Hexen's Binding

by J. Kowallis

  Coll nods toward the house. “Inside. After your da helped to strip me half naked and put me into the shower.”

  “Thank you. I’m never going to get that image out of my head.”

  “He said somethin’ to me,” Coll whispers. This pricks my attention and my eyes dart to his face.

  “What did he say?”

  Coll tilts his head and tucks drags his knuckles over my cheek. “I’ll tell yeh another time. I promise.”

  My heart pounds. “That’s not fair.”

  “Look, he said it to me in confidence. Not you. I don’t want to piss off my future father-in-law before I even have the chance to wed his daughter. Now, yeh may not want to right away. Have a bindin’. If you’re still havin’ issues . . . with me. With Ruhmactír and what he did. But I hope you’ll still consider it. Someday.”

  I search his eyes, thinking about the possibility. I just told him I didn’t know what I wanted until I’d nearly lost him. In that moment, I knew. I knew everything that Angie tried to force me to confront for days. Almost weeks.

  “All right. Yes.”

  “That’s it? That’s all I get? A feckin’ ‘all right?’ I mean, I was kind of hopin’ for a ‘thousand times, yes’ or some shite like that.”

  I grin and lean in for another kiss, running my fingers through his dark hair. When I pull back, I’m still smiling. “Oh, feck yes, Collens Donovan.”

  “That’s better.” He bites his lip. “And I promise that the night of our bindin’, I’ll have better stamina. Trust me.”

  I laugh, my cheeks warming.

  “Coll! Taran! Food!” Emilia shouts from the house again.

  “JUST A SECOND!” I yell at the same time Coll strains to glance over his shoulder and yells, “SOD OFF, YEH POX! SHE’S GETTIN’ THE RIDE!” followed by a firm slug from me into his shoulder.

  “Ow.” He winces before grinning at me.

  “Eejit!” Emilia yells back before going back in the house.

  “You’re such a dick,” I shake my head, weakly smiling at him. I sigh. “Seeing as that is,” I give him a warning look, “please don’t make me regret saying this, but . . . I don’t want to wait. You’re right. I mean, I almost lost you. And if this binding is more powerful than a typical marriage. If it keeps us together into the afterlife, I want it. Because I can’t make it through this without you.”

  Coll brushes my hair behind my ear as it billows in front of my face and he hums again. “Eh. Yeh just want to shag me for eternity.”

  “Please stop saying that. You’re gonna make me start thinking that’s all you want.” I pinch him again and he grins, batting my hand away.

  “All right. Deal. But, will yeh shag me . . . sometimes?” he cocks his head.

  I open my mouth, then close it again when he winks. “Fine. Sometimes.”

  “I knew it was true.”

  “Coll!”

  He leans toward me again and shuts me up with another small kiss.

  Twenty-Nine

  Two weeks. That’s all the time we gave ourselves to prepare for the binding.

  After the expulsion, exorcism adventure, Coll stayed with Angie for another five days before he felt rested enough to go back to his life. With me still on sabbatical, it was easy for him to convince me to come with him to London instead of going back to California. I, of course, insisted on staying at the St. Pancras again. After all, I’d told him, he still needed his rest, and if I’d stayed with him . . . he wouldn’t have gotten any. Rest, that is.

  “How about these?” my mom asks.

  I turn around from the hotel vanity mirror to see what she’s holding. Mom sits on the bed, holding a pair of dangling earrings from her fingertips. She’s now shown me three pairs, concerned about how they’ll work with her dark maroon pantsuit.

  In response, I nod and smile. “Those work great.”

  Mom’s excited, Sera’s excited, Emilia as well. Even myself. Still, a dark pit settles into my stomach and I can’t seem to shake it. It’s been pestering me since I woke up this morning. I keep telling myself I need to let it go. Everyone gets cold feet, butterflies, nerves, whatever you want to call it. I’m no different. Especially considering the fact that Coll and I haven’t really known each other all that long and we decided to throw our binding together in only two weeks.

  “Good.” Mom smiles and puts them on—a simple pair of drop pearls that have a small diamond in the stud.

