41 Quinn
Quinn
One week before the fall
I’ve done it.
I’ve discovered a whole world of hidden spells.
I’m running now, frantically putting one foot in front of the other, careful to avoid roots and rocks.
My breath consumes me. Aspens whir past. Ideas try to wriggle free from my muddy mind because it’s not just late spring outside.
It’s like there’s a kind of late spring inside me too.
I know now. There is so much more that this magic can do.
Finally, my feet bring me to his doorstep, and he is there, watching me catch my breath. My hands drop to my knees, and my chest expands with the air I’m desperate for. He is patient, as he always is, and eventually, we go inside, where he brings me a glass of water.
“I did it,” I say. I tell him everything, how the book filled right up with spells that have been hidden for generations, spells my mom doesn’t even know about.
The blood-inked words flooded every corner of every page with what I can only assume is the scrawl of past witches.
Because I believe now that we really are witches.
And this isn’t just a book. It’s a grimoire.
It contains hundreds of witches’ spells.
He listens, nodding along, letting me spill my discoveries.
It feels like I’m offloading a heavy stone with every breathless revelation.
I tell him about the curses and the hexes and spells to change the weather and spells to shapeshift into a bird and spells I don’t even know what they are for because I couldn’t read fast enough before they disappeared again.
Some were written in clear, plain English, and others in languages I don’t know, in script that was barely legible.
With every word I tell him, I feel more electric, like lightning itself.
“And your crown jewel?” he asks once I’ve exhausted my list. I’m not sure what he means, and it must show on my face because he says, “The mind manipulation spell. The one you thought would be in there?”
I’m still not sure what he’s talking about, but then I realize he must be referring to the mind-healing spell. Manipulation makes it sound ugly, but it has the potential to be so beautiful. It has the potential to change people and, most essential of all, it has the potential to help my friends.
“Yes,” I tell him. I dream of what I can do with that spell.
I will start with Tanner, probably, because, after the other night, I’m afraid of what he might do.
Then Joey’s mom. Then Collingswood. Then my dad.
Then, who knows? There are millions of people who need healing. This magic could change the world.
“I can’t wait to tell my friends,” I say. And it’s true. This changes everything. I finally realize that even though it would mean telling them I’ve broken the rules and facing their confusion and disappointment, it’s still a whole world of magic they didn’t know existed. They deserve to know.
He smiles, and I see a hunger in his eyes that I’ve never seen before.
“I’m not sure they’ll understand,” he says.
“You went behind their backs. You lied to them. I think it has to be just you and me now. We need to stay together. I want to be by your side when you change the world.” He brushes a stray hair away from my cheek and looks down at me, cupping my neck in his hands. “I want to change it with you.”
Then he runs his fingertips up through my hair, over my shoulders, and down to my chest. His palms flatten against my rib cage, right above my heart, which is still skittering.
His eyes meet mine as he leans down to meet my eyes at the same level and says quietly, “Now, I want you to tell me about bloodspell.”
I can’t hide my surprise. I know what bloodspell is. I saw it in the spell book. But I don’t know how he knows about it. Somewhere from the depths of my brain, I can hear Joey saying, “We have a responsibility to keep the magic safe.”
But Joey isn’t here. And maybe he’s right. Maybe it has to be just the two of us now.
So I tell him.