Lost Magic

by Alexandria Clarke

  She fell quiet, but her expression did not change. It took me a moment to realize what she wanted from me.

  “Lady of the lake,” I said. “Will you join me and Alberta in the coming of age mentor-mentee bonding spell?”

  The woman in gold’s snarling mouth morphed into a radiant beaming smile. “Yes, I would be happy to bond you and your mentor.”

  “And will you assign my first task to me?”

  “I’ll do you one better,” she assured me. “I’ll assign all of your tasks. Return to this wishing well upon the completion of your community task, and I will present you with your self task.”

  Another shadow of doubt crossed my mind. Somehow, this felt dirtier than her offer to find my supposed goddess. “I’ll have to check with Alberta—”

  She extended her great wings to their full width, a marvelous and terrible thing to behold. “My offer is exclusive. Either I assign all of your tasks or none of them. Choose quickly, moon child. You’re running out of time.”

  Sure enough, my body ached all the more, and my lungs felt tighter than before. Alberta’s orange aura glowed around me, and I floated upward without influence of my own accord.

  “Okay!” I assented quickly as the woman in gold drifted deeper in the wishing well. “I accept. Bond us before it’s too late!”

  The woman clapped her hands together. A wave of golden magic pulsed through the water. When I looked up, I finally saw the surface of the pond. Alberta stood on the shore, but when the woman in gold’s craft called to her, Alberta dove in with exceptional form. She swam toward me with long strokes, making light work of the troubled water that I struggled to move in.

  The woman in gold greeted Alberta with a curt nod. “Alberta. It’s been a while.”

  Unlike me, Alberta exerted no effort to reply. She simply spoke to the woman as if well-practiced in underwater conversation. “I know better than to make unnecessary deals with you, Eudora.”

  “As does your apprentice,” the woman in gold—Eudora—replied.

  Alberta looked impressed. “She didn’t fall for your goddess of birth crap?”

  Eudora frowned. “If I recall correctly, you fell for it many moons ago.”

  “I was young,” Alberta said. “I needed a definition of who I was, and you took advantage of this. Will you bond us or not? My apprentice’s help is wearing off.”

  “I agreed to the bond,” Eudora said. “Are you both prepared?”

  At this point, I was too deprived of oxygen to bother asking further questions. All I wanted was to get this over as quickly as possible so I could return to the surface and draw a breath of fresh air.

  “I’m prepared,” I gasped.

  “As am I,” Alberta added in a firm tone.

  Eudora clasped my hand. As soon as her golden skin fused with mine, everything went black and the wishing well took me into its depths.

  7

  I regained consciousness on the shore of the wishing well, soaking wet and covered in dirt. Worse, my clothes were nowhere in sight. Neither was Alberta. The dawn’s light crept through the trees and moss. I had no record of how much time I’d spent beneath the surface of the creepy pond versus resting in the dirt. The pond glistened innocently, no longer silver like the moon. If anyone happened upon the space, they would never expect what lay beneath.

  I pushed myself to my feet. With one spell, I cleaned most of the dirt and mud off of myself. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get rid of the swampy smell the water had left in my hair. With another spell, I summoned a clean set of clothes for myself. Getting dressed was a doozy though. Every muscle ached as though I had participated in a triathlon the day before. The residual effects of being submerged in the wishing well were not one bit enjoyable. Alberta was crazy to do this on a regular basis.

  I pushed aside the moss that hid the wishing well from the rest of the world and limped off. The mortals of Yew Hollow had not yet awoken, save for those who liked a particularly early start to the day. As I made my way back to the town square, I passed Mr. Darian, a wiry guy in his sixties who jogged the perimeter of our town every morning. We exchanged polite nods, though I didn’t miss his look of consternation as he got a whiff of my musky smell.

  I passed by the yew tree to check if Morgan was still sleeping beneath it. She wasn’t, but some strange instinct told me that nothing bad had happened to her. If she’d faced trouble, I would have felt it.

