Rowan considered it for a moment but shook her head. “No—I don’t want to be alone for this.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
They grounded together, raised power together, cast a protective circle together, but when it was time to say the words, the task was Rowan’s alone.
She set the page containing the forgetting spell into a brazier at the center of the altar and let it burn as she began to chant.
What was done, now undo,
Bring everything back that was true,
By the power of three by three…
Rowan hesitated, understanding that when she closed the spell, nothing would ever be the same again: the burden of every action of significance.
As I do will it, so mote it be.
37
Memories returned.
A memory of a boy popping out from behind a stall to tackle her. It was a game they’d played dozens of times over the years while their mothers worked the festival, but this time it was different. Her body had been changing, and so, it seemed, had the game. Her cheeks flushed. She pushed him off and ran.
A memory of a late-night study session. His hand getting close as he moved to erase something, and her body leaping in response to his touch.
A memory of a ride on a Ferris wheel. A look on his face like he had something to say but could not figure out how to say it.
A memory of writing his name and drawing frustrated X’s across it, frantically, over and over, until the X’s gave way to hearts, and she cursed herself for being as hopeless as all the other girls fooled by quiet boys with soulful eyes.
A memory of working the wassail table. Gavin had come by, asking if they ever had orange sugar cookies. She’d gone straight home that night and worked on the recipe until she’d mastered it.
A memory of a long drive she wished would never end,because in the car, he was hers, and hers alone. As she wished it, the car turned off the road so they could stop and look at a waterfall.
A memory of kisses stolen in hidden corners, on long walks in the woods, behind bleachers. They were Romeo and Juliet. Their families would never approve, and so it was a secret—their secret. He’d slid his class ring onto her ring finger, but it had been too dangerous to wear it, so she’d kept it in her pocket at all times.
A memory of more than a kiss. They were in his Subaru, old even then, the most ignoble of all places for one’s first time, but it didn’t matter, because it was with him.
A memory of a confession. Magic was real, and she wielded it. When he expressed doubts, she sat up and kissed him, sending rippling waves of pleasure through his body. “Do you believe me now?” she’d teased, and all he’d been able to do was stare, open-mouthed.
A memory of a plan. A plan to save her grandmother’s house. She waited for him outside, alone in the cold, as he did his part—talking to his father, which he insisted would work, but if he failed, he promised he would bring back something they could use in a spell.
When he appeared at the rise outside the McCreery house with a photo in his hand, her heart fell. He’d held the picture tight to his chest as she assembled the altar.
“Is this real?” he’d asked. “Are you really going to cast a spell on my father?”
“This is real, Gavin. I told you I have magic. Ishowedyou I have magic.”
He shook away her words. “You kissed me. I felt something. I feel things every time you kiss me. I feel things every time I think about you kissing me. That isn’t magic, it’s just…love.”
The confession had floored her. Love? Her throat dry, she said, “Love is magic.”
“You can’t keep saying normal things are magic,” said Gavin, his voice beginning to rise. “Like that makes this all okay!”
“This is okay, and if you need me to show you something you can’t explain, away—here!”
She raised her hands to her sides, calling up a wind to surround them, howling in a gale to match her pain and frustration that he didn’t believe her. It blew with such a fury that it snapped a branch off a nearby tree, startling them both. Her hands dropped, and the wind ceased. His eyes were wide as he stared at her, silent.
Finally, she held out her hand. “Can I please have the picture? The spell won’t work without it. I need a link to him.” But Gavin was still silent, and he took a step back. “Please,” she said, her voice quivering. “Can I have the picture?” He took another step back. “Gavin, please don’t go. Please.”
