"Something like that," said Olivia. "It does have to be destroyed to keep everyone safe, but your magic has become intrinsic to the watch. Your magic is the only thing keeping it active."
"What does that mean exactly?"
"It won’t leave you with the same mental after effects as an extraction, but if we destroy the watch, you will lose all your magic," Alastair said, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible, but regret came through in his voice.
I felt that regret too as I stared at the watch. I’d grown to like being Magic. I also liked — and this was really hard for me to admit — being part of the community. I even liked Runa. Plus, who could complain about having to eat vast quantities of sugar to stay in shape? Being de-magicked also meant I would only be given limited access to MagicLand, if I was given any access at all.
But they were right, the risk of keeping the watch active was too great. And my parents deserved to know the object that had ruined them, that had broken our family to pieces was no more.
I looked up from the watch.
"Okay. Do it."
"Cassie, are you sure?" Rafi asked. "We could safeguard the watch again. We can, can’t we?" He passed a questioning look between Mr. T and Olivia.
"Thanks, Rafi," I said, "but it’s too dangerous. I’m right, aren’t I?" Olivia nodded. "Will I still be able to see my parents?"
"Of course. The portals will be inaccessible to you, but we wouldn’t stop you from seeing Simon and Chloe."
The hidden subtext was that I wouldn’t be seeing them within MagicLand. Which also meant other relationships in MagicLand were going to suddenly be long distance ones. If they continued at all.
"Let’s get this over with," I said gloomily.
Alastair, his voice shaking with emotion, instructed me to grasp the watch and to imagine it breaking, rusting, falling apart, to picture all magic cascading out of it and flowing away.
I expected it to hurt. I expected it to feel like the contraption the Mauvais had me in or Banna’s Vacuum Hex from my second test. But instead, as I visualized the watch tarnishing and its gears locking tight, it simply felt like any sense of importance and belonging was dribbling away from me. There was no pain, but there was dismay, loneliness, and discontent.
Alastair had been talking me through the process, encouraging me and providing a focal point, but at some point it must have gotten to be too much. His voice trembled, then cut off and Mr. Tenpenny stepped in.
As I followed the guidance from Mr. T, the watch glowed with a brilliant golden light that slowly faded until the light extinguished. The gears jammed to a halt and the ticking hands fell silent and still. To my eyes, the object that had always appeared highly polished and worth at least a thousand bucks now looked like a hunk of rusted refuse you’d pass by if you found it discarded on the side of the road. A broken thing ready for the scrap heap.
"Set it down, Cassie," Runa said. Was that a slight catch in her voice? I like to think so.
I placed the watch on Olivia’s desk. What my mind had seen had only been an illusion. Although it had stopped ticking, the timepiece still looked in perfect condition. But whereas before it had hummed with an electric energy, it now sat there cold and lifeless, nothing but a pretty collectible.
"Try something, Cassie. Anything," Rafi said.
Returning to my old favorite, I tried a Shoving Charm on the watch. There was no tingle in my fingertips, there was no sense of power, and not even a cupcake wrapper rustled on Olivia’s desk. Like the watch, I was out of commission.
49 - PARTING GIFT
A DISENGAGED NUMBNESS took over me. Despite the group around me, I felt alone. Other than that, I felt nothing. I knew the loss of both the new world I’d found, and possibly my relationship with Alastair, would hit me soon enough, but for now I just wanted to go home, pour a beer, and receive chin rubs from Pablo.
"If someone could take me through the portal, I’d like to go home now."
"If you could just wait outside a moment," Olivia said with cool detachment.
I’d expected, or at least hoped for, a little resistance. Perhaps someone saying, "Oh no, you don’t have to leave right away. Stay and finish your cake."
But it would seem a non-magic wasn’t even welcome in the same room as them. Were these people so different from the Mauvais? At least he had made no effort to hide his prejudice.
I strode down the hall to stare out the window. The tourists had gone for the day, but two Yeoman Warders were walking together. One held a clipboard, while the other — judging by his hand gestures — was giving a tour. Someone must be taking a test, I thought, and again a wave of loneliness hit me. Everyone seemed to have their purpose except me. I swore when I returned to Portland, I would get my full license to work with the dead. But was that what I really wanted? Would Mr. Wood even keep me on after seeing Daisy’s handiwork?
I thought of my parents. Could I follow in their footsteps and work at chasing down bad guys? Given my methods, I doubted any police force would allow me on the payroll.
