left to move. “Edgar,” she warns.

“What do you think?” Edgar asks. “Our parents like each other. You think you could see yourself marrying me?”

His breath is in her face. “Stop,” she says, scrunching up her nose to rid it of the scent. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“Don’t be uncomfortable,” he says. One of his hands lands on her thigh, and he squeezes slightly, through the dress. “It’s all right.”

Amity reaches for her drink, and splashes its remaining contents all over his face. “Get off me,” she says. “I said I was uncomfortable.”

Edgar freezes – wiping tandrai from his eyes. “Fine,” he says, and the aggression in his voice is sudden enough to make Amity flinch. “You’ll regret this.”

He leaves, and Amity breathes. She could’ve handled that better; her parents will surely think so. Spirits, her parents will probably throw a fit once the night is over.

A knock on her door gives her barely enough time to look up before Odalia is storming into the room, face ablaze. “You poured tandrai all over Edgar Pouillon?” She hisses at Amity. “How dare you be so disrespectful!”

Her mother doesn’t ask for Amity’s explanation, so Amity doesn’t give her one. She zones out – as her mother continues to berate, voice rising in tone. “You’ve embarrassed our entire family!” Odalia continues. “Not to mention that the Pouillon’s were your best option – not that they’ll consider you anymore. And where did you even get tandrai from-?”

It’s the harsh pain to her cheek that focusses her in again, and she raises her eyes to her mother’s. “Are you even listening to me?” Odalia asks. “You’re as bad as the twins. Wait until that calms, and then come down. We’re eating.”

She leaves with the slamming of a door, and Amity’s hand comes up to her cheek, that’s now warm and stinging. She should have seen that coming, too.

Amity pours herself some more tandrai, downing it quickly, before heading down the stairs, handprint proudly displayed across her cheek.

* * *

Three months later, Amity makes a one-way visit to the Owl House. Exhaustion has become a cold constant within her, making her bones ache with lethargy at every step. She’s cold, too – colder than a witch probably should be. But she can’t go to Willow, because Willow’s dads hate her, now, and she can’t go to Boscha, because Boscha’s parents would send her back – and Luz is the only one she has left.

Luz lets her in (because of course she does; Luz is too kind for her own good, and somebody needs to tell her to grow some walls.) Luz talks, and Amity can’t quite forget the cold and the exhaustion but it dulls slightly when she’s with her.

Eda, however, is a walking depiction of Lilith – of everything Amity’s ran from – and it all comes crashing back. It’s in moments like these, where Amity hasn’t been exercising, but air is still short, and it feels like she’ll die, that she needs to be alone.

She quells it as long as she can – sticking with Luz, watching her as she makes easy conversation with a woman that could end her with the click of her fingers. Her breaths slow, evening out with forced regularity, and she eats until she can’t, until there’s nothing left.

And she’s trusting Luz because she has to, of course – because Amity can’t be alone any longer. She needs somebody to be there, if at least so Amity can get enough sleep to be able to watch out for herself. Her relationship with Luz (whatever it is) is purely out of convenience.

Besides, Luz’s smile makes her forget about the worms in her stomach and the inertia in her head, for a moment – and maybe that’s enough.

* * *

They are in the human world, and it’s colder than Amity had expected it to be. And Luz doesn’t like Amity – not the way Amity likes Luz. Not in the way that Hecate and Azura like each other. And – spirits – Amity had been reading it wrong, and now she’d ruined everything.

Luz was a danger zone, and around her, Amity was a mess. Amity couldn’t control the beating of her heart when she was around Luz – so loud, she worried Luz would be able to hear it, too, desperately pounding against the confines of her ribcage. And – Amity wanted something with Luz that she couldn’t have.

She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

She can’t do this anymore.

Chapter 14: silence

Chapter Text

Luz woke, and thoughts of Amity filled her head. Sleep had come, eventually – but before it, she’d been restless, replaying the night’s events over in her head. The shutting of the door. Amity’s face – Amity’s silence – as she’d shut Luz out. Amity had shut the door in her face, for spirits’ sake. Amity had shut the door. The same Amity who was kind underneath it all, who never lashed out (not at Luz, at least), and always kept a head calm enough to sort through problems as they arose.

Not this one, though. Luz had well and truly messed this one up.

She needed to get over Amity – get over whatever stupid feelings she had for her, and start working to try and salvage what was left of their friendship after she’d ruined it the night before.

But… she didn’t want to get rid of those feelings. Because Amity’s lips had looked so good, in that treehouse, on that night… maybe they’d have been soft as they’d touched Luz’s own.

Neither Luz nor Amity talked much on the Sunday – Amity didn’t wake until almost noon, at which point Camilia had recovered enough from her night shift to insist that they spend the short while of the afternoon together, before they returned to the Boiling Isles. Luz wanted to talk to Amity, of course, but Amity wouldn’t even look at her. She thought about that.

Camilia got out a board game. They sat around a table. Amity flinched when Luz extended a hand to her, holding the dice.

At least they had King, she thought – King, who’s endless chatter and confusion about the game kept the silence at bay and Camilia distracted from the problems Luz created. They played to the beat of his voice – Luz forced a laugh every once in a while, so he wouldn’t get suspicious, either.

Amity’s eyes were red-rimmed. Luz thought about that, too.

But the afternoon passed quickly, and soon Luz was swinging on a backpack and following her mother to what they’d affectionately began to call the Owl Shed – where Eda opened the door at the same time every Sunday night, and Luz parted ways with her mom for another week. She had King tucked in one arm, where he was drifting to sleep amidst his nonsensical mumbling.

Amity, who usually walked by her side, was behind her, out of Luz’s view. Perhaps, Luz thought deprecatingly, that was for the better.

Luz thought she’d been hiding it well (the whole I-messed-everything-up-and-it-feels-like-my-life-is-imploding thing), but Eda took one look at her, and another at Amity, two paces too many behind her, and gestured them through the door. “Go ahead,” she said, patting Luz on the back as she passed, and plucking the sleeping King straight out of her arms. “Camilia and I are going to have a little talk.”

And then the door had shut, and Amity and Luz were left alone in the shed besides the Owl House.

Luz cleared her throat. “So, uh… want to head inside?”

They walked out of the shed, and around to the front door. King’s absence left Luz with a weirdly cold patch of her torso, and nothing to do with her hands other than fidget nervously with the hem of her top as she walked to the door.

“Luz!” Hooty called, his long neck extending to greet her. “You were gone forever.”

“It’s been two days, Hooty,” Luz said, and she couldn’t seem to find any pep in the words – not even for him.

“And… Amity,” Hooty said, audibly gulping on air (a gulp that, Luz watches and grimaces as she does, travels all the way down his long neck until it disappears into the door.) “Come in!”

For once, Luz wasn’t glad that Hooty stopped talking – sure, it was funny at first that Amity struck genuine fear in him, but now it left them… silent. Again.

Luz hated the quiet.

“I wonder what my mom’s talking about with Eda?” She asked. “They don’t talk a lot – other than the interactions you’ve seen. Have I told you they’re really competitive with each other? They are. For some reason I don’t understand, and they won’t tell me what it is. But it’s fine.”

She cleared her throat. “But… yeah. They never talk outside of those few minutes each week. Maybe Eda’s got a problem? Nah, she’d never go to my mom about that. Maybe… I don’t know.”

She spared a glance at Amity. “I’ll put our bags upstairs,” she offered, holding out a hand for the backpack Amity was holding gingerly in front of her by the strap, letting it bounce against her knees. Amity spared a moment to look from the bag and to Luz’s hand again, before forfeiting it.

“Okay,” Luz said with a smile, and then she was taking the steps two at a time to get up to their bedroom.

Their bedroom. They were back to sharing a room, Luz noted. No more avoiding each other.

She put the bags down at the end of the mattress, using her now-free hands to slap against her cheeks. “Pull it together, Noceda!” She whispered to herself. “You can repair this friendship!”

With another few seconds to pull herself together, quelling the guilt until it was a small well in the back of her consciousness, she headed back downstairs.

“Um,” she continued, “is there anything you want to do then? We still have a couple hours before we have to sleep.”

Amity’s arms crossed over her chest as she observed the living room. She didn’t say anything, and the air settled into the crevices of the silence, moulding to it until Luz was suffocating in it.

“I’m sure you’re tired,” Luz went on. “Or – maybe you’re not? It really isn’t my place to assume.”

Amity hummed, noncommittal. “Right,” Luz said. “Hungry? I’m hungry.”

She wasn’t hungry – but she walked to the kitchen anyway. “I… what do we have?” She asked, more to herself than anything, reaching up to open cupboards she already knew the contents of. “Want a sandwich?”

She hadn’t been expecting a reply, but the quiet still cut into her. “You’re right.” She stepped away from the counter, turning back to Amity. “We just ate. I shouldn’t… eat more.”

Their eyes met – Amity’s, from across the room, in the doorway of the living room. Amity looked pale, there (maybe Luz was just so used to seeing the flush of joy across her cheeks, she looked… empty without it.) And for once, Luz couldn’t find words.

“Sorry,” Amity said. Her voice came out croaky, and she coughed gently into the crook of her elbow.

Luz frowned. “What?” She asked. “What for?”

“I shouldn’t have assumed you were-“

The door swung open, and Eda entered the Owl House, King tucked into the crook of her shoulder the same way one would hold a baby. “Right, kids,” she said, shutting the door behind her. “I’m back! Gotta put King to sleep, though – poor sucker’s exhausted.”

She turns, then, taking in Luz and Amity, and the quiet. “What did you and my mom talk about?” Luz jumped to ask, half-glad for the intrusion, even though part of her itched with curiosity over what Amity had been about to say.

“Nothing,” Eda’s resulting laugh was high-pitched, and she waved her free hand nonchalantly at the girls. “Don’t worry about it, kid. That’s business between me and your mother.”

Luz frowned. “Why do you seem flustered?” She asked. “You never get flustered.”

“I’m not!” Eda’s voice was climbing in volume. “I’m – leaving. With King.”

“Okay,” Luz said as Eda brushed past them, disappearing a moment after she passed Amity in the doorway. “Well, then. You were saying?”

Amity shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “I’m – I have homework.”

“Right,” Luz nodded. “Yeah. Me too. We should… do that.”

But Amity was already gone – and Luz was alone in the kitchen. She turned towards the counter and groaned loudly, hands rubbing into her eyes harshly.

Was this how it was going to be from now on? Luz rambling messily with all the words that built up in her head, and Amity passively listening? She’d hate that. They couldn’t continue like that. That wasn’t how a friendship worked.

It might be all that they had left, though. If this – this dynamic, this part of Amity, the barest amount of warmth she had to offer – was all that she could salvage… maybe that was the best she could do.

The night before replayed in her head for the thousandth time that day. Had Amity been scared, as Luz leant in? Had she missed it; too caught up in her own thoughts and feelings to catch the signs pushing her away?

They hadn’t kissed. Luz’s greatest regret, and her biggest relief. She hadn’t taken it that far. But Amity was still distant, and Luz’s chest still ached.

She just… needed to fix this. Whatever ‘this’ was, anyway.

* * *

They’d stayed apart for the rest of the evening – Luz had taken refuge in Eda’s room, much like the nights back when she’d just learnt about Eda’s curse, and made excuses to spend time with her, because she didn’t want to admit that when she couldn’t see Eda, well and alive (and human – well, witch), thoughts of the monster plagued her. Eda didn’t ask, like she never did back when Luz was fourteen, when Luz spread her books across the floor and began working that evening. She just went back to working on her potions, reminding Luz to be quiet every time she began clicking her pen a little too incessantly.

Luz didn’t get any work done – it was one thing forcing herself to stay still, and another focussing on something that wasn’t Amity, and the words had all blurred into one dark splodge on her page she couldn’t hope to decipher. But the sun set, and soon Eda was nudging her shoulder softly, and reminding her it was time to sleep.

Amity was in their room when Luz returned. She’d changed into her pyjamas, Luz noted – and was sitting on her bed, facing the window. Luz had interrupted her meditation, then. Another mistake to add to the list.

“Sorry,” she whispered, picking up her bag and heading to the bathroom.

She changed quickly. Silence outside – then shuffling. Then silence. Luz brushed her teeth as quietly as she could, and washed her face. There was an uncomfortable energy zipping up her arms – a restlessness. She cracked her knuckles, but it didn’t go away.

“Spirits,” Luz whispered under her breath. “Stop it, Luz.”

Shaking her hands out several times, she opened the bathroom door, tiptoeing over to her mattress. Amity had tucked herself under the covers, and was laid on her back, eyes closed. They opened as Luz put her bag down, and Luz winced at the mistake, sliding into bed herself.

And then there was just the sounds of their breaths – deep and disjointed. It was always strange going back to sharing a room after a night without each other’s presence.

“Night, Amity,” Luz ventured, softly. Because she’d always said goodnight before – and maybe this was her way of reaching out.

Amity rolled over, until her back was facing Luz. The silence weighed down.

* * *

She woke up, and she was alone. Thoughts of Amity filled her head. She should have expected to wake alone – Amity was never there when Luz woke up in the mornings.

Luz took her time getting up, stretching her arms upwards and letting the cool air hit the skin of her stomach and send a shiver up her spine. It was cold outside; the window was fogged over. Maybe it had rained overnight.

She brushed a hand through her hair, yawning as she went downstairs. It was quiet – also, not unusual. Maybe things were going back to normal, then; minus the Luz and Amity situation, Eda had no reason to act differently around either of them. Maybe today was one of their quiet days.

Made it harder to predict how Luz was going to impose, though. She couldn’t plan her interruption to be as painless as possible when she couldn’t hear an opening.

She reached the bottom of the stairs, padding over to the living room doorway and peeking her head around. Eda was… alone, on the sofa, knitting needles clicking together in a rhythmic pattern.

“Eda?” Luz asked in place of a greeting. Eda turned, a smile lighting up her face.

“Luz!” Eda said. “Morning, kid. You’re up early.”

“Eda…” Luz wandered over to the kitchen – it was empty. There hadn’t been sound upstairs; nobody was there, either. “Where’s Amity?”

Chapter 15: the search

Chapter Text

For as long as Luz had known Eda, Eda had never freaked out. She was the type of person that, outwardly, seemed to have her life together (inwardly was probably a different situation – but Eda’s talent had always been in her suave smiles and charisma, distracting whoever into a false sense of security.)

But if Luz had ever seen an exception, today was the day. Luz had known Eda long enough to observe her ‘tells’; the twitch of her brow, downwards for concern. The dropping of the knitting needles in her hand, uncaring to whether the yarn would knot where she left it. The standing, hurried and discomposed.

Eda spared a moment to look behind Luz, as if this was all some stupid prank, and Amity would pop out of the stairwell with a “surprise!” But seconds passed, and no such noise came.

“I thought she was with you,” Eda said, feigning calm even though she’d already gotten up, and her fingers were probably knotting an anxious dance into each other from where she held them behind her back. “Maybe she slept in?”

Luz shook her head, eyes turning to the stairwell. “She was gone when I woke up – but she’s always gone when I wake up.”

Eda nodded. “I was surprised when she wasn’t down here when I came down, but I figured the kid could use the sleep.” She let out a breath, a hand pulling down her face. “So, she’s not here.”

“No.”

“You think she ran?”

“I don’t know,” Luz said, a pit forming in her throat. “I – I can’t remember if her bag was in my room, or maybe it was gone – or –“

“Luz,” Eda walked over to where she stood, just in front of the kitchen doorway, and wrapped her into a hug. Luz had always liked Eda’s hugs – warm and all-encompassing. It didn’t bring her much comfort right now, though. “Run upstairs and check. Maybe she left a note, or something.”

Eda let her go, and she ran up the stairs. A note was possible; maybe Amity had gone out for something. This was all a misunderstanding; what a relief that would be.

She burst into her shared bedroom, and it was as empty as it was when she’d left it, five minutes prior. Luz’s backpack from their weekend in the human world was still placed at the end of her bed, rifled through but not yet unpacked.

Amity’s was gone.

“Nothing,” Luz called as she went back down, to see Eda frowning. “Her bag’s gone, too.”

“Alright,” Eda nodded. “Then she probably ran away.”

“From us?” Luz asked. The pit in her throat was morphing into a seed – growing, until its vines were wrapping around her windpipe, curling around her tongue – choking her. “But… why?”

She knew why. Spirits, of all the endings Luz had imagined for her desires, this had never been one of them. This was her fault. She’d pushed Amity away, and Amity had left. It was only a question of how Luz had managed to mess it all up so badly. How hadn’t she seen that Amity was taking it much harder than she let on? And whilst Amity was suffering, Luz had… joked, and rambled, and not apologised.

“Not important right now,” Eda dismissed. “You have to stay calm, Luz. What matters right now is that she’s alone, and probably at risk.”

“At risk?” Luz asked.

“Her parents could find her much easier if she’s fending for herself,” Eda said, “and her parents are probably the biggest risk there is. We have to find her first.”

“How do we…” Luz trailed off. Her breaths were short and choppy. Eda was right; she was panicking. Panic wouldn’t help.

“We go where we think she’d go,” Eda said. “If we have something she left behind, I can cast a spell to see where she went – that only works for the past hour, though. If she left anytime before that, it’s useless.”

“I can ask Willow,” Luz said. “Willow and Amity were childhood friends – maybe she’ll know where Amity would have gone. Or Boscha!”

“I’ll go visit Lilith,” Eda said, a grimace slipping into her voice. “See if the Blight’s have found her already. Lilith’s always been a boaster – she’ll know.”

“Alright,” Luz said. “I’ll go to Willow’s, then. Text me if you hear anything.”

For once, Eda doesn’t protest about Luz’s incorrect language (you can’t ‘text’ on a scroll, you page, it’s in the name ‘scroll’) – and when she shut the front door, all that greeted her was the empty silence.

* * *

Luz had been to Willow’s house enough times that she knew the way, but not enough to require more than two hands to count her visits. After the initial summer of Luz’s time in the Boiling Isles, back when she was fourteen, when her mom found out about witches and Luz began returning to the human world every weekend, it became easier to have their hangouts anywhere that wasn’t a house – public places, like theatres and conventions and markets. Luz had gone to Willow’s house, still, as Willow had come to hers, but with Hexside picking up its workload and minimal time to hang out, visits outside of school seemed to drift away into barely-there birthday celebrations, or emergencies.

So, she was sure that the sight of her, panting and in pyjamas, an hour before Hexside started, was probably a bit of a shock.

“Hi,” Luz said to Willow’s dad, who’d answered the door. “Is – is Willow up?”

“Yeah,” he responded. “Are you alright?”

Luz straightened up, gulping all the air she could, and attempting to look at least somewhat presentable. “I’m all good,” she said. “I just… can I speak to her?”

He gave her a sceptical once over, but invited her in.

Luz had always liked Willow’s house, too – the interior that was more for comfort than it was for appearance, with the sofa’s mismatched cushions and worn, tall wooden table. Willow was sat at that table with her other father, eating a bowl of something and listening to him chatting animatedly about… sandworms.

“Who was it?” She interrupted her father’s chatter to ask, turning to the doorway. Willow wasn’t wearing her glasses. Her pyjamas had little carrots on them.

“Hey,” Luz waved with one hand. “Um – I need to talk to you.”

Willow gave Luz a surprisingly quick once over, before she stood, abandoning her bowl of breakfast and walking over to Luz. “Let’s go to my room,” she said, more a command than a suggestion, grabbing Luz’s wrist and pulling her through the Park kitchen.

Luz was still trying to catch her breath, but as they ascended the stairs, her eyes caught on the family photos adorning the walls. There was one for every year of school Willow had been through, apparently, posing by their front door with her parents. Some others stuck out – her as a baby, with only a tuft of deep blue hair.

She’d have cooed if she didn’t feel so sick.

Willow pushed the first door they saw open, tugging Luz in and shutting it behind them. “Okay,” she said, twisting to look Luz in the eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Luz inhaled, but her breath caught at the back of her throat. “Amity,” she croaked. “She’s missing.”

“What?” Willow asked, head tilting. “Alright.”

“No,” Luz began, “she’s – we think she ran away. It’s my fault, of course, because we almost kissed, and-“

“Stop,” Willow commanded, approaching Luz with a hand outstretched. It landed on her shoulder, warm and steadying, and Luz did her best to focus on it. “I’m confused. Can you start from the beginning?”

“I like Amity,” Luz said. “And – I don’t know, I thought she might like me too? But I also didn’t want to pressure her into anything, because she’s relying on me for a place to live, and I didn’t want to… take advantage of her, I guess? But then we went home for the weekend, and I must’ve read the signs wrong or something, because we almost kissed. I tried to kiss her, and made her totally uncomfortable, and then now she’s gone.”

Luz finished with a harsh exhale, lips involuntarily pulling downwards. “We – we have to find her before her parents find her,” she said. “You know her parents.”

Willow nodded. “Alright. You tried to kiss Amity, knowing you’d be taking advantage of her, and she pushed you away?”

“No,” Luz said defensively, before pausing. “Well, kind of. I pulled away – she didn’t push me. I’d never do anything without her consent.”

“But you did try,” Willow said. “And now she’s freaked, and… what, you want to bring her back?”

“I don’t care where she stays,” Luz said, “as long as she’s safe. I just need to know she’s safe. Her family… her mom…”

Willow softened. “Okay. I’ll help you find her.”

“Thank you,” said Luz, pulling Willow into a tight hug. “I don’t know where she’d go. Is there anywhere… when she was younger, did she ever…”

“No,” she said. “When Amity needed to escape… well, she always came here.”

“I thought so,” Luz nodded. “And she hasn’t shown up today?”

“No.” Willow said. Luz frowned.

“I’m just worried,” she admitted, moving to take a seat on Willow’s bed. “To be honest, I feel kind of sick. We have to find her, Willow – It’s my fault she even got herself into this situation.”

“Stop it,” Willow scolded. “You’re not wrong, but we’re wasting time. How about we make a list of places she could have gone?”

* * *

Ten minutes later, and they’d drawn up a few options for places Amity could have gone. Luz had practically bitten a hole into her lower lip, and Willow’s handwriting was messier than its usual scratch.

Her dad came up, knocking twice before he opened the door. “You ready for school, kiddos?”

Luz and Willow both looked up from their position on the floor, the list a sea of white emptiness. He took in what must have been a sorry sight, and nodded.

“I’ll tell them you’re sick,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Somewhere between Luz stepping out so Willow could get dressed and the two of them walking to the woods on the edge of town, Willow had managed to slip a text to Gus, who’d shown up in his uniform and with breakfast sandwiches for the both of them. “My mom’s nice,” he said, when Luz asked him if it was okay to be skipping a day of school. “Plus, I have illusion magic – nobody will ever know the three of us weren’t there.”

The woods were vast, and (suggested by Willow) the perfect place for an angsty teenager to run away to. They walked through them until Luz’s feet were sore, and her voice was hoarse, and the sun was high enough in the sky to beat through the tree branches and onto her pyjama-clad shoulders. Eventually, they’d given up, heading to the school – their second destination.

The school was empty. Luz should have known Amity wouldn’t go to hide from her at a place she knew they’d both be. It was worth a try, though, she tried to remind herself. Every destination they eliminated meant each new one they tried was more likely.

Luz had suggested the library as a last resort (not that they’d had much on the list in the first place; Amity was a withdrawn person.) And surely she wouldn’t go there, anyway, knowing that the last time she was there, she’d had to escape because her parents were on the cusp of tracking her down.

It had begun to rain as they left the school and headed over to the library, and Luz cursed her bad luck. Was this a sign, then, that she shouldn’t check the library? That it was a waste of time? Perhaps this was all a waste of time, and Amity’s parents already had her?

She hadn’t heard anything from Eda; she chose to take that as a good sign.

Willow, Gus and Luz split once they entered the library. Gus headed to the second floor balconies, and Willow moved towards the left side of the ground floor. As far as she knew, Luz was the only one that knew about Amity’s secret hideout place behind the romance section. So she’d headed to the right side of the library alone, prepared to look. She couldn’t betray Amity’s trust again by revealing her hideout.

She turned a corner. Mrs Blight’s hair, at the end of the aisle, wasn’t easy to miss.

Luz froze. Mrs Blight. Mr Blight, too. Speaking to the librarian.

Her breath caught in the back of her throat, and she jumps her way over to the next aisle across, immediately slamming her back up against it. Mrs Blight’s voice carried like a plague across the tops of the aisles, indistinguishable but still unpleasant enough to send a shiver up Luz’s spine.

She needed to hide. She needed to find Amity.

Careful to keep her steps quiet, Luz made her way to the romance section in the back of the library, pulling on a book in the same way she’d seen Amity do too many times to count. The doorway slid open; Luz shuffled inside, desperate to get it to close again.

Amity’s hideout was always a shock in comparison to the bright library; it was dim, and her eyes took a while to adjust. She let herself breathe, forehead touching the wood of the door in relief.

“Luz?” A voice asked from behind her. It was quiet; muted in the same way the room is dim. “What are you doing here?”

“Amity?” Luz asked, turning slowly. Amity was standing over a beanbag she’d obviously just picked herself off of, a thick book in her hands, held half-up as if she were brandishing it like a weapon.

“What are you doing here?” Amity repeated, lowering the book to her side.

“Shush,” Luz said, walking away from the door and towards her. Amity flinched, and Luz abruptly stopped her movements. “Your parents are outside.”

Amity’s eyes widened. “They are? Why?”

“I don’t know,” Luz began. She took another tentative step. “I came in here to hide from them. I didn’t think you were going to be in here.”

“Why not?” Amity shrugs. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Luz’s worry ebbed for a moment, replaced with a guilt that had been bubbling at her throat for the past 24 hours. “Amity,” she said softly, because she didn’t know what else to say – she’s already messed things up enough.

Amity shut her eyes, turning her head away from Luz. Luz wanted to reach out, and touch her. To see if she’s real. To touch her.

“We have to go,” Luz said instead, pulling herself away from Amity before she can act on that and ruin what little they have left. “Is there an exit?”

Amity cast a magic circle, and a hole appeared in the wall. “There is now,” she said. “Where are we gonna go?”

“Home,” Luz said, before pausing. “The Owl House,” she amended.

Amity didn’t respond. Instead, she stepped out of the library, picking up a backpack Luz hadn’t even seen on the way out.

Luz followed. She always would.

* * *

“Amity,” were Eda’s first words as she saw the two of them approaching, running over to give Amity one of those bone-crushing hugs Luz was so used to. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No,” Amity said, muffled in Eda’s shoulder.

Eda hugged tighter, and Luz watched as any breath Amity had left in her was forced out. She’d texted Gus and Willow about how she’d found Amity, and they’d escaped the Blight parents. Gus was all for it, but Willow had asked how she got Amity to agree to come back, when she’d ran away of her own free will.

Luz didn’t respond to that, because she hadn’t convinced Amity. It was the danger of her parents, versus the uncomfortable relationship with her – and Amity had made her choice.

They’d congregated in the living room, and for a while, things were quiet. King had situated himself in Amity’s lap, apparently content to be quiet if he was at least offering some form of comfort. Luz breathed in time with the walls – deep inhale, hold, quiet, elongated exhale. It gave her something to focus on other than the itching energy in her legs, from where she was seated on her knees.

The quiet wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, either. Eda and Amity both seemed to be… processing.

Another thing they could relate to, that Luz wasn’t a part of. It was a good thing Amity was back.

Eda broke the quiet, leaning over the sofa to pull Amity into their tenth hug of the day. King shuffled, squished between them, but remained in the middle. Amity took it, one arm wrapping tentatively around Eda’s hair.

“Sorry,” Eda said. “I was just so worried, kid.”

Amity’s next breath was audibly shaky. The hand in Eda’s hair tightened.

Luz itched to join the hug. But there was really only space for two on that sofa.

“Why did you leave?” Eda asked, pulling back to look at Amity, whose eyes fall to the quilt she immediately reclaimed when sitting down.

“I thought…” Amity fidgeted with the blanket softly. “I thought I outstayed my welcome.”

Luz shook her head violently. “You could never,” she said, probably louder than she should.

“She’s right,” Eda reached out to ruffle Amity’s already messier than normal hair. “You’re always welcome here. Never think you can outstay us.”

King sunk into Amity’s stomach. “We love you,” he said, and it brings a smile to Amity’s face.

“I… thank you,” she said shakily. And then she began to cry.

* * *

Eda promised they didn’t have to talk about it if Amity didn’t want to, so Luz remained silent as they headed upstairs. She’d been quiet for a while, and the itch to do something – anything – had built up into threaded heat through her back and up her shoulders, a restlessness impossible to push down. She did her best to quell it, though, biting her lip almost painfully to prevent an outburst of words she didn’t want Amity to hear.

They got ready to sleep together, and it reminded Luz a little of the first night Amity had come to the Owl House. Like then, Luz turned to look at Amity – watching, as she brushed her teeth.

And then it was all too much, and a tear slipped down Luz’s cheek.

Amity blinked at her through the mirror, spitting out her toothpaste and turning to Luz. “Woah, Luz,” she started, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Another tear fell. Luz rubbed at her cheeks furiously, turning away from Amity with an awkward laugh. “Yeah, sorry,” she said, sniffling. “I’m sorry.”

“Luz,” Amity said again, softer. A hand landed between Luz’s shoulder blades tentatively.

“Sorry,” Luz said again. “I’m just… I’m really glad you’re back, is all. Please don’t leave again.”

“You are?” Amity asked. The hand withdrew, and Luz couldn’t help but miss its presence.

“Of course I am,” she said, turning around. “I missed you. I was worried about you. It’s all… ugh. Sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Amity said.

“No – you shouldn’t be,” Luz shook her head. “It’s my fault, anyway.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Luz turned off the tap, turning to head into their bedroom. “You’re probably tired, right? We should get some sleep.”

Luz tucked herself in, head hitting the pillow facing away from the bathroom door. She couldn’t see what Amity was doing anymore. She shouldn’t care, anyway. She should shut her eyes and go to bed; save herself the embarrassment.

Amity padded over to her own bed, slipping underneath the sheets. “Hey,” she whispered, because Luz’s eyes were closed. “Luz.”

Luz opened her eyes, and was greeted with the brilliant amber of Amity’s, across from her. “Yeah?” Luz asked.

“I am sorry,” Amity whispered. “For making you worry. But I won’t leave again. I just thought…”

She trailed off, and the silence was filled with Eda’s shuffling from the floor above them. Luz’s gut twisted.

“Nothing,” Amity said. “Night, Luz.”

“Goodnight, Amity.”

More silence. And then, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chapter 16: imposter syndrome

Chapter Text

Since Luz had awoken that morning, a pit had formed in her gut. It had started, of course, with Amity not being in her bed when Luz woke up (and, even though the rational side of her brain reminded her that Amity was never there when Luz woke up, and her bag was sitting off to the side, her brain kept on repeating panic panic panic until she’d reached the bottom of the stairs and caught sight of the green-haired witch herself.)

It was a Tuesday; there was nothing particularly remarkable about the weather, nor was there anything of note in Luz’s school schedule. But, even after entering Amity’s presence, the pit in her stomach seemed to flare up, growing roots that dug painfully between her intestines, grounding themselves. She’d forced a smile, made a joke – Eda had been reading a book, and Amity was huddled in the quilt that had once been Luz’s and Eda’s. She received smiles back, which was expected. Luz had always been good at cheering up others.

They’d all sat down for breakfast, and King had set about his daily chatter as if everything was normal. It was normal, Luz supposed – the new normal, that was. Amity was back, and she wasn’t an intruder, but Luz felt her presence in every aspect of her life, now. The pit in her gut was beginning to sprout.

Eda had studied all the occupants of the table over the meal, and once she was finished, promptly announced, “I think we all need a day off. I have a long list of chores that need completing, and you two can always catch up on school later.”

Luz couldn’t help but note how Eda’s eyes had been fixated on Amity as she’d said that.

Once met with no protests, Eda clapped her hands together, casting a spell to take the now mostly-empty plates to the kitchen sink. “Alright,” she continued, getting up. “I think I’ve got my list in paper somewhere… give me a minute whilst I go and grab it.”

She walked out the room, and after a moment, King waddled after her, arms outstretched as if she’d come back and pick him up (which – knowing Eda, she probably would.) Silence overtook the room, now occupied by just her and Amity. Luz looked down to the now empty spot of the dining table in front of her, and found her fingers digging into the wood of the chair at her sides, picking at splinters.

“How’d you sleep?” She asked, although her voice came out horribly croaky and she had to clear it halfway through.

“Well,” Amity responded, quiet. “You?”

“I slept good.” Luz pried a small piece of wood from the chair, allowing her fingers to meet under the table and fiddle with it. “I, uh… I’m really glad you’re back.”

Amity nodded, but it seemed she had nothing to say. Fear gripped Luz; she had to fill the silence.

“Oh man, I hope Eda doesn’t expect us to clean all day!” Luz chuckled forcedly. The pit in her stomach had grown up to her lungs, now, vines tightening until she noted their presence with slightly more restricted breaths. “I mean, I’m glad we get a day off school, I guess, but some places in this house haven’t been cleaned since Eda built the place.”

“Eda built this?” Amity asked.

“Well, yeah,” said Luz. “That’s why it looks so dumb. She started out with a plan, cast a spell, and then realized she didn’t have enough space to do what she wants. That’s why we’ve got the long tower to the side, and the shed at the back.”

Amity nodded. “People I know never built their own houses – usually we’d pay a team of other witches to do it for us.”

“That must be cool,” Luz tried not to perk up visibly; they were making conversation now. “I mean, all the designing stuff. If I tried to build a house, it’d be all mismatched tile and wonky floors.”

“Yeah,” said Amity, cracking a small smile. “I suppose it is.”

“Alright,” Eda entered, brandishing a long sheet of paper that looked more like a receipt than a to-do list. “This ought to keep you kids busy. I’ve got a couple potion commissions to do, but I’ll join up about lunch, and we’ll work through the afternoon. Sound good?”

She held the list out, and after Amity didn’t reach out, Luz took it. Scanning over the words brought an instinctive frown to her face. “What do you mean, ‘call the Bat Queen and ask how her babies are doing’?”

“Oh,” Eda took the list back, scribbling something over. “That’s just for me. Ignore that one.”

“You know the Bat Queen?” Amity asked.

“Yeah, kid!” Eda laughed, handing the list back – to Amity, Luz noted. That was fine. The vines tightened around her lungs. “Her and I go way back. I’m her go-to babysitter, you see.”

“Wow,” Amity said, looking down to skim the list. “Okay; so you want us to start now?”

“Start whenever you’re ready – but no slacking off.” Eda rolled her shoulders, shooting the two a large grin. “I should get out of your heads.”

“Out of your hair,” Luz corrected instinctively. “It’s like you try to mess them up.”

“Well at least I’m trying, kiddo,” Eda leant over to ruffle Luz’s hair, before straightening up. “Out of your hair, then. Good luck!”

Both teenagers watched Eda leave, before turning back towards one another. “What’s first?” Luz asked.

Amity looked down at the list, and grimaced.

* * *

“It stinks in here,” Luz groaned, holding her shirt up to her nose as if it would quell the stench. “I said Eda hadn’t cleaned as a joke, but I kind of believe it.”

“It’s not that bad,” Amity said, although she mimicked Luz, pulling her shirt up to cover her mouth. “Just dusty.”

“And it smells like rotten fish.”

“Well then let’s just get what we came for, and leave.”

“Right.” Luz scanned the room. “It’s called a grice, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you even use it for?”

Amity shrugged. “A lot of stuff – usually to strengthen a movement spell.”

Stepping into the carpet of dust that seemed to coat the entire room, Luz grimaced. After she’d moved into the Owl House, she’d done her fair share of exploration – but since then, half of the rooms had been completely irrelevant to her magic-learning journey. Eda had always warned against going up into the tower – for what, Luz didn’t know – but the rest of the rooms were free game… if anybody actually wanted to clean them up.

“Can it strengthen a spell to clean this room?” Luz wondered aloud. “Maybe we should add that to the list.”

Amity coughed into the top that was covering her mouth. “Just look,” she said.

The list, after a much closer inspection, was filled with what seemed like hundreds of menial, small tasks that Eda apparently didn’t have time to complete (after taking in two unexpected teenagers, Luz supposed she understood – but she was still allowed to complain.) They’d skimmed the list a few times, highlighting the chores that sounded the easiest, and then set about trying to cross those off the list.

(Luz had been insistent that they do the chores together, despite an obvious rise in productivity if they’d split up. “We can get stuff done quicker if we work together!” She’d argued. “Besides, one of us would have to keep going back to the other to see the next task. It’d just be impractical.”

She didn’t mention in her argument that every time Amity was out of her sight, the pit in her stomach grew thicker vines that reached up to her throat, snaking down her windpipe and choking her. That was an issue for Luz’s eyes only.)

Luz paused her shifting through items to turn and look at Amity. Whenever she looked over, the feelings of dread eased a little, if only for a short period of time. Sometimes it was a conscious movement, to look – the feelings built up even when Luz was in the same room as Amity, and could hear her shuffling about. Other times, she’d catch herself after a second or two, and go back to whatever she was doing, attempting to not think about how checking Amity was there had now become a habit. Every now and again, Amity would look up, and catch Luz’s gaze. That always sent a burst of heat to Luz’s face, and an even larger burst of energy that caused her to jerk back into the motion of whatever she was doing before she was caught staring.

Even so, neither party mentioned the gazes, if they were noticed at all.

“Luz?” Amity asked, lifting something. “I think I found it.”

“Great!” Luz said, standing up and wiping her now-grey hands on the side of her trousers. “We should get out of here before our lungs become 100% dust, anyway.”

* * *

They paused for lunch upon Eda’s return, and Luz found herself becoming quiet. She knew that wasn’t normal for her – knew to the point where it caused bile to rise at the back of her throat, that it’s likely the people around her noticed her being strange and might ask about it. Usually, she was a walking ball of energy (which wasn’t her fault, not really – it’s just a trait she’s always hated about herself. Because she’s always been told that she’s too much of this, or too much of that; too loud, too enthusiastic, too emotional. Now she’s become too invested in Amity’s business. Too attached.)

Once again, Eda’s cooking had somehow gone wrong, and so they sat with the previous day’s leftover food, in the living room rather than at a table. There were benefits to this, of course: Luz wasn’t looking directly at Amity when they were scattered casually around a room, so any thoughts that Amity prompted within her could be slightly silenced. (It was worth mentioning, however, that Amity had chosen to sit beside Luz; close enough that she could feel the ghost heat of Amity’s arm on her own. That didn’t do wonders for banishing those thoughts, either.) Another plus – although the atmosphere would definitely benefit from some chatter, it wasn't required, so maybe Luz could get away with the silence.

She'd caught Eda’s gaze on her twice, golden eyes peering over rectangular-framed glasses. And she thought about it – because, how could she not? Except Eda never spoke. Just held the eye contact for several seconds from her position on the couch, the slightest of questions in her gaze, before looking back down to her food.

The negatives, on the other hand, were that Luz was left to her own devices. Her own mind. And inside Luz’s head, there was a constant scatter of thoughts. A myriad, really – if such a beautiful word could be put to the fragmented chaos that she always found her mind to be. And within that maze, decipherable but messy, it was impossible to truly silence a thought. To distract yourself.

So… she thought about Amity.

There was a lot to think surrounding the topic of Amity, as it turned out, because where Luz’s mind would usually find threads of distraction, it always managed to focus back in. She didn’t think about the pit in her gut – but then her brain snagged on the thought of the delicate slope of Amity’s shoulders, and her smile when she shows it was so – so –

And, spirits she shouldn’t even think about it, but Amity always looked good – especially today, when her hair had grown out enough to be tied casually at the base of her neck. And her hands were inches away from Luz’s, and Luz ached to take one in her own, feel the smooth skin, the warmth. Trace the lines of Amity’s palm with her fingers and discover callouses, and scars.

She didn’t think about that, though. It was difficult to become desensitized to thoughts, but those ones in particular always end up overwhelmed by the dread. If thoughts of Amity's beauty were like the crashing of waves – sudden and overwhelming – then the dread Luz felt crept up on her like a tide. It always began somewhere (today, it began this morning. Luz had long-accepted that when she felt this kind of not-fully-but-pretty-close-to-terrible, there’s usually no reason but her own head being stupid.) But it grew, until the water was at her knees, and her feet had become buried in sand, and pebbles, and vine-like seaweed.

Sometimes it was just a general feeling of dread – and that was alright to manage. That was the stuff she was used to side-lining. But sometimes it grew – like it had this morning. It became this ugly monster of an emotion Luz couldn’t identify (and didn’t want to, anyway – not if it was inside of her.) And it whispered things like, ‘Amity ruins everything. You were happy before Amity showed up. Amity is replacing you.’

Understandably, Luz wanted to shut it up.

(Except, she didn’t know how – the frighteningly contrasting thoughts of relief whenever she set her eyes upon Amity, that she was safe, seemed to do the job momentarily… but when that voice came, it didn’t leave.)

Once, she’d tried to hear it out. Luz knew it was an over-exaggerated manifestation of all her fears – so she’d reasoned with herself that maybe, by exhausting the list, she’d be able to shut them down one by one and set the voice to sleep once and for all. Except, Luz had never been a very methodological person, and soon the voice had overtaken her until she was sobbing alone in the bathroom, a hand over her mouth to attempt to keep the gasps for air in. Never again, she'd concluded.

The next morning, when she came down with what she thought were puffy eyes and trembling lips, nobody had noticed. Sure, she’d tried to hide it – but maybe if somebody asked, the relief of telling anybody could have stopped it. Instead, the voice started whispering into her ear again. ‘Amity’s replacing you. Eda prefers Amity to you. Eda didn’t notice you because she doesn’t care.’

Being in the human world made it a little better, at least for a while – she didn’t have that constant reminder that Eda probably preferred Amity to her (not reminder, she had to say to herself. Intrusive thought.) Instead, it was easy to get lost in the feelings of her crush (which had its repercussions, too, but... less.) But there was always some form of fear that her mom would start preferring Amity, too. Even though she could reason with herself that it was ridiculous to even think that, the voice never went away.

So… it was a cycle. Relief at Amity’s safety, all fluttery hearts and stuttered breaths – and then, at the slightest change, withdrawal. Sickness climbing the back of her throat. A pit, in her stomach, cutting off her heart.

Luz looked down. Her plate was empty; she’d been skating her cutlery across the bare surface for the past ten minutes.

“Okay, kiddos,” Eda said. “I think it’s time to get back to work. I need one of you to help me carry the potions to the delivery magic box – the other can stay here and get working on those chores. Any volunteers?”

Luz looked to Amity, who met her eyes. Looking at her like this, it was so easy to see why Eda would prefer Amity to her. Amity had the same milky-white skin, and the same golden eyes as Eda – the perfect protégé. And Amity was beautiful, and talented, and not emotionally constipated and human and stupid like Luz was.

“I don’t mind,” Amity said quietly. “You want to go?”

Luz did want to go. She missed spending time with just her and Eda. “I don’t care either,” she said instead.

They both turned to Eda. “Alright,” Eda sighed. “Amity. Up. Luz, try not to slack off while we’re gone. I’ll see you in an hour.”

“Right,” Luz dredged up a smile. A spike of bitterness hit the back of her tongue. “I’ll see you later, then.”

Eda nodded, and Amity stood, and then the front door slammed, and they were gone.

* * *

After Eda and Amity returned, Luz went out of her way to make sure she continued to work by herself. She deserved to sit in these sh*tty feelings, anyway – it was a form of repayment for all the times she’d unconsciously wished Amity had gone to somebody else’s house after she fled the Blight Manor, so Luz could continue living in her own selfish bliss.

Night had fallen slowly, and Luz was surprised to see no rain. It usually showed up in times like these – times where bad things happened. Then again, things never seemed to go the way she wanted them too, anyway.

Luz wasn’t hungry when dinner came, so she sat and pushed the square pieces of vegetable around on her plate, placing one in her mouth and chewing it when somebody looked for too long, despite it tasting like wet cardboard.

She’d been making to go up to her room straight after dinner – that was what her and Amity usually did, to do school work or relax or get things ready for the next day, when Eda called out for her to stop.

Amity continued making her way up the stairs – somehow understanding that Eda wanted to speak to Luz alone. Luz turned to face Eda, hands instinctively meeting behind her back to fidget. “What’s up?” She asked, eyes darting around the room several times before landing on Eda’s.

Eda took a few steps forwards until they were both in the living room. “I just wanted to talk to you, kid,” she said with a soft smile. “You weren’t hungry today?”

Luz shrugged. “I ate a lot at lunch.”

“Right…” Eda said. “And you’re all good… with everything else?”

“Yup,” Luz chirped. Discomfort was beginning to spread up her arms, but if she started to twitch visibly, Eda would know something was up. “Everything’s great.”

“Okay,” Eda said. “You… you know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

“Of course,” Luz said. “Definitely. Got it.”

Eda seemed sceptical, but still said, “good. Well then… that was all I wanted to ask.”

“Alright!” Luz dropped her hands to her sides, turning to head to her room. “Bye, Eda!”

“Bye,” Eda responded.

Luz ran up the stairs, and once she reached the top, her legs ached slightly. Amity was sat on her bed, working on a piece of homework.

There was a storm inside Luz. Like, and dislike. Crush, and jealousy. Imposter syndrome.

Amity looked up. “Oh, hey.” She smiled. “What did Eda want to talk about?”

“Nothing,” Luz said, shutting the bedroom door behind her. “Just school stuff. What are you working on?”

Chapter 17: visits in the morning

Chapter Text

Breakfast the next morning was an awkward affair. The air between Luz and Eda probably wasn’t palpably awkward to anybody but Luz herself – except, since it was Luz that was noticing it (noticing every time she changed the subject, or avoided eye contact, and every time Eda just… rolled with it, and didn’t seem to care), it began to build up in her chest. But Eda wasn’t present in every moment of Luz’s life; when she wasn’t there, Luz could forget – could push those feelings back until they reared their ugly head again later.

Amity was… different. They’d been getting along (and Luz hesitated to use those exact words, because they sounded kind of childish and Amity deserved better than that, but also because it had been days since Amity’s return, and Luz still had a lot of relationship-mending-and-apologising to do.) Her chest still tightened with phantom pains of losing Amity again, or of Amity in danger, or of Amity’s rejection, except today it had eased a little. Eased, with every steady inhale Luz watched Amity take. Eased, until the vines could pry themselves off her lungs and settle back into her stomach, dormant.

Sometimes, Luz watched Amity sleep. It was weird – she knew it was weird. No matter what way she’d attempted to spin it, that sort of behaviour was creepy and strange and… so unlike her. But it eased the sh*t in her stomach when it got bad again; Luz could regulate her breaths to the steady beat of Amity’s own, steady with sleep, and find herself coming back to herself, calm. It was just a way to know that Amity was alright.

It was obsessive. It wasn’t healthy. It was… she didn’t know how to deal with it.

The morning had come quickly – by the time Luz had fallen asleep, she’d barely managed a blink before the sun was rising and Hooty was… well, hooting at her window, asking her to come down (so Eda and King didn’t want to come and wake her up themselves anymore, then. That was fine.) Breakfast was on the table by the time she’d brushed her teeth and dressed and come down the stairs – they’d started without her.

Fine. Whatever. She sat, and stayed quiet.

King was all too happy to fill the lull in conversation, addressing each member of the Owl House separately with stupid puns that Luz used to crack up at, and information about himself, given freely and openly. Had Luz been like that? Taking up every conversation with chatter about herself?

She played with the food on her plate, pushing lumps of what looked like green jelly around with her fork until they formed shapes. Whenever King said something to her specifically, she made sure to plaster on a smile, taking a big bite halfway through and shrugging apologetically when she couldn’t form an answer around the food.

Amity was looking at her. Luz didn’t look back.

She thought, silently, about what she’d have said if she didn’t feel like she didn’t have a place here. Maybe talk about the weather (Spring; meant to be rainy season, and yet they hadn’t had any in a while – good sign, right?) or maybe about how she was doing in school (which she hadn’t been to since last Friday – maybe that one was a dud.) Either way, her thoughts often found themselves diverting to what she wanted to say – to Eda, primarily. What she wanted to ask.

If Luz spoke, she might let out a tsunami of emotions that wasn’t ready to be shared with the world, yet. Or, maybe, she wouldn’t be able to say it at all. If she didn’t talk for long enough, perhaps her lips would become paralysed; frozen in place, unable to form sound. She’d be quiet forever, then.

“Luz,” Eda called from her seat. “You’re not hungry?”

Luz blinked, looking up at Eda for a second, before back down at her food. She’d arranged it into an imperfect circle. Fitting. “Sorry,” she said, stabbing her fork through a particularly large piece, and lifting it to her lips. Biting into it twisted her stomach, slightly. “I am.”

Eda’s lips pursed. “You know,” she said, “I have a couple things I need to do today – a delivery run, as well as some errands. Maybe you could come with?”

“I’ve got school,” Luz responded, taking another mouthful.

“Yeah,” Eda smiled awkwardly, “but after? Maybe?”

Luz shrugged. “Is Amity coming?” She asked, malice she didn’t mean to add slipping into the dredges of her voice. Amity, who perked up at Luz’s mention of her name, didn’t seem to notice it; but resentment curled in her chest, aimed at herself. She’d let it show, again.

“She could,” Eda said hesitantly, “but I was thinking it could be more of a me-and-you thing, you know? Just like old times.”

“Just like old times,” Luz echoed. She felt like laughing.

But Eda didn’t notice Luz’s emotions, instead taking the mirroring as a positive. “So you’ll come?” She asked, grin growing owlishly.

Luz fretted for a moment, brain firing through ways to say, politely, that she didn’t want to go out with somebody who consistently forgot she was there in favour of her more talented replacement, Amity. “I…” she started, pushing her food around again.

The doorbell rang. Luz jumped, then jumped up. “I got it,” she called, walking hastily to the door and opening it without thinking. Anything to get away from that conversation.

The door swung open, and for once Hooty didn’t provide commentary on whoever was standing outside. Luz supposed she was in the same boat – she hadn’t been expecting them… so she had no words.

“Emira?” Luz asked, head tilting to the side. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Luz,” Emira said. She’d grown a little – an inch or too, maybe, and now her hair was shorter, and down rather than in its signature plait. Age had treated her well – baby fat had dropped off her cheeks and emphasized the jawline she was already sporting at sixteen. And her skin was glowing. “I’m looking for mittens.”

Several thoughts bombarded Luz at once. She’d forgotten Amity’s nickname was mittens – Emira was there looking for Amity – Amity probably didn’t want to be seen – was Emira dangerous? – ha, mittens. “She’s not here,” Luz said as casually as she could manage, resting an arm on the doorway and ignoring how that had definitely been Hooty’s mouth at one point.

“Yeah?” Emira’s resulting smile was small. “I can see her right behind you.”

Luz whipped around – Amity wasn’t there. “No, you can’t,” she chuckled nervously, turning back to face Emira. “Because she isn’t here. Obviously.”

Emira sighed. “Look,” she began, “If Amity doesn’t want to see me, fine. But I know she’s here, and I just want to talk – I’m not gonna rat her out to our sh*tty parents, if that’s what she’s worrying about.”

“That’s… not my permission to give,” Luz shrugged. “You’re right – she’s here. But it’s her decision whether to talk to you, so.”

With a nod, Emira crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay,” she said. “You’re right. Can you tell her I came by, at least? I’d like to come again – I meant it when I said I wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, sure,” Luz said. “Uh – bye, Emira.”

“Wait,” came Amity’s voice from behind Luz. “Hey, Em.”

“Amity,” Emira said in ways of greeting, giving a half-nod Luz had only ever seen in old movies. “How you doing?”

Amity wrapped her arms around herself. “Fine,” she said cautiously, taking a few steps towards the doorway, but still keeping the distance. “What do you want?”

Emira’s eyes flicked to Luz, still in the doorway, awkwardly hovering in the centre of their interaction, before moving over to King and Eda. “Is there anywhere we can go to talk?”

“They can hear whatever you have to say,” Amity said, taking another step closer. Something in Luz’s chest lit up at the apparent display of trust.

Emira gave an almost exasperated sigh. “You won’t want them hearing, though. If you want to, tell them afterwards. I’m not speaking to a crowd.”

Her eyes landed on Luz. “No offense,” she added as an afterthought.

Luz was shaking her head as Eda made her way towards the doorway, deciding it was time to take over the discussion (Luz would hardly call Eda a functioning adult, but in moments like these, she really showed her ability.) “Okay,” she began, “Amity and Emira into the living room. We’ll shut the door, but if Amity calls for us, I won’t hesitate before casting a hex.”

“Hex?” Emira asked. “That’s harsh.”

“Yeah, well,” Eda shrugged, letting the threat hang fresh in the air. “Get in, then. The sooner this is all over the better.”

Luz turned back, but Amity had already made her way into the living room, and she felt Emira brush against her shoulder slightly as she moved to follow. Then the door was closed, and they were alone.

“I hate this,” Luz said, voicing her first honest thought of the morning.

“Me, too,” King said. “Let’s eavesdrop.”

Eda, who’d been on the way out to the shed, raised an eyebrow. “Don’t do that,” she said half-heartedly. “That’s a private conversation.”

“You said you were going to cast a hex.”

“King’s taught you hexes, Luz. Do it yourself.”

Eda went through the doorway, disappearing from sight, and Luz and King exchanged a glance before pressing their ears up against the living room door.

Emira’s voice filtered in… “so then we came back down the mountain, and my scroll got signal, and I had, like, forty writings from mom and dad. So I took the week off to come home.”

“How’d you know I was here, though?”

“I went to Willow’s, first,” Emira admitted. “It’s funny that I remember where she lives. Anyway, then I was walking myself through your limited friends list… and who else but Luz? The girl you had a-“

“Stop,” Amity said harshly, and surprisingly enough, Emira obeyed. “Why are you really here?”

Emira’s voice dipped in volume as she answered, and Luz felt frustration rising in her chest when the words become inaudible. “Damn,” she whispered to King. “Is there a spell for this?”

