Page 60 of Rewitched

“Belle, are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. But where’s my mum? Where’s Bonnie?” she asked hurriedly.

He spluttered over his words, trying and failing to make sense of what they’d witnessed. “I can’t say for sure, I wish I could. It’s almost as though—”

“Did my spell unravel? Where is she?”

“But it’s impossible. It would be against every…” Artorius was muttering to himself, calculating possibilities only he could see.

“How do I get her back? Where is she, Arty?” Belle asked again, more desperate by the second as she wrung her hands.

Artorius turned clouded eyes to Belle. “Subfuror Incantare.”

“I don’t need Latin definitions, Artorius. I need to find my mother.”

“Of course, of course, Belle. Help me up, will you?”

The pair staggered to their feet together. Belle took a deep breath to steady herself and encouraged Artorius to do the same. The old man looked confused, dazed. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, which seemed to help.

“Subfuror Incantare…it is a rare phenomenon, rare indeed,” he began. “And for good reason. It goes against every law that exists within the magic system. With Subfuror Incantare at play, all balance is lost, all fairness gone. Power gains more power…” he rambled, tracing his own steps in circles as his thoughts tumbled out.

“Artorius, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Belle rubbed her face.

“It is the art—‘art’ is the wrong word for something so unconscionable—the act of overthrowing another witch’s powers for one’s own means, snatching a spell from them without their knowledge or consent. A manipulation of magic.”

Belle blinked, desperately trying to understand. “My spell? Someone warped it?”

“I suspect that, under Subfuror Incantare, someone was manipulating your spellwork. Someone was trying to overpower it, take over the intention behind it and make it their own.”

“But what would anyone want with my magic? I’m pretty sure I’ve proved that it’s not particularly worth having.”

“On the contrary, young lady. Magic in every form is envied by those who don’t consider themselves to have enough. You may think you are nothing special, but everything I have witnessed so far suggests otherwise. And it would seem that somebody else is aware of that, too. Somebody wants to take your magic from you.”

“They can do that? Just…take it?”

“Unfortunately, it is indeed possible. It’s not until the EquiWitch trial is completed that your magic falls fully under the coven’s protection. Until then, it is vulnerable.”

“Even if that’s true, the Subfu…whatever. What’s it got to do with my mum?”

“Belle, we both know your mother is a brilliant witch. Perhaps fearing the two of you practicing together, the potential of what that could create if nurtured properly? Whatever the reason, they did not want Bonnie here with you.”

“We have to find her.”

Artorius looked racked with guilt. “I am dreadfully sorry to say there is nothing we can do at present. A witch entangled in Subfuror Incantare can only resist the control by summoning her own abilities, her own presence of mind to fight against it. It’s down to your mother to escape this by herself.”

Registering Belle’s newly horrified expression, Artorius continued hurriedly. “But we both know there is no witch more capable than your mother, Belle,” he said with emphasis. “She is renowned for the prowess of her powers. Her magic rivals that of the Gowden sisters. She is the very best of wicchefolk.”

“But…I can’t just sit here and wait to see what happens! I have to help her.”

“Belle, as your mentor, I must insist that is exactly what you do. If you value your magic or, more importantly, your mother’s well-being. We have no idea how your own magic could be used against you or her at this moment. I implore you, it is not safe.”

Belle stood aghast.

“Your mother would prioritise your safety above all else.”

She raked her fingers across her scalp. Doing nothing went against every instinct. But the logical side of her brain said that Artorius had never yet steered her wrong. She reached for the one other thing she knew might guide her.

The sooth stone was aglow, fiercely golden and brilliant. In all her other recent times of need and doubt, the stone had come to life. Not only reassuring her but, as she knew now, protecting her. She found that it was clearing her mind, quieting it, providing answers to decisions that she didn’t fully trust herself to make. The sight of its radiance was pacifying, calm amidst the chaos.