Page 18 of Uncharmed

Annie’s heart began to patter at an unsteady rhythm. ‘Accommodation? For us both?’ Panic started to lace its way through her veins with a cold, icy trail.

‘I regret to say that this shall be more of a nannying role than initially anticipated. A live-in companionship for the time being, so that you may monitor her closely,’ Morena said, pacing while she considered.

‘It may be a rather all-encompassing role. I personally cannot think of anything more frightful.’ She visibly shuddered.

Being sent away, somewhere unknown, with full responsibility for Maeve, felt terrifying for many, many reasons.

Annie actually felt a wave of nausea at the prospect.

Her thoughts began to run away from her.

Being away from home, her finely tuned routine thrown into disarray, her diary descending into chaos.

Dates began to jumble, plans began to criss-cross, her head ached.

How would she keep everything running perfectly, just as it was supposed to? What would she have to let go of?

‘For how long?’ Annie gulped, earning only an unconcerned shrug in return.

‘Until we see satisfactory improvements.’

There was Celeste to think about – although at least she could trust Faye and Pari to man the fort temporarily.

Perhaps she could bake at long distance, transfer the goods by magic?

But her precious, important time spent at the Sorciety would surely have to be put on hold.

As she saw her Crescent status fade further into the distance, Annie felt as though she was dangling from a ladder above a vortex and each rung at her feet was beginning to break away.

As though sensing the waves of panic beginning to emanate from her apprentice and the rare possibility that Annie may actually be preparing herself to say no, Morena cleared her throat.

‘A pertinent reminder, Ms Wildwood. This situation would be a perfect chance to impress and prove oneself. Rising in the face of adversity, stepping up when the coven is in need...The sort of act that doesn’t go unnoticed by Selcouth.’

Annie frantically twiddled a curl of her hair, then smoothed it back into place before twiddling again.

She attempted to surrender to Splendidus Infernum , to allow it to readjust her thinking and to uncover the positives.

People needed her once again. Acknowledging the thought stirred the spell at every nerve ending.

Impressing at Selcouth would also secure her further at the Sorciety. Glory Whitlock would be thrilled, proud to hear that Annie was moving closer to the inner eye of the storm. She was needed. Morena needed her, the coven needed her and...

She glanced around to Maeve, who was now playing keepy-up with the orange.

Maybe this young girl needed her, too.

Magic bubbled at the ends of her fingers, behind her eyes, at the base of her skull, connecting the dots and firing up the neurons.

Rose-coloured glasses were all very well and good, but Annie’s rose-coloured magic was even more effective.

Perhaps the opportunity could be considerably chicer than she’d first thought.

Images of a beautiful, wintery chalet flashed across her mind.

Or a luxury river-side apartment, where they could share fruit platters on the balcony.

Everything began to feel a touch brighter, the edges of her world turning pink again.

Morena tapped her foot. ‘Well? Can I count on you to fix this, Andromeda?’

As if she had a choice. As if she could say no.

‘Of course, Morena,’ Annie smiled. ‘I’ll be like an even more magical Mary Poppins.’

Morena looked appalled. ‘Pop in where?’

‘Never mind.’

Morena gave a quick, satisfied ‘ hmm ’. ‘Well, now that I’m here, I’d better do what I do best and follow the faint sounds of screaming.

I shall rectify this situation as best I can.

’ She began to gather up the hem of her cloak, beckoning Maeve back.

‘Ta-ta for now, Miss Cadmus. You shall remain at a safe house, under the care of Ms Wildwood for the foreseeable future. Would you give me that?’ she asked, gesturing to the orange.

Maeve reluctantly threw the fruit underarm to Morena, who caught it smoothly in one hand as if it were a baseball. ‘Andromeda, expect to hear from me when this has settled down to the coven’s satisfaction.’

‘Absolutely. We’ll have a wonderful time, won’t we, Maeve?

’ Annie found that she was bobbing up and down a little, grinning far too enthusiastically and.

..yes, she was clapping again. Her natural optimism, combined with the push and pull of the fractured spell, were causing strange, extremely annoying reactions.

The girl only shrugged back in response.

On that note, Morena turned on her heel with a final dramatic flourish of her cloak, the deep purple flashing richly.

Annie called after her. ‘Morena? You haven’t told us where we’re going. Morena...!’

Without even a glance backwards, Morena only raised a hand with an open palm and a wordless gesture of magic.

The Sage Witch’s transferral spell had knitted itself together before Annie could get an answer.

A lash of whipping wind gathered her up with the girl and sent them away in a quick, thrumming vortex of time and space and speed.

‘Woah.’ Maeve staggered and Annie lunged to catch her.

‘Poor thing, it really is rotten the first few times,’ Annie said kindly. ‘We ought to prioritize some kind of soft version of transference for first-timers. Now, where in the world...’

Under Morena’s incantation, the transferral spell had taken them to what could only be described as the middle of nowhere, a small woodland clearing that felt as though it were painted in sepia.

The bustle of London and even Maeve’s quiet village felt a world away as a dense silence fell suddenly around them, save for the rustling of leaves and some chirpy bird song.

Slim, silver-barked trunks towered above, as though they were stretched straight from the sky, and nearly bare branches knotted together like an intricate birdcage, the last of their golden brown treasure sprinkling over the witches with the breeze.

The air was fresh with a nutty, earthy scent – damp soil, sleeping animals and the ripe, bursting blackberries that were smattered across the tangles of lower brambles.

Something bleated faintly in the distance.

‘Was that a...sheep?’ Annie blurted out at an extremely high pitch.

Maeve snorted. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Maybe we’re camping? That could be fun.’

Annie let out a horrified noise, somewhere between a gasp and a death rattle.

‘Maeve, don’t joke about such things. Still,’ she went on, not allowing herself to falter too long, ‘we can make the best of a little adventure, can’t we?

’ She scooped up her briefcase, shook back her hair and marched forwards with renewed purpose, even in the face of what she could only describe as. ..nature.

‘Do you actually know the way?’ Maeve asked, sounding sceptical. She shielded her eyes from the dappled golden hour light that was leaking into the forest like melted butter, pouring onto the skirt of fallen leaves kicking up at their feet.

‘Not exactly. But it can’t be far and I know a spell to help us,’ Annie said.

She popped her briefcase back on the ground, careful to avoid any particularly muddy patches, and flexed her wrist. A flow of Iter Rectio sparks flew from her fingers towards it, catching the sunlight as they circled.

The briefcase began to rattle, as though something inside were clamouring to escape.

She picked it back up and the case promptly lurched forwards, dragging her arm with it like an untrained puppy on a lead.

She beckoned back over her shoulder to Maeve to follow as the briefcase led the way.

‘Keep up!’ Annie called as her arm was tugged forwards, hop-skipping over tree roots in her high heels.

‘Any second now, we’ll break through these woods and there’ll be a beautiful park-side townhouse waiting for us.

I just know it. Maybe Georgian or Edwardian.

I bet there’s a balcony and a reading room.

An amazing potions pantry. Oh, and I hadn’t even thought about the kitchen.

..Probably a giant cast-iron stove and a larder, one of those lovely new mixing machines,’ she said dreamily.

‘Every modern and magical convenience you can think of. Maybe we can try some new recipes tonight, some soothing autumn comfort food to settle ourselves in. And dessert. Are you hungry?’

‘I guess,’ Maeve muttered, power-walking to keep up.

‘Little sweet treats are so important, don’t you think?

’ Annie pushed aside a few rogue branches and hopped over a bunch of sticky weeds.

‘Anyway, what’s been your favourite thing about your magic so far?

’ The unexpected question sent Maeve careering back into her shell.

It was going to be a long road, memorizing which questions were entirely mortifying to a teenager and which were slightly more acceptable.

‘I dunno. Stuff.’

‘Stuff is wonderful. I love all kinds of stuff, too,’ Annie replied, desperate to not let the conversation die completely.

Maeve’s confidence seemed to flare and shrink with the flip of a coin.

But, despite Annie’s best efforts, the two witches continued their unplanned hike in silence, until the briefcase eventually fell to the floor with a sudden thud.

‘Are we here?’ Maeve peered around Annie’s side.

Annie let out a small, disturbed squeak. Unwelcome visions of a two-man polyester tent grew stronger. She recalled Faye once telling her all about a weekend camping trip when they’d had to use a tiny portable stove to heat a tin of beans and suddenly Annie felt as though she might cry.

She willed herself to find a solution, looking for some kind of signal from Morena that they had reached their destination.

Anything would be reassuring. It was almost entirely.

..leafy. And orange. And brown. Autumnal certainly, but she couldn’t concentrate on the cosiness potential at a time like this.

The October evening light was quickly dwindling.

What was Selcouth thinking, sending them to the middle of nowhere on a whim, with no further help or even some kind of treasure map?

What kind of covert magical organization didn’t at least leave a treasure map lying around?

She’d be having words with the admin department, that was for sure.

‘There, look.’ Maeve pointed.

Through the gaps in the dense trees, a single glow of lemon-yellow fell just ahead of them, like a singular firefly to guide their eyes.

The place was well disguised from prying eyes, a blanket of enchantments knotted together tightly to keep it from view.

Only a very particular angle of light and shadow, as if caught and trapped through a prism, revealed where to look through the thickets.

Each step closer brought it more clearly into view and, when Maeve parted the foliage, an open, dusk-drenched glade was tucked away and waiting quietly.

Annie gave a sigh of relief, waiting for the manifestation to complete itself.

A gorgeous lakehouse would suit them nicely.

Maybe a sprawling luxury farmhouse. Or a classic castle, freshly renovated for the modern witch’s requirements.

Instead, exactly in the centre of the meadow and framed in the orange of the woodland, sat a tiny, shabby cottage.