“Not one I can cast,” he whispered back with decidedly less subtlety. “You want me to crawl through the floorboards?”

Luz considered it for a moment, before shaking her head. “Just be prepared to charge in and attack Emira,” she said finally. “Just in case.”

King nodded solemnly, and Luz adjusted her angle against the door, pressing harder as if it would let more sound filter through. Infuriation filled her as she heard voices; Emira’s, mostly, with several interjections and comments from Amity – but couldn’t make out complete sentences. “This sucks,” she whispered again.

The door to the shed opened again, and out stepped Eda. King immediately greeted her with a sheepish look, but Luz remained somewhat pressed to the door. She was so close to hearing what they were saying. Just a little closer…

A chop to the crown of her head stopped those thoughts, and Luz fell back onto her butt, looking up at Eda in disbelief. “Did you just hit me?”

“Oh, please,” Eda drawled, “it was barely a tap. Stop eavesdropping.”

Luz’s arms crossed over her chest. “I just want to hear to know if Amity’s okay.”

“Amity will call out if she isn’t,” Eda said, busying herself in the kitchen with clearing their half-eaten meal off of the table, wrapping each plate up for later use. “She trusts us enough to ask for our help with this.”

Rolling the words over in her mind, Luz could acknowledge Eda was right. “Fine,” she said, getting up. “I guess we’re missing another day of school, then?”

“I guess so,” Eda said back. “I’ve always hated the education system anyway. You’d do better being home-schooled by me.”

“And me!” King interjected triumphantly. “We’d be unstoppable, Luz. I could make you the best witch in history!”

“Slow down there,” Eda said. “We don’t want another Goubaba on our hands now, do we?”

“Goubaba fought for what she believed in!” King defended.

But Eda just hummed. “Hey; you think I should leave some food out for Amity and her big sis when they’re done talking?”

Luz and King exchanged a glance, and a grimace. “Nah,” Luz said, looking back up to her mentor. “They won’t be that hungry.”

Eda frowns. “This wasn’t good?” She asked, looking back down at the jelly slices. “Alright, whatever. We all know I’m not the best cook.”

She shoved the half-empty pot to the part of the countertop that was encased in a freezing spell, turning back to King and Luz with her hands crossed over her chest. “Seriously, though,” she said. “Amity will tell us the parts she wants to tell us about when she’s finished. Give her some privacy.”

Luz wanted to groan, but she also knew Eda was right. So… they waited.

* * *

Emira leaves quicker than Luz can blink and say, ‘Hecate.’ One moment Luz is heating water with a spell she’d learnt a couple years ago but hadn’t practiced in a while, with plans of trying to make herself a hot chocolate, and the next Emira had opened the living room door, muttered a “Bye,” to all residents of the kitchen, and exited through the front door.

Luz abandoned the chocolate powder and the pot of hot water, entering the living room immediately. “Amity?” She asked softly when she entered, not wanting to intrude if she didn’t want her there, but also wanting to wrap her up in a comforting hug. “How are you doing?”

Amity’s eyes lifted to Luz’s. “I’m okay,” she said honestly.

Taking several steps inwards, Luz took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, still warm from Emira’s presence. “Yeah?” She asked.

Amity nodded. Then her face crumpled slightly, eyes welling up with tears, a few falling down her cheeks.

She buried her face in her hands, bent over her lap, chest shaking softly as tears continued coming, and Luz found herself at a loss. “Woah,” Luz said, scooting closer and placing a comforting hand on Amity’s back, rubbing softly. “It’s alright, it’s okay.”

Amity sniffled particularly loudly, and straightened up, only to wrap her arms fully around Luz, burying her face into Luz’s shoulder. Hesitantly, Luz wrapped her arms around Amity, too, continuing to rub soothingly. She continued to mutter softly to Amity. The least she could do was be there, after all.

After a few minutes, the shaking subsided, and it was Amity that pulled away first, wiping at her cheeks. “Sorry,” she said tearily and in a half-laugh. Luz handed her a tissue, and she blew her nose loudly.

“You want to talk about it?” Luz asked.

“I…” Amity shrugged, clutching the tissue in white-knuckled hands. “I think I’m just overwhelmed? Not sad – well, sad of course, but…”

She blew her nose again. Luz tried to nod understandingly.

“She just… I thought the twins hated me,” Amity admitted. “But she doesn’t; she said she cares, and they were just in a bad situation with our mom and dad, so.”

“I can see why that would be overwhelming,” Luz commented softly. She wished she’d read another couple articles on how to deal with someone when they’re crying. She felt so horribly, awkwardly unequipped to comfort Amity right now.

Amity wiped under one eye that had turned red with the tears, bloodshot and yet still beautifully bright. “Um, she was explaining her situation,” Amity recounted. “She took a break from her trek after our parents messaged her loads about my disappearance – she got back last night, she said, and then this was the first thing she wanted to do this morning.”

“Visit you?” Luz asked, and Amity nodded. “So… is she staying at the Blight Manor?”

“No, they hate her,” Amity said. “Well… it isn’t hate; not exactly, at least. She’s an heiress and all – but they let her and Ed do whatever. They’ve kind of given up on those two.”

“And that left you?”

“Yeah,” Amity said. “They liked to remind me, in front of the twins, that I’d be the one inheriting everything Blight. It was like they wanted us to hate each other.”

Luz nodded. Amity wiped at her other eye, before standing up to get rid of the tissue in her hands. When she came back, a moment later, she took a second to breathe deeply. “I’m just… I already told you about how Ed was kind of the reason they found me, right?” She asked. Luz nodded. “Well, I know it wasn’t his fault, but I can’t help thinking that maybe they’ll find me through Emira this time and I’ll have to go back, which is sh*tty, but- it’s just-“

“No, no,” Luz hurried to comfort as Amity began to cry again. “Of course you’d feel that way. There’s nothing wrong with being scared, Amity.”

And then Luz was wrapping her arms around Amity again, and Amity was taking the chance to curl up against Luz’s chest and let the tears, less intense but still there, out. This time, Luz was silent, stroking softly at Amity’s hair and placing a kiss to the crown of her head, like her own mom used to do to her, every so often.

Amity’s tears subsided, and then it was just the two of them, Luz stroking Amity’s hair, breaths even and in perfect time with each other. Amity leant back slightly so she could look up at Luz, and the gap was so close that Luz felt ghosts of Amity’s exhales over her lips.

Luz looked at Amity’s lips. Even whilst crying, Amity was beautiful. It wasn’t fair. It shot a dagger of want and love and a thousand other emotions she couldn’t yet identify straight through her heart.

In that moment, Luz ached to kiss Amity. Everything in her zoned in on that one moment; that one thought.

She could do it, too; they were surely close enough, and a push forwards would land their lips perfectly together. But Luz was sure she looked like a mess – she’d ran her hands through her hair a thousand times when Emira had been keeping Amity from her, and the curls had definitely turned into a ball of frizz that stood tall and hectic.

Amity didn’t seem to care. Maybe she was imagining it, but Amity’s gaze dropped to her lips, too.

No – she needed to stop. Amity had just been crying, and Luz couldn’t take advantage of her vulnerability to pursue her own, selfish desires. She pulled back, a harsh pinch of guilt sitting in her stomach as she jostled Amity off of her in order to stand up.

“I should go,” she said, eyes finding the floor. She felt the house moving – breaths slow, watching. “I’m – glad you’re okay.”

She didn’t look to see Amity’s reaction; only darted from the room and up the stairs, not looking back.

Chapter 18: problem-solving

Chapter Text

Hooty had taken them to school that morning, and Luz had reunited with Willow and Gus (reunited was, perhaps, a little over the top; it had only been a few days since they’d last seen each other, but it had felt like a lifetime – first they’d found Amity, then the Owl House had been radio silent for two days, until Emira showed up at Willow’s door before heading to the Owl House, too.) It was, as it always was, free of awkwardness; a small mercy. Luz felt the tightness in her chest ease a little, as she looked upon her two friends.

Amity, who had been loitering slightly behind Luz, was swept up into their group hug by Willow, too – and Luz found herself with an arm around Amity’s shoulders and her head tucked into the girl’s neck. Which was… fine. She held her breath, clenched her eyes shut, and prayed she wouldn’t look as flustered as she felt when they pulled back.

She’d wanted to catch Willow and Gus up on everything that happened – and possibly rant about the crush situation – but Amity joined their friendship group for the day, all awkward stances and half-baked smiles that were so endearing they made Luz’s heart skip a beat and her face go all mushy. So… no crush talk, Luz had concluded, as Amity followed them to lunch, sitting in the usually empty seat besides Luz and opposite Gus. That was fine. Probably better off, anyway.

She’d like to bring it up with her friends at some point, though. Luz respected Willow and Gus’s opinions a lot; they were the two people who’d known she liked girls since almost the start, and they’d never steered her wrong before. Plus, she knew (she mostly knew) they wouldn’t judge her, or shame her, or anything like that – at least not until they’d fully heard her out.

She’d done worse things than have a crush, for spirits’ sake. It was just that this one was more… complicated.

With Amity’s presence came both the constant feeling of being on edge, and the reminder that Luz had ran away from her at her most vulnerable the night before. Amidst the heart palpitations, every time she set her eyes upon Amity, she could picture a look of betrayal, of hurt, as Luz ran away from her. She shouldn’t’ve run.

But she had… and now every time they made eye contact Amity looked away, and every time Amity caught Luz staring when she laughed, she seemed to dim, a little. The interactions were stiff between the two of them, and Luz couldn’t help but to keep retreating into her head, replaying last night’s events over and over.

What had Amity looked like after Luz left? Was she upset? Was she betrayed? Had she even been surprised?

* * *

“Welcome home, kids.”

That was Eda’s usual greeting – but Luz found herself pausing in the doorway of the kitchen and re-assessing the words. It hadn’t been Eda’s voice, but the intonation was nearly the same.

Before she could turn, Amity had muttered a confused, “Emira?”, letting her know what was going on.

Eda and Emira sat at the kitchen table two cups of tea (two teacups, Luz should say; they probably didn’t hold tea) in front of them. Luz was struck with the familiarity of the domestic image; it looked the same way her mother looked when she invited over a friend, and they gossiped with tea in the afternoon, and wine in the evening, about everybody they knew.

What Eda and Emira Blight had to gossip about, Luz could only imagine (and it wasn’t exactly pretty.)

“What are you doing here?” Amity asked, putting her schoolbag down and crossing her arms over her chest. Luz mirrored Amity, observing the situation quietly.

“Just wanted to talk to you, but Eda told me you were at school. So she offered to let me wait.”

Luz’s eyes move over to Eda, who is already looking at her, and they have a moment of eye contact. Luz’s eyebrows pull downwards in confusion, and Eda raises one of her own, as well as the corner of her lips in a signature smirk.

So Eda doesn’t view Emira as a threat, then; just an amusem*nt. Alright.

“How was your day?”

“Good,” Amity said. “Tiring. Can you get to the point?”

Emira chuckled, and it seemed to fill up the room. “I already told you – I want to talk. I was thinking you and I could go on a walk?”

“Not too far,” Eda warned. “Maybe you should sit outside – there’s a bench with a gorgeous view round the back.”

“No walking through the forest?” Emira asked, voice light and teasing.

“We can’t get to you if you go too far,” Eda said, much more serious, and there was a palpable drop in collective mood, before she smiled. “Alright. Off you two go, them. Enjoy yourselves.”

Emira turned to look at Amity, gesturing to leave, but Amity held up one finger. “Okay, then,” she said. “Guess I’ll go first.”

After Emira left, Amity turned to Luz. Eda had already made her way somewhere else in the house, probably sensing the awkwardness between the two of them and deciding they needed to figure it out themselves (that was a thing Eda liked to do – leave people to fix their own problems, and avoid the awkwardness. Luz couldn’t tell if it was because she didn’t like the atmosphere of discomfort, or something else.)

“You should be careful,” Luz said, before Amity could begin whatever speech (and Luz had no doubt it was a speech; Amity was always one for dramatic, planned out monologues) she’d had prepared. “I know she’s your sister, but you’re your own priority, and you should protect yourself first.”

For a moment, Amity looked taken aback, before her face settled. “Alright.”

“Good,” Luz said back.

They settled back into the silence that had been plaguing them all day, and Luz fought the urge to cringe.

“I’m… gonna go talk to Emira, then,” she said, making an awkward gesture with her hands towards the open front door.

She made eye contact with Luz, who immediately felt a certain type of heat climbing up her neck. “Yeah, of course,” she said. “Have fun.”

“Yeah,” Amity said. They held the gaze for a few more painstakingly awkward seconds, and Luz searched for something to say, but came up blank. “Okay.”

Luz watched Amity leave, cursing herself internally. She needed to get a reign over her emotions – fast. This was just embarrassing.

Turning away from the now-closed front door, she entered the living room, still cringing internally at the previous interaction. Eda sat on the couch already, a spell for knitting set up in front of her, three quarters of the way through a bright throw blanket. She had a book in one hand, eyes scanning it, before jumping up every few seconds and using her other hand to conduct the knitting needles in some form of dance. She paused the reading as Luz came in, though, the knitting slowing down to a snail’s pace at the loss of concentration.

“Luz,” she greeted with a smile. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Luz said after a second, loitering in the doorway, heartbeat catching on a snag. “About what?”

The knitting needles picked back up in pace, and Eda gestured for Luz to take a seat besides her. As she moved into the room, a trickle of cold, pallid dread began to pour into her stomach. Once she was seated, Eda put the book onto the floor, letting the knitting drop, too, and placing her entire attention onto Luz.

“What was that back there?” Eda asked. “And don’t tell me it was nothing, because I’ve seen it happening a lot, recently.”

Did Eda mean her conversation with Amity? Sure, it had been happening more often, but Luz wouldn’t say it was a ‘lot’ – she hadn’t even noticed that Eda had noticed in the first place. Still, the cold in her stomach was beginning to solidify. Eda was smart; she’d see right through Luz if she tried to lie, and Luz wasn’t in the mood to be ripped apart for things she already knew were wrong about herself.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Luz said, quiet.

The knitting dropped as Eda crossed her arms over her chest. “Luz,” she said, not-quite-authoritarian but close enough to set Luz on edge.

But Luz stayed quiet. She’d been keeping it a secret before, and she could do so now. Even if she looked up to Eda (which, don’t get her wrong, she still completely did – it was just that now Eda’s relationship with her was beginning to weaken now that Eda had a better apprentice in Amity, and if Luz told her all of the stuff on her mind, she’d just push Eda far away. This was just a preservation tactic, she reasoned with herself. It was so that their relationship could stay.)

(Luz really, really wanted her relationship with Eda to stay.)

“Look,” Eda uncrossed her arms, probably realizing it wasn’t doing her any favours in getting Luz to open up. “I know we joke, me and your mother, but I consider you family, Luz. Whatever’s going on with you, whatever you’re scared of, you don’t have to be afraid of with me. You know that I’ll be here for you.”

Luz’s eyes hit the floor, where the pile of yarn had been discarded. A hand drifted up to pick at her lips – a nervous habit she hadn’t used in years. Maybe… maybe Eda was right. This could be a chance to get that relationship that Luz wanted with Eda back. Maybe Eda would have answers for her.

“Luz?” Eda asked, prompting.

“I might have a crush on Amity,” she admitted, voice small in the room that currently seemed so big. As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. It had been a moment of weakness; a lapse in judgement. She was better than this.

Eda didn’t offer an input, but Luz noted the slight slice in between her eyebrows that became more prominent every time Eda was forming a (usually critical) thought.

“I know it’s wrong.” The words came out somewhat biting, in their defensiveness and self-pity. “You don’t have to tell me that part.”

“No,” Eda said, voice powerful, and Luz was suddenly hit with the memory of finding that comforting, once upon a time – Eda’s ability to fill a space so effortlessly, and always be right. “Why would it be wrong?”

“Well, Amity relies on us for a place to stay,” Luz began, “so if I ever told her, I’d be manipulating her into saying yes. Plus, she’s already in a weird emotional state, and I’m practically taking advantage of her… so, yeah.”

There were several moments of not-quite-uncomfortable silence, where Luz favoured looking down at her hands in her lap, rather than see the emotions crossing Eda’s face. Her hands were clammy, she found; cold, and uncomfortable.

“There’s nothing wrong about catching feelings for somebody, because you can’t control what you feel,” Eda finally said, voice slow, and wise. “You’ve obviously thought this through a lot, which is very responsible. But don’t you think Amity deserves a say in this, too? I mean, you don’t know anything about her feelings.”

“I know she doesn’t have feelings for me,” Luz scoffed.

“Do you?” Eda asked, and Luz looked up. Eda’s gaze was piercing, inquisitive. “Why don’t you give her the chance to speak about her own feelings?”

“I already told you,” Luz said. “I’d be manipulating her. It wouldn’t be her feelings – it would be her fear.”

Eda leant back onto the arm of the sofa, hands settling into her lap, relaxed. “You seem to have an idea that Amity’s a lot more fragile than she actually is,” she said observantly. “Don’t forget that Amity’s always been the instigator; she was the one to run away. She wasn’t kicked out, or anything against her will. You think she’d shy away from listening to the feelings of one of her closest friends?”

Luz inhaled as if to speak, but hesitated. “I – I don’t know.”

“Also,” Eda continued, “she’d be a horrible friend, and an even worse partner, if she didn’t even hear you out. Either way, it’s worth a try, right?”

Of course, Luz understood the logic in Eda’s words (understood in the same way she understood most things Eda said; at a surface level, to be mulled over and thought about in great detail later), but it still felt… weird. “You’re not weirded out?”

“By what?”

“Me liking girls?”

Eda chuckled softly. “No, Luz. I love you, no matter what. Actually, me and your mom talked, last weekend – right before Amity disappeared, remember? So… I sort of knew.”

“My mom told you?” Luz asked loudly, heat springing to her cheeks, and eyes.

“No,” Eda was quick to assure, voice also rising in slight-panic. “She just… we both had our suspicions. That wasn’t what we talked about, but the conversation you had with Camilia came up.”

“Oh,” Luz said. “Okay.”

Eda looked slightly uncomfortable for a second. “But – actually, that wasn’t the thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

It was Luz’s turn to frown slightly, and she tilted her head. “What do you mean?” She asked, picking at one of her nails. There had been a burst of warmth at Eda’s acceptance – but it was beginning to fade.

“I mean when I asked you and Amity about your day, you didn’t respond. And when we spoke at breakfast this morning, you brushed me off. Is everything okay?”

Oh. That.

Luz took a long, deep breath, eyes closing for a moment. “I… yeah.” She said. “It’s just something I’m working through.”

“So it’s not okay?” Eda probed.

“Not really,” Luz said in soft admittance, shrugging. “But I’ll be fine. I just have to work some things out for myself.”

Eda nodded. “You know… you can say no if you want, but just because it’s your issue, doesn’t mean you have to deal with it alone. I’ll always be here, to lend an ear or a hand. You know that, right?”

Luz nodded. “It’s just…” she sighed, rubbing at her eyes. “I’ve been missing when it was just us.”

“Just… us?” asked Eda.

“Yeah,” Luz said. “Me, you, King… and Hooty, I guess, although he wasn’t really a daily feature.” She laughed softly, although there wasn’t exactly anything funny about the situation.

“You mean before Amity,” Eda said, and the understanding in her voice didn’t sound judgemental, but still made Luz flinch.

“It’s not that I want Amity to go back, or anything!” Luz hurried to justify, hands coming up to articulate her words better. “I’m just… it’s selfish.”

“No it’s not,” Eda said. “I don’t quite understand, though. Would you mind telling me a bit more?”

Luz’s eyes started to mist up, and she stood abruptly. “No,” she said, turning away from Eda and towards the staircase. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked about it. It’s stupid.”

The first chance she got to have a heart-to-heart with her mentor, and she was crying? Spirits, how embarrassing.

“Luz!” Eda called, but she’d already disappeared around the corner and was running up the stairs, two at the time.

Luz didn’t have any response, instead getting to her room and shutting the door (a sign that had come to mean ‘do not disturb’ in the two years Luz had been co-inhabiting the Owl House) and collapsing onto her bed, so that she could groan into the pillow. Why had she even brought it up? Eda wouldn’t understand – it was a stupid issue that Luz needed to work out by herself.

A few moments later, a knock came on the door. “Luz?” Eda called. “Can we please talk about this? What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” Luz said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

A resigned sigh came from outside the door. “Alright,” said Eda. “I’ll… see you later, then. Remember, I’m always here to help.”

Luz paused, listening to footsteps retreating and going down the stairs. She felt… like sh*t, for lack of a better word. Eda knew what she was feeling – what she was thinking – now. There would be no more hiding it. Why did she open up? It always went badly. It had taken her so long to feel comfortable to even talk about her feelings with her mom, and she expected Eda to be able to interpret her stupid ramblings?

And now Eda – her mentor, her role model – probably thought she was selfish and uncaring. Exactly what she’d been afraid of. This was – this was all her fault.

She buried her head into her pillow, fighting the urge to scream.

* * *

No less than ten minutes later, the door opened without a knock. Usually it’d only be King that would dare to do that (when the do-not-disturb agreement was in place?), so Luz turned her head to glare at King and ask him to leave her to mope around in peace.

Instead, Amity entered, half-shutting the door behind her (weird) and heading straight to sit on her own bed, seemingly not even taking in Luz’s presence (double-weird.) Luz shifted, pushing herself up until she was sitting, too.

“Amity?” She asked, but her voice was low after having spoken to Eda and then gotten emotional. “Are you okay?”

Amity let out a harsh breath, as if trying to expel some form of energy, before she made eye contact with Luz. Except, she didn’t say anything right away, and Luz tilted her head, slightly.

“Emira and I talked.” She stated. Well… yeah. Luz knew that part. “She said I should stop going to school.”

* * *

“But you’ve been going to school this whole time, and there haven’t been many complications.”

The congregation (Amity and Luz on the couch, Eda on a chair she’d pulled in closer, and Emira on the table, for some reason) had all gathered again to debate the issue. Apparently, after Emira’s dinner with Mr and Mrs Blight the night before, she’d come back with news and advice that, if she was being honest, Luz was sceptical about taking.

“You don’t know what they’re planning,” Emira said, turning to her. “And… in all honesty, you don’t know them.”

“Then fill me in,” Luz said back.

When Amity had first told her, Luz’s instinct was to panic and get defensive. Amity needed to go to school – she’d said it herself – and the times they’d been threatened, they’d dealt with themselves (albeit rockily, but with each new danger came more experience, and Luz didn’t doubt that they’d continue to improve on how to keep Amity hidden.)

“They know she’s here,” Emira said, rather than give Luz the time of day. They’d been friends, once, but in moments like these, their personalities clashed, and their words turned a little south of friendly towards each other. “They probably always have. The only reason they don’t just storm in and demand you back is to save face. You know all they care about is their company.”

Amity nodded. “It makes sense,” she admitted. “They probably haven’t even told anyone I’m missing, right?”

Emira shook her head in confirmation. “Mom’s making Dad do all the showcases, and they’ve sent out a public statement that you’re just too busy focussing on your studies.”

“Manipulation, not confrontation,” Amity said familiarly. “Should’ve known.”

Shaking her head, Luz interjected, “then what’s the problem with what we’ve been doing?”

“The Emperor’s Coven is watching you,” Emira said, directly to Amity, and Luz wanted to scoff at being ignored. “And they won’t exercise the same kind of restraint as our parents.”

“The Emperor’s Coven?” Amity asked, turning pale.

“Well. Not all of it. As a gesture of good faith to our family, they’ve got a couple of people ‘looking for you.’ They’re only going to get closer.”

“Is Lilith on that team?” Eda asked.

“Yeah,” Emira responded. “She’s leading it.”

Eda nodded thoughtfully. “Lilith doesn’t do anything without definite proof, either. She could – she probably has – followed you two home from school one day.”

“The day she showed up here,” Luz muttered.

“But there’s no proof without her seeing Amity inside with her own eyes; luckily, Lilith isn’t the type to fabricate that,” Eda pushed on. “But… I have to say, I understand the threat.”

“Exactly,” Emira gestured to Eda passionately. “So… Amity has to hide.”

Amity placed her head in her hands, rubbing at her temples. “I shouldn’t have even ran away,” she muttered. “I knew they’d find me.”

Luz placed a hand on Amity’s arm, and Amity leant into it, slightly. She could feel Eda’s gaze on their point of contact – on her – but didn’t look up, instead turning back to Emira.

“So the only way to fix it is for her to stop going to school altogether?” She asked. Amity raised herself back up, and Luz’s hand naturally dropped from her arm. She kept it close to Amity’s side, though – just in case.

“Actually,” said Eda, “there might be another solution.”

Three heads turned to her. “You still want to graduate, right?” Eda asked, directly at Amity.

She nodded. “Can’t I just transfer?”

“Bump reports to the Emperor’s Coven; he’d never allow it. Belos would know before you finished completing the paperwork.” Emira sighed.

“We can just cast illusion magic,” Eda said. “It’s not a perfect solution – you’d need to be you in school, and you’d still have to be cautions – but all they’ll see is some random person going to and from the Owl House every day. Fixed, right?”

“…maybe,” Emira said. “That isn’t a bad idea, actually.”

“I can’t do illusion magic,” Luz said. “Neither can Amity. And Emira’s leaving next week.”

“Kid, I’ll do the magic,” said Eda. “You just can’t let anybody touch you whilst it’s on.”

“That seems… simple enough,” said Amity. “We can do that, right?”

* * *

Emira made her exit quickly, claiming dinner with her parents, and reassuring that she’d be back to visit as soon as she could. The day, all in all, had taken a lot out of all of them (and with the air still strange between Luz and Eda, she’d excused herself as soon as possible to begin getting ready for sleep.)

What she hadn’t been expecting was for Amity to follow her up the stairs, and for them to begin their routines together. Although they shared a room, and a bathroom, their schedules didn’t really interact; Luz left things to the last minute, almost exhausted by the time she pulled herself up to half-heartedly wash her face. Amity, on the other hand, seemed to need time to wind down from the day, primped and meditating before the thought of sleep even crossed Luz’s mind.

Working alongside each other reminded Luz of when they’d begun sharing a room – when Amity had first shown up. It had been a few months, now, and yet Luz wasn’t completely used to her presence. Her actions, sure – but the sight of her still made Luz’s heart jump, in surprise or something else.

And Amity always seemed so soft, when she was getting ready to go to bed. Not quite vulnerable – just a side of her that not many people got to see. If tearing herself away from whatever she was doing to join this routine with Amity meant Luz got to see this, maybe she should start doing it more often.

Eventually, they finished, and Luz collapsed into her bed, pulling the blankets up over her chin and sucking in a breath. “Hey, Amity?” She said, peeling the covers down until they were under her arms.

Amity peeked an eye open from her meditation. “What?” She asked.

“I – about yesterday…” Luz started, the words that she’d been mulling over all day suddenly refusing to come to her lips. “I’m sorry for running away.”

Amity nodded, but didn’t offer a response. “And I’m sorry about… you know.”

Luz observed as Amity dropped all semblance of meditation, both eyes opening. “About what?”

“You know… I almost kissed you.”

“You’re sorry about that?”

“Yes! You were crying, and I… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“…okay. Well if you’re sorry… it’s fine.”

“Okay. But do you… want to talk about it?”

“I-“ Amity’s eyes widened. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay!” Luz hurried to say. “I just wanted to… you know, let you know that if you ever want to talk about it…”

Amity nodded, and closed her eyes again, signifying that the conversation was over. Luz turned so that she wasn’t facing Amity, hugging the blanket that had gathered around her chest. She felt… like she’d been scolded, or shunned, for some reason. Amity didn’t want to talk about it. That should’ve been obvious.

Shutting her eyes, Luz fought the burning sensation in the back of her throat.

Chapter 19: camilia interlude i

Chapter Text

Camilia hadn’t always wanted to be a nurse. For the better part of her early life, she hadn’t known what a nurse even was; apart from caricature cartoon characters she saw on the television. Healthcare was expensive and patchy in their household, and she’d always been a cautious child; so no hospital visits for her, it seemed.

Her parents had been first generation immigrants, and they’d fought tooth and nail, day in day out, to get food on the table for her. Her mother had been a cleaner for rich white women that paid too little for how much they spent on extortionate bags and jewels and the like. And her father jumped from job to job; freelancing, he’d told her it was, with his computer science degree that didn’t qualify enough for a full-time job in this country.

They lived in a small apartment, and never bought anything they didn’t need. Camilia used to go to school and gawk at the cars that passed her on the street. She learnt the concept of money – of bringing a packed lunch when her friends ate the unhealthy and expensive food at school – early.

She wasn’t allowed to go out with her friends (not that there was anywhere to go, she supposed; she’d been warned to stay out of the local park and let the grown men that puffed thick wisps of smoke inhibit it.) And yet there was always food, and whenever Camilia felt the growing impact of a lack of money on the household, her parents were good at hushing the worries as they kissed her forehead, making her forget.

But despite their struggles, her mom always found time to volunteer in their neighbourhood, handing out canned food to those more in need. Camilia trailed her a few times, on the weekends where there was nothing else to do but sit at the window and watch the clouds pass, sitting on the side and watching as people queued to get food, clothes, health service, all free of charge.

That was where she met her mom’s best friend, and the woman that made her want to be a nurse – Tía Carmela. She set up a station every week, offering free health check ups for anybody that needed it (parents usually brought their children, shoving them into that line whilst they collected food, waiting anxiously as Tía Carmela poked and prodded and measured.

“She’s helping,” her mom had said to her after catching Camilia watching. “Carmela’s a very smart woman. We need more people like her.”

Camilia wanted to be a person like her.

So, she worked. College was expensive, and she didn’t want to put her parents through that. She fought, too – tooth and nail, brick by brick, building herself up until she was a shoe in for a scholarship. Not at the best school, but it was a scholarship nonetheless, and the pride on her parents faces as they kissed her temple and congratulated her made her feel valued.

She was made valedictorian, and gave a speech to a bunch of kids that were all in the same situation as her – in the same crappy, forgotten town, where crime rates were high and arrests were even higher. Most didn’t listen; it didn’t matter.

Her speech, which she’d worked on for weeks, was an ode to her parents. To her life. It was a thank you, and a goodbye.

College was difficult – she had issues making friends, and wanted to stay at home and study enough. School was for work; she had to work hard to stay. Friends could wait. After college, work is difficult. But she perseveres.

She moves out, but every month, a chunk of her paycheck goes back to her parents. And, she thinks, she’s done it.

* * *

At twenty-five, she makes a mistake. This is her first mistake – her first major one, at least, and she finds herself bitter at the idea that one f*ck-up can do this to her when so many people do so much worse. A boy (a man, she supposes she should call him, but she still feels so much like a child) dumps her when he finds out she’s pregnant. They’ve only been dating four months, but the sting, accompanied by the fear, leaves her feeling lost.

She denies that she’s pregnant – misses her periods, starts being sick in the mornings, gains weight, gets abdominal cramps so severe she has to put her life on pause and breathe through the pain. It’s the stress, she reasons. But then she takes a test (three, if you want to be technical), and breaks down.

She gives up the apartment – her apartment – and moves back in with her parents. She’d been saving up for a house, but the money can go to a baby, instead. She’ll make it work.

Her baby creeps up on her; the morning sickness and the pain all fade into a number of weeks in her mind. Suddenly, she’s taking time off work, and the baby’s due date is less than a month away.

With the speed of the pregnancy, comes the resentment.

Camilia Noceda does not want a baby. She’s too young, too immature, too financially and emotionally unstable. Time is a luxury she does not yet have, and a baby will take from that too much.

It will take from her – take things she isn’t willing to give away.

At seven months, she breaks down to her mother, who she now shares a room with. Privacy, too, is something she should never have let herself get a taste of – because now that it’s missing, she finds anger behind every doorway that isn’t there for her to slam shut.

“I never asked for this,” she sobs into her mother’s shoulder, the tension somehow draining from her body, although it’s the only thing that’s been keeping her standing so far. Her mother rubs soothing circles into her back, and shushes her softly.

“You know, when I was pregnant with you, your papi and I were so nervous,” she says into Camilia’s hair before placing a soft kiss, as if Camilia is a child again. “I didn’t think I was cut out to take care of a child. But the second you came into the world, I knew I would do anything to protect you.”

Camilia sniffles, and feels even younger than before. “I – I’m just so scared.”

“You will make an amazing mother, mija. You’ll have me for babysitting, and you can still work. You’re kind, and honest, and strong. And this child? Although you can’t see it yet, she will become the light of your life.”

* * *

In typical Noceda fashion, her baby decides to come early.

Labour is… long, but afterwards, she’s holding a small girl in her hands, with eyes that don’t focus quite right and a body so delicate, so much smaller than she could’ve ever imagined.

Light of her life, her mother once said. Camilia thinks she understands that, now.

She presses soft kisses into the baby’s forehead, underneath the smatter of black fuzz that will one day become curls of dark hair, and decides she will name this girl, ‘Luz.’

* * *

In Camilia’s line of work, she deals with a lot of children. It doesn’t happen often (and yet it still happens too much), but sometimes a child will come in regularly, with broken bones and superficial bruising, and will flinch when she doesn’t announce her presence, or her touch. She learns to soften her movements, dictating each action before she follows it through. The glasses she’s adopted due to one too many nights studying under the glow of streetlamps and what’s left of the moon through the pollution soften her face, make her seem more approachable, after years of attempting to harden herself into an unmovable force, an object of constant momentum forwards.

And she lets herself be softened; lets herself feel pity, and anger, at the hand these children have been dealt.

Her job is about constant learning. Constant attendance. With the years comes knowledge, amongst other things (wrinkles under her eyes from the irregular sleep, constant brain hum that keeps her alert.) She begins noticing signs of trauma; the diverted eye contact, the flinching, the weary looks after kind words.

She comes home every night, kisses her growing girl on the forehead, sings a lullaby into her soft skin in the language that they share. Thanks everything that she can that at least her girl is alright, will grow up alright.

* * *

When Luz is nine, Camilia buys a house, moves out. The accomplishment is so overwhelming that she cries in its doorway, as Luz jumps the stairs two at a time to stake claim on a bedroom.

* * *

Luz is not like the other children. She’s alright, yes (if not a little scattered, but it only adds to her charm, Camilia thinks.) Luz, like her name, is effervescent, brightening every room she walks into with her words and her smile. Camilia enjoys sitting, silent, in her presence, listening to her daughter making up stories about her day and their lives.

This is not socially acceptable, it seems. Luz begins getting into trouble with school. Her stories become more outlandish, and apparently Camilia isn’t the only one to hear them, anymore. Luz shares her stories – shares her beautiful creativity – with her classmates, and they don’t take it was well as she does. Camilia begins taking time off work to go and visit her principal, apologising as she ushers Luz out of the door, scolds her for her lack of care. “You can’t do that, mija,” she says. “The school doesn’t like it.”

“But you like it,” Luz says back, and her voice trembles slightly with tears, and Camilia feels herself wanting to choke up, too.

They reach the parking lot, and Camilia unlocks the car, pausing in the doorway to ponder what her next words will be.

She gets in, and shuts the door, but does not start the car. Luz, in the passenger seat besides her, is scowling in the way that Camilia knows means she’s hurt.

“I love it,” she says, reaching out a hand to squeeze Luz’s own. “I love you, mija, always. But you have to fit in. You have to be normal.”

“Why?” Says Luz, arms folding over her chest and reminding Camilia how young her daughter is (she’s only thirteen, but sometimes she talks as if she is so much older, so much wiser. Camilia wonders if she was ever like this to her parents – if they ever thought these kinds of things, had these kinds of worries about her.)

Camilia starts the car. “It’s just the way the world works.”

* * *

When Luz is fourteen, Camilia is called into the principal’s office for the last time. She sends Luz off to a summer camp that will help, says the principal.

Two months later, Luz comes home with a story far bigger than any she’s ever told before.

* * *

Camilia hears Luz out, in disbelief, but then Luz drags her to a doorway and suddenly she’s being proven wrong. Her breath catches in her chest at the enormity of the world she sees – head desperately trying to wrap around this whole idea.

“Okay,” she says, choked off, looking for the door to go back with one hand, the other terrified to look away from the hulking beasts that cover the land. “Let’s go home.”

They leave, and Camilia marvels at how that world was sitting in her shed this entire time, like some sort of Narnia hybrid. She walks into her house and still feels strange, mind reeling.

Turning, she sees Luz, looking at her hesitantly, arms tense behind her back, probably fidgeting. The house, she remembers, has felt so big, so quiet, without Luz’s presence.

And so Camilia gathers Luz into her arms, squeezing tight, and presses the same kisses into Luz’s forehead as she always has; the ones that used to grant her so much comfort. And, rather than talking about the witch-world story (they, will, Camilia’s sure; she’s just not quite ready to process that yet.) “I missed you, mija,” she says to Luz, running a hand through Luz’s still-short and still-soft hair.

“Missed you too,” Luz says, muffled. And Camilia laughs.

* * *

“Okay,” Camilia says, two days later, to Luz. They’re perched on the couch in the living room; Luz had given up on waiting for her to approach first, and dragged Camilia downstairs to have this talk. “Explain it to me.”

“I don’t fit in here,” Luz says easily (which is strange; like she’s been practicing this speech, or like the words hold no emotional meaning despite the twinge they cause in Camilia’s chest.) “But there – mami, there I can do magic. There, everyone is like me.”

“So… what? You want to live there?”

“I want us to live there. I missed you so much – and you’d love it, promise! I’ve been staying with this amazing witch called Eda, and I have these friends –“

“Luz,” Camilia interrupts, causing Luz’s words to die in her throat. “I understand you feel at home there, but I – I have a life here, mija. I can’t just move to a world of magic.”

Luz swallows, and her eyes get watery, causing the back of Camilia’s throat to begin aching. “But…” she sniffs, looking at the ground. “I finally feel like I belong somewhere when I’m there. I’ve always been out of place, but not with them.”

Camilia nods. “I understand what you’re saying, but it’s far more complicated than just living there. What happens to the ‘Luz’ that lives in the human world? She has to go to school by law. You can’t just disappear.”

“So… I can’t?” Luz asks, voice cracking halfway. Camilia reaches out to place an arm on Luz’s shoulder, rubbing softly.

“I didn’t say that. We just… need to think about it. I’d like to see where you’ll be living, and who with, and you have to be going to somewhere like school, and you have to visit, often.”

“Okay,” Luz’s tears finally spill, but a smile breaks out over her face. “I can visit every weekend. And I already go to school there – at Hexside.”

“Hexside?” Camilia asks, softly.

“Yeah! And I have friends – Willow and Gus, and Amity, and a bunch of other people that like me, like Emira and Viney and Edric and- oh, thank you so much!”

Luz lunges at her, and Camilia chuckles as her arms are suddenly filled with her daughter. “It’s okay, mija. I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.”

* * *

As an adult, Camilia doesn’t really have ‘friends’. She has a few – colleagues, and acquaintances, and people she’s known from childhood, and family friends. But she’s never befriended the other mom’s in Luz’s years of school – always too busy with irregular shifts to attend any gatherings, or sit on any boards, and the like.

And she hasn’t ever really given any thought to it before. It was just the way things were. But, here she is about to meet the woman that will take care of Luz – and has been taking care of Luz – for the foreseeable future, and she has no clue what to do.

She needs to make a good impression, surely; get a gift? But wine is inappropriate for someone who has no clue what wine is, and flowers die, and every small house trinket probably fails in comparison to what witches have in regards of home décor.

This is how, on a Saturday afternoon, she finds herself having knitted and sewn together a thick, quilt-like blanket, full of mismatched colours and slightly loose stitches that she hopes will be a good gift. She doesn’t know this woman – this Eda, as Luz calls her – but if she doesn’t like the gift, at least Luz can use it to keep herself warm in the winter (assuming, of course, witches have Winter.)

Her and Luz are standing in the shed, in front of that door with the terrifying eye and even more terrifying world behind it. Camilia holds the quilt a little too tightly, her hands becoming sore with the intense grip.

“You ready?” Luz asks, a hand on the door handle and an easy smile as if they aren’t walking into what is essentially a death trap.

Camilia has no words, so she nods, and watches with wide eyes as Luz pushes open the door.

This time, they don’t appear in the middle of a vast empty field, in which every death trap is staring her straight in the face. They’re in front of a house that’s terribly messily designed (the paint and the original structure is fine, but there’s a leaning tower out to the side, and a shed that looks ready to fall apart on the other side.

There’s also an… owl, on the door. An owl that is watching her, and talking in the most irritating voice she has ever heard.

She tries not to freak out – channels her inner calm, like the women used to tell her at all those pregnancy meditation classes she used to attend for free at the local youth centres. Imagine a happy place, and breathe slowly.

She may just rip this blanket before it gets to Eda, anyway.

The owl-door is saying something to Luz, who is responding as if making conversation is normal, and the words are flying straight past Camilia’s eyes, illegible and lost. Why do the doors speak English?

And then the door is swinging open, and a woman with the largest ball of grey hair she’s ever seen is standing in the doorway. “That’s enough, Hooty,” she says in a raspy, deep tone, a teasing grin on her face.

The door – the owl door – is called Hooty. Suddenly, things aren’t as terrifying as Camilia had been imaging them to be.

The woman’s eyes move upwards and catch her own. In heels, this woman is taller than Camilia – taller than most, actually – and moves like she’s some 90’s runway model. “Edalyn Clawthorne,” she says, strutting over and holding out a hand to shake.

Camilia shakes it, and Eda’s hand comes right off.

A scream catches in her throat as the (now detached) hand lets go of hers, and Eda catches it as it falls with her other hand, screwing it back on as if what had just happened was normal. Camilia lets out a breathy laugh that comes out weak and scared.

“Camilia Noceda,” she says. “I’m Luz’s mom.”

Edalyn (Eda, Luz had called her, but Camilia had always been one for formalities) looks her up and down. “The mom, huh,” she says, crossing her arms and raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “I’m Luz’s mentor.”

“Okay,” Camilia said, looking down at the blanket in her hands before outstretching it. “This – a gift. Thank you for taking care of Luz for the past few months.”

Edalyn takes the quilt, looking it over, before the thing in the door stretches and takes the blanket into its mouth. Camilia’s eyes widen, and she tries to keep the horror off of her face.

“Yeah, well,” Edalyn shrugs. “I did what any good mentor would do. I’d say I’m a pretty good caretaker, actually.”

“That’s good,” Camilia says, not quite catching on to Edalyn’s teasing tone. “Can I see where Luz has been sleeping?”

“Of course, of course,” Edalyn says, turning around and going back into the house (passing the Hooty, who drops Camilia’s quilt into her hands on the way past.) Luz follows without hesitation, and Camilia finds herself sucking in a breath of courage before following the two of them inside.

The house tour goes smoothly (Edalyn begins making sly comments about how she’s practically been Luz’s mother figure these past few months, and how she’s so talented at magic, and the best teacher Luz could ever have. Camilia remains silent, raising an eyebrow every time another one is made, and biting her lip to prevent a shriek every time they come across something strange – which is far more often than she’d like.)

They end up in the living room (which has breathing walls; Camilia doesn’t think too hard about it.) “And this is King,” Edalyn says happily, as a small… beast walks into the room.

“Hello, Luz’s mom!” King’s voice is much less intimidating than Camilia thought it’d be. King looks a little like a pet, except he talks and there’s a skull on his forehead, and in this world she’s weary of everything. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Likewise… King,” Camilia bends down.

“I am the King of Demons!” King declares. “So your daughter is in very safe hands.”

“…demons?” Camilia asks, eyes rising to Luz, who shrugs.

“Yeah,” says Edalyn. “Cool, right?”

“My daughter is living with a witch and a demon,” Camilia says, more to herself. “And a talking door-owl. What is that, by the way?”

“Oh, we don’t talk about Hooty,” says Luz. “I still have no clue what he is.”

“Great.” Camilia stands, looking to Edalyn. “Well. Thank you for showing me around.”

“Of course! I just want to make sure Luz’s other mom feels comfortable with me.”

“…Other mom?”

“Yeah.” Edalyn’s lips turn upwards at the end, so similar to the way Luz looks when she’s up to trouble. “I thought we established that I was like a mother figure?”

“Like a mother figure,” Camilia emphasizes. “I’m her mother.”

“I’m her mentor!”

“That is not her mother, Edalyn.”

“But I teach her five days a week, and cook, and clean after her.”

“I’ve been doing that for fourteen years.”

“I teach her magic! That’s far cooler than anything you could do.”

“She came out of me. I made her.”

“Ew, mom,” Luz says, nose scrunching.

“What?” Camilia asks, finding that she’s smiling. “It’s true, mija. I should be proud of it.”

She clears her throat. “Anyway, I should be going. Luz, a word?”

Luz’s nerves are visible as the two of them walk outside (through that hideous doorway) and into the open. Camilia smiles at her softly, taking her hands.

“You’re happy here?” She asks, searching Luz’s eyes.

“I am,” Luz says honestly.

“Alright.” Camilia pulls her into a hug. “Then you can stay. We’ll work out the rest as it comes.”

“Thank you!” Luz exclaims, squeezing her. “I love you, mami.”

“Te quiero,” Camilia responds. “But I also can’t stay here any longer. It’s freaking me out.”

Luz pulls away from the hug and laughs. “Okay,” she says. “Then… I’ll see you next Friday?”

Camilia nods, and can’t resist pulling Luz in for another hug. “Stay safe,” she says.

“As if I’d let her get injured!” Edalyn calls, apparently having made her way outside. Camilia pulls back from Luz, planting a hand on her hip as she looks at the taller woman.

“Alright,” she says. “See you, Luz.”

“Bye,” Luz responds. And, with one final glance, Camilia leaves.

* * *

Two years pass without a hitch. Camilia meets Willow a couple of times, and Gus only once (he’s younger, she knows – his parents are probably terrified of leaving their only child in a stranger’s care.) But then one day, Luz brings a girl with bright green hair through the door.

Camilia takes one look at this girl – Amity, Luz says her name is, because she’s too quiet to introduce herself – and a well opens up in her heart.

As she’d previously said, she knows what a mistreated child looks like. Amity ticks practically every box – the flinching, the avoided eye contact, the distrust in Camilia. She doesn’t know this girl, but she knows a little of what she’d been through – enough for a twinge of hurt to reach her heart every time Amity moved.

Luz whispers to her, late at night after Amity has gone to sleep, about what has happened to the girl; how she’s ended up living with them. And Camilia is helpless to do anything but listen.

That’s the issue, with those types of children. Camilia is a nurse – she helps to heal physical wounds. But the mental ones are far more difficult.

* * *

Camilia doesn’t know what she’s done wrong. One moment, Amity and Luz are stargazing before dinner; the next, Amity is rushing into the house and up to what has been dubbed ‘her room’, and Camilia thinks she spots tears. Luz comes in a while after (long enough for Camilia to get worried, and consider entering the treehouse herself to check on her daughter.)

Luz has always been one to talk; usually she’d bombard Camilia with a thousand topics, fleeting from one to the other in a fascinating study of how her brain works. But today she was quiet.

“I’m going to bed, mom,” she says, eyes downcast.

“Alright,” Camilia pauses what she’s been doing – that is, washing dishes (because from the counter she can see from the front door straight to the stairway, and she likes to watch what happens in her own house.) “Is everything alright?”

Luz nods simply, before trudging up the stairs.

The next morning is just as bad – Camilia breaks out the big guns (the board games; they’ve always worked for Camilia and Luz when they have a bad argument.) But nothing she does is adequate – soon the two girls are preparing to leave, and she has made absolutely no progress.

Frustration lights like a coil in her stomach. She hates not being able to help.

As is routine, she walks them to the door, which Edalyn already has propped open. Usually, the exchange is a quick affair (Edalyn and Camilia let off a little steam in their bickering with each other, Camilia drops a few teasing words about Edalyn’s cooking, Edalyn gets fired up enough to mention that she’s magic (which is so outdated for their arguments, really.))

But today, Edalyn’s eyes meet hers, then Luz’s and she’s patting Luz on the back, telling her to “Go ahead,” taking King from her arms (fast asleep like a baby), and shutting the door behind the two of them

Camilia observes Edalyn for a second, half expecting a snake to pop out of her sleeve. “What’s up?” She asks.

“That’s what I was gonna ask you,” she responds, a hand carding through King’s fur. “Did anything happen? Luz looks all down in the dumps.”

“She… I don’t know.” Camilia’s arms cross over her chest. “I thought something was up, too, but neither of them would talk to me.”

Eda hums, and shifts King in her arms. “But you don’t know?”

“They –“ Camilia hesitates. “They went up to Luz’s treehouse completely fine, but came down like that. That was last night; something happened between them up there.”

“An argument?” Edalyn asks.

“No… Luz isn’t the type to argue unless she’s really upset. And she kept trying to reach out – it’s just Amity that was reserved.”

Edalyn pauses to think, and the silence is sudden between them. In the late evening, the air is slightly humid, and the only sound is cars driving past on the road nearby. “What if they kissed?”

“Kissed?” Camilia asks, shock seeping into her voice. She had her… suspicions, about her daughter’s feelings, but she also assumed that Luz wasn’t the type to make a move like that.

“Well?” Edalyn asks. “Could they have?”

“…I suppose,” says Camilia. “But why would they be acting like this if they did kiss? Wouldn’t they be… like teenagers are?”

“What, you mean all flustered?” Edalyn shuffles so that she’s holding King with one arm, the other reaching up to scratch at her forehead. “Yeah, you’re right… maybe Luz confessed her feelings?”

“And Amity didn’t respond well,” Camilia finishes off the train of thought. “Maybe. Either way – they’re a mess.”

Eda snorts. “You’re telling me. Anyway – any advice for me about Luz?”

So now she takes Camilia’s advice. “Get her to talk,” she says. “Luz is an overthinker. The longer you wait, the more she’ll fall into a pit of her own feelings. But also let her come to you, a bit – you don’t want her to feel like she’s forced.”

“Okay…” Edalyn trails off. “I’ll try my best.”

“Alright,” says Camilia. “Well then… good luck, Edalyn.”

She meets Edalyn’s eyes, trying to express genuineness, and Edalyn’s pale skin goes a shade of light purple.

“You know… just ‘Eda’ is fine, too,” she says. “You’ve been calling me by my full name since we met.”

“Eda,” Camilia tests the word, and the purple on Eda’s cheeks grows darker.

“Alright,” she says. “Gotta put King to bed. See you next week, Luz’s mother number one.”

“Does that mean there’s a number two?”

“Yeah, me. Obviously.”

“Right, right. Goodbye… Eda.”

* * *

This weekend, they come home, and something is different. Luz’s eyes are constantly glassy with tears that don’t belong, and Amity has taken three steps backwards, not even trusting Luz enough to let her guard down in the house. Camilia doesn’t speak a word about it – exchanging a glance with Eda, who just shrugs and leaves her to it.

How incredibly helpful. She supposes she’ll be navigating this one alone, then.

It doesn’t take long, because Luz comes to her right after dinner, when Camilia usually sits in front of the television and lets herself sink into the sofa until she’s too exhausted to move, and the weariness of the day has disappeared. Luz sits, tentative, and Camilia’s reminded of the first ever conversation they had about the witch world.

How long ago that was, Camilia remarks. And yet how very recent.

“Mom?” Luz asks, voice already shaky. Camilia pauses the TV, turning to her daughter.

“What is it, mija?”

“I messed everything up.”

And then Luz is crying into her shoulder, and Camilia is shushing her and brushing her hair away from her face and kissing her forehead. She’s listening as Luz explains her feelings for Amity, their almost-kiss(es), the previous night’s actions.

“She hates me,” Luz says, snot seeping through Camilia’s shirt. “So does Eda. So does everybody.”

“No,” Camilia says, pulling Luz back so she can look into her eyes. “No, mija. Nobody could ever hate you.”

“But – they-“

“You know why I named you Luz?” Camilia asks. Luz settles her head into the soft spot between Camilia’s neck and shoulder. “I had a lot of trouble during your pregnancy – I wasn’t prepared for a baby, and my boyfriend had just left me, and I was scared, mija, so scared. But my mother – abuela – sat me down, and told me that my fears didn’t matter, because you would be the light of my life.”

“Abuela?” Luz asks. It’s rare for Camilia to talk about her mother – it’s become a sore spot after her passing, a few years ago.

“Yes,” Camilia said. “And she was right. The moment you were born, and your tiny little hand held mine, I knew you were the light of my life, Luz. And, as you grew up, you just got so much brighter.”

Luz began to cry silently again, her hand finding Camilia’s. Camilia squeezed tightly, continuing. “There is nobody in this world that can hate you, mija. You are so bright, and kind, and caring. You have the most beautiful soul I have ever seen. A few mistakes are not the end of the world; we can work through them.”

“Can we?” Luz asks weakly.

“Yes, mija.” Camilia turns her head, and places a kiss into Luz’s curls. Luz seems so small now, tucked against her side – like she’s a baby again, and Camilia is supporting her head and imparting her love. “Yes. We can.”

Chapter 20: schools & sabotages

Chapter Text

“Alright,” said Eda, taking a step back to admire her handiwork. “What do we think?”

Luz hadn’t slept well; her night had been restless, plagued with thoughts of the conversation her and Amity had had last week. Time had passed, faster than she knew what to do with and could even acknowledge; after that conversation with her mom, Luz’s mind had (futilely) switched to figuring out ways to fix the… whatever that was going on between her and Amity.

She didn’t talk with Eda (after the train wreck that was their last conversation, she probably needed to divert some brain power to figuring out how to fix that, too), instead keeping to herself. She’d woken late, and tired, and come down the stairs to see a leftover plate of breakfast for her – so they’d eaten without her – and Eda trying out illusion magic as per Emira’s plan.

Oh, right. Emira’s plan. In all the teenage angst occupying Luz’s brain, it hadn’t been much of a priority.

Amity, who looked disconcertingly not-like-Amity, turned to admire herself in the mirror. “It feels… weird,” she said.

“It looks weird,” piped up King. “And totally awesome!”

“You think?” Eda chuckled.

