“And you read a wolf spell?” he asked slowly, and she could feel his anxiety mounting again.
“We were talking about animal spells, and I thought to look at the one to change a wolf into a man, to look for the warning symbol…I saw none on that page.” She looked up into his eyes. None of the details mattered. “I started to read what I thought was the right spell to my friends, not worried because there were no wolves around, but stopped when I realized that it was the wrong spell… and well, it was just the four of us…or so I thought…”
“What spell did you cast, Lady Antonia?” he asked through clenched teeth.
She winced and took a step back.
“A spell to change a mortal, non-magical man into a werewolf.”
He stared at her for the briefest of moments, mouth agape and his cobalt eyes turning nearly black. “There is a bloody spell for that?” he yelled. “Who in their right mind would write such?”
“I do not know,” she whispered. “It is old, and it should not have worked anyway.”
“Why is that?”
“It is supposed to be said three times under a New Moon. I only said it once.”
“Apparently once is enough,” he yelled again.
Antonia took another step back. She did not blame Chedworth for being angry.
“Also, nothing is supposed to happen until the next full moon. That is when everything is to take effect. I don’t know why you are having changes now.”
“Because it was only partially finished,” he bellowed.
Antonia frowned. “Do you think so?”
“How would I know. I am not a bloody witch.”
She really wished that he would quit yelling but understood why he did. Each angry word brought such a pain to her head. Not only that, but his pain and fear flooded her being and mixed with her own regret and horror of what she had done. It was almost too overwhelming, and she had to keep backing away as her body swayed and her stomach churned. This is what happened when in a room full of people, but she’d never experienced the like from only one person. Not that Antonia could blame Chedworth, and maybe she felt it so strongly because all his negative emotions were directed at her.
Antonia swayed again and grasped a tree to keep from falling.
“Are you ill?” he asked with concern.
She raised her arm and pointed. “Please stand further way.”
He kept stepping back until he was far enough that his emotions were not fully impacting her.
“I will fix this,” she finally said.
“Do you know a spell to undo it?”
“No, because it wasn’t a completed spell,” she reminded Chedworth.
“What of the spell book you were reading from? Something must be in there.”
Antonia nearly groaned and explained how she’d tried and that the wording was faded.
“Can’t you make it reappear?”
She stilled. Why hadn’t she thought of that. “Of course.” Antonia rushed out of the clearing, through the gate and all the way back to the house before she hurried to her chamber where she grabbed the book.
Quickly, she flipped to the pages then stood close to the window to make out the writing. It was no better in the light of day.
She then set the book aside and drew out parchment from her writing desk and started to pen a spell. Her hands shook and she could barely read her own handwriting, but this must be done. She then gathered her crystals and candles and placed them on the table with the book in the center. Antonia was just about to read the spell when there was a scratch at her door.
Now was not the time to be disturbed, but she called for them to enter anyway.