  Back in my own mirror, I clear my throat and try my best to brush off that anxious feeling. I snap my fingers and set my long dark hair into a wavy style. All loose. My bangs frame my face in layers. Another snap of my fingers, an image of what I want in my mind, and my makeup appears. Neutral eyes, minimal mascara, and a peachy nude lip that matches the blush trailing from my high cheek bones to my temples.

  “Damn, I wish I could do that,” Emilia sighs from her seat on the hotel bed.

  I smile at her in the mirror. “Oh, it wasn’t always this easy. The first time I tried to apply makeup with magic the mascara smeared through my eyebrows instead of my eyelashes.”

  Mom laughs. “I remember that. You looked like my uncle with his bushman eyebrows.”

  I smile. “But, you know, Emilia, Coll made his opinion quite clear.”

  She nods and looks a little more than annoyed.

  “Of course, now that he’s out of harm’s way, maybe you can talk to him. I believe there’s a potion and spell we could use on you, if you wanted, that would unlock your powers.”

  Her eyes widen, and she looks at Sera, who’s just come out of the bathroom. “Is that true?”

  I nod. “You’re an adult. Although, don’t tell Coll I gave you the idea. He’ll never forgive me.”

  “Tell ‘im what?” Sera asks, setting another bobby pin in her side chignon.

  “Nothin’,” Emilia shuts her mouth, gazing at me. I probably shouldn’t have told her, but ever since she watched me make that sleeping draught for the Ruhmactír version of Coll, she’s been obsessed—asking Angie questions about the Donovan hexen line, how curses work, the ancestral magical line, anything either of us are willing to give her. Even if I hadn’t told her, she’d find out on her own with the way she’s been asking Angie questions and glancing at spell books.

  A knock raps on the door and Sera walks over in her floor-length, blush pink lace slip dress and answers the door. “She almost ready?” I hear my sister Lotte’s voice on the other side.

  “Almost. Come in.”

  Lotte, whom Dad traveled here last night due to her class schedule, comes in with a grin on her face and a similar style blush dress. She rushes over to Emilia and the two girls squeal and laugh as they hug. I can’t believe how much she looks like I did at her age. It’s disturbing really, seeing myself in her. Directly behind her joyful chatter session with Emilia, my móraí walks in. Her long white hair is knotted into a braided bun on the back of her head and she’s wearing a dark navy dress—complete with a black shawl.

  “Oh my,” Lotte puts her hands to her mouth, turning from Emilia and shaking her head. “You look amazing.”

  My eyebrows slope. “With my basic hair and nude makeup?”

  “Yes,” she grins.

  “By the spirits, I don’t even have my dress on yet. You know, remind me again why we decided to make this a big event?” I ask, looking at my mom. That pit in my stomach starts to burrow deeper.

  “Because I demanded it. Come on, I only met Coll two days ago. It would have killed me to know you married someone we didn’t get to meet. You won when it came to having no reception but let me at least have the wedding.”

  “Binding,” I correct her.

  Mom raises her hands in defense. “Fine. Binding. How are you, Marlis?” She leans down and wraps Móraí in a loose hug.

  “Relieved. I thought I’d be dead before she figured this out.”

  I half grumble, half laugh, walking over to the hotel armoire. Hanging inside is my dress. I pull it out of the garment bag and drape i
t over the nearest bed. After slipping off my robe and standing there in my underwear, I notice my mom start to cry.

  “What is it?” I ask, picking up the beige layered chiffon piece, worry sinking in further.

  Mom tries to smile and she leans over to the hotel desk to grab a tissue. She pats the tissue in the corners of her eyes. “You’re still just my baby. I can’t help it.”

  I smile sweetly and sigh. “Nothing’s changing.”

  Mom lifts her eyebrows in disagreement. “Marriage changes everything. But, hopefully in good ways.”

  I smile before unzipping the back of the dress. After slipping it on, I ask Emilia to zip it back up. That’s when Mom really loses it. “Oh—” her voice cuts off sitting down at the desk chair I just vacated a few minutes ago. She fans her face, trying to hold the tears at bay. “I can’t believe—” Again, she fails to finish.