Amity twisted one of her new bright-red ringlets between two fingers. “Maybe make me a little more subtle?”

“Can do,” said Eda, fingers already forming another magic circle. “And… bam!”

King began to cackle at Eda’s sound effect as Amity was surrounded by a puff of momentary smoke. It cleared, and in its place was a shorter Amity, with green-ish skin and short black hair.

“I like this one,” Amity said.

“But it’s so boring,” King protested. “Where’s the flare? Where’s the jazz?”

Eda leant over to chop the top of King’s skull, before observing Amity again. “Well… you’ll certainly blend in. Anyway, it’s time for school – somebody needs to go and wake up –“

Each of them turned to the stairway, where Luz was stood, frozen, hands wrapped around herself. “No need to come and get me,” she chuckled awkwardly. “I’m ready to go.”

“You’re in pyjamas,” Amity pointed out.

Luz looked down. “Right… I’ll go change, and then we can get going!”

She dashed back up the stairs, the uncomfortable tingling she was getting all too used to already beginning to crawl up the back of her neck. They hadn’t needer her – her presence, her opinion – again. It stung, even though she should be used to it by now.

She changed quickly (not wanting to be more of a burden was left unsaid, but she supposed it didn’t even have to be mentioned anymore to be acknowledged) and headed downstairs again.

Amity (not-quite-Amity) (an Amity hybrid?) (Amity-in-disguisity?) was waiting for her on the couch, and stood when she heard Luz thudding down the stairs. “Ready?” Amity asked.

“Yup,” Luz responded, fake cheer sounding sickly even to her own ears. But if Amity noticed, she didn’t address it, choosing instead to nod briefly and make her way to the front door.

“Wait!” Said King. “Luz!”

Luz turned, to find King holding the plate of leftover breakfast she’d spotted earlier. “You forgot this, and I put it aside just for you.”

Truthfully, she hadn’t meant to forget to eat, but the thought of food right now made her nauseous. “Thanks, King,” she said softly anyway, bending onto one knee to grab it. “I think I’ll take this to go.”

There was a moment of the crossover, where Luz took the plate and looked at King. King, who had thought of her at breakfast and set aside a plate. King, who had always been a cuddle-buddy or a companion for when she needed to vent her frustrations. King, who was just always there, and hadn’t done anything to deserve Luz’s self-deprecation, because he was a true friend.

As she began to get up, King launched himself at her, little stubby arms circling around her neck in a mock-hug that had him dangling from mid-air, claws digging into her neck to keep him from falling. Luz’s eyes widened as she stood stood, bringing her free arm up to support King’s weight, and curl him to her chest.

“I miss our hugs,” King said, burrowing his wet nose into Luz’s shoulder. Luz’s eyes filled rapidly at the gesture, tears teasing her lower lashes. She sniffled in a way that was hopefully inconspicuous, and held King tighter.

“Me too, buddy,” she said, glad that her voice came out even enough.

She held him for a few moments longer, feeling the soft fur on her cheek, letting herself draw momentary comfort from his warmth, before putting him down swiftly and tilting her had to the ceiling so that tears wouldn’t fall. “Okay,” she said, her free hand smacking into her cheek to focus herself. “School.”

“Yeah,” said Amity from the door. “We’re going to be late.”

Luz couldn’t help but notice this was the second time Amity had made a comment this morning – and one that sounded like the first time they’d ever met, when Amity was top-of-the-class, no less. That anger being directed at her made her… she didn’t know. Didn’t really want to know, either.

“Sorry, sorry,” Luz said in an attempt at light-heartedness, grabbing her bag. “Hooty, can you give us a lift today.”

“Of course!” Hooty said enthusiastically. “Hop on! I’ve got a great story to tell you both about the Bat Queen when she visited last week.”

Amity went on first, leaving Luz to take a seat right beside her. As soon as Luz sat, Amity shifted, putting a little more distance between them. Luz sucked in a breath.

She set the plate of breakfast food down on the grass. If she’d had any traces of appetite before, they were long gone.

“Holding on?” Hooty asked.

“Yup,” they both confirmed.

“Alright,” said Hooty as he began to extend. “So, she brought her three babies with her – and they were trouble!”

“Really?” Luz said, tone feigning half-interest, clinging to Hooty’s fur as he sped through the air. “Tell us more.”

She zoned out for the rest of the story, focussing on how the wind felt in her hair, and how she could escape most of her troubles when she closed her eyes. She wished there was some magic for curing everything she was going through; for figuring out a solution. But even if there was, this ride was too short to search the world for a glyph for it.

“Thanks,” they both said after they arrived, hopping off.

“Anytime!” Hooty responded. “Remind me to finish this story when you two get home!”

“Of course,” Luz said, absolutely not meaning to remind Hooty. “See you later.”

Hooty retreated (Luz always forgot how terrifying it was to see Hooty operate when you couldn’t see his connection to the house – just a huge owl-worm in the sky), leaving her and Amity in front of Hexside. It had been a while since they’d last gone to school – so much had happened.

Amity turned to Luz. “Magic still in place?”

“Yup,” Luz confirmed. “All good.”

“Okay,” Amity said. “Then I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” said Luz.

And Amity was gone.

* * *

Today was not going well.

Because she’d missed so much school, she had a pile the size of a planet of catch-up work to do. Plus Willow wasn’t in her Plant Magic class, and they were doing partner work, so she’d been stuck with two people that didn’t believe humans could do magic and screamed at her in horror and disgust when she showed them a glyph to prove them wrong. Other than that, her brain was so full of trying to come up with solutions, and reasons, and why was Amity mad at her that she’d been caught out not paying attention on several occasions. Conclusion: her head was throbbing with overexertion, and she was emotional, and tired, and far too ready to go home.

Exhausted, the first thing Luz did when lunch came was settle her head onto the desk and groan. She didn’t even know if she could walk all the way to the cafeteria, it seemed so far. Willow and Gus could eat without her. She could sleep, and then maybe this afternoon’s lessons wouldn’t be as bad as the morning.

“Miss Noceda?” She lifted her head with great effort to see one of the Beast Keeping teachers, Mr Tuskbrook, enter the room.

“Sorry, do you need the classroom?” She asked. “I can go,”

“No,” he said, coming towards her. “I was actually looking for you.”

Luz’s senses immediately sharpened, and she straightened her back, looking at him. She’d never particularly liked Mr Tuskbrook – he was large in the shoulders, with mottled skin that was deep purple and a large mouth full of teeth, and had a reputation for getting angry and yelling at (particularly female) students when they didn’t do just as he said. There used to be a running student joke that he could blend in with the beasts he was teaching his classes to summon – when he found out, he yelled at each of his classes until he was out of air and half of them had burst into tears.

In his lessons, Luz tried to keep to herself.

“Oh?” She said neutrally, inviting him to elaborate.

“Yes,” he took a seat in front of her, putting a folder on the desk between them and opening it up. “I see you’ve missed around a week’s worth of lesson time.”

“That’s not true,” Luz protested. Sure, she’d… missed a bit, but it wasn’t a week.

“Are you calling me a liar, Miss Noceda?”

“…no.”

“Good. Well, as the school’s academic advisor, it’s my job to visit our most… troubled students, see what’s causing this lapse, and get you back on track. So,” he peered at her over his folder. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Luz said. Shame had begun to coat her skin, pushing inwards, making her want to curl up and be alone. She wasn’t a troubled student. She didn’t need help. The memories those words brought up made her skin tight with discomfort, with humiliation.

“Really?” He looked at the numbers on the folder again, all muddled upside-down gibberish to Luz. “Well, that’s certainly not true. Your grades say you’re dipping quite badly.”

“I’ll do better,” she said, a hint of desperation in her tone. She wanted him gone – she didn’t want to talk about this. Not now. Not today.

Her breaths became tight in her chest, like a compress was preventing her lungs from expanding.

“Miss Noceda,” he said, voice raising slightly in volume, “I do not appreciate students raising their voice at me.”

She couldn’t even squeak out a sorry.

“Now,” he cleared his throat, irritation pulsating off of him in waves. “Myself and the other staff are wondering if you’re doing badly because of your… unconventional class route. I still remember a few years ago when you and a few others spearheaded that little fight. Do you think maybe so many classes was as unwise decision?”

“No!” Luz said. Her and the detention squad had fought to take the classes they’d wanted to – she wouldn’t let her own incompetence be the reason that fell through.

“Then perhaps your own incompetence is to blame,” he said, mirroring Luz’s own thoughts. “Maybe we should take you off some classes – pick you a single major.”

The shame lit like a spark, and suddenly it was anger coursing through her chest. “No!” she yelled, standing suddenly. “I’m not incompetent! I’m just- it’s just-“

“How dare you yell at me!” He stood too, yelling, and she drew back to avoid his spittle. When he yelled like this, she had a perfect view of the sharp, long teeth bulging out of his mouth. “I have half a mind to send you to Principal Bump for this disrespect!”

“Do it!” She yelled back, refusing to back down. The anger inside her was like gasoline, growing by the second.

“I will!” He said. “Go. Now. And you should consider which track you want to take, because I’m withdrawing you from Beast Keeping.”

All at once the anger shrivelled up, and Luz watched as Mr Tuskbrook snapped his folder shut. “Go, now.” He said, voice seething. “Principal Bump’s office.”

Gulping, Luz grabbed her bag, slinging it over one shoulder, and walked out of the classroom.

* * *

She’d been in Principal Bump’s office a handful of times, and had watched it only a couple times more – but unwillingness to talk and meet eye contact had her scanning the room with feigned interest, keeping away from Principal Bump’s stare.

“Eda is on her way,” he said, half to himself, Luz assumed. “We’ll talk about your behaviour as soon as she gets here.”

Luz hummed her acknowledgement, not turning to look at Bump. She’d had enough of anger being directed at her for one day, she thought. Anymore and she might burst into tears.

Eda had to come and speak to Bump. Eda had to interrupt her day to come and take care of Luz. Eda, who was busy and worried and had a life that Luz had stolen from her when she first came into the Boiling Isles.

That word – burden – twisted around in her mind, snaking its way through her ears and into her skull, where it embedded itself besides her pulse, a constant, thrumming reminder.

At that moment, a knock on the door sounded, followed by Eda’s entrance. “Hi,” she said, shutting the door behind her and rushing to take a seat. “Sorry I took so long.”

“It’s fine,” Bump’s tone was clipped, and Luz tried her best not to flinch. “I assume Mr Tuskbrook briefed you on why you’re here?”

“Yup,” said Eda, much to carefree for the anger she was most definitely feeling. “That’s my girl.”

“Excuse me?” Bump asked.

“Well, she stood up to a teacher for what she believes in.” Eda reached over to place a hand on Luz’s forearm, rubbing comfortingly for a second. “In my books, that isn’t a bad thing.”

“Miss Clawthorne,” Bump began. “Luz yelled at a member of staff for no reason, when he was trying to help. As you know, she’s missed a great deal of class recently.”

“Alright,” said Eda. “Have you heard Luz’s side of the story?”

Bump blinked, appalled. “No. She attacked one of our most important staff members. Her side of the issue does not matter. Besides, it’s to be expected.”

“What?” Eda asked, offence obvious.

“Well,” Bump let a hint of pride enter his voice as having affected Eda. “Skipping classes? Yelling at teachers? This is all learned behaviour from you.”

Eda’s lips pursed in thinly veiled irritation, and she was about to speak when Luz interrupted.

“I did that all myself,” Luz said. “The yelling. The skipping. You should punish me – not take it out on my guardian like a petty child.”

Bump’s jaw dropped. Luz felt anger again, a coil that seemed to ignite itself far more readily than she’d ever experienced before. “And while you’re at it, tell that teacher he can stuff his Beast Keeping classes up his ass. I always hated those, anyway.”

“That’s my girl,” Eda repeated, chuckling.

“You –“ For a moment, Bump was speechless. “You’re suspended. Until further notice. At Hexside, students learn respect and discipline. I will not be inviting you back until I have evaluated whether you are able to show either of those.”

Eda sucked in a long breath. “Alright,” she said. “Guess that’s our cue to leave. Come on, Luz.”

“Fine,” Luz stood, grabbing her bag and leaving first.

She practically stomped down the hallways full of still-full classes, lunch now long-finished. Eda had to hurry to catch her, calling “Luz!” as she did.

“What?” Luz bit out defensively.

“Just wait for me,” Eda said. “You’re not in heels – I need a little longer.” She bent over, catching her breath. “I just wanted to tell you not to worry; Bump did that whole spiel on me when I was here, and he always brought me back. I was the star Grudgby player, after all – and, well, I guess you’re the star human, so it’s similar enough –“

“Eda, stop,” Luz said. “Can we just go home?”

“…Sure,” said Eda.

They walked to the front entrance in silence, Luz getting colder with every step that passed. Hooty was waiting outside, whistling somehow with his beak, and he let out an exclamation of excitement and immediately began babbling when he saw the two of them.

Luz didn’t hear a word, as she got onto Hooty’s back. The wind that had made her feel free on the journey there now cooled her further, turning her body into a block of ice. The anger was gone – replaced by regret, and sadness. Her dream was to study magic, and yet she’d thrown it all away because of one bad day. She might never get to go back to Hexside – where she’d fought so hard to study.

The tears that she’d been anticipating all day finally began falling. Luz wiped at a couple furiously, no doubt leaving marks on her skin, but they continued to spill over uncontrollably. Spirits, how embarrassing this was; Eda was right in front of her, watching her fall apart.

A small part of her imagined she deserved this. This was karma – taking away her place at school, her dignity, everything she’d worked for. Well, it worked. She was being thoroughly humbled.

They arrived at the Owl House, and Luz willed the tears to subside, if only momentarily, as she hopped off Hooty. The door opened, silent for once, and they walked back into the house.

“Luz,” Eda started, voice soft, and full of sympathy, and so unbearable right now that it made Luz want to throw something at the wall. “We need to talk.”

“No,” she said, stony cold, walking towards the stairs, where she began to take them quickly. “Just leave me alone!”

She reached her room and shut the door, banging her head against it a few times (enough to feel an ache in her forehead that she probably deserved, too) before she jumped onto her bed, grabbing the pillow to muffle her sobs.

* * *

A couple hours later, the front door opened, and Luz heard muffled greetings of Amity’s arrival home. In comparison to the social party they had going on downstairs, it was silent and lonely up in Luz’s bedroom.

She braced herself for someone to come and check in on her – ask if she was alright, let her finally vent all her feelings and cry all her tears and pour her heart on the floor. Part of her resented the idea, but another, instinctual part, expected it. It was what her mom would do. It was what she would do.

She waited five minutes. Ten. Thirty. Time stretched on… and nobody came.

Chapter 21: hiding

Chapter Text

There was a boulder on Luz’s chest, it felt like. A huge, hulking rock, pressing her sadness-leftovers from the night before deep into her body. Despite it, she was free to breathe easily, but somewhat resented each steady inhale she made, each exhale into the open air. It wasn’t dispelling any of her feelings – not like those yoga meditations her abuela used to do with her when she was little. Instead, they made her remember that she was alive, and all the mistakes she’d made the day before were real, and inescapable, and she’d have to deal with them.

Her tongue felt spongy and dry in her mouth; evidence that she hadn’t slept well. Her ears rang, reminiscent of doors slammed and words of her incompetency yelled in her face. Her body (she took the time, the mental struggle, to account for each limb, each finger and toe, if only to stall time before facing the music downstairs) was healthy, but a bone-deep exhaustion that started in her head and crawls through the rest of her, scratching down her stomach and into her legs, lingered.

She reminded herself that despite sharing a room, she always wakes up alone. This time was hers, and this time was easier. There was no need to worry about anybody else – she could focus on apologies and acts and burdens and fixing, later. Her eyes opened, slowly under heavy lids, and she squinted slightly at the light. Inhaling came naturally to her body – so did the following exhale. She let herself feel the sensations, and for once feel some semblance of peace, of calm. Maybe it was the tiredness, but she didn’t feel much of anything right now. Not numbness, in its usual sense – but not emotion, either.

Sitting up was, as always, a monumental task that Luz struggled through. A hand came up to wipe at one of her eyes that had gone blurry with sleep, trying to focus in on the room around her. She wondered what time it was. Maybe she needed to stay in bed a while longer – avoid what she’d inevitably have to face when she walked into the communal area. Maybe she could put it off for the rest of the day, even.

“Morning, Luz,” Amity’s voice came from besides her. Luz blinked lazily, before her eyes widened and she snapped them towards the direction of the voice.

Amity was sat on her bed, cradling a mug of something in her hands, watching Luz. “Hey,” Luz said, but it was the first time she’d used her voice and it cracked into a whisper almost immediately.

But Amity only smiled, softly. “I’ve got a glass of water, if you want it. Eda said you didn’t like hot stag beetle juice.”

She outstretched the glass, which Luz took. So that’s what Amity was holding. It sent a pang of remembrance, of nostalgia, almost, through Luz – that’s what Eda had made for Amity when she’d first shown up in the rain.

Luz’s tongue still felt like a dry deadweight at the bottom of her mouth, so she drank the water greedily, easily finishing half the glass before her social awareness kicked back in. She lowered the glass, placing it on the floor besides her bed. Amity was still observing her – did she drool in her sleep? Was there a huge line of it down her chin?

Did Luz even care? The memory of their last few clipped conversations remained fresh in her mind – how Amity had completely pulled away despite Luz’s constant attempts to fix things. How Amity apparently didn’t even care enough about her to come and check on her last night (neither did Eda or King, Luz’s mind helpfully supplied.) Irritation began to make an attempt at clawing its way up her throat, but the exhaustion won out, and it died in her windpipe. She took a moment to breathe in, and then exhaled it straight out.

‘Why are you here?’ Luz wanted to say, but she knew it was too mean. ‘What do you want’, maybe. ‘Why are you watching me?’

“Eda told me about yesterday afternoon,” Amity said, and Luz didn’t even need to ask the question anymore, because everything clicks into place.

Luz scoffed under her breath. Of course Eda would tell Amity. “What did she say?”

“That you got suspended.” Amity said. “That you were upset.”

“I wasn’t upset,” Luz bit out. “Well… I was, but… it’s more complicated than that.”

Was it? Luz had thrown a temper tantrum, because nobody wanted her around, and these were the repercussions. Sure, she was upset. But – she was angry, too, and a whole world of other emotions she didn’t even know how to name.

Plus, hearing Amity reduce it to that made it sound pathetic, when yesterday it had been so …overwhelming. It couldn’t just be ‘upset’ – she hadn’t done all of this, practically ruined her own life, because she was simply ‘upset.’

“Okay,” Amity said as Luz reached for the glass of water, taking another large gulp if only to not have to look at Amity. “Well… how are you?”

Luz swallowed. “How am I?”

“Yeah,” said Amity.

Luz thought over her answer for a moment – attempting to piece words together in an adequate way. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she decided on. Because she didn’t – she wasn’t ready to talk about something she didn’t understand, yet. And especially not with somebody who was a part of why she did what she did (that was unfair, Luz couldn’t help thinking – Amity didn’t plant the seed of anger in Luz’s breakfast that morning and let it grow into her explosion that afternoon. She’d just… aggravated the feelings that were already getting there.)

“Oh,” Amity said. “Um, okay. At all?”

“No,” Luz said. “Just not with you.”

The words came off colder than Luz meant them, but they were still harsh; enough that Amity immediately drew back. Not physically, but Luz could see it in the way she clutched her mug closer to her stomach, reached for the mismatched quilt with one hand, let her eyes dart to the wall behind Luz for a moment to recollect her composure.

Then Amity looked at her again, but it wasn’t the Amity that Luz had taken to the human world all those times – the one that was expressive, and open, and defensive but not towards Luz. This Amity was a shell of that one; a sick ghost of the first time the two of them met, when she was still haughty and withdrawn and top-of-the-class. This Amity had her shields back up – and it made perfect sense why she did.

Luz knew this would happen eventually – she just hadn’t expected this morning to be the final push. She’d been shoving Amity away, it felt, for a long time; waiting for her to start hating Luz as much as Luz hated herself. It hurt; the boulder had sank through skin and flesh and bone, and gouged out a piece of her heart, leaving a bloodied, gaping hole. She loved Amity, for Spirits’ sake. But… it was seeming more and more like Luz was a burden to everybody she met – and if pushing Amity away, having her hate Luz, protected Amity… then maybe it was what was good for her.

She couldn’t explain it – not coherently, at least – but it eased her own hatred of herself, just a little, to know that Amity hated her, too. At least she’d succeeded in something. Perhaps it was because Amity had taken some of the burden of hating Luz off of Luz’s own shoulders. How ironic.

“Okay,” Amity said after a long stretch of uncomfortable silence. “Well, I have to go to school. We’re eating downstairs, if you’re hungry.”

And Amity didn’t even wait for a reply before she left the room – mug discarded, bed messy, and with no idea that Luz felt like her chest was caving inwards.

* * *

It took a while to work up the energy to go downstairs. After properly standing up, the tiredness that once rested behind her eyes and in her head trickled down into the rest of her body. Part of her was glad that she was suspended – at least now she could waste the day away asleep, moping and being useless. She didn’t think about the other part of the suspension (the dangerous words of ‘expulsion’ that seemed to hover over her head) – she wouldn’t.

When she finally trudged down the stairs, footsteps quiet despite the weight on her shoulders, it was to see Amity leaving. There was a moment – where Amity seemed to sense Luz’s presence, and turned in the doorway to her, and their eyes met – if Luz could even call it a ‘moment’. She couldn’t read what Amity was thinking, but there was no warmth in those amber eyes.

Luz wanted to cry. All the progress they’d made since Amity first showed up at the Owl House – gone. All the work, and time, and effort, and care that Luz had put into their relationship, and she’d gone and flushed it away with a number of sentences (on purpose, she reminded herself; although she didn’t know if that made it better or worse.)

And yet, it was for the greater good. It was so Amity could have that mentor-mentee relationship with Eda that used to be Luz’s, and not feel any guilt. It was so Luz knew she wouldn’t force Amity into anything – if Amity could barely look at her, there was no way she was going to figure out that Luz was in love with her. It was so that Amity could continue living as close to her old life as possible. Her old life, before Luz had bulldozed in and ruined everything, like she always did, burdening everybody around her. Not anymore, she reminded herself. Not Amity – you can’t be a burden on somebody who doesn’t care about you.

She’d got everything she wanted. So why did her heart feel like it was ripping out of her chest?

* * *

Luz didn’t feel like she could bear seeing anybody else’s disappointment this morning, so she took her plate of breakfast up to her room, and ate alone.

She knew why her heart was hollow, now. Even when she denied it… she did.

* * *

After breakfast, Luz had climbed back into bed and sulked as the room had gotten brighter with poured-in light. It hadn’t rained in a while (perhaps she had stolen all the doom and gloom, and was carrying it in her body, and there wasn’t enough remaining to create the rain), but the sky was still cloudy and dull. Try as she might, she couldn’t fall back asleep – instead, she occupied herself with a practiced form of self-torture that was going over the conversation of that morning over and over.

She stared at Amity’s side of the room, unmoving. In its empty state, it almost looked peaceful.

The morning was passing far slower than she’d have liked it to – so, with great effort, Luz got out of bed and dragged herself over to the shower. She didn’t know exactly how witch-suspension worked (she could ask Eda, but… not yet. Maybe another day.), but she assumed that all that catch up work from the past week still needed to be done, as well as whatever they may or may not set her in relation to current classes she was missing. Even if they didn’t, she knew Willow and Gus would probably fill her in if she asked.

Speaking, on top of everything else, seemed immeasurably difficult, though.

The shower was quick and scorching, and Luz wandered back into her room with reddened-raw skin and bare, dripping feet. She spared a moment to look at her Hexside uniform – discarded the night before when she’d thrown it to the side for her pyjamas – and spared a few seconds to mourn how she may never wear it again.

And then she steeled herself, folding it delicately and tucking it away far enough that it wouldn’t gather dust, just remain undisturbed. It was time to work. Even if she was going to be expelled, this was stuff she had to learn – she’d wanted to learn – and it would allow her to stop thinking so damn much. She could lose herself in work. And maybe, she wondered, that’s what she’d been wanting.

* * *

Claws at her door alerted Luz of King’s presence. Work had consumed her for however long (she wasn’t exactly in possession of a clock, and her window only got direct sunlight for a few hours each morning, so it was an unreliable time source), which had been what she’d wanted. But now her back was beginning to ache after hunching over for work, and her eyes blurred every couple of seconds; a sure sign that even if she managed to sit still, her concentration had been wavering, and she was definitely making mistakes.

Plus, her leg had been shaking, itching with the immobility, for at least an hour. She figured she’d needed a break a long time ago.

“Luz?” King asked, muffled through the wooden door.

Luz spared herself a moment, sucking in a breath, before calling in response, “yeah?”

That was all the invitation King needed, because he opened the door and invited himself straight in. King used to sleep in here, too – before Amity needed a bed, and King was relocated to downstairs. “Luz!” King called, waddling over to her. “You missed lunch!”

She looked out the window – it did appear the sun was overhead, because the Owl House was beginning to have a slight shadow. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”

“I can’t carry food up the stairs,” King continued, “so you have to come down and eat with us.”

“I thought I missed lunch,” Luz said.

“Well so did Eda – so we can all eat together now!” He said.

“Alright,” Luz said, eyes narrowing but still closing up her work. “Just give me a minute up here. I’ll follow you down.”

Satisfied, King went back downstairs, leaving Luz to position her work in a way that she’d hopefully be enticed to pick it back up when she finished eating. This, she realized, was what she’d been dreading and distracting herself from all morning – a discussion with Eda. An interaction with Eda, even, felt a little like too much. Because she knew Eda – she’d lived with her for two years, now, and that was long enough to learn how her mentor ticked. Eda, as much as she suppressed it, was a problem-solver. And right now, she was definitely thinking that Luz was a ‘problem’ that needed to be ‘fixed.’

She walked down the stairs, to see Eda in the living room, waiting for her. “Luz,” she said, a soft smile on her face. “Hey.”

“Hey, Eda,” Luz said, arms itching to cross over her chest. “What’s up?”

“I just want to talk with you,” she said. “You’re hungry?”

“Yup,” Luz smiled, although it was more of a wince. A meal meant an extended period of time where she’d have to sit, and listen, and be analysed, with no escape. She should’ve just skipped lunch.

They made their way to the table in the kitchen, each taking a seat (and it felt, for a moment, like it had felt all that time ago, before Amity had come to live with them.) There was already food on the table, and Luz immediately began eating, not wanting to talk.

A cold sweat had already seized her, and discomfort, like static, sat on top of her skin, skating back and forth. Eda and King both sat, too, but Luz didn’t bother looking up to acknowledge them.

“Okay,” Eda said. “So; first thing’s first, Luz, is that I’m not mad at you.”

Luz swallowed her food. “You’re not?”

“Nope,” Eda grinned that wolfish grin. “As I said yesterday, I was always up to shenanigans at Hexside, too. And what’s a little suspension when you’ve got the best witch-teacher ever right here anyway?” She gestured to herself.

“And the best study partner!” King piped up. That drew a small smile from Luz.

“But,” Eda said, causing Luz to clam up, “I just want to know what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Luz said, voice clipped and quiet, stuffing more food into her mouth.

“This isn’t like you, Luz,” Eda continued, “And if you just told me what was wrong, I could help you. I could fix this.”

Luz shook her head. She ate more.

“You’re not a troublemaker,” said Eda. “You’re like me in so many ways, but not like that – I was only a troublemaker because I was unhappy. Are you unhappy? Is that what’s wrong?”

“Stop, please,” Luz said quietly.

But Eda either didn’t hear her, or didn’t listen. “Because I can fix so much, Luz, if only you’d let me in. We can work through all of it together – for you, I have all the time in the world. Just… please, Luz.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Luz said over half a mouthful of food, voice wobbling. It seemed to only spur Eda on.

“You used to trust me, Luz,” she said. “Has that changed? Didn’t you used to think I was the greatest witch in the Boiling Isles?”

“Eda,” Luz said again. “Please.”

And Eda seemed to deflate. “I’m sorry,” she said, “if it’s me that’s the problem. I love you – and I just want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy, okay?”

“I know,” Luz nodded. “I just – it’s-“

She felt tears coming on embarrassingly quickly, and attempting to blink them away was futile. “I have to go,” she said, standing suddenly. Luz moved to go back up to her bedroom, but Eda was there in an instant.

“It’s okay,” Eda was saying, and Luz felt heat crawling up her neck, and suddenly she just couldn’t be in this house anymore. She pivoted, heading straight to the front door and swinging it open before a coherent thought made its way through her head.

“Luz!” Eda called, more panic in her voice now, but Luz had already stepped outside. “Luz, wait!”

“I can’t!” Luz said, turning to Eda. One of her tears slipped down her cheek, causing the rest of them to begin. “I’m sorry… I can’t talk about it right now.”

“You can’t leave,” Eda said. “It’s… it’s dangerous.”

“What, because I’m not a real witch?”

“No!” Eda hurried to say. “Because you’re my kid, and I’m scared for you.”

Luz sucked in a shaky breath. The wound she’d caused that morning – the gaping, bleeding hole in her heart – seemed to poke itself until it began a steadier ache in her chest. “I…” she trailed off. “Let me go.”

“Luz…” Eda said.

“I promise I’ll come back – and when I do, we’ll talk.”

“Promise?”

Luz let a half smile come onto her face. She’d taught Eda the meaning of promise – the human meaning of promise – a long time ago. She didn’t even know whether Eda paid attention when Luz rambled on about the human world; apparently, she did.

“I promise,” she said.

Eda nodded, although her face betrayed her, lips slipping into a frown and eyes pinched with tears. “Alright,” she said. “I’ll be waiting. I love you.”

* * *

When she’d set out from the Owl House, she hadn’t exactly had a planned route to walk. ‘Spontaneity’, some would call it – Luz preferred ‘annoying’, but it meant that she’d found her way into the forest and was just picking her way through the plants. Her feelings were a jumble of overwhelming that she didn’t want to think about, for fear that she’d simply start crying again, and she’d forgotten to grab shoes when she left, so her feet were scratched and stinging and covered in mud.

Her stomach continued to grumble, too, as if the rest of her circ*mstances weren’t bad enough – a reminder that she hadn’t finished her lunch. Which was, of course, a reminder of lunch. Of the conversation Eda had with her, and her severe avoidance tactic.

(Of Eda, calling Luz ‘her kid’ and telling Luz that she loved her. Why hadn’t Luz said it back, when she had the chance?)

This walk was supposed to help her cool down, get her feelings in order. It didn’t seem to be working.

She didn’t know where this forest led; it stretched far beyond anything she could see, and she’d just picked a direction and started walking. She figured, if you only walk in one direction, there wasn’t any way she could get lost – when she wanted to go home, Luz could just turn 180 and go straight back the way she came.

When she left, she’d promised Eda that they would talk. But what would she say? How could she word things? She’d been walking for hours (it felt like hours, at least, and through the thick foliage she could tell the light was coming from halfway down the sky), and no words had come yet. No convenient plan of how to iterate her emotions, and her problems, to Eda. None that wouldn’t leave Eda hating her, too.

Why did it all have to be so damned complicated?

An exit to the forest – light, and open space – seemed to appear in front of Luz, and her eyebrows drew together. Surely she hadn’t been walking that long as to get to the other side… right?

Curious, she walked towards it, until she was standing on an open patch of trimmed grass on what looked to be a ginormous estate. This must be somebody’s house.

Aware that she was probably trespassing, Luz turned to make her way back – it was probably time to start heading back, anyway – only to find that the forest wasn’t there anymore. She turned again, checking all around her, sure she was mistaken.

Nothing. No forest as far as the eye could see, nothing but the trimmed grass and a house, in the distance. And two people, walking towards her, their figures small from the distance.

Luz blinked, and they were closer. A woman and a man – the woman’s arm linked under then man’s elbow. She blinked again and they were closer, still.

“Luz,” Mrs Blight said when she got close enough that Luz could recognise her. A cold feeling swept Luz’s body in its entirety at her chilled voice. “Hello, dear. You’re just the person we were expecting.”

Chapter 22: the road to recovery

Chapter Text

There was a clock, somewhere in the Blight living room that Luz couldn’t see, that was ticking so incessantly, it was getting on Luz’s nerves. It was the only noise in the awkward silence that had overcome the room ever since Luz sat down, opposite Mr and Mrs Blight. Seriously, who had a hidden clock for the sake of the ticking, when it was meant to tell the time?

The armchair that she was seated on, opposite them, was obviously expensive, and she felt all of a sudden like a ball of mud, getting it dirty. She had, after all, just been walking barefoot in a forest.

An abomination – huge, hulking, much larger than any she’d ever seen in class – had served her tea with shaky arms, and then turned around to give some to Mrs Blight. She was wearing a polite, sharp grin, that Luz suspected wouldn’t flinch even if she splashed her tea straight in Mrs Blight’s face. Apparently, she didn’t mind this silence between them, filled by a ticking, invisible clock, and now the abomination’s squelching footsteps. Maybe she thought it was an intimidation tactic.

Luz wasn’t feeling very intimidated. Shocked, at first – of course she was shocked, Mrs Blight had appeared out of thin air. Angry, that she’d let herself get caught like this, at that inopportune moment, at the situation itself. But she spared a thought to how these two adults had done something so bad that they’d forced Amity to run away, and found a burning need to be disobedient, inconvenient to them. Ruin their days, maybe.

She was kind of glad that she had trekked mud all over their perfectly polished floors.

She also couldn’t help the thought – it had come unbidden, like most of her thoughts often did – that the layout of the room was just sort of… awkward. Here she was, in an armchair, directly facing a long sofa that seated both Mr and Mrs Blight. Above their heads, there was a family portrait. No sane person decorated their rooms like this; nobody set up their main room like it was supposed to house a job interview. Had they rearranged their living room just for little old her?

After the abomination finished serving tea, it trudged over to the corner of the room, where it straightened up and went still, like some sort of guard (probably meant to be intimidating, but Luz wanted to laugh that the Blights were scared of her.) She watched as Mrs Blight took a sip of her tea, humming slightly, before placing it onto a table besides the sofa she and her husband were currently occupying. She looked up, and met Luz’s eyes. Hers were a similar bright shade to Amity’s, except they were a blue-ish hue, and were much colder. They held the eye contact for several long, ticking moments. Luz refused to blink, or to look away.

So Mrs Blight wouldn’t be speaking first, she took it. She’d have to take the initiative.

“What do you want with me?” Luz asked. Her teacup was hot in her hands, and she wished they’d rearranged the room more conveniently for her – put a table, or a lamp stand, or something, besides her to rest the teacup on.

Mrs Blight’s eyes sparked at Luz’s words, as if she’d won something. “We know you’re keeping our daughter hostage,” she said in the same sneering tone she’d used on Principal Bump. “We just want her back.”

“Your daughter ran away,” Luz said, sipping her tea. “Nobody’s keeping her hostage.”

“Did she?” Mrs Blight tilted her head in question. “I see no evidence that she ran away. All I know is that one day she was missing, and a few days later, somebody broke in and stole her items. Doesn’t sound very voluntary, on Amity’s part.”

“Is it really stealing?” Luz asked, more to herself than anything. “I mean, they’re her things. And it’s her house – so it isn’t breaking in, either.”

“You came in through the window.” Mrs Blight bit out.

“We were playing a game. You know –“ Luz narrowed her eyes slightly. “Like teenagers do.”

Mrs Blight huffed out a breath, but her composure didn’t drop. (Luz would have to work on that a little harder.) “So you deny she’s at… that Owl Shack of yours?”

“Of mine?” Luz asked, voice overly dripping with exaggerated pride. “I wouldn’t call it mine, I mean it’s Eda’s house; but I have lived there a while, so I suppose it’s –“

“Stop.” Luz frowned as she obeyed, like it was some command rather than her choice. “You don’t want to test my patience, Luz. My husband and I,” she gestured over to Mr Blight, who seemed to zone in at that exact moment and give Luz a smile. That sent a jolt of confusion through her. His smile looked… genuine. He looked like a nice person, unlike his wife. “… are very interested in getting her back, considering she is our daughter.”

She’d thought both of Amity’s parents were royal dickwads.

Blinking out of her moment of distraction, Luz focussed back in on Mrs Blight. “Why don’t you speak to her directly?” Luz challenged. “Have you not been able to reach her?”

“Alador and I are very aware that Amity has been… known to make a scene,” said Mrs Blight. “We’d like her here, so we can have a civil conversation – something I’m not sure your lot know how to do.”

“My lot?” Luz asked. “And who’s that?”

“You know,” Mrs Blight leant forwards, slightly. “Criminals. Dropouts. Humans.”

“Interesting, that you’d lump your daughter in with us misfits, then,” Luz set the tea down on the floor, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest.

Mrs Blight shrugged. “Amity’s developed a rebellious streak. Typical, for children as young as she is. But I expect she’ll come to her senses soon enough.”

“Then why am I here?” Luz asked.

“I know you have influence over her. I know you’re manipulating her to stay.”

“I’m not manipulating her!” Luz exclaimed. “She chooses to stay with us.”

A moment passed, of ticking, as a wave of realization settled over Luz. She’d just said – she’d just confirmed –

“So she is with you,” said Mrs Blight arrogantly, sipping at her tea. “Well, unfortunately, we’re going to need her back.”

Shame was quick to burn Luz. How had she let herself slip that badly?

“That isn’t my decision,” Luz said. f*ck, f*ck, f*ck.

“But I think it is,” Mrs Blight said. “Aren’t you and your Owl Lady keeping Amity there?”

“She’s not a hostage!” Luz’s voice raised, without her permission. “She can come and go as she chooses – unlike here.”

“Unlike here?” asked Mrs Blight. “Are you sure? What has Amity told you about her life here?”

Luz’s mind pulled a blank. Not much, if she was being honest. It had all been context clues and second-hand information. Amity had barely told her anything about what it was like to live at the Blight Manor… besides unbearable enough that she had to run away.

“That doesn’t matter.” Luz said. “Don’t you worry that you pushed your daughter enough that she had to run away?”

“She didn’t have to,” Mrs Blight said. “Amity knows social etiquette. This is just some teenage temper tantrum that she’ll get over in a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?” Luz asked, defensiveness for her friend, for the situation, seeping into her tone. She was losing control, losing her cool, far more quickly than she could’ve imagined. “She’s been gone months. This isn’t some phase.”

“I disagree.” Mrs Blight held up her nails, manicured perfectly, to examine. “And, well, excuse me if I don’t take my advice from a human.”

“Don’t you care?” Luz exploded, anger at Amity’s parents finally unable to be contained. “Don’t you care about your daughter?”

Her eyes turned to Amity’s father – Alador – but he wasn’t even looking at her. He didn’t even seem to be paying attention. He didn’t care, she realized distantly. Not enough to intervene.

“Of course we care,” Mrs Blight said coldly, controlled.

“Then show it,” Luz spat out.

“I assume you think we’re bad parents?” Mrs Blight asked, hands linking as they settled on her lap. Luz scoffed. “Well, would bad parents look this far, this wide, for their beloved daughter?”

“I don’t think good parents would drive their daughter away,” Luz grumbled.

“And I don’t think you have any right to an opinion. Where are your parents, Luz?”

Defensiveness crawled up her spine. “Can I leave?” Luz asked, suddenly much more uncomfortable with the situation than before. She’d come in here, all co*cky, expecting to control the situation – but now, all she’d done is ruin things. She’d let them know where Amity was, and now…

Mrs Blight’s eyes widened with a superficial sweetness that made Luz feel sick. “Oh,” she began, “but we’ve been having such a good discussion.”

“You can’t keep me here,” Luz got up, accidentally knocking the now-cold tea she’d placed on the floor, over. “I have things to do.”

“Really? But weren’t you recently suspended?”

“How do you know that?”

Mrs Blight stood, too – she wasn’t particularly tall, but Luz could feel a drip of cold fear running down her throat. The abomination, still stood in the back corner, was suddenly a lot more terrifying than it had been before.

“I’m only teasing,” she said, placing a hand on Luz’s shoulder that caused her to barely suppress a flinch. “But it is raining outside, let me walk you home.”

Luz got a moment to register Mrs Blight’s words before the touch, as well as the room around her, disappeared. For a moment, she was nowhere at all, unable to feel her hands or face or hear anything besides the harsh winds at her ears.

And then she was right outside the Owl House. Ready to knock on the door.

The rain was burning everything around her, and her breath was gone from her body, leaving her gasping for it. She barely kept back a gag; there was no food to expel. She distantly registered that she was shaking, from head to toe it felt – whether it was from the acid biting into her bare feet, or the cold, or the shock…

The door swung open, and it was Amity in the doorway. “Luz?” she asked. And, although she’d been so distant that morning, after Luz had f*cked everything up, she looked… concerned. Shocked, maybe. Like she didn’t know what to do with her.

Luz didn’t know what to do with herself, either. Only that she suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.

And she did.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Luz choked out repeatedly as she was ushered into the Owl House. Her feet ached, with leftover scratches and acid bites, and she was a mess of tears and snot and trying to hide it all was futile, because her head was already somehow buried in Eda’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Someone was handing her tissues – tissues she took gratefully, as she shivered in her own skin, using it first to tend to her face, and then to her feet, where leftover acid still burnt. “f*ck,” someone muttered, and then the tissues were taken from her, and she was being lifted, onto the couch.

“Sorry,” she mumbled again, gasping for air. She was so cold. She didn’t want to open her eyes – see who was helping her. See who she was embarrassing herself in front of, like this.

Hands began carding through her hair. Words she couldn’t register were being mumbled into her temple, the breath warm. A blanket was draped around her shoulders, and it provided momentary refuge from the cold, but not from the shaking of her body.

Another presence; at her back, this time, frantically adjusting the blanket on her shoulders, before arms wrapped around her. This presence was warm; this presence felt safer.

But, hunched over like this, she couldn’t breathe. She fought for each breath she sucked in harshly, feeling a little like death. Is this what death felt like?

“Breathe,” somebody was saying. Eda. Couldn’t she see that she was trying?

The hands at her back let go, and it offered slight relief, although now she could feel the shaking even more, rattling into her bones. “Sorry,” she wheezed out again.

“Don’t be,” Eda said. “Sshh. It’s alright.”

Slowly, everything began coming back into focus. The body she was practically curled around, that had been whispering to her, was Eda. Behind her, Amity sat, paralysed after draping a blanket around Luz. King was tugging at her leg, silently, offering comfort in the only way he knew he could.

She opened her eyes. They stung.

“I –“ she started, then pulled away from Eda to cough harshly into her elbow. “Amity – you –“

Eda pulled Luz into a tight hug, and she stopped in her tracks. “Wait a minute,” she said, one hand frantically brushing through Luz’s hair, the other cradling her like a baby. “Catch your breath. It’s all alright.”

Luz’s palms dug into her eyes, rubbing harshly. “No,” she said. “I – I was just at the Blight Manor.”

“What?” Amity said from behind her. Luz turned, and in the back of her mind, recognised the pattern of the blanket on her shoulders as she did (quilted. Huh. Hadn’t this been on Amity’s bed?) “Why?”

“It wasn’t by choice,” Luz said. “I was walking in the forest… and I blinked… and she’d like, transported me.”

“Oracle magic,” Eda shivered. “Never been good at it myself.”

“What did they say?” Amity asked. “My parents?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Luz turned fully, forgetting that she probably looked like crap, with puffy eyes and splotchy skin and tear-tracks down her cheeks. She took Amity’s hands in her own (and Amity’s hands were warmer than her own, for once.) “They know you’re here. I – I let it slip – I’m sorry,”

Her voice had started to crack, and King jumped up onto the couch, finding a seat in her lap and half-heartedly hugging her torso. “Not your fault,” Eda said. “We’ve been anticipating this – remember?”

Luz hiccupped in another breath, arms wrapping around King as if he were a cuddly toy. He barely protested, instead wriggling until he was comfortable.

“You’re right,” Amity said. “I’m just… scared.”

“I’m so sorry, Amity,” Luz said. “I didn’t mean to tell them… I just…”

“It’s okay,” Amity said. “I mean, Emira said they probably knew, anyway. They’re just biding their time for some reason. I think they think I’ll come back on my own.”

Luz nodded. “They kept saying all this stuff… that we were manipulating you, holding you hostage…”

“No!” Amity exclaimed, making Luz wince. “Sorry. But – you have to know that’s not true.”

Luz’s mind flitted to this morning – to when she’d manipulated Amity into hating her. To all the times before that, where she’d been too forwards, too obvious about her feelings, making Amity uncomfortable. Was it not the same thing?

After too long of Luz not answering, Eda jumped in, offering a, “we know, kid. Luz is just… shaken, right now.”

“Sorry,” Luz said. Again.

“Stop apologising,” Amity responded.

“Okay,” Eda cut into Luz’s attempt to apologise again, adjusting herself a little on the sofa. “So. The Blight parentals know.”

“Yeah,” Luz said, shakily. “I’m so-“

“Nope,” Amity and Eda chorused simultaneously, shutting Luz up effectively.

“We gotta deal with this. Where’s Emira?”

“She left. On her trek, again.” Amity answered.

“Well, dang. She could’ve been our inside gal. Alright; let’s assess this, calmly.”

Luz sucked in a breath, attempting to rein in her shaking, her lack of control over her body, so that she could contribute to the conversation. Fix the mess that she’d created. “They haven’t come here before,” she said, voice wobbling awkwardly.

“They wouldn’t dare be seen here. They’d send their lackeys – like… Lilith.”

Eda reached out behind Luz to place a hand on Amity’s arm, thumb rubbing softly, comfortingly. “Okay. So we’re safe-ish here, for now. Don’t forget, you’ve got the best witch in all the Boiling Isles on your side.”

Amity let out a small breath of amusem*nt. “But they could come to the school again.”

“That’s why we’re doing your illusion magic,” Eda stated. “Although that’s only for going in and out… if they catch you in class…”

“We need to go to them,” Amity said. “It’s ok. They won’t leave you all alone unless I talk to them; give them a little of they want.”

“Nobody’s making you do that.” Eda shook her head.

“I know. But… I think I have to.” Amity’s face set with concrete resolution. “I’ll tell them to leave me alone, and then… happily ever after?”

Eda let out a snort. “Alright, kid. But we’re all coming with you.”

“Oh, thank Titan,” Amity said, a small smile on her face. “I’ll probably need the courage.”

Luz watched as Eda squeezed Amity’s arm, before standing up. “Right! I’m in the mood for human drinks – what was that thing, Luz? Warm chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate,” Luz said.

“They’re the same thing! Warm, hot.”

Luz shrugged. “Humans are weird.”

Amity got up, too, and Luz turned to her. “You’re not staying?” She asked.

Amity shook her head. “I’ve… got some thinking to do. And, y’know, homework.”

“Right,” Luz nodded. “Then… I’ll see you?”

Her tone was hopeful. Amity thought about it for a second, before nodding. “Night,” she said, heading off.

“Alright, King,” said Luz, looking down at him. “It’s just me and you.”

King was completely conked out. Huh. She deposited the blanket off of her shoulders, carrying him to his little nest of blankets in the corner of the room.

Finally alone, Luz sunk into the back of the sofa. She had the sort of headache she only got after she’d been crying, right at the front of her head, and her eyes felt rubbed raw. Luz had always been an ugly crier, and after she was done, the evidence didn’t fade for hours. That specific set of information made her cringe internally, at what she probably looked like.

Eda resurfaced from the kitchen, two mugs in her hands. Luz accepted hers gratefully, bringing it close to her in a half-hearted attempt to steal its warmth. She shut her eyes momentarily as Eda sat softly besides her, letting out a long, calm exhale.

“Hey, kid,” Eda said. “Remember the deal we made?”

She blinked her eyes open. No, she hadn’t; in all the mess of the afternoon, she’d completely forgotten their agreement. “Yeah?”

“I know you’re a little tired right now, but if you’re up for it, I’d love to have that conversation.”

Luz half-tensed in anticipation for a wave of defensiveness, of fear, to overtake her body at the prospect of dealing with her emotions. But instead, as she let herself takes a sip of the hot chocolate (too little cocoa powder), she found that it didn’t come. Instead, she felt… safe. Whether it was the exhaustion, or just the relaxing presence of Eda besides her – Luz let herself breathe. Takes her time with herself.

“Okay,” she said. And she began to talk.

* * *

Amity Blight was not an eavesdropper. She did everything the way it was meant to be done – from preparing breakfast, to homework, to social interactions. Eavesdropping didn’t exactly… fit in with her memo.

But she couldn’t help but stick around, halfway up the stairs, when Eda had finally asked Luz the question she’d been dying over for the past couple of months – ‘what’s going on with you?’

Nosiness isn’t an attractive trait. Amity finds that she doesn’t much care.

She’d sat, a hand over her mouth, tears brimming at her eyes, as Luz laid out her soul, bare, and everything she’d been going through, for Eda. She knew this conversation wasn’t for her – but after Luz had acted this morning, like she didn’t care about Amity at all (and what had happened, she’d wondered, to the Luz that had tried to kiss her? That had cared enough to speak to her when she was feeling bad, and show her around the human world; the Luz that Amity had fallen for?), she’d needed an explanation. And, well – an explanation was exactly what she’d gotten.

Afterwards, when Luz had finished crying (and Eda’s tears had stopped, too), and they’d fallen into a comfortable, if a little heavy with emotion, silence, she’d made her way back down; perhaps to apologise to Luz, for making her feel that way, like she wasn’t welcome in her own home.

Instead, she found Luz asleep on Eda’s shoulder.

“Amity,” Eda greeted, voice weak because she’d just been crying. Amity met her eyes, and a moment of understanding passed between them – that Amity had heard the conversation, and had been just as moved, as upset with herself for not interfering sooner, as Eda was.

“Is she asleep?” Amity asked, rather than addressing the conversation. It felt like a little too much. More than any of them could handle, at the moment.

Eda nodded. “Completely knocked out. I think she went through all the emotions in the book today. No wonder she’s exhausted.”

Amity let out a sigh, coming to sit in the corner of the couch she always occupied, now. When Luz had just… been there, when she’d opened the door, Amity’s brain had short-circuited, and she hadn’t been able to move as Luz broke down in front of her, collapsing and sobbing. It had taken Eda, half-shoving her out of the way, and pulling Luz into the house, into the safety and the warmth, that had knocked her out of her stupor.

Luz. Strong, brave, intelligent, empathetic Luz… crying. It still felt like there was a stone pressing her heart down, dislodging it from its rightful place in her chest.

“Do you…” Amity started; she had to ask. “Do you think I’m a burden?”

“What?” Eda asked, before remembering that Luz was sleeping in her arms, and quieting. “No, Amity. Of course not.”

“But… don’t you miss how it was before?”

Eda shrugged, honestly mulling over the answer. “I couldn’t be happier that you’re safe, and that you’re here,” she finally decided on. “There are moments, of course, where I miss being alone, or just being with Luz – but it’s not your fault she pulled away so much that all of that stopped, is it?”

“I guess…” Amity mumbled.

“Hey,” Eda met her eyes. “I don’t need two kids getting all insecure on me today, alright? I love having you with us, Amity. If you’re gonna have this crisis, can you schedule it for another day?”

Amity let out a soft laugh, eyes dropping to where her hands were fidgeting in her lap. “Is she…” she began, looking over at Luz’s face. It was relaxed with sleep, now, but there were still tell-tale tear tracks as a reminder of what had happened mere hours ago. “Is she gonna be alright?”

Eda nodded. “I think so. Luz is a tough one, don’t you know?”

And she did know that. Every hardship Luz had faced before, she’d overcome purely with her own mental strength. This wasn’t any different.

“I know.”

Chapter 23: whatever the weather

Chapter Text

“So, what are we doing today?”

For the first time in a while, everybody was sat around the table in the kitchen, eating breakfast. Eda was the one to ask – Luz was still suspended (and was trying her best not to think about it, because every time she did, it reminded her that she’d gone and ruined her entire life on purpose, and… well, she didn’t need that reminder in her current mental state.) So, it made sense that Eda was asking. Luz, with all her free time, needed to input her opinion.

She glanced over at Amity. Would it be weird, talking about what they’d do when she wasn’t there?

She’d told Eda about everything that had been happening to her for these past couple of months, but Amity had sort of just been left in the dark. If it was Luz, she’d be overflowing with worry about her friend (friend? More? Less?) But it wasn’t Luz. It was Amity; it was the same Amity that had gathered a reputation for being a stone cold ‘Ice Queen.’ And, after what Luz had pulled, she didn’t doubt that Amity had cut off all feeling about Luz from her heart.

“I don’t know,” said King. “Haven’t you got business?”

“Business isn’t booming right now,” Eda said, “so I’m taking a break. Got a couple errands to run on the side. Luz, you up for that?”

Luz snapped out of what she’d been doing (staring across the table at Amity; embarrassing, if she’d been caught. But luck was on her side – Amity hadn’t looked at her all morning.) “Sure,” she said, trying to put a bit of enthusiasm into her voice. “What kind of errands?”

Eda brightened. “Shopping, mainly. We are running out of human-digestion-friendly foods in this house. Some scavenging, if you want? I remember you used to like that.”

Luz hummed. She did used to like that – way back when she’d first arrived. Last night – after her soul-crushing confessions of how she felt like an outsider, and she’d been feeling it for such a long time – Eda had taken her hand, and promised that she still had a place in this family. Family – and that was the word Eda had used for them, their little mismatched bunch. She’d emphasized that Luz was a part of that, and that she was sorry for making her think any other way.

It wasn’t Eda’s fault – it was just Luz’s brain. It was just like that sometimes.

During the confession, the words ‘I’m in love Amity’ were at the tip of her tongue. But for some strange reason, that was the limit of her emotional capacity for the day. Her throat already felt raw, and so did her insides, with heavy, squelching sadness that didn’t belong in her body and yet had found a home there that she was so used to keeping. Eda already knew anyway, right?

(And Luz didn’t want to think about the day she’d told Eda – the way Eda had tried to comfort her, to explain away all the problems Luz had just outlined, with a look of barely-concealed disapproval. In every hesitation, every breath that lasted a little too long, Luz saw that this wasn’t an issue that Eda could justify for her. So, sue her, she didn’t want to bring that up again.)

