Chapter 19 Bonnie Come Back

19

Bonnie Come Back

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING away with it that easily," Ariadne nudged as they both clutched coffee mugs in the kitchen. Jinx wove her way through their legs, pleased to have everybody convening at home. "I need a hot love story to live vicariously through."

"I'm caught bickering with a guy outside and it's big news, while your calendar is constantly filled with gorgeous people taking you out for delicious meals and them being grateful for the chance. I think you're still winning."

"Are you joking? You know better than anyone that I attract lunatics. Last week I spent an entire evening hearing about a woman's lifelong dream to live on her grandfather's DIY barge."

"That sounds like a pretty appealing plan. Maybe we should live on a barge. Sail far, far away and live off the land. A diet of only potatoes."

"Not sure the cat would love a life on the seven seas."

Jinx let out a loud, disapproving meow as if to agree.

"There's still nothing to tell," Belle tried to assure her best friend once again.

Ariadne raised an eyebrow. "At least tell me he's being good to you."

"He is. He's…protective."

"Sounds like delicate code for ‘psycho.'?"

"Not in that way. He's…looking out for me?"

"I don't like how secretive you're being about it. It's weird for us. You're making it weird."

"It's not that I'm being secretive. I'm trying to give it some time, see where it goes. I owe it to myself to give it a proper try and put my all into something for once." Ariadne didn't need to know that Belle wasn't strictly referring to a relationship.

"Fair enough," Ariadne replied a little shirtily, staring down into the bottom of her mug.

"I promise, by the moon and the stars and the sun, that I still love you the most forever and ever, amen."

Ariadne seemed appeased. "He did seem nice. Sensational hair, if nothing else."

Belle nodded, conceding that perhaps he did have good hair. "Yeah. He is nice. A little big for his boots sometimes, maybe."

Ariadne scoffed. "He's massive. The boots must be enormous."

ALMOST TWO WEEKS down and still all six of the grimoire's allegories remained unlit. The lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll, so Belle had indulged in Rune's expertly brewed revitalising potion. She had to hand it to him, he was a talented alchemist. Maybe not entirely beauty over brains after all. The generous gift brought her back from the brink of burn-out and gave her a renewed determination to build momentum. She was resolute that she would see some strides in her magic before the next moon rose.

On the night of the thirteenth moon, Artorius insisted on whipping up an enormous midnight "snack" to build her strength. It was becoming clear that the old man believed in the restorative power of food as a separate kind of magic, and to be fair, it usually worked. That night, he'd guided her through to the kitchen on his arm as though presenting her to a ballroom, and with a small flourish of cookery spells, a perfect feast had appeared. She'd practically dove head first into the steaming porridge drizzled with honey and the towering bowls of fresh fruit before downing what could only be described as a vat of hot chocolate.

"We shall return to Incantation work for tonight's lesson. Improvement in Earth Sorcery and Clairvoyancy feels satisfactory for the moment, to revisit as our deadline approaches. For now, we shall…mix it up, as you say." He grinned.

"Let's go back to transference, Arty," Belle said, reaching for a pain au raisin. The old warlock had been insisting that she use the less formal nickname. She was pleasantly surprised to find that the friendliness felt right, and he was pleased that it made him sound "rather hip."

Artorius seemed surprised, glancing up from the enormous newspaper which he held out in front of him, one leg neatly crossed over the other. He peered above the top of his glasses at her words. "You're sure? I was going to suggest something less taxing."

Belle nodded, decisively brushing pastry crumbs from her jumper. "I'm experimenting with this new thing where I try to believe in myself a little. I was almost there with transference last week. Sort of."

Reaching the sports pages, Artorius carefully folded his paper.

"Very well. But first, a little warm-up to start us off tonight, Miss Blackthorn. Some manifestive magic, perhaps. Pansies, pancakes, a polar bear…although I would perhaps advise against the latter. Selcouth's health and safety regulations towards me may struggle to approve any large mammals. Stick to ferret or smaller. Shall we adjourn to the attic?"

The old man was fully settled into his mentor role and was taking to it like an owl to the night sky. No longer did he politely suggest they try something. He was in fact rather bossy at times and apologised on a number of occasions when he found himself getting carried away enough to earn a scowl from Belle.

When her magic was warmed up, pleasantly balmy under her skin, Artorius gave her the nod that it was time to tackle transference. They had agreed to start with summoning by transference, inviting someone to join them before Belle gave it another go for herself. Pen lid between her teeth and notebook propped on her thigh, she scribbled the incantation quickly. Artorius watched in interest and admiration, rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back. She tucked the pen behind her ear and examined her handiwork.

"We await with bated breath," Artorius encouraged.

Belle closed her eyes and sought out calm. Magic rose once again like mercury in a thermometer.

Mother of mine, I call to join here,

Wherever you stand, journey to near.

Company precious, enduring love strong,

Come to me now, this is where you belong.

Belle felt the rush of power course through her veins, molten and flowing. She flicked her pointing finger. In a fraction of a moment, Bonnie Blackthorn appeared before her, solid and real. An older version of Belle, everyone always said, although shorter, her hair a little fairer and much curlier. The curls were usually kept at bay with a brightly coloured scarf or a headband, and inevitably featured some form of greenery plucked from her garden—sometimes intentional, more often not. But the same dark eyes as her daughter, and the same kind but ever so slightly worried expression behind them. Plus, of course, the enormous Irish wolf-hound who was perpetually by her side. On arrival, Wolfie lolloped over to Artorius for an immediate sniff, followed by an approving hand lick.

