Page 27 of Uncharmed

Annie spluttered. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, go on,’ Maeve said, laughing at her own dare.

Annie hesitated, giggling. ‘Right now?’

‘Right now. Just do a massive, ugly scream. Like you’re the hopeless blonde who’s about to be the first one murdered in a horror movie.

No offence, by the way, but that would definitely be you.

Shout as loud as you can.’ Leaning back with effort, Maeve let out a proud yell, right from the back of her throat that echoed monstrously through the canopy of leaves above.

Birds erupted from the tree above in a gust of wings, startled by the noise.

It made Annie jump, clutching at her heart.

Maeve grinned wickedly, sinking her hands back into her dungarees pockets. ‘Like that.’

‘I can’t do that,’ Annie laughed, incredulous.

‘Course you can.’

Annie’s mouth pressed into a flat line, somewhere between a frown and a smirk. ‘Ahh,’ she squeaked in a fractionally louder voice, adding jazz hands into the effort for some impossibly confusing reason. It sounded more like a deflating balloon than anything else.

Maeve pulled an unimpressed face and crossed her arms. ‘Is that really the best you’ve got?’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ Annie felt as though she was failing at something again. ‘I’m not very good at...letting go. It makes me embarrassed to be seen like that.’

‘Even by me?’

Annie nodded. ‘I don’t know why. I felt it with the painting, too. It’s like a switch that I can’t turn off. It’s just not me. I can’t be that way.’

Maeve snorted, then sighed. ‘You’re so perfect. It must be exhausting to be you.’

Usually, when Annie heard that she was perfect or even that she was good, it felt like a compliment.

A pat on the head or a squeeze of her shoulder that provided enough sustenance for her to live off for a little while.

She would stow it away like a treasure and permit herself small glances until it vanished and the supply needed restoring.

But from Maeve, she could guarantee that it wasn’t intended that way.

‘Well, thank you,’ Annie said uncertainly. ‘Yes, maybe it is hard work to live like this. But I’m not sure what happens if I stop being that way.’

Maeve rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t think the world ends, you know.’

‘ The world might not end, but mine could.’

Annie was taken aback even to hear herself say it.

It came out before she could consider whether she meant it or not, whether she should say it or not.

But, as the words unlatched from her tongue and floated down to the floor, dropping at her feet, she knew that it was true.

Everything would fall apart if she allowed herself to rest, even just for a second.

‘I have a lot of people that depend on me to keep showing up as best I can.’

‘But why do you feel like you owe some kind of version of yourself to anybody? Like your friends, just to make them feel more comfortable. No thanks,’ Maeve said, sniffing.

‘If you ask me, the whole point of life – and maybe the whole point of magic too – is that you’re supposed to just be yourself and see who sticks around.

Granted, it’s not working all that well for me so far.

’ She let out a funny bark of a laugh and squinted at Annie, waiting to see whether she had a response, then shook her head when one didn’t come.

‘You really are just as much of a weirdo as I am.’

Annie detected a faint tone of admiration or maybe wonderment in there somewhere. She knew that this was a real compliment, coming from Maeve, and felt strangely proud about it. ‘Maybe I am.’

‘So it is possible we might have been friends at school, then. If you were like thirty years younger, anyway. I bet I can predict exactly what your reports used to say...’ Maeve adapted her voice to a formal teacher.

‘ A pleasure to teach and a very bright girl. But she must try to speak up more. ’

‘How did you know that?’

‘Mine always say that, too. We’re the same, but different.’

Once again, Annie had to laugh at the frankness of Maeve’s opinions, which she was starting to learn came entirely de-bubble-wrapped, no matter the sensitivity of the topic. It was either rude or refreshing, she hadn’t quite decided yet.

Eventually, they reached a clearing in the woodland and Annie felt a tingle stipple its way down her spine, as though she had brushed something electrified. Her magic was tingling, the affinity sparking like a flint trying to catch light. Karma had to be close by.

It could have been the light playing tricks. A scattering of pale flowers, maybe a cotton-coloured puff of creamy hydrangeas...In the middle of the woods, in early October? Annie squinted at the splash of white.

Tail curled up neatly around her candyfloss-like shape, Karma was sat directly in the middle of a fairy ring. The circle of mushrooms sprung up from the ground like jutting jewels, bright caps of red rubies and creamy mother of pearl.

‘Karma!’ Maeve sprinted forward with a cry of relief.

‘Wait! Don’t step inside,’ Annie called quickly, darting to catch up.