“I want some new human books!” King said. “If we find any. Oh, and one of those big balls that you can shake and it gives you answers.”

“You know, I can do Oracle magic,” Eda said. “I can get the answers that you want.”

“It isn’t fun that way, Eda!” King exclaimed. “Let me have my fun!”

The breakfast served this morning looked a little like porridge, and smelled a lot like celery. Usually, Luz could eat it (she wasn’t a big fan of a lot of food in the Boiling Isles, but there were even less options for humans, so she took what she got.) But this morning, her stomach had turned on her at the sight, and now she was mixing it half-heartedly around a bowl, taking a spoonful whenever anybody looked her way.

‘Breakfast is the most important meal!’ she remembered her mom saying. Many times. ‘Eat up! Eat up!’

“You want anything today, Luz?” Eda asked.

Luz set down her spoon. “Uh, not that I can think of. Some books on the stars?”

“For glyphs?” King asked. “That’s awesome!”

“Yeah,” Luz laughed. “I’m… you know, always looking for more of those.” Looking harder, now that she wasn’t learning magic from another source anymore.

“Well, we’ll try our best.” Eda grinned. “Amity?”

“Hmm?” Amity blinked up at Eda, eyes a little out of it. “Oh, uh… nothing in particular. I just want to see what you find.”

“You know, you should come one day,” said Eda. “A family scavenging trip. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Yeah!” King and Luz exclaimed together. That would be fun. It would be a way to maybe reach out, and all bond again – to be closer.

“Uh, sure,” said Amity, standing abruptly. “I’ve – I need to go to school.”

“Sure,” Eda said after a moment. “You walking, or do you want Hooty to drop you?”

“I’ll walk,” Amity said. “I’ve got the time, and I know the way.”

“Alright,” said Eda, but Amity had already started walking away. “Anyway,” she turned back to her food. “Luz, you’re not hungry?”

“I’m eating,” Luz protested half-heartedly.

“It’s okay,” Eda shook her head, picking up everybody’s bowls. “I’m not the biggest fan of this stuff, either. You should get dressed and pack a bag for the day.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luz said, standing. “What do I need?”

“For going to the market? Water, and empty space to put the stuff we grab. I hope you’re strong, kid.”

“I am,” said Luz.

“But I’m stronger!” King yelled. “I’ll carry everything!”

Eda chuckled as Amity re-entered the room, uniform on and a bag in her hands. “I’m… going, then,” she said. “See you later.”

“See ya, kid.” Eda said, getting up. “I’ll start on the prep.”

Luz stood, too, making her way towards the door with Amity. “Bye,” she said, offering a small smile. “Um, see you later.”

“Yeah,” said Amity. Neither of them made a move to reach out and open the door.

“Um –“ Amity said, all of a sudden, “this might be weird, but… can I hug you?”

“What?” Luz said, before catching herself and saying, “oh, okay!”

Amity half-lunged at her, wrapping her arms around Luz’s shoulders and squeezing in. Luz’s face was forced into the crook of Amity’s shoulder, and her hands made their way to her back, wrapping lightly. As if spurred on by the added contact, Amity squeezed harder, until Luz’s face was uncomfortably pressed against the fabric of her uniform. Amity smelled… good. Like the shampoo Luz brought from the human world (coconut, it advertised, although the scent never seemed to last on her) and something else distinctly Amity. Despite herself, Luz’s heart flew into overdrive, and she felt her face flame.

Amity pulled away as quickly as she’d latched on, looking at the ground and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear quickly. “I should leave,” she repeated, opening the door. “See you later.”

“…see you,” Luz said, watching through the doorframe as Amity started a quick pace towards the path they took every day. “Wow.”

“Wow,” Hooty repeated. “Good morning, Luz!”

She jumped, slightly, although she had no reason to be alarmed at Hooty’s presence. “Yeah, hi,” she said, a hand coming up to where Amity had hugged her, rubbing at the rapidly cooling spot at the back of her neck.

She closed the door and turned back into the house, only to see King with his arms crossed, as much sass as you could put into a cute little body like that evident. Besides him, Eda mirrored his position, a single eyebrow raised.

“You two made up quickly,” Eda commented slyly.

“It’s not – it wasn’t like that!” Luz protested.

“Wasn’t it?” asked Eda. “It looked like… something.”

“Stop. I have to get ready.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

* * *

An hour later, they set off for the market. It had been a while since Luz had been to the market (she didn’t make a habit of going; humans were a commodity, and everybody knew she’d pulled her fair few set of scams along with Eda, and there was probably an arrest warrant out with her face on it somewhere.) But every time she visited, it was always beautifully, chaotically, different.

It was loud, and busy enough, even this early in the morning. Merchants were yelling advertisem*nts over the heads of the crowd, for produce and magic items and special, otherworldly artifacts. She had to stick close to Eda; in all the movement, Eda’s tall, imposing figure helped cut a path through the masses, and Luz would be damned if she let herself get swept up and lost.

King, walking besides Eda and somehow miraculously not getting trampled, seemed completely fine.

“Where are we going first?” Luz asked, having to walk pretty fast to keep up with both Eda and King.

“We’ve gotta get the food,” replied Eda. “This early, they’ll have everything – and I’ll be damned if I miss out on buying the spider carrots again.”

They fell into a comfortable almost-silence, letting the bustle around them fall like white noise. The air was always a little cold in Luz’s lungs – the type of fresh-feeling she didn’t often get in the human world. It was one of the many things she preferred about the Boiling Isles; one of the things she could reflect back on, and remember why she did all of this. Why she stayed.

“You know,” Eda started up, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“What was that hug all about this morning?”

Luz almost tripped on thin air, brain short-cutting. That wasn’t the question she was expecting. “I – I don’t – We – it –“

“Woah, kid,” Eda said, half-laughing. “Breathe.”

“I don’t know,” she explained. “I thought Amity hated me.”

“Wait,” Eda said, shocked. “You did? Why?”

“Yesterday… yesterday morning, I sort of said some stuff to Amity,” Luz said. “Like – it wasn’t exactly saying stuff, more not saying stuff at all, actually. She was being nice, and I just… pushed her away.”

“Wow. Dumbass. I thought you liked her?”

This time, Luz tripped for real – although, if asked, she’d say it was because Eda stopped suddenly, changing routes to one of the nearest market stalls. Eda remembered that? Luz had just assumed she’d forgotten – but of course Eda wouldn’t forget something like that.

“Hi,” Eda said to the person running the stall – a tall goblin with pin-tinged skin and horns. “I’d like…” she began rattling off ingredients from a list she’d brought, but Luz was frozen to the spot.

She looked down at King. “Did you know, too?”

“Of course!” King said. “I read all about love in your human books. You and Amity deserve that.”

“Aww, King,” Luz felt her heart squeeze as she picked him up for a hug. “You’re so cute.”

“Don’t call me cute!” He half-protested, although he returned the hug as best he could. “Put me down, or I’ll fall asleep.”

She obeyed, returning back to her own thoughts. The stall… the goblin at the stall… a brief memory sparked, of her and Amity coming to this marketplace together, what felt like forever ago. It was one of the many times Eda had left Luz and Amity together to run errands for her, and upon observing Eda, Luz realized it had been a kind of poor decision, considering they had always been pretty terrible at it.

Eda handed Luz a bag, seemingly finished with her bartering. “Remember when I sent you shopping with Amity?” She asked.

Wow. That was creepy. Luz had just been thinking about that.

“Yeah,” she said, as they began walking again, towards a different stall. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to set you two up,” Eda said casually, not even looking over. King, on Eda’s other side, didn’t bat an eyelid. So they’d both been in on it.

“How did you even know I liked her?” Luz asked, incredulous. “I didn’t even know I liked her.”

Well, she did, technically. She had just been so deep in denial that she hadn’t seen it.

Eda laughed. “What can I say, kid? I have a sense for these kinds of things.”

“They used to call Eda ‘The Matchmaker’ in Hexside!” King butted in.

“You weren’t – How do you know that?” Eda asked, quieter, to King. “I didn’t know you in Hexside. You weren’t alive when I was in Hexside.”

King let out a cackle that would’ve sounded devious, had it not been coming from his two-foot frame. “I have my sources,” he said cryptically.

“Wait,” Luz said, still caught on the conversation before. “So you don’t think I’m a horrible person?”

Eda froze at that, minutely – her legs kept walking, but Luz was watching her close enough to see her face blanch, going devoid of emotion for a split second. She shouldn’t have asked – she was wrong to ask – she didn’t want to know the answer –

“I could never,” Eda said, stopping them in the middle of the crowd to hold Luz’s arms, so that she was staring into her eyes. “Sometimes it takes me a while to figure out what to say – I’m not the most cut out for this parenting business – but I will never think that you’re a bad person.”

“What if I am?” Luz asked, and her voice came out wobbly and weak, quieter than she’d imagined it being. Her lips were pulling downwards, and – Titan, she didn’t want to cry this soon after a breakdown. It had been embarrassing enough, before.

“You’re not,” Eda said with certainty. “There’s not a bad bone in you, kid.”

She squeezed Luz’s arms comfortably, before straightening back up. “We should find somewhere out of the way,” she said, beginning to walk to an empty space between two market stalls already. Luz followed.

“But what about your spider carrots?”

“There’ll be more tomorrow.”

They reached the area, and it was incredible how quickly the noise of the people around them could dissipate as soon as they were no longer amongst them. In the now more isolated noise, Luz felt awkward, clammy, under Eda’s gaze. She’d always been the affectionate one – the hugger, the one that talked about her emotions. It was weird to go through these bouts of whatever it was with Eda.

“Listen, kid…” Eda said, “I owe you another apology.”

Luz went to protest, but Eda shook her head softly, cutting her off. “My mom was a meddler – me and Lilith used to call her ‘the Tinkerer’, because she’d tinker with one of her projects all day, before coming home and tinkering with one of us, like our feelings were something to be fixed.”

“Eda…” Luz said softly as her mentor paused in the story.

“I hated that,” she continued, “being treated like a project. I grew up associating talking about feelings with my mom’s meddling – eventually, I stopped talking to her. I wished, every time, that she’d let me come to her. I wished that I had control over what I told her, you know?”

Luz could only nod.

“And I see so much of you in me, and I thought you’d hate it too – so I waited. And now I know that was wrong, Luz, and I’m so sorry… I’ve always told you that you can come to me, but it doesn’t mean anything if I don’t come to you, too.”

She hadn’t noticed, but her eyes had been welling up with tears. As soon as Eda finished, Luz wrapped her arms around Eda’s middle, squeezing. “Thank you,” she said, for sharing, for being there – for being Eda, the best witch, the best mentor in all of the Boiling Isles.

“Oh,” Eda said. “And, we’re hugging.”

Luz let out a wet chuckle. “Stop ruining the moment.”

Eda’s arms wrapped around Luz, too. “I know,” she said. “I love you, kid. I just… wish I hadn’t waited.”

They stood, hugging, enjoying each other’s presence, for a little while longer. Luz was first to pull back, sniffling and pretending to ignore as Eda surreptitiously wiped at her own eyes. “You know,” Luz said, “if you wanna be better at parenting, my mom has a bunch of parenting books that she’d let you borrow.”

“As if I’d let Camilia win,” Eda said, grinning and crossing her arms. “In her books, I’m the perfect parent.”

“Oh, sure.” Luz said, picking up her bag and beginning to re-join the crowd of the market. “I’ll ask her about them when I visit this weekend?”

“No – Luz, stop! Wait! Don’t you dare!”

* * *

After they got home, Luz made herself comfortable on the couch, scrolling her phone. She could work, but she was tired, and a little overwhelmed, and her eyes were having trouble focussing for long periods. Instead, she lounged, picking up books if they were near her, only to discard them moments later when the words merged into each other. Waiting for… something.

As the front door opened, Luz shot up. Apparently, she’d been waiting for Amity to get home. Subconsciously.

Amity walked into the living room, stopping short as she saw Luz, sat half-swathed in blankets, staring back at her. “Um… hey,” she said.

“Hi,” Luz said back. “How was school?”

“Good,” said Amity.

An awkward silence overtook them, as they held each other’s gazes, and Luz felt her cheeks heating. The hug… her conversation with Eda…

“I – I should go,” Amity said. “Homework.”

“Yeah,” Luz said, nodding. “It’s important.”

Amity nodded, too, before making herself scarce up the stairs. Luz watched her go, listening to her footsteps, before collapsing back onto the couch, hands flying up to her face, and groaning loudly.

She’d rather the angst.

* * *

The evening passed quickly – as soon as Amity came back down for dinner, Eda filled the time effortlessly with descriptions of what they’d bought, and what they’d scavenged. Before she knew it, it was dark outside, and, against the pitter-patter backdrop of rain, and Amity’s soft breaths, they were getting ready for bed, side by side.

Amity (little Miss Perfect Student Amity) was packing her school bag the night before, as Luz rifled around her drawers for pyjamas she’d like to wear. Unlike earlier, this silence was comfortable, natural. Luz felt oddly at ease, sharing the same space as her crush.

What was really weirding her out was the fact that she wasn’t scared by the rain outside. Her window was tinted and, if she were to look through, the rain appeared clear, like human rain. It sounded like it, too – soothing and soft. She knew that really, they were completely different things, and that the rain here was a bad omen, a death trap – but she couldn’t find the energy to care, at that moment.

What was it that Gus had said to her, once? This rain, although deadly, was beautiful?

Luz changed, and when she turned, Amity was doing her meditation-thing on top of her mattress. She padded over to her own bed, careful to remain quiet as she slipped underneath the cover, adjusting the pillow and shutting her eyes.

After a moment, she opened them again, to see Amity’s eyes open, too, and on hers. Luz blinked, a little drowsily, unsure of what she was seeing.

“You know I never hated you, right?” Amity asked, softly. The room was dark, but her eyes shone like hearths, close to the heart, warm, safe. “I was just… hurt. By what you said.”

“I know,” Luz said. “I’m… really sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

“It’s okay,” said Amity.

“No it isn’t,” Luz responded.

Amity’s eyes slid shut, back into her world of tranquility. “Maybe not yet,” she said. “But it will be.”

Chapter 24: amity interlude ii

Chapter Text

Now that Luz is suspended, Amity has a lot of free time when she walks alone to school in the mornings. Time, of course, is always something she needs – her mother always used to say this thing about wanting more hours in a day than she had – but she’s never been forced to face this sort of empty time, where she has something to do (walking to school) but nothing occupying enough to keep her thoughts at bay.

Of course, she’d had a lot of time alone in the before (she’s taken to sectioning her time into the before-and-after of her life at the Owl House), but it had always been filled, forcibly, with homework and working at the library and her parents’ stupid parties. And so she’d felt out of control – when she had been given the freedom to make her own decisions, she’d felt frozen up, unable to fathom the idea of making her own choices – of being allowed to.

Silence was one of the main features of the before, in the Blight Manor, but she’d drowned it out.

In the Owl House, there’s always noise. She’s grown accustomed to that sort of comfortable chaos in the back of her head. White noise, if you will.

But now, on the path to school, disguised through a spell as somebody that isn’t her, with nothing but the rustle of branches in the wind and her own footfalls on the dirt path, her mind becomes a chaos of noise and thought that is almost overwhelming. Her thoughts feel a little like an old friend – she doesn’t feel bad about their presence, and yet there’s a sort of awkward tinge to every interaction, how she deals with them, because she’s fallen out of practice.

It doesn’t help, of course, that she’s barely had a wink of sleep. If anything, it makes things even more chaotic.

Her thoughts come in words – in long, stringy uncomfortable sentences that she has to decode and forcibly demand to slow down before she got dizzy with her own head’s overexertion. It’s always been that way; except, it feels different now. It feels like she’s alone, again, and that her brain is working against her, trying to fill the silence she’s been left in. It’s a little overwhelming.

The voice is her own, and so are the thoughts, she supposes, but they overlap and intertwine between each other in fragments that she follows, just barely. Her mind does not work in accordance with linear time – it enjoys jumping, and Amity jumps along with it.

(She’s been embarrassed, before, trying to explain her thought process to others, when it makes so much sense in her own head and yet so little in the words she struggles to find. She’s long since stopped trying to explain how her mind works.)

And it jumps now – her head, that is – to the past few days, to when she was a kid, to the library, to the snowy mountains, to the human world, even. To besides Luz. Away from Luz. To her parents, for a breath, and then to Luz’s explanation that her parents had taken her.

It settles, for a moment, on the morning two days ago. When Luz had pushed Amity away (because Amity was bad with other people’s feelings, but she knew what it was like to be unwanted.) It felt… it felt the same as when the twins had been angry at her, in bursts through their childhood, when she’d escaped the punishments they’d had to face, head on, and they’d shut her out. It felt cold, and lonely, and even though they always let her back in and it wasn’t her fault and she knew it would get better once they calmed down – she was alone, and that trickle of doubt still entered, that maybe, maybe this time, maybe they wouldn’t let her back in.

She doesn’t know whether Luz will let her back in. She’s waiting to see. But… she’s hopeful (she has to be, because if not, where would she be?) They’d talked – the night before. Luz was sorry – she’d said so – and Amity had said, ‘it’ll be okay.’

If Amity is wrong, and Luz had really meant to push her away, it would be so embarrassing.

But – Amity knows Luz. Enough. She knows the company Luz kept, and her optimism, and her drive. Amity knows Luz wouldn’t give up on her – not after Luz had let her stay, even though they hadn’t exchanged even a glance in over a year. So… so Amity is trying to not give up on Luz, either. It’s the least, and the most, she can do.

She won’t give up.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, the walk to school is pleasant and over quickly, and she gets to school with little trouble. Amity used to dread coming to school – before she found Boscha and Skara and Cat to walk around with, there was a moment of walking into Hexside where everybody that knew who she was, knew how horrible she was, and they all turned their glares on her. Amity held her chin high – as she does now – and tried to ignore them, pretend they didn’t get to her. They did then, and… even though she’s changed, and there aren’t glares anymore, they still do now.

She feels like everybody is watching her, judging her, as one singular, pulsating body that she isn’t a part of. She always feels like that.

She sees Boscha and Willow, getting out of the hover they share to school together, and Boscha looks her way, meets her eyes, but doesn’t react. The illusion magic, which she’s still got on, will drop the moment she walks through the front doors of Hexside. But… until then, she supposes, she is invisible.

Her and Boscha are… complicated. Boscha, she remembers, had promised to help Amity if ever the Blights came looking for her in school – but that was months ago, and they’ve barely spoken since. They’d barely spoken before, too, if Amity is being technical (which she is), and she wonders why.

Perhaps, in all the chaos of the move to the Owl House, Boscha had been pushed to the back of Amity’s mind. She’d been so focussed on potential threats, and keeping herself safe, and survival mode didn’t account for processing feelings.

Before she’d ran away – in the before – Boscha had been her closest confidant. They hadn’t spoken about everything – they hadn’t really spoken at all, now that Amity looks back on it – but Amity still remembers. Boscha had been the comforting presence at her side during the parties her parents threw. Amity had been exactly what Boscha needed, and in return, Boscha had been there for Amity.

And – Amity remembers her childhood, her years of growing up, with Boscha as a key feature in them. She remembers being the last one in Boscha’s room, after all their friends met up and left again, sitting in silence, watching each other. She remembers sitting on Boscha’s bed, at thirteen, just to escape the noise of a party, and feeling Boscha’s hand brush against hers, letting her, brushing her own hand back. Those moments of silence, between them, before some adult found them and scolded them and hurried them back to socialise. Looks that lasted, perhaps a little too long, at fourteen. An exploration of feelings Amity didn’t even know she could have, yet, at that age.

She remembers Odalia catching them holding hands, sharing a glass of tandrai, a month after she turned sixteen. Boscha had drank, and had encouraged Amity to open her mouth and drink too. She’d giggled, tipsy with joy and fear and the drink, and had pressed her lips against Amity’s, letting Amity taste the bitter tang of tandrai on her own tongue. It was only for a moment – but it was a moment too long.

She remembers the scolding she’d gotten – the warnings that she’d “never find a husband if she went around doing that,” and to “not be daft, Amity, that’s not natural, it’ll be okay, we can work through this sickness together.” She remembers the hurt, and the fear, and the leftover warmth of Boscha on her lips and in her palm.

And then she ran away, and it was forgotten – frozen in place. There had been no time to worry, to process actions, emotions, when she was constantly on edge, watching the people around her, making sure they wouldn’t stab her in the back.

And Amity looks at Boscha now, across the front lawn of Hexside, and wonders if she should apologise. To the girl that had gone through the same exploration of forbidden feelings Amity had, only to be cut off without a word. To the girl that Amity had cherished, once, and even though their bond was out of necessity, it didn’t make it any less real.

She never meant to hurt Boscha. She never meant to hurt anybody. Maybe… now is the time to start making amends.

* * *

When Amity was young, she used to idolise her parents. Her mother, the businesswoman, claiming whatever she set her eyes on with an endless ambition that Amity mimicked until she could safely call it her own. Her father, soft and a little absent, but with mostly kind eyes, even if they drifted halfway through a sentence as he got distracted by a new idea. They weren’t perfect, by any means, but a small part of Amity misses this – this childlike innocence, where she thought her parents were the two best people in the world.

When she has time alone, to think, sometimes she finds herself comparing the before with the after. She remembers the good times (without the bad, although she remembers that, too), when she’d greet her mother every day after school and ask what she’d been up to. How her mother’s face had shone as Amity showed her the top student badge for the first time.

Her father used to catch her, at the bottom of the stairs on the way to her bedroom, and ask her how her day had been at school. Every day. And, even if he didn’t listen to her whole explanation – and even if she watched him get distracted, because she was used to watching people, and she would rather he be distracted and absent than angry – it was enough that he cared, enough to ask. Enough to keep asking.

Wasn’t it?

* * *

Abominations class is boring without Luz. Amity has always been a good student – it’s been hammered into her practically since birth, and if it isn’t already a part of her DNA structure, she’s sure it’s ingrained somewhere. But today, she feels a little funny – she finds herself distracted and half-dozing off, notes trailing off the page into scratches on the desk.

She’s been able to power through no sleep before, but this is a different type of tiredness – one where her brain keeps catching on last night, how she hadn’t been able to sleep, so she’d stayed up, listening to Luz’s breaths even out and staring at the ceiling. Her mind had begun whirring, running wild (and, what could she say? Silence, she supposed, really got her mind going.) Her feelings for Luz - her feelings in general – weren’t something she was completely able to decipher. They were just… a ball of emotion, strong and not always unpleasant, that resided in her chest.

It sort of reflected Luz herself – complicated. One moment, Amity thought her feelings were reciprocated, the next Luz was pulling away, not meeting her eye, refusing to share the space they’d made their home.

(And, truly, that was the embarrassing part – that Amity could ever think Luz had feelings for her. That still, after it all, after Luz pulling away when Amity thought they were about to kiss, obviously a sign of rejection, that Amity still held a flame, a hope that one day, Luz would develop feelings for her and confess. That they’d date, like Amity had always wanted them too.)

“Miss Blight!” the teacher called, and Amity blinked to see she’d slumped slightly to the side, pen doodling circles onto the wood of the table. “Are you going to conjure with us, or are you too busy zoning out?”

How humiliating. Once the top student, and now she was getting publicly told off for – what? Giving up?

“Sorry,” she said, straightening up and raising her hands to begin the magic.

* * *

She opens her scroll, in a break between classes, when she’s alone at her locker and the world is ignoring her (ignoring her – the girl that used to instil fear and envy in every one of those students’ hearts. She knows she’s a better person now, but a small part of her misses those days – misses that, because as horrible as she acted, it was still a part of her, too.)

Nothing from Luz, or Eda – she hadn’t been expecting anything, really. Two messages from Emira.

[Hey, I got to the trek meeting point safe. There probably won’t be good signal for a while, but send me messages, and I’ll respond when I can.]]

[[I’ll miss you, mittens.]]

Emira’s sudden re-entry into her life had been… a shock. Amity just always assumed the twins, despite how horribly their parents had treated them growing up, would stay by their sides. They’d both gone on treks in the first place, after all. Perhaps their rebellious streaks had been quelled at the end of their Hexside journeys.

But… Emira had been the one to reach out, and when she wasn’t with Ed – when she wasn’t half of The Twins, it felt like Amity really connected with her. Feels like that, even now, as Amity reads over the message.

Except, now Emira is gone, and Amity can’t reach her for a long time. She’s alone again.

A long, snaking tongue reaches out of her locker and pokes her hand, causing her to almost drop her scroll. She gasps, catching it again, before elbowing her locker gently. “Hey!” She half-whispers as if the locker has understood her feelings and tried to knock some sense into her, rather than just being… well, a locker. “Alright. You’re right. I should stop moping.”

The tongue disappears, and Amity sighs, resting her forehead against the cool metal.

* * *

Lunch comes. Amity grabs a tray, and joins the end of the queue alone. It isn’t long, yet – she’s gotten there early, and because she’s older, her classes let out a good ten minutes before some of the younger ones. But there’s still a wall of students in front of her, shuffling slowly forwards every few seconds, between her and the satiation of the incessant growling in her stomach.

She looks to the side, and spots a girl with a perfectly packaged bag that she pulls her own food out of. A lunch from home.

That used to be Amity. Her mother used to pack her lunch – every morning, with her favourites in childish little separated parts of the lunch box. She’d forget, now and again, and Odalia would show up at school with the box and a kiss to her forehead, wishing her a good day.

And she loves the Owl House – loves their mismatched breakfasts when they’ve all got different schedules, and how they eat dinner together and sometimes the meals don’t work out, but… it’s not the same. Even though she doesn’t miss the Blight Manor (well. She doesn’t miss her life at the Blight Manor – the house is a different story), and she loves the after, this new, comfortable life that she’s constructed for herself… she can’t help but reminisce on parts of the before, that she keeps being reminded of, causing a pang of pain and remembrance to card through her stomach.

“Hey, Amity,” Willow says, and Amity jumps, turning to see Willow and Gus in the queue behind her. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” she responds, because she supposes it’s true, and although her and Willow are well on the path to recovery, you’re supposed to lie when people ask you how you are – it’s only polite, her mother had taught her. Nobody cares; the question is just a pleasantry. “You?”

“I miss Luz,” Willow admits. “And I’m hungry.”

“You could come visit her,” Amity suggests. “I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

Willow shrugs. “Luz has been… a bit weird, lately. I don’t know if she’d want to see us.”

“Weird how?”

Willow and Gus exchange a look, and Gus shakes his head slightly. “Just… weird. Not like herself, you know?”

To Amity, Luz has been different – but Amity doesn’t have a baseline of Luz’s normal to compare her against, in comparison to Luz’s real friends. Maybe Luz’s being weird had to do with the things she’d confessed to Eda, that Amity not-so-accidentally overheard. “I know,” she finds herself saying. “Well… not know, but… yeah. She has been off, I guess.”

“I hope she’s doing okay,” Willow says off-handed as Amity reaches the front of the queue.

“I think she is,” Amity says. “I think she wasn’t for a little while, but it’s getting better.”

“Oh,” says Gus. “Well, that’s good. Maybe we should go and see her, then.”

“Yeah,” Willow says, beginning to smile. “Alright.”

* * *

The time passes faster, or maybe she walks faster, but Amity gets back to the Owl House in record time. Although her and Luz hadn’t always talked on the way home (despite Luz being very good at it, Amity remembers fondly), that silence was much more comfortable, easier, safer. Amity found her feet half-dragging when she was with Luz, if only to prolong their time together, that sweet silence that only they could share.

Now, all she’s focussed on was getting home.

(Huh. She called it home.)

* * *

After Amity gets Hooty to open the door, she walks into the house, sees Luz waiting for her, and her heart promptly stops. Like yesterday, Luz seems to be waiting for her arrival, curled up lounging on the sofa with a perfect line of sight to the door. Except today she springs to her feet as Hooty and Amity’s voices spill into the house, filled with greetings and questions and mindless chatter. Amity adjusts the bag on her back as she ventures further into the house, stopping in her tracks when she sees Luz, standing by the sofa, hair mussed with sleep.

Amity offers her best smile – weak and small and vulnerable as it feels – and Luz offers one back. Her heart, as it’s taken to doing more and more often whilst around Luz, consequence be damned, feels like it’s about to jump out of her chest.

“How was school?” Asks Luz.

“Good,” says Amity. “I spoke to Willow and Gus today. They said they miss you.”

“I miss them too,” Luz says. “It’s nice that you spoke to them.”

“Yeah,” Amity finishes, and then they delve into silence. Amity feels her cheeks heating by the second as she watches Luz watching her, feels the weight of her eyes, the silence of the words she wants to say but can’t quite get out. “Well – I’ve got – homework. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Luz nods. “Uhm, have fun.”

Amity lets out an amused breath. “I’ll try my best,” she says. “I’ll… see you for dinner, I guess.”

“Yup.” Luz nods. “See ya, Amity.”

* * *

Instead of homework, Amity takes one step into her bedroom and collapses face-first into the blankets, falling asleep the moment her head hits the pillow. Her insides feel raw with dredged-up emotion that her mind has brought to the surface without her permission, of decisions made and questions left unanswered. She thinks that maybe the deep lethargy in her head is more than just the over-exertion of doing another day alone when she’s already adjusted to being around others. It’s that, too – but it’s also so much more.

By the time she’s called for dinner, she’s been up for a good half hour, although her brain still isn’t moving at quite the right speed, and she’s been staring blankly at her abomination notes for a good half of the time. She trudges down the stairs, heads straight for the table where everybody’s already seated, serving their food.

Amity slots in, like this. Luz looks up from her seat opposite Amity’s and offers one of those bright smiles that only Luz can do. Amity smiles back, and Luz misses the plate when she’s serving herself food, causing King to crack up and Eda to swiftly follow. Amity finds herself chuckling, too, as Luz tries to pick up the food and put it back on her plate, except it’s too hot, and she drops it with a curse of, “Titan!”

Things calm, as Eda offers to serve Amity, who accepts. The smile is left on Amity’s face, though – she feels warm, here. Not so alone.

“How was your day, Amity?” Eda asks as she picks up Amity’s plate and begins spooning food onto it.

Amity blinks. She’s reminded, all at once, of her father asking her the same question – his voice, although deeper, blends into Eda’s in her mind. But unlike her father, Eda’s expression is open and interested, and as she sets the plate down in front of Amity, Amity realizes that it’s not a pleasantry for her – she is interested. She does care.

“It was good,” Amity says. “In Abomination II, we were working on lifting objects…”

And, although she has bouts of missing the before – missing her parents, and her house, and the life she’d had that she’d hated so much… she’s definitely sure that she loves the after.

Chapter 25: deliveries

Chapter Text

“Pass the eye of newt.”

Without looking, Luz blindly grappled to her left, picking up the smallest jar she could find, and passing it sideways to Eda. Her nose was buried in a potions book, half-studying, half-inhaling its contents.

“Thanks.” Eda unscrewed the jar, using shiny silvery tweezers to pluck a couple out, adding them to the large pot in front of her. “Okay… now we let it settle for a few seconds until-“

She cut herself off as a bright blue light burst from the cauldron left tiny particles floating through the air. Luz blinked up, admiring the sight.

“Huh,” said Eda, after a moment. “It’s never been that bright before.”

“It’s because I’m here,” Luz said. “With me, the potions can’t help but be amazing.”

Eda let out a soft laugh at that, reaching a slightly charcoal-blackened hand to rub at Luz’s hair affectionately. “You’re my good luck charm? Maybe you should stay around.”

“I plan to,” Luz responded.

Eda drew her hand back to herself, picking up a glass bottle and swiping it through the powder. “How’s the learning going?” she asked.

Luz shrugged. “Alright. You’re making a night vision potion, right?”

“Good job,” said Eda, corking one bottle and grabbing another to repeat the collection process. “These ones always sell when business is slightly quieter; when I get some space to breathe, I like to brew them in semi-bulk.”

“Can I try?”

Luz immediately scooted closer to Eda, preparing her best puppy-eyes look. She enjoyed studying alongside Eda, sure, but Eda had handed her this potions book three hours ago and demanded she watch and find the right potion as Eda made them. Her butt was numb, she was a little hungry, and her fingers were twitching with restlessness and excitement.

“Woah, there,” Eda held the half-full glass vial up higher than Luz could reach it. “Not yet. Potions are dangerous stuff, and I don’t want you touching any of it without protective gear on. Who knows what it’ll do to human skin.”

Luz groaned. “But I’ve identified the past four potions perfectly. Can’t I at least stir the cauldron?”

“Stirring the cauldron is mostly a myth,” said Eda. “Usually, the potions that need mixing can be mixed with a little heat applied from underneath. We generally discourage reaching into the pot.”

She groaned again, slumping back until her back hit the sofa cushions. “Well then, I’m bored.”

“Then how about you go and cook us lunch?” Eda capped another vial, before turning to Luz and shooting her a wicked grin. “Take your pick, kid.”

“Fine,” said Luz, standing up and beginning to make her way to the kitchen. “I’ll make the food better than you, anyway.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing!” She called as she walked into the kitchen.

Since the suspension, Luz had woken up each morning, unsure of what would be in store for the day. Eda usually had business to go about that couldn’t be interrupted by Luz, and King was an add-on that seamlessly fit into her routine. Luz felt a little like an anomaly (and her brain whispered that she’d told Eda that, and Eda knew, yet she couldn’t stop worrying that today, maybe she wouldn’t be a part of them.)

Today, she’d woken up after Amity had already gone, and (cursing herself for missing the chance to wish her a good day) had trudged downstairs, only to be distracted by Eda, wearing the hugest pair of crazy-scientist goggles she’d ever seen, working her way through an order sheet of potions.

“What do you want to eat?” Luz called from the kitchen, rifling through the shelves to see the ingredients they had.

Eda hummed in thought, before responding, “What can you make?”

Good point. Luz grabbed a flour pack from one of the shelves, looking it over. Her mom had probably given it to them, ages ago – but could flour go out of date? “I can try garlic knots?”

“What’s garlic?” Eda asked.

“It’s a little like ginger, mixed with rootseed oil. It’s a human vegetable.”

Eda peeked her head into the kitchen. “And you have it?”

“Well, no… but I can probably find something similar.”

Eda shrugged, putting her goggles back on. “Go crazy, kid. If it fails, we’ve got leftovers.”

Anyway – she came down, and stood for a moment, observing as Eda added ingredients to a glowing yellow slime in the cauldron. Eda, it seemed, was able to sense her presence and turned around, pulling the goggles off with a slightly luminous hand. “Morning, sleepy-head,” she’d greeted, grinning. “I’ve got work today, so no crazy adventures, I’m afraid.”

“That’s okay!” Luz had wandered over, leftover fatigue dissipating from her body with every step. “Can I help?”

“You want to?” Eda asked.

“Well, yeah,” Luz said, sitting down. “You’re making potions, right? That’s awesome!”

“Thanks,” Eda chuckled, “but I just do it to get by.”

“Still…” Luz looked at the pot for a moment, at the self-churning, almost bubbling liquid. “Can I do anything?”

“Sure.” Suddenly her hands were filled with a slightly dusty potions book, with the spine half-falling apart and the pages gently ripped and curling in places, yellowed with old age. “Watch me work, pass me my ingredients, and see if you learn anything.”

Luz began the familiar recipe for garlic knots, grabbing ingredients from the kitchen’s layout she’d memorised by heart. She knew this recipe, like she knew a few others, like the back of her hand; her mom had taught it to her when she was young, propping a five-year-old Luz up on the countertop as she kneaded dough and let Luz poke at it to see if it was the right texture. The motions were familiar, and simple, and she let her mind wander.

She’d had nothing to worry about, apparently – she’d always fit in. Even if it originally looked like there wasn’t space. They’d make room for her; she just had to trust in them, and accept their kindness.

* * *

“I won’t lie, kid… these actually smell pretty good.”

Luz preened as Eda took two garlic (not-garlic?) knots onto her plate, before reaching over to serve King. “What did you end up using?” She asked as she did so, lifting King’s plate to make depositing food easier.

“Crushed rhino beans and rootseed oil.”

“Huh.” Eda set King’s now full plate down, reaching for Luz’s. “Didn’t even know we had rhino beans. How hungry are you?”

Luz’s stomach growled, almost in response, and Eda laughed. “Got it.”

As Eda heaped a steaming pile of the pseudo-garlic knots onto her plate, Luz found her mind drifting. And, as it always seemed to do these days, her thoughts landed on Amity. Amity’s presence, missing from the seat directly across the table.

Her cheeks heated, slightly.

Recently, she’d been seeing Amity everywhere she looked; when she’d woken up, it had been thoughts of Amity, her phantom, daydreamed figure still asleep not six feet from Luz – their hands, stretched out until their fingers were brushing, almost close enough for Luz to press her palm gently to Amity’s. As she’d come downstairs – even though Amity was gone, and the living room was… well, a mess – and expected to see a familiar shock of green hair seated on the couch, observing softly.

But then a plate was set in front of her, and Luz took the opportunity to lean over it, hoping that the steam hitting her would be a good enough excuse for any possible tinge of pink in her face. Eda gave her a funny look, but returned to serving herself a (much more modest – wow, this was reminding her of home) portion. Luz picked up a piping hot pastry, putting it into her mouth hastily.

“They’re good!” King was saying – King, who had claws so he couldn’t burn his fingers, and teeth that were sharp enough to destroy the food before it charred the insides of his mouth, in the same way it was doing to Luz. “You should cook again!”

“Hey now,” Eda said warningly, as Luz began to tear up, opening her mouth to hopefully expel some of the heat. “Any more talk, and I’ll start thinking you don’t like my cooking.”

It wasn’t working – Luz began to fan her mouth. Two pairs of eyes turned towards her.

“You good?” Asked Eda.

Finally finding the will to swallow, Luz took a moment to squeeze her eyes shut. Jeez. If her face wasn’t warm before, now it was boiling. “All good,” she croaked out. “It’s just… hot.”

“Yeah?” Eda plucked a piece up, placing it in her mouth. “Huh. I guess it is.”

“Did you finish all the potion orders?” Luz asked, if only to change the conversation away from her.

“Yup,” Eda said proudly. “Want to deliver them all this afternoon?”

“Sure,” said Luz. Maybe it’d do her some good – fresh air, a little exploration of the world she’d never stop discovering. Plus, maybe some time out of the house – out of reminders of Amity – to socialise with strangers, would do her some good.

Her eyes, again, fell to Amity’s empty seat.

“Luz?” Eda asked, and Luz blinked. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah,” she squeaked, caught off guard. “I’m just… thinking.”

“’Bout what?” Eda served herself more food, and Luz felt a warmth set off in her chest at the thought of people enjoying it.

“Amity,” she admitted. She had made a promise – to herself and to Eda – that she was going to start being honest, about her feelings or otherwise, so as to avoid any… downwards spirals. (that was a nice way to put it.) “I still like her.”

“I thought you would,” Eda said as if Luz had mentioned she’d been thinking about weather patterns. “Any idea how to ask her out?”

A week ago, this bluntness would’ve shocked Luz. Now, she knew Eda was rooting for her – not judging. “No,” she groaned. “I just – we’re – it’s really complicated at the moment.”

“When is it not?” Eda questioned. “King, eat up.”

King, who had stopped eating to half-gape at Luz, snapped his jaw shut and reached for another pseudo-garlic knot. “I thought you two would’ve sorted things out by now,” he mentioned off-handed as he stuffed three into his mouth, all at once.

“Eww, King,” Eda chided. “And you overestimate our Luz – she’s still a little bit of a disaster zone.”

“Hey!” Luz responded, letting a joking tone seep through her voice. “I take offense to that.”

“Seriously, though,” Eda said, sobering up surprisingly quickly, “you just got over a huge mental breakdown – as far as I’m concerned, recovery is still in process. You can definitely afford to take things at your own pace.”

“What if my own pace is wanting to ask her out?” Luz said – meekly, quietly.

This time, both Eda and King dropped their jaws wide open – regardless of the disgusting, half-chewed food in their mouths.

“You do?” King asked (more of an exclamation, really; of joy, of shock? Luz wasn’t quite sure.)

“Maybe?” Luz’s voice rose in pitch. “I mean – I did just have a huge mental breakdown, right?”

“Right,” Eda said with a warning tone, directing a look at King. “Exactly. Own pace. Do what you want.”

Luz looked back down at her plate, deciding to risk another garlic knot. Her face was already as hot as it could get – what was the harm in boiling more of her?

“But,” Eda started, “with that being said – you want to ask her out?”

“…yes?”

Eda nodded. “Well; there’s no direct way to tell you how to do it, Luz. I’ve been asked out a lot of times – and all I can tell you is that the good ones, the ones that stick, are the ones that really come from the heart. Don’t tell her you like her just because she’s pretty, or something.”

“Tell her you think she’s smart!” King hopped in. “Smart and pretty!”

“Or we could postpone this conversation,” Luz said, bowing her head. “Just because I want to ask her out, doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

“What?” Asked Eda. “Of course it’s a good idea! It’s what you want.”

“What I want is for her to say yes,” said Luz. “Not the mortification part, if she says no.”

“If,” emphasized Eda. “You know… I’ve said my piece. I think you should tell her how you feel – you’ve waited long enough.”

Luz sighed, taking a sip of water. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll… think about it, I guess.”

* * *

After they finished eating, Luz was promptly set off with the witch-equivalent of a GPS, a list of addresses, and a huge fragile bag full of potions to deliver. ‘The air would do her good’, she’d said to Eda when she agreed to deliver.

The air, however, was not doing her any good. Nor was the walk itself – Luz felt lazy, and interacting with random witches to deliver potions and collect snails wasn’t exactly her idea of a good time. Usually, she liked walks; they gave her time to think, and process, and feel. But right now, her thoughts were festering, all around one topic.

Amity freaking Blight.

There was no question, for one, that Luz liked Amity. It had been a hard fact, cemented into her head months ago. A fact that she still struggled with – struggled, when Amity sprung up in her mind, and Luz felt as though she was invading Amity’s privacy. Struggled, when Amity looked at her once and Luz’s heart started pounding so hard that she couldn’t control whatever strange expression her face was making.

Struggled, because Eda had told her it was okay, and King had told her it was okay, and her mom had told her it was okay – and yet every day she found herself questioning them, the little voice in her head taunting that perhaps it wasn’t okay.

She fought it, of course – Eda had been supportive enough to encourage Luz to ask Amity on a date, which was a sure sign of her support.

Reaching the first house, Luz delivered the potion and picked up payment without a hitch. As she programmed the next address into her device, she found pieces of Amity. Her hair, in the green of the potion she’d just delivered. Amber, like her eyes, on the paint of their front door. Black, the colour she tediously painted her still-short nails every few days, dotted into the path she walked towards the next house.

Amity was… everywhere. And Luz couldn’t escape her. But maybe… it wasn’t so bad?

Four more deliveries and a half-hour later, Luz stopped and tipped her head back, feeling the breeze against her short hair. The worst of all her thoughts, was when she lay in bed at night, besides Amity, and allowed herself to daydream – of them, together, in the world Luz wanted. Holding hands, and going on dates, and as girlfriends. Those, no matter how much she enjoyed the fantasy, were the most harmful. And yet, she couldn’t find it within herself to regret it.

The sixth delivery had her standing on the edge of the forest, to find a mushroom house that the GPS stated was only a six-minute walk away. A bolt of anxiety travelled through her chest, all at once.

The last time she was in the woods, the Blights got her. The last time she was alone… and she didn’t even have enough magic to defend herself, to get herself out. The Blights got her, and she was helpless to stop it.

And she was scared then like she was now, trembling all of a sudden, the tell-tale clinking of glass vials in her bag letting her know that she was no stronger than a leaf in the wind. Her bones felt like ash; powdery, weak within her body.

And, like she noticed then, she remembered that Amity was also a Blight. Part of her, despite her likes and her fondness, was still scared of Amity (part of her, she wondered, might be scared of her forever.) Even though Amity hated her family, and denounced all the horrible stuff they’d done – she still had that power. Even if she never chose to use it – it resided within her. And, even if she never had the intent to – one wrong move from Luz, and Amity could probably destroy her without so much as a glance.

Luz took a deep breath, taking two, then three, four, five steps away from the border of the forest. Eda would just have to deliver that one later.

* * *

Hours later, the sun was beginning to show its descent with longer shadows and an orange tinge over the whole of the Boiling Isles, Amity got home, with Willow following her. They opened the door mid-conversation, and Luz (who had been waiting on the couch in the living room for the better part of an hour) springs up at the unfamiliar sound.

Amity… and Willow. A smile breaks out on her face.

“Willow!” She says, jumping to her feet and walking to the doorway. “You came over.”

“Hey, Luz,” Willow says with her soft grin and soft eyes, and Luz just wants to pull her into a hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Luz said. “It totally sucks not having a scroll to text you guys with.”

“Yeah,” Willow said. “Anyway – I brought your homework. We didn’t do much in Plant class today, so the workload’s pretty light. Our professor just got talking about his husband – it’s their anniversary tomorrow – so time passed!”

“Oh,” said Luz, accepting the pile of paperwork and trying to remind herself that the sting she feels isn’t Willow’s fault. She got herself suspended. She put herself on the road to expulsion. “That sounds fun!” She dredges up, forcing a cheery smile to overtake her features.

Willow nodded, before turning back to Amity. “Anyway,” she began. “You were saying about Professor Cryptode?”

Their conversation continued, without Luz, and they enter the living room, leaving her with the pile of paper and a sour taste in her mouth. She was… fine. It was all fine.

She just wouldn’t go into the living room for a while, then. Maybe until Willow left. She had a lot of work to do, anyway. And it totally wasn’t Willow and Amity’s fault – they couldn’t help excluding her when she wasn’t a part of the school they both went to. It was fine.

* * *

“This is so good!” King exclaimed, mouth half-full with a half-soup half mush that Eda had made of rabbit meat and vegetables. “How did you do this!”

Eda chuckled as she sat at the head of the table, after handing a spoon to everybody. “I followed a recipe,” she admitted. “One that Luz’s mom gave us – except we don’t have half the stuff, and a couple of the equivalents are completely undigestible to humans – but, I’m glad you like it.”

Luz was sat across from Amity (for real, this time; close enough that Luz could see as Amity’s eyebrows went up as she tasted the food.) “It is good,” she said, spooning another bite into her mouth.

Reaching over the table, Eda ruffled Amity’s pin-straight perfect hair into a static mess, laughing all the way. “Wow,” she said. “It’s all compliments. What do you think, Luz?”

Luz eyed the purple, lumpy mixture warily, before shrugging and taking a mouthful. Her eyes widened as she made eye contact with Eda, and before swallowing, she informed her, “It’s great!”

Eda, who had already been standing to reach over and ruffle Amity’s hair, came around to hug Luz from behind, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. “All my kids approve then,” she said with a grin, close to Luz’s ear, before letting her go. “This is the start of my cooking redemption!”

“That sounds like a video game name,” Amity commented. “’Cooking Redemption.’”

But Luz’s thoughts were caught on Eda – kissing her forehead, hugging her. It was… well, it was un-Eda-like to initiate physical contact, especially of the affectionate kind. It reminded her of her mom – her mom, who she hadn’t seen in a week, now, but it had felt like so much longer.

Tears sprung to her eyes, unwarranted, and she ate more in an effort to distract herself. She loved it here, sure – but sometimes she wished her mom could be here, too, experiencing this whole world with her.

Luz cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she said, remembrance of earlier – of the forest, of the Blight parents, of their threats filling her head. “We need to talk about the Blights.”

Luz, sitting so close to Amity, saw the moment she froze, spoon half-up to her lips, pale skin somehow growing even paler. She set her spoon down gently, and steeled herself. “What about them?” She asked.

All eyes turned to her, and Luz gulped. “They… took me,” she said, wincing slightly, “remember? They’re obviously a threat, and the only way we stand a chance is to have the advantage of being prepared.”

Eda’s face turned solemn as she nodded in agreement. “You're right,” she said. “We need to be prepared for whatever they’ll do.”

“How do we prepare?” Asked Amity. “We don’t know what they’ll do.”

“Then let’s surprise them.”

Amity raised an eyebrow. “How could we possibly surprise them?” She asked. “My mom has oracle magic. She’ll just see us coming.”

“Actually,” Eda started, “I’ve been thinking about that. Oracle magic, even for its best users, is foggy. If we confront your parents on an already busy day, we’ll just fade into the background.”

“That sounds pretty good to me,” Luz said. “Let’s get ‘em.”

* * *

Luz’s stomach is full, and she feels the tired kind of sated that she hasn’t felt in a while. Her muscles are no longer buzzing with tense energy; instead, she half-drags herself with a sort of lazy tiredness through the motions of getting ready to sleep.

Her line of sight, always, gets caught on Amity. Amity was where she begun, and one day, it feels like, Amity will be where she’ll end. Even in the darkness, Luz’s eyes found her with a sort of sense she didn’t know how to explain. She’d always find her.

“Luz,” Amity said, and Luz caught her eye in the dim moonlight through the window. Half her face was illuminated, a sort of porcelain glow that made the features of the room around her fuzzy.

“What’s up?” Asked Luz.

“Can I…” Amity faltered for a moment, hands twisting in her lap. “Can I have a hug?”

Luz’s chest filled with a warmth she didn’t know how else to explain, other than comfortable molten lava in her heart, lungs, filling her inside until every breath was taken for Amity. “Sure,” she said, almost a whisper, leaning over and wrapping her arms around Amity.

Amity’s hands found her lower back, and they scorched through the thin material of her pyjamas. Luz squeezed her tighter, feeling the warmth all the way down to her feet.

She was overwhelmed with it – with the warmth, with the joy, with the lack of worries about how Amity hated her. And this, perhaps, explained why she felt the need to blurt, “I like you!”

For the second time that day, Amity went stiff – before pulling away from the hug. “You like me?”

“Yes,” mumbled Luz, heat draining away from her body all at once, leaving it cold and stiff. Oh, f*ck.

“You like me?” Amity asked again, voice raising in pitch.

“Yeah, I get it,” said Luz, almost snappily.

“But –“ Amity paused, as if thinking over her words. “But you pulled away!”

“What?” Luz asked. “You were the one that stopped hugging me.”

“No,” Amity let out a harsh sigh. “In the treehouse. You pulled away when I thought you were going to kiss me!”

“I thought I’d be taking advantage of you!”

“Well… you weren’t! You pushed me away!”

“Well you told me that almost kissing me was a mistake!”

“Yeah,” Amity folded her arms over her chest. “Of course I did. I was hurt.”

“Well, me too,” Luz said, before the realization of their conversation washed over her. “Wait,” she said. “You… like me?”

Amity scoffed. “Of course I like you, Luz. I’ve liked you since we were 14.”

“Even when we weren’t talking?”

“Especially when we weren’t.”

The heat was back – Luz pressed her palms to her boiling-hot cheeks. “Oh my Titan, bury me alive,” she said softly. “You like me back.”

Amity’s face was red, too – red all over. It made her look cute, Luz thought. “Yeah,” she said. “Surprise.”

And then Luz started laughing. “Sorry,” she said through the giggles. “I’m just – wow.”

“Yeah,” Amity responded. “Um… yeah.”

“Yeah,” Luz said back. “We should… probably go to sleep.”

“Oh, definitely,” Amity agreed. “Well… goodnight.”

Settling herself until she was ready to dive under the covers, Luz watched as Amity settled onto her own bed. “Goodnight,” she said, watching as Amity settled into her normal meditation, peeking a vibrant amber eye out to watch Luz with a smile on her face.

And then Amity was leaning over, and planted a chaste kiss to Luz’s warm cheek. “Goodnight,” she said again, settling back into her state of almost-calm (her cheeks were still blazing; it was adorable.)

“Night,” Luz said… again.

“Night.”

“Night.”

“Stop saying it – I’m going to sleep.”

Chapter 26: let's stick together

Chapter Text

It wasn’t exactly unprecedented, for Luz, to wake up feeling like crap. It didn’t happen often – barely at all, usually – but a few days each year, for some unexplainable reason, Luz woke up with tears in her eyes and a heavy taste on her tongue, weighting down all her words until they dragged her to the floor. She couldn’t explain why – maybe she had bad dreams, that she couldn’t remember upon waking up, but her body still held cautious against. Or, maybe it was normal.

Either way; today, Luz woke up, and she knew that it was going to be one of those days.

She let herself lie there for a few seconds, breathing and staring at the ceiling, acknowledging that her eyes felt watery and sensitive, and her heart felt tender and bruised. The ache of exhaustion was present, too, despite her full nights’ sleep.

Her eyes shut again, and she rolled over onto one side. Sleep likely wouldn’t come again – she was sure, judging by the rays of the sun lighting almost an entire wall of the room, that she’d already been given a much longer time to sleep than anybody else.

When she opened her eyes, they landed on Amity’s empty but made bed. Unbidden, the sting in her eyes intensified, and a tear slipped out, almost immediately absorbed by the cotton of her pillowcase. It wasn’t because Amity wasn’t there – not fully, exactly – but the urge to cry was always a burden on her body on these types of days, and if it didn’t come now, it would’ve come later, anyway. Besides… she wasn’t crying. Not really. Not yet.

A small knock interrupted her slow, trudging thoughts, and Luz rolled back onto her back, lifting her head. It felt like she was pulling against a great force; it felt like ropes had been attached to her skull, and thousands of tiny people were yelling ‘heave, ho!’ and trying to get her to just put her head down again.

“What is it?” she managed to croak, quiet but still audible, throat tensing at the first words she’d spoken that day. She knew those knocks, anyway. King.

The door pushed open, and Luz caught a glimpse of King’s white skull. “Hi!” He said, far too cheery, as if he was trying to juxtapose his mood to Luz’s own and remind her how miserable she felt in comparison. “I just wanted to see if you were awake?”

Luz gave into the temptation, putting her head back onto the pillow, letting her eyes shut again. Another tear; this one slid from the corner of one eye all the way down until it dropped off of her ear. “I am,” she said. “You need something?”

