“You’re not afraid I’ll break it?”
He gave her a brief smile. “I hope my technology is strong enough to withstand you for a minute.”
While she drew, Simon undid the clips behind the TV and carefully put it down on the desk. Shanna handed him the phone with the saved grid and watched, bemused, as he clicked some options on the TV, then tapped away on the phone, murmuring to himself, until the grid lit up the TV screen in its full glory.
Shanna gasped. “How did you do that?”
“Easy transfer when you have smart devices you can connect,” he responded. “Will it do?”
“Oh, yes.” She got to work, positioning her main crystal—an amethyst, for divination—in the middle, surrounding it with small pieces of agate and bay leaves. At last, she took the Wellington postcard and placed it in its designated spot on the star-like grid.
When she lifted her eyes, Simon quickly averted his.
“It’s not going to bite you,” she teased softly. As she looked back at the grid, though, her smile faded.
Could she even do it? Theory was easy. Practice was failure, and possibly setting the room on fire. At least for her.
“Have you started already?” Simon asked.
“No.” She let out a long breath. Casting spells had been so much easier with Gran, but she was far away. And Shanna had no one else here except for a rebellious teenage girl, and …
She looked at Simon. “Would you like to help me?”
“I can? Shouldn’t I be trained?”
“You won’t need to do much. I’ll do the main part, and you can help me focus. With the bond, that should work.”
He scratched the back of his head. “Okay.”
His quick agreement caught her by surprise. “Will you go draw the curtains? A little, so it’s not too bright.”
He did so, then returned to the desk.
“Now, stand here.” She led him to one side of the grid and positioned across from him. “Hold out your hands.”
Her own shook as she reached for his, as if she were afraid of his touch. Well, perhaps she was, but for reasons entirely unconnected to spellcraft. She twitched as their fingertips met. “Close your eyes.”
Shanna took a deep breath and intertwined their hands, drawing them up. She hadn’t noticed before how nice he smelled—like amber and pine, like her own secret ingredient to a spell meant to calm and relax her.
Only, instead, her heart beat faster, aware of the contact, remembering the time he took her hands in his and smiled at her underneath the flower arch, saying he’d marry her.
Stop it. Don’t think about it. Relax.
“Should I do anything else?” Simon whispered.
“Stay quiet. Empty your mind, if you can.”
She reined in hers; forced out all other memories, and focused on the postcard and what Gran had told her of Mom. Simon’s presence faded to a comforting background support; she felt him, and her heart still beat a happy tune, but she used him to focus instead of distract.
Find Mom. Find Mom. Find Mom.
Peace descended upon her mind like a soft blanket, separating her from the outside world, enveloping her and the energy she tried to manifest. Time ceased to exist, and all the sensations became muted, as if she were safe, untouchable, eternal. She remained in this state until the energies boiled out, spreading out into the world like a wave and bringing her back to full consciousness.
She glanced at Simon, wonderfully boyish and sweet with his closed eyes and a scrunched-up nose, as he continued to focus.
“Simon,” she whispered.
His eyes fluttered open.
