Page 46 of Uncharmed

‘No, you don’t. Who said we have to take any notice of them?’ Maeve’s voice was light and scoffing, but Annie recognized that slight, exposing shake to it that she used to hear when they first met all those weeks ago. The girl had frozen stock-still, a half-eaten s’more still between her fingers.

Usually, Splendidus Infernum would kick in at any moment, intuitively fogging the scene to pleasantly temper things. Instead, Annie could see the reality with no rose-coloured tint.

Annie reached for the letter, grabbing it quickly to avoid the flames. The papers unfurled of their own accord and the handwriting glowed as intensely as the fire behind it.

Andromeda,

The magical monitoring department has informed me that there have been no significant spikes in Miss Cadmus’s magic use for some time; twenty-one nights, in fact.

As a result, I send the official decree that you may both return tomorrow to your usual circumstance within the non-wicche realm, on the trusting that Selcouth shall continue to maintain a close eye over her and her magic in a new placement for the endarkenment process.

Please consider this an immediate conclusion to your guardianship responsibilities.

Some readings have correlated particularly strong magic use to the coordinates of Arden Place, but I have informed our watchman that this is due to three wicchefolk residing within one single accommodation and that you would have of course reported anything curious to me.

I assume that I am correct, as I always am.

Morena

P.S. I do hope the unannounced arrival of one Mr Bancroft did not cause an overt amount of disruption and that he has not insisted on plaguing you with the same nonsensical, usually griffin-related requests that he so enjoys haranguing me with.

Annie swallowed, glancing at the others. ‘It’s from Selcouth.’

Hal simply shook his head, and returned to sit back down on his own hay bale.

‘The coven says your magic is contained. We...we have to go home,’ Annie said with a swallow.

It felt surreal and uncertain to say it out loud, like a sting landing across her cheek from a slap.

Memories of her other life, her real life, the life that she was supposed to be leading, came crashing back.

She had been sure they would have more time. It had felt as though this could be an infinite, a forever.

Maeve scoffed, the uncomfortable noise a plaster slapped against a new, raw wound.

‘Well, that’s a stupid decision. And obviously the wrong one.

So, what, I go a few measly weeks without blowing something up or turning someone into a tangerine and they think I’m fine to go back to school with all of this.

..this magic?’ She practically spat the last word.

Annie turned to her. ‘Technically, they’re right.’

Suddenly, the jaws of obligation and expectation bit back down. She had prised them open without realizing at some point between that moment and three weeks ago. Now, her arms gave way under the weight of keeping them at bay. She thought of the Sorciety. The coven. Her work. All of the expectation.

Maeve faltered, the treacherous answer evidently not what she was expecting to hear.

‘I mean we’ve seen your magic do amazing things over the past few weeks,’ Annie went on, taking a step closer to Maeve.

‘You’ve achieved so much.’ Her voice was too high-pitched.

She tried her best to make it sound like good news, but it felt as though it would choke her. ‘I’m so proud of you. You did it.’

‘Then why are you sending me away?’

‘Maeve,’ Annie laughed – or tried to. It was dry, scratching. ‘I’m not sending you away. Don’t say that. We have to go home.’

‘But...but this feels more like a home than anywhere I’ve ever lived.’

Annie had to close her eyes for a moment, not allowing the heartbreak to take hold. Instead, her hands flew to her hips in a pretence at some authority and she tried to give a light answer. ‘Well, we can’t stay here for ever, can we? This is Hal’s house, for starters, and he doesn’t want us here.’

‘That’s not true,’ said Hal, who sat very still, his eyes narrowly fixed on Annie. There was cool determination across his face.

‘See,’ Maeve said emphatically, crossing her arms. The pair of them shot a conspiratorial look to one another across the fire.

Annie laughed at the ridiculous simplicity of Hal’s reply, but it came out as more of an incredulous, angry breath.

‘Oh, so all three of us are supposed to just abandon our entire lives and stay in this house together, are we? You’re crazy.

We already spend half of our time wanting to throttle each other. There’s no way.’

‘Why not?’ Maeve hit back.

