Chapter Thirteen

8.45 p.m.: saturday 30 october

Nr. Den Hoorn, Amsterdam

297 miles and 18(+1) hours and 15 minutes until the wedding

Kay didn't exactly go to sleep. The car was small, the seat not particularly comfortable, and she wasn't feeling so stoned now that she could have slept draped over a wall. So, instead, she snuggled up into the corner as far as she could, while remaining beneath the seat belt, and closed her eyes.

Or, at least, she kept them mostly closed. She couldn't help opening them a crack, just enough to peer through her lashes and watch Harry. It was so dark out now, nothing much to see other than the lighting alongside the roads and the dusting of snow across the flat land, with the occasional hint of windmill – usually the modern kind.

The yellow lