Page 21 of A Spell for Midwinter’s Heart

An awkwardly long stretch of silence followed as the gathered power slipped back out of Rowan’s veins, leaving her with a light, buzzing head. Inches away, Hayleigh stood still, open-mouthed, saying nothing, doing nothing. Her face was blank, confused.

Rowan lurched back to the toilets just in time to vomit. Hands wrapped around the cool porcelain, she stayed there for a moment, in case anything else was waiting to come back up.

Her breathing was heavy. She’d cast A Spell to Forget.

It had come hard, and it had come fast, and she had used no guiding components.

She had not grounded, she had not drawn a circle of protection, and she had not consulted anyone on her course of action.

She had simply done it. And it hadn’t been a minor trick of the elements, it had been a major spell.

A mind-affecting spell.

Again.

Just like your grandmother.

Her body shook as she faced how reckless it had been. She’d set something into action but made only a passing attempt to control the outcome. There would be a price to pay, of that there was no doubt. It was only a matter of how much, and when the magic would come to claim it.

When she finally emerged, Hayleigh remained where she’d left her. After a quick splash of water on her face, Rowan made her way over to the other woman.

“Um, Hayleigh?” she asked, waving a hand in her face.

That seemed to snap the other woman out of her stupor. “Uh, yes?” She blinked as she scanned the room. “Where am I?”

“You’re at the Crescent Inn. In Elk Ridge. At the spa.”

“Oh, right…” Hayleigh’s eyelashes fluttered as she tried to work everything out. Then her gaze flicked back to Rowan. “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?”

Oh shit.

“Yes…but not well.”

“Well enough you know my name, though.”

“Um, yes, I guess so. Do you want me to help you back to your room?”

Hayleigh nodded absently, and Rowan gathered up the woman’s things before leading them both out.

“I’m sorry…” said Hayleigh. “I don’t seem to remember your name.”

“Oh, it’s Rowan.”

“Thanks for the help, Rowan.”

So she could tell the difference between the names Rowan and Ronan.

“Do you remember going to the spa?” Rowan asked.

“Vaguely. I remember getting a spa voucher, going downstairs, heading inside…I kind of remember being on the table, drifting in and out. Maybe going back to the locker room? But most of it is, like…” She puzzled, searching for a way to describe it. “Fuzzy.”

“Maybe you were just really, really relaxed?”

“Maybe.” Her voice was spacey.

If Hayleigh remembered going to the spa, Rowan hadn’t wantonly erased an entire day—or worse. But how then did Hayleigh not recognize Rowan?

They reached the lobby of the inn. Zaide was still sitting at the fire, sketching. She looked up as the women entered, raising an eyebrow as she glanced between them.

I’ll explain later, mouthed Rowan. She turned to Hayleigh. “Can you remember your room number?”

“Sixteen.”

The answer arrived with no hesitation—a very specific memory. Once again, it was a good sign that not too much was gone.

Clearly, it had been interpreted by the powers that be that they should erase Rowan from Hayleigh’s mind, but would that take things associated with Rowan as well? Or would those clumped memories simply be patchy and incomplete? Like worn-out stretches of film strip?

“What day do you think it is?” asked Rowan.

“December twenty-third.”

“Correct. And do you know why you’re…here?”

“I’m in town on business. And this place is the best this town has to offer…” Then she smiled secretly. “For the time being.”

Well, it was still Hayleigh in there all right—simply a Hayleigh who didn’t remember Rowan.

Door sixteen came into sight. “Well, it seems like you remember just about everything. Maybe, um, drink some water? Take a nap?”

Hayleigh slid an old-fashioned, solid-looking key into the lock. “Water, yes, good idea. No nap, though.”

“Oh? Busy day?”

Hayleigh grabbed the edge of her door and nodded with a wink. “I’ve got a date to get ready for.”

Zaide paced at the base of the staircase with her hands behind her head, elbows stretched wide, as Rowan fled down the stairs. She snagged her friend and said in a low voice, “Outside for a debrief.”

Rowan began with the “good,” because even though the information she’d gleaned had been hard to hear, the spell had worked. They’d gotten the information they needed.

“Oh, those motherfuckers. ” Zaide pulled out a vape pen from her pocket and took a hit, releasing a puff of THC into the air. She offered it to Rowan, who turned it down with a wave.

“Listen, though, there’s more…”

“More? They going to beat us all with sticks on our way out of town to just really rub it in?” Her face took on a morbidly amused look.

“Sorry, I was imagining that, but with giant candy canes. Not really funny, though.” She finished with another dab and a sigh of smoke that crystallized in the cold air.

“A little funny,” admitted Rowan, laughing bitterly at the image of Hayleigh chasing her down the street while wielding a candy cane the size of her body.

Then she sobered. Zaide studied her and in a low voice asked, “You wiped her memory?”

A surge of nausea rolled through Rowan. The way Zaide was looking at her now was exactly what she had always feared. Like her oldest friend was wondering if there was anything Rowan had ever made her forget about.

The exact reason no one could ever trust a mind witch.

“Yes,” said Rowan, softly. “But all I wanted to wipe was what just happened. Not…my entire existence.” She tangled her fingers in her hair, tugging hard, coming away with a few strands.

It was a habit she needed to break, but it was hard to stop when she was stressed.

“She seems to remember everything else. Who she is, why she’s here, her job, Gavin… but no Rowan.”

“Well,” muttered Zaide, “she arrived at the proverbial ‘found out’ stage of fucking around.”

“What am I going to do?”

“I don’t know…” said Zaide, glancing away. “This is way above my experience level. If you want answers, you’re gonna need to spill to a more experienced witch.”

“ Not my mom.”

“Yeah, no, definitely not Liliana. But I dunno, your uncle?”

“Uncle Drew doesn’t know much about what goes on outside his own pungent wheelhouse.”

“Mmm…” Zaide snapped her fingers. “Birdie?”

That gave Rowan pause. Birdie had the most experience of them all, and she also had a laxer attitude about what violated the Rede. But could she be trusted not to gossip? The more people they let in on what happened, the more likely it was to spread.

After a moment’s consideration, she nodded.

It was a risk she’d have to take.