Page 32 of A Witch in Notting Hill

Was I really going to let him into this? This cynical man who was undeniably bad for me? I was about to expose him to a Ritualistic Restoration Cleansing?

I knew the obvious answer was no, but I was unable to get my mouth to form the word. Maybe it was the cold. Or the shock. Either way, what came out of my mouth instead was “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“But I’m not telling you the words. Just... just follow my lead.”

“Gladly.”

Tempting as it was to try to get this over with as soon as possible, I needed to focus in order for it to work. I needed to lock in, center myself, and ignore the way Oliver was looking at me as if whatever came out of my mouth next was the most important thing he’d ever hear.

And I needed to ignore the way the pond was slowly starting to slosh up against the banks, waves forming with every glance, every brush of his skin against mine. I saw where this was going, and I didn’t like it.

“So,” I said, treading away to put some distance between us before a tsunami formed in the pond.

“We float on our backs for as long as we can, eyes closed, letting the water wash over us however it wants. Ears, eyes, whatever. So long as you’re floating with your arms out and your face toward the sky. ”

“Easy enough,” he said, closing the distance once again. When I tried to back up more, the small waves nearly doubled in size. He didn’t seem to notice, with our labored treading and the tension between us, but it was only a matter of time. “Then what?”

“Then I’m going to say the spell a few times—in my head, of course—until we slowly start to sink. Once our bodies are totally underwater, we hold for as long as possible, then take the biggest breath we can when we come back up.”

“Then we’re done?”

“Then we’re done.”

“Is the spell hard?”

“Not if I’m focused.” Which I wasn’t. Not even close.

“And are you?”

“Yes.” No.

“Go on, then,” he said, closing his eyes and floating onto his back. His fingertips brushed against me, and the waves rippled over both of us. Breathe , I reminded myself. You have no choice. This has to work.

I let my legs float to the surface so that Oliver and I were side by side, faces turned toward the early morning sky, dawn breaking in the silence. It would have been peaceful had the stakes not been so high and had my heart not been pounding out of my chest.

“Willow, relax,” Oliver said, his deep voice following the current.

“I am relaxed.”

“You are not.”

“Are you sure you’re not the mind reader?”

I turned my head just enough to see his smirk from the corner of my eye. It didn’t help.

“You’re easy to read,” he said. “Very expressive. Which I’m sure is what makes you a good actor, yeah?”

“So they say.” This time he cut his eyes to me, and it was my turn to offer a small smile. “Stop distracting me.”

“Sorry, love.” He leaned back again, closing his eyes. “Carry on.”

Sure. No problem. I’ll just carry on.

I shook out my shoulders and went back to floating, trying to ignore Oliver and the current where there absolutely should not have been a current. Both in the water and between us.

With my eyes closed and my arms stretched out, I gave the spell a try, repeating it like a mantra in my head.

Natural water,

Darkened sky,

Wash away

What’s gone awry.

Cleanse my body,

Soul, and mind.

Leave what’s negative

Behind.

Prepare me for

What’s coming soon

Under the light

Of a shining moon.

I’ll leave this water

Fresh and free

To conquer all

That’s meant for me.

O nly, the brush of my fingertips against Oliver’s body halfway through ripped me from the moment. I tried floating farther away, but the waves were becoming problematic.

“Do you feel that?” he whispered, eyes still closed. “Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt your concentration. It’s just, does the water feel choppy to you?”

Shit.

“Does it?” I asked. He finally opened his eyes, bringing his body back upright.

“Yeah, look at it,” he said. “There are proper waves in the pond.” There were, indeed, waves in the pond. And the more I panicked, the more they picked up speed.

“You can get out,” I said, “and I’ll just wrap up the spell and be right behind you.”

“That wasn’t the deal. We’re doing this together, remember?”

I couldn’t exactly tell him he was the reason for the waves, especially when he likely already thought I was insane, but I needed to get him out of here if any of this was going to work.

“Just trust me,” I said. The sun was starting to rise, and we were running out of time.

His reluctant sigh cut right through me, but I didn’t have a choice. “I thought we agreed.”

“Oliver,” I snapped, harsher than I meant to. The glimpse of shock on his face was so brief I wondered if I imagined it. “Please,” I pleaded, softer.

“Fine,” he said. “But I don’t like this, Willow.”

“I’ll be fine. I just have to get through this before I get hypothermia and the pond overflows.” He nodded, and I forced myself to refocus. At this rate, I was at equal risk of drowning as I was of freezing, and I needed to get this show on the road.

Come on, Willow. Concentrate. Like he isn’t even here. It’s just you, alone in the pond, casting an easy spell that’s going to bring you one step closer to turning Vera back into a person. This isn’t about you. You can do this because you have to do this.

I floated on my back one more time, my lungs full of air and my limbs limp, and I tried the spell again.

The water slowed, but my heart was still racing. Come on. I said it again, then again, until I felt myself sinking. I heard Oliver’s sharp intake of breath just on the edge of the pond, and I forced myself to stay focused.

This isn’t about him. Do not let him in.

Once my entire body was under, I held my breath in my lungs until it burned. I can do this. I kept sinking, letting the ritual work its magic. Letting it cleanse me so I could move on with the quest. Letting it restore me and my confidence in my power. Letting it work .

It had to work.

Underwater, under the spell, as I continued sinking, I lost my senses. I was weightless. At the mercy of the water and the spell and the stillness.

Until I wasn’t.