Page 26 of Uncharmed

‘On second thoughts, maybe I’d better . . .’ Annie tried again to encourage Maeve’s arm down a fraction. She felt her heart quicken when she spotted a crackle of magic snap between Maeve’s fingers. ‘Let’s take a moment to—’

‘I can do it!’ Maeve said stubbornly and a little louder. The squeezing, fiery feelings prickled at the back of Annie’s neck, sent a panicky feeling up into her throat.

‘It’s my fault. I’m getting carried away with myself,’ Annie rushed to say, keen to placate the rising temper. ‘You’re not ready just yet and that’s fine.’

‘Of course I’m ready! That’s literally why we’re here!’

Now it was fury, a deep sense of injustice, yelling furiously at Annie from inside Maeve – emotions that felt dark and dangerous and unpredictable. Annie kept desperately trying to calm the girl’s rising emotions. ‘Let’s go back to some much more basic theory, Maeve. If you’ll take out your notebook instead—’

‘Just let me have a go, will you? You’re not listening to me! You’re not trusting me!’

‘Let me give you another example to—’

‘Puella Magic Eater!’ Maeve shouted.

The pumpkin exploded. Slushy, bright orange guts flew in every direction, splattering the entire cottage in an alarming volume of wet mush that smelt distinctly and horribly of very, very burned pumpkin. Karma, who had been peacefully snoozing on the couch, let out a furious yowl as a splat of pumpkin landed directly on her tiny soft head. Both witches froze. A few moments passed before Annie finally moved to wipe a few inches of pumpkin from the ends of her hair.

‘Puella Magic Eater? Are you serious?’ Annie said in a dangerously calm voice.

Maeve used her forefingers to clear her glasses like windscreen wipers. ‘Well, it was worth a try. You weren’t giving me a chance.’

‘You’re not taking this seriously enough, Maeve.’

‘Me? You made a princess carriage from a pumpkin. I want to do real magic!’ Maeve jumped to her feet to measure up face to face with Annie. The pair of witches glared at each other, covered in soggy pumpkin guts.

‘All magic is real magic, Maeve. Especially the fun and joyful kind. You don’t have anything to prove here,’ Annie said as she shoved her hands onto her hips. ‘I already know you’re talented. But power without control leads to chaos,’ she said with a sigh, flicking away more mush from her fingers.

‘I’m not a kid. I don’t need you controlling me or my magic,’ Maeve bit back. ‘And I definitely do not need a nanny.’

‘Oh, I can see that. But your magic might need one. You seem highly capable and very clever, but your magic can’t go around sending flames every which way towards curtains and canteens whenever your emotions catch fire.’

‘Those were accidents,’ Maeve said angrily.

‘Exactly. I think the coven would be less concerned if you had meant to do it, if you were committing purposeful arson. Then we could just punish you for it and that would be that. How do you expect me to trust you if you keep being so reckless and messy with your magic?’ Annie hoped that the question would be enough for Maeve to reluctantly admit that she was right. Instead, her words seemed to stoke more fire.

‘And how do you expect me to respect you if you keep being such a ridiculous, people-pleasing pushover?’

Annie tried her very best not to burst into tears at that. Maeve glared at her, fists balled at her sides, knuckles coated in a crackle of magic. And yet Annie noticed the slightest twitch in her resolve, as though she had surprised herself by blurting out the words and was forcing herself to stick to her guns. But the brief flash was gone in a moment.

‘I can’t believe I’m stuck with you,’ Maeve fumed. A slop of pumpkin fell from her shoulder to the floor with a wet splat, which sounded horribly loud in the silence that hung between them. ‘Leave me alone.’

With that, the girl stormed into her room and slammed the door behind her, leaving Annie frazzled and defeated, dripping in pumpkin and wondering what on earth had just happened.

Chapter Eleven

PICTURE PERFECT

Annie had come to the fundamental conclusion at around three o’clock in the morning that she was simply a terrible person. After little to no sleep, tossing and turning on the pokey single bedframe upstairs, she threw aside the duvet with defeat. As always, the regrets of the Splendidus Infernum spirits haunted her dreams and waking moments alike, but now they were combined with her own cruel uncertainty. Without her usual routine to follow like a tightrope, she felt untethered and the reality of her and Maeve’s situation kept bursting her bubble of optimism with a sharp pin.

Naturally, she had agonized all night over everything she had said to Maeve, her own regrets combined with those of her ghost companions. All of this was so messy and unconsidered, not at all like her. But the fact was this was about the girl’s happiness and the girl’s future and making her feel comfortable during their time together, so that she could come to understand her sacred powers.

‘I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday,’ Annie said as she took a seat at the other end of the sofa from Maeve, who so far had sulkily accepted a single cup of coffee without a word and pointedly ignored that morning’s peace offering pancake buffet – although Annie caught her glimpsing back at them several times. ‘And the day before.’

Maeve, of course, just shrugged and stared determinedly at Karma, who was selflessly keeping her feet warm in a sleepy bundle. Annie barrelled on determinedly. ‘You were mature enough to tell me I was doing something wrong, to communicate that, and I ignored it. I’m very sorry for the way I reacted. It was the wrong approach. I should have understood that you’re just keen to get stuck in. Magic is so exciting and you deserve to explore it in your own way.’

A quiet passed between them while Annie debated with herself what might be the next right thing to say. She was surprised when it was Maeve who relented and broke the silence first.

‘I meant it, you know. I don’t need a nanny,’ she said.