Chapter 30 Starlight and Silver

30

Starlight and Silver

"WE HAVE TO get to Hecate House. Immediately. Can you transfer us?" Belle was already halfway down the stairs, grabbing her jacket from the banister and yanking it onto her arms.

"Will you slow down for just one minute? Belle, for the love of…" Rune came careering behind her, grabbing her shoulder to spin her around.

"Are you kidding me? Did you just witness the same thing that I did?" She pulled her hair out from underneath her collar with one hand, struggled to keep her balance as she shoved on a shoe with the other.

"I saw it. But we can't just tear in, all powers blazing, and accuse the heads of the coven of—"

"Take your pick, Rune." She shook him off. "Of committing and covering up the murder of their own brother? Of blaming the whole awful thing on their other, entirely innocent brother? Of inflicting forbidden hexes on their third sister, my own grandmother, to change memories, to change the whole trajectory of the magic system? Am I missing anything? How about building the legacy of a coven on a selfish, vicious lie, and an obsession with tradition, all for their own gain?"

Rune placed a hand on each of her shoulders gently, grounding her. "Just think about what you're saying, for one second. You're talking about something that's about to shake the wicche world in Selcouth and beyond."

Belle's temper flared. "I don't care about them. Right now, all I care about is my family and Arty. You saw how broken he was, watching that play out. He's lived his whole life alone, plagued by guilt because of Morena's choices and Bronwyn's actions. And those two hags have somehow ended up on top after leaving a trail of nothing but brokenness behind them."

"Belle, please. Think about this. Think about your mentorship, the grimoire challenges, you still have…"

"I couldn't care less. I never want to see that book again. The whole of Selcouth is standing on the shoulders of two witches who will stop at absolutely nothing to snatch more power and cover their tracks."

Rune rubbed his face, scratched at the stubble across his jaw. "I know, I know. I'm just trying to think rationally."

"I'm afraid we are way past rational and straight into delusional levels of blind revenge."

Belle reached for the front door handle and slid the chain across to open the door. But it promptly relocked itself of its own accord. She turned to see Artorius at the top of the stairs, a hand outstretched, using his magic to fasten it shut.

"Rune is right, Belle. I will not allow you to put yourself in danger for me. You've been through enough, and that was only the surface of what the Gowden sisters are capable of."

He slowly made his way down the stairs, gripping onto the banister as he continued. "You are rushing to think of your grandmother and of myself, for which I am most grateful. But you are failing to consider other consequences of this new information," Artorius continued. "Think for a moment."

Realisation marked her face. "Morena and Bronwyn. It's them, isn't it? Sabotaging my lessons. They want me gone, by any means necessary."

"I suspect that explains why Morena was so reluctant to allow you to even have a chance at endarkenment in the first place," Artorius pointed out.

"But then, why did Bronwyn encourage the mentorship?" Rune asked.

"I really miss when I didn't have to consider dark magic traps and killer witches as part of my day-to-day contemplation," Belle said, more to herself than anybody else.

"Bronwyn evidently had ulterior motives up her cloak sleeve in pairing us. She may have assumed it would be easier to take us down together in one fell swoop. She knew that your failure would ensure mine, too. The coven would shut its doors to me forever if I failed to provide adequate mentorship to you. She underestimated us both in many ways. And of course, we've had a helping hand along the way."

He gingerly took a step to the bottom of the stairs and continued.

"Didn't you say it was your sooth stone that encouraged you to accept the offer of mentorship? That it seemed to be guiding you towards something this whole time?"

Belle faltered. "I did."

"I regret to side with him over you." Artorius rolled his eyes in Rune's direction, who muttered something about wondering why he bothered. "But I do think Mr.Dunstan is right. We should not rush to Hecate House just yet. We may have one final witch to speak to first. And one final challenge that we are yet to undertake."

Belle stared up at the ceiling and inhaled deeply. "If you're about to suggest that the next logical conclusion is communicating with my dead grandmother…"

"The grimoire couldn't be clearer," Artorius said, recalling the Necromancy allegory.