“Nope!” One thing that Luz liked about King, was that she could hear his scurrying little feet from a mile away. He couldn’t sneak up on her (no matter how many pranks he tried to pull, she was always prepared, faking a gasp as he jumped onto her back, yelling ‘boo’!). And, so, she heard that familiar little scuttle now, King carrying himself over to her side. She wiped at her cheek subtly. “I just wanted to check in.”

Luz nodded, but didn’t open her eyes. Part of her was worried that, judging from the heightened sensitivity, she’d immediately shed a couple of tears. “You’ve checked,” Luz said, prompting her own, weak and somewhat ironic, smile. “Anything else?”

King’s footsteps stopped by her cheek, and Luz tilted her head to look at him. His eyes – big and yellow and above her own, for once – seemed to bore into her soul for a minute. Luz, exhausted, let it happen.

“Are you having a bad day?” King asked, finally, voice a lot more softer than the so-happy-it-felt-abrasive normal. “Like before?”

Oh, yes. This wasn’t the first time Luz had had a bad day in the Boiling Isles. The first time was probably at some point last year – when she was nearing the end of age fifteen, and at the peak of her Tarot-exams at Hexside. She’d had plans with Gus, to go and see a band that he liked. But she woke up (similarly to how she’d woken up today – heavy with a sadness that she couldn’t explain away or resolve, and quiet.)

Eda and King had completely freaked. Luz – loud, bubbly, talkative Luz – had trudged down the stairs three hours after she usually woke up, not hungry, and practically collapsed on the couch, as if the journey from her bedroom had been ten miles long. At first, they thought she was sick; for some reason, they had this hypothesizing session over her head, so she heard every word. They’d thought it was some unknown human sickness that just made you tired, and made your eyes water… and had no other conveniently placed symptoms.

But then they asked her whether she was sick, and all Luz was able to do was hum and roll over and shut her eyes against the harsh light.

Eda had even sucked up her pride and gone into the human realm (on a Thursday) to ask Camilia for help. This, Luz knew, was a huge step for Eda – both because she’d been pretty sure Eda half-hated her mom out of competitiveness, and because Eda wasn’t really an asking-for-help person. But Camilia had know exactly what to do; reassure Luz that it was alright to stay in bed all day if she was feeling bad, remind her that it would pass, tell her she loved her, set her up with lots of hydration and small, light foods, and leave her in a dark room to sleep and cry it off (with hugs always available on standby just one floor down, if she wanted them.)

When she was a kid; before the Owl House, and before witches, and magic, she used to have these days a lot more often. And her mom used to come into her room to wake her, and somehow just know. On the days where it presented less as exhaustion, and more as a tense, almost angry energy that made her want to cry because she was so tired of it, Camilia would have her knead bread until she was able to focus in enough on the ache in her forearms, and the repetitive movements. And on the days where it was just a lethargy, Camilia would sit her down and brush her hair and play old Spanish ballads that she occasionally hummed along with until Luz felt the tears come to the surface and overflow.

Her mom called them ‘días de reinicio’, as she combed her hair and Luz cried. Not a bad day – just a day to reset, and restart. It was a bad day; but it was a reset of her emotions, so that she could continue on, stronger and more balanced. Partly, this name was because her mom didn’t want to say that Luz was having “bad days” – she’d always had a thing about ‘negative language.’

But, the weirdest thing was that to Luz, they never ended up being particularly bad days. Like her mom described it – it was like restarting, the next morning, as she iced her puffy eyes over breakfast and cracked a smile at her mom. As her mom tried to hide the obvious relief in her smiling response. And that wasn’t… bad.

“Yeah,” said Luz, eventually, to King – back in the present. “I’m having a bad day. Like before.”

“Okay,” King said, and Luz felt like weeping at the complete lack of judgement in his tone. “Can I hug you?”

“Sure,” Luz’s voice came out breathy and emotional, and with great effort, she shifted herself up slightly, allowing King to crawl onto the bed besides her. It was always Luz scooping King up; he was so small, and his arms were so adorably short, that when they hugged, the most he could usually do was sit and be hugged.

And today, as much as he tried to wrap his arms around her middle, it ended up being the kind of hug where she buried her face into the top of his skull and cocooned him.

After her first ‘bad day’, Eda had visited the human realm with Luz, and spent two days in a library, pouring over books she couldn’t borrow over psychology and human emotion. She’d come back without so much of a word of what she’d learnt – for the first few days, at least, until Eda had sat her down after dinner and asked her what to expect, if it ever happened again.

She hadn’t even been having a bad day – but Luz felt like crying, because… well, because Eda cared. And she didn’t like talking about it, but before the Boiling Isles, her mom was really the only person who cared. Who paid any attention.

Eda had said something (she’d heard it in a TED talk, or something) about how crying was good for humans. It released negative chemicals in the brain – like a ‘reset’ button.

“Sorry,” Luz sniffled to King, tears beginning to drip, down her nose, curled close to King, and onto his skull. “I’m just… I’m getting your skull wet.”

“That’s okay!” King said, wiggling to get comfortable in Luz’s lap. “My skull is waterproof.”

“Yeah?” Luz asked, chuckling wetly. “That’s good, then.”

King nodded, and Luz felt the movement brush against the tip of her nose. “Very convenient.”

“Sorry,” Luz said again, after a minute of crying and tears and snot probably getting all over King.

“For what?” King asked, pulling away to look at her. Luz shied away from the look, embarrassed that her eyes were probably swollen, and her face was wet.

“For being sad,” Luz said, self-deprecatingly. “My life is good right now.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be sad,” King said. “Do you want me to get Eda?”

Luz wiped at her face. “It’s alright,” she said. “I’ll come downstairs.”

King pulled back at that. “Um…” he started, eyes dropping, “maybe that isn’t that good of an idea.”

“What?”

“It’s just…” King shifted off of Luz, standing. “Amity and Eda are… talking.”

“About what?” Luz wiped her hands on her shirt, moving to sit up completely. “Do they need me?”

“You should just sleep, if you’re having a bad day,” King insisted, even as Luz was standing up.

“Why is Amity even home? Shouldn’t she be at school?”

“Luz!” King followed her as she walked into the bathroom, grabbing some tissue to blow her nose with.

“It’s alright,” she said. “I… I’ll be okay.”

Her brain was an anvil, pressing down against the bottom of her skull, pressure reaching her eyes, her jaw, her neck. “I’ll be okay,” she repeated, more to herself as she brushed past King and moved back into the bedroom. “I’ll manage.”

“But you’re having a bad day!” King whined, following her as she walked down the stairs. “You don’t need to – Luz –“

“It’s fine, King,” Luz said, turning to address him right as he stumbled into her knees. “I’m not a kid. I can postpone some emotions. I’ve done it before.”

King shifted. “Alright,” he said uneasily, not meeting her eyes. “But… you have to be honest when someone asks how you’re doing.”

Luz’s head tilted. What an odd request.

“Done,” she said, heading down the stairs. “Now – am I missing something important?”

* * *

Turns out she was, indeed, missing out something important. It was close to midday, and Amity hadn’t headed to school yet – instead, her and Eda were pouring over a singular piece of paper on the kitchen table, talking in barely-hushed voices.

“Guys?” Luz asked, interrupting. Two heads turned to face her.

“Luz,” Eda greeted, eyes squinting at her. “No offense, but you kind of look like crap. Are you okay?”

Luz opened her mouth, but King kicked her shin, and she shut it to hiss. “I’m… tired, and… you know,” she eluded. “I woke up and it was a bad day.”

Amity remained silent, looking between her and Eda. “A bad day?” Eda asked. “Like… a bad day? Like that one time…”

“Yeah,” Luz said, a hand coming up to rub at one of her eyes. She needed to sit down, rest her head on a surface, and close her eyes. She needed to be hugged. “But – it’s fine, for now. I can manage it. Are we doing something important?”

Eda looked hesitant to let Luz in on the plan, so her eyes shifted over to Amity. “Yeah,” Amity said, looking back to the piece of paper. “We’re fleshing out the my parents thing.”

“Right,” said Luz, the weights attached to her feet making her drag them across the floor to see the paper. “What have you got?”

“Not a lot,” she shrugged. “We were planning ways to catch them off guard – I listed what I knew about their schedules, and we were just talking about maybe confronting them outside their workshop.”

“It’d be a public setting, so no threats,” Luz said. “That’s good, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re also very close to some threatening abomination creations, plus whatever else they keep in that creepy-ass warehouse,” Eda pointed out. “Which is why it’s another no-go.”

Eda picked up a pen, and crossed ‘WAREHOUSE’ straight through.

“What if I just go to their house?” Amity asked. “I mean – at least we’ll have the element of surprise, right? And then you guys can… I don’t know, come?”

“You can’t go back,” protested Eda.

“I don’t want to go back,” Amity replied, slightly snappish, “but… they’re making things difficult for you. I can endure a half-hour.”

“What if it isn’t a half-hour?” Luz asked, turning to Amity. “What if they’re prepared for your return, and they lock you up, or something. And our plan totally backfires, and we lose you.”

“Woah, there,” Eda chuckled nervously, placing a warm hand on Luz’s shoulder. “That’s kind of extreme.”

“And what if it fails anyway?” Luz continued. “We can’t let them have her back – we – you can’t go back, Amity. We’re so underprepared; we have to get this plan perfectly right, or else-“

“Alright,” Eda interrupted. “Luz. Take a couple breaths. Everything will be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” Luz shook her head, fighting the urge to bury her face in her hands. “You don’t – I’m just –“

“I know,” said Amity. “I’m scared, too. But… if it helps, I just remember that I have you guys. Fighting in my corner.”

Their eyes met, and Luz felt the tips of her ears heat, even in her exhaustion. Amity was giving her such a warm, genuine smile. It was open, and trusting, and… if she didn’t look away, it was going to be the thing that sent her into tears.

“Sorry.” Luz looked down to King, who was hugging her leg. “I just… bad day.”

“We should’ve expected it,” Eda said. “After what you just went through – of course it wouldn’t all go away in one night.”

Amity blinked. “Is that why..?”

“I think so,” Luz said, finally taking a seat, body unceremoniously hunching over the tabletop as much as socially acceptable. “Plus… sometimes, I just get like this.”

“So… it wasn’t anything to do with – to, you know, with last night?”

Luz blinked, slow and dreary. Last night – sh*t. “No!” She sprang up, grabbing both of Amity’s hands in her own and as if they could act as a beacon to convey her honesty. “Last night was amazing. I wouldn’t change it for the world. I promise this is just – completely separate.”

“Last night?” Eda asked, a suggestive lilt to her voice. “I know you’re teenagers – practically young adults – but maybe I should sit you two down and have a real talk about the dangers of –“

“No, thank you,” Luz said, eyes widening at the insinuation. “That isn’t what we meant.”

Eda softened. “Yeah, I presumed. You two dorks don’t really seem like the types.”

Amity let out a long, weary sigh. “That’s good,” she said. “I – I’m glad that last night happened, too. I just overthought it.”

“That’s fine!” Luz said, squeezing Amity’s hands. Were Luz’s own hands clammy? “I would’ve too, probably. It’s all fine.”

“Okay.” Amity said. “Anyway, then. Should we get back to…?”

* * *

Luz stepped outside, to take out the trash, and somehow stepped straight into the Blight Manor living room. A chill crept up her spine (crept wasn’t quite the word for it – a bone-aching, freezing cold overtook her entire ribcage, nailing her to the ground and preventing her from responding when Mrs Blight greeted her in a similarly cold tone.)

“Luz,” she said, lounged across the couch in a way that was elegantly serpent-like, a glass of dark liquid in one hand. “So great to see you again.”

She forced herself to take a breath. She was too damned tired for this – this panic to be crawling up her chest.

“What do you want?” She asked, still standing – perhaps only so that she could make Mrs Blight look up at her. Her heart beat erratically in her chest. “We’ve already talked.”

“Oh, but I just wanted to check in.” One of Mrs Blight’s fingers traced the rim of her glass. “See how things are going with you.”

“As if you don’t know,” Luz frowned. “You can just use your Oracle magic.”

“Hmm.” Mrs Blight was looking over her manicured nails, now – anything to avoid looking at Luz. “That’s a bit invasive, don’t you think?”

“And transporting me here against my will at your every whim isn’t?”

At this, Mrs Blight smirked. “I just prefer to have a face-to-face talk.”

Luz crossed her arms over her chest. “Too bad, I guess,” she said. “I’m not talking.”

Mrs Blight let out a laugh – shrill and fake, and grating on Luz’s ears. “Oh, child. As if you have any choice in the matter.”

“What?” Asked Luz. But Mrs Blight didn’t appear to hear her – already standing.

“I’m done with you… for now,” she said, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. Despite its slow pace, Luz couldn’t help but flinch back, memories of the last time Mrs Blight had touched her arising to the front of her mind, unwarranted. Her arms came up defensively. “You don’t want to talk? Fine.”

“She’s not coming back,” Luz said, almost a growl. But it didn’t even seem to affect Mrs Blight.

“See you soon,” responded Mrs Blight, before her palm finally landed on Luz’s shoulder, transporting her back in a dizzying wave of discombobulation.

Luz was back outside the Owl House – next to the bag of trash she’d taken out no less than ten minutes ago. Feeling a sudden rise of nausea in her chest, she leant over to the side, and hurled what remained of her meal from the night before.

After a while, of dry-heaving and crying at the acidic taste in her mouth and down her throat, Luz found some vestige of strength – just about enough to compose herself. She stood up, wiping at the tears on her face. The… seemingly endless stream of tears, that despite how much she furiously wiped, didn’t seem to stop coming.

f*ck. f*ck. Her feelings crested inside her and then kept on going, leaving her gasping for air, choking on leftover bile that still coated the inside of her mouth, leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. She pulled her hands over her ears, shutting her eyes as tight as she can, focussing on breathing.

She was so, so tired. She was hopeless, too – and so was Amity. They’d lose her. It was her fault. It was her fault.

“Luz?” Came a voice, foggy and distant, and Luz vaguely registered that she was on the floor now, probably sat in her own vomit, barely keeping herself from hyperventilating. “Luz!”

She wanted to pass out. She wanted today to have been easy – to have been able to curl up with King. She wanted her mom. She… she didn’t want to do this, anymore. It was too hard.

“Luz!” Came the voice again, and hands found her shoulders, shaking them roughly until her brain felt like it was ricocheting on the opposite sides of her skull. She choked again – on her own spit, or bile, she didn’t know, but the panic of not being able to breathe for a second sent more tears pouring down her face.

How embarrassing. The person besides her let go of her, running away. Away – just like everybody else. Abandoning her. She was alone.

Maybe she was meant to be alone. She’d fought it, all this time – but maybe it was true. Everybody leaving her. Nobody wanting to be her friend. Nobody sticking with her, through it all. She was too difficult to take up other peoples’ time.

More voices – a warmth, against her back, and she was suddenly weightless, being shaken again, although softer this time. Her eyes shut tighter, and she tried to curl in on herself.

Bad day. Bad day. Her fault. Bad day.

She was set down on a soft surface, and the warmth was gone. Voices – voices she could hear but couldn’t understand, words blurring into each other, distorting strangely until it felt like they were speaking another language.

Hours – what felt like hours – passed. She remained, in a sort of limbo where all she could focus on was trying to breathe, trying not to pass out. If she passed out, who would breathe for her? She wouldn’t survive it.

And then someone was speaking Spanish to her, and combing her hair with their fingers, and her tears came harder but she could breathe, a little easier. That was what Luz came to, to – her mother, in the Owl House living room, whispering that everything was going to be okay, over and over and over.

“Mom?” Luz’s voice cracked, even as she leant into her mother’s touch. “What-“

“Shh,” Camilia said, pulling Luz’s head to her breastbone and continuing to stroke through her hair. “Focus on breathing. In for 4, out for 8.”

Luz obeyed – breathing in tandem with her mom. Slowly, she regained control over her senses. Her eyes opened, crusted with dry tears, and she saw Eda, holding one of her hands, tears in her eyes. “Hey, kid,” Eda said, voice shaking slightly. “Welcome back.”

Luz forced her lips to quirk up, slightly. She didn’t really want to talk. She just… she wanted to sleep.

Her eyes shut again. Her breathing was better, now; that bite of acid against her tongue was still present, though. Breathing, in and out, she continued to centre herself against her mom’s heartbeat, pounding against one ear.

Camilia’s hand stilled in her hair, rubbing affectionately at the tip of her ear. “That was a bad one, huh mija?” She said. “You’re okay now.”

“Bad day,” said Luz.

Camilia hummed as if that explained everything (which – she supposed it did.) “Do you want to sleep?”

Luz nodded, cheek scratching against the itchy fabric of her mom’s shirt. “Okay,” said her mom. “Okay, then let’s go.”

She was picked up again, and this time the steps were steady and even, not shaking her at all. She leant into her mother’s touch – feeling Eda’s hand slip out of hers.

Camilia took her up the stairs, into her bedroom, and set her down. “Why didn’t you tell somebody you were having a day like this?” She asked softly, when it was just the two of them.

“They were busy,” Luz said, curling up. “Things are pretty stressful here, at the moment.”

“It doesn’t matter how stressful things are,” Camilia said, brushing Luz’s hair behind one ear, “you have to put yourself first. This one was bad, mija. Eda came through the portal-door crying.”

“Oh,” was all Luz could say. She hadn’t wondered, up until that point, why it was her mom that was comforting her even though they were still in the Boiling Isles. “Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” Camilia placed a kiss at the crown of Luz’s head, before tucking her in. “Just… please, Luz. You have to know when to ask for help. You have to know your own limits.”

“I do,” Luz insisted. “I just… today… it was hard.”

“I know it was,” Camilia stood. “Get some rest, alright?”

Luz nodded, letting her eyes shut. “See you, mom.”

“Bye,” her mom turned to go, shutting the door quietly behind her. Luz let out a deep sigh.

Voices began conversing, softly but agitated, outside her door. Luz couldn’t even muster up a groan at the noise.

The door cracked open again, and a little scuttle of feet was heard, walking towards the head of her bed. Luz opened her eyes to see King, again – in a way that was so reminiscent of that morning, that it summoned a small smile.

“Hi, King,” she whispered.

“Hi,” he whispered back quietly, climbing up onto her bed besides her. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, buddy,” she said, opening her arms and inviting him in for a hug – like she would a teddy bear. King obliged, slotting himself in-between her arms. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” King said, moving his head slightly until his skull dug into Luz’s chin, almost uncomfortably. “I’m just glad you’re better, now.”

“Yeah,” said Luz. Out of nowhere, she felt tears spring to her eyes at the statement. “I’m just…” she started, voice wobbling. “Bad days, you know?”

King lay there and hugged her arm, as Luz began, once again, to cry.

Chapter 27: eda interlude i

Chapter Text

Edalyn Clawthorne had never wanted to be a mother. She’d made that bright decision at fifteen years old – at home with her curse but still not quite used to it, and slowly coming to the realization that she was a terrible person.

It wasn’t her fault, per se, that she was a bad person – that was undeniably a mix of external factors that she couldn’t control. Her mom, who was overbearing even before she’d turned into an owlish monster in front of their eyes, had instilled in her a whole plethora of traits she didn’t exactly want to pass down. Her father… who looked at her with fear, before he stopped looking at her all together, left a hollow hole in her chest that she filled with anger she’d never like to take out on a child. And – well, she was cursed. It’d just be cruel, to bring a baby into the world that had to deal with her.

Besides. Even before she’d been cursed, Eda hadn’t exactly been the best person.

She stuck to this conclusion like a witch-frog to a magic oak. She did not want to be a mother. She didn’t want to f*ck up a kid. She didn’t want a kid to – if she was the one having the kid – turn out half-cursed, or something, and then have to deal with everything Eda had to, despite being completely innocent.

As far as Eda knew, she might deserve the curse. She didn’t know who did it – only that somebody did, and despite being in a house full of other people, on a street full of other houses, she was the only one targeted. There was a motive; one she didn’t know. She’d done something bad enough to get cursed; she just didn’t know what, yet.

This conclusion, however, left her in a strangely specific sort of stalemate in her own life. As she grew up, without the goal of ‘settle down, have children’ (as if Edalyn was ever the type to settle down in the first place), her life stretched further and further away from what everybody else considered socially acceptable. She fought the school system. She fought the magic she wasn’t able to do. She fought her family at every turn, despite knowing they were only trying to help.

She was cursed? Fine. She found herself becoming the exact type of person she hated, all under the guise of a half-hearted excuse. She found herself caring less and less about her education. Less and less about her looks, as her hair turned grey and grew into a nest. Less and less about her family (and she couldn’t quite stop caring about her family, but it grew easier to push them away, and to blame it all on the Titan-damned curse.)

The only thing she seemed to cling onto, time and time again, was her magic. It was her life; it was her world, and the curse, at least, hadn’t meddled with that aspect of her. She poured energy – good and bad, both the bright and the heavy, deep anger – into improving her magic, learning to use it despite the presence of something other in her chest, in the back of her mind, pulsating with every heartbeat. Magic was her reprieve; and, maybe one day, magic could be her cure.

As she grew absorbed, she found herself forgetting the things around her – losing sight of them, and instead spending hours upon hours locking herself up in an old, abandoned house she’d found, practicing spells that pushed through walls, only to use magic to rebuild them again. Lilith, especially – her dearest sister, once – seemed to grow up all at once, until one day she was looking up at a young girl with wide-framed glasses and bushy hair and buck teeth, and the next she was looking at a woman. A woman who sneered at half the things she said, and remained cautious when around her, and that Eda suddenly didn’t know, anymore.

Lilith graduated from Hexside and entered the Emperor’s Coven, and Eda decided it was time for her to have a change of scenery, too.

She’d found a small place – an old house barely standing, with the roof caved in and plants crawling their way up the grey-ish brick, trying to pull the house down into the earth itself. A place she’d practiced magic in for years, now – a place she’d been calling home in the deepest parts of her heart even before she admitted it to herself. A flick of her hand (perhaps that was an exaggeration: she was good, but not that good) and it looked fairly new – minus the ugly tower sticking out of the back.

Oh, whatever, she figured, entering her new home. It could be a relic, for old time’s sake.

After repairing the house, she spent time digging up the rights for the land – if she was going to own a house, she was going to own a house. The plot of land was vast, encompassing a good chunk of the forest to one side of it – they’d cut a bunch of trees down, to make a house for a powerful witch, hundreds of years ago; and after she’d died, it had been left empty, isolated. It was big, and in Eda’s opinion, a great place to live – but nobody wanted to live that far away from society; from other people.

Nobody except Eda.

They sold her the plot of land, and thanked her for restoring the house upon it. They explained the history – that the forest had been full of Owls, and the woman had been a Beast Keeper – one of the first of her kind. The Owl Forest, and the Owl House, and the Owl Lady.

Eda signed the papers. She’d be the new Owl Lady, then.

* * *

The first time she’d questioned her conclusion was when King came into her life. Years upon years of isolation – and suddenly she wasn’t alone, and it wasn’t just her and the walls of the house, breathing in tandem, silent.

Suddenly, she had something besides herself to care for… and she wasn’t bad at it.

King wasn’t a child, of course. Perhaps that was why she wasn’t so deathly scared of raising him wrong. He was… time-consuming, and she made mistakes, but he grew up okay (minus the believing he was King of the Demons thing… but that was an issue for future Eda, and it made him happy.)

She’d had King for a long time – long enough that their lives seemed to melt into one another, until her day was indistinguishable to his, and they were probably a little unhealthily co-dependent. But the point was, she’d had some experience, at least, when Luz stumbled messily into her life.

* * *

“Good morning.” Eda turned at the voice, nursing a cup of tea, to see Amity’s familiar green hair peeking out at her from the kitchen doorway. They’d settled into a sort-of-routine, the two of them – Eda was always up early with the calls of the owls from the forest (nobody else heard them but her) and Amity tended to have nightmares, or wake up and be unsettled, unable to fall back asleep.

Both of them, despite Eda’s obvious vivaciousness, were used to silence. Eda had had silence for such a long time, when she was alone – when she had just moved out, and the town hated her, and her family hated her, and the world hated her – and her voice had gotten low and hoarse from years of misuse, or no use at all. Amity… Eda couldn’t say what Amity had been through, but she recognised when a kid was a little traumatised, and she knew how she’d have liked to have been treated when she was younger – with respect, at the least – and so they sat. In silence.

It was… nice. Relaxing. A sort of bonding experience she’d never had with anybody else.

That morning, Eda had been in the kitchen, pouring over ideas for what to do about Amity’s parents – she’d broken their routine. But Amity… Amity had been brave enough to step into the kitchen, and call her name. They were making progress, the two of them.

“Morning,” Eda greeted back, hoping all of that thought and emotion wasn’t visible on her face. “Come. Sit.”

Amity obeyed, sliding almost silently into a stool. “What are you doing?” She asked, not looking at the sheet of paper displayed in front of her, but not looking quite at Eda, either.

“Figuring some things out.” Eda let out a sigh, rubbing at an increasingly-present crease in-between her eyebrows. “We’ve gotta sort out the issue with your parents.”

Amity nodded gravely. “Sorry about them,” she said, voice small and guilt-ridden.

“It’s not your fault,” Eda waved her off. “We just need to work at it, right?”

“No, I’m –“ Amity sighed. “They’re pretty stubborn people. I’m saying sorry because I know what they can do.”

“Stubborn… how?” Eda asked, making sure to keep her voice soft, casual. Her eyes remained on the paper in front of her, but she still caught Amity’s tentative glance from Eda’s face back to her lap through her peripherals.

“When I… ran away,” Amity began. “It was because they were being difficult about an issue I couldn’t resolve.”

Intrigued, and somewhat worried, Eda hummed, looking up to give Amity her full attention. “What do you mean by that?” She asked.

Amity bit her lip, hard enough for it to pale under the pressure, before letting out a long sigh. “I told them I don’t like boys,” she said. “And… they didn’t take it very well. At first, it was just my father, and he said it was okay, as long as I could pretend – marry a boy, and start a family with one, and only be me in private.”

Eda winced – except, Amity wasn’t done with the story.

“Then my mother came to me, and told me she’d done some research about witches that… treated that kind of thing. Not proven, scientific magic – all the horror stuff you see in bad movies. She tried to frame it like she was helping me, but she was so disappointed, and when I told her I didn’t want to go…”

Connecting the dots was pretty easy. f*ck. Eda was going to murder Amity’s parents. “So you left?”

“The next morning. Packed some stuff, but I lost it all by week three. And… now I’m here.”

Eda reached out to place a hand gently on Amity’s shoulder. “Thank you for trusting me with that story,” she said genuinely. “I’m sure you know this already, but what your parents suggested is wrong. Nobody should ever do that to a child.”

“I’m not a child,” Amity said, before slumping slightly. “But… I know. Mostly.”

A long stretch of comfortable silence passed, giving both of them time to process the conversation. “Your parents suck,” Eda said, after a while. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. What you’re feeling is completely normal, Amity, and it will never affect the way I think about you.”

As far as emotional pep-talks went, Eda felt like she hadn’t royally f*cked that one up, and was pretty happy to leave it there – until she heard sniffling from besides her. She turned, eyes widening, as Amity bowed her head to wipe at the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Sorry,” Amity said, hands skating across her face. “I’m – I’ve just never had an adult care for me like this.”

Warmth and bitter cold filled Eda’s chest simultaneously – warmth, because Amity was her responsibility now, and they were finally at the stage where Amity knew that Eda cared about her. Cold – dark, and heavy, and directed solely at the Blights, and all the people that made their kids feel that way. The protective streak that had been forging itself into her chest was burning like acid alongside her heart; it carved out a place for itself in her chest, and then nestled in.

“I care,” Eda said, voice shaky from the pain or the pure, raw emotion. “I always will.”

* * *

If there was one thing Eda could relate to, it was mess. She had lived a life of disorder, it seemed – a mess that couldn’t be planned, or pieced together. She never seemed to know what she was doing, and there was no step-by-step because there had never been anybody like her before.

Luz was like her – so much like her – and yet so different. It felt like, looking back on it, one day Eda and King had been missing something, and the next, Luz had been there to fill it up. There was no adjustment period with her – just a sudden place for Luz in Eda’s heart, far deeper and stronger than she’d ever planned on giving away.

And some days – days when Eda felt like a walking pile of baggage, of stress and unforgiveness, of cold, unwanted isolation – she had a family, there, propping her up. When she worried herself into the night, about f*cking a child up, about her original conclusion, she looked to the two kids that hadn’t been hers by blood, but had forged themselves right alongside her, and had turned out just fine.

That’s how she knew – how she began untangling the lies of her original conclusion. She wanted kids, if this was what having kids was like – she wanted to be free of the fear of passing burdens that she should bear alone, down a family tree. She wanted… she wanted to live, and she wanted the two of them in her life alongside her.

In that way, it was simple. It would always be simple. Despite the inevitability of her making mistakes, or doing something wrong… it could always just go back to that.

* * *

“You can’t go in,” Camilia said to her, later that evening. Luz was… Luz was in pain – a pain Eda hadn’t been able to fix – and she’d stumbled through the portal and into the human world, slamming herself into the Noceda front door and begging Camilia to come back with her.

The desperation lingered on Eda’s skin, beside the sheen of slivery perspiration. She’d been so… scared. Luz hadn’t been breathing. Luz was a happy child.

“I need to know if she’s okay,” Eda said, crossing her arms over her chest and hoping the vulnerability – the emotion – didn’t show through her voice. She cared, of course she did. But showing any more weakness today felt a little too much like a trap. If she could, Eda would like to avoid it.

“She’s fine,” Camilia said. “She needs time to recover. She’s sleeping.”

“Then it’ll be fine if I take a look, kiss her on the cheek, cast a protective rune, and go on my merry way,” Eda bit out – far more spite in her voice than she’d intended.

“You’ve done enough,” Camilia said, matching her hard glare with equally steely words. “Let her be. I’ll stay to watch over her.”

Eda opened her mouth to respond – she didn’t know what exactly she’d say, but she knew it would be bitter and intending to hurt – but King stepped between the two and cleared his throat.

“Can I go in?” He asked, looking at Camilia. And Eda watched the incredible phenomenon of Camilia’s face softening as she looked down at him.

“Don’t wake her,” she said, voice quiet and caring again, and hitting Eda like a slap, all at once. And then Camilia opened the door, and King padded in softly, claws clicking against the wooden floorboards.

Camilia shut the door again softly, making sure there wasn’t any noise to disturb Luz, before turning back to Eda. “What was that?” Eda asked. “You let him in?”

“King is a harmless cuddly toy,” Camilia responded. She kept her hand on the doorknob – as if Eda would ignore her words, and lunge into the room (and, fair enough, Eda supposed, because that did sound like something Eda would do.) “He always makes Luz feel better.”

“So do I.” Eda fumed, now, at the injustice or the overwhelming fear of having just experienced one of her kids so… unlike herself. “I see her as my own child, Camilia.”

“She’s not yours,” Camilia was whispering, but the words shot venom through Eda. “Come downstairs.”

“What?” Eda asked, baffled at the sudden change.

“We need to talk properly. We’re disturbing Luz, having a conversation out here.”

They stared each other down, for a moment – both waiting for the other to go first. Eda raised an eyebrow, to which Camilia looked pointedly towards the stairs, hand still on the doorknob.

Fighting the urge to groan loudly, Eda gave in, barely holding back from stomping her way down the stairs. Tension filled her body like a knife’s edge – like a nest of river-crows, waiting to swoop down on their prey. She could feel Camilia’s gaze on the back of her head, likely icy and frigid.

They got downstairs quickly, Eda leading the way into the living room. As soon as she was far enough, she spun around to look at Camilia, glaring with all the fury inside of her. “I have a right to see her,” Eda argued immediately.

“She is my daughter,” Camilia emphasized. Eda scoffed loudly.

“We always have this argument, and it always goes nowhere,” she said, bringing her hands up hopelessly. “Who’s raising her? Who’s cooking for her, and making sure she goes to school, and teaching her magic, and keeping her safe? Because it sure as hell isn’t you.”

“I did those things for fourteen years.” Camilia stood her ground, even as Eda felt like pacing, if only to get some of this negative energy out of her. “She picked to be here – but I am still her home.”

“Her home is here!” Eda barely held herself from yelling, and that was only because she knew Luz was trying to sleep upstairs. “I am raising her, too! I deserve to see her. I deserve to know that she’s okay!”

“And whose fault is it that she’s not okay!” Camilia yelled back.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and Eda felt hurt like a sudden vice around her chest at the words. It began twisting, forcing mean and ugly words up her throat – but they died on her tongue, the moment she looked at Camilia’s face.

Camilia looked like she was about to cry.

“I’m sorry,” Camilia started, her voice just above a whisper, as tears fell down her cheeks. “I know you’re trying your best. And – I know you’re right. This is Luz’s home, and you are raising her.”

“Hey,” Eda began, but shock left her with nothing to say.

“No,” Camilia shook her head, “you are right. It’s just – Luz picked to be here. Picked you, over me. And… I just want her to be happy, but when it comes to emergencies like this, I can’t be there for her.”

“You were here, though,” said Eda. “When she needed you today.”

Camilia wiped at a cheek, continuing even though her face was flushed with emotion. “What if I’d been on shift? Or – or what if I was out getting groceries, and there was nobody there for her?”

“I-“ Eda cut herself off as Camilia cupped her face in her hands, shoulders shaking as sobs overtook. Camilia was… insecure? But Camilia was the best mother in the whole world. She always knew what to do.

“Hey,” Eda said again, walking over and wrapping Camilia up in a tight hug, even as Camilia continued to sob into her own hands. “It’s okay. You were here. She’s okay.”

How was it, that the best mother Eda knew, was also insecure about being a mother? Was it not just Eda that was worried?

“You’re the best mother Luz could ever ask for,” Eda continued. “Really. She loves you, so much.”

Camilia let out an ugly sniff, pulling back from Eda’s arms. “No,” she said. “Luz loves you.”

“Can’t she love us both?” Asked Eda, softly, and they both exchanged a small smile. Camilia sucked in a deep breath, placing both hands on her head and tilting her face up to the ceiling.

“Sorry about crying,” she said. “It’s just – sometimes – you know. It gets to me, having my only daughter missing.”

“You’re always welcome,” Eda suggested. “Even if it’s just for an evening.”

“Really?” Camilia wiped under her nose, and Eda graciously looked away to preserve the other woman’s dignity. “Maybe I can cook, then – save this family from disaster.”

Family?

Eda turned, and saw Amity peering in at them from the kitchen doorway. “Hey, kid,” she said, putting on a smile that was both heavy and light, all at once. “Sorry if we worried you.”

Amity shook her head softly, stepping until she was completely in the doorway. “It’s fine,” she said. “I, uh… I think you’re both great.”

Eda scoffed. “No offence, kid, but your mom-experiences are pretty subpar. I’d be hurt if we were anything less.”

“Hey!” Amity protested, but Eda’s joke had worked in putting a small smile on her face.

Eda looked back over at Camilia, who had successfully wiped the fluids off her face, although it was still splotchy and warm. “You know,” she began, “we are kind of like a family, huh.”

“A very cool one,” Camilia said, likely for Amity’s benefit. “Now… do you two want to come and check up on Luz?”

Chapter 28: recipe books

Chapter Text

There was a bowl of soup by her side, and its steam on her face was what woke Luz up. Her room was blissfully dark, and her head was groggy and aching, and her skin felt tight and dry, drawn taut over her face like a bowstring. There was a hand in her hair, too, barely there, brushing her curls against the pillow in a move that was lulling her slowly back to sleep.

Steam. Soup. Luz opened her eyes.

Eda’s warm face, eyes crinkling at the edges in a gentle smile, greeted her. “Hey, kiddo,” she said quietly. “You hungry?”

Luz’s tongue felt heavy in her mouth, so she nodded, cheek shifting against the pillow. “Good,” Eda said. “Mind sitting up for me?”

Eda set the soup down, and moved to help shift Luz upwards. Her blanket shifted off of her torso as she rose, until she was half-hunched over herself and suddenly exposed to the colder air of the room. An involuntary shiver passed through her, and then the piping-hot bowl of soup was placed in her hands, steam rising up to her face again and bringing the smallest of respites from the cold. The soup smelled good – like her mom’s did. It was a special recipe that had never been given a name, that her mom used to make with chicken stock and mushrooms. She’d never been able to have it in the Boiling Isles, though, because all mushrooms here were deadly to humans.

“What is it?” She asked.

“Your mom made soup before she left,” said Eda. “It’s safe to eat – she said you liked it. Drink up.”

And Luz obeyed, bringing a spoonful of the liquid up to her mouth and slurping. It was good – sending a jolt of warm down her throat and into her stomach. “Thanks,” she said, realising how hungry she actually was.

“No problem,” said Eda. They sat, for another moment, as Luz picked up a small piece of carrot with her spoon, chewing on it contemplatively. “I’ll leave you to eat.”

Luz nodded, as Eda pressed a kiss to her cheek, and began walking to the door. As it cracked open, a sliver of light slipped through the doorway, causing Luz to squint. It was gone as fast as it came, though – and she was left alone. In the dark.

It was actually rather… comforting.

She continued to eat in silence for a while, enjoying the heat in her hands and her chest, and the complete lack of noise. The grogginess remained, and it felt like exhaustion, despite Luz having slept away most of the afternoon (and, going by context clues, well into the evening, she presumed). But waking up slowly, like this – to foods that she liked, and no worry of having to interpret sounds, or voices, or movements – it was nice.

The door slid open again – just a few inches – and Amity peeked her head through the gap. “Hey,” she said, voice soft and calm. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Luz said, slurping another spoon of the soup. A brief thought passed through her head – that she probably looked terrible, as she always did after too much crying and too much sleep, with her face all swollen and her hair stood up at every angle – but it seemed to just slip back out of her thoughts, the same way it came. It was dark in here, anyway. Nobody would see.

“It’s dark in here,” said Amity, shutting the door behind her and tiptoeing towards Luz.

“Yeah,” Luz said. “Want some soup?”

“Oh, no thank you,” Amity refused as she sat down besides Luz’s bed. “I already had some. At… normal dinner-eating times.”

“Did you like it?”

“Yeah,” Amity said earnestly. “Your mom said it’s your favourite.”

“It is.”

Amity smiled, squinting through the darkness to try and make out a Luz-shaped figure. “I’m glad you get to have it, then,” she said. “You must have missed it.”

“Yeah,” Luz said, looking back down at the bowl. It was half-empty, now, and the bowl was chipped at one edge, just slightly, and she felt like crying all over again, but not from sadness.

“How are you feeling?” Amity asked, looking from Luz’s face to the bowl. Maybe Amity could see the shine of tears in Luz’s eyes, even in the darkness – or maybe the air, the air that felt everything, had whispered the question into her ear.

Luz swallowed back a lump in her throat. “Better,” she said.

* * *

Luz first realised her mother wasn’t a very good cook when she was nine. It was a good six or so months since they’d gotten a house, just the two of them, without abuela’s shuffling every morning before the sun came up, and abuelo’s deep, chesty snoring from the paper-thin wall of the bedroom Luz and her mother shared. But not being able to cook hadn’t been an issue – they’d had almost daily visits, with her abuela bringing food and smiles and sitting in the kitchen with her mother and chatting well into the evening.

The day Luz realised, she’d gotten home late from school after a library visit (her mom’s shift had been one of the long ones that finished later, and Luz was well-accustomed to getting the bus two times a week), and dumped her bag and her homework, moving into the kitchen to get something to eat.

Except… there was nothing to eat. Their fridge was full of vegetables, and leftovers, and raw meat – but no snacks. That was fine, though – cooking wasn’t exactly a foreign concept to her. She’d seen those famous chefs on TV, too, with their huge white smiles, and their sizzling pans, and their advertisem*nts to learn to cook, just like me!

There were no cookbooks on Luz’s counter.

When her mom got home, Luz was eating a carrot (she couldn’t find the small ones in bags that she usually took to school, for lunch – but a big one, minus the gross parts on the outside, was similar enough) and doing homework. “Hola, mija,” Camilia called, shutting the door behind her. “How was your day at school?”

Luz turned around to see her mother hang up a coat. “Good!” She said, voice slightly slurred by the food in her mouth. “At lunch, Mrs Reay led a reading club, and we read Harry Potter.”

“Mrs Reay, the librarian?” Her mom asked, walking over to place a kiss on her forehead. “I thought we agreed you were going to stop spending your breaks in the library, mija. What about making friends?”

“I’m trying,” Luz insisted, turning back to the TV as Camilia bustled herself into the kitchen. “The other kids don’t like me.”

“They won’t like you if you’re not trying!” Camilia called from the kitchen. “Luz… why is the fridge open?”

Camilia poked her head back around the corner, and Luz smiled sheepishly. “I got hungry,” she said, taking another bite of the carrot.

“What?” Camilia walked over, sitting on the couch besides Luz. “Mija, I’ll make you food. You don’t have to eat a raw carrot.”

“I was hungry,” Luz repeated. “And I like carrots.”

Her mother searched her eyes for a few, long moments – and Luz took the time to bite another chunk of the carrot off. “Wow,” Camilia chuckled, hugging her suddenly. “My little conejita.”

“I’m not a bunny!” Luz protested, pushing out of Camilia’s embrace. “I’m just hungry.”

“And I’ll cook for you,” Camilia said, letting Luz loose and standing up. “Alright. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

Luz watched as her mom stood, walking over to the kitchen and rifling around. Standing from the couch, she followed, footsteps dragging across the floor as she came to stand in the doorway.

“What are you making?” Luz asked, as Camilia pulled seemingly random ingredients out of the fridge, placing them on the countertop.

“Oh, just throwing some things together,” her mom answered, distracted as she searched for a peeler. “Quick and easy. My mom used to do it all the time.”

Luz nodded, jumping up onto one side of the counter and busying herself with watching. Watching the cooking shows had always been fun – those people had always had six different pots going at once, and had done it all with a smile on their faces. And her mom was the best – she could do just as good, if not better, than them.

Camilia moved from place to place, and Luz had a front row seat to her getting more and more frazzled. She was muttering to herself in broken, incomplete Spanish phrases, too low and slurred together for Luz to pick up – and then they were both screaming as one of the pans lit on fire.

Picking it up, Camilia dumped it straight into the sink, face-down, before throwing a spare dish-towel over the top for good measure. The distinct smell of burning food (or pan, she supposed) filled the room, as her mom turned back to her.

“Well,” Camilia said, exhaling a deep breath. “How do you feel about pizza?”

* * *

In her memory, Luz couldn’t pinpoint the exact date her mom had started taking cooking classes – at the local community college, and from her abuela, when their schedules lined up – but she always attributed it to around that time where the two of them almost burnt the kitchen down. With the change, came excitement, at the prospect of new food each evening for the two of them to try out.

It also came with the realisation that her mom really didn’t have a lot of free time. And now, what time she did have was sacrificed, and Luz barely got to see her apart from when Camilia kissed her on her way out to get the bus to school, or in sleepy murmurs past Luz’s bedtime, when Camilia snuck into her bedroom and roused her, if only to ask how her day was, before sending her back to sleep.

Luz began taking the bus every day. And she also got to see a lot more of her abuelos, which she supposed was a good thing. Her mom called that babysitting (although Luz liked to joke with abuela Maria that they were just playdates in disguise.)

She saw less and less of her mother – and in her absence, she began to wonder what it might be like to have a father. The thought didn’t come on just like that, of course… and Luz was young, but she wasn’t blind. She saw all the kids at school, with both their parents at every school play, and every recital, and wondered why she had one, and not two.

And she didn’t even really care who it was, whether he was related to her by blood. But… wasn’t her mom even looking? Why did she not get a dad?

Months later, her mom comes home with a cookbook of Latin American food, from the second-hand bookstore four blocks away. Luz sits in front of the TV, and does her homework, and watches every night as her mom makes her way through every recipe in that book, night after night, until the whole book is memorised like the back of her palm – before moving to the next.

She comes home with a second book. And a third. And a collection of scribbled recipes from a woman she’d been taking the cooking classes with, that had kept in contact, if only for a while. And a photo of her abuelas favourite recipes from yet another cookbook.

One day, as they were eating dinner, Luz set her fork to the side and asked, “why don’t I have a dad?”

* * *

Her mom didn’t speak to her for two days. She did speak, of course – wishing Luz a good day at school, and asking her what she wants for dinner, and whether she has homework. But they didn’t talk. Not really.

On the third day, Camilia arrives home, took off her shoes and coat, and entered the living room to see a teary Luz. “I’m sorry,” said Luz, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Camilia shook her head, bending down to pull Luz into a hug. “No, mija,” she began, “it’s me that should be sorry. I just… I didn’t know how to answer.”

“I don’t need a dad,” Luz continued, burying her face into the familiar scent of her mother’s shoulders (tarnished, slightly, by the sceptic coolness of her scrubs – Luz hated that scratchy fabric.) “You’re the best mom ever.”

“Come on,” Camilia said, letting Luz go and walking over to the kitchen. “Let’s have a talk, hmm?”

Luz jumped up onto the countertop, letting her legs swing as Camilia moved around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients. “What are you making?” Asked Luz, tears replaced by curiosity.

Camilia shrugged. “Something new. Just for you and me. What’s your favourite vegetable?”

“Mushrooms,” Luz answered, and Camilia got them out.

“What else?” She asked.

“Chicken!” Luz said. Camilia chuckled, grabbing that, too. That pattern continued – Camilia let Luz pick out a few more random ingredients, before adding her own choices to the mix.

“And carrots,” she added with a cheeky wink Luz’s way, “for my little conejita.”

“I’m not a bunny!” Luz protested, although she was grinning. Camilia grinned back, turning on a radio sat besides Luz, and humming along to the song that began playing. Luz hummed, too, as Camilia began to prepare ingredients, chopping and cooking and pouring and all, stopping every now and again to dance with Luz around the kitchen, or poke into her sides teasingly and making her giggle.

Eventually, there was a pot on the stove, simmering softly, and Camilia put the lid onto it and walked over to Luz, shifting herself up onto the countertop besides her. She reached out to turn the music on the radio down, until it was a hum in the background, like the hissing of the flame, and the buzzing of the lightbulb above them.

Her mom turned to face her, face suddenly more serious, but no less soft. “I think it’s time we talk about your father.”

Luz found that her lower lip was trembling, as she said, “I don’t need a dad. I’m happy just the two of us.”

“I know you are, and I’m happy too. But I think you’re mature enough, now, that we can have a proper conversation about it.”

A burst of pride spread through Luz’s chest at the word mature. “Okay,” she said.

“Your father…” Camilia began, “wasn’t a very nice man. He wasn’t bad, at all! He just… we were both very young, and I don’t think he was ready for the kind of commitment that having a child takes.”

“He didn’t want me?” Luz asked.

“He didn’t know you, and he doesn’t matter.” Camilia responded, somewhat dismissively. “As far as I see it, you are my child, and mine alone.”

Luz nodded, slowly. “But… don’t you want a dad?”

“A husband?” Camilia took time to think over the question. “I don’t know. I’m not looking, because I’m happy with you already.”

Luz smiled at that.

“Do you want a dad?” Camilia asked.

“Not really,” Luz said. “I mean, it would be pretty cool, but I’m happy with you, too.”

Camilia pulled her into a tight squeeze of a hug, but Luz continued, “besides, you do all the stuff a dad does better than all the dads I know, so it would just be pointless.”

That draws a laugh out of Camilia that vibrates through Luz’s chest, too. “I’m glad,” she said. “Now… let’s try our soup, huh?”

Camilia stepped down, helping Luz jump off after, and Luz hurried to set two bowls and two spoons onto the table as her mom followed, pot of soup in hand. “Okay,” she said as she set it down, grabbing a ladle and serving them. “Make sure it’s not too hot to burn you, okay?”

Luz nodded, and simultaneously, they both tasted the soup. It was… actually kind of good.

“You can properly cook now!” Luz exclaimed. “Like those chefs on TV.”

“Yeah,” Camilia laughed, fishing a vegetable from her bowl. “You like it?”

“It’s my favourite!”

* * *

Just her luck – when her second mother figure enters her life, at first, she doesn’t know how to cook either.

* * *

Luz woke before the sun rose. She knew, hypothetically, that she’d slept a minimum of fourteen hours the day before – what with the passing out just after midday, to waking up for a brief midnight meal, to falling back asleep again, somehow exhausted. But she had never been an early riser – it just wasn’t really a part of her.

She stretched her hands above her head, letting them widen into an arc behind her as they came back down and enjoying the ache in her biceps and back. Her eyes felt fuzzy, most likely from the darkness that shrouded the room, and half-glued together with sleep and salt-water tears. Rubbing at one, she let her head loll to one side.

Amity lay, fast asleep, breaths delicate and even and silent, somehow ethereal in the low-light. Luz never got to see Amity like this – before she woke up, in the vulnerable ignorance of sleep. The pattern that they’d settled into had always been Amity waking up before Luz, and Luz being left to meander downstairs as the last one awake.

She’d thought that when she got a crush, the feelings would hit her like a truck – overwhelming and leaving her breathless. And they do, sometimes. But now… they wash over her like a beam of sunlight in an empty meadow; warm, and slow, and so delicately comforting. She has feelings for Amity.

And Amity has the same feelings back for Luz. Titan blood – Amity, perfect, gorgeous Amity – somehow likes Luz.

* * *

Luz knew she could’ve sat and watched Amity sleep for a long time (longer than was considered socially acceptable, and far longer than Amity would likely be comfortable with), so she headed downstairs, making sure to tiptoe and not wake up another soul.

When everything was asleep like this – the birds, the people, the house itself – it left Luz with a certain kind of untouchable peace. It may well have been the overexertion of the previous day, but she felt loose-limbed, relaxed, calm in a gentle and beautiful way. It wasn’t quite happiness – more of a neutral feeling, that left her chest light with air.

Time was also something you gained when you got up early. Considering it was still dark outside, and she didn’t think anybody else in this house, who had stayed up late to take care of her, would be up any time soon – the hours seemed to stretch ahead of her, endless and unfulfilled. What could somebody do?

She could work, she supposed – but that was boring, and even if she were going to, it would mean disturbing Amity by grabbing all her stuff to bring it downstairs. She could… cook? But that was loud, and she hadn’t yet memorised what foods were toxic to humans, and she couldn’t light the magic-stove that witches used without Eda present to avoid a possible house fire.

She could go for a walk. It was something she used to do, sometimes, at home – when she was feeling antsy, and unable to sleep, and wanted the cold air on her cheeks and the view of her own dragon’s breath in the air, and the solace of silent solitude. Except… now the thought of taking a walk (and, larger than that, the thought of the forest, and the isolation, and the cold air) made anxiety threaten to crawl up her arms and neck, towards her throat. It made an image of a mansion, and green laughter, fill her head, clouding it until it consumed her completely.

No walk, then. That was fine.

But she wanted to do something productive. Boredom, especially, was an issue that really got to Luz for some reason or the other. She didn’t like just sitting, be it in her thoughts or otherwise. She had to… channel her energy, somehow.

Turning to the kitchen, Luz spotted a small scrap of paper on the countertop, and an idea lit up inside her head.

* * *

“What are you doing up so early?” Came Eda’s voice, who knows how much time later, from behind her. The sun had come up, and Luz’s neck was aching from being hunched over a table, but she had scribbles upon scribbles of paper set up in front of her.

“Morning,” Luz said, sorting through the pages. Eda had come at a perfect time – she’d just finished.

“I don’t appreciate your non-answer,” Eda said, slipping into a seat besides her. “Seriously. What is all this?”

Finding the page she wanted, Luz thrust it at Eda, an excited grin on her face. “I was brainstorming,” she explained. “About the Blight problem.”

“You were?” Eda asked, a spark of interest tilting one of her eyebrows upwards.

“Yeah,” Luz said. “And – read over it. I think I have an idea.”

Chapter 29: confrontation at the covention

Chapter Text

Being in the middle of the crowd at a Blight private sale felt, a little strangely, like being at some sort of theatre performance. When Amity had told her that her parents sold abomination products, Luz had imagined corny infomercials on TV that popped up in ad breaks – a fleeting minute of lies and smiles, terms and conditions, and then it was gone.

This was… not that.

The room was dark, and filled with witches – some old, some tall, quite a few with beaks, some with blue skin, one with hair that looked like bubbles, so tall that there was an empty void of space behind her, and nobody could see past, to the stage that was raised several feet off the ground and illuminated by almost dazzling lights. Luz blended in – Amity had said that everybody wore hunter-green cloaks, with hoods that were enchanted to hide your face, if anybody were to look your way.

“They like selling anonymity, too,” she’d explained as they were preparing the plan. “Although they advertise themselves as a security company, some of the stuff sold at Blight Industries isn’t exactly legal to own.”

It had been several minutes, now, since Amity and Eda had left her in the crowd – as a lookout – to snoop around backstage, and catch Mr Blight out alone, if he was there. Luz, who had no magic and was just a useless human, was given a device that was essentially just a couple of buttons, and told to press it the moment the Blight show was over, and Mrs Blight looked like she was about to retreat into the wings. So… yeah. She was a lookout.

Despite it being her plan. Whatever. She understood that, of the three of them, she wasn’t the one that could cast an illusion spell and turn them all into a stack of unassuming boxes (but – neither could Amity, because Eda was the only one that had the ability to do illusion magic.) And she understood, despite her plan-making abilities, sometimes she had the tendency to go off-script (and Titan forbid, that Luz, who was both a teenager (notorious for their lack of consequence perception) and had ADHD, would come up with a new, better idea on the spot, and have the desire to follow it.) But… it was her plan. She was meant to be a part of it.

Mrs Blight’s voice boomed through some invisible speaker, creating a suffocating blanket over the crowd. Worry and fear coiled in her stomach, tightening her gut until it pressed up into her lungs, shaking there, too. It was drowned out by the roar of the crowd, in some sort of sick greeting.

Maybe they’d left her as lookout because they knew she’d be useless with fear. Maybe they knew that she didn’t want to ever turn her back on Mrs Blight again.