  With a small laugh, I sigh and move to the mirror to make any last-minute adjustments. I fell in love with the design the moment I saw it back when I was eight. It’s my mother’s. When she wore it, it was pure white, but over time, the fabric aged. To make up for any discoloration, I cleaned and dyed a faint shade of ecru. The neckline plunges deep to the center of my breastbone, and the sleeves flutter all the way to my elbows. The dress gathers slightly in an upside-down V under my breasts like a sort of peaked empire waist. From there, the fabric cascades like a waterfall to the floor where it ends in slight ruffles that poke out under the main chiffon layers.

  Mom steps toward me and wraps me in her arms. “Oh, I hope he deserves you.”

  I laugh, saying, “He doesn’t,” in her ear as we separate. “But I love him.”

  At that, Mom smiles and rubs my arms.

  “So, did Alina make it?” I ask Lotte when I turn.

  My sister’s face falls and she shakes her head.

  “Well,” I sigh. “I suppose it was too much to ask after what she did for me.”

  “Carl’s a moron,” Móraí mutters.

  “Marlis!” Mom spins on her.

  “Don’t reprimand me. It’s the truth. Not to mention, I’m an old lady. I’ve earned the right to say whatever I want at my age.”

  Sera claps her hands and looks at all of us, trying to curb an argument. “Well then. If everyone is here, I say we get crackin’.”

  “Go ahead,” I nod to everyone, “we’ll meet you there.”

  Mom gives me a kiss on the cheek, Emilia squeezes my hand, and Lotte waves enthusiastically as they all walk out the door. Sera’s the second to last to leave, but before she does, she looks down the hallway. “Ah, he’s comin’. Listen, I just want yeh to know . . .” she shakes her head, “I’m glad yeh came back. I wouldn’t want anyone else binded to him. I’m glad it’s you.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper. Sera nods and steps out with a loving smile.

  Deep breaths, I have to say to myself. This feeling will go away, just get ready and get this over with.

  Móraí walks up to me and takes my fingers into her bony hands. “I have one thing for you before I travel to your father.” Her hand shakes as she does so, but with a snap of her fingers, a crown of wych elm leaves encircles my head. Móraí beckons me to lean closer and she plants a kiss on my forehead.

  “You chose well, mo sféar.”

  I grip her soft old hand and smile. “Did I really have a choice? The two of us being prophesied and everything?”

  “Of course, you did. You always have a choice.” She finishes by squeezing my hand and disappearing before my every eyes.

  Quickly, I rush to find my flats and slip them on. With some fresh dabs of palmarosa and jasmine oils on my wrists and neck, I take one final step and mix in some ginger oil along with it.

  After all, it’s Coll. And this is our binding.

  A final knock sounds at the door and I take a final calming breath before I move. A part of me can’t believe this is happening. Another part wonders why it even took this long to find him in the first place. Then there’s the part I’m trying to quash into the mud. That sinking.

  I pick up my skirt and rustle over to the door. When I open it, I find Coll. He’s dressed in a euro-cut black suit, every button of the jacket undone. His shirt collar remains unbuttoned at the top, and his black shoes are polished to a high sheen. Without breaking my gaze, Coll’s mouth slowly drops open. His breaths, I notice, slow down and deepen.

  “Holy shite,” he whispers.

  Color rises to my cheeks, I can feel it, and I tuck my hair behind my ear. “That good, eh?”

  “Better.” He licks his lips and then finally allows himself to scan the rest of my body. “Damn. Do yeh think we have time to,” he motions toward the bed and I shake my head.

  “And mess up my hair?” I smirk. “Besides, we made a pact.”

  He makes a disgusted face. “No sex ‘til after, I know. I still think your gone in the head.” Then, he braces himself against the doorway and he looks me over again. A low hum rumbles in his throat before offering his hand. “Come on, woman.”

  “You’re still gonna call me that?” I ask, taking it and pulling him further into the room.

  Coll grins. “It’s a term of endearment.” The hotel door closes, and Coll takes both of my hands in his. “Yeh ready?”

  “I must be ‘gone in the head’,” I smile, “but I am. Ready.”

  It’s true. Standing next to him, talking to him, that dark, uneasy nervousness fades. It doesn’t disappear, but it dwindles.

