Page 41 of Rewitched

The two witches held each other’s gaze for a long, unspoken moment.

“I want this to be entirely your decision, Belle, let it be known. But I know what you are capable of being and capable of becoming.” Bronwyn continued earnestly, “Your magic is meant for you, if only you’d claim it.”

Belle buried her head in her hands, elbows on her thighs as she tried to pull focus. Bronwyn chuckled sympathetically.

“Decisions, decisions. I was vehemently against the idea at first, Belle, I was. But I confess, after our talk, that I do wonder…Artorius is powerless now. He holds no magic that can be used to hurt or harm you, without the coven being aware of it before it even happens.”

Belle looked at her, taken aback by the change in stance.

“And still, as a descendent of Day, one of the oldest magic families in library record, he and his brother were known by the coven to be naturally gifted warlocks, even as teenagers pre-endarkenment. He would be an adept mentor, with the restricted powers that we would return to him for the occasion.”

Belle sighed. “I should have stayed at home, where literally nothing ever happens.”

Bronwyn chuckled again. “I’ll give you a moment to gather your thoughts.” She stepped out of her office, leaving Belle alone in front of the fire.

Belle closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath. What else could be done to save her magic? This was her last chance.

Her hair was suddenly unbearable, falling in her face. She hastily pulled it back with the bobble on her wrist so she could think straight.

“Ouch!”

She started. As she gathered a ponytail, her forearm had brushed against the brooch that she’d been wearing as a kind of talisman since the trial. She snatched her hand back, recoiling in surprise. The sooth stone had turned blisteringly hot, and the pale smoke inside the glassy pebble was moving. She seized the fabric of her blouse for a closer look. The misty smoke twisted like a drop of dark ink in water, a languid swirl. It was brightening, awakening. Careful to touch only the shell casing, she hastily removed the pin, held it cautiously in her palm. Watching the blooms of smoke serpentine together behind the glass, Belle felt a hypnotising, all-consuming feeling.

Ignoring all logic, following the instinct of something else entirely, she clutched her fist firmly and fearlessly around the whole brooch. This time, rather than scalding her skin, the warmth travelled instantly through her, filling her whole body from head to toe. It was the most powerful, emboldening feeling. The same sensation as performing a spell but on an even greater, visceral scale. The essence of magic itself seemed to travel through her from the stone.

I’m here. It seemed to speak. No noise, no voice, but she heard it again, just as she had yesterday. I’m here. Keep going. Make the right choice for yourself.

There was no question in Belle’s mind that it was a sign. The same as the moment during her EquiWitch trial when she had been at her lowest. A nudge, a nod, a glow. Just when she needed it most.

14

The Watchman

“YOU’RE ALL SET. Let me know what you think of the ending next time you pop in, Mrs. Rollings. It’s a good one, I think you’ll love it.”

Belle gave the till a hard shove with both hands, the cash drawer jarring awkwardly against the frame like it always did. After years of offering advice for what to read next and unfailingly ringing up books as a result, she’d mastered the tricky knack of making it shut properly. Slightly to the left, push until it feels extremely broken.

The doorbell tinkled as the last customer of the day headed out the door of Lunar Books. The humming rush of the high street flooded in and faded out. Finally. The day preceding her first night of mentorship had dragged in the sleepy shop. Even on regular days, the quieter times made it feel as though time stood still between those shelves, like the shop’s own nexus pendulum hidden somewhere in the fiction department.

She seized her chance to start the familiar closing routine. Scooping up discarded copies of this week’s Stellar Read strewn across the wrong tables, Belle locked the front door, giving it a secure shake for good measure. She flipped the sign from Open to Closed, and dimmed down the lights. A quick flick of sparks tidied up the chaotic children’s corner. Her final job was manually inputting the sales into a calculator and jotting down the numbers into a lined notepad. Lunar Books was yet to arrive into the modern age, and Violet had no plans to make the journey anytime soon. She insisted it was part of the charm.

Belle’s head swam slightly, the tips of her fingers pricking a little, dizziness washing over her. Probably a headache brewing at the thought of what was to come later in the evening. Clipping back her hair to concentrate, she hunched over the counter and scribbled down the sums under the light of the stained-glass lamps. A quick flick of her finger had the pencil-written numbers dancing across the page, arranging themselves into the correct order while she totalled the day’s cash. The soft tinkle of the front doorbell rang out against the silence of the shop.

“Sorry, we’re closed. Back tomorrow at ten.”

Her concentration snapped like an elastic band. Didn’t she just lock that? She did, she definitely locked it. Her head shot up. Someone was waiting inside. Barely lit but leaning tall and calm against the door-frame, one hand stretched up to tinkle the bell above the door and the other plunged into a coat pocket. Her hand instinctively reached for the keys on the counter to arm herself with something more quickly than debating a spell.

“I was hoping for after-hours service.”

She squinted more closely at the customer. Was it? His face lit up with a smirk as he stepped out of the shadows. “Rune.”

“I’m looking for something that I won’t be able to put down. Something that’ll keep me awake at night. A plot that’ll drive me crazy.”

Slamming her pencil down and clutching her chest, Belle groaned with relief and frustration. He smirked at her reaction. “With absolutely no due respect, what the hell are you doing?”

“Just browsing,” Rune said innocently, thumbing titles on the front table.

“That was the single most creepy entrance that anyone has ever made. What is wrong with you?”