  Belinda, the bakery owner, nodded and waved from the window as I passed by her shop. She had probably begun cooking and baking a couple hours ago to prepare for her day. I waved back and glanced up at Noelle’s apartment. As usual, the circular window was frosted over. That meant Noelle had made it home without consequence from the first failed bonding spell.

  I walked all the way back to the Summers house. All was quiet. The sun peeked over the horizon like a child peering into a parent’s bedroom to ask for an early breakfast. Orange and yellow light washed across the long fields. The fresh scent of earth made its way to my nostrils.

  I slogged up the porch steps and let myself into the house. The sisters had not begun their usual morning arguments. They must have been sleeping—

  “Gwenlyn?” called a groggy voice. “Is that you?”

  I trudged into the living room. Morgan had awakened from the couch. She rubbed her eyes, tossed her blanket to the ground, and got up to hug me. When I winced, she stepped away.

  “Why do you smell like wet garbage?” she asked. “What did Alberta do to you? I woke up and you were gone.”

  “She took me to a wi— a place in the woods,” I corrected myself. Alberta might be crazy, but she deserved to keep the secret of her wishing well. “She said she wanted to do the bonding ritual her own way. I’m not sure it took though. I don’t feel any different. Nothing’s happened.”

  Morgan took hold of my arm and flipped it over to examine the soft skin of my wrist. “Oh, you’ve been bonded. Look here.” She pointed to a raised symbol on my skin, etched in what appeared to be gold ink. “Did your ritual happen to involve a kelpie?”

  “A what?”

  “A kelpie,” Morgan repeated herself. “They’re shape-shifting water spirits.”

  “Alberta called it a Naiad.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “The names vary depending on the creature’s origin, but I suppose Naiad is considered more glamorous. It doesn’t matter which way you spin it. All of those water nymphs are dangerous. They love a good trick. Tell me you didn’t make a deal with it.”

  “She offered to find my birth goddess, but I said no.”

  Morgan let out a sigh of relief. “Good.”

  “But I did agree to let her set all three of my ritual tasks.”

  Morgan’s jaw dropped. “You what? Why the hell would you do that?”

  “It’s Alberta’s fault!” I went into defensive mode before I knew what I was supposed to be defending. “She’s the one who dragged me away from the yew tree and into the woods. You were sleeping!”

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” she demanded.

  “I didn’t have a chance,” I argued. “Your aunt can be quite persuasive. I’m pretty sure she poisoned me last night. I feel like I swallowed the entire damn pond.”

  Morgan paced from the fireplace to the window. “Wait a minute,” she murmured under her breath. “A pond? Kelpies…” She snapped her fingers and spun to face me. “You were at a wishing well!”

  “I—uh—no, it was just some weird lake—”

  “Gwenlyn Bennett, don’t lie to me.”

  “Fine!” I threw up my hands in frustration. “It was a wishing well! Alberta said not to tell, okay?”

  “And you just do whatever Alberta asks you to, huh?”

  “Look, all I’m trying to do is get through this stupid ritual,” I snarled. “It hasn’t even started, and it already feels like it’s not worth my time or effort. Alberta is my mentor, so yeah—I kinda have to do what she asks because otherwise, I’m screwed! I can’t be a part of this coven. I
can’t be a true Summers. I can’t have a family—”

  Morgan grabbed my shoulders and cast a calming spell before I had time to process what she was doing. Her aura pulsed through me, and the thoughts spinning through my brain slowed down to a pace I could process.

  “I’m sorry, Gwen,” Morgan said as she released me. “I didn’t mean to scold you. Wishing wells can be incredibly dangerous, and I didn’t know there was one close to Yew Hollow.”

  “You can’t tell Alberta I said something,” I pleaded. “I can’t break her trust this early on.”

  “I have to report the well to a ,” Morgan said. “The location of every discovered wishing well has to be recorded. It’s a matter of safety. I won’t tell Alberta it was you.”

  “But she’ll know,” I said. “She was the only person who knew of that well until she shared it with me. Please, Morgan. What’s the harm in giving Alberta this one thing?”