  Both of us stare into each other’s eyes as the energy inside us burns and glows. Connected to our magic, we travel at the same time and the next thing I know, we’re standing in a small grassy meadow in the middle of a grove of trees. Alone. It’ll still take Mom and the others a little under an hour to arrive via their car, but this was what I wanted.

  To stand here again. In Bryden. With Coll. To take one of the worst days of my life and turn it into a positive one.

  Coll releases my left hand and walks next to me as we approach the village of Bryden. Luckily, the spell we cast that day didn’t make Bryden accessible to anyone but those of hexen blood. Or so it seems, because no one has said a word about it in the news. The grass smells just as sweet as it did the last time, although it may be turning a slight shade of green yellow as the season starts to change. The lingering smoke from the small cottages has been snuffed out finally, and everything is . . . dare I say it . . . calm.

  We approach the rune table in the center of the village and I reach out and touch it. “Coll, was it a mistake to do this here?”

  He holds my hand tighter. “Why would yeh say that?”

  I had planned this whole day out. From who would be here to the dress, to the location. Even how I would feel. Nowhere in those plans did I account for the darkness in my gut. An impression I can’t shake. I look at Coll.

  “Do you feel it?”

  His mouth slowly closes. He doesn’t even ask me what I’m talking about. “The hollow ache? The sense that somethin’s not right.”

  I nod.

  So does he.

  “I thought it was maybe just nerves. Jitters. But maybe we should put this off,” I whisper.

  To this, he shakes his head. “No, there will always be somethin’. And quite frankly, you’re too gorgeous to waste a perfectly good bindin’ day.”

  I smile and turn to face him. After a deep breath, I square my shoulders in determination. “You’re very right. Much too gorgeous.”

  Coll sniggers. “Not as gorgeous as I am, but . . . you’ll do.”

  I lace my arms around his waist, biting my lip. “You’re so pretty, Coll.”

  He chuckles. “Jayz, don’t ever say that again.”

  I grin, enjoying the banter he and I have grown so accustomed to over the last two weeks. And even those couple days leading up to that day we entered Bryden. Three weeks. Three weeks in total. That’s all?

  “What is it?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

  I refocus and sigh. “What do you mean?�
��

  “I know that look. Yeh got that same look in your eyes when we were locked in the library that night.”

  I frown, confused.

  “When yeh—”

  A slight rustle sounds over Coll’s shoulder. I peek over to see Dad walking through the tall grass, his own gray three-piece suit missing a jacket, until I realize it’s dangling from his hand. Dad trimmed his facial hair and his hair short in his attempt to “pretend he’s not gray on the sides.” His words, not mine.

  Shortly after he arrives, Angie appears in tow with Móraí. Angie approaches her and offers my móraí help walking across the field, but all she gets is a harsh slap on the hand. So, she picks up the hem of her odd, tie-dye, patchwork maxi skirt, the bell sleeves of her peasant top dragging across the tips of the grass. Before she reaches us, she hops over a fallen log and beams while my móraí takes her own dear time.

  “You two ready?” Dad asks.

  I nod and pull out of Coll’s grip. Over the next half hour, four of us cast protection spells while Angie performs blessing rituals and standard clearing charms to prepare this sacred area for the binding. Dad’s the first one to finish and when he sees the others from the cars walking down the hill from Betchworth, he whistles at the rest of us before going to show them the way down.

  Though I acknowledge his call, I try to take the time to put up one last spell. In the middle, Coll grabs my elbow and I jump.

  “The others are here,” he says.

  “Ugh. You interrupted me.”

  He spins me around to face him and places his warm lips on my neck. “Ah, leave it, it’s good enough. I think we’re covered.”

  I smile, wrapping my arms around him and pulling myself close. “Is this how it’s going to be?” I ask, stroking the trimmed hair at the nape of his neck. “Good enough? I really think the ancestors would frown on that. Not to mention that we’re both feeling uneasy.”

  “I know,” he kisses my cheek, “but I don’t dare argue with your da.”

  I smile and allow Coll to lead me to the rest of the arriving family members.

  “Well!” Dad says, standing at the head of the rune table. The exact same spot that Woden stood when he was killed in my and Coll’s timeline. Dad’s back is turned to it, facing us.