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times during the night. She hated milking the cow, which was stubborn and cross, and smelled bad. It had been days since she’d gotten more than a distant glimpse at Nat, which meant that it felt like years since she’d had any reason to be happy. Her temper got the better of her self-control, and she snapped, “I think the First Laws are stupid and ridiculous, if all they do is keep people who love each other apart!”
    Pru’s eyes went wide. To deny the justice of the First Laws—it wasn’t done. But Elizabeth knew that wasn’t the part that had shocked her friend.
    â€œIs Nat Porter in love with you?” Pru said, sounding incredulous. “Really and truly?”
    No. Elizabeth knew he wasn’t. “Maybe my words were too strong. But he’s—he’s taken with me, Pru. It’s not like it was a few months ago. He sees me now.”
    â€œWhat does that matter?” Now Pru hopped off the fence to come closer. “First of all, it wasn’t that long ago that Nat was thinking of marrying another girl. It’s not as though she spurned his affections. She’s sick, is all.”
    â€œIf he forgot her so quickly, then it wasn’t really love, was it?” Elizabeth demanded. She tried very hard not to remember that Nat’s only distractions from that other girl were the ones Elizabeth herself had caused. Soon she’d have the spells she needed; soon the love Nat would feel for her would eclipse anything he’d ever felt for Rebecca Hornby.
    Pru hesitated at that. “Well. Maybe not. I wouldn’t know. But that’s beside the point. You can’t marry Nat. It’s impossible.”
    â€œImpossible! Impossible! I hate that word.” Elizabeth had so rarely spoken her mind before. It turned out to feel glorious, like flying. “We’re witches! We melt ice in January and make it in July. We pull crops from barren fields. We bring the sick back from the brink of death. We take fire, wind, water, and spirit and turn them into our tools. Our playthings. So why do we spend so much time talking about what’s impossible? Nothing’s impossible, Pru, except that our rules make it so. I’m tired of those rules. Why aren’t you?”
    For a few long moments Pru didn’t speak, and when she did, her voice was low and controlled, the way someone might talk to a horse that had been spooked. “You’re upset. You’re not thinking clearly.”
    â€œI’m upset,” Elizabeth agreed, “but I’m thinking very clearly. I’ve never seen things so clearly in my life.”
    â€œYou can’t break one of the First Laws, Elizabeth. You can’t. You know that.”
    â€œOr what? Widow Porter will scold me as though I were a bad little girl, take away my charms? Near as I can see, she can only do that if I let her, and I wouldn’t.”
    Pru stumbled backward until she collided with the fence; her hands gripped it, and it seemed as if she were bracing herself against Elizabeth’s words. How shocking it must be to hear the truth, Elizabeth thought. But if Pru thinks about it, really thinks, she’ll see that I’m right.
    â€œElizabeth—please, please think about what you’re saying.” Pru’s lower lip trembled. “If you go against Widow Porter, you go against the coven. You’d be cast out. Friendless.”
    â€œWhy? Would you turn your back on me, too?”
    Instead of answering that question, Pru went on. “Are you thinking that Nat would run away with you? He’d never leave his mother alone with no one to look out for her. He’d never want to leave his friends. His plan was always to bring Rebecca Hornby back here, remember?”
    With a shrug, Elizabeth began tucking her escaped curls back into her cap. “Well, now he’s not thinking of her any longer. He’s thinking of me. So everything can change.”
    â€œNot the