Page 35 of Uncharmed

Both witches lay on their backs, side by side on the blanket, with Karma settling happily around Maeve’s neck as though to make herself as inconvenient as physically possible. When night had fully rolled in, with its intricate pattern of sapphire sky sprawled above, Annie handed Maeve a pencil.

‘It’s straight from your pencil case.’

‘It is? I don’t recognize it.’

‘Okay, so I might have turned it pink. But that was an accidental, happy side effect of the enchantment, I promise. I’ve threaded a spell of Caelum Adambratio inside of it to get us started, to bestow the lead with pure, silver starlight into the tip. And now all you have to do is...’

Annie stretched up her hand towards the sky and against the darkness and tried a quick, extremely terrible sketch of herself, which she tried and failed to not be embarrassed about.

A line of silver trailed behind wherever she moved the pencil, etching her drawing into the sky.

‘Obviously I’m rubbish at this, don’t look at it.

But I have a feeling that you’re about to do something wonderful. ’

With no hesitation and only pure delight, Maeve took the pencil for herself and spent the next handful of hours joining the dots of the stars to paint the night sky with her own illustrations.

Handily learning the alignment of the stars, moons and planets as they drew, it was as though the constellations came to life.

Maeve filled every inch of the vast space above with her drawings, lost in her own world as well as the sky.

‘How does this even work? It’s incredible,’ Maeve said, her tongue poking out slightly as she concentrated intently on her drawings.

‘Nifty, isn’t it?’ Annie said, thoroughly pleased with herself for finding something that showcased the nature of Maeve’s magic so well.

‘If she so chooses, a witch can bequeath her powers into an object. She might wish to for lots of different reasons – maybe leaving a little protection behind for loved ones when she crosses over or if she’s keen to use a wand rather than a physical gesture.

Obviously, those reasons are more permanent, but it can be temporary, too. ’

‘Like the other night when Hal arrived and you were waving a wooden spoon around?’

Annie blushed. ‘Exactly. I didn’t entirely intend upon bewitching a wooden spoon – not my smoothest decision – but I was just swept up in the moment and it pulled on my magic.

You’re borrowing magic from the stars, it’ll be replaced when you’ve finished, but the pencil becomes a kind of wand to channel them.

Which feels very fitting for you and your many talents.

I have to say, though, it’s tough magic, I wasn’t expecting you’d take to this so easily. ’

The stars seemed to whisper Maeve’s stories, her sketches of liquid silver and magic decorating the sky like lace.

Annie could have burst with pride seeing them strung together with the girl’s spellwork and art.

She buzzed with the realization that it only reinforced their suspicions that Maeve’s magic was a unique, promising treasure.

Eventually, Hal returned.

‘I wondered if you two were responsible for these masterpieces,’ he said admiringly, dropping his satchel to the ground to join them.

He leaned back into the grass, both hands behind his head, to watch as Maeve finished an impressive drawing of Karma batting a ball of yarn that unravelled into Orion’s Belt.

‘I can’t take any credit. It’s all Maeve,’ Annie said, watching contentedly as the silver trail from the pencil sailed over her head like a shooting star.

The three of them had melted quickly into an easy companionship.

Annie was most surprised to find that she felt, perhaps not entirely relaxed, but at least 10 per cent more so around Hal’s calming presence.

Almost every man she encountered in her normal life made her feel the exact opposite: uncomfortable and rigid, overly self-aware.

But she found herself relieved and excited to see him come back safely to the cottage, just as he promised each morning.

Plus she supposed that any man who allowed Karma to sit on his head like a Russian winter hat was probably a decent sort of warlock.

While Maeve was distracted with an intricate portrait of the four of them among the stars, Annie noticed that Hal was silently trying to catch her attention.

His brows shot up and his eyes widened. She could read the meaning easily, even before he mouthed the words ‘the kid’ with a wink that was obviously intended to be encouraging, but conversely made Annie sort of flail a bit and feel as though her stomach might be eating itself.

He was encouraging her to raise the topic with Maeve.

Since Hal’s ‘chosen one’ comment, Annie had been actively avoiding the prospect of frank conversation with Maeve about the strangely magnetic qualities that her magic was exhibiting.