‘Because life doesn’t work like that, okay?

’ Annie’s voice was rising, the temper that she had kept locked away for so many years choosing now of all moments to wake with an impatient lion’s yawn.

It wasn’t fair. ‘This isn’t real life, the three of us holed up here together in a cosy cottage like all the realms’ most mismatched, dysfunctional family.

I have a job and real responsibilities. I already have a life, without the two of you in it making everything feel so completely confusing and. ..’

‘Well, that’s just charming, isn’t it, Hal?’ Maeve interrupted. He grimaced.

‘I had a task to complete for the coven. And, look, we’ve done it.’

Annie brandished the letter, but Maeve snatched it from her grasp and promptly chucked it straight into the fire.

‘I am not a task,’ Maeve spat. Annie noticed the static of unbridled magic spark between the girl’s fingertips again in a way she hadn’t seen since their first days.

But she quickly reeled herself back in and her powers’ temper quelled.

‘Annie, come on,’ Maeve continued, her tone more bargaining.

‘You’ve said it yourself that you’re unhappy with the corner that you’ve been backed into.

So am I. I know you wish that you could go back and change things for yourself. Maybe this is how we...’

‘This is not a case of “we”, Maeve. You have to go home and so do I. And Hal has to go back to his normal life without the two of us ruining it for him.’

Maeve stared at her, open-mouthed. She turned to Hal for support. ‘C’mon, cowboy, back me up here.’

Even across from the bonfire, Annie heard Hal’s deep sigh as he stood up to speak. ‘Annie’s right, Maeve.’

Maeve faltered. ‘Since when have you ever called me Maeve?’

‘Since I’m backing up your guardian on this one, kid. Neither of you belong here, holed up with me. That’s just the way it has to be. It’s the way that this was always supposed to go.’

Annie hoped that she was imagining the crack in his voice. She steeled herself to deliver the final word. It felt unnatural and ugly, to know that she was causing someone that she cared for anything other than happiness. And this wasn’t just a someone, this was Maeve.

‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, but the matter is closed. Our time here has finished.’

Maeve looked as though she’d been slapped; Annie could barely believe that she was seeing or hearing herself right. It felt as though she had been placed in a body that wasn’t hers. She hastily brushed away a rogue tear that had escaped despite her best efforts.

‘Go and pack your things, please.’

It felt as though her heart splintered when she noticed Maeve’s bottom lip quiver for a fraction of a second, wavering like the shadows of the bonfire flames.

But the girl quickly steeled herself, as she always did.

Maeve stormed away and Karma leapt up hastily to follow her friend.

Moments later, the sound of a slammed door crashed through the cottage with so much force that the entire house rattled.

Annie let out a heavy breath and slumped back down onto the hay bale, folding in half to hug her legs and rest her forehead against her knees. The silence, speckled with the angry spitting of the fire, felt so heavy.

Eventually, Hal dared to break it.

‘Stay.’

He was hunched over, too, staring fixedly at his fingers that were laced together, elbows on thighs. Their bodies mirrored one another either side of the bonfire, silhouetting them both in orange and red.

‘But you just said...’

‘Well, I had to back you up in front of the kid, didn’t I? But I’m serious, you should stay. For as long as you like.’ Hal leaned towards her, his face illuminated by the flames. ‘What is it exactly that you are trying to prove, Annie?’

She pressed her lips together, fighting the temptation to tell the truth but quickly buckled, the answer forming itself without any hexes or curses or spells to temper it into a more palatable, less startling truth. ‘I don’t even know any more.’

Hal didn’t reply, simply raised his eyebrows to invite her to explain.

She picked at a cuticle before catching herself ruining the nail.

She turned her distraction to the hay bale instead as she tried to talk sense into him, still not permitting herself to meet his eyes as she pulled at single strands.

‘Things might seem okay right now, but a few more days and we’ll end up driving you crazy.

Maeve’s scrunchies constantly lying around, my glitter everywhere.

..’ Annie breathed an empty laugh. ‘You already think I’m the worst.’

