Page 50 of Witch You Would

I remembered Quentin telling me Leandro was checking out my butt almost two weeks ago. How the turntables had, uh, turned.

“Looks good to me,” Gil said finally. “Last chance to go with the original plan.”

The urge to barf came back and all my veins filled with burning ice, but I shook my head. “In it to win it. Anyway, we have

luck on our side.” I showed him the queen of hearts card I kept tucked in my apron pocket.

“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing. “We won’t fail you.” Gently, he pulled the card closer and kissed it, looking up at me as

he did. I felt that promise all the way to my bones.

He handed me the coin and took the athame I’d sterilized. With one last surge of nerves, we stepped inside the circle’s outer

ring.

I put the coin in its spot at the center of the circle, then backed up and slipped my hand into Gil’s.

It took me longer than usual to center myself; years of panic attacks from fires and any associations with pressure-cooking weren’t going to magically disappear.

But Gil squeezed my hand, and I listened to his breaths, matched mine with his, inhaling and exhaling in a steady rhythm until I was calm enough to keep going.

We started to chant, a simple couplet: “As I will it, so shall you be. Take your shape from my memory.” Magical energy rose,

hovering around us like a heat shimmer. After nine repetitions, I held out my hand, and Gil carefully nicked the tip of my

ring finger—connected to my heart line. Together we knelt down, and I squeezed a drop of my blood onto the coin.

Light blazed through the lines of the circle, starting at the center and moving outward until all my painted lines and symbols

glowed as brightly as fluorescent lights. As we stood, the light reached the hematite array, then the prisms, then finally

the mirrors. So much energy filled the space, it was like standing in a sauna with a wet blanket dropped onto my head. Heat,

pressure, but also a feeling almost like being drunk, lightheaded and spinning and ready to dance until my feet were dirty.

I closed my eyes and pictured my abuela.

It was embarrassing how difficult it was, how long it had been since I’d seen her—I didn’t want to, didn’t want to remember her sitting near-comatose in a recliner with a blanket up to her chin, staring at nothing.

Instead, I thought back to my childhood, before the fire and the burns, before old age swallowed her like quicksand.

I imagined her dancing in the kitchen, a spoon in her hand, salsa playing on the radio.

Her eyes closed, shoulders bobbing, hips swaying, feet shuffling.

The high-waisted pants that had gone out of style years earlier, the short-sleeved button-down shirt covered in a tiny floral print.

Her short brown hair pushed back from her pale face by an elastic hair band.

More than that, I remembered how she felt, who she was. Strong and capable, smart and funny, patient and cheerful, even when

things went wrong. The heart of the house, the one who cleaned my scrapes and pulled out my splinters and hugged away my tears.

The one who insisted I could do and be anything I wanted if I believed hard enough.

Today, I believed as hard as I could.

The coin glowed, brighter than the rest of the circle, so bright I could see its shape through my closed eyelids. The smell

of anise and cumin filled my nose, so strong I could taste it. After I don’t know how many heartbeats, all the energy inside

the circle swirled toward the center like a whirlpool. A heavy wind scraped across my skin, pulling on my clothes. If my hair

had been loose, it would be blowing sideways. Gil held my hand, grounded me, kept my fears from letting the magic get out

of control. The spell would be fine as long as we stayed strong and anchored in our focus and intention.

We would. We could do anything together.

My ears popped as the last of the energy was sucked into the coin. For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe, like all the air

in the circle was gone, too. I opened one eye, then the other, blinking away the afterimages of all the bright lights.

“Presto,” Gil whispered.

I laughed. My body shook and my legs turned to jelly, adrenaline crash mixing with magic energy drain. Down I went, sitting

on the floor. Gil went with me, still holding my hand. I don’t know how long we stayed there, leaning against each other,

wrung out like wet towels.

“Is your butt starting to hurt?” Gil asked.

“Little bit,” I said.

“We should probably get up, then.”

“Probably.”

We didn’t get up. I looked at the countdown timer and groaned. Gil helped me stand.

“Time to finish the rest of this spell and win,” I said.

We high-fived and got back to work.

The judges, including Doris, took up their usual positions as Syd gave their speech about it being the final round, celebration

theme, amazing espectaculo and so on. Jokes were involved; I laughed on cue. We were all doing a great job pretending the

whole sabotage thing hadn’t happened, that this was all normal show stuff. I’d stuck on my customer service smile, Gil was

full Leandro himbo face, and Team Ice Queen looked all sophisticated and untouchable.

