Page 51 of Rewitched

“All kinds of wonderful. And now that we have a protection circle in place, perhaps we…” Artorius stopped, caught off guard. Without warning, the beaming gold around Belle had suddenly faltered. Its goodness faded, a pale yellow turned silver, then to grey. Then it dissolved altogether in smoke.

“We lost concentration. Knit another spell and we’ll try that again.”

Belle closed her eyes and summoned the feeling once more, pre-empting the arrival of the gold around her. It came, but just a second later, the same thing happened. As quickly as it had appeared, the protection circle disappeared to smoke.

“Clear your mind again. You’re not thinking properly.”

“I am thinking properly.”

“Try and keep hold of the feeling. Focus on retaining the presence of protection.”

“I am focusing,” she snapped back.

The same thing happened again. And again. The circle snuffed out, leaving Belle with an unpleasant cold plunging sensation every time.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Although it is an unusual sort of nothing,” Artorius admitted. “Any witch should be able to conjure a protection incantation for herself and have it hold steadfast until she chooses to unravel her own spell. It’s almost as though…Well, I don’t wish to make a fiasco out of a fish pie, but…as though something is blocking your protection.”

“Why would something…I mean, why would I not be able to protect myself?” She was too tired to consider the idea properly but couldn’t help but feel a niggling sense of worry.

“Perhaps things are just a little off-kilter. It is no huge matter anyhow as, by a stroke of luck, your sooth stone seems to be acting in a protective capacity of its own accord, thanks to your grandmother. We shan’t trouble ourselves too much while that’s the case.”

18

Extra Warmth

NINE LONG, ONEROUS moons already sailing away, Belle closed the door of 8 Quill Lane on the night’s lesson, which had been altogether more studious than practical. It proved challenging in a different way to physical magic practice, it having been a while since her brain had been faced with any kind of academia. She was sure that her brain cell count had dwindled at rapid fire since university. The last few days of dense ancient texts on astrological patterns and their recognisable qualities all but proved it.

Days of being run off her feet to keep Lunar afloat, largely spent mopping up damage done by Christopher, were followed by nights of endless study. Writing, cross-referencing, note-taking. They pored over the many, many books in Artorius’s collection, her eager teacher adamant that astrological learning was a worthwhile focus in their Earth Sorcery studies. Belle argued that, surely, Earth Sorcery should be largely based on Earth. Artorius insisted that the branch encompassed all things that could be viewed from Earth, too, which seemed a tenuous link, but who was she to argue?

The grimoire’s challenge for Earth Sorcery unfortunately turned out to be equally, if not more so, un-illuminating than its Incantation offering. Belle had read the new allegory aloud so many times in an attempt to decipher its request that she had now committed it to memory.

Beneath the ground, a warmth of riches,

Hotter than the flames of witches.

A blaze that stills the breath to naught,

Drowning lest the mind is taught.

Fire to earth, earth to fire,

Create that which thy most admire.

Water to air, air to water,

Powers for the firstborn daughter.

“Word salad,” Belle grumpily decided.

Her mind swam with a sea of stars. They had calculated constellation calendars and pondered planetary predictions, mulled over meteoric methods and hashed out hasty horoscopes. The golden orrery played a starring role in Belle’s learning. With his palms outstretched, Artorius cast the wonderful thing in motion as he taught Belle everything he knew. With it, the old man created stars and moons from nothing, while mini constellations flew by in a palette of navy and periwinkle. They danced from one formation to the next across the darkened attic, enveloping Belle in her own night sky to learn from. Beautiful, albeit tough to commit to memory. She was getting there, though: over pie and copious amounts of velvety mashed potato that Artorius whipped up for the two of them, Belle had impressed even herself by casually pointing out through a mouthful of pie that Andromeda was in the window, foiled in gold leaf against the sky.

She’d learned more about her magic in a week than she had done in fifteen years, and her brain was aching like an overworked muscle. (Along with her back, but what else was new?) She was ready to collapse face-first into bed, dreaming of stardust.

Belle had left Artorius dozing in a chintz armchair underneath one of his hand-knitted blankets with his feet propped up on a pouffe. She wasn’t the only one who was finding the mentorship exhausting. The old man was incorrigible. No matter how long and late the hours stretched, he bubbled over with enthusiasm. He brought her mind back to focus and encouraged her concentration until both she and he were confident that she’d as good as mastered the basics. They’d faltered ever so slightly in tonight’s lesson when Artorius observed one particularly bright Venus hanging so closely to the moon’s horned tip that they almost turned one and the same within the telescope glass. He’d seemed perturbed by the unusual view, pointing out the strangeness, a combination associated with trouble ahead. Belle herself was not convinced that the sky was dedicated to dishing out personally designed warnings.

Clicking the lock of Artorius’s front door behind her, Belle headed out into the early morning, as crisp and sharp as the bite of an apple.

It was a clear sky (Alpheratz, Mirach and Almach all visible over the house, she surprised herself by noticing) but chillingly cold. She took the short cut home that she’d discovered the previous morning, a quiet alley that she’d found peaceful yesterday, but this morning held an ominous edge. The shadows of trees took on bigger shapes, throwing themselves just out of her sight-line. The corners of each turn made her a little more uneasy. It was only tiredness, she reasoned.