The office door creaked open, startling me from my morose reverie.
"Cassie, if you could," Rafi said, crooking a finger to signal me back inside.
"What is this about?" I asked once I reached him.
"They’ve got a little going away gift for you."
Despite everything, my mouth watered. A big basket of Fortnum & Mason treats would make a fair dent in my sullen mood.
I followed Rafi into the office. It seemed ages since I’d first entered this room. And just as on that first day, there was no Fortnum & Mason basket waiting for me. Talk about disappointing.
Mr. T stepped up to me. Like, he was really close, and with neither of us comfortable with infringements on our personal space, it was more than a little awkward. I shifted back a pace.
"You’ve touched a lot of lives in the short time you’ve been with us, Cassie," he said. "I can definitely say I wouldn’t be alive without you."
"Twice."
"Twice," he said, a delighted glint in his steely eyes.
Next, Tobey came up to me. This was getting more than a little creepy.
"You’re still the biggest pain in the butt I’ve ever met, but you’ve done a lot for me." He flicked his fingers and a cluster of glittering snowflakes danced in the air.
"And you know I’ve been touched by you," Alastair said, approaching me with a knowingly coy grin that made my cheeks blush.
"Thanks, I guess. That means a lot." As far as gifts go, though, it was a little lame. Maybe they’d at least let me take the rest of that Victoria sandwich. "But what the hell is going on here?"
Runa stepped up. "Your magic is in these three people. Your parents too, but they’re weak and I think we can manage this without them."
"I thought my magic was destroyed with the watch."
"The magic that was within you and the watch, yes," Runa continued with that annoyed tone she took on when I hadn’t quite grasped whatever lesson she was trying to teach me. "But you can’t kill off the magic that’s twined itself within the fabric of others’ cells. Your magic has been in Busby since you first woke him. And the magic in Tobey is purely yours."
"By the way," Olivia said, "we will be discussing that later."
"And?" I prodded. This was a nice trip down memory lane, but I failed to see the point.
"Are you always going to be so thick-headed?" said Runa with mock exasperation. "Boys, do what you will, I can’t keep having this conversation."
Busby took hold of my right hand and Tobey grabbed my left. Rafi stepped up and gripped onto our clenched hands with his. I honestly had no idea what was going on and flinched at their touch, but the three of them held tight. My first thought was: If one or both of my hands end up broken, someone is getting kicked. Just as I pictured whose shins would feel the toe of my boot first, something that felt like warm honey flowed from their palms
and into my skin.
They were giving a non-magic magic.
"Are you? I thought— Isn’t this illegal?"
"We’re only giving you a little of the magic you gave us," Mr. T said as if this was something that happened every day in MagicLand. "Returning a borrowed item isn’t against the rules, is it, Olivia?"
"Not that I’m aware of."
"And since you’re relatives, it should stick quite nicely," said Runa.
After several very awkward moments, the flowing feeling stopped. Rafi let go, then Tobey and Busby released my hands. The air on the skin of my palms was cool, but underneath the surface was a familiar tingling sensation. Tobey leaned forward and sniffed. When he leaned back he wore a satisfied grin and I just knew he was going to lord this gift over me for the rest of my life. A nuisance I could live with.
"Thank you." I didn’t know what else to say. Well, other than, Can we have cake now?
After passing a knowing glance between me and Alastair, Rafi took it on himself to call the meeting to an end. "Let’s leave these two. Probably a lot to discuss. Shoo, shoo."
"This is my office, Rafi," Olivia said.
"Well, I don’t think they’re going to steal anything. Are you?"
Alastair had come up beside me and taken my hand, adding a buzzing thrill on top of the dancing tingle of my magic charging back into my cells.
"I can’t guarantee that cake will still be here when you get back," I told them.
The others left, Mr. T giving an approving glance back at us before he departed.
Alastair stepped around to face me.
"You know, thanks to all those absorbing capsules, I’ve pulled in a fair amount of your magic." He grinned. "Would you like it back?"
I shrugged with feigned nonchalance. "It would probably be the polite thing to do."
Alastair moved in closer, his free hand slipped up to caress my cheek. He hesitated just a moment, then leaned in.
From the desk, I swore I heard a tick.
"Did you—?"
Before I could finish my question, Alastair’s lips were on mine. And there was more than one kind of magic in that kiss.
50 - THE END?
