Imbolc & Incantations: Serendipity, #3

By Poppy Flynn

Seren Starlight isn't your average witch.

At 26 she's yet to graduate from the esteemed senior academy of witchcraft because she refuses to obey the rules.

A magnet for misadventure, things always go wrong around her.

During the sabbat of Imbolc, Seren finds herself accused of seducing the academy principal into the horizontal mamba.

But it was just a dream...wasn't it?

Turns out that's the least of her problems.

Seren by name. Dippy in nature. Serendipity through fate. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Poppy Flynn
• Release date: Oct 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223709466

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

There was something sinister stirring in the ether. A malevolent foreboding which quietly roused the shrouded mantle of the black arts and then filled every empty crevice with malignant intent.

Seren Starlight finished tying off the reeds for the Brigid’s Cross she was making to mark the celebration of Imbolc - the third observation in the wheel of the year which began with Samhain, or Halloween as mortals called it. And this last Samhain had marked the beginning of a year unlike any other. Everything around her was just a little weird and freakish - and that was saying something for a witch! - but it was one of the reasons Seren was determined to follow the traditions and rituals, the lore of Imbolc, to a tee.

Everything was going to be perfect and there would be none of the mishaps and misadventures which had afflicted the last two Sabbats. She hoped. Did crossing her fingers for luck count as a charm, she wondered absently, screwing her nose up at the chunky, rather ugly mess she was calling a Brigid’s cross. Okay, she admitted it. Arts and crafts weren’t exactly her strong suit, so maybe ‘perfect’ was a bit strong. But it was the thought that counted, right?

Anyway, Imbolc - the observance of emerging life and the awakening of the natural world - was far too important to mess with. The birth of Spring; the first sprouting of leaves on the trees, the first blossoms poking their heads through the snow and the glorious return of the sun. The successful passing of winter and the transition of the goddess from crone to maiden.

In short - The return of life.

No, Seren certainly wasn’t prepared to leave anything to chance this year. Not with the way both Samhain and Yule had gone. There was an ominous portent blowing in on the breeze and that wasn’t just irrational paranoia… others might think she was being overly cautious, but she wasn’t willing to consign anything to the vagaries of luck.

Carrot, her fox familiar, might like to sing the praises of serendipity and say it was her gift, and maybe in the wider circumstances surrounding her, he was right. But when it came to personal stuff, luck was something that was in pitifully short supply, as far as Seren, herself, was concerned.

After all, just look at the heartache the last two sabbats had brought. First there had been Maddox and Morgan at Samhain - although admittedly, in retrospect, she had liked the idea of them more than she was heartbroken at not keeping them.

For a while she had thought they might be her destiny, but when everything had been shaken up - literally - during Yule, Seren had realised that the Dewin twins had just been the epitome of everything she secretly yearned for. It wasn’t them she wanted, just what they had represented.

And yes, she’d been down for a while after their short, stolen interlude, but Siarl had stepped into the breach and she had quickly realised that whatever she had felt for the brothers had paled in comparison to the firm, authoritative presence of Principal Orias.

And therein lay the problem.

He was the chief warlock of the Ysgol Ddewiniaeth Academy, where Seren was a student. True, she was no ordinary student, since she was fast approaching her twenty-seventh birthday, and well past the age of consent. But Siarl was an old soul and believed completely in the propriety of protocol and convention. Whereas Seren was more likely to be caught breaking the rules. Yeah, there really wasn’t any future for the two of them. At least not while she was a student here, and maybe not at all.

She had suspected as much, but Yule had been traumatic and wrought with dangers, and Siarl had let himself slip - slightly. She guessed life and death situations could do that to the best of people.

But he’d been quick to set her straight.

Seren walked over to one of the tall, mullioned windows of the turret where she lived, year-round, and looked at the snow. She wondered, briefly, if it still contained the magical fallout from the critters they had liberated at Yule and her heart ached a little - okay, a lot - when she thought back to how she and Siarl had stood there, hand in hand, watching as it sprinkled all around them. Everything had seemed so perfect and positive back then. The citadel was saved, catastrophe had been averted, and Seren had decided she was in love.

And then everything had returned to normal and the heartbreak, something which seemed to be a familiar and constant part of her life, ever since the disappearance of her parents when she was ten years old, returned with a vengeance. But with a little extra added just to make sure she knew about it and couldn’t escape it.

Instead of the pristine snow sparkling in the weak sunlight, Seren saw a different scene in her mind’s eye. The one which had almost broken her for real. Truth be known, she was still feeling a little fragile.

She remembered waiting excitedly to see Siarl. She understood it was of the utmost importance for him to meet personally with the elders of the Mage Council, following the unprecedented assault by dark forces against an institution which was supposed to be invulnerable and a place which was his complete responsibility. She still missed him while he was gone, though, and knew that the severity of the attack and the implications it threw up meant his trip would not be a quick one.

She’d even only been slightly put out when he had declined her offer to accompany him and give her own input. She knew her reputation preceded her, no matter how undeserved. Still, she didn’t want any investigation to be routed off course by someone inevitably trying to lay the blame at her own feet, instead of trying to find the real culprits.

What she hadn’t imagined were the icy walls that she’d encountered upon his return.

Seren had sensed the change in his demeanour as soon as she’d seen him. She’d taken a couple of excited skips towards him, then drew to a faltering stop as she felt the waves of rebuffal positively radiating off of him. He was back to that staid and formal aloofness that had always characterised him in the past. Old before his years. Although maybe that was unfair. He was an old soul after all, having lived many lives, whereas Seren was on her first. He might present like he was only in his thirties - despite the prematurely silver hair - but in fact he was eons old. Just another part of the reality that was stacked against them.

The ‘talk’ that had come after hadn’t been completely unexpected. Seren had steeled herself against the rejection with a facial paralysis serum she had perfected years ago. After the very first time, the stuffy academics had refused to let her graduate; all because of her insistence that black magic should be studied so that it might be understood and conquered effectively. She probably used it far more than she should. A sad testament to her life that she kept a vial on hand at all times. She’d made them both some calming chamomile and mint tea and surreptitiously added the serum to her own. Sipping it quickly and feeling bolstered by its ability to freeze her facial expression into one of polite indifference. Ha! Who needed Botox injections when she could imbibe the same results? Maybe she was in the wrong business.

Nevertheless, she had needed the serum more than ever that day.

Seren had listened politely, asking a question here and there as Siarl described his meeting with the Mage Council. Then he looked at her and dropped the bombshell. Even though she’d been waiting for it, it still felt like her heart was being physically ripped out of her body. Her face might be paralysed, but she’d yet to find a remedy to stop her from feeling. Maybe that should be next on her agenda. She could make a fortune.

This thing between us, Siarl had started awkwardly, spreading his fingers like he didn’t know what to call it. It... well, he sighed and took a deep breath, and Seren supposed she should take a tiny smidgeon of comfort from the fact that the words didn’t appear to come any easier to him, either.

It can’t go any further, he finally finished, oh so quietly. He was looking away from her, his hands jammed into his pockets. Maybe he didn’t want to see the look on her face any more than she wanted to show it. Maybe he wanted to ensure his hands didn’t reach for her. That was something, she supposed. Or maybe she was just projecting.

I’ve already overstepped. I’m the principal of the Academy and you are a student here.

Seren had clenched her jaw as her face flamed. He’d only kissed her for