Bonnie rushed to her daughter and grabbed her hands desperately. "What's wrong? What's happened? Belle, are you hurt?"

"What? Nothing, nothing. Mum, I'm fine."

"You are? You're fine? Why did you summon me?" The panic didn't leave Bonnie's face.

"Mum, take a breath. I'm okay, look. Everything's fine."

Appeased, Bonnie sighed with tangible relief. "I thought something awful had happened. You've never transferred me before. I thought you needed me, I thought—"

"I was practicing transference incantations. I needed to make someone appear, and who else would I have brought?"

Bonnie, still clasping her daughter's upper arms in fear, closed her eyes and steadied herself, loosening her grasp a tad. "Gosh, love. You gave me such a fright."

"Sorry. But hey, successful magic," Belle offered as compensation.

Bonnie pulled her into a tight hug. "Now that I know you're not in imminent danger, yes, I'm proud of you," she said as she kissed her daughter on the head. "Now, where are we, exactly?"

"Ms.Blackthorn. It's a great honour to have you here. I've read so much about you, your abilities in herbal magic are the stuff of legend," Artorius said, taking a soft step forward.

Bonnie's eyebrows jumped, chin shooting back as she realised who was introducing himself. "Mr.Day." She took a measure of the room around her and darted her eyes back to the man who lived there.

"This is Artorius, Mum. Everything's been going well."

"Well, I'm glad to hear it," Bonnie said with a polite smile, her tone unusually clipped. It was clear to Belle now that her mother had reservations about her daughter's mentor and had simply been keeping them private thus far. They were written all over her face. "I appreciate everything you're doing for my daughter."

"No trouble at all, my dear. I am of course delighted to be in her company. Such a bright witch, I can see it already. A flawless summoning transference tonight…It's promising, very promising. I'm thrilled to witness her progress," Artorius said with his usual wholesome enthusiasm.

Belle noticed a subtle shift in her mother's posture that echoed her own when she had first met the man. It changed from defensive and questioning to etched with pleasant surprise. She gave her mother the smallest, almost indistinguishable nod that she hoped meant Trust me, he's very strange but kind of great.

"Sorry again to pull you from…whatever you were doing with no warning. What does that even feel like?" Belle asked, wrinkling her nose at Bonnie.

"Summoned transference? The same, a little like you'd imagine being sucked up through a hoover would feel."

"Does it give you a warning?" Belle asked.

"Of course, it requires consent." Bonnie laughed. "Like getting a collect call from someone at the other end and accepting the charges. Otherwise, you'd have wicchefolk zipping and zapping unexpectedly all over the shop. Obviously, I wanted to find out what you needed from me; it's no trouble, love."

As Belle opened her mouth to encourage her mum to stay for tea, the attic lights overhead flickered. A moment later, they cut out entirely, plunging the loft into cloudy, violet darkness.

"I'll be darned. That blasted electricity board," Artorius muttered.

Bonnie flickered in front of her daughter's eyes, which were still adjusting to the darkness. Belle shook her head, assuming her contact lenses had slipped.

But it happened again, just then. Like watching a bad television signal fall over her own mother. Bonnie dipped in and out of sight like a camera flash.

"Mum, are you all right?"

But Bonnie was gone.

Silence fell abruptly across the attic, so sudden and blanketing that even the ambient sounds, the whirring and buzzing of the attic, paused in surprise.

"Did…did my spell unravel?" she asked Artorius, clueless as to what had happened.

Just like that, Bonnie reappeared. She was back as though nothing had happened at all.

But something was wrong. As soon as her feet landed back on the floorboards, Bonnie stumbled. She was gasping for breath, ghostly pale in the pitch-black attic.

"Mum. Mum? What's happening?" Belle cried, her voice snapping. She reached out to hold her mother, to keep her close.

Before she could take hold of the sleeve of Bonnie's dress, her mother vanished again. Belle's hand closed around darkness.

Belle's heart sped up, thumping against her ribs. She lunged forward over and over, grabbed out to try and hold on to her mother. But Bonnie continued to vanish into the black, then materialise again for one desperate, helpless moment.

"Belle." Bonnie choked out the word each time.

"What's happening? Arty? What's happening?" Belle's voice grew louder, more frantic. Wolfie barked, bewildered.

"I don't know! I don't know, Belle!" The old man, like Belle, lurched towards Bonnie in the fraction of a second she showed herself.

Bonnie reached out with a desperate, terror-stricken expression, grasping onto her daughter's wrist for only an instant each time. She pulled with so much force that it was as though she was being tugged away, something snatching her backwards, relentless. Belle fought to hold on to her mother's arm, wincing as the pull of skin on skin burnt all the way down her forearm.

"Please, Mum. Hold on."

Belle was crying now. Hot tears soaked her face, blurring her vision. The old man strained as he fired up his limited strength to support Belle's attempts, the pair yelling in frustration, fuelled by adrenaline as they tried to seize Bonnie firmly back to them.

For a moment, it felt as though they had her. But losing the strength of the opposite pulling force, Belle was sent flying backwards, stumbling over her own feet and crashing into one of the overloaded shelves. Heavy books thudded downwards all around her. An iron cauldron fell with force onto her shoulder. Her whole body thumped against the wooden eaves. But it didn't matter.

Ignoring the pain, Belle hurried to her feet and hurtled back towards where her mother had been. She fiercely cleared her wet eyes with the back of her hand, steeling herself to continue the fight.

But now there was nothing. No more flickers came. Bonnie had gone.