THAT YEOMAN WARDER I’d seen from the window? Turns out it was Nigel. He’d been killed by Banna when he tried to fight the Mauvais out of vengeance for killing Winston. So, when Banna died, the killing spell she’d used on Nigel had reversed.
Giving way to the unusual circumstances, the Tower powers-that-be allowed Nigel to retake the test he’d failed over twenty years ago. Thanks to my constant work with him, he’d learned his Tower of London history front and back. Nigel, I am proud to say, is now a fully-fledged Yeomen Warder of Her Majesty's Royal Palace and Fortress the Tower of London. Good luck, trying to fit that onto a business card, Nigel.
My parents regained their strength. It took time, but they have now returned to MagicLand and live in a small house next to Lola, who dotes on them like two new pets. Although, she doesn’t dress them in silly costumes. That I’m aware of.
Catching up has been a long process and only once they were in full health did I tell them of the childhood I’d had. They blamed themselves, then they blamed Alastair and Morelli, but eventually, with Mr. Tenpenny’s help and a lot of cake from Spellbound, they were brought around to accept it had kept me alive. Still, I think the new phone (which actually works in MagicLand!) for me and the elaborate cat tree for Pablo that showed up from them a couple days later was a bit of a guilt gift. Pablo’s not complaining.
Morelli, now that he doesn’t have to make me feel like a pile of fly attractant, has fully renovated the apartment building. It currently boasts a blooming garden complete with vegetable beds and a chicken coop. The first floor beyond his apartment has been turned into his crafting studio/workout room. I’ve been given full ownership of the entire upper floor.
As for Alastair, we’re stupidly happy. As in we make people gag with our happiness. He’s joined me in my new spacious penthouse — hey, it’s the top floor, so it counts as a penthouse, right? When I helped him unpack his belongings, I swear to you I never came across a single matching pair of shoes or socks. In a fit of making a home together, we’ve spent far too much time magically changing the color of the interior paint, the kitchen style, and the furniture. Pablo is so confused.
Alastair has turned his old studio in MagicLand into a craftsman’s workshop where he specializes in magical timers in the shape of various animals and people, while also constructing larger works on commission. He is under strict Cassie Rules to never, ever make a watch.
Mr. Wood, thanks to Morelli, was back on his feet in record time and astounded his physical therapists with his quick recuperation. He still claims, to anyone who will listen, it was all the bacon that helped speed his recovery. As a housewarming gift, he gave me and Alastair a hand-crocheted granny-square blanket. Or at least I think that’s what it is.
The funeral home is doing well, but my job is now being performed by Daisy. It was hard to pass the torch to her, but I needed to free up some time for training. Yes, more lessons, more classes. But this time they’re part of joining the Magical Detective Squad, Rosaria Division. Mr. Tenpenny is serving as mentor to me and one other new recruit: Tobey Tenpenny. Mr. T insists our styles and approaches compliment one another and has threatened to propose Tobey be my partner when we graduate. Is it too late to change my mind about this career choice?
As for the other MagicLand love lives, Mr. Tenpenny and Fiona finally wed in a small, late summer ceremony. Olivia and Runa are making full and regular use of the Portland-London portal. I know every time I see Runa strolling toward the portal in one of her frilly, pastel shirts, she’s heading off for another date. She insists Olivia says the delicate colors suit her, but there’s never any mention on what Olivia thinks of those god-awful frills.
And Tobey’s love life? Merlin’s beard, I swear if he asks me one more time which ring would suit Daisy or the best way to make a memorable proposal (unicorns have been mentioned), I will slip him one of Gwendolyn’s color-changing potions to turn his hair purple and his skin blue with green polka dots. I mean, he wants a memorable proposal, right?
I didn’t tell anyone what I heard before that kiss in Olivia’s office. When Alastair and I had spent a very thorough amount of time making sure he’d returned my magic that day, I had checked the watch’s hands. Was there a slight tremble in the minute hand or had it merely been a trick of my kiss-drunk eyes?
I can’t say. No one else showed any concern, nor felt any magic coming off the thing, so I let HQ take care of it. Rather than smashing it to bits, they put it on display in a magic-proof case as a reminder of the danger they’d allowed themselves to fall into.
I pass that case whenever I report to HQ for an exam. It doesn’t happen every time, and perhaps it’s only my overactive imagination, but every now and then I detect the click of a turning gear.
* * *
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The Untangled Cassie Black Page 31