  Morgan chewed on her bottom lip. “Okay. I’ll hold off on reporting the wishing well, but only until after you’ve completed your ritual. I’ll deal with Alberta then. By the way, where is she? Isn’t she supposed to be helping with your first task?”

  “I’m not sure I was assigned a task,” I admitted. “I passed out as soon as Eudora—the kelpie or Naiad or whatever she was—touched me. I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing. I woke up alone. Alberta had gone.”

  “This is what I was afraid of,” Morgan said. “Alberta’s unreliable. You have to find her and ask about your first task.”

  “Where do I start?”

  Morgan raised her eyebrows. “I’d check the apothecary.”

  “We have an apothecary in town?”

  “Yeah, except we call it Mary’s Teas and Spices.”

  Mary’s Tea and Spices was owned and operated by a member of the coven whose name was, in fact, not Mary. Selene Summers was a witch in her late forties and a mother of two magical rugrats. Her daughters, Puck and Peony, were five-year-old twins. Selene’s attributed her successful “geriatric” pregnancy to a particular blend of herbs and spices she sold in her shop. Women from all over the country visited Selene for her expertise on the matter and to thank her for her services, so it wasn’t unusual for the shop to be busy with pregnant or hopeful mothers. Little did they know that Selene infused whatever she sold them with fertility spells. The shop itself had been named for one of the original witches of the Summers coven.

  The overwhelming smell of spices hit me full-on as I entered Selene’s shop. I caught whiffs of cinnamon, turmeric, dried garlic, and rosemary all at once. The shop was small and dark. Selene claimed sunlight dried out her herbs and dampened the natural flavors. Shelves lined every wall, each one stocked with glass jars to display the contents within. Alberta was nowhere to be seen, but Selene herself spoke to a customer at the counter near the back of the shop. I browsed her wares while she finished her chat.

  As I sniffed some chocolate and chili tea leaves, Puck and Peony tore out of the storage room and through the shop. Both blonde and tan, like little beach bums, they careened around the knees of unexpected customers, laughing raucously when their victims tripped or yelped at the twins’ sudden presence. Puck crashed into one of the shelves and sent a glass jar flying. The jar shattered, and mustard seeds exploded across the floor. Selene looked wearily around her customer to see what damage had been done.

  With a quick snap, I put a slug spell on both Puck and Peony. Both twins’ bare feet skidded to a less dangerous speed. They moved in slow motion, arms pumping as if they were still sprinting a marathon. The mortals in the shop laughed. Unaware of the spell I’d placed, they thought Puck and Peony were putting on a show after disturbing their mother’s business.

  “I got it,” I told Selene, grabbing a broom from behind the counter. “Finish your sale.”

  “Thanks, honey.”

  I picked up Puck under one arm and Peony under the other then hauled them up the creaky stairs to Selene’s office. I didn’t lift the slug spell until I’d shut the door to the shop. With another snap, I dismantled the spell. Peony skidded to a stop, but Puck, who didn’t realize there had been a change of venue, ran full speed into the filing cabinet. She banged her head against an open drawer and fell flat on her back, staring at the ceiling with a dazed look on her face.

  “Are you dizzy?” I asked her.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Sick?”

  “Yeah. Can I puke?”

  “No.”

  I placed my palm gently across her forehead and used my aura to feel for the injury underneath. She had a minor concussion, so I cast a basic healing spell. After I’d finished, Puck sat up and shook her head like a wet dog.

  “Whoa!” she said. “My brain feels super good!”

  Peony wacked Puck on the back of her head. “You stupid! Mom’s gonna kill us for breaking that jar. I told you we should have gone to the park instead.”

  “The park’s boring.” Puck tackled her sister’s legs and pulled Peony to the floor. She sat on Peony’s chest and ruffled her hair.

  “Get off me!”

  “Say I’m older than you.”

  “You’re not!”

  “Yeah, but I want you to say that I am.”

  I picked up Peony by the collar of her T-shirt and lifted her away from Peony. “Don’t you two have anything better to do than terrorize your mother’s business? Isn’t school in session?”