Eternal sleep, peaceful gift,

When death has come, soft and swift.

Another room across the way,

Ne'er far from those who have to stay.

Call with heart to gently rouse

Their bleary eyes, the hazy drowse.

Part of thine self, a splintered soul,

Unbroken since the bell did toll.

"It is asking you to communicate with someone who has passed, someone who was part of thine self, a splintered soul."

"It must be her, Belle," Rune agreed. "Your stone, her protection spell, the Gowdens, Artorius, everything we just watched in the mirror…Your grandmother is the missing link to all of this."

"But Morena's memory curse…She won't remember a thing."

"Outstanding magic washes away when death comes to take a witch. She will have returned to her true self when her eyes closed to rest," Artorius said softly.

AS THE THIRTIETH moon of October lay low and charmed in the charcoal sky, as though it were intrigued by their endeavours, Artorius offered an arm to Belle. Conjuring the spirit of Alvina Blackthorn was not something that had been on Belle's bingo card when October first arrived, but it strangely felt a perfectly fitting end to what had been a month of unabridged chaos across both her magic and non-wicche-related life.

"The fact that it happens to be Samhain morning will certainly work in our favour, I would wager. The veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest for Halloween," Artorius explained, as the three unlikely friends moved the furniture aside to clear the living room floor. Once armchairs and clutter had been stacked at the walls, Belle, Rune and Artorius (just about) sat cross-legged together in a circle.

"This is new magic to you and me alike, Belle. I cannot bestow any prior experience. Rune, I suspect you've dabbled in the art of Necromancy once or twice? You look the sort."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think it's the coat," Belle said, gesturing to his signature long leather jacket.

"Oh, stop it, you two," Arty shushed them while he placed an array of black, white and navy blue candles around them.

In Belle's lap lay a small pile of seemingly random items, but each held an important meaning. She'd cut a handful of pale pink roses from the garden, always her grandmother's favourites and always blooming through the trellises of her garden before she'd grown too old to take proper care of them anymore. A delicate china teacup that she'd been particularly picky over, never one to drink her tea from anything so clunky as a mug. Belle had summoned it from her mother's dresser at home, hoping that Bonnie wouldn't notice until she could explain properly. A gold lipstick tube that she'd saved when they cleaned out Alvina's house. And finally, her glasses, which Belle hadn't really known why she so desperately wanted to keep in the end. They just felt far too intrinsic a part of her grandmother to ever let go of.

"Any last-minute words of wisdom?" Belle asked, stretching out the sides of her neck and dropping her shoulders, adjusting her seated position.

"Keep it simple. This kind of magic relies on heart far more than head. Refer back to that previous summoning spell created in your Incantation lessons to avoid complication. It works under the same principles, especially while the veil is paper thin."

"Will I just be able to…talk to her, as if she were here?"

"All being well, yes. Of course, this does rely on the deceased wanting to be in attendance, but we can safely assume from your grandmother's dabbling with Praesentia Pretego that she will."

"How do we know that this isn't going to take some awful turn?" Rune asked sceptically. "Everything else significant that you've used your magic for recently, there's been…interference, to say the least."

Artorius shook his head. "This kind of magic comes with a certain amount of privacy around it. They—the sisters, that is—won't even know that this is taking place, they won't have the time or the foresight to affect it."

It was reassuring news. "In fact, I suspect you'll have more success if you undertake this one as a solo endeavour, my dear. Come along, young man."

"If it's all the same to you, I should probably oversee—"

"I have a little sherry in the cart." Artorius waved, dismissing Rune's retaliation as he rose unsteadily. "You can tell me all about your intentions towards Belladonna here while we indulge."

It worked like a charm.

"Intentions? Artorius, you have got some bloody nerve…" Rune shot up and quickly exited the room behind the old warlock to argue his corner, snicking the door shut after him.

She was alone. Belle held her breath as she cast a finger towards the selection of candles that Artorius had left, lighting them in a flash of small fires. She didn't allow herself to overthink, didn't allow herself to question the possibilities. She had never needed anything so much as she did in that moment.