Maeve recoiled backwards with a stumble.

‘Fairy rings can be a little unpredictable.’ The ring of mushrooms was a large one, maybe fifteen feet wide, and Karma was right in the centre licking her front paw to wash behind her ear.

The little pink bell on her bow jingled as she moved.

‘That’s so strange. Do they grow like that or is it a magic thing?’ Maeve asked.

‘A little bit of each. Impressive, isn’t it?’

Finally acknowledging her rescuers, Karma gave a quiet ‘ mrow ’, distinctly unimpressed that it had taken them so long to track her down, as though it hadn’t been her own choice to bolt into the unknown.

She scampered forwards as Annie knelt down beside the edge of the fairy ring.

Delivering a prompt headbutt to the knee, she began to purr at an impressive volume when Annie scooped her up and Maeve stroked her with profuse apologies.

‘You found the protective magic to keep you safe, Karma. Clever girl,’ Annie said softly, planting a kiss directly on top of the cat’s head and leaving behind a lipstick mark.

‘I’ve never seen one of these before,’ Maeve said, still fascinated by the fairy ring. She toed her shoe against one of the mushrooms curiously, until Annie warned her again.

‘Seriously, don’t. They’re fickle things; you can never quite know whether one has benevolent or sinister intention.

In other countries’ folklore, they’re known as witches’ rings – Hexenring in German, I think – and anyone with magical blood is normally safe to step inside, but you can never truly tell if you’re permitted.

It’s non-wicchefolk who mostly need to worry about the consequences, but a lot of wicchefolk think they’re dangerous and best avoided. ’

‘Dangerous? A bunch of mushrooms?’

‘There are all sorts of myths about fairies dancing non-wicchefolk to death after they’ve accidentally stumbled inside. And they turn them invisible so that no one can see that they need help.’

Maeve let out a low whistle. ‘That’s so dark,’ she said, sounding unmistakeably impressed by the grisly legend.

‘Isn’t it? There’s some horrible tales through history. I much prefer the idea that they’re just using the mushrooms as dining tables. Can you imagine how tiny their teacups must be? So adorable.’

Maeve rolled her eyes. ‘Boring. Can we talk more about the death dancing instead? I have a lot of questions.’ Annie tutted at her tendency towards the morbid. ‘Anyway, ours must be safe – definitely a witches’ ring, since Karma clearly decided that it was a safe bet.’

‘I’ve always suspected that my beautiful cat is probably a genius; this all but confirms it,’ Annie said proudly, before turning her attention back to the circle and studying it closely.

‘There – see the way there’s a very faint glimmer in the air inside it?

That’s protection. It makes sense that a witches’ ring would help a familiar, especially, and us in turn to find her. ’

Maeve tugged at her sleeves uncertainly.

‘Does she hate me now?’ Right on cue, Karma trilled a chirp and stretched out a paw to Maeve.

‘I’m sorry I scared you, Karma. I scare myself all the time, so I get it.

’ Karma stretched her neck towards her, indicating that she would willingly accept a further scritch behind the ears as an apology.

‘I’ve never seen this cat take so thoroughly to anybody,’ Annie marvelled. ‘She really loves you.’

Maeve grinned proudly. ‘Why did you call her Karma?’

‘I thought that was obvious,’ Annie said with a smug look. ‘I love all things sweet.’

‘Well, cheers, fairies, witches, gnomes, pixies, whoever else happens to be hanging out around here...’ Maeve said, saluting the circle of mushrooms. ‘Thanks for looking after the cat and for not dancing us to death. That would be a really embarrassing way for me to go.’

‘Come on, if I don’t have a bubbling foot spa within the next three minutes, I think reality will set in and I’ll never stop screaming.

And, while I handle the fire aftermath, you’ve got the washing-up to do that painting distracted me from,’ Annie said brightly as they turned to head back to the cottage, an arm around Maeve’s shoulder where Karma was balanced like a parrot.

Maeve’s mouth fell open.

‘Are you joking? There’s enough washing-up to keep me at the sink until I’m ready for an old people’s home. You practically opened up a pancake cafe, I’m not...’

‘Oh, I think you’ll find you are...’

Their gentle bickering and laughter caught and carried along on the wind.

The sound, a soft and distinctly precious one, something new and special to Arden Place, whipped into a swirl of crackling leaves like caramel through cake and folded itself around the witches’ ring to mingle with the rest of the whispers that wound through the woods.