Page 94 of Rewitched

Belle flung her arms around her grandmother and felt herself held by her for the first time in so many years. The warmth, the texture of her hair against her face, the scent, the softness of her clothes. It was all the same. Just as it had been her whole life.

“I miss you. I miss you so much.” She spoke as best she could, but her voice failed her. It was overwhelming, the raw combination of grief and gorgeous, intoxicating nostalgia holding her in loving arms.

“Oh, I miss you, too, Belle. I miss you and your mum. But I’m here, I’m always here.”

“Are you okay?”

“What a funny question,” Alvina chuckled. “Of course I’m okay. It’s peaceful. Not so different but happier. And not far away. Like when you used to be playing in the garden while I watched from the kitchen window. Now I watch while you’re busy building a little life for yourself, making wonderful things happen.”

Something told Belle that she didn’t need to know any more than that about what came next. The idea was comfort enough.

“Darling, we haven’t much time. A spell like this, it won’t hold for long, even on Halloween. But I’m so proud of you, Belle. Look at you, grabbing onto your magic with both hands.”

Belle laughed through tears, grasping onto her grandmother’s hands, feeling them soft in her own palms again. The knuckles, the ridges and the painted nails, the simple wedding band.

“I saw everything,” Belle said. “I’m with your brother, Artorius, and we saw it all. We used the scrying mirror, and we saw what she did to you. What Morena did. And what Bronwyn did to Savaric.”

“I know, love. I’ve been waiting for you to meet me at this moment. I was trying to guide you towards the truth, but there were so many steps to get here, towards the answers that you needed, and I’m so proud of you for finding them.”

“Why did she do it? Why did Morena curse you and Arty like that?”

“It’s complicated, darling.” Alvina shook her head with soft pity. “Families always are. They say blood runs thicker than water, but magic runs thicker than blood. Morena always had a deep loyalty to Bronwyn. They were always closer than the rest of us.”

“So she chose her over all of the rest of you? Even after what Bronwyn did to Savaric?”

“I think she always saw something in Bronwyn, could tell that her magic was perhaps the most potent of all of us. Oh, don’t look at me like that, love. You know yourself that Bron is a force to be reckoned with. She always was. Even as a little girl. We all knew from the moment she arrived that she would grow up to have an extraordinary wealth of magic at her fingertips, and Morena knew it better than anybody. They shared a great deal of secrets while they grew up. Morena was more a guardian to Bron than our parents were, a protective-older-sister loyalty that’s hard to understand. I often felt a little left out, truth be told.” Alvina chuckled under a sigh. “Before she knew it, that fierce loyalty Morena always felt for the youngest of us had spiralled, grown into something that had her trapped in lies, too deeply involved with Bronwyn’s mistakes to ever turn her back on her.”

“What happened to them, between the day that they ran away and their rise to Selcouth? How did they manage it?”

Alvina sighed, shaking her head. “It’s a story I’ve never quite known the full version of. I’m not sure anybody does, except for Morena and Bronwyn. As you saw in the mirror, both girls turned to complex, dark magic to cover their tracks. But I have since learned through whispers on the other side that their lies snowballed to a size greater than they ever expected. Morena spoke truths into the earth itself to shape what the coven knew about our family—a most manipulative spellwork that is highly forbidden. As a result, Selcouth lost the truth of the five Day siblings in its history, and they could flee as forgotten sisters. I was left on my own to begin everything again. They only existed in my mind as uncertain gaps that I couldn’t fit together. But I met your grandfather, and I put my questions behind me.”

“I’m so sorry, Nan. I wish I’d known everything you went through. I wish we’d talked about it.”

“Even I didn’t know, Belle! It wasn’t until I passed over that the hexes Morena created were cleared and I could see what had truly happened. None of it really mattered then, anyway. And besides, I had a good life in the end. The very best. I made happiness for myself.”

Alvina cradled the side of Belle’s face.

“What am I going to do, Nan? How do I handle all of this?”

“That’s up to you, love. All I want is for you to be happy and safe. I’ve seen everything that’s happened recently.”

“Can’t you just tell me exactly what to do?” Belle asked pathetically. “You must have some kind of all-knowing, all-seeing wisdom that you can dish out.”

“Of course. All you have to do, the precise instruction you have to follow…is trust your instincts.” Alvina winked.

Belle rolled her eyes and laughed. “That’s not helpful at all, Nan. My instincts feel as though they’re made of crushed-up cornflakes after the past month. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“What I can tell you is that there are more secrets to Hecate House, Belle. What you saw in the mirror, it’s not the end of this. In fact, it may only be the beginning.”

Belle groaned. “I was afraid you’d say that.” She suddenly remembered the confession that she had to make. “And I lost my stone, Nan. Or it was taken. My summoning spells can’t find it.”

Alvina gave her a soft smile. “Not to worry. Precious lost things will always turn up when we need them to.” She paused for a moment and held Belle’s face in her hand, stroking her thumb across her cheek. “Whatever you decide to do will be the right decision.”

“If I’d just used my magic properly from the beginning, if I hadn’t let it slip away from me, this whole thing would be—”

“Probably exactly the same,” Alvina interrupted, chuckling. “Fate can’t be twisted and turned as you like, Belle. What’s meant for you is meant. No matter which turn you take or hurdle you stumble at, you’ll always end up on the path that’s meant for you. Love, let the dust settle on choices that you’ve made or that you didn’t make. Leave all those different lives behind and make peace that this is the right one. Tell yourself, this is how my story is supposed to go, but I am the one who can write it as it’s supposed to be.”

Belle rested her head on her grandmother’s iridescent shoulder, savouring the peace of being beside her again.