On the surface, it seemed foolish to let a teenager know that they may or may not be in possession of any kind of unusually strong early abilities.

But after getting to know the girl so well in a short space of time, Annie knew that there wasn’t a presumptuous, arrogant ego to worry about.

And why shouldn’t a young girl be told that she was, in fact, rather amazing?

It wasn’t a dangerous concept. Annie would have sold her soul for someone to have ever said that to her and to have truly meant it.

Maeve deserved to know that she was even more special than they had first suspected. She gave Hal a small, subtle nod.

‘Maeve,’ Annie said, rolling onto her front so that she could look directly at her. ‘This is brilliant. Your magic...I’m starting to realize that it’s rather strong. Really strong, in fact.’

Predictably, and as Annie should have known would happen, Maeve simply shrugged. ‘I know.’

‘You do?’

‘Course,’ the girl said dismissively, keeping all of her concentration on the portraits, finishing the finer details of Annie’s nose and Hal’s facial hair.

‘I’ve been telling that to anyone who’d pay attention since they came in.

That’s the problem, though, people just don’t listen to me. I told you that it all felt huge.’

‘Right, you did.’ Annie recalled their walk in the woods. ‘But I assumed we were just talking about your emotions.’

‘Emotions? No, Annie,’ Maeve said, rolling her eyes.

‘My emotions are all over the place, but they’re just emotions.

They come and go; it’s part of the deal of being fifteen.

It’s the magic that’s big.’ She said it as though it were entirely obvious, as though Annie should have figured it all out days ago.

‘Oh, well...That’s wonderful, good for you. And I’ve been thinking,’ Annie decided to chance.

‘Don’t pull a muscle,’ Maeve said with a snort.

Annie gave her a sarcastic look, then plucked a dandelion from the edge of the picnic blanket and passed a finger over the downy clock.

‘Maybe I should get in touch with the coven to tell them how we’re doing.

I know we’re supposed to be waiting for them to give you the all-clear, but I really think they’d be interested to know that. ..’

‘No.’ Maeve’s hand jerked in mid-air, the pencil dragging an unplanned, silver scratch across the sky.

‘Maeve, you don’t even know what I’m suggesting yet,’ Annie laughed. ‘If the coven knew that your magic was this extraordinary and improving so rapidly, they might...’

‘They might what? Throw me a party? Put me in charge?’

Maeve dropped the pencil to the blanket.

Her beautiful sky art faded as the spell unravelled, as though someone had taken an eraser to it all.

The feelings coming from Maeve changed within the pit of Annie’s chest as she tuned into them; a quiet, growing sense of worry and dread that mingled with a quick anger, which Annie inhaled with the chilly meadow air.

Maeve shook her head and her eyes moved from the sky to her nails, which she began to rip at. ‘Come on, Annie, even you’re not naive enough to think that strangeness is something that’s ever celebrated. Even in the wicche world, I don’t fit in.’

Annie blinked, confused. She shook it away with a disbelieving laugh.

‘The whole purpose of the coven is to celebrate magic in all its forms. They’d be delighted to see how special you are, just like Hal and I have been.

So far, all of my suggestions have felt like giving dot-to-dot homework sheets to a genius.

You’re too good! They might have ideas of how we could work on your magic even further, really push your talents. ’

This time, Maeve’s indignant snort was echoed by a matching one from Hal. Annie shot him a glare and he quickly returned to silently staring at the sky. Though he knew it wasn’t his place to contribute, he was evidently listening and had opinions that matched Maeve’s.

‘See? Even the cowboy knows I’m right.’

‘Don’t you two start ganging up on me. Maeve, they could challenge you better than I can.’

‘But I want to stay here,’ Maeve said, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

It didn’t linger, promptly replaced by confidence again.

‘You’re telling me that a magical coven would be thrilled to hear that a fifteen-year-old girl has extraordinary powers?

That they’d be chuffed for me and want to help me to channel them and test them as much as I can?

’ Maeve shook her head, as though she pitied Annie’s innocent mind.

‘Yes, that’s what always happens in stories like mine, isn’t it?

It always works out so well for the weirdo, doesn’t it? ’