Her eyes were trained on the shock of green hair now, as Mrs Blight strode across the stage with practised ease. There was a huge abomination-robot hybrid following her – not unlike the one that had been in their living room, serving them tea, when Luz had her first run-in with the Blights. Except, this one was showing off its ability to slice through solid steel.

Had it been able to do that, when it had been not two feet from Luz, in the Blight’s living room?

Amity had said she used to help out at these shows – she’d get up on stage and fight the abominations they made, to show off how dangerous they were. That sent another bolt of dread down Luz’s spine (“They made you fight? But you were a kid, and it was a… death machine.”

Amity had just shrugged. “Gave me incentive to be the top of the class.”)

Gulping back any thoughts of that (they were distractions, and she needed to stay focussed), her eyes found Mr Blight, on the edge of the stage. He, although not as terrifying as Mrs Blight, was almost haunting in his silence. He was facing the stage, where his wife was performing, but his gaze seemed hollow, like his head had been carved out of every emotion possible. Amity had called him absent-minded at best – and it may have been the bias, but Luz didn’t see a man caught up in his own head. She saw…

As if sensing her gaze on him, his head turned towards the crowd, lazily skating over the sea of uniform green, not really taking anything in. Despite that, Luz found herself flinching, ducking behind a person in front of her, to avoid his gaze.

A boy came up besides Mr Blight – blonde hair, a little spiky, and the two began conversing in hushed tones off the side of the stage. Who was that?

She hoped Eda and Amity were almost done with their snooping. They’d been hoping to catch Mr Blight alone, but Luz doubted that man could even have an independent thought without his wife’s approval.

The abomination continued its attacks, with varying levels of cheers from the audience. Mrs Blight narrated, false enthusiasm pumped into her voice. The crowd seemed to hang on to her every word, to every movement of the stage. Off to the side, a chart showed the number of sales fulfilled for the machine.

The number ticked up, and up, and up. Mr Blight studied it for a moment, and said a few words to the boy, before heading off-stage.

Luz pressed the first button. This was their chance.

The boy moved into the centre of the stage, near Mrs Blight. She paused her narration for a second to introduce him – “a demonstration from one of the Emperor’s Coven’s brightest protégés” – and then he was fighting with the abomination.

The fight was… a spectacle. The boy leaped, and the abomination leaped too – both locked in a tense pursuit. He allowed himself to be manhandled at points, seemingly bored of dodging, and ended up getting a splodge of abomination ink on his cheek, covering up the long scar that was now visible under the harsh stage lights.

The number of sales ticked up still, as movements of the abomination and the boy drew gasps from the audience. Mrs Blight’s voice got louder, as if spurred on by her visible success. It formed a stone, the size of a baseball, in Luz’s stomach.

Around it, fear curled. She wished she was backstage, talking to Mr Blight instead. She wished she hadn’t been left alone. Fear coiled alongside an ugly feeling, deep and green and envious. She wanted to be backstage. She wanted to have magic. She wanted to be useful.

Mrs Blight came to centre stage, taking a bow, eliciting cheers from her audience. Besides her, the abomination bowed too, clumsy and large. By next week, thousands of people would have one of those death-trap machines, doing their bidding. The boy, unnoticed amongst the noise, slipped silently off stage.

Luz swallowed and pressed the button.

* * *

They were silent all the way home, until the door of the Owl House shut behind them. Amity was the first to break out of their stealth-mode, jumping in joy and pulling Luz into a hug.

“It went well?” Luz asked, wrapping her arms around Amity’s waist, and trying her best to share the enthusiasm.

“It went great,” Eda said. “We talked to Amity’s dad.”

“He seemed good,” Amity said as she pulled back. “I don’t know – I always thought he cared, deep down. I have hope, for him. Maybe he can be a good person – you know, without my mom sort of controlling whatever he does.”

“Me, too,” Eda said. “But seriously – you were amazing, Amity.”

Luz watched as Amity’s entire face flushed, up to the tops of her ears, and down her neck. “I was just…” she started. “I know the layout, because they used to make me help out.”

“Not just that,” Eda emphasized. “The whole time. You’re really cut out for this.”

Eda turned to her. “And you,” she said with a grin. “How was the show?”

“Creepy,” Luz said honestly. “They do that a lot?”

“They used to be annual, but Emperor Belos put them on an accelerated schedule. Now, whenever they come up with a new product, it’s being shown. They probably have a show every couple of months.”

“And it’s okay to sell those dangerous abominations to people they don’t even know?”

Amity shrugged. “It’s about business. I don’t think they care what their patrons do with the abominations.”

“Enough talk,” Eda said. “Luz – you did good, too. And the timing was just great – we couldn’t have come up with a better window.”

Luz nodded, suddenly remembering that she was still wearing the deep green cloak. It felt like it burned. She scratched at the string by her neck, pulling until it dropped to the floor behind her. Although the fabric was light and loose, it felt like an oppressive weight had just been taken off her shoulders and back.

Eda and Amity shared a look, before turning back to her. “Are you alright?” Amity asked, scanning Luz.

What was that supposed to mean? Luz looked down at herself, trying to check for any anomalies. Did she look different or something?

“I’m fine,” she said. As she looked back up, a slight stinging began on her neck – where the cloak’s string had been.

“You cut yourself,” Eda said. “Come here; let me clean it.”

A cut? “It’s okay,” Luz said. “It’s small, right? I think I’d rather just take a nap.”

She was moving before Eda even acknowledged her, taking the stairs two at a time. She needed to… she didn’t know what she needed. It felt like bugs were crawling under her skin all of a sudden. She wanted to be safe.

Entering her bedroom, Luz made a beeline for the back corner, sinking down until she was able to see the entirety of her room. The need to blink – any signs of tiredness she’d had before – evaporated, replaced by a laser-sharp focus.

Amity had gone through what that boy went through. Countless times. Luz was useless – she didn’t have any magic to protect herself, and the people she loved, with – but she could watch out, give warning.

Mrs Blight’s voice echoed in the back of her head, loud and booming. She could use her oracle magic to appear in this house, right now – Eda’s protective runes be damned. Or she could be outside the door, waiting, to scoop Luz, or Amity, away.

Shadows of light shifted slowly across the room, charting the passage of time into the evening. Her eyes remained vigilant – on the door, on the window, on dust particles that floated in front of her face. She felt as though she was sinking into the wall behind her, becoming a part of the shadows in the corner, left alone.

She watched. She waited. When there was an attack, she’d be ready.

* * *

This was officially Luz’s third Covention – they only happened once a year, so they were pretty hot stuff – and she was wasting it away, standing under the set of bleachers, waiting for the ‘special guest’ to appear. At least she wasn’t alone, this time – Eda and Amity were here, too, although at separate parts of the bleachers. She looked in one direction, and saw Amity, back ramrod straight, waiting for whoever was going to greet them. The other way, and Eda was there, fishing some old-style game console out of her hair and fiddling with the back of it whilst they waited.

Eda and Amity had told Mr Blight that they should talk again – somewhere public, so nothing bad could happen. Just their luck that the annual Covention was coming up, but a few days later.

King, the luckiest of them all, got to wander the Covention, picking up freebies and getting all the positive attention he did every year. Luz made him promise to get her something – a keepsake, for her third official Covention – before they left.

These past few days had been… strange. Luz felt a little like she was a stranger in her own body, taking in what was going on but just going through the motions. Every noise – every slam of every door, every word spoken, every creak of every floorboard, she heard (and, more often than not, she flinched violently at, earning her a weird, slightly concerned look from whoever happened to be in the room with her at the time). She didn’t know what it was – she couldn’t explain it.

Honestly, she was hoping it would end today – with the ending of the Blight problem.

Movement from her peripherals caused her to turn, eyes landing on Eda, who had slid the (still broken) game console back into her hair, and was standing more alert, eyes scanning. The front of the bleachers faced the stage, but they backed out onto an open warehouse-type space, where Covens kept items between Coventions. There was a lot less of a chance that they’d get snuck up on, if they met here (and Luz had thought it through – as far as public events, where you couldn’t drag your screaming daughter into an Oracle portal and away into house arrest, went – this was their best bet.)

“What is it?” Luz asked, quiet but still echoing through the warehouse.

“It’s just me,” said Mrs Blight. Luz flinched at her voice.

Mrs Blight approached from Eda’s side, and Luz began making her way towards her. “Alright, I showed up. What is it you want with me?”

“An agreement,” Amity said, coming to stand by Luz’s side, until the three of them were facing Mrs Blight. “To stop looking for me and terrorising my friends.”

“Terrorising?” Mrs Blight laughed. “Why, that’s a strong word. I was just paying Luz some friendly visits. We spoke over tea.”

“Not willingly,” Eda pointed out. “And it needs to stop.”

“Fine,” Mrs Blight said, waving a hand. “There’ll be no need for it, anyway, if Amity just does as she’s told.”

“She’s not coming back,” Luz asserted, crossing her arms over her chest. Mrs Blight’s cold eyes turned on her, and Luz fought the instinct to wince back, creating more distance between them.

“I beg to differ,” Mrs Blight said. “What makes you think I’ll ever stop looking?”

“We have dirt on Blight Industries,” Amity said. “Would every buyer you’ve had like to know that we fake our fights?”

Mrs Blight shrugged. “We’re backed by the Emperor’s Coven now, darling, and don’t you forget it. What’s some slander from a child going to do to my business?”

“Your business may be protected by the Emperor’s Coven, but your family isn’t,” Eda interrupted. “Slander to the Blight name – public humiliation. You’d be kicked out of every social circle you know.”

“And what does the Owl Lady know of reputation?”

Eda smirked. “Enough to know it would ruin everything for you.”

Mrs Blight scoffed, but her expression got more serious. “You think anyone will believe what comes out of your mouth?”

“It won’t be my mouth. I happen to know a very decorated author – no naming names, but he’s both reputable and reliable. If he were to even say a word about you, it would be published in every news article across the whole of the Boiling Isles.”

Mrs Blight crossed her arms over her chest. “You think you have that much dirt on me. But you think I wasn’t prepared?”

What? Luz blinked, realizing that her gaze had been fixated on Mrs Blight’s hands, ready to draw back if they conjured a spell. “You think I don’t know you spoke to Alador?”

Her eyes turned down to Amity. “Dearest,” she addressed her daughter, “that man tells me everything – and says whatever I want him to. Whatever he said to you? Lies – and ones that I’m very prepared to refute.”

Luz could only watch as a teary betrayal filled Amity’s eyes. “No,” she said, shaking her head, voice wary. “He – I thought he promised to –“

“You think he cares about you?” Mrs Blight asked, teasing and dark. “He cares about me more. He’d never betray me for your stupid, childish plot.”

“What he said isn’t all we’ve got,” Luz jumped in, as Amity turned herself away. “What about the child abuse? What about the endangerment? How can you fight sixteen years of evidence, standing right in front of you?”

Mrs Blight blinked disinterestedly, eyes landing on Luz. They were sparking with malice. “Sixteen years of what? Of me wanting the best for my own daughter – the best excluding some dirty, talentless human that’s playing dress-up in this world?”

“You leave her alone,” Eda warned, having walked over to Amity. “This is about you.”

“What, you don’t think it’s true?” A grin began to grow on Mrs Blight’s face. “Little Luz here has no place in the Boiling Isles. Stealing away my daughter, getting expelled, barely being able to conjure whatever excuse for magic she has. Tell me honestly that she fits right in with you.”

“She does,” Eda said, without hesitation. “She’s family.”

“Amity and I are family,” said Mrs Blight. “Flesh, and blood, and raw talent. People like you don’t have family.”

“No,” Amity said, turning back to her mother. “You and I aren’t family. The Owl House is my family. My friends are family. People that treat me like more than an object to sell their products and pass on their family name – they’re my family.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mrs Blight tutted. “I care for you, Amity, the same way every mother cares for her daughters.”

“If you care about her so much,” Luz practically spat, “then who’s that shiny new replacement you had on stage?”

“Who, Hunter? Yes, that kid’s good, but he’s not… family. Doesn’t have it in his blood like we do, you know?”

Amity frowned. “You need to give up. I’m not coming back.”

“Oh,” Mrs Blight’s voice dropped, suddenly serious and cold. “You will, dearest.”

Before Luz could even think of a rebuttal, Mrs Blight had summoned an Oracle portal. The familiar cracking of the portal had Luz flinching several feet backwards, barely avoiding knocking into Eda and Amity. “Ta,” Mrs Blight said, before stepping through the portal and disappearing.

Eda turned slowly, to look at Luz, who had a hand pressed to her erratically beating heart, gulping in breaths like she’d run a marathon. “Luz?” She asked. “Are you…”

“All good,” Luz said, forcing herself to straighten up. A shiver went up her spine, and her skin suddenly felt cold and clammy. “Let’s just – let’s go.”

* * *

The Owl House was… wrecked.

Their first warning was that Hooty didn’t greet them on their way back in – he seemed asleep (but he was quiet, and Hooty didn’t sleep quietly; he made those annoying Hoot-snores that somehow could be heard in every single room of the house, at all times.) The second was the trodden-down mushroom clusters, the ones that had previously acted as protective runes, in a circle around the house.

The third warning, a little nostalgically, was that it was pouring with amber-coloured rain, burning through almost to the protective layer on the roof of the house.

“What…” Eda started, opening the door and stepping inside. Luz and Amity hurried to follow, desperate to get out of the rain and the cold. “My runes are just… gone.”

Luz took off her shoes, before looking up. And that’s when she saw it – the damage.

“Holy sh*t,” Amity said, walking past her into the living room. “What happened?”

The house was a mess – cupboards had been opened with contents spewed out over tables and floors. Food, in human-world cans, had been cracked open and mixed to create a putrid sort of smell. In the living room, the sofa had a huge rip through one of the middle cushions, with white stuffing poured all over the floor.

And papers… everywhere. From the books King had been keeping for learning about demons, to Eda’s potion orders lists, to schoolwork that Luz hadn’t seen in months, that had been tucked away in folders upstairs.

Upstairs. A sudden jolt of urgency went right through her, and Luz made her way over to the stairs, not caring if she stepped on items. Somebody might have called after her, asking where she was going – but her focus was honed in, now, desperate and fearful.

The door to the bedroom she and Amity shared was already open. Broken, even – one of the hinges had been ripped clean off, so that it stood haphazardly angled to one side.

Their bedroom was broken, too – both mattresses had been massacred, with springs pulled straight through the fabric, and the blankets were ripped and muddy and burnt, in places.

Her things… the chest of drawers she kept all her items in was thrown open, two draws sitting off to the side, and one missing entirely. It didn’t matter, either way – all her stuff had been ransacked, and was missing, or mixed up, and not where she needed it to be.

“My stuff…” Amity said from behind her, and Luz turned to see Amity in the doorway, pale with shock. She froze, looking over to Amity’s side of the room.

It was completely bare. Somebody had taken every item that Amity owned.

“This is my fault,” Amity said, lips twisting downwards. “I shouldn’t have said all of that stuff-“

“No,” Luz interrupted. “This is your mom. She’s just trying to intimidate us.”

Amity’s frown deepened. “It’s working,” she admitted, a little brokenly.

Luz shook her head, walking over to Amity to clasp her hands in her own, in some strange hope that it would make Amity listen. “It isn’t. We won’t let it – I won’t let her take you back.”

Amity met her eyes, and they were teary. “How can you promise that?” She almost whispered. “This… we got off easy. She can do so much worse. And you heard her; she’s got the whole Emperor’s Coven on her side!”

“Didn’t you say before, about us being your family?” Luz pressed on. “What happened to that? Family gets happy endings, Amity. Family makes it through – it’s just how it works.”

“Family?” Amity asked timidly.

“You said it first,” Luz shrugged. “But it sounded pretty nice to me. But also – it might be kind of weird.”

“Weird?” Amity’s face scrunched in confusion. “Didn’t you think it was nice?”

“Weird because we're dating.” Luz clarified.

“Oh,” Amity said, a blush growing on her face. “Oh.”

Luz grinned teasingly, poking Amity in the side. “Getting all shy on me, Blight?”

“In your dreams,” Amity responded.

They shared a moment, just standing like that, looking into each other’s eyes. Amity’s eyes were so beautiful like this – amber, and sparkling, and full of emotion Luz could only hope to draw out.

“I’m kind of tired,” Amity admitted after what was probably too long to stare into another person’s eyes. “Not that I didn’t like – well, you know –“

“I know,” Luz said with a soft smile. “I’ll… leave you to sleep. And lend you some pyjamas, I guess.”

“Right,” said Amity, face pulling back into a frown as she let go of Luz’s hands. “I guess we’ll be sharing for a while.”

Luz shrugged. “Doesn’t sound that bad to me.”

* * *

Luz stayed with Amity until she fell asleep, before wandering back downstairs. The mess was a shock even the second time she was seeing it – but Eda had cleared away the food, and cast some sort of repairing spell on the couch.

She looked up at Luz as she walked in. “I couldn’t be bothered with the papers,” she said in ways of greeting. “We can do them tomorrow.”

“It’s been a while since it rained,” Luz said, settling into the couch and closing her eyes. The noise of the drops, consistently hitting the forcefield, made a nice accompaniment to the soft movements of the Owl House itself.

Eda shifted besides her. “Oh,” she started, “I forgot you had a funny thing about the rain. Still think it’s a bad thing?”

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Luz corrected, peeking an eye open. “I just… when it rains here, bad things happen.”

“I don’t think so,” Eda chuckled.

“What about today?” Luz asked.

No response. Luz shut her eye again, relaxing further into the cushions.

“But it isn’t always bad,” Eda said. “What about the Snaggleback?”

“What, you mean before or after I had the life scared out of me?”

“After I got the potion,” Eda said. “It was fun, right?”

Luz shrugged. “I guess. And… I’m not saying it’s bad.”

“Wow,” said Eda, nudging Luz’s side. “Changed your mind, huh? What happened?”

Luz opened her eyes, shifting herself until she was seated further upright. “Amity came in the rain,” she said, sheepish and quiet. “And… that wasn’t so bad.”

Eda hummed. “You’re right. So… the rain brings bad omens, but also brings girlfriends every now and again?”

Luz reached over to shove Eda. “Shut up,” she said.

“Just saying; if they’re offering partners, I’d like one delivered.”

“Enough!”

“How fast do you think the shipping is on getting an adult?”

“Eda… how do you even know what shipping is?”

Chapter 30: spring cleaning

Chapter Text

The next morning, the Owl House was still as much of a disaster as it had been the night before. Luz supposed that her and Amity had gotten lucky – Amity had taken her bed, and just fallen asleep within minutes, and Luz had taken the time to attempt to repair her set of drawers, and then just sort of shoved everything else to one side of the room, before taking up a blanket and joining Amity in sleep.

When she’d fallen asleep, Amity’s face had been not two feet from her own, peaceful with sleep. But, as it always seemed to be when Luz woke, she was alone.

It was strange, because Luz didn’t consider herself a particularly late sleeper. Sure, she had her moments (her bad days, if you will), but she’d always been a morning person, and valued her sleep schedule to some degree. It was just Eda and Amity that got up early, with the first chirping of chirrup-monkeys from the forest, signifying the start of a new day.

Either way – she’d woken alone, and rolled over, and been greeted with a heap of all her things, pushed to one side of the room.

After that, going downstairs was an easy decision – just looking at all her things, broken and uncared for like that, made her throat clog with a nasty lump of some dark emotion that she couldn’t – or wouldn’t – name. She’d padded down the stairs, half-anticipating seeing the usual routine, of Eda and Amity on the couch, enjoying each other’s silence and the early morning sunbeams, cutting across the floor.

Instead… Amity sat on the sofa, alone, feet curled up underneath her. The floor was covered in papers – as it had been the day before – and someone had moved them so that there was a convenient path to the kitchen.

Eda was nowhere to be seen.

Upon hearing the footsteps, Amity turned towards her, and Luz had to fight a wince at the purple bruises marring the pale skin under Amity’s eyes. “Hey,” Amity said, voice husky from sleep and disuse.

“Hi,” Luz responded. “Where’s Eda?”

“Outside,” Amity said, waving her hand vaguely towards the front door. “She wanted to start reinforcing the house’s glyphs, and mushroom circles take quite a while to regrow once destroyed… so she’ll probably be a while.”

“Okay,” Luz said, nodding. “What are we going to do, then?”

Amity looked away from Luz, eyes falling naturally to the papers all over the floor. Piled up as they were, they reminded Luz of an overgrown field back in the human world; one that had fallen into disuse after years of no visits, until the grass had grown thick and to waist-height.

The papers petered off around her ankles, but the feeling was somehow similar. “Okay,” Luz said, jumping over to the couch. “Let’s help Eda out, then. Where do we start?”

* * *

Together, the two of them had pushed all of the papers over to one wall of the room. They were piled tall, now – with Luz sat cross-legged on the living room floor, they rivalled her own height – but it was nice to see the actual floor again.

They had decided to sort the papers into four piles – meaning they had to go through each page individually. Two were pretty small – potion business, and other, probably-business-but-neither-Luz-nor-Amity-recognised-it, had stayed somewhat small and neat, in their own little corner. Rubbish – the stuff that looked unimportant, but Eda could go through herself later, was slightly larger, and mainly consisted of lists, and pages that were probably ripped out of books.

But the largest, by far, was the ‘unsalvageable’ pile. It loomed like an angry spirit in a pile by the fireplace, and consisted of… well, anything that was damaged beyond repair. All the papers with rips straight through the middle, and missing halves, or ones that had their ink run so thoroughly that not a single word could be made out – they all went into that pile.

Eda had only come in once, in the hour or so Luz and Amity had been at the paper-sorting, and she hadn’t even acknowledged them – just rifled around in the kitchen for her jar of salt, before leaving once again – to further reinforce the house’s protection. Situations like this, where Luz got to see Eda with her laser-sharp focus, were few and far-between.

(The first – or at least the most memorable – had been when she’d been trapped by Lilith at the Emperor’s Castle, and Eda had lost control of the curse trying to save her. Before that, in Luz’s eyes, Eda had always been a somewhat begrudgingly mother-like figure – it had kind of shocked her, when she had seen how serious Eda could truly be.

They didn’t call her the best witch in the Boiling Isles for nothing, she supposed.)

With the knowledge of Eda’s entire focus dead-set on protecting the Owl House and its inhabitants, and Amity by her side, Luz wasn’t exactly fearful of the Blights anymore. Don’t get her wrong – she’d still do anything to not be in the Blight living room, or anywhere in close proximity with Mrs Blight at all, if she could help it. But… it wasn’t fear, that she was feeling at that moment. What did she have to be fearful of, if this was the worst they could do?

It was anger, that she felt, she thought. Anger that it had taken practically no effort from them, and yet they’d sent Eda into enough of a panic that she was working non-stop to protect the house – and anger that it was so easy for them, to just impose and burden Luz’s life.

Anger, too, that she – with her glyphs that were cool and all, but were totally incomparable when it came to real, adaptable magic – couldn’t do anything to protect her family, or stop the torment they were facing. Anger that she’d tried – she’d had her opportunity to talk the Blight parents into leaving Amity alone – and she’d failed.

She looked over to Amity, who sorted through papers as mindlessly as she did. She looked tired; like her sleep had been fitful and troubled. And anger filled her, tenfold, because all this sh*t that Luz was feeling? Amity had to deal with that for the entirety of her life.

As if sensing eyes on her, Amity turned towards Luz, hands slowing to a halt where they’d been smoothing out a piece of paper. “You okay?” Amity asked.

Yes, Luz wanted to say – yes, don’t worry about me. But, instead what came out was, “what about you?”

Amity’s eyebrows drew together, creating a tense crease where her forehead met the bridge of her nose. “Me?” She asked. “Uh… well… I’m not sure.”

Luz nodded. “Me, too,” she said, grabbing another paper. “Kind of annoyed, kind of… I don’t even know what it is.”

Amity folded her piece of paper into an aeroplane (ha – Luz had taught her that), and let it sail across the room into the ‘unsalvageable’ pile. “Let’s not talk about it,” she said decisively. “Distract me.”

“…what?” Luz asked.

“I said I don’t want to think about how angry I am at my parents,” Amity said. She crumpled up another piece of paper and shot it like a basketball, landing it perfectly in the fireplace. “Let’s just distract each other.”

“I can’t think of a distraction on the spot like that,” Luz found her lips pulling upwards at the bizarre nature of the situation.

“Then… I’ll think of one.” Amity said, before faltering. “Umm…”

Luz looked over to Amity, seeing the emotions chart across her face. When Amity had to think hard, her face got all dopey and cute – like she’d zoned out completely. It lit a warmth in Luz’s chest, simmering softly.

After a while, Amity shrugged. “I can’t think of one, either,” she admitted. “All I can think about is my parents.”

“They suck. Don’t think about them. Think about… me.”

A fond smile played on Amity’s face as she met Luz’s gaze. “You?” She asked. “That’s kind of self-absorbed of you.”

Luz felt herself flush. “You know what I meant!” She waved off, grabbing another paper if only to have something else to look at. “It was the first thing that came to mind.”

There were a couple of beats of silence. Luz tried to look over the page properly, but the heat in her face was majorly distracting, and she couldn’t figure out whether Amity still had that soft, happy look trained on her.

She looked up (the look was still there, and it made the warmth in Luz’s chest flicker brightly), and it was like Amity took it as an invitation to continue talking.

“I have been thinking about you,” Amity admitted. “And about… us.”

“Us?” Luz’s throat was suddenly dry.

But Amity didn’t look resigned – she was smiling to herself, fiddling with a stray thread of the pyjama set she was wearing. “Yeah,” she said. “I mean – how can I not think about us? You like me.”

“You liked me first!” Luz said, and then slapped her hands across her mouth. Titans gruel – that was the most stupid thing to blurt out.

“Probably,” Amity shrugged, taking it in her stride. “But now we like each other, right?”

“Right,” Luz confirmed. “We like each other.”

Amity was slowly going pink, and it was adorable. “Yeah,” she said. “It – it just makes me happy, to think about it, you know? It’s a nice… distraction.”

“I wanna go out with you,” Luz blurted.

“Go… out?”

“Like, on a date.”

“Oh.” Amity’s eyes widened, and if possible, she went even pinker. “I’d like that. Where?”

Luz shrugged. “We could get ice-scream? Or – there are so many things we could do.”

“We could have a picnic,” Amity said. “That’s a human thing – right?”

“Yeah,” Luz nodded enthusiastically. “We’d pack a blanket, and sit in an open field, and eat and talk and stuff. Or – or we could just go on a walk through the forest.”

“That counts as a date?” Asked Amity.

“Doesn’t everything count, if we count it?” Luz responded. “Wait – did that even make sense?”

“Yeah,” Amity giggled, and Luz’s heart felt ready to burst out of her chest, “it did.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, and Luz took the opportunity to just look at Amity. She was just so pretty – sat like this, near Luz, completely relaxed and open and comfortable in her presence. In moments like these, it seemed to bite into her – the intensity of her emotions.

“What?” Amity asked, looking at Luz. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Luz shook her head. “I’m just… when this is all over, we can go on a picnic.”

A flash of vulnerability came across Amity’s face. “Promise?” She asked, voice small and somehow so like how she’d first been, way back when she’d first arrived at the Owl House – and yet so different at the same time.

“I promise,” Luz nodded. “You trust me, right?”

“I do…” Amity looked back down at her papers. “I trust you.”

“I trust you, too,” said Luz, and they exchanged smiles.

Luz went back to sorting through papers – the pile was still gigantic, and they’d reached what she thought was a comfortable stopping point. The paper she’d been holding was rolled in, at the edges – she must’ve been fiddling with it happily as they’d been talking.

“Um, Luz?”

Luz looked up. On Amity’s face, it was like all the joy had been drained away.

“What?” She asked, almost frantic, sitting up to come closer to Amity – instinct calling out to comfort her, find the problem. “What’s wrong? Was it me?”

“No, no,” Amity said, holding out a hand. Luz stopped in her tracks, and reluctantly settled back into a seated position. “I just… I trust you.”

“Yeah, you said.”

“So… I’m thinking, maybe I should tell you about the day I ran away.”

Luz paused, and the urge to reach out, to comfort, to do something came over her once again. “…Okay,” she said slowly, pushing her feelings to the side (because, spirits, it wasn’t time for her feelings right now). “If that’s what you want.”

Amity nodded, fiddling still with the thread of her pyjamas, twisting it tightly into rings around her pointer finger, before letting it unravel again. “So… um, there’s this expectation with all the ‘big witch families’, that we marry each other – keep the money together, and all that. Well – my parents aren’t exactly old money. They built their company themselves, and so they’ve had a bit of difficulty fitting into the… more established witch families.”

Luz nodded, trying her best to look understanding, softening out any creases of emotion that may have been peeking through in her face.

“So… my mom especially, was eager to get all of us married off, and sort of cement our position in those social circles. But, of course, everyone knows the twins are troublemakers – so the good marriage thing kind of fell on me.”

“But you’re so young,” Luz found herself saying.

Amity laughed wetly. “Yeah, you should tell them that. But – yeah, the day I turned sixteen, they started looking.”

“That’s… horrible,” Luz said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not even the worst part yet,” Amity said deprecatingly. “So… my parents are setting up all these meetings for me, and the twins are graduating and moving away so it’s just me and my parents – and it got more intense, when my mom can put her entire focus on just me.”

“Right,” said Luz.

Amity looked up at her, then. “One day I just… cracked,” she admitted softly. “I was supposed to be getting ready for a first meeting with a boy – and I told them I didn’t like boys.”

“And it went badly?”

Amity scoffed. “That’s an understatement. I looked at them, and it was just… shock. Disgust, a little, although both my parents are pretty good actors.”

“I’m so sorry,” Luz said, reaching out to take Amity’s hand.

Amity squeezed, tight. “At first it was just my dad – he said we could hide it, and they could pretend like they’d never heard me say anything, and we could go to this meeting and just… pretend. But my mom cancelled, and I – I thought she’d be accepting, because she’d cancelled – but – “

Luz’s heart felt like it was fracturing in her chest, as tears began slipping down Amity’s cheeks. “But she came up to me, a couple of days later,” said Amity, using her free hand to wipe at a stream of tears. “She said there was a special camp I could go to, and that they’d… treat it. Like it was some sort of disease.”

“It’s not a disease,” Luz said, squeezing Amity’s hand as tightly as she could. “Your parents were wrong – you’re amazing.”

Amity sniffed. “I know,” she said, “it’s just – I thought they still cared, you know? I thought – because Ed and Em were so bad – that if I was perfect, they’d care about me. But they didn’t even think about my feelings, they just cared about their f*cking reputation.”

Luz shook her head, searching for the right words. “I’m… that sucks.”

Amity blinked at her, before letting out a soft, watery laugh. “Only you,” she said, shaking her head and squeezing Luz’s hand tighter.

“I hate your parents,” Luz said. “Let’s never tell them we’re dating. Let’s run them over, or something.”

“Run over then?” Amity asked. “That would be difficult, and… kind of weird.”

“No, like – hit them with a car.”

“Like crash into them?” Amity paused, considering it. “Let’s crash into the Blight Manor.”

“Ooh, good one. Smash right through their front door, and, like, spray paint everywhere.”

“That sounds like fun,” Amity chuckled. “Maybe that can be our second date.”

Luz softened, giving into the urge to pull Amity’s hand up to her mouth, placing a tender kiss against her knuckles. “It can be our third date, as well. Once they’ve fixed everything.”

Amity’s eyes were caught on where Luz’s lips had met the back of her hand. “Yeah,” she said. “I’d like that.”

Luz’s eyes met Amity’s – the amber of Amity’s eyes was fiery and gold. Amity’s eyes dipped, and Luz felt the heat of her gaze on her own lips. “I’d like that, too,” she said, leaning in.

“You’d like what?” came Eda’s voice from the kitchen. Without even thinking, Luz sprang backwards, accidentally falling into the unsorted papers behind her.

Eda entered, looking around at their stacks. “Well, it’s a start,” she said, shrugging. “What were you two up to?”

“Sorting – paper –“ Luz fumbled over her words, still laser focussed on her lips and Amity’s lips and the idea that their two lips could have met, just now. “Why?”

“Why?” Eda laughed. “Kid, it’s my house. Well… thanks for getting started, I guess.”

“No problem,” Amity said quietly. It was then that Luz looked over.

Amity was as red as a ripe tomato.

“…okay,” said Eda. “Well – I’m taking a break from the protection sphere, because someone who can’t get through it is asking to see you.”

Luz looked back to Eda, but the statement hadn’t been directed at her. “Who is it?” Amity asked.

“It’s your brother.”

* * *

Luz hated this.

She was stuck sorting through papers (alone, now, which was infinitely more boring), replaying the almost-kiss in her mind, whilst also feeling sick to the stomach with worry that Amity was in trouble. Emira hadn’t turned out to be a threat – and sure, Edric had to stand on the outside of the now-much-stronger glyph circle, with Amity inside it, and Eda’s half-watchful eye as she continued to work on the barrier – but she couldn’t help the dread that settled into her bones with not being able to see Amity for herself, and check that everything was truly okay.

On the bright side, she supposed, she had King for company. But King was absorbed in his book collection, checking for ripped-out pages, and generally lamenting about the damage done to his few prized possessions.

“King,” Luz interrupted. “Do you think Amity’s okay?”

“What?” King asked. “Why don’t you go and check for yourself?”

Luz hesitated. “Because… isn’t it weird? To be spying, and stuff?”

“No,” King said. “You’re just worried. It’s totally normal.”

“…right,” Luz said, going back to sorting. “I think I’ll stay here.”

King looked up at her. “But you want to check,” he said. “Why aren’t you going? Just open the door for a second.”

“But that’ll be imposing,” Luz insisted. “They’ll know that I’m watching them.”

“So? Amity is your girlfriend. She won’t judge you.”

“We’re… we haven’t discussed being girlfriends, yet.” Luz frowned.

“But you’ve confessed,” King said. “That’s a big step for you guys, considering how long you’ve been idiots around each other.”

“We haven’t been idiots!” Luz protested. “I just… wanted to make sure she liked me back, and then that she liked me back for the right reasons.”

“…sure,” King muttered. “Either way – you’re dating.”

“Sort of,” Luz amended. “Sort of dating.”

King fixed her with a look (and, with a skull over his head and nothing to express emotions with but those beady yellow eyes, Luz considered it a skill that he could convey that much sass in a single look. “You’ve been on dates. You’re dating.”

“We haven’t been on – “

“Oh yeah? Showing her around the human world.”

“That was… she wanted to see the human world.”

“Going to the market together. Alone.”

“We were running an errand!”

“Stargazing,” King fixed her with another look.

“We – fine. Maybe those were dates. But they don’t count, because we didn’t know they were dates at the time.”

“You’re –“ King interrupted himself with a huge huff of frustration, large enough to send a few loose sheets scattering. “Fine. They don’t count. Doesn’t matter, because you should still go and check.”

“Maybe I will,” Luz huffed back, using the momentum of her frustration to carry her up and all the way to the front door. Before she’d even had a moment to think about it properly, and stop herself in her tracks, the door had been flung open.

Amity and Edric both turned to look at her. The protection circle stood between them – a translucent, pearlescent sort of purple-ish glow tinting Edric’s green hair into a dark sort of mud. On its other side, Amity stood, untarnished by the light, looking over at Luz with a puzzled expression.

“Sorry,” Luz said. “Just – you were taking a while. I wanted to check if everything was okay.”

“…we’re fine,” Amity said, offering a small and awkward smile. “Thanks for the concern.”

“Right,” Luz nodded. “Obviously you’re fine. I just… yeah. I’m gonna go now.”

At that moment, Eda emerged from her spot halfway around the house. “Luz and I are going inside,” she said, striding towards Luz. “Yell out if you need help.”

“I’ll help out, too!” Hooty offered.

“Got it,” said Amity – and then Eda was at the front door, and was pulling Luz inside and shutting the door behind them.

Eda gave Luz a look. “What was that?” She asked.

“King –“ Luz started.

“Oh, don’t blame this on me!” King, who had made his way from the living room, protested. “Luz was worried about Amity.”

“And I was watching over her,” Eda said. “Any reason, for this sudden rise in concern?

“No!” Luz said. “Can’t I be worried? We’ve all been through a lot recently.”

Eda seemed to soften at that. “I know,” she said understandingly. “But you can trust me with this. Emira wasn’t a threat, and I doubt Edric would be any different.”

“I’m just,” Luz faltered. “I don’t know what it is. It’s like I’m antsy when I’m not around her.”

“You’re concerned,” Eda reasoned. “It’s totally understandable, like you said, given all that we’ve seen in the past couple days.”

“But it’s more than that,” Luz tried to explain. “It’s – I want to be around her.”

There was a pause, and then Eda arched a singular perfect eyebrow upwards. “You do?” She asked teasingly, mouth widening into a grin.

“It’s not concern!” King cackled, drawing out his words dramatically. “It’s love!”

“Is not!” Luz hurried to correct. “King!”

“Hey,” Eda tried to interrupt, but she too was laughing. “It’s all good, Luz. King and I can be your wingmen.”

“Yeah!” King said. “We’ll set you up on dates and everything.”

“Actually, I don’t trust either of you as wingmen,” Luz said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re more like… anti-wingmen!”

“How so?” Asked Eda.

“When me and Amity were about to kiss this morning, you walked in and ruined it!” Luz exclaimed. “We were so close!”

“So that’s what you were doing,” Eda’s eyes went wide with mischief. “I had my suspicions.”

“But we didn’t do anything, because the moment was ruined,” Luz said. “And – anyway – that’s not why I’m worried about Amity.”

Once seeing Luz’s distress, Eda sobered quickly. “Alright,” she said. “Sorry about ruining ‘your moment.’ And about teasing you. Amity is fine; I’m watching Edric while I work, and if he tries anything, I’m there. If you still don’t trust me, we can make up some excuse, and you can come outside too.”

“No,” Luz said, pouting dramatically. “That’s okay. I’ll stay inside.”

“Aww, is somebody embarrassed?” Asked King.

“I’m not embarrassed, I’m just… worried for her.”

“Well… we could always invite Edric inside,” Eda offered.

Luz looked around at the house – still a mess. “Really?”

“Hey,” Eda said, “his parents did it – maybe he should be the one to clean it up.”

“No, it’s alright,” Luz said, shaking her head. “I’ll manage. Thank you, for keeping an eye out.”

“Anytime,” Eda leant over to rub at Luz’s hair, until it was a mess of static, sticking up on her head. “And if you do need official wingmen, King and I are quite the duo…”

“We were a matchmaking machine, back in the day,” King said proudly. “We had witches and wizards alike, lining up at our door for expert advice.”

“I think I’m alright, actually.”

“But Luz!” King whined. “I’ve been wanting to get back in the business.”

“No, thank you,” said Luz, making a beeline out of the room.

“Luz! Come back! Let us convince you!”

Chapter 31: my first kiss

Chapter Text

When Luz woke up, it wasn’t naturally. There was a hand on her shoulder, shaking softly, and a voice, calm but incessant, repeating her name.

She opened her eyes, blearily staring up at a blurry blob of Eda Clawthorne.

“What?” She rasped out as Eda let go of her shoulder, reaching up to rub at one of her eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Eda nodded, sitting back slightly so that Luz could pull herself up into a sitting position, shrugging sleep off of her back with several rolls of her shoulders. “I just wanted to talk to you quickly.”

“Okay,” said Luz, yawning. “What’s up?”

“I’m going out,” Eda said, “to talk to Lilith.”

Luz paused. “Lilith?”

Eda nodded, as Luz felt consciousness flood into her, sudden and alerting. “Why?” Luz asked, eyes widening. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s time we talked, and I need all the help I can get,” Eda shrugged. “She’s my sister – she wouldn’t sell me out, or anything. Besides, the bounty on my head is old news now that I’ve moved over to potion-making.”

“Eda…” Luz trailed off, trying to figure out how to put her worry into words. Lilith – the same Lilith that had barely said two words at their doorway, and had still sent Amity spiralling into a panic attack. “Have you told Amity?”

Eda nodded. “Just before I told you, actually. Amity’s okay with it. The only reason she doesn’t like Lilith is because of the connections she holds both to the Blights, and to the Emperor’s Coven.”

“And you really think you two being sisters is gonna override that?” Luz asked sceptically. “She seems… pretty serious about her career as a coven-witch.”

“I think it’s worth a try to talk to her,” said Eda. She reached up, ruffling Luz’s hair – an act which she hadn’t done in so long that it sent an ache of nostalgia straight through Luz. “I’ll be back before you know it. Find something fun to do, okay?”

“Okay,” Luz said, pouting even as Eda stood. She was already ready to leave – coat and shoes adorned, and Owlbert in one hand. “Be safe, okay? Come running here if anything goes wrong.”

“I can handle myself if something goes wrong,” said Eda, brushing a piece of lint off the front of her coat, “but it won’t. I’ll be fine – seriously. You should go back to sleep.”

“Can’t,” said Luz, shrugging. “I’m all worried, now.”

Eda turned, shooting Luz a sympathetic glance, before wrapping her up all at once in a tight hug. Luz couldn’t do much other than move her hands to awkwardly pat at Eda’s sides, arms pinned by the tight embrace. Her coat smelled of must, and old perfume, and her hair was in Luz’s face, but a bit of the tension eased out of her body.

Eda was the first to let go (not that Luz could’ve been the first, she supposed – she hadn’t been a member of the hug, more just a recipient, there for the ride.) “I’ll see you later,” said Eda, standing back up. “And hey – maybe you and I should have a little talk about your relationship with Amity when I get back.”

“It isn’t a relationship,” Luz found herself flushing, even more worry ebbing away at the familiar subject matter. “But… yeah, whatever. As long as you come home safe.”

Eda snorted. “Alright, mother. Since when were our roles reversed?”

“Since you decided to start going on unnecessary outings to see people without my permission,” Luz teased, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Right,” Eda nodded. “Well – I’m going, kid. Get some more sleep.”

“Okay,” Luz said, and then Eda was gone.

* * *

She did try to go back to sleep, but after fifteen minutes of tossing and turning and cursing the daylight that was filtering in through the window, she flung the sheets off of herself and decided to just get started with the day.

Amity was already downstairs, of course – in the kitchen, for once, cooking. “Hey,” Luz greeted, coming to stand besides her. “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast,” said Amity, bringing the label to a can close to her face, so she could squint at the ingredients list.

“You can cook?” Luz asked, surprised. She’d just assumed the Blights wouldn’t cook for themselves.

“How hard can it be?” Amity asked, putting the can down, and reaching for another. “I’ve seen a lot of people do it before – and it’s just mixing a bunch of edible things together, to make another edible thing, right?”

“Right,” Luz confirmed, because Amity was kind of right, and the pure determination on her face was pretty cute. “Then… what do you want to do after that?”

“I’ve got school,” Amity said, placing that can down, too – moving on to picking out vegetables that she thought looked good. “But Eda said I probably shouldn’t go today.”

“Why not?” Asked Luz.

“She can’t do the illusion magic on me today,” said Amity, “now that she’s gone to see Lilith. Needs all the magic she can keep, right?”

“Right,” nodded Luz. “Then we get to hang out all day.”

A shy smile overtook Amity’s face. “Sounds good,” she said. “What are we gonna do?”

* * *

Eventually, after Luz left Amity to ‘cook’ (and Amity called for Luz’s help, and they salvaged what was left of Amity’s attempts at scrambled eggs and made some simple toast to go alongside it), they ended up in the living room, sat together in front of Luz’s old DVD player. One of the things she’d been shocked by when she first came to the Boiling Isles was the lack of technology – although, she supposed, when everything could be automated by magic, who needed a computer?

Eda and Amity, of course, had both been completely enraptured the first time she’d shown them the device, dusty and old as it was. Luz hadn’t touched it since she was ten, probably – but it provided a reliable source of entertainment when she was stuck at home alone, and Eda was out with King on ‘important witch business.’

Technically, she supposed, Eda would probably going to talk to Lilith as ‘important witch business’, despite it being different to what the original meaning was. Either way, when it was just her and Amity alone, it was once again what she resorted to.

The sound coming out of the device was tinny and one-sided, and Luz had to strain to hear the familiar music of Princess Mononoke through the old speaker. Amity seemed amused, though, eyes glued to the screen and hands fidgeting softly in her lap.

Luz had seen the movie many times before, and it was easy, with the backdrop of the familiar script, to let her mind wander. There are worries, at the forefront of her mind, about Eda – Eda interacting with Lilith. Lilith that caused Amity to freak out so much that she spiralled into a panic attack. Lilith that works directly for the Emperor’s Coven, and Belos, and was probably not going to be very perceptive to their anti-all of that plan.

She found herself almost twitching with the anxiety, a cold, foreign feeling crawling up her spine. Eda had said to trust her – and Luz trusted Eda completely. But it was Lilith she was worried about. Lilith, and everything Lilith stood for, and everything she could do to Eda and Amity without Luz there to protect them.

“You good?” Amity asked, and Luz zoned back in. Twenty minutes had passed on the movie since she’d zoned out, and Amity had reached forwards to pause it momentarily. “Do you not want to watch?”

“I do!” Luz hurried to say. “I’m just… sorry. My head’s just on other things.”

“Other things?” Amity echoed back inquisitively. “Like what?”

Luz shrugged. “Whether Eda’s okay,” she said truthfully, because she was trying to be truthful about things, now. “Among other things.”

“Eda’s okay,” said Amity with a certainty that Luz envied. “Eda’s the strongest witch in the Boiling Isles.”

“You know that she probably made that up, right?” Luz asked.

“Well… I’d still believe it,” Amity responded. “If Eda was worried, she’d have taken somebody with her. They’re sisters.”

“And Edric’s your brother, but he still told your parents,” Luz supplied. Amity paused.

“Me and Ed talked that out, actually,” she said. “He said he didn’t mean to – he didn’t even know. He just… you know.”

Luz’s eyes dropped to Amity’s lap, where her hands continued to fidget, the motion constant but showing no signs of agitation. “He said he was sorry,” Amity revealed, “and I forgave him.”

“That’s good,” Luz said, nodding. “So your talk was good yesterday?”

“It was nice, yeah,” Amity said. “I was – well, you know I was worried about whether they hated me or not. So… they don’t.”

“And you forgave them both completely?”

“I don’t know yet,” Amity said. “I don’t know if there’s even anything to forgive.”

Luz shrugged. “It’s okay to have mixed feelings about your family,” she said. “I do, too.”

Amity nodded, looking up at Luz. “When did this turn into a conversation about me?” She asked, tilting her head gently to the side. “We were talking about you.”

“And now we’re talking about you,” said Luz.

Amity’s lips twitched upwards at the edges. “Nice try. What else is bothering you?”

Luz frowned slightly. Her first instinct was to deny that anything was wrong, but Amity’s face was open and welcoming, expecting almost. “I’m kind of scared of your mom,” she admitted.

At that, Amity snorted.

“What?” Luz’s voice pitched upwards as she got semi-jokingly defensive.

“I mean, I’d kind of be worried if you weren’t. She’s… kind of creepy.”

“It’s the oracle magic,” Luz nodded. “The speaking through an amulet, and portals, and future-predicting thing… weird.”

Amity’s face sobered quickly. “How does it feel when you see her?” She asked.

“It’s not really when I see her,” Luz began, “although it’s that, too – it’s more that I’m just… I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do,” Amity prompted.

Luz exhaled swiftly. “You know how she can, like… teleport you places?”

Amity nodded.

“And how she got people past the Owl House’s protections?”

Amity nodded again.

“I’m just scared that one day, she’ll just… take you back by force, and you’ll be trapped in the Blight Manor, and there’ll be nothing we can do.”

“…oh,” Amity said. “I hadn’t even thought about that.”

“You shouldn’t be worried about it!” Luz rushed to say, arms coming up defensively. “Eda’s reinforced the runes on the windows, and the mushroom circle is growing pretty well, and Hooty would probably just eat any intruders anyway.”

Amity shrugged. “I don’t think she’d do it, though,” she said.

“No?” Luz’s rush to reassure Amity slowed to a confused halt.

“I mean – she cares about reputation too much, right?” Amity started. “You aren’t making a ruckus about it, but the moment I disappear, she’s probably thinking, ‘an outcast witch and a human? They’ll make a lot of public noise.’ And she’s got Blight Industries to worry about, and the approval of the Emperor’s Coven, and… well, two other kids.”

“I’d definitely make a lot of noise for you,” Luz said, off-handed. Amusingly, it causes Amity to blush.

“You get what I mean, though, right?” She asked. “She wants me to come back willingly.”

“She sucks,” Luz said. “And we shouldn’t care about her.”

Amity blew out a long, heavy breath. “I know. But she’s still my mom. And… you know, she probably still cares about me – in her own, weird way.”

A silence fell between them, not uncomfortably. “It’s complicated, huh,” Luz said.

“Yeah,” responded Amity. “We should just… keep watching.”

They both turned to the DVD player, which had helpfully remained on a shot of the beautiful background art. Amity leaned forwards slightly, pressing play, before leaning back again and pressing her shoulder into Luz’s own.

Witches ran a little colder than humans did – so Amity’s presence by her side, physically, didn’t offer much heat. Despite this, Luz still felt like her arm was suddenly uncomfortably warm.

Amity, as if sensing her thoughts, turned to Luz. Their faces were close, now – Luz barely had space to breathe without inhaling Amity’s air.

“Hi,” she said, and then chastised herself mentally for how dorky that probably came off.

It made Amity smile, though, the joy reaching up to form crinkles at the edges of her eyes. “Hey,” she said. “Not watching the movie?”

“I am watching,” Luz said. “I’m just watching you, too.”

Amity’s cheeks tinted pink, and Luz felt herself smiling softly. “Can I hold your hand?” She asked, bolstered by sudden confidence. She found she enjoyed seeing the reaction of Amity’s affection for her in physical ways – seeing her blush, or scuff her feet, or soften at the sight of Luz.

“Okay,” Amity said, almost a whisper, twining their hands together so that each finger was interlinked.

Luz looked down at the contact, as the movie played on. Amity’s hand was pale against her own, and a little dry – like all witches’ skin, apparently – but their hands, fundamentally, looked pretty good together.

“Your hands are so warm,” Amity whispered to Luz.

“Why are you whispering?” Luz whispered back.

“Dunno,” Amity said sweetly, before returning to watching the movie. Luz looked back to their hands, reaching her other towards the point of contact to play gently with Amity’s slender fingers.

“Were we about to kiss yesterday?” Asked Luz, looking back up at Amity. Amity’s head turned swiftly to look back at Luz, brows furrowing together.

Luz got to watch as Amity sifted through her memories until she recalled the exact moment Luz was mentioning. “Eda walked in,” she said, sheepish at the reminder.

“But would you have kissed me?” Asked Luz.

“Would you have kissed me?” Amity responded.

Luz nodded, gently. “Oh,” said Amity, eyes searching Luz’s own, as if she could be shocked at the revelation, when Luz felt so strongly for her. To Luz, feelings for Amity were like an ocean – deep, and endless, and beautiful and scary.

She caught the moment Amity’s eyes dropped to her lips. Luz’s own gaze followed suit – dipping to the soft pink of Amity’s mouth, slightly chapped, but pretty all the same. They were breathing the same air now, all stilted breaths and nerves and heat.

“Would you kiss me now?” Amity’s voice was a breathless whisper. Instead of an answer, Luz leant in.

Amity kissed in a way that was gentle, and careful. Luz felt like a paralysis had overtaken her body, leaving it tingling and numb, all her focus centred on the heat of Amity’s lips. It was barely a kiss – a press of their lips, a slight, tentative tilt of Amity’s head as they started moving against each other, as if it was second nature.

Luz wanted to giggle at the strangeness of it all. Amity – Amity – was kissing her, soft and slow, and Luz was kissing her back. Amity kissed the same way she talked, like she was evaluating everything before she made a move. But Luz wanted to kiss Amity in a way that would show her how Luz felt, strong and overwhelming as it was.

Amity’s hand came up to softly cup Luz’s jaw, tilting her just the way she wanted, and a faint thought at the back of her head began to wander whether Amity had kissed other people before. But that thought slipped out of her head like sand as their kiss deepened, still soft and yet suddenly so much more.

The thumb at her cheek was caressing softly, and Luz’s brain was mush and fog and consciousness, all at once. She reached a hand out, with the intent of placing it on Amity’s hip, or her side – something to draw their bodies closer. It hit the DVD player on their laps.

They sprung apart as they watched it fall onto the floor. And for a moment there was nothing but silence between them, silence and heat, and memory of what had just transpired.

And then Luz was giggling. And Amity was giggling too, and they were sharing a moment as the DVD player continued piping its tinny sound, even from the floor by their feet. “Wow,” Luz said, breathless.

“You’re a good kisser,” Amity commented.

“Am I?” Luz asked. “Maybe you should test that thesis again.”

For a moment, Amity looked puzzled, before a pretty-pink blush found its way across her face. “I can’t believe you,” she said, moving to shove Luz softly before covering her face with her hands. “You’re so cheesy.”

“You like it,” Luz teased, nudging Amity back with her own shoulder.

“Maybe I should just kiss you to shut you up,” Amity said, still blushing (which somehow didn’t negate the line’s effect.)

Luz’s eyes widened, and she found her mouth dropping open at the boldness of it all. Amity’s blush deepened, but she wore a victorious grin. “Or I could just do that,” she said.

“Both would be good,” Luz found herself saying dumbly.

Amity shook her head fondly. “You’re so stupid,” she said, leaning in again.

* * *

After a while longer of kissing (not quite enough to lose track of time, but Luz was sure her kissing skills had at least improved a bit, and the movie had continued playing right up until the final crescendo of music on the credits), they went back to doing their own, separate things. Luz found that she could probably kiss Amity all day, if she just had the time to – and every time they caught each other’s gazes across a room, it was all blushes and sheepish smiles (and would be for a while, she predicted.)