Chanting in a low whisper, with only a few tweaks, the words of her previous transference came to her naturally. Supernaturally.

Grandmother of mine, I call to join here,

Wherever you are, journey to near.

Company precious, spirit so strong,

Appear to me now, a love everlong.

And before she could stop herself, against the quiet rippling breeze that plumed the curtains: "Please, please, Nan. I need you. Are you there?"

An air of spectral, silvery movement, as though breathing warmth into cold night air, swayed so faintly that Belle rubbed her eyelids. Airy glimmers, an apparition of barely there presence, crept into her surface of consciousness and sight. And there she was. Her grandmother, her silhouette made of a veil so delicate and impossibly fragile, it seemed an invisible, beautiful silk.

"Hello, my love."

She was just as Belle loved to remember her. When her childhood had woven them so preciously together by walking to the park, by baking flapjacks and by playing horses on a rolled-up duvet cover. Neatly curled hair no matter the time of day. A lilac cardigan that she'd knitted herself, a floral collared blouse smartly pressed underneath. Painted shell-pink nails and the scent. It was the first thing to hit Belle when Alvina's spirit appeared, before she could register even seeing her, being here with her. The scent of bluebells and clean laundry, faint flowers from always being in the garden. Belle clasped one hand over her mouth and the other on top of that. Her heart broke and mended a million times over, all at once.

"Oh, darling, don't cry. There's a good girl. Here, dry those eyes, petal."

Alvina's spirit reached out and offered a delicate scalloped handkerchief through the air for her tears. Belle held back, not wanting to find that touching her grandmother's hand brought coldness or emptiness. But as her fingers closed around it, it felt as real, as tangible and solid, as the items already clasped tightly in her hand.

"I can feel it…Does this mean I can hug you?"

Alvina laughed softly. There it was, the sound she remembered. "Of course, darling. How I've missed hugging my girl."

Belle flung her arms around her grandmother and felt herself held by her for the first time in so many years. The warmth, the texture of her hair against her face, the scent, the softness of her clothes. It was all the same. Just as it had been her whole life.

"I miss you. I miss you so much." She spoke as best she could, but her voice failed her. It was overwhelming, the raw combination of grief and gorgeous, intoxicating nostalgia holding her in loving arms.

"Oh, I miss you, too, Belle. I miss you and your mum. But I'm here, I'm always here."

"Are you okay?"

"What a funny question," Alvina chuckled. "Of course I'm okay. It's peaceful. Not so different but happier. And not far away. Like when you used to be playing in the garden while I watched from the kitchen window. Now I watch while you're busy building a little life for yourself, making wonderful things happen."

Something told Belle that she didn't need to know any more than that about what came next. The idea was comfort enough.

"Darling, we haven't much time. A spell like this, it won't hold for long, even on Halloween. But I'm so proud of you, Belle. Look at you, grabbing onto your magic with both hands."

Belle laughed through tears, grasping onto her grandmother's hands, feeling them soft in her own palms again. The knuckles, the ridges and the painted nails, the simple wedding band.

"I saw everything," Belle said. "I'm with your brother, Artorius, and we saw it all. We used the scrying mirror, and we saw what she did to you. What Morena did. And what Bronwyn did to Savaric."

"I know, love. I've been waiting for you to meet me at this moment. I was trying to guide you towards the truth, but there were so many steps to get here, towards the answers that you needed, and I'm so proud of you for finding them."

"Why did she do it? Why did Morena curse you and Arty like that?"

"It's complicated, darling." Alvina shook her head with soft pity. "Families always are. They say blood runs thicker than water, but magic runs thicker than blood. Morena always had a deep loyalty to Bronwyn. They were always closer than the rest of us."

"So she chose her over all of the rest of you? Even after what Bronwyn did to Savaric?"

