to remember the stories of how it used to be in Edinmyre. Remember, Emma, it’s all about control, and how much power the Circle desires to exert over the fae.”
Babcia began to dig in her apron. From her pocket she procured a few herbs. “You’ve been sick often this semester, Emma. I will teach you how to make an Unseelie tea. It’s not a healing spell— we don’t have those in our culture, only potions that might help us heal faster. But this will harness the defenses of plants to protect you against other illnesses.”
Babcia gestured for me to follow her to the kitchen. I filled a teapot with water, then set it on the stove to boil. Babcia began cutting the herbs on a board. I helped her slice them, noticing the special ingredients; rose, vervain, chamomile, and faeweed.
“Something that isn’t taught anymore is that food and drink preparation is very important to a fae,” Babcia said. “Cooking is a spiritual act as much as a physical one. Whatever emotions you put into your food— sadness, resentment, anger— show up and are digested into your body when you transfer them unintentionally into your meals.”
“Wow, really?” My eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yes. And it’s the same with happy emotions as well. When you cook, you want to have a clear mind, even if you’re preparing a simple tea.” Babcia transferred a few ingredients to a mortar, and began mashing them with a pestle. “When you prepare a meal or a drink, it is no different than casting a spell. Keep focused, and your mind calm. Relax. As you brew the tea, meditate on the idea of health, taking energy from the herbs that are inside the contents we prepared.”
Babcia dumped the ingredients into a cup, then poured hot water over the tea. She told me to watch the tea, focusing my illusion magic on provoking wellness within the tea’s contents. I stared at the water, feeling my eyes go cross-eyed as I did my best to infuse the tea with every healthy thought I could imagine.
After the tea had cooled, I took a drink. The effects were instantaneous. My shoulders, which were sore from practice yesterday, instantly relaxed, and the upset stomach I’d had since last week ebbed away. Babcia smiled as she saw the relief brim on my face.
“It works,” I marveled. “All because I changed my intent?”
“Precisely,” Babcia said. “Even the smallest of efforts in our lives are magic, Emma. We don’t need to perform great spells to do great magic. Sometimes, the littlest things can provide the best results.”
My grandmother was so wise. She still had so much to teach me. I couldn’t believe something so simple and tiny as a cup of tea could have such a big effect on my life.
But it did. Fae valued big things, like money, power and impressive magic. Yet as I was starting to learn— with Unseelie magic and otherwise— it was the most unexpected things that made all the difference.
My grandmother’s tea worked. As I made the tea each morning, I found that my immune system grew a bit stronger. It couldn’t ward off everything, but it gave me strength, and one less cold than I had to have was always a plus in my book. I found that the tea didn’t work if I made it when I was in a hurry, or already feeling pissy. It made me reframe my thoughts each time I cast a spell, or even did small things like complete my homework. If fae magic was intention, everything was a spell, and I needed to do my best to respect the magic so it worked in my favor.
Although it was hard to remain in a positive and clear mindset when the world around you was falling apart. At nine a.m. before my Illusion 102 class on Friday, I was in my dorm room working on translating the grimoire when Delmare poked her head in.
“Hey, you’d better come look at this,” she said. Her expression was grim.
My stomach dropped. “Gods, what now?”
“There are more protests. They’re starting to turn into riots,” Delmare said. “People are looting and burning buildings down and everything. That Elijah’s refusing to acknowledge what’s going on has everyone pretty pissed.”
I got up from my desk to follow her. Tygrys fluttered onto my shoulder as I walked into the Rec Room.
Multitudes of people were pressed around the TV, watching footage from last night’s protests. Flames flashed across the screen,