Camilia showed up mid-afternoon, a basket (remarkably like one that you would take on a picnic) full of ingredients at her side. At some point in the mess, Luz’s human-world visits had gotten messed up. Not by any intention of her own, of course – it was just, if Luz left, then Amity would leave too, and neither of them wanted Eda alone just in case the Blights paid them a visit, but also Amity wouldn’t be willing to stay in a house alone with Eda for two solid days… not yet, at least.

So – their compromise was that Camilia would be the one doing the visiting. The pros of this, were that their visiting time was no longer limited to once a week, on the weekend – and that Luz didn’t have to miss out on one family to reunite with another.

The major con, however, was that Camilia was terrified of the Boiling Isles. So much so that she refused to take a single step outside of the house.

(However, as far as precautions taken by fear went, this one was surprisingly convenient for the way everything was currently going.)

Eda had returned about an hour after Camilia’s arrival, dropping her bag in the kitchen (and not even sparing a glance at Luz and Camilia, preparing ingredients side-by-side, like olden times, even though Luz had scrutinised Eda as much as physically possible to check for injuries) and heading back outside. It was Amity who, after observing Eda through the front window, informed the two of them that Eda was checking on the runes to see if any slow-working weakening spells had been placed since she’d been gone.

Luz couldn’t quite tell how much her mom knew about what was going on – she knew Amity’s parents were bad, and she spoke to Eda about Titan-knows what. But that explanation seemed to satisfy her, and she simply went back to cooking.

They all finally joined together for dinner in the early evening, with Eda sat at the head of the table, King sat opposite, Luz and her mom sharing one side of the dining table, and Amity directly across from her.

“So,” her mom began once everyone had served themselves, “how has everybody’s day been?”

An innocent question, of course – however, as soon as Luz met Amity’s eyes over the table, she knew they were both done for. She couldn’t even keep a straight face, smiling like a goof even as her cheeks heated.

“Good,” Amity half-squeaked, before taking a large bite of the food to avoid talking. Camilia nodded, satisfied, before turning to King – who had apparently gone to some kind of travelling show that was in town for the week.

Luz’s eyes met Amity’s across the table as King continued to recount his story, and they shared a secretive smile.

“Luz?” Her mom’s voice pulled her out, and she turned to see questioning warmth in her eyes. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” she said honestly, unable to hold back a smile from climbing up her face. “What I wanna know is how Eda’s day was.”

Every head at the table turned to Eda, who was quietly eating. Eda had the sort of presence that people noticed when she walked into the room. It was weird to see her like this, not contributing to the conversation.

“I went to see Lilith,” she informed Camilia, mostly. “My sister.”

“You two aren’t on good terms?”

“We’re okay,” Eda shrugged. “Not super close, but she doesn’t hate my guts, or anything.”

“What happened?” Asked Luz. “How did it go?”

“It went well,” Eda said, before taking another bite, as if what she’d just said hadn’t just released a pile of tension from Luz’s shoulders. “We talked, and I pitched her our ideas – she said she’d be up for it.”

“Why?” Amity asked. “She was just one of Emperor Belos’ lackeys before this. What changed?”

“I’m not sure,” Eda said. “She’s not really a big talker, you know, about her feelings. But she’s on our side.”

“And that’s good, right?” Luz asked, looking between Eda and Amity.

“Yeah,” for the first time, Eda grinned. “It is.”

Chapter 32: rainy season

Chapter Text

“I’m getting flashbacks,” was the first thing Willow whispered to her as they entered the Owl House living room. People were scattered around it, in mismatched groups of people she’d never expected to see interacting.

It was Luz’s idea (as it always was, with these big, socialising-centred plans) to get everybody into the same room again. The original Amity protection squad – Eda had let Luz invite them, of course, because they’d been an important part, all that time ago – but she’d also pulled her aside and reminded Luz, fondness in her voice, that “they’re kids, kid. I’m not pulling them into this mess.”

“But they deserve to know what’s going to happen, at least,” Luz replied. “Plus… they’re my friends.”

“And you want a playdate after the adults are finished talking?” Eda leant over to ruffle Luz’s hair, grinning. “Alright, invite them. What harm could it do?”

Also in the room: Ed, chatting under his breath with Amity, and Lilith, regal and out of place, talking to… Boscha?

“Me too,” Luz leant back into Willow to whisper. “It’s like it’s four months ago, all over again.”

Gus lead the way as the three of them walked over to the fireplace, standing idly. “It’s weird,” he commented, looking around. “It’s… like school.”

Unprompted, Luz snorted. After the initial sting of near-expulsion had been brushed off (stay hopeful, her brain (and her mother) reminded her constantly), she’d taken to joking sardonically about her own situation. “Closest I’ll be getting to it for a while,” she said.

The joke fell flat, and Willow and Gus turned their mirrored looks onto her. “You got suspended,” Willow whisper-hissed, although they were in a moderately noise-filled room, and nobody would overhear them. “The whole school is talking about it, and we never talked about it.”

“Was,” amended Gus. “It kind of blew over after Glandulus High’s Grudgby team covered our pitch in slime.”

“So… everybody’s not talking about it anymore?” Luz asked, hopefulness seeping into her tone. She knew what it was like being the centre of attention – hell, she’d entered Hexside as a human, after all.

“Well, some still are,” Gus shrugged. “But they’re totally on your side. Professor Tuskbrook is an ass.”

“Gus!” Luz exclaimed. “Who taught you that word?”

“You did,” Gus responded.

“Oh,” said Luz, “right. Awesome.”

She reached out for a high five, which he granted her with perfect ease.

“Tuskbrook is a total meanie, though,” Willow continued, seemingly content to ignore her friends’ antics. “Some people are actually really glad about what you did.”

“Yeah, well,” Luz shrugged, looking off to the side. Her eyes, as if on instinct, sought out Amity, across the room, still talking to her brother. “Still suspended, I guess.”

“It’s pretty cool, actually,” Willow said. “I’m friends with a rulebreaker.”

“A rulebreaker, and a human,” Gus continued. “Best combination ever.”

“Thanks, guys,” said Luz, turning back to them. “How have things been without me?”

Willow immediately spilled into a tangent about how tough her latest Plant exam was, and how her teacher was being unfairly rude, and Luz tried her best not to zone out. She nodded along attentively, but her eyes darted away with a mind of their own.

Her gaze, once again, landed on Amity. Except this time, Amity was looking back.

“…and then she told me I was lucky I even got the mark, when the rulebook says – Luz?”

Luz snapped her head back, smiling. “Yeah, the mark,” she said, “totally. So annoying of her.”

“…right,” Willow said, a teasing hint lacing into her voice. “Somebody’s distracted.”

“Who, me?” asked Luz. “No way. I’m – it’s just –“

She looked to Amity again – without even meaning to. “Yeah,” she admitted with a sigh. “I am.”

“By what?” Gus asked.

Luz nodded her head in Amity’s direction, and then had the pleasure of watching twin realisations dawn across both Willow and Gus’s faces.

“You two…” Gus started.

“Sort of,” Luz jumped in, before her friends could come to any conclusions. “She likes me back, and… yeah. We kissed.”

“No way.” Willow looked ready to squeal, but Luz sent her a cursory glance. They were still in a room full of other people, after all. “How did it happen?”

Luz shrugged. “We were talking,” she began, “and then… she was all like, ‘would you have kissed me’, and I was like ‘would you have kissed me?’ and then she was like, ‘would you kiss me’ as in right this second kiss me, and I just kind of leant in, and…”

That time, Willow did squeal, reaching forwards to wrap Luz up in a hug. “Congratulations!” She said, a grin overtaking her face as she pulled back.

Luz looked over to Gus, who was still wearing an awestruck expression. “Damn,” he finally said. “At least one of us has game.”

“Are you two going on dates, then?” Willow asked, before Luz could flush even heavier and swat at Gus.

“Sort of,” Luz said. “That’s the complicated bit – with the Blights, and Amity’s going to school, it’s all sort of difficult to plan time outside of the Owl House. We did talk about maybe having a picnic, though.”

“Picnics are so romantic,” Gus gushed. “But… you two really haven’t been on dates?”

“Not any that I count as dates,” Luz amended, “although we probably have. We’ve hung out in date-like scenarios, but this’ll be the first proper one.”

Willow reached over and hugged her again, and Luz found herself laughing, caught up in the shared joy of the moment. “I’m so happy for you guys,” Willow said into Luz’s shoulder.

There was a clearing of somebody’s throat, and Willow detached herself from Luz as the whole room quietened. Eda, standing vaguely in the middle of the room, smiled at everybody as they looked back at her. “Hi,” she said, smile easy-going. “I’m glad everybody gets along, but I think it’s about time we had a serious discussion.”

Luz snuck a glance at Amity, behind Eda, to find the girl already watching her. They shared a small smile, before Amity’s face focussed in, losing its traces of humour.

It was like the tone of the entire room had shifted, all at once – the room had dropped perceptibly in temperature, all homed in on one, singular objective. Luz found herself shifting on her feet, hands squeezing at regular intervals, attempting to match her own seriousness to the sharp tilt of everybody else.

“You’re all here,” Eda started, “because we need your help.”

* * *

When everybody finally left, discussions dissipated into darkened evening air, traceless save for the imprints in mind only, the night sky had already appeared. For the majority of the conversation, Luz had been present, until her feet had begun to ache from standing so long, and she’d ached to excuse herself for a moment, to take a breath in a room that wasn’t so filled with visible tension – yet couldn’t in fear of missing anything.

It wasn’t until near the end, when the sun was close to setting, and she’d had to fight to filter each word being said, lest it be lost to mindless static that was beginning to appear behind her eyes, that Eda had asked, politely but firmly, if Luz could lead her and the other ‘kids’ out into the kitchen, for the adults to have a more private talk.

That, of course, brought her right back into the conversation.

She’d protested, of course, but Eda was nothing if not determined, and she was damned good at getting her way – so, soon, Luz was leading a group that was remarkably similar to the original group her and Amity had compiled, to help Amity out at school, into the kitchen to sit at their dining table.

“Now I’m really getting flashbacks,” Willow had said to her as they all began taking seats.

They’d sat there for maybe an hour, making mindless, light conversation, and attempting to eavesdrop through the obvious silencing spell somebody had cast on the room. It had begun raining at some point, the little droplets glowing deciduously, before they hit the ground with a silent hiss, causing the green grass to darken into a chestnut brown.

“I’m not really a big fan of the rain,” Luz had said to Amity, who was sitting besides her, playing with one of Luz’s hands and trying to rid her mind of every vestige of the conversation previous. “It just… brings bad things.”

Amity hadn’t stopped fiddling with Luz’s hand, but her eyes had been drawn up, meeting Luz’s own. “It’s rainy season,” she’d remarked, almost contravening.

But after the adults had finished their conversation, Eda had opened the door to the kitchen, and paused, seemingly shocked at the group of teenagers sat at her dining table. “I thought some of you would’ve left by now,” she said, taking it into her stride as she walked over to the countertop.

“We wanted to stay,” Willow said, sitting up straighter. “What did you talk about?”

“None of your concern,” Eda said as she pulled out one of the recipe cards Camilia had left at the Owl House the night before, laminated to preserve the worn paper sheet. “Are any of you staying for dinner?”

Most people had begun heading off, then – Luz watched from the dining table as they filtered out of the front door, one by one, casting their forcefield-umbrellas as they left the relative safety of the awning, and making their way. It was Lilith that stayed, walking into the kitchen as if she owned it, despite not having stepped foot in the house for Titan-knows how long (maybe even ever, Luz found herself speculating. Maybe this was the first time Lilith had ever stepped foot inside the Owl House, as a friend.)

With her presence, Amity stiffened besides Luz, and her casual touch became all at once a vice-like grip, drawing stability from Luz’s own body in waves. Lilith barely seemed to acknowledge Amity in the first place, instead wandering over to stand besides Eda, watching what she was doing and chastising every second instruction.

“She’s on our side,” Luz whispered to Amity, squeezing her hand back. “And I’m here, if she isn’t.”

“I know,” Amity said, voice a little breathless, reminiscent of panic. “Distract me.”

“I told Willow and Gus about our kiss,” Luz whispered, turning her attention fully on Amity, who was still fixated on Lilith. “They were excited.”

“Willow knew I had a crush on you,” Amity said, tension at her shoulders dissipating slightly, despite not taking her eyes off of Lilith. “I told her, the last time she was over.”

“She’s known about my crush on you for ages,” Luz responded. “It’s rude that she didn’t tell us both.”

Amity let out a short huff of amusem*nt, grip going slightly lax on Luz’s own hand. “I asked her to stay quiet,” Amity said, “because I didn’t know how you felt about me.”

“Now you do,” Luz said, softly.

“I do,” Amity said, finally turning to Luz. “And I know how you feel about me.”

Looking at Amity like this – undoubtedly, she was emotionally exhausted, and yet it only let a fondness that she usually kept hidden, shine through – it sent a jolt of a certain feeling that Luz hadn’t thought in a while (but a feeling that was still prevalent, if her similar fondness for Amity was anything to go by) through her.

“We should go on a date,” Luz blurted. “We were talking about a picnic.”

Amity took a moment to respond, probably thrown by Luz’s sudden topic change. “A picnic?” She asked. “It’s raining.”

“Not now,” said Luz, “but later, maybe? When all of this is over?”

“I like picnics,” Amity said. “It’s sitting in the grass and eating outside, right?”

“Yeah,” Luz said, letting the warmth in her chest extend up into her face, pushing her mouth into a helpless smile. “You have a basket that you fill with food – usually sandwiches, but we can do anything, as long as we cast a preservative spell over it – and a picnic blanket. And you lay out the blanket, and talk whilst you eat, and look at the nature around you. Sometimes for hours.”

“It sounds really nice,” Amity said, leaning into Luz to place her head on her shoulder. “Let’s do it, when this is all over.”

“Are you two falling asleep?” Eda asked, giving a pointed look at Luz and Amity’s interlinked hands. “At least get some food in you before you pass out sitting up.”

“We’re not asleep,” Luz said, shifting so she was upright, but careful not to shift Amity’s head, or make her uncomfortable. “Food’s already ready?”

“Just sandwiches,” Eda shrugged, bringing two plates to the table. “I would’ve done more, but we’re all out of… a-sparr-gus?”

“Asparagus,” Luz amended. “Good. I never really liked it anyway.”

Amity shifted until she was sitting upright, and Luz immediately missed the weight of her against her side. “I like sandwiches,” she said, not making a move to cross the table and sit at her usual seat, despite Lilith placing a plate there. “I find them fascinating.”

“They’re just bread and filling,” Luz said, picking hers up. “You’ve never had a sandwich?”

“I had a professional chef,” Amity admitted. “I knew they existed, but… and human sandwiches are different, anyway. Our sandwiches can eat you if you don’t make them right.”

Luz’s eyes widened, and she looked over to Eda, who nodded solemnly in agreement. “I’ve seen it happen,” she said, taking a large bite. “People have lost all sorts of body parts to them.”

“They’re lying to you,” Lilith said, taking a dainty bite out of her own sandwich. “Sandwiches are common here, too.”

“I knew that,” Luz frowned. Besides her, Amity exchanged a mischievous smile with Eda. “I’ve seen sandwiches here before.”

“Yeah, yeah, bluff all you want,” Eda reached over to poke Luz in the shoulder teasingly, a large grin at home on her face. “You totally thought sandwiches were just a human thing.”

“You know,” Luz started, placing her sandwich down, “I’ve been here for two years. At some point, you need to stop making jokes at my expense.”

“At some point, you need to stop falling for them,” Eda chuckled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a portion up to King.”

“I’ll do it,” Amity said, reaching for the plate. Eda paused in her actions for a moment, assessing Amity, before she let the grin spread back over her face, giving Amity the plate.

“He’ll probably be in my room, sitting by the window. Make sure he starts eating, alright?”

Amity nodded, taking the plate from Eda, and heading off. Luz watched her go.

“Edalyn,” Lilith said, the moment Amity left the room. “There’s something else we should discuss.”

“Go ahead,” said Eda, mouth full of food. Lilith frowned disapprovingly, but didn’t comment.

“The boy,” she began, “that you saw at the Blight Industries show. His name is Hunter, but you likely knew him as the Golden Guard.”

The name bore no resemblance to Luz, but she was a front-row witness to Eda’s expression as it dropped into uncanny seriousness, all at once. “One of Belos’ lackeys?” She asked, swallowing her food and not making a move to take another bite. “What’s he doing at a Blight show?”

“He’s… on loan,” Lilith said, “to put it nicely. It’s too complicated to explain, but the gist is that he’s fallen slightly out of the Emperor’s favour.”

“And…?” Eda prompted. “How is that good for us?”

“It’s nothing to do with your plan,” Lilith said. “It’s just that the Golden Guard is a child, too – perhaps he would also benefit from emancipation from the Blights.”

A sly grin grew on Eda’s face. “Lily,” she started, tilting her head to one side, “are you asking me for a favour?”

“No!” Lilith disputed immediately, tutting. “I’m just calling to your moral values. You’re already helping one child – what harm is there in helping the other?”

“I think we should,” said Luz, piping up for the first time in the conversation. Two heads turned to her, as if shocked that she was there, and able to participate. “But… maybe he shouldn’t live here. He kind of gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Yes, he… unsettles me also,” Lilith said, turning back to Eda, “but I’d be willing to take him in, if only you took the first steps in getting him out.”

“Aww, Lily,” Eda was saying before Lilith even finished, “you do have a heart!”

“Oh, stop it Edalyn,” Lilith frowned. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked you, because you’d be so overbearing about it.”

“No,” Eda said, “I’ll do it. It’s just nice to know you care.”

“Yes,” Lilith said. “Well… great.”

“Great,” Eda responded, grinning as she began to eat again.

At that moment, Amity walked in, plate missing. She surveyed the room – Luz, wide-eyed and glancing between the two sisters, Eda with the biggest, most sh*t-eating smile, and Lilith, silently simmering as she picked her sandwich apart in a way that was far too dignified.

“What did I miss?” She asked.

Chapter 33: the forest at night

Chapter Text

“Alright, let’s do this. Hands up.”

Luz obeyed, bringing her hands in front of her face, to mimic Eda’s stance. “Good,” said Eda. “A little further from your face.”

“Right,” said Luz, pushing her hands out until her arms were fully extended. “Then?”

“Pull your hands slowly into your chest,” Eda demonstrated as she spoke, “and form a triangle with your palms, over the pendant.”

As Luz copied, the Oracle necklace resting on her chest began to glow a soft pink. “Woah,” she couldn’t help but mumble, focus slipping to the piece of jewelry resting on her chest – a soft warmth emitting from it.

“Right?” Said Eda. “It doesn’t even require any magic – just activates the necklace, to let us know you want to speak.”

“It’s pretty cool,” said Luz, sticking her chest out and moving her hands, to see the jewel better. The sky was clouded over, an almost-whitish grey, and dimmed the necklace’s brightness, slightly. Luz cupped her hands over the top of it, in an attempt to better see its glow.

But as soon as she moved, the glow dissipated, leaving the stone its original deep-rose colour.

“What happened?” Luz asked, looking up again – first to Amity and King, sat to the side of their impromptu lesson, watching wordlessly – and then to Eda. “Why’d it stop?”

“That movement is like calling a phone,” explained Eda, gesturing at herself. “And dropping your hands before we’ve picked it up, is like hanging up.”

“Right,” said Luz sheepishly, “that makes sense. No hanging up on you.”

Eda held her stern, teacher-like look for another moment, before her face broke out into a fond grin. “Nice work, kiddo,” she said, reaching over to give Luz a pat on the head. “It always surprises me how fast you pick things up.”

“I’m a natural,” Luz said, shrugging. “What can I say?”

“You can be a bit more modest,” King suggested from his seat leaning against the Owl House wall.

Luz stuck her tongue out at him, before returning her focus to Eda. “What about when you pick up?”

“Try again,” Eda instructed, and Luz repeated the actions – stretching her arms out, before bringing her hands closer to her chest, in the shape of a triangle. “Then I’d pick up,” she said, grabbing her own matching necklace, “and I can talk to you.”

‘And I can talk to you’, echoed in Luz’s ears, despite Eda not opening her mouth again.

“Woah,” said Luz. “And you can still talk as long as I’ve got it open?”

“Usually, once a bond is connected, I’d be able to talk to you even after you drop your hands,” Eda explained. “But since there’s no glyph for this, no magic is keeping the bond open on your side – we need the physical action.”

“Makes sense,” said Luz, dropping her hands. “Again?”

They’d been at this for a while – the magic-training thing. This morning, when Luz had woken up before Amity (and spent twenty minutes fretting over whether to kiss her cheek good morning, or was that too creepy? She wasn’t even awake yet, for Titan’s sake – and if the kiss woke her, spirits above and demons below, that would be embarrassing –) and headed downstairs, it had begun with glyphs.

“Show me what you got,” Eda had said, standing with Owlbert in one hand, the other on her hip. “I haven’t seen you use your glyphs properly in ages.”

“I didn’t need to for a while,” said Luz, trying to ignore the heavy implication in her throat, that whispered, you need them now.

After a while of just the two of them, King had wandered out, sitting himself contentedly against the back-wall of the Owl House, and watching as their practice turned from defensive glyphs, to attack. And then, just as Eda had pulled out the two rose-coloured Oracle necklaces, Amity had stepped out, too.

“I have a necklace just like that,” Amity said, bringing her hands up to her own, purple-ish orb. It was cracked in several places, and jagged – as if it had been smashed, and glued back together. “It doesn’t work anymore… but now we match.”

“Yeah,” Luz said, a hand reaching up to grab the jewel of her own necklace, and quell her pounding heart beneath it. “I guess we do.”

“Don’t go getting distracted,” Eda said, pulling her attention back. Luz felt her face heat as she met Eda’s curious, and slightly sly, look. “Now – let’s try making contact.”

And then they’d continued practicing; first the explanation of the magic, then making contact, and then making contact subtly. King had offered his comments every now and again, and Amity had seemed overall content to sit in silence and observe, until it was time for her to leave for school, and she’d disappeared back inside.

“You want to wave her off?” Eda offered, as Luz watched Amity disappear into the house.

“I thought we were practicing,” Luz said.

“Well, yeah,” Eda came up besides her, “but who am I to get in the way of young love?”

At that, Luz had half-heartedly shoved her, before heading through the house to wave Amity goodbye at the front door.

“You know,” started Eda as Luz finished waving, “I think you and I need to have a talk.”

Luz blanched. That, unfortunately, was a phrase she was far too used to hearing. Teachers had said it to her all the time – in the human world, that was – and the way that her mom said it always took on a tone of disapproval that didn’t quite bleed into Eda’s voice the same way it did Camilia’s, but still overshadowed the phrase, its presence a looming memory, all the same.

“Talk about what?” She asked, feigning nonchalance.

“You,” Eda said, “and Amity.”

Immediately, Luz felt like groaning. Of course that’s what Eda had wanted to talk about – she’d made a promise, a couple of days ago, now, that she’d update Eda about what was going on with her and Amity. And since then… so much more had progressed between them.

“Oh,” she said instead, like she wasn’t surprised – because really, she shouldn’t have been. “Okay. Out here?”

“Anywhere you want,” Eda grinned. “Just spill your beans.”

“…Who taught you that one?” Luz asked as she made her way to kitchen, deciding she wanted to be seated to have this conversation.

“Camilia,” Eda answered, following Luz in. “When she was over the other day – she slid it into conversation, and I thought it was funny. Did I use it right?”

“Pretty much,” Luz said as they made their way to sit down. “Nobody will know whether it’s right or wrong, anyway.”

“You’ll know,” Eda said like it was as simple as that. Instead of searching for a response, Luz hust shrugged half-heartedly.

“Anyway,” Eda continued, “right now, we have more interesting things to be discussing.”

“Like a teenager’s love life,” Luz deadpanned. “How interesting.”

Eda leant over from her stool to poke Luz in the rubs. “You should watch your tongue. I’m allowed to care about my own kid’s first romantic endeavour.”

“How do you know it’s my first?” Luz asked as she pushed Eda away, shifting on her seat. “Maybe I’m a serial romantic.”

“Of course,” Eda nodded suspiciously. “And how have you been hiding all of your mystery romantic encounters from me?”

“I’ve been sneaking out.”

“Wow,” Eda narrowed her eyes teasingly, “under my roof?”

“Not under your roof, technically,” said Luz, but she was beginning to lose steam. “You know… because I was sneaking out.”

“And now… Amity.”

“Amity,” Luz repeated. “Yup.”

“Tell me about that,” Eda prompted. “What have I missed?”

“Well… we’re dating,” Luz said. “Officially.”

“Congratulations,” Eda said, face stretching in a genuine grin. “First girlfriend?”

“First girlfriend,” Luz confirmed. “And… you know, we kissed, and stuff.”

“Wow,” said Eda. “You’ve been getting busy behind my back?”

“No!” Luz rushed to say, shoving Eda hard enough that she toppled slightly on her stool. “We just… yeah. It happened.”

“Did you kiss her?”

“Yeah.”

“Proud of you, kid,” Eda said. “You know – a month ago, I never would’ve expected you to make the first move, considering how stuck in your own head you were.”

“Thanks? I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment.”

“It was a compliment,” said Eda, reaching over to ruffle Luz’s hair. “You’re doing well. Have you been on a date yet?”

“Not yet… but we’re planning on a picnic, once the thing with her parents is done.”

“How cute,” teased Eda.

“What, you don’t think it’s a good idea?” Luz found herself asking, flushing with the thought of it being a bad date. What if it was a terrible idea, and Amity just wasn’t telling her to be nice? Or what if it was boring, and after it ended, Amity lost her feelings for Luz altogether?

“No, I think it’s sweet. Or, we could set up a romantic tunnel of love in our basem*nt? They’re kind of Hooty’s speciality.”

“…what?”

* * *

“Hey, mija,” Camilia said from the kitchen as Luz let herself into the house. “What brings you here?”

“Just here to talk,” Luz said, shutting the door. “Amity’s at school, and Eda’s meant to be working… but she’s being mean to me.”

“She is?” Camilia moved to dry her hands, before coming towards Luz. “You need me to have a word with her?”

“No, it’s okay,” said Luz, flopping onto the sofa. “She’s just… teasing me.”

“About what?”

“Me and Amity.”

Camilia sat down besides Luz, and she readjusted until her head was in her mom’s lap. “What is there to tease about?” Asked Camilia, hands coming up to card through Luz’s hair.

“You know,” Luz said, suddenly regretful that her face was in such a revealing position. “Our relationship.”

“An official relationship?” Asked Camilia.

Instead of answering, Luz brought her hands up to hide her face in them, barely holding back a groan. “You’re just the same as Eda,” she said.

“What?” Camilia sounded hurt, but there was an undertone of teasing that Luz had grown familiar with. “I’m just asking my daughter about her love-life.”

Luz pulled herself away from her mom, until she was sitting upright in the centre of the sofa. She was flushed with a soft, flustered heat – the exact feeling she’d left Eda to avoid feeling.

“Me and Amity are dating,” Luz confirmed. “Officially. Like… we’re girlfriends, and we do girlfriend-y stuff.”

“Congratulations!” Camilia said. “When did this happen?”

“Just a couple days ago,” Luz said. “But you know that I’ve liked her for a while.”

“I do,” said Camilia, nodding earnestly. “And you’re happy?”

“I mean, yeah,” Luz said, “I’m dating my crush.”

“Then I’m happy,” Camilia said, opening her arms. “Hug?”

Luz half-jumped into her mom’s arms, comforted by the familiar scent of their washing powder. “Thanks, mom,” she mumbled into Camilia’s shoulder.

“For what?”

“Just… you know,” she said, sinking herself deeper into the hug. “Being there.”

“Always,” Camilia responded. “Always, mija.”

* * *

When she got back to the Boiling Isles, the rain was softly pitter-pattering on the grass outside, a cacophony of calmness. Nobody was there to greet her – not that she’d expected someone to be, because it was the middle of the day, and everybody was busy – so she hurried into the Owl House, allowing Hooty to shield her from the small droplets for a moment, until the door was shut and she was safe inside.

“Welcome back, kid,” Eda said, not looking up from her knitting needles in her lap. “How was your visit?”

“Good,” Luz said, a little out of breath. “Where’s King?”

At that, Eda’s needles stopped, and she looked up. “Why?” She asked. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Luz said. “He’s just usually with you. It’s weird to see him missing, you know?”

“Well as far as I know, he’s upstairs. Check my room.”

“Okay,” said Luz, shrugging off her shoes before moving towards the stairs. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” came Eda’s voice.

She took the stairs two at a time, because she could, and it was sort of a habit, before getting to Eda’s doorway. The door was hanging half open already, but Luz knocked anyway. “King?”

“Yeah?” Came his voice from inside the room.

“Can I come inside?”

“Sure,” King said, and Luz pushed the door the rest of the way open.

Although she didn’t like the rain, she had to admit that its soft glow, through the massive Owl House stained-glass window seated in Eda’s room, was truly beautiful. King sat in front of that window, apparently having come to the same conclusion – because he sat, watching the gentle shower, quiet and content.

She’d wanted to talk to King – but seeing him, not talking, so at home in his peacefulness, she didn’t know what to say that could respectfully break that. So, she wandered in, careful not to make noise, and sat beside him.

From their seat, the section of the window that was clear, plain glass, was visible besides its colourful counterparts. Standing at the door, the glow of the raindrops had blended into a wall of yellow-ish gold, unremarkable besides the rest of the window – but up close like this, the small droplets became unique, distinct.

“They’re like fireflies, right?” Asked King.

Luz considered that for a moment. “How do you know what fireflies are?”

“I watched a human movie with your mom,” said King, as if that was a normal fact. “She explained them to me. Humans have such cool insects.”

“When have you been hanging out with my mom?”

King turned to Luz at that, shrugging his little shoulders. “You’ve been busy,” he said, “and your mom needed somebody to update her about your life.”

That sent a wave of guilt through Luz – one she couldn’t quite quell away, yet. True, she’d been absorbed with other things, all of which she’d deemed more important than a weekend trip home (time wasted, her brain reminded her, had been the not-so-nice words she’d used when justifying her missing that first weekend – but it had felt like she’d needed all the time she could get in the Boiling Isles, just to fix all the mess) – but… how had she missed something as big as this?

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” King said, turning back to the window. “I told her you’re like my sister, so I’m like her son. It only makes sense that we bond, right?”

“I guess,” Luz said, drawing her knees up to her chest to rest her head on something steady. “I just should’ve realised.”

“No biggie,” said King. “We’re still tight.”

Luz couldn’t help but let out an amused breath at how quickly King changed his vocabulary to jokey and non-serious. “Super tight,” she affirmed. “Air-tight.”

“Oven-baked,” said King, and Luz had to do a double take.

“What is it with you guys and weird human references today? How do you even know what that means?”

“I did some research,” said King. “Bread-related puns. Pretty good, right?”

“So… we’re oven-baked?”

“Yeah!”

“Awesome,” said Luz, turning back to the window. “I’ll… give me a while to decipher that one.”

* * *

“Luz,” were the first words Amity said when she got back home.

(Well, if things were getting technical, the first words Amity had said as she re-entered the Owl House was ‘stop it, Hooty! I don’t want to hear about the pigeon you swallowed earlier!’ and then a not-so-nice expletive when Hooty threw up said pigeon, as if Amity hadn’t believed he’d swallowed it – but Luz had chosen to erase that interaction from her mind, and count Amity’s first words as the first ones she had said once physically inside the house.)

“Hey, Amity,” she responded, before she was swept into a hug from Amity. “Woah – what’s up?”

“Nothing,” said Amity, clutching Luz, her slightly cooler skin a nice feeling against where Luz was now beginning to flush. Come on – Luz could call herself cool all she wanted, but when a pretty girl took her off-guard like this, she couldn’t help but get a little flustered, all right? “It’s just raining.”

“…And?”

“And,” said Amity, pulling away from the embrace. Luz tried not to mourn the loss, “I know it’s raining, and you don’t really like the rain – so I was just wondering how you were doing.”

At that, Luz couldn’t help it if she wanted to – her insides just turned to chocolatey goo, melting inside of her. “My day was good,” she said, suddenly bashful. “How was yours?”

“Fine,” said Amity as she took off her coat, abandoning it alongside her shoes at the front door, and sweeping an arm around Luz’s waist, guiding the two of them until they were smoothly seated on the sofa. “Tell me more about yours.”

Titan above, what was going on right now? Luz felt like a fire-hydrant. Had Amity suddenly gotten a lesson in game, in the hours since they’d last seen each other? And how on earth was it working?

“I… visited my mom,” she started with. “And – you know. Told her about us.”

Amity’s arm, still around Luz, squeezed gently, supportively. “How did she react?” Asked Amity.

“Good,” Luz said honestly. “She’s, uh, happy for us, and stuff.”

“That’s great!” Amity said.

“Yeah,” Luz nodded, “and Eda knows, too – I told her too, I mean – and the reaction was pretty similar.”

At that, Amity faltered slightly. “Cool,” she said, although it was a little more strained than her previous speech. “What did she say, exactly?”

“Oh, I dunno… that she’s proud of us. That we could go on a romantic tunnel of love in the basem*nt. Just… normal stuff, really.”

“Okay,” said Amity, a little breathy. And then, again, “okay.”

“Are you alright?” Luz asked, shifting until she was better facing Amity.

“Yeah, yeah,” Amity waved her off, “I was just sort of worried about Eda’s reaction.”

“What? Why?”

“Just…” Luz reached out to grasp Amity’s hand between her own as she spoke, and Amity’s voice faltered, eyes dipping to the contact momentarily. “I wasn’t worried worried, but Eda’s pretty protective over you, you know?”

Luz shrugged. “I guess.”

“And – sure, I’ve been living here a while, but what I have is nothing compared to you and Eda – and, I don’t know, I was kind of stressed that she’d think I wasn’t good enough for you, or something.”

“You’re good enough for me,” Luz assured, squeezing Amity’s hand.

“I – that’s not the point, though,” said Amity. “It’s like: Eda loves you, so much, and someone starts dating you – me or somebody else, it’s whatever – we take you away from her a little, right?”

Luz didn’t quite compute, but Amity was looking at her, so wide-eyed and expectant, almost frantic, that she nodded along.

“So – I was just worried that because of how close you two are, if I’m that person that starts to take you away, Eda might… resent me a little?”

“She would never,” Luz said emphatically as the puzzle pieces of Amity’s statement began clicking together for her. “I mean, yeah, Eda and I are close and stuff, but she was really happy for me – for us.”

“Okay,” said Amity. “That’s great, then. Nothing needs to change.”

“Nope.” Luz said, satisfied.

“You two talking about me?”

Luz spun around to see Eda standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a light-hearted grin on her face, arms crossed casually.

“A little,” Luz said, at the same time Amity squeaked, “no!”

Eda straightened up, eyes narrowing as she did. “Right,” she said. “Well – the door was actually open the whole time, so I heard your cute little conversation anyway.”

Luz’s eyes widened, and she felt Amity’s anxiety almost comically at her back. “It’s all good,” Eda waved off. “I’m happy for the two of you, and Amity – I know you aren’t stealing my kid.”

“I promise not to,” Amity said, attempting earnestness, but ending up just north of high-strung.

“Good,” said Eda, “so we’ve reached an agreement.”

“Stop being intimidating,” Luz said, finally having enough of Eda’s teasing. “She’s anxious enough as it is.”

“What, I can’t have a little fun?” Eda’s stance changed almost immediately, until she was playfully leaning against the doorframe. “How about me and Amity have a little talk – the ‘if you ever hurt Luz, I’ll –‘”

“Maybe later,” Luz interrupted, standing up. “Is food ready?”

“You’re lucky it is,” Eda said. “But don’t think you’re escaping this!”

Behind her, Luz could’ve sworn Amity let out a mouse-like squeak.

* * *

After dinner, as was scheduled, Luz went on a heavily monitored, Oracle-related walk through the woods. Her hands, as she’d practised, were in front of the necklace that hung under the thin cloth of her top, hiding its soft pink glow as she maintained the connection back to the Owl House.

“I’m not liking this very much,” Luz said aloud, stepping over a branch she’d barely caught sight of in time. The moon wasn’t high enough yet to shine completely through the trees, and cast creepy shadows all around the forest. “Are we sure this will even work?”

‘It’s worth a shot’, came Eda’s voice through their Oracle-link. ‘Stop talking.’

“I can’t help it,” hissed Luz, continuing to walk. “I’m creeped out, and I’m trying to get caught on purpose, and it’s not very nice being alone out here.”

‘You aren’t alone – you’ve got the owls.’

“Oh, ha-ha, how very funny,” Luz whispered, having to move a branch out of her way with an elbow to prevent the bond from being broken with Eda. “Of course you’d count the Owls as company – you’re the Titan-trodden Owl Lady.”

‘Seriously, be quiet. You don’t know whether they’re listening or not.’

Instead of verbally expressing her frustration, Luz let out a huff – as indignant as she could possibly make it – as she continued making her way further into a forest. Something small (but probably dangerous) scampered behind her, into some bushes, and she had to fight a visible shiver at the sound.

‘Nice work, kid,’ said Eda as Luz kept going. ‘Don’t forget, we’re still here.’

Yeah, sure feels like it. Luz – alone in their plans again, doing all the dirty work whilst Eda and Amity could kick back and relax at the Owl House all night. Perfect.

She wasn’t even a focal part of the plan – just a distraction, so that Ed (still home from his trek, and according to Amity, not going back, if he could help it) could snoop around and find some ‘important documents’ that Luz hadn’t even been told the contents of. And, come on, if she was going to be the one on the ground, surely she should be given a little more detail about what exactly she was helping work towards.

‘You’re near where Mrs Blight last caught you now, kid,’ came Eda’s voice – still disconcerting, an echo in her head only. ‘Hang in there. It’s probably not long until-‘

Eda kept talking, but a familiar warping sound sent a sharp gust of wind through the leaves around her. Luz froze, drowning Eda’s voice out, whole body tensing, as two distinct footsteps sounded behind her.

She turned, slowly, to see Mr and Mrs Blight.

“Hello, Luz,” said Mrs Blight. “What brings you into our section of the forest?”

Chapter 34: the way the sun sets

Chapter Text

Luz had to physically push down a flinch, and then shove the desire to move her arms into a defensive position even deeper. “Hello,” she greeted, wary but unafraid. “I thought you might be looking for me.”

Mrs Blight hummed – in agreement? – scanning the trees around them. It wasn’t dark, yet – but it was getting close enough to sunset that an inkling of worry made itself known, swirling gently at the base of Luz’s skull. She’d use a light glyph, but… that required moving her hands, tucked in what probably looked like a terrified gesture against her chest, effectively breaking the connection. And she didn’t want to be alone, yet.

The necklace seemed to pulse, a second heartbeat alongside her own, and Luz imagined that she had people around her. Eda, definitely, and King; and Amity, and Willow, and Gus.

“Like I asked before,” Mrs Blight’s voice sliced straight through her thought process. “What brings you out here?”

“I was on a walk, actually,” Luz said, straightening her spine and giving her best defiant look. She’d had that statement prepared – they’d sat down and worked through Luz’s excuses, for when questions came up. If Luz needed to be a distraction for long enough for behind-the-scenes magic to be worked, she needed to be convincing.

She’d always had a little flare for acting anyway, if she said so herself. This type of thing just… came naturally. No biggie.

“This late?” Mrs Blight tilted her head to one side in question. “Surely you know dangerous it is, alone and in a dark forest.”

“Time doesn’t really matter to me,” Luz shrugged. “I’m suspended anyway.”

‘You’re doing good,’ said Eda through their connection. ‘Keep her talking.’

“Right,” at that, a smile curled the putrid purple of Mrs Blight’s upper lip into an imitation of the slivered crescent moon, just beginning to rise above the horizon. “I remember. How’s that going for you?”

“Great,” Luz said, a little bitterness in her voice. “Gives me lots of free time, to… go on walks.”

“I see,” said Mrs Blight, face dropping slightly with visible, dripping disdain. “And how’s our darling daughter doing?”

Luz paused at Mrs Blight’s use of the word ‘our’ – Mr Blight it had seemed, had almost vanished completely into the background, looking somehow neutral, even a little bored, at the proceedings. Like Mrs Blight had dragged him along, but he had better things to do. Surely, he cared about his daughter, too – not quite in the twisted way Mrs Blight seemed to, but enough to begin paying attention at the prospect of news about his own child, who he hadn’t seen in months?

“She’s good, actually,” Luz said, shifting her weight. “She’s having fun cleaning up the mess you caused.”

Mrs Blight let out a half scoff, half laugh – it fell slightly flat, a foot or so away from Luz. “I caused?” She asked, voice heightening in pitch with growing infuriation. “You deserved, child.”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Luz. “You’ll have a difficult time trying it again – we’re looking out, now.”

‘Maybe don’t goad her?’ came Eda’s voice again. ‘Let’s just… stick to safe topics.’

“Why are you here, anyway?” Luz asked. “Were you watching for me or something?”

‘Luz,’ warned Eda, just as Mrs Blight said, “of course we were.”

At that, Luz paused, blinking a couple times in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, don’t go thinking you’re special,” waved Mrs Blight. “Anybody that comes too deep into this forest is our concern. It is Blight-owned land, after all.”

“…it is?” Asked Luz.

“Of course. Well; it’s recently acquired, at a discounted price from the Emperor himself – but it’s Blight land, all the same.”

“Why?” Luz asked. “We’re so far from Blight Manor. What could you possibly want here?”

Mrs Blight’s eyes seemed to visibly light up with something that made Luz want to shiver. “We’re planning an expansion of Blight Industries,” she said, unable to keep a proud smirk off of her face. “And we’ll need more factories – what better place, than here? Nobody’s using it – apart from that pesky little house you’ve been staying in.”

“You want to buy the Owl House?” Luz found herself asking. “That’s… Eda owns it.”

“And Emperor Belos owns the island, so all the land is his,” Mrs Blight’s voice was morphing, into poorly complained glee. “And, considering my family has recently been in his good graces…”

One of her hands reached out just to the side of Luz, caressing a leaf as it sat, the burnt orange hues of sunset shadowed through the foliage, to make it look as if it were on fire. “I don’t think we’ll have any issues with anybody in our way.”

Distantly, Luz could feel Eda’s words, through their still-open connection, but she can also feel her heart, beating faster now at the prospect. The Owl House – the entire forest – bulldozed to create huge, hulking factories, that created massive abomination armies for the Emperor. “You can’t do that,” Luz said.

“I think you’ll find that I can,” responded Mrs Blight.

“It won’t make Amity come back, you know,” Luz continued. “She doesn’t want to – not two months ago, not now, not ever – and no matter how much you threaten us, you’re only pushing her further and further away.”

“Don’t be daft,” said Mrs Blight, but Luz pushed on.

“You’re a terrible mother. What kind of parent thinks threats are the way to mend a relationship? You’re the one that pushed her away. It’s your fault.”

Through her connection, she could hear Eda having a one-sided conversation with somebody else. Her head felt like clutter, filled with fodder – so she let her arms drop to her side, breaking the connection, if only for a moment.

“It’s your fault,” she repeated, emphasizing every word, “and Amity will never come back.”

“Be quiet!” Mrs Blight’s words came out on the verge of a hiss. “I’ve had enough of you for one day. Go home.”

Luz opened her mouth to bite out a, “fine,” but Mrs Blight brought her hands up, one grabbing Luz by the shoulder, the other reaching for her own necklace – and suddenly Luz was warping, a split second of nothingness, before she appeared, several feet away from the Owl House.

“Luz!” called Hooty, watching as she staggered, one step closer to the mushroom circle, before promptly throwing up all over Eda’s new, nice runes.

She heard more than saw the door open, and then there were people at her side, holding her hair and rubbing at her back. “Sorry,” she said, coughing up a little more bile, arms over her middle, almost protectively. “Oracle magic really… sets off the ol’ human stomach, you know?”

Lifting her head, she caught a glimpse of the look shared between Eda and Amity – disbelieving, but thankfully deciding not to bring it up now. “I’m proud of you, kid,” Eda said, taking Luz by the shoulders to look at her for one moment, before embracing her.

Mrs Blight’s touch had been so sudden – not long enough to burn an imprint in Luz’s arm, but… enough to make her queasy, she supposed. “Thanks,” she said. “Was it long enough? Did we get what we needed?”

“Yeah,” said Amity, and Luz pulled out of Eda’s hug only to get swept into another. “Why’d you drop the connection? We were all worried.”

“I dunno,” Luz shrugged. “Swept up in the moment, I guess. It all worked out fine, anyway.”

“Yeah, and you’re lucky it did,” said Eda, being the first to stand. “Come on – let’s head inside. I can whip up some hot stag beetle juice.”

“Eurgh, I hate that stuff,” said Luz, leaning against Amity to help her stand, one hand coming to wipe at her mouth. “Don’t we have any… I dunno, coffee or something?”

“Nice try, kiddo,” Eda said, watching as Luz and Amity began heading back to the House. “Your mom told me human teenagers shouldn’t be having too much crofaine.”

“…you mean caffeine?”

“Yeah, same thing.”

* * *

The moment Luz sat down in the living room, she was asleep. Amity, who had been helping her walk, and thus helped her sit down, had become her unwitting pillow.

“Huh,” said Eda as she was greeted with the sight, having whipped up two mugs of hot beetle juice, and one hot chocolate, somewhat struggling to carry all three. “I should’ve known she’d have conked out the moment this was over.”

“It is pretty late,” said Amity as she gratefully accepted her mug, careful not to jostle Luz as she did so. “And… you know, emotions were high, and all that.”

Eda jut hummed, looking fondly at Luz. “She should probably brush her teeth, though. Camilia was telling me that human stomachs have this special acid in them, to help digest their food.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Amity said, trying to fight a grimace. Acid… inside them?

“Good for the stomach, but bad for the throat and the teeth,” Eda clarified. “For some reason. Anyway. Drink up, kiddo.”

Amity obeyed, taking another sip from her mug. “So,” she said setting it down gently in her lap, “the plan really is… going to plan?”

“Yup,” nodded Eda, taking her own seat on Luz’s other side, using the armrest as back support. “She did good today. And so did you.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” Amity traced the pattern of the mug with her fingers, relishing in the gentle heat it provided. “Just… sat.”

“You supported Luz,” Eda said, gesturing at the position they were in currently – Amity literally acting as Luz’s pillow – “and you helped me out. Just because we’re not out there, fighting head-on or whatever, doesn’t mean nothing good is happening.”

“It’s just-“ Amity let out a huff of frustration, looking down. “It doesn’t feel like that.”

“I know,” Eda said understandingly.

“I want to be out there, doing stuff,” Amity attempted to gesture, but her movement jostled Luz slightly, and she froze, watching to see if she would wake up. After a moment, Luz settled back into her slumber, relaxing into stillness against Amity.

“I get it, trust me,” Eda nodded. “But… you don’t always have to be moving. You’re just a kid.”

“I’m sixteen,” Amity said defiantly into the rim of her mug, taking another large sip and enjoying the way it heated her insides.

“A kid,” Eda re-emphasized, “that’s been through enough for a lifetime. I’m not saying nothing bad will ever happen to you again, because no matter how much I’d like to, nobody can make that promise. But I am saying, let the adults handle it.”

“But this is my mess,” said Amity.

“No,” Eda said, reaching over to place a hand on Amity’s shoulder – a grounding touch. “Nobody’s blaming you for anything, okay? You were caught up in a bad situation, and you got out. Basic self-preservation. Anybody would’ve done the same.”

“But… it’s me, though.”

Eda sighed, long and heavy. “I get that you’re feeling guilty,” Eda began. “And I know I can’t really do much to quell that – but with time, you’ll realize that you’ve done nothing wrong, alright?”

“…alright,” Amity said, and in some lower layer of her heart, she hoped she felt that it was the truth.

From besides her, Eda seemed to sense that Amity’s acceptance wasn’t the end of the issue – but a snort from Luz as she shifted again had them both chuckling breathlessly, trying to stay quiet to let her sleep more. Eda looked to her own mugs – one of which, she’d been gently nursing, and the other holding a watery brown liquid.

“I’ve still got Luz’s hot chocolate. Want to try?”

“Sure,” said Amity, putting her own mug down and reaching out for Eda to pass her the other. She lifted it slowly to her lips, not before giving it one last side-eye, before taking a long sip.

“How’s it taste?”

“Sweet,” said Amity once she’d swallowed. “And hot.”

“Well, yeah. It’s in the name. But is it good?”

“I think I burnt my tongue,” said Amity, handing the mug back. “You try.”

Eda studied the liquid for a moment, before shrugging to herself and taking a sip too. Amity watched as she fought back a splutter, putting the mug down and fighting to swallow.

“It is hot,” Eda said, nose wrinkling. “And a little watery.”

“It’s not bad, though,” Amity said, giving a one-shouldered shrug. “I get why you’d drink it.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Eda looked down into the mug for another couple of seconds, swirling the liquid gently, before putting it onto the ground and standing. “Alright, hand over the kid. I’m gonna put her to bed, I think.”

Amity nodded, shifting to let Eda get a steadying arm under Luz’s back, the other just below her knees. Eda let out a short, swift breath in preparation, before lifting Luz upwards. Her face seemed to visibly strain with the effort; Luz, in comparison, looked peaceful and calm as her head lulled onto Eda’s shoulder, a natural arc.

“I’ll be back down in a minute,” Eda said to Amity, quieter now that she was holding a sleeping Luz. “Drink your stag-beetle juice – and some more of the hot chocolate, if you can stomach it.”

* * *

When Luz woke, it wasn’t to the sun making itself known with a beam directly across her face. That was present, sure – but she’d already been rousing from sleep, drowsy and half-conscious, because of a sudden presence at the edge of her bed.

King, the other presence in the room, had been a heater, curled by her shoulder, since halfway through the night – when she hadn’t even been able to rouse herself fully, only turning towards him as he curled into himself, probably mumbling incoherent nonsense about some dream she was having. He’d been a staple in her sleeping routine, recently – had outgrown his own bed a little while ago (and, as Luz was shocked to realise, was still growing, and wouldn’t just be her little cuddle-monster-slash-best-friend forever) and decided his home was now with her. Not that she was complaining.

She was, however, complaining at being prematurely woken up, with a sunbeam across her face, and a presence at the end of her bed.

Squinting, she tried to shift out of the light, if only to be able to open her eyes – but it seemed to follow her everywhere she went. So she gave up, settling back onto her pillow and squeezing her eyes as tightly shut as she could.

“Who is it?” She asked, voice as groggy as she felt.

“It’s Eda,” said Eda, tone humorous – and, of course Eda had just seen her struggle, and was probably laughing at her. Whatever – Luz couldn’t see it, so it wasn’t her problem.

“What’s up?” She asked, trying to dredge up some energy to sit herself up.

The presence – now identified – lowered itself until it was seated on the mattress besides Luz’s legs, causing her body to tip slightly. Enough that she escaped the sunbeam, and was finally able to squint her eyes open, slowly.

Eda was smiling softly, and holding a steaming cup of… something. “Morning,” she greeted.

Luz hummed, sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. The events of the previous day trickled into her mind, but she tried to let them pass through – Eda was here, and she was safe, and she didn’t want to freak out this early in the morning and wake King.

“What’s up?” She repeated, leaning back until her arms, outstretched behind her, were supporting most of her weight.

“I bought tea bags,” Eda said, holding the mug she’d brought in slightly to showcase, “and I need your opinion on how authentic they are.”

“You woke me up for that?” Luz asked, unable to keep the grouchiness fully out of her words.

“Yes,” Eda said, “because it’s mid-morning, and I don’t want your sleeping schedule getting all messed up. Now, come on. Drink.”

With one hand, Luz reached for the mug, taking a tentative sip. Huh. “It’s okay,” she said. “Could use a little sugar.”

“You and your sweet tooth,” Eda shook her head. “I should’ve known.”

“It’s pretty authentic, though,” said Luz, taking another sip. Tea had always been a personal favourite of hers, even though she didn’t have it often. “Where’d you get it?”

“Trust me, kid, you don’t wanna know,” said Eda. “But it’s good?”

“Yeah,” Luz said, looking up at Eda properly for the first time that morning.

Last time Eda had come into her room like this, she’d left to go and see Lilith. “Is there anything else?” Luz asked, not willing to beat around the bush.

Apparently, Eda was – willing to beat around the bush, that was. Desperate to, even. Because she completely ignored Luz’s question, instead saying, “you know, Amity and I tried hot chocolate last night.”

“Oh?” Luz said, somewhat intrigued – both by the line, and by Eda’s direct avoidance.

But Eda took it as a queue that Luz had bought into her subject change, and continued. “It’s pretty sweet, too. I get why you like it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Luz asked, eyes widening in mock hurt. Eda merely smiled back, holding her gaze only for a moment.

“It was alright, though,” she said. “Not my favourite, but… good.”

Luz set the mug off the side of the bed, hands coming to rest in her lap. “What’s really up, Eda?”

Eda let out a long sigh. “Just… here to check you didn’t choke on your own spit in the night.”

“Jeez,” Luz said, making a face. “Morbid much?”

“You know what I mean,” Eda waved off. “Just checking in.”

“Well… I’m all good,” Luz said, nodding. “Promise.”

Eda studied her for a few seconds – like Luz would crack, if examined long enough, spilling all of her true feelings onto the bedroom floor. Instead, she just gave an awkward smile, shrugging her shoulders.

“Alright,” said Eda, standing, “well that’s good. I also came to tell you to get up.”

At that, Luz really made a face. “What? Why? What’s the point?”

“The day’s wasting away without you,” Eda said, beginning to head to the door.

“You don’t wake King up like this,” Luz protested.

“Because King is a growing boy that needs his beauty sleep. And – come on, look at him. You want to wake that adorable little thing?”

Luz spared a glance to King – snoozing peacefully, even though the sunbeam had migrated and was hovering over one of his eyes. “Fine,” she said, standing too. “But don’t say I didn’t protest.”

Eda put one hand on the doorknob, before hesitating visibly, turning back to Luz. “Oh, one more thing,” she said, in a half-masked attempt at casual. Luz immediately paused, watching her.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Now that we’ve taken care of the Blight Manor stuff, we’re moving onto the second part of the plan.”