It was nearly midnight. Gil and I had chugged double espressos to keep from yawning nonstop, even though we were also both

wired from nerves. Fina and Bruno had retouched our hair and makeup. I couldn’t smell myself, but I doubted it was pretty.

I heroically did not sniff my armpits to find out.

The coin flip decided we were presenting first. Part of me was happy to get it out of the way; part of me wished I could see

Felicia and Charlotte’s spell before ours so I could manage my expectations. The rest of me wanted to run laps around the

block screaming until I passed out.

Gil rubbed his thumb along the side of my hand. I was squeezing him tight enough to make my fingers numb, so I relaxed my

grip.

“Penelope and Leandro,” Syd said, “please demonstrate your spell for the judges.”

Showtime.

Gil carried the top hat, while I carried the coin. The top hat went on a small table, open side up; the coin burned a hole

in my hand, figuratively speaking.

“Tell us about your spell,” Syd said.

“We call it ‘Making Magic Together,’” I said. “It honors the charity Leandro is competing for, and my abuela, my grandmother.”

Syd waved their hand. “Amaze us.”

I patted the queen of hearts card in my pocket for one last bit of luck, kissed the coin, then dropped it into the hat and

stepped back outside the containment circle. Gil immediately grabbed my hand again and we leaned on each other, holding our

breaths.

Mist poured out of the hat, giving the area a cool, mystical vibe. Sparkles twinkled like sequins catching the light, except

there was no light—until there was. A single bright spotlight shone on the hat, which seemed to float in all the fog.

A pair of white gloves rose out of the hat and spread out like the hands of an invisible magician. They picked up the hat

and showed there was nothing inside, then reached in and pulled out a ghostly white rabbit. The cutie hopped around the table

a few times before suddenly hopping in two different directions simultaneously, splitting into two rabbits. This repeated

until two dozen bunnies leaped off the table in waves and bounced around in the mist.

The gloves once again showed the hat was empty. This time, they pulled out a white dove, which cooed quietly. It took off

flying and flapped around, then started dividing like the rabbits, until a dozen doves hovered and made lazy circles above

the fog.

Now the gloves made a bouquet of flowers appear from nowhere.

They tossed the bouquet onto the floor in front of the table, and the flowers spread into a lush green carpet covered in wildflower blooms in varying shapes and colors.

The rabbits started to nibble at the flowers .

. . which burst into a flock of butterflies that drifted around as a bright, fluttering cloud before landing on different flowers, their wings opening and closing gently.

Now the gloves began to arc a deck of cards back and forth between them. After a few impressive shuffling cuts and passes,

the gloves spread the cards across the table in front of the hat, face down, then flipped them all over in a fluid motion

without touching them.

The various heart cards slid forward and floated into the air, then one by one they drifted across the area, dropping pearly

pink hearts like snowflakes. The diamonds emerged next, and those shot up and burst into fireworks. Strands of shimmering

color rained down on the doves, staining their white feathers, then the rabbits’ fur. The rest of the cards reformed into

a single stack, then arced across the flowery field as a rainbow disappearing into the mist at both ends. The animals scampered

and flew into the rainbow and vanished, leaving the landscape empty.

I swallowed nervously. Now we’d find out whether the pressure-cooked portion worked. What if it didn’t? What if I’d failed

again?

As if sensing my tension, Gil leaned closer and whispered, on the quietest breath, “Believe.”

Faint strains of music echoed throughout the room, some song pulled from the closet of my mind. A spiral of mist rose from

the floor and formed into a ghostly figure. My abuela, just as I remembered her. She danced through the flowers, one arm across

her stomach, the other bent with her hand raised. Her eyes were closed, and she smiled like she knew the secrets of the universe.

The gloves reached for my abuela’s hand, spun her around once, then helped her climb misty steps to the top of the table. She put a foot inside the top hat and began to shrink and dissipate into mist, like a genie going back into its bottle.

I didn’t even realize I was crying until Gil’s hand brushed tears off my cheek.

With a flourish, the gloves threw the hat toward the flowers and grass and rainbow, where it landed opening-up on the floor.