  “Mom says the mortal teachers can’t give us a rounded education,” Peony said, puffing out her small chest. “She home-schools us between customers.”

  “I see.” I planted my hands on my hips. “I have to get back downstairs to help your mom clean up the mess. Can I trust you two not to get into any more trouble up here?”

  “No,” Puck said. She flopped over the desk chair, flipped upside down, and pulled her lips apart with her fingers. She stuck her tongue out and waggled it around.

  I shot a tickle spell at the five-year-old. She burst out in laughter and fell off the chair. The thump echoed to the floor below as Peony rejoiced in my takedown of her sister.

  “Everything okay up there?” Selene called up from the store.

  “Everything’s fine!” I called back, then faced the kids. “Don’t make me a liar. Chill out for a second.”

  Puck performed a chain of cartwheels around the room. Then Peony jumped in and grabbed her sister’s ankles. They somersaulted end over end like a pair of circus performers.

  “Good enough,” I muttered.

  I left the twins to their antics and headed downstairs. With the broom from behind the counter, I began sweeping up the broken glass and mustard seeds as Selene finished up with her customer.

  “Thank you so much, Selene.” The woman, close to tears, clutched Selene’s hand. She carried a bag of spices around her wrist. “You don’t know what this means for me and my husband.”

  Selene smiled serenely. “I hope it helps, sweetheart.”

  “I’m sure it will,” the woman replied. “You’ll be hearing from me either way.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  The customer took her leave, following two other women through the exit. However briefly, the shop was empty of mortals. Selene blew out a sigh and observed as I swept the mess into a pile.

  “Everyone’s gone,” she said. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Oh, thank goodness.” I tossed the broom aside and snapped my fingers. The glass jar repaired itself and returned to the shelf it had fallen from. The mustard seeds separated themselves from the dust and dropped herbs on the floor then whooshed upward into the empty jar. The lid sealed itself shut with a satisfying pop. “I hate cleaning like a mortal.”

  Selene chuckled and checked her mustard seed inventory. “Thanks for helping out with the twins. Are they duct-taped to the desk upstairs?”

  “Tempting,” I admitted. “But I left them to their own devices—”

  Another thump and a loud “ow!” echoed from the floor above.

&n
bsp; “—which might have been a mistake,” I finished.

  “They’re a handful,” Selene said, “but they do like you. Anyway, what can I do for you, Gwen? Anyone who handles Puck and Peony with as much grace as you do deserves a bag of tea on the house.”

  “Actually, I’m looking for Alberta,” I told her. “Has she come into the shop today?”

  Selene hummed a disapproving note under her breath. “She was here this morning, picking up her usual stash. In and out like a change in the wind.”

  “Do you know where she might have gone?”

  “The church, I suppose.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Alberta goes to church?”

  Selene scooped chocolate chili tea leaves into a little plastic bag. “She does indeed, though not for religious reasons. See if you can stop her from causing trouble, will you? She carries on just like the twins do, without regard to consequences.”

  “What’s she doing?” I asked.

  She gave me a long look as she handed over the bag of tea. “You’ll see.”

  There was only one church for all of Yew Hollow, non-denominational and established by the Summerses themselves when mortals began to move into the area and live alongside the witches. It shared a pocket of land with Yew Hollow’s synagogue and mosque. All three organizations managed to coexist peacefully. In fact, the priest, the rabbi, and the imam were all best friends and could often be seen having coffee at Belinda’s Bakery on weekday afternoons.

  On a Tuesday, the church was rather slow this early in the morning. The occasional retiree visited to pray quietly in the pews or light a candle for a loved one, but that was about it. Personally, I didn’t have a whole lot of experience with churches. Long ago, a few of my foster families had required our presence there on Sundays. I never understood the draw, seeing as no one bothered to answer my prayers to get me out of those crappy foster homes.

  I dipped my finger in the holy water at the door and almost crossed myself. Then I caught sight of Alberta; she passed by the larger fountain full of holy water and casually dumped a vial of some undefined liquid into it. The holy water briefly turned orange then returned to its normal color. I hastily wiped my finger off.