Chapter 35: one thing old, one thing new

Chapter Text

In all her years in the Boiling Isles, Luz Noceda had never once stepped foot into a bar. Technically, she’d stepped toes, and boots, and sandals – they’d been bounty hunters for a while, after all, and some of the types of people they ‘hunted’ frequented these places – but never a whole foot, for a genuine reason.

She was also for the record, just bordering seventeen – too young in the human realm for alcohol, and certainly (in Eda’s books, for lack of knowledge of any actual ‘law’ – Eda wasn’t the type to care about educating her on that kind of thing, and she wasn’t the type to press for that type of knowledge when she was being taught magic) too young here as well. And yet, apparently phase two of the plan included entering a dingy little witch bar at midday, with her surrogate mother-figure Eda, her technically-surrogate-Aunt Lilith (but only by association), and the Titan-damned Golden Guard.

(…Did that make the Golden Guard her cousin?)

The bar was grimy, in a word, with windows so caked up that little of the natural daylight filtered through, inducing the vague appearance of timelessness. It was small, too – with a short ceiling and crowds of tables creating an inescapably claustrophobic feeling. Plus, funnily enough, it was already pretty full (for midday, which, from Luz’s limited knowledge, was not the usual time to frequent a bar.)

Lilith pushed her way through the crowd like she’d done it before, despite looking severely out of place in the midst of a crowd that matched the bar they frequented – under-cleansed, already getting rowdy, and packed besides each other tightly enough that Luz could only see distinctly not-people-filled areas that she had to assume were circular tables and booths, rather than a pathway that Lilith seemed to be carving out by memory.

“Do we really have to be here?” Luz asked Eda subtly, nose scrunching at the smell of the place.

“Yup,” Eda said back, as Hunter followed in what little space Lilith had left behind her. “No magic, so no record of us being here.”

“And no cleaning spells,” Luz muttered to herself as she and Eda followed their companions to a table. People were standing over them from every direction, and yet the seats (which Luz had to wrestle to pull out and actually sit on) were empty.

She looked to her left, where Hunter had sat. He was already watching her, a semi-sneer on his face. She glared back, crossing her arms over her chest and trying to ignore the smell.

“What do you guys want?” She asked Lilith and Eda, who were sat together on the opposite side of the table.

“Nothing,” Eda said, right as Lilith said, “None of your business.”

Luz frowned at Lilith. Technically her aunt or not, she wouldn’t take sh*t from anybody. “Actually, it is my business. I’m the one that started all this, remember?”

“Luz,” Eda warned, raising an eyebrow. “We’re all friends here.”

Luz and Hunter exchanged dubious glances. “Right,” she said, leaning away from him in her chair slightly. “So, what are we here to discuss?”

“You need favour in the Emperor’s Coven,” Hunter began, “and we’ve got it.”

Lilith opened her mouth, but a hulking purple figure emerged from the crowd, sudden enough that Luz had to fight not to flinch. “Eda!” Came a booming voice from man, somehow projecting over the already-loud chatter of the bar.

“Hey, Saul!” Eda stood, hugging the man. “How’ve you been?”

“Ah, alright,” he said as they pulled back from the hug. Titan – he practically dwarfed her, head brushing the ceiling. One jump and he’d be done for. “Missing your patronage.”

“I’m here now,” she shrugged.

‘Saul’s eyes turned to the table, surveying – Lilith, then Hunter, then her. His eyes were pupil-less, black pits, making the probably-genuine grin that was splitting his face seem sinister. “This must be your human kid, no?”

“Yeah,” Eda chuckled. “That’s Luz.”

Before she could react, she was being picked up from her seat and crushed in a hug. “Hi,” she wheezed, unable to hug back with her arms caught by her sides.

“Hey, watch it – she’s human. Fragile bones, and all that.”

“Right, right,” Saul said right by her ear, putting her down and allowing her to catch her breath. “So, can I get you anything for the table?”

“Not right now,” Eda declined.

“Oh, come on! You don’t want a round of Whizzberry co*cktails for one?”

“I’m not as young as I used to be, Saul,” Eda said, shaking her head. “Gotta protect myself. If anything, it’s Appleblood these days.”

Saul sighed good-naturedly. “Alright. I’ll be at the bar if you change your mind.”

He disappeared, back into the crowd, and Luz slumped over in her seat, placing a hand on her lungs as she sucked in breath. “Who was that?” She asked, looking up at Eda.

“Saul,” she said. “He’s the owner of this place. We dated, for a while – but after he changed careers, it all started to fall apart.”

“Changed careers?” Luz asked.

“Yeah. He was a chef, but had a bit of an unfortunate name. Got teased enough for it that he decided to just work alone in this dump.”

“What do you mean, an unfortunate name?”

Eda looked at her for a second. “He had to make the ‘T’ in his name silent.”

Saul…t. Luz turned it over in her head for a few seconds. Sault.

Oh. Well… that was an unfortunate name.

“Back to the topic at hand. Hunter’s description was a bit of an oversimplification,” said Lilith, jumping in. “What Hunter means to say is that he has the ear of Emperor Belos, and I’m influential enough to persuade the Coven heads, if needs be.”

Eda frowned at that slightly, but made no move to interject as Lilith continued. “Therefore, you need us for your plan.”

“Why do we need you, exactly?” Luz asked.

“It’s about what Edric found at the Blight Manor,” Eda said. “Amity had suggested that it existed, but… there was no proof. Until yesterday.”

“Proof of what?”

“That Blight Industries was going behind the Emperor’s back,” Lilith supplied. “The Emperor likes to be exclusive with his deals – if he’s buying, nobody else should have the same products as his. But apparently Amity’s parents have been lying to his face, and dealing behind his back.”

“That’s it?” Asked Luz. “That’s all we’ve got to threaten the Blights with?”

“Yup, that’s it,” said Eda. “And it’s more than enough, trust me.”

“If it ever came out, they’d be ruined – no more company, no more influence. And I’m willing to bet they care more about their image than they do about their daughter.”

Luz frowned at that. Lilith was probably right – for Mrs Blight especially, the prestige of their name meant everything. It had even stopped them from going public with Amity’s disappearance and demanding she returned home. But to have it spoken so bluntly felt a little like a punch to the face. Her thoughts turned to her own mother, as if reflexively. She’d never do that kind of thing, because she wasn’t a bad person. She cared about Luz, and Luz knew it as well as she knew her own name. She’d been so lucky, and she’d never even noticed it before.

“Hey, kid,” said Eda, leaning over to swat Luz on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it too much. Amity’s out of there now, right?”

“…right,” said Luz, trying to mask the frown that had settled on her face, unsuccessfully. “Anyway – aren’t the two of you worried about being involved?”

“Well, if the Blights ever did decide to snitch, it would cost them much more than it would cost us,” Lilith said, examining her nails nonchalantly. “I’ve been on the verge of a demotion for a while now – and I’ve actually been thinking about going back to work in the museum, anyway.”

“You are?” Eda asked, turning to Lilith. “I knew you wouldn’t regret that history degree!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lilith waved Eda off, although a genuine smile had begun to grow on her face – the first one Luz had ever seen on her, actually. It softened out all her harsh edges, leaving her remarkably human-looking.

“I’ll be alright, too,” Hunter said. “I’ll continue my work, as long as I don’t have to live there anymore.”

“You can always come to me,” Lilith said firmly, “if Darius is a terrible housemate.”

Hunter nodded, but didn’t meet her – or anyone’s – eye. “You guys probably need an in in the Emperor’s Coven, anyway.”

At that, a sudden wash of respect for Hunter seemed to trickle slowly over Luz. She hadn’t ever thought much about his position; from how Eda referred to him, she’d always seen him as ‘The Golden Guard: the Emperor’s own nepotism baby, with everything handed to him on a silver platter.’ She’d never stopped to consider that he was struggling, too. That it could even be a difficult role to be born into.

In all honesty, she’d been wrapped up in her own affairs too much to examine anybody else’s. And now, even though he was getting help, she was too late.

“You’re right,” Eda said, “and thank you, kid.”

Hunter looked up, shrugging a little awkwardly, and a moment of silence passed over the table, as nobody knew quite what to say next. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it genuinely seemed like it may actually work.

“So we… what? Threaten the Blights?” Luz asked.

“That’s the plan,” said Eda, nodding. “They’ll be kicked right back into line. No more intervention into Amity’s affairs if she doesn’t want it.”

“But nothing’s even happening,” Luz protested. “It’s just a promise, right?”

“Not even that,” said Hunter, unhelpfully. Luz fought the urge to glare at him. They were allies, she reminded herself. Allies.

“It’s enough, trust me,” Eda said. “Crossing the Emperor, in the upper circle, is like social suicide.”

Luz was trying, but trust was a little difficult. It just felt… inadequate. All this struggle, and their solution was beating the Blights with a measly little conversation?

Then again, conversations had been just how the Blights had one-upped Luz – several times, now. If she’d had a few moments longer to think about it, she could’ve probably come up with some metaphor about the true power of words, or something.

But instead, the conversation continued, with Lilith saying, “Alright, now about our side of the deal.”

“Right,” said Eda, making a hand gesture that prompted Lilith to continue.

“Part of your Blight blackmail needs to include Hunter’s removal from their shows,” she said bluntly. “They need to explain to the Emperor that they don’t need a test subject anymore, and that they’re parting amicably.”

The way Lilith worded it made it seem almost business-like. It was odd – Amity didn’t often talk about the times she’d spent as a test subject for the Blight Industries’ Abomatrons (both on and off-stage, from what Luz had inferred, at different times during her life), but when she did it was never fondly. And Amity’s escape (because the more Luz reflected on it, escape was truly the only word for what had happened) had been messy and caused jagged rips, that Hunter had been pressed into to staunch the wound.

It wasn’t fair that a kid was having to do any of that, full-stop. That anybody was having to do it, really. Abhorrence rose like bile in the back of her throat.

“Deal,” she found herself saying, before Eda could. “Should be easy enough.”

“Yes, except you can’t let them know that either of us has any part in this,” Lilith said with a frown. “Make up some excuse as to why you care.”

“Like what?” Luz asked. “And why?”

“Because I worked very closely with Amity for several years as her personal coach, and once I leave the Emperor’s Coven, I’d have no protection against their well-deserved wrath,” Lilith stated calmly – as if what she had just said wasn’t a little horrifying in its own right. “And Hunter has to continue working as their contact – if they found out about his involvement, who’s to stop a little ‘work accident’ during transport?”

Luz’s eyes widened, turning to Hunter slowly. He shrugged, somewhat in resignation. “They’re weapon handlers. You get it.”

Unfortunately, she did get it. “Okay,” she said. “We can come up with an excuse – right, Eda?”

“Sure,” Eda responded. “We’ll get right to brainstorming. Is that all?”

Nobody spoke at the table, and Eda took it as her cue to stand, brushing imaginary lint (or, with the state of the bar, actual lint) off her outfit. “Luz and I are off, then. I want to pay Sault a little visit before I go, though. Are we sure we’re done?”

“There’s nothing else I can think to discuss,” Lilith said. “We’re done.”

“Great,” Eda said. Luz stood, with monumental effort – the bar was still as overcrowded as before, and the people all around their table made it difficult for her to squeeze into a standing space. “Nice talking to you both, and may the Titan watch over you.”

“You, too,” said Lilith, and then Eda was cutting an arc through the crowd.

Moving in Eda’s shadow, Luz followed her up to the bar, which was miraculously (but unsurprisingly) even louder than it had been at the table. People were sat with drinks all the way down the bar, as far as Luz could see – and others were pushing between them, trying to order drinks. There were only two bartenders – Sault, and a smaller girl with purpled skin and three eyes.

“Sault!” Eda called, and he looked over immediately.

“Eda!” He boomed back, dropping the drink he was working on to walk over. “You want a drink after all?”

“Nah, just came to say bye,” Eda said. “It’s been too long.”

“Alright,” said Sault. “You tell Raine I said ‘hey’ as well, okay?”

Luz frowned. Raine? Who was that?

Eda’s grin grew awkward. “Actually… Raine and I don’t talk much anymore.”

“What?” Sault exclaimed, loud enough to fly above the sound of the bar. “What a shame! I thought you two would stick.”

“Yeah, me too,” Eda shrugged. “Anyway – I’m heading off.”

Sault leant over the bar to pull Eda into a tight hug, until her feet were dangling slightly above the bar. She put up with it for a few moments, before patting him on the back to get him to put her down. He obeyed, before his eyes shifted onto Luz.

“And you, little human! Nice to meet you,” he boomed.

“You too!” Luz had to shout to even be heard. But if Sault hadn’t heard her words, he made no sign of it – his mouth split open into a bloody grin, all red-tinged teeth and deep brown gums, so wide it engulfed almost the entirety of his face. She gave a quick nod, even as her own smile dimmed at the sight, before Eda took her wrist and begun to guide them out.

Curiosity, like an itch in the bottom of Luz’s throat, gargled and rippled until it bubbled up into a, “who’s Raine?” yelled above the sound of the bar.

Eda made no move to reply – perhaps she hadn’t even heard Luz. But the stone had been planted, now. “Eda?” Luz called again.

They reached the door, and Eda let Luz go to pull it open, guiding them both through into the fresh(er) Bonesborough air. The cool, in comparison to the bar’s crowded humidity, sent Luz and Eda into matching poses, tilting their heads back to feel the wind against their necks.

“That went well,” Eda said, after enough time had passed that they’d cooled down and re-acclimated.

“Who’s Raine?” Luz responded.

“An old friend,” Eda said, almost automatically, before beginning a swift walk that Luz had to concentrate to catch up with.

“What kind of friend?” She asked.

“A good one,” responded Eda, picking up her pace.

“Oh, come on, Eda,” Luz pushed, jogging slightly to catch back up. “Raine was just a friend?”

Eda merely shrugged. “Hey, why don’t you head home, kid. I’ve actually got some errands to run in town.”

“I’ll come with you, then,” Luz said enthusiastically. “What do we need to do?”

Eda stopped, and, after a step or two, Luz stopped too, turning back. “I need to pick up a couple things. You need to head home,” Eda emphasized, one step away from crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head disapprovingly.

Luz found herself pouting slightly. “You don’t want me there?”

“No, it’s –“ Eda sighed. “King needs some company.”

“King’s at a book signing event today.”

“…then I guess you’re coming with me,” Eda said. “Just – do me one favour?”

Luz nodded.

“Try not to ask too many questions.”

Well, that wasn’t a great favour. As everybody that knew Luz knew, one of her most fatal flaws was her curiosity. It’d probably be one of the things that got her, in the end. She liked questioning things – hell, it had been the main factor in allowing her to accept the demon realm so easily. But Eda looked… different than usual. Her eyes were fixed, rather pointedly, on Luz’s shoulder, with what seemed like a conscious amount of effort – and for once, there was a crack in all that posturing grandeur she seemed to always carry around.

“Okay,” Luz agreed, a little softer than usual. “If you grant me a favour back.”

“Sure,” said Eda, shrugging. “Shoot, kid.”

“You talk to me about it – them – when you’re ready to?”

The beginnings of a smile began to appear on Eda’s lips, before she smoothed her expression into chilled nonchalance. “Sounds reasonable,” she said, turning on her heels abruptly and beginning to walk in the opposite direction they’d been heading. “Now – we’re off to the knee, first, because I’ve been needing a sample of orca ice…”

* * *

By the time they got home, Luz was almost exhausted enough to forget about the conversations they’d had. Eda had dragged her over half the Titan, collecting supplies, delivering favours, and (in one case) visiting old friends because she ‘happened to be in the area’, even though it had been a forty-minute trek up the path to their house. Eda, of course, could grab a glass of Appleblood and be right as rain, heading back out to check the Owl House’s runes (which had become a nightly practice, now). But Luz collapsed pitifully onto Amity’s lap, groaning overdramatically about her exhaustion, and letting her stinging eyes fall shut.

As if instinctually, Amity’s hands reached to comb through her hair – a feeling so comforting, she didn’t even care that Amity was probably mentally comparing her to King. “You had fun, then?” She asked, after Luz recounted her day out with Eda in all its glory.

“I guess,” Luz said. “I mean – the hanging out with Eda bit was fun, but the exhaustion?”

King chose that moment to jump up onto her stomach, pushing the breath out of her in an undignified wheeze. “I missed out on an adventure,” he frowned, climbing up until he was beside Luz’s head, in Amity’s lap – and she could use her other hand to stroke through his fur as well. “Eda’s always off by herself, recently.”

Luz’s eyes fell to the open door, through which she could see Eda and Hooty, bent over the protective mushroom circles, re-enchanting and discussing something inaudibly. “Yeah,” she said, a little absent-mindedly. “She’s been busy.”

“She’s protecting us,” said Amity. “Of course she’s busy.”

“And she hangs out with us plenty,” Luz said. “Even if it’s only during chores, or whatever. It’s still fun, you know?”

“But who protects her?” Luz asked, all of a sudden. Her thoughts flickered over to the ever-mysterious Raine-person – an ‘old friend’ of Eda’s, that she’d presumably fallen out of contact with. Although Eda kept herself busy, with them, and the Owl House, and work, Luz was suddenly struck with the weight of responsibility Eda must have on her shoulders.

Eda didn’t ask for any of this. Luz had been, at first, an unwelcomed, but begrudgingly accepted, guest in the Owl House – and she’d been the one to drag Amity in as well. And, despite Eda’s many reassurances that she wouldn’t change anything, if it were to happen all over again, she couldn’t help the trickles of guilt, dripping into her consciousness, slow but steady.

“Us,” King said, and Luz nodded, despite the effort it took to do so with her head pillowed on Amity’s thigh.

“You know what?” Luz declared, sitting up. “Eda needs more friends.”

Both Amity and King turned to face her as if she had a screw – or several – suddenly loose. “What?” Amity asked, perplexed.

“I mean, we’re great and all, but when was the last time Eda hung out with someone her own age?”

“Didn’t you two meet with Lilith this morning?”

“Yeah, but that was plan-focussed,” Luz waved off, righting herself so she was sitting properly, legs crossed, arms free to help articulate her feelings better. “And the ‘old friend’ we visited today was old enough to be her grandmother, and was partially for work purposes, too.”

“She just doesn’t get much time off,” Amity said. “When she does, it’s spent here – with us.”

“Exactly,” Luz nodded. “She loves us too much. But we’re almost adults! We’re gonna… I don’t know, get busy, and then she’ll be lonely and alone, and stuff.”

“…so?” Amity asked. “What’s your solution?”

Find Raine, Luz’s head whispered. But that had to be postponed – a first name wasn’t much of a clue, and she’d need more information from Eda to pursue it. Until then…

“How about we fix her relationship with my mom?”

* * *

What progressed after that breakthrough was just over an hour of brainstorming techniques and scenarios, that can be summarised (for your reading pleasure) in one simple action that resulted: Luz, stepping through the portal into the human realm, and asking her mom if she wanted to join them for dinner.

It sounded simple, sure; but the amount of tactical brilliance required, from the context to the wording to the sweet smile Luz plastered on her face (the one that, when she was younger, had always gotten her what she wanted), to get Camilia to agree to a voluntary trip to the Boiling Isles, couldn’t be underestimated.

Around an hour later, therefore, the entirety of Luz’s mismatched, odd-ball family was sat around the Owl House’s dining table, trying to eat Eda’s attempt at dinner.

“How is it?” Eda had asked as everyone was taking their first bites. She’d served what could only be described as viscous, clear cubes, drenched in a vibrant orange sauce, in a way that looked more arts-and-crafts than actually edible food. It tasted… better than her previous attempts, except now rather than being disgusting, it was dreadfully bland and bitter at the same time.

“Pretty good,” Luz had nodded, trying to be encouraging. Unable to scrounge up words from besides her, Amity just smiled supportively.

King, unfortunately, still wasn’t back – Camilia had enquired about his whereabouts, and explaining that King was technically a famous author had been… interesting. His friendship with her mother still unnerved Luz slightly, but she knew what deserved pushback – and her brother getting along with her mother didn’t ring any real alarm bells, besides the fact that the both of them were huge gossips. But if he’d been here, he’d certainly have told Eda to scrap the dish and start again; unless his demon tastebuds betrayed her again, making him believe the most dreadful meal was actually delicious.

“It’s…” Camilia trailed off, and Eda’s eyes were immediately on her, laser-sharp. Any insult from Camilia was two-sided; one, she had something to gain from one-upping Eda, given their strange competitive nature with one another. And two, in that competitive nature, Camilia was clearly winning in the cooking department.

“It’s?” Eda prompted, yet to take a bite of her own creation (and, maybe that was where she went wrong, Luz thought. Did she ever taste her own food before she served it?)

“…missing something,” said Camilia. “Hold on.”

She stood, heading to the kitchen – and all three table residents watched as she rifled around the cupboards like it was her own home. “Aha!” She said, pulling out a jar. “I knew I gave Luz some of this at one point.”

Wandering back over, Camilia went ahead and doused the pot of food with a healthy serving of… cinnamon? – before leaning over to add a touch to everybody’s plates individually. “Mix that in,” she recommended, taking a seat again, “and try it again.”

Luz obeyed, watching as the vibrance left the sauce, turning it a much healthier and more edible-looking colour. “Alright,” she said, exchanging a nervous glance with Amity. “Here goes nothing.”

She took a bite, and her eyes widened. “Holy Titan!” She said, looking over at her mom. “You’re a genius!”

Camilia laughed. “I just knew it needed something to balance it out, mija. It was a team effort.”

“Actually,” Eda said, looking slightly put-out, “I did most of the work. You just… added the finishing touches.”

“And made it bearable,” Amity muttered, causing Luz to snort. But her moms didn’t hear it, busy locked in a staring contest that was remarkably, but unsurprisingly, childish for two adults.

“Team effort,” Camilia emphasized again.

“I made the dish,” Eda refuted.

“Yes, but I helped you.”

Eda sighed, the first to drop her gaze. “Fine,” she said. “I get it. I’m not the best cook. But I still tried.”

Camilia took pity at that. “Eda…” she said, a little softer now. “Have you even tried your own food?”

Eda looked down at her dish – cinnamon-sprinkled orange cubes. “No,” she said, before spearing a cube with her fork and placing it into her mouth. Her eyes widened comically. “I made this?” She asked, directly to Camilia.

“And I helped,” Camilia nodded.

“…damn,” said Eda, looking back down at her dish. “It’s actually good.”

Camilia seemed satisfied at that, and the table began eating in earnest. Conversation picked up between her moms – something about how exactly the cinnamon balanced out the meal, and then where cinnamon came from – but Luz couldn’t focus on the details, too wrapped up in the colossal grin that was taking up residence on her face.

Amity nudged her elbow, softly, into Luz’s side. “What are you grinning about?” She asked teasingly, not taking her eyes off her food.

“Nothing,” Luz said unabashedly. “Just… everyone’s getting along. It’s nice, right?”

Amity looked back at the table – at Eda and Camilia, conversing semi-normally (as normally as those two could get.) “Yeah,” she said, her own smile beginning to form. “It is.”

“Feels like family, right?” Luz asked.

“Yeah.”

Chapter 36: something returned, something blue

Chapter Text

When Luz fell asleep that night, it was with a somewhat peaceful smile on her face. Her and Amity had taken to holding each other’s hands, as they drifted off – and the original giddiness this action caused had now faded into quiet contentment. King, who hadn’t yet gotten home, would probably join them sometime in the night, if he didn’t go up and join Eda in the main bedroom. Her mom’s visit, and the subsequent family dinner, had been fresh on her mind – a warm presence as she fell into the realm of sleep.

She woke, however, before the sun had risen. Unfortunately, this was only bad omen number one.

Now, it should be noted that, whilst Luz didn’t have the best track record with sleep, she did tend to sleep the whole night through (other than when she was interrupted by Eda’s late-night soap-opera-watching shenanigans, of course. Eda loved to loudly exclaim her opinions at the screen, waking everything within a five-mile radius with ears.) So, when she jolted awake, hand having detached from Amity’s at some point during her limited rest, it instantly felt like a bad omen (number two – not that she was counting.)

Taking care not to wake Amity, Luz shuffled out from under her sheets, standing slowly. It wasn’t a drowsy sort of morning, where the haze of sleep was slow to slip off her shoulders – instead, the veil of sleep had been ripped away from her in its entirety, leaving her uncomfortably conscious of her body and its surroundings. Thus, besides Amity’s steady breaths, and the common creaks of the House, she slowly noticed a very familiar sound.

Rainfall. Witch-rain. The type that, as she’s always said, brought bad happenings. Omen number three, if you will.

Immediately, she made a beeline for Eda’s room, wanting to check that the right precautions were set up. She’d rather avoid a section of the roof caving in, having been eroded by the cloudburst, if she could – and although Eda had been working tirelessly at the new protection spells over the House, Luz wasn’t sure those included wards against weather.

She knocked on Eda’s door only once, before entering slowly. In there, with the massive circular window, it was easier to see the rain in all its glory – harsher and heavier than she’d ever seen it in the Boiling Isles.

“Eda,” Luz whispered, ripping her eyes from the window to take in Eda and King’s sleeping figures in their nest. “Eda.”

Eda inhaled as she woke up, a hand coming up to rub at her forehead. “Kid?” She asked, voice hazy with sleep. “What’s up?”

“It’s raining,” said Luz, surprised to hear her own voice waver slightly. “Are we… do we have… um-“

“Kid,” repeated Eda, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”

“I just wanted to make sure we had the right spells,” Luz said, unable to quite meet Eda’s eyes. The rain glowed an amber-ish hue, illuminating the room in a twisted imitation of moonlight. “So that – the roof wouldn’t cave in, or anything.”

“We do,” Eda said softly. “Cast them myself. You want to sit?”

Luz shook her head. “Are you sure?” She asked. “Because… well, it’s raining pretty hard.”

“I’m very sure,” said Eda, nodding. “Come on, kiddo. Take a seat.”

Luz obeyed, sitting besides King at the foot of Eda’s bed. He was roused slightly by the movement, but seemed to curl up and fall instantly back to sleep. She watched him do so, a hand reaching out to pet him softly.

“You wanna talk?” Asked Eda, watching Luz’s actions.

“No,” said Luz, and then, “I’m okay.”

Eda watched her for a few moments, but didn’t push the issue. “Alright,” she said instead, “how about this. I’ll get up and check the roof, if you lie down and pet King.”

Luz looked up at Eda. “It’s the middle of the night, though,” she said. “Aren’t you tired?”

“A bit, but I’ve also got some excess energy to work off,” Eda said as she stood up, stretching her hands over her head in show. “I’ll be no more than ten minutes. Lie down, okay?”

Luz did so, laying her head besides King and continuing to ghost her fingers along the top of his skull. “Good,” said Eda, and then she was off.

Luz stroked King gently, watching the way his fur seemed almost green in this new light. But slowly, lulled by the repetitive movement and Eda’s assurances, she fell back into a light sleep.

* * *

Predictably, school was cancelled, and so for once, Luz, Amity and Eda sat at breakfast together. It wasn’t that they’d never had breakfast together before – only that Amity was usually running late, pulled back to bed every morning by Luz’s protests, and thus often had to run out, eating either on Hooty’s back, or whilst jogging in. Luz, who hated to admit that she’d grown somewhat lazy thanks to her lack of responsibilities, often drifted to the table only when Amity had already made her escape, picking at whatever was left before inevitably starting her own day.

Even downstairs, the sound of the rain wasn’t lessened. It pattered against the shielding spells over the house, visible through the kitchen window. Luz watched it morosely as she ate her slice of toast.

“You seem gloomy,” said Amity, over whose shoulder Luz was watching the rain.

“Sorry,” said Luz, although she was unable to find much of an apologetic attitude to match the words. She should be focussing on Amity – Amity, who wanted to hold her hand as she slept, and checked up on Luz on days like these. But every time she looked at her, the call of the droplets behind her drew Luz’s gaze.

Rather than fight the urge to look out the window, she took another large bite of toast.

“No, nothing’s wrong with it,” Amity was saying, shaking her head. “It’s just… been a while.”

Luz shrugged. “It’s the rain, I think,” she tried to explain.

“Oh,” Amity said, turning to look at the culprit herself. “Right. I should’ve known. It’s coming down pretty heavy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Luz said, biting again. It was the rain, she thought, that was making her feel this way; but the problem lay in what exactly she was feeling. She couldn’t quite put words to it – all she knew was that it wasn’t the same as before.

Before, the rain felt like a terrible warning sign, issued specifically to her. Now… the feelings of dread had been dredged up as usual, but it didn’t seem as much like a personal message. It was calmer than fear, and lighter than apprehension. Present, but… lesser. Different.

Amity’s eyes had been on her for a while. Luz broke out of her trance, meeting Amity’s own amber gaze – so similar to the rain outside. She attempted a smile.

“I’m fine,” she said, “really. I just feel a little odd.”

“I get that,” nodded Amity. “Don’t worry about it. You can be odd with me. What is it that Eda says about weirdoes? That we’re stuck?”

Luz actually smiled at that. “Kinda. Thanks, Amity,” she said.

“Sure,” Amity responded, one hand rubbing Luz’s arm comfortingly. “Anytime.”

* * *

After breakfast, Luz and Amity sat in the living room in comfortable silence. The interrupted sleep was beginning to catch up on Luz – now that there were no windows, the sound of the rain was muted enough to almost fade into the background, leaving her less on-edge and more… cautious. They’d been left with nothing to do – of course there were activities in the House that they could scrounge up, but Luz’s head had rolled off to the side, almost hitting Amity’s shoulder as she fell into a sleep-like state for only a second before jerking back upwards, that she doubted she’d be able to concentrate on anything of substance at all.

Amity helped, though. Just her presence – the warmth of her body, where their arms touched, sat side by side. She’d even gotten out that quilt she’d loved so much when she first arrived at the Owl House, and had draped it around their shoulders, causing them to cuddle into the cocoon of warmth.

“Maybe the rain is kind of annoying,” said Amity, after a long while of their sitting in silence. “It’s loud.”

Luz let out a huff of amusem*nt. “That it is,” she said, pushing herself up to adjust her position in their blanket-cocoon. “And, you know, it kills things.”

“Oh, right,” said Amity, nodding. “I always forget human rain doesn’t do that.”

Luz shut her eyes, picturing the rainfall outside as if it was appearing against her eyelids. “But… I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t think it’s all bad, anymore.”

“No?” Asked Amity, turning to look at her.

She shook her head. “I mean, isn’t it kind of pretty?”

She opened her eyes, and Amity was still watching her, an adorable little line appearing between her eyebrows. “I guess,” she said, head tilting and eyes drifting upwards in thought. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

“I still think it can bring bad things,” Luz said. “But… it brought you, too – and that’s not all bad, right?”

She couldn’t look at Amity as she said it, but the coo Amity let out before she wrapped her arms around Luz and the blanket together was telling of how well she’d taken the line. “No,” said Amity, close enough to whisper into Luz’s ear. “That wasn’t bad at all, you cheese-ball.”

Luz let herself be hugged for a few moments, before pulling back. “Cheese-ball?” She asked.

Amity flushed. “Your mom may have said it yesterday – and after you went off with King, I asked her what it meant. Did I use it right?”

Fondness filled her chest until her body felt too small to contain the magnitude of the emotion, so she let some of it out onto a kiss, delicately placed on Amity’s cheek. “You used it perfectly,” she murmured, watching in amusem*nt as Amity’s flush spread until she was sufficiently tomato-adjacent. “Now, what are we doing today?”

“Wha- but- Luz!” Amity sputtered, pulling back to press her face into her hands. Luz laughed, standing up and grabbing at Amity’s arms to pull her with her.

“Come on, sweet potato, you haven’t had a day off school in forever. Let’s do something fun!”

* * *

They baked cookies, and mixed potions, and Luz taught Amity glyphs as they settled down to watch a movie. The day seemed to pass in a blur, and Luz found herself contemplating her previous words. Truly, it felt like, despite after-schools and weekends, the only time they’d gotten together was in stolen, small moments, in amidst everything that had been going on. She’d been too in her own head to appreciate what she’d had right in front of her – and they hadn’t even been on a proper date yet, for Titan’s sake!

At some point between the movie and the not-rain-watching, Amity slipped away to do homework (or something else just as boring, Luz had grumbled), Luz fell asleep. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly when – only that when she woke up, a considerable amount of time had passed, and Eda and King had joined them in the living room and were playing a traditional deck of human cards.

She groaned sleepily, pushing the now-too-hot blanket off her shoulder and detaching herself from Amity, who she’d been heavily leaning against – she must’ve re-sought her out to do said homework, carving a space for herself besides Luz. “What…” she mumbled, hand coming up to wipe any potential drool.

“Morning, Luz!” Said King, who was struggling to hold his cards with his claws – if it was any more than four, he kept dropping the excesses and revealing them to the rest of the group. “Sleep well?”

Luz took inventory of herself; sluggish, but not tired. “Yeah,” she answered truthfully. “What are you playing?”

“Rummy,” said Eda. “Your mom taught me.”

Leaning over, Luz took a peek at Amity’s cards. “Wow,” she whispered, “doing well?”

“Don’t tease me,” said Amity, looking at her abysmal cards. “I only just learnt to play.”

Eda flipped a card from the pile, and promptly cheered. Amity gave her a weary look.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Luz. “Eda’s just weirdly good at all card games. I’m pretty sure she’s got a spell for luck.”

“I’m not a cheater, Luz,” said Eda. “I’m just too damn good.”

The game continued for a while, with Luz doing her best to coach Amity, despite not having played the game in years, and being equally awful. They didn’t give up, though; something about Amity’s trusting gaze settled on Luz as she tried to navigate the game, kept her determined and… distracted, she supposed.

It was an hour before they were broken out of their shell of comfort. A knock on the door – achingly similar to every other rainfall, where there was no window to check who was out the door, and the cold grip of dread seized Luz’s heart with both hands, stilling it to a near-stop in her chest for only a moment.

Amity’s hand found her thigh, and Luz placed her own on top – as if seeking and drawing comfort simultaneously. They each exchanged glances, hoping that a visit was at least expected.

What a world, that Luz had now come to dread adventures. Come to dread knocks on the door. She missed the boredom – the simplicity – of the before. But she didn’t miss the isolation.

Even before, she’d been missing something. And, if it were a trade-off, Luz knew exactly which life she’d pick.

“I’ll get it,” said Eda, standing. “Can’t be anything bad; I checked the runes this morning.”

She stood, and Luz watched as she made her way to the front door, swinging it open confidently. Lilith stood, slightly crouched under her umbrella-forcefield spell that was being ruthlessly pelted with rain.

“It’s done,” she said. “The Coven, short of the Emperor himself, have been informed.”

Eda nodded. “Great,” she said. “Wanna come in?”

“I shouldn’t,” said Lilith, already shaking her head and turning to leave. “Just wanted to let you know.”

“And you couldn’t have sent a letter?”

“In this weather?” Lilith gestured at the rain. “Sending an envelope would’ve been cruel.”

Eda shrugged. “Alright, then.”

“Alright,” Lilith echoed. “Just – can you do me a favour?”

“Sure, Lily,” Eda said. “Titan knows you’ve done enough for me.”

Lilith sighed, an unusual crack in her usually prim demeanour. “Can you let Amity know that I’m sorry?”

Eda was silent for a moment. “O-kay,” she said, punctuating the two syllables a little awkwardly. “For what?”

“Treating her so harshly,” Lilith said. “Being with the Golden Guard has given me time to… reflect, on my teaching methods. I’m sure she sees me as an extension of her parents – but I’d like her to know I genuinely cared about her progress, and I’m sorry for how harshly I treated her.”

Eda nodded. “I’ll pass it on. Anything else?”

Lilith shook her head. “This is goodbye.”

“For now,” Eda was quick to correct.

“For now.”

The two observed each other for a short while, before Lilith nodded amicably and turned her back on the Owl House. Luz wasn’t able to decipher what had passed between the two – maybe it was her poor position on the sofa, unable to see the full extent of their impressions, or merely the fact that she wasn’t privy to years of context between the sisters – but Eda watched Lilith until she exited the ring of protective spells, before shutting the door with a sigh.

Luz was almost tempted to ask if she was alright – almost convinced that Eda was actually affected by the previous actions – when Eda turned back to them with her signature smirk. “Alright,” she said, “am I still winning?”

* * *

The day felt long, and drawn out, and by the end of it Luz was wary and tired. But it eventually drew to a close, and Luz and Amity headed up together, as they often did now, to get ready for bed in each other’s company.

Luz gazed across the bathroom at Amity as she brushed her teeth, and washed her face, and let down her hair to go to bed – and the rainfall seemed like the least of her worries.

Amity caught her watching, a shy grin growing as she looked at Luz, looking at her. “What?” She asked, hands previously brushing through her hair slowing to a stop.

“Nothing,” Luz said.

“Really?” Amity asked, fixing Luz with a look as she headed out of the bathroom. Luz was hopeless to do anything but follow her, turning the light out as they went. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Luz said, as they entered their bedroom.

“Like… I don’t know,” Amity said. “Like that.”

Luz didn’t’ respond quickly enough, apparently, because Amity swung around to face her. “Like that,” Amity said again, studying Luz with that amber gaze of hers. “You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry?” Luz said.

“Don’t be,” Amity said, “it isn’t a bad look. Just... intense.”

Luz shrugged. “I’m thinking about where to take you on our first date.”

Amity’s eyes widened. “That was… direct.”

“Been thinking about it all day, actually,” Luz mentioned casually, enjoying the way Amity seemed both embarrassed and flattered at the words.

“Cool,” was the response Amity eventually settled on. “Didn’t realise you wanted to take me out on a date.”

“Of course I do!” Luz said, a smile growing on her face. “As long as you keep saying yes, I’ll keep wanting to go on dates with you, and do all that mushy couple stuff.”

Amity’s nose wrinkled. “You’re mushy.”

“What does that even mean, sweet potato?” Luz asked, meandering over to Amity and knocking their shoulders together. Amity’s eyes met hers in the mirror. “You don’t like my irresistible charm?”

Amity put up a valiant effort in holding her gaze, eyes glinting, but just as Luz felt her face breaking into a grin, Amity broke first, turning her head into Luz’s shoulder and groaning playfully. “I preferred you when you weren’t teasing me, you know,” she mumbled into the fabric of Luz’s pyjama shirt.

“Really?” Luz asked. “I thought you preferred me as your girlfriend.”

Amity shoved Luz then, and she stumbled back a step, laughing a little in shock. “Let’s go to bed,” Amity demanded, putting down her hairbrush to walk past Luz.

“You want me in your bed?” Luz asked.

“Luz!”

* * *

Despite all the teasing, once Luz followed Amity into their room, settling into their nightly ritual of mumbling to each other, fingers intertwined, she couldn’t sleep. This became painfully clear when, after forty-five minutes of trying, she was desperate to roll over, but not to lose contact with Amity, and thus ended up in an awkward tangle of limbs to attempt to maintain both her comfort and her hand-hold. Tiredness usually claimed her pretty quickly – and it wasn’t that she wasn’t tired (even after what some might call excessive rest during the day). It was more… lingering feelings, from the day. Unresolved feelings.

It had been a good day… but three bad omens, after all. Luz got up.

Taking care to tread lightly, Luz made her way downstairs, gearing herself up for a perimeter check at the minimum, to at least calm down her racing heart slightly. She knew that the House had its protective spells – but she didn’t know whether anything was beyond them, working on taking them down again. And, even though she knew invisibility spells worked (Titan – she could even do one herself), nothing quite beat the old human way of doing it – straight-up perception.

When she got downstairs, however, Eda was sat in the living room, too, light from the kitchen doorway illuminating her figure. She turned as Luz padded in, as awake as Luz felt despite the late hour.

“Can’t sleep?” Asked Eda. Luz could only nod.

“Yeah, me either,” Eda said, turning back to face the fireplace as Luz took a seat on the sofa besides her.

“Any reason why?” Asked Luz. Her perimeter check could wait – Eda was here, after all.

But Eda shook her head ‘no’, arms crossing over her chest. “I don’t know, kid. I’ve just got a bad feeling about this.”

Luz nodded. The rain had gotten heavier than ever – a true torrential downpour, now, thrashing against the shields violently, creating lightning-like arcs in the sky. “Is it the rain?” She asked.

“Something like that,” Eda responded.

Their conversation drifted off as they both settled into their positions, ready to await the cause of whatever bad feeling they had, together.

Chapter 37: face first

Chapter Text

It had stopped raining by the time Hooty swung the door open, announcing to the now sun-bleached room that they had mail delivered. Luz had sat, with a boulder in her stomach and Eda by her side, for the better part of the night, eyes remaining (to the best of her ability) on that very door, until she’d drooped like an overwatered stem onto Eda’s shoulder, sometime around three. That noise – the familiar swell of the hinges, had her gasping back into consciousness as if she had never left it.

“Someone’s got mail!” Hooty announced cheerily, admirably ignorant to the thick, petrichor-esque gunk that lingered in the air that morning.

“Who?” Eda asked, poking her head in from the kitchen, where she always seemed to be found on mornings like these. She looked, as she always somehow seemed to, remarkably refreshed for the morning, as her hands fiddled with a maroon kitchen towel.

“I dunno,” Hooty said, before curling himself up and regurgitating a pigeon, a handful of leaves, and several letters. “Check for yourself!”

Luz winced at the sight, rolling her shoulders and standing. “Morning,” she said.

Eda’s eyes drifted over to hers. “Hey, kid,” she said, putting the kitchen towel down and heading over to Hooty to sift through the letters, and help the petrified pigeon out of the door.

“Where’s Amity?”

“Here,” says Amity, and Luz swings to see Amity descending down the stairs, from the bedroom she’d never reached the night before. “Anything for me?”

“Hold on,” Eda was saying as she sorted through the letters. “It’s mostly junk – you’d think the semi-haunted house by the forest would scare off these people, but they just don’t quit.”

Luz wrinkled her nose semi-sympathetically, but Eda wasn’t looking her way as she finished. “Nothing,” she shrugged. “Guess we’re due for a normal day.”

As if summoned, the home phone Eda had installed in the kitchen – the one barely anybody even knew the number to – began to ring. The three of them froze, all turning towards the kitchen.

“I’ve never seen that ring before,” Luz said.

“Me either,” Eda responded. “I’ve got my scroll for all the important stuff. And who the hell calls a house this early?”

“It might be for me,” Hooty suggested. “I’ve been giving out that number to all my friends!”

After a second of contemplation, Eda seemed to disregard that idea. “I guess I should…” she began, making an awkward gesture towards the phone.

“Pick it up?” Amity suggested, at the exact same time Luz said, “smash it?”

Their gazes met across the sofa, and Luz couldn’t help a fond grin overtaking her face. “I think Amity’s idea is much better,” she said, not taking her eyes off of her girlfriend. “Pick it up?”

Eda huffed, and went to answer the phone when it abruptly stopped ringing. She froze, halfway to the machine, turned back to Luz, and shrugged. “What a shame!” She said. “Must not have been important, I guess-“

The phone began to ring again – the same incessant jingle. From upstairs, King made a groaning noise.

With another huff, Eda picked up the phone. “Who is this?” She asked immediately.

The house fell silent, as Luz tried straining to hear what was being said on the other line. She had often wondered if witches’ elongated ears enabled them to have superior hearing to humans, or if it was purely aesthetic – and, judging from Amity’s similarly strained expression, the latter seemed to be the case.

“Right,” Eda was saying. “Got it. Yup, I’ll let her know. See ya. Bye.”

She placed the phone down, effectively hanging up the call, before looking up and being fixed with two very intensely curious teenagers. “Let her know?” Luz prompted. “Who was it?”

“Was it my parents?” Amity asked.

They both turned to her. Of course, with everything going on, another threat from Amity’s parents wouldn’t have been out of place – except that they were currently in the middle of blackmailing them out of Amity’s life forever, and a phone call from them could possibly break their entirely structured (and, if Luz could say so herself, perfect) plan into pieces. It made perfect sense for that to be Amity’s first worry – and Luz found herself turning to Eda, anxious for the answer.

“No, no,” Eda waved her off, but her eyes were fixed on Luz. “It was actually for you, kiddo.”

Luz blinked. Sure, she didn’t have a scroll herself, but she’d been managing just fine with texting Willow and Gus using the brick-phones her mom had brought from the human realm, that Eda had enchanted to work even without signal (something about oracle magic and alignment? She wasn’t even going to ask). And she’d never given out the number of the house crow-phone – she was pretty sure she didn’t even know it.

“Who was it?” Luz asked.

Eda grinned. “Oh, don’t look so down! It was just Bump. He wants to see you, kiddo.”

Bump. “As in… Principal Bump?” Asked Amity.

“Yup!” Said Eda. “Forgot I gave that old bugger my crow phone number, but I didn’t want to give him my scroll details – you can imagine, he’s quite the clingy texter.”

In all the chaos, Luz had been so preoccupied with Amity and the plan and her own wellbeing that she’d almost forgotten about her indefinite suspension from Hexside. Of course, yelling at a teacher whilst in the middle of a huge emotional breakdown that had been months in the making was pretty bad, but it had been a month, and Bump had – assumedly – thought that was long enough for him to decide to finally expel her. Just like the entire school had always wanted. Humans didn’t belong, after all.

“What did he want?” Luz asked, although she was sure she already knew. Bump had told Eda to pack her bags, and Eda was overjoyed at the prospect of a once again full-time apprentice in Luz.

“Oh, he wants you to come in for a chat,” said Eda. “About your suspension, and all that.”

Eda’s mood seemed to quell a little at that, and Luz found her eyes drawn to where she was tugging at a loose thread in her pyjama trousers. “He wants to expel me?”

“What?” Eda guffawed. “No! Bump is a sweetheart – inside, at least. A huge stickler for rules, but he would never expel you unless he had a good reason… to…”

“A good reason like a student yelling and throwing stuff at a teacher?” Asked Luz.

“Hey,” Amity’s hand found Luz’s shoulder, and she jumped slightly, before relaxing back into the touch. “Maybe he wants to bring you back? We shouldn’t assume.”

Luz let out a long sigh. “You’re right,” she said, rubbing at a crease between her eyebrows – one that had seemingly become a permanent facial feature in these past few months. “Okay. I’ll go. When does he want me to come in?”

“Today,” Eda said. “Hope you’re well rested, kiddo. Don’t want any sudden unwelcome emotions to come out at a teacher.”

Luz and Amity both winced at the joke, and Eda let out a slow hiss through her teeth. “Too soon?” She asked. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll hold off until you’re back in full time education – what joy.”

The words came out brittle and sarcastic, but rung truer for Luz than she wanted to admit. She loved Hexside – seeing her friends every day, and learning the types of magic that allowed her to fit into the world that she loved so much. Sure, there were other schools, if she really was expelled – but how likely were they to accept a human in the first place? Let alone one that had reported anger issues?

Amity sat down besides her, poking her arm softly. “Whatcha thinking about?” She asked gently, in the way that she was so good at.

“Maybe I should drop out before he can expel me, and join the circus,” Luz said glumly.

Amity exchanged a confused glance with Eda. “Is that a human reference I don’t understand?” She asked, hand finding Luz’s in her lap.

Luz sighed. “Yeah, but it doesn’t matter. I’m just… worried.”

Amity’s hand squeezed hers. “We all know how that feels,” she said.

At that, Luz looked up, meeting Amity’s gaze. “Oh, I didn’t even think – the plan! You must be so worried, and it’s so selfish of me to want to leave, especially right now, when it’s almost complete. I can skip the meeting – you’re way more important anyway, and-“

“Luz,” Amity stopped her. “I meant that in a comforting way.”

“Right,” said Luz, but her head was still spinning. “But I meant it, too – you’re more important to me than a silly meeting.”

“It’s not silly,” said Amity. “It’s your future in the Boiling Isles. I think you should go.”

“Me too,” chimed Eda from the other room, where she’d semi wandered, probably to get away from what she’d affectionately labelled the ‘teenage lovebird mush.’

“But…” Luz paused, before letting out a supremely defeated sigh. “Okay. Want to walk together?”

Amity perked up, a smile spreading across her face. “I’d love to,” she said, squeezing Luz’s hand again. “It’s been ages since we’ve walked to school together.”

“Cool,” said Luz. “Then… I should probably get ready, right? We have to leave soon?”

“We can be late,” Amity responded. “Take your time.”

Luz frowned. “What happened to little miss perfect student? Don’t you want your badge back?”

Amity shrugged. “It used to poke my shoulder. Whoever has it now can keep it.”

“Okay,” Luz said, standing. “I guess I’m getting ready for school. Again.”

She made her way to the stairs, but Eda’s call of “Kid!” made her turn back.

“Yeah?” She asked. Maybe Eda wanted to give a motivational speech? She wasn’t very good at those, but had a tendency to spout them whenever she felt the situation called for it.

“You got this, alright?” Eda said. “If he doesn’t let you back in, I’ll kick his butt. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Luz grinned, unable to stop herself. “Okay,” she said. “Put your hardest shoes on to do it?”

“Oh, you bet,” Eda winked, and Luz turned to head up the stairs. At the top, King was just emerging from Eda’s room, rubbing one dazed hand over his eyes.

“Mornin’, Luz,” he said, still groggily. “Are we all having breakfast yet?”

“Not today, King,” Luz responded. “I’ve gotta get ready for school. Start without me?”

King hummed in agreement as Luz darted into her own room, coming further down the hallway, before he slowed to a gradual stop.

“School?” He asked. “I thought you were suspended.”

“Bump called, said I had to come in to ‘discuss it’,” said Luz, using fake quotation marks as she searched the room. “Where the hell did I leave my school uniform?”

At once, it came to her – Amity was wearing her school uniform, because Amity’s parents had broken in and taken all of Amity’s things, including her uniform. And, since Luz had no need for hers at the time, she’d offered it to Amity. Selfless and heroic at the time, but now it put her in a difficult spot.

“sh*t,” she said,

* * *

In the end, without her school uniform, ‘getting ready’ equated to scrubbing her face with water, brushing her hair, and re-brushing her teeth twice, until she was sure there was no food in her mouth, and her teeth sparkled (not that she was going to be doing much smiling, she was sure.) Her and Amity had been able to leave on time, collecting slices of toast to eat on the way by means of breakfast, and the familiarity she’d thought she would e=never get back felt nice.

Except for the fact that they were now set to be perfectly on time, meaning she’d be seeing Principal Bump much faster than she’d originally anticipated – and in her day-old top and comfy shoes.

Amity had finished her slice of toast quickly, used to the monotony of walking to school alone, and Luz had handed her own slice over, too nervous to eat. “What if he expels me?” She asked, even though she had asked before, and there were no more answers to give. “I can’t be actually, legally out of school. My mom would kill me.”

“Your mom already knows about the suspension,” Amity supplied through a mouthful of PB&J. “And she was okay with that, once we explained. We can explain again, if it happens – which it won’t.”

“But what if – urgh,” Luz groaned. The conversation was just going in circles, at her insistence, as her head kept snagging on the same thoughts. “What if nothing. Whatever happens, happens. I’m still a badass witch.”

“Yeah!” Amity grinned. “You taught yourself those glyphs – what do you even need from school?”

At this, Luz frowned. Amity was right, in her own way; she had only meant to comfort Luz. But Luz, as nerdy as it sounded, genuinely enjoyed school – she couldn’t imagine a life in the Boiling Isles without it, or at least the hope of going back to it, which had been sustaining her since the suspension.

“Sorry,” said Amity, “my bad. I didn’t mean that. I just meant… whatever happens, you’ll be fine.”

“You’re right,” Luz acquiesced, because Amity always was. In times like this, she was able to keep the level head that Luz always desired but never had for herself – Luz just needed to suck it up and see what happened. There was no use being anxious over things she couldn’t control.

As they walked up to Hexside, Luz found herself settling right back into the feeling of familiarity. Students mulled around, some fiddling with grudgby balls, many just talking, on and around the steps. There was constant movement in and out of the building, as students and teachers alike arrived and socialised, waiting for the day to officially begin.

“I have to go to my locker,” Amity said, and Luz felt a jolt of panic at the idea of being separated. “Wanna come?”

“I’d love to,” Luz sighed in relief, and followed Amity up the steps.

As she walked, gazes turned to fix themselves onto her, and normal conversations switched to whispers. Luz looked around, meeting the gazes of the people that were staring back.

“Is it just me,” she mumbled to Amity when they reached her locker, “or are people talking about me?”

Amity deposited a textbook in her locker, before giving it an affectionate scratch between the eyes. “They probably are,” she said. “The rumour mill has been running rampant ever since you got expelled.”

“What?” Luz exclaimed, and more eyes swivelled towards the pair. She grinned sheepishly, before turning back to Amity.

“What?” She repeated, this time in a more hushed tone.

“We tried to stop it at first – me, Willow and Gus,” Amity began. “But the more we tried, the worse it got. I think the current rumour is you tried to set a teacher on fire because he rejected your youthful confession of love?”

Luz winced at the mental image, but Amity just shrugged. “I think it’s pretty badass,” she said, shutting her locker. “Anyway,” she started. “I think this is where I leave you.”

As if on cue, the bell screeched through the halls, and suddenly they were surrounded by students speed-walking to their first classes. “You remember where Bump’s office is?” Amity asked.

Luz nodded. How could she have forgotten, after her last encounter in there?

“Good. You’re gonna be okay?”

Luz nodded again, but this one must’ve been less convincing, because Amity reached out and engulfed Luz in a tight hug. The corner of the notepad Amity was holding dug into Luz’s back a little, but she returned the hug full force, as if she could physically absorb comfort from physical touch with Amity.

Eventually, the hallways began to thin out, and Amity pulled away. “You’ll be fine,” she said with such certainty that Luz wanted to believe it herself. “I’ll grab Willow and Gus, and we’ll come by after first period, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Luz said, voice shaky.

Amity tutted, and pulled Luz into another quick squeeze. “You got this,” she said. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

And then she was walking away, and all Luz could do was wave at her receding figure.

Alright. Bump’s office. For better or for worse, she was going to go in and face this.

It was time to face the music.