Page 78 of Rewitched

Belle bit down on her lip to stop a grin. “Thanks for standing up for me.”

“Anytime.” Rune mirrored her smile. “She blames herself, I think.”

“She just wanted the best for me. She couldn’t have known whatever this is was waiting in the wings.”

“Well, that’s just it. The coven should know. The fact that Bronwyn and Morena are just as in the dark as we are is the most concerning part to me.”

Belle glanced at him, unable to keep hold of the question. “What exactly do you think I’m up against?”

He sighed. “I’m looking into the possibility that it’s an unknown. When things like this have happened in the past—it’s rare, but it’s happened—it’s been a witch who hasn’t disclosed themselves, looking to make themselves known. Living alone with magic, and without the support of Selcouth, must be overwhelming and terrifying at times. Makes people do strange things.”

“How do we find them?”

“It’s a big task,” he admitted reluctantly. “But it’s my main priority, my only priority. I’ve been working on tracing the source. It’s how we trace the emergence of new witches who don’t come through a family tree. There are systems at headquarters which allow for this kind of thing, but so far, I can’t seem to make the spells extend their focus farther than Hecate House.”

“I hope they’re paying you handsomely for all this extra research to make sure I’m not hexed into oblivion. Unless oblivion happens to be all-inclusive? I could use a holiday.” She smiled. “I’m sure you have plenty more important things to do.”

He laughed under his breath, a look of sincerity falling across his face. “Belle, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. There is nothing more important to me than you.”

She felt her cheeks flush and saw his do the same.

“For the remaining moons, I mean. While I’m on duty for you.”

Her heart started beating again. “Right.”

“It’s my top priority to get you safely through this mentorship,” he went on, nudging her foot softly with his own. “But there’s still something we need to discuss in more detail. Artorius. You need to ask him about his past. Confront him.”

Belle instantly prickled. “Confront him about what, exactly?”

“About all of this. Yes, as far as I can tell, there’s no dark magic being created at his home, so I have to give him that. But evidently, it’s drawn there. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Even if it does turn out to be him, which it won’t”—she interjected with a pointed finger—“what are you expecting from a conversation like that? ‘Oh, silly me. You’re right! I was trying to kill you! Caught in the act.’ ”

“I’m not expecting a confession, but it might make him stumble. It’s arduous, knotty magic. We should be doing whatever we can to impede his…their efforts.”

Belle sighed. “If I lose out on his apple crumble as a result, you owe me.”

ARTORIUS SPUN ON the spot and began rummaging through a packed set of drawers, lively contents bursting out the moment he opened them. “Now, where the cursed cat whiskers did I…” A silk scarf flew in one direction, a broken badminton racket went careering in the other. “Bingo!”

With a quick gesture of his palm, the old man tossed a pinch of deep purple powder into the sooty grate to prepare their Clairvoyancy lesson: the basics of flickering magic, pyromancy and candle reading.

Belle felt her stomach knot with dread. It had to be done. She steeled herself for her next words, grasping her own fists with white knuckles. “I need to ask you something, Arty.”

It felt surreal, knowing she was about to confront it all. Artorius took a seat in the usual tattered armchair and cast out his palm, bringing forth an old wooden crate for her, which was stacked up in the cobwebbed corner. With another small flourish, he produced a cushion to place on top. The old man looked at her with expectant eyebrows, gesturing for her to take a seat.

“By all means, Belle. Questions lead to the most fascinating lessons.”

Now that she’d started, she didn’t even know what she wanted to ask. What was the next part of this conversation? “Firstly, I am so grateful that you have given me this opportunity. That you’ve opened your home up to me this way. But I have some questions about, well…about your past. The things that I was told by Selcouth about you.”

Instantly, Artorius’s face dropped. “Oh. Yes. Of course you do.” He sighed deeply, removing his pink hat for the moment. Between his gnarled fingers, he began twisting the fabric, pulling at a loose thread. “And I shall explain everything, answer every question you may have. I regret bitterly that you have probably been fretting for so long now. We should have addressed this immediately, but I have shied away from it, too. I apologise for not being bold enough to confront the subject myself. Sleep has evaded me often this past month for regret that I had invited someone into my home without explaining myself.”

Artorius looked even frailer and smaller than usual. His shoulders curled over like the edges of worn paper. He folded in on himself before finding Belle’s gaze with a determined expression. “I am sure the coven spoke to you of why I have been banished from their world for so very long now.”

“Yes, they did. Bronwyn insisted that I know the full history behind your banishment.”

Artorius nodded. “She was right to do so. Without question. Knowledge is protection.”

He turned his head with haste but wasn’t quick enough to hide the tears that were gathering in his eyes. With laboured difficulty, he rose from the armchair and shuffled towards the round window, clearing the condensation with his jacket sleeve.