‘Sometimes,’ Hal nodded, leaning back and rubbing a hand roughly through his beard. ‘Other times...’ He paused, catching her eyes under lock and key. ‘Other times, I think you might just be perfect.’

Everything in the current between them paused, the tiniest flecks of embers hanging in the air like fresh sparks of magic.

Crackles from the flames snapped against the quiet.

It was Annie who broke first, averting her gaze back to the bonfire and hoping that the flush across her cheeks looked only like a result of its warmth.

This wasn’t part of the plan. She shot to her feet, clenching her fists and squeezing her eyes shut.

Hal tried again softly, looking up at her with his hands still interlocked, as though he didn’t dare move for fear of frightening her away. ‘Not just for Maeve, although I think we make a damn good team for the kid. This is...this is good. Why won’t you give it a chance?’

She couldn’t stand to hear another word.

Annie spun on her heel and followed the path back to the cottage that Maeve’s whirlwind had scorched into the grass.

She found herself in the kitchen and gripped the countertop to try to steady herself while her head spun.

Her knuckles were white again. She hadn’t seen that happen in weeks.

‘It’s a fair question, Annie,’ Hal said quietly behind her. He had followed her inside but kept his distance, leaning against one of the wooden beams with his arms crossed. ‘Give me one real, good reason and I’ll understand it.’

‘Because this is not the life that I am supposed to have. My real life is in London, my real life is at Celeste, my real life is at The S...at the city,’ she said sharply, jabbing a finger into the countertop.

‘A lot of people are relying on me and I can’t just abandon them. I can’t let them down.’

‘Right, of course,’ he nodded calmly. ‘And what kind of happiness are you getting in return for that?’

He took a step into the kitchen towards her. Annie swallowed hard and stood her ground, jutting her chin out higher. ‘That doesn’t matter. I’m just fine.’

Hal simply nodded, eyes so fixed on hers that it felt as though he was looking directly into her soul. ‘You’re allowed to do it, you know. Why shouldn’t you start again, for you?’

Another step closer. She mirrored it backwards.

‘Why should you just be fine ? Why shouldn’t you be happy?’

Annie startled as she stepped back again and her shoulder blades touched the wall.

She noticed Hal’s jaw muscles tighten as he slowly moved his hand towards her face and tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, which would never have been there if she was still under the spell.

Such a perfect, tender gesture that he wouldn’t even have had reason to do.

‘You’re too good to be tethering yourself to people out of fear instead of love. ’

His voice was a thick, hoarse whisper. ‘I know it’s crazy for me to ask you to stay. I know you’re too good and bright and brilliant for a small kind of life like mine. But I have to be selfish and unreasonable and ask it anyway. Stay, just for now, and we can figure it out a day at a time.’

Their eyes felt magnetized as he leaned over her, his arm above her pressed against the wall.

Annie knew she should look away and break it, but there was a sincerity in his face.

There was no sarcasm, no gruffness, nothing but a confident honesty and an inch of vulnerability that felt like a mile coming from him.

But this was not what was supposed to happen. This plan was messy and unknowable and chaotic. It couldn’t even be called a plan. This wasn’t the way that she did things.

‘This is not real life!’ Annie said crossly, something in her flaring uncontrollably.

‘This is probably the most real your life has ever been, Annie.’

Hal reeled himself back in and took a breath with relenting, closed eyes. Annie looked at him blankly, a life of training taking over.

‘This can’t be real for me,’ Annie said simply.

‘Otherwise everything I’ve ever done, everything I’ve ever sacrificed, has been for nothing.

’ She spoke calmly and quietly enough that a numbness returned to her from head to toe.

It was as though the harsh reminder of her old life had awoken some final, lingering dregs of the spell.

Like it had sparked something at the pit of her stomach to fix things on her behalf, within the confines of her bones.

She slid out from underneath his arm and made her way towards the staircase.

‘Don’t go.’

Hal tried one last time. She turned back to find he was still facing the space that she’d just abandoned, the back of his head low. With a sigh, he dropped his arm, but he refused to turn around to see her disappear upstairs.

She could only reply with the truth. ‘We have to.’