Page 66 of Rewitched

A creak on the floorboards upstairs snapped her out of it, like a hammer to glass. She went rigid. He evidently sensed her change in comfort, dropping his arms instantly.

“I don’t…This is weird.”

“Right.” He nodded. “Unprofessional. Sorry, I—”

“No, I’m sorry. That was really nice of you. Thank you. Sorry. I don’t know why I cried like that. I’m just really, really tired.”

“Because you’ve been through something awful.” Rune sighed, looking at her as though trying to read her. “No one should have to witness a loved one caught up in dark magic. That kind of thing…It stays with you.”

Belle glanced up at him through wet lashes.

“And will you stop apologising all the time?” he carried on. “Especially for crying. I know I’m pretty terrible, but I’m not that much of a monster.”

Belle shook herself down, brushing the traitorous tears off with her wrists.

He lifted her chin with a finger to examine her face and find her eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when your mother was in danger, Belle. I think…and I know you’re not going to like this, but just hear me out.”

She started to shake her head and brush him off, but he carried on regardless.

“You’re exhausted, let me pick up the slack. I’ll stick around a little more, swing by Quill Lane again. I’ve been operating the watchman spell at its lowest grade because you didn’t want me around, but now I need to do my job properly.”

“But—”

“C’mon, Belle, let me do this. I want…I need,” he corrected himself, “to make sure you’re safe.”

She thought for a moment, then conceded. “Okay. But no watching my spellwork during lessons, because I know you’ll laugh at me. No interfering with Artorius. Absolutely no pointing out my mistakes, because I’ll simply have to kill you. And none of—”

“Deal.” He smiled as her list of stipulations continued.

22

Fight or Flight

WITH BONNIE’S RECOVERY slowly but surely underway, Belle returned to work at Lunar sooner than planned. She had wanted more time, but the decision was mostly made in response to a carefully worded phone call from Jim, alerting her to the fact that Christopher was using her absence as the perfect excuse to ruin any and all of the shop’s remaining charm. As a result, splitting her waking hours (and some of her sleeping ones) between two separate lives, the magical and the non-magical, proved immediately taxing all over again.

Belle knew she was behaving like a hag to everyone in her vicinity, could feel people treading on eggshells around her. But over two weeks into her mentorship, she was utterly exhausted, physically and mentally. Her hair was limp and unwashed, scraped back into a ponytail every day. Her skin was pallid, spotty and dry. Having moaned about the state of her appearance to her mother, Bonnie explained that it wasn’t down merely to the lack of sleep. Draining her body of magic night in, night out would be taking its toll on every part of Belle’s system, her powers strained and overburdened, like overworked, dehydrated muscles completing marathons on empty. Rune’s revitalising potion had long since worn off, and she was too proud to ask for another batch. Her whole body felt bruised, tender to the touch. It would seem that compressing fifteen years of magical education into a few weeks was not the wisest choice a witch could make.

Ariadne had noticed, too.

“I mean this in the nicest possible way, but are you coming down with something? You look dreadful, babe.”

“What?” Belle replied irritably. The night before’s sixteenth moon had ended on a sour note with Artorius, his incessant encouragement rubbing her exhaustion the wrong way while she tried and failed to memorise omens of the tarot deck.

“Don’t snap at me. As your friend, I’m just saying you look slightly like you’ve been dug up from the grave.” Ariadne spoke with genuine concern, offering half of her banana as they put their coats on to go to work.

“I wish I had been. At least I’d get a decent sleep if I were dead.”

“Let’s do some face masks tonight. Drink some water. Maybe eat some vegetables.”

“I don’t want to do face masks,” Belle snarled. “I’m knackered. It’s taking all of my brain power to stop my eyeballs from falling out of their sockets.”

“You should take a day off.”

“I can’t take a day off. Every time I’m not at Lunar, I come back to find Christopher has thought of all new wonderful ways to ruin something. Yesterday I discovered he’s sacked the kids’ entertainer, thrown away all of the arts and crafts supplies and swapped the entire Women’s Fiction display for male CEO autobiographies,” Belle ranted.

“All right. Jeez.” Ariadne screwed up her face, looking at Belle with the expression of being stuck on a particularly difficult crossword. “I just feel like you’re shutting me out. I barely see you as it is, and when we’re both here, I can’t do anything right.”

Belle could hear herself being a terrible person, instantly regretting it, pleading with her mouth to stay shut. But she couldn’t quell the sharpness. “You can’t do anything right? My mum is still ill, and I’m worrying myself sick about her. Lunar is falling apart, and I can’t figure out how to fix it. Rune is…well, Rune is Rune. Your guess is as good as mine what’s going on there. As you just so kindly pointed out, I look a complete state and…” Belle flared with embarrassment, which only fuelled her flaming temper further. “And am I not allowed to keep some things to myself every now and again?”