Watch with Glittering Eyes

Chapter 1-1

Chapter 1

The brown paper bags full of groceries crinkled in Travis’s arms as he walked down the dirt road to home. Thoughts of the Grand Council of High Magick and a seventh summon for Reckless Use of Magick and Vigilantism and today’s trial weighed heavy on his mind. He really hadn’t been worried, even if a guilty verdict held the chance of him being arrested. It went fine, of course—it always did—but he was glad to get it over and done with, and he’d be happy just to get home where he could brew some hazelnut soup. If he didn’t get talked into making fish, anyway. Again.

Travis smiled when the chimney first peeked through the tops of the trees. The cottage was always a welcoming sight. The sight of home always made his chest fill with something warm and right. The home Travis grew up in with his late mother wasn’t located on a heavily populated or well-traveled road. It wasn’t large and didn’t boast with ostentatious arrogance, but Travis always thought it was filled with rustic charm, tucked in the backwoods of Kings County. It had always been a simple and quaint home, with its sloping straw roof and cobblestone chimney rising out of the middle of it. Made of thick clay—yellow, Mama’s favorite color—and large windows that let the sun in from dawn to dusk, it was the sort of place that felt approachable day and night. With its creaky, wooden floorboards and built-in bookshelves overflowing with books from spellbinding to conjuring to potions, it was the perfect spot for holding a magick gathering.

Which was good. As one of the county’s only witches without a Guild, Travis made a point to keep his house neat and clean and welcoming. He wanted people to feel comfortable coming to him for potions and spells and charms. Without being a part of any local Guild, Travis could set his prices lower and provide his services for those who couldn’t afford them from members of the more expensive Guilds.

Noticing that the daffodils in his garden at the start of the stone walkway were beginning to wilt, Travis waved his hand over them. Warmth rushed through his fingers as his magick ran through them and into the flowers. The blossoms slowly bloomed again as Travis’s magick unspooled from him and breathed life back into them.

A charge formed between him and the flowers now—a silky, opulent sensation that belonged to the magick of all witches. It lingered for a moment or two as their energies mixed together. As an elemental witch, most of Travis’s magick drew a strong connection to the four main elements—earth, air, fire, water—and as he continued down the stone walkway, the feeling stretched like cotton candy until it finally eased apart from him completely.

Travis’s shoes clacked on the path that led right up to the stone steps of his cottage where a small, calico cat was curled up on the top one, napping in the sun.

Stopping, Travis allowed a bit of his own magick to weave through the air, sifting through the ley lines, the currents of natural energy that crossed throughout the world. He pushed. Searched. Found his wards still very much in place so nothing too exciting could have happened around here while he’d been gone. Travis continued for the door.

After just a few more steps, the cat’s right ear twitched with Travis’s approach. Before Travis got any closer, his eyes opened. Left one first, then the right, and then those bright, striking green eyes remained alert and watched Travis as he came to the door.

“What happened?” Travis asked as he fished his ring of keys out of the deep pocket of his purple trousers. “Did you lock yourself out?”

The cat didn’t quite roll his eyes, but Travis could see the hint of that eye roll as he quickly shook his head and arched his back in a long, drawn-out stretch. He licked his lips and sat straight, tail curled around his paws. He waited for Travis to balance the grocery bags while trying to fit the iron key into the keyhole of the front door.

At first glance, the cat looked like any of the strays roaming around the ever-busy streets of Kings County. Most people that caught a glimpse of him just saw a cat. Others took a longer look and saw the lovely calico patches of orange and black on his coat. Small in size and often mistaken for being under a year old, but worth a soft pet and a dish of food. After a closer look still, even someone with talent and experience might continue to be fooled. On rare—exceedingly rare—occasions, someone would stumble upon him and see him for what he was.

A familiar. A rare, magickal creature born in between the current of magick and the mortal world. Unlike other magickal creatures, a familiar’s magick was completely pure. And a pure source of magick was hard to come by.

Travis, himself, didn’t know the damn cat was anything more than a normal cat for almost three weeks when they’d first met seven years ago. Maybe because it’d been so long now, but those curious, piercing, and watchful eyes of his were such a dead giveaway, Travis couldn’t understand how he’d ever believed this little guy was just a cat.

Not only were male calicos exceptionally rare, but the green of his eyes also wasn’t a normal green. Not even for a cat. They were the churning, passionate color the ocean turned during a storm. The green glistening through the treetops after it rained. Now, above all things, they felt like home.

Once he got the door unlocked and pushed opened, creaking at him in greeting, the cat shimmied between both his legs to get inside first. Travis almost dropped the bags in the process.

“After you, your highness,” he grunted as he shut the door behind him with his foot. “Thanks for your help.”

Inside, the cottage was cozy. Always had been. The whole thing spanned across one big room with several wooden beams and a loft bedroom. Sun poured in through all the windows; even the specks of dust that twirled merrily here and there glowed through its illumination. On the far end sat a wooden table and a row of cupboards where Travis would put away his groceries. His elemental altar was set up in front of the bay windows. Over in the big, stone fireplace hung a black cauldron. In front of it were several different sized pillows. Some satin. Some cotton. Some silk. Filled with goose down and sheep and goats’ wool.

