Of Frost & Cinder (Old Version)

A Spell to Remember

An eerie chill spiders across the back of my neck, "You think I witnessed a murder or something? Like someone using magic to do something horrible?"

"It's a possibility." Beck shrugs. "I mean, just think about what you might know. The risk of betrayal is minor in comparison."

"Well, whatever it was, I can't do this without you. I know I promised Olivian that I wouldn't get you involved, but you're the only one I think I can trust." I glance around at the flickering candles, then to the bowl of drowning petals. "I'm just not sure how to process all of this. Just yesterday, my biggest concern was quitting theatre. Now, I'm like, reading weird Latin spells and pretending to be Sabrina. Well, Sabrina with a talking wolf instead of a cat."

He snorts, and I give him my best set of pleading eyes. "Please, can you just...stay?"

He grunts something inaudible and I refrain from celebrating my persuasive skills as he reclaims his spot inside the circle. He lifts his hand to brush back his loose hair, "Don't waste my time, got it?"

I mimic him by sitting in the circle again and ready myself, spell in hand.

"Okay, smarty pants, how do I pronounce—"

"Way-room ray-way-lot-toom..." He says the phrase slowly. "Repeat it, and really focus on what you want to do. Focus on the outcome."

I nod, taking a moment to breathe out, breathe in, and breathe out again.

"Verum Revelatum...Verum Revelatum..."

I repeat this this phrase twice more and try to focus as directed, but part of me is still nervous at the boggling thoughts of who, what, when, and why.

"Verum Revalatum," I finalize, and when I open my eyes, all I see is Beck. Nothing has changed; not his hard stare or the way his face is spread with boredom.

I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to kick this bowl across the room and set the ring of salt on fire, but I can't move.

It didn't work. I had a choice, two solid options of reverting back to my old life or continuing on with the new one, but now I have no choice. Now I'm stuck in limbo.

"Guess magic isn't for everyone."

We don't say anything for a moment; we just stare at the flickering candles until one of us does something. The first to move is Beck. He grabs the paper to re-read the instructions, and then I stretch to relight one of the burnt out candles.

He's mumbling the instructions to himself, but I let the words drown out against the faint hum of buzzing heater; I hear the sound, feel the rush of the hot air blowing my hair across my back, and something ignites inside me. It's strong, it's fiery, and it somehow crumbles the impossibly heavy weight of defeat.

I shut my eyes tight, preventing any sort of tears from cascading down.

"I need to remember," I say, opening my eyes to meet his. I repeat the statement, and for the first time, I actually mean it. "I want to remember you."

Beck's eyes are strong on mine, his face unreadable. When he opens his mouth to reply, he pauses and points to the floor. The circle of salt is hovering above the carpet, rotating around us like a ring around Saturn. I touch a floating grain with the tip of my forefinger, and it jettisons across the room like debris in space.

And as if I pressed a button, a blinding light bursts from the bowl of ground Agrimony.

"Whoa," I whisper. Rays of white and gold glitter between us, filling my room with a brightness and warmth equavalent to the sun.

"This is normal right?"

Beck snorts. "What part of spell casting is normal?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do now? The directions didn't say anything about drinking a liquidified sun."

He grabs the paper, skimming over it quickly, "Read, drink, repeat. That's the last direction."

Read. Drink. Repeat. The words ricochet through me. Read. Drink. Repeat.

"Verum Revelatum...Verum Revelatum..." I say, and as I pick up the bowl, the sunlight is sucked down into the bowl, spinning into a tornado of yellow petals and tea-colored liquid. As the tornado spins faster, the flower disintegrates like sugar in hot water.

I lift it further and as soon as the bowl touches my lips, I drink.

The syrupy liquid swells inside my mouth, and instantly, I want to vomit. The concoction tastes like dirt and apricots, but I force myself to down every drop.

I keep telling myself that I need this—that my desire to learn the truth is stronger than my tolerance for disgusting textures. I repeat this internally, and though barely, it helps combat the bile threatening to rise.

"Verum Revelatum," I finish, and when the bowl hits the floor, the floating ring around us plummets, scattering little pebbles of salt across the carpet.

"Well, that was—" Beck clears his throat, "—something."

I half-nod at him, distracted by the sudden tingle swelling beneath my skin. The sensation that pulses through me is bizarre, like my blood's been lit on fire, but I can't feel the pain of a burn.

"I feel weird," I wheeze. The deeper I try to breathe, the hotter my body feels.

"What's the matter with you? Conall?"

I shake my head, coughing out hot puffs that taste like smoked meat.

Beck moves swiftly out of my room, and for a brief second, I think he's stranded me to choke on my own air. But, he returns just as quickly as he left, and he's shoving the bowl into my face.

"It's water. Drink."

Through fits of coughing and gasping, I manage to consume some of the water without choking. I shiver as the rush of cool water courses through my system, like jumping out of a hot tub into a swimming pool. I can even imagine my lungs steaming with the contrast in temperatures.

"You good?" He asks, still crouched in front of me.

"Yeah, I think—" My stomach gurgles, and reflexively, I lurch forward, vomiting out a thick, silver-tinted tar.

"Sorry," I whisper, and when I look up at Beck, his eyes are shut tight, the inner corner of his brow twitching towards his nose.

He grumbles, "Friggin witches."