"I think she always saw something in Bronwyn, could tell that her magic was perhaps the most potent of all of us. Oh, don't look at me like that, love. You know yourself that Bron is a force to be reckoned with. She always was. Even as a little girl. We all knew from the moment she arrived that she would grow up to have an extraordinary wealth of magic at her fingertips, and Morena knew it better than anybody. They shared a great deal of secrets while they grew up. Morena was more a guardian to Bron than our parents were, a protective-older-sister loyalty that's hard to understand. I often felt a little left out, truth be told." Alvina chuckled under a sigh. "Before she knew it, that fierce loyalty Morena always felt for the youngest of us had spiralled, grown into something that had her trapped in lies, too deeply involved with Bronwyn's mistakes to ever turn her back on her."

"What happened to them, between the day that they ran away and their rise to Selcouth? How did they manage it?"

Alvina sighed, shaking her head. "It's a story I've never quite known the full version of. I'm not sure anybody does, except for Morena and Bronwyn. As you saw in the mirror, both girls turned to complex, dark magic to cover their tracks. But I have since learned through whispers on the other side that their lies snowballed to a size greater than they ever expected. Morena spoke truths into the earth itself to shape what the coven knew about our family—a most manipulative spellwork that is highly forbidden. As a result, Selcouth lost the truth of the five Day siblings in its history, and they could flee as forgotten sisters. I was left on my own to begin everything again. They only existed in my mind as uncertain gaps that I couldn't fit together. But I met your grandfather, and I put my questions behind me."

"I'm so sorry, Nan. I wish I'd known everything you went through. I wish we'd talked about it."

"Even I didn't know, Belle! It wasn't until I passed over that the hexes Morena created were cleared and I could see what had truly happened. None of it really mattered then, anyway. And besides, I had a good life in the end. The very best. I made happiness for myself."

Alvina cradled the side of Belle's face.

"What am I going to do, Nan? How do I handle all of this?"

"That's up to you, love. All I want is for you to be happy and safe. I've seen everything that's happened recently."

"Can't you just tell me exactly what to do?" Belle asked pathetically. "You must have some kind of all-knowing, all-seeing wisdom that you can dish out."

"Of course. All you have to do, the precise instruction you have to follow…is trust your instincts." Alvina winked.

Belle rolled her eyes and laughed. "That's not helpful at all, Nan. My instincts feel as though they're made of crushed-up cornflakes after the past month. I don't know what to think anymore."

"What I can tell you is that there are more secrets to Hecate House, Belle. What you saw in the mirror, it's not the end of this. In fact, it may only be the beginning."

Belle groaned. "I was afraid you'd say that." She suddenly remembered the confession that she had to make. "And I lost my stone, Nan. Or it was taken. My summoning spells can't find it."

Alvina gave her a soft smile. "Not to worry. Precious lost things will always turn up when we need them to." She paused for a moment and held Belle's face in her hand, stroking her thumb across her cheek. "Whatever you decide to do will be the right decision."

"If I'd just used my magic properly from the beginning, if I hadn't let it slip away from me, this whole thing would be—"

"Probably exactly the same," Alvina interrupted, chuckling. "Fate can't be twisted and turned as you like, Belle. What's meant for you is meant. No matter which turn you take or hurdle you stumble at, you'll always end up on the path that's meant for you. Love, let the dust settle on choices that you've made or that you didn't make. Leave all those different lives behind and make peace that this is the right one. Tell yourself, this is how my story is supposed to go, but I am the one who can write it as it's supposed to be."

Belle rested her head on her grandmother's iridescent shoulder, savouring the peace of being beside her again.

"And if that story just so happens to involve saving your magic and righting a few wrongs along the way for others, then all the better for it," Alvina added, turning to kiss her granddaughter on the forehead. "Tell Artorius I'm sorry, will you?"

"He won't want you to say that."

"Tell him, anyway," Alvina said softly. "I loved him dearly before it all." She smiled at Belle fondly. "You're doing so well, love."

Belle felt a swell in her chest that could only be described as a burst of sunbeams, of all-consuming, binding love. She revelled in it, like sunlight on her face. Then the feeling of a tangible, solid presence next to her slipped away like shadow in a changing light. The hands around hers faded away.

The spell unravelled, and the wisps of a delicate, cloudy figure, of starlight and silver, drifted across the candles, carried away on a breeze that took the flames along with it.