Travis put the bags down on the table. At the same time, the cat jumped up onto it and rubbed against them. One even fell over, the contents spilling out across the tabletop. Before Travis could try to clean it up, the cat started pawing at one of the cans. He looked up at Travis, gazing right in his eyes, and knocked it off the table.

“Aw, come on, Niko.” Travis huffed as he bent over to retrieve the fallen can of billing’s root. “Was that really necessary? Are you still mad at me?”

The cat stuck his nose up before leaping off the table to walk behind the wooden pantry and came back out from behind it on two human legs. Naked and unashamed. A pair of loose-fitting, drawstring trousers with a hole cut out of the back to make room for his tail was draped over the back of the nearest chair. Niko wasn’t a shapeshifter whose clothes transformed when they did. As a familiar, Niko’s clothes shed as he phased from cat to human.

This fact never bothered him. Even in their younger years, when Travis, awkward and embarrassed, blushed and hid his eyes, Niko simply strolled around to find some clothes to cover himself with. That meant either changing into those bought and tailored specifically for him or, as they got older, just shrugging into one of Travis’s shirts which now fell just above his knees. He never felt the need to hurry, though. Niko, cat form or human form, knew he had a beautiful body and was not above strutting about to show it off.

Once he slipped into his trousers, Niko stretched his arms above his head with a yawn. Claws extended from his fingertips and then retracted again as he brought his arms back down—scratching at the cat ears atop his head along the way—and his whiskers shook a little when he wiggled his nose. Behind him, his tail flicked once and then just swayed slightly as he walked back to the table.

“How did it go?” he asked instead of answering Travis’s question. “Did you remember my biscuits?”

Reaching into the bag that Niko didn’t knock over, Travis pulled out the bag of tea biscuits he wanted. Since a little brown-nosing could work in his favor, he opened it before handing it over to Niko. Niko said nothing about Travis’s gesture and just took it, sticking his hand in the bag for a biscuit. He shoved the thing into his mouth and waited for Travis to respond to the more important of his questions. Well, maybe the more important question. Niko was a sucker for those damn treats.

Niko pulled his legs up to the table to sit on it with them folded like a pretzel. There’d always been something so sweet and endearing about him seated that way.

Even in human form, he wasn’t very big. His limbs were long, legs and arms, and curled in tight, lean muscle, but he still only came to just a little over five feet tall. The poof of hair that sat upon his head matched the pattern on his coat. Despite all that napping in the sun he did, his skin remained incredibly pale which made those thin, pink lips and green eyes—which always retained those diamond pupils—stand out more. The look suited him.

Not like Travis. Always hitting his head on the top of door frames. Big, oversized muscles. Clumsy hands and feet that tripped all over themselves. Brown eyes the color of wet bark and messy mop of hair just a shade lighter. Pale gold skin that burned in the summer. Thick-rimmed glasses and hearing aids that made him the target of many bullies when he was younger and hadn’t grown into his body yet. When he’d been weaker and unable to control his own magick.

“It was fine.” Travis sighed as he unpacked the rest of the groceries. “Just like it always is.”

“So, you won’t be arrested?”

“Nope.”

“What’d they say this time?”

“They said…” Travis needed to make some room in the cupboard for a new can of worm’s wort. He put the canis root on the counter next to the new bag of hazelnuts for his soup. “That one more cause of collateral damage without the support of a Guild and I’ll be arrested for Reckless Use of Magick and Vigilantism.” He turned back around without unpacking the rest and leaned against the counter. Folded his arms over his chest and smirked. “Just like they always do.”

Niko shoved another biscuit into his mouth. “Seven counts in two years.”

Just like Travis was reminded of during the trial. Seven summons for Reckless Use of Magick and Vigilantism because Travis was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place at the right time depending on how one looked at it. Some magick-users tried to take advantage of non-magick users and even other magick-users with different levels of talent. They bullied or threatened or outright forced people into paying for their so-called protection from others that would harm or rob them. When they were, in fact, the ones doing those very things anyway.

“And you’ve known me for seven,” Travis muttered. “Long enough to know I can’t run away when I see someone being taken advantage of. Running away feels wrong.”

Which was why he never did. Travis had never backed down or run away when he saw that—or anyone being hassled for that matter—happening. Even long before he met Niko and had trouble using his magick. When he was still an awkward, gangly thing of a boy—with little strength and a bark much bigger than his bite—Travis would rush to the aid of those in need.

That was before he had his very own familiar friend to assist him—before Niko helped him channel the magick that’d been so temperamental for him. A witch—or, any magick-user, Travis supposed—unable to control their magick never exactly had an easy life. People weren’t thrilled about seeking spells and charms from someone who couldn’t properly utilize their magick. With Niko’s help, Travis’s life improved greatly. In more ways than one. Travis couldn’t imagine life without his kitten. Even a kitten still annoyed with him for getting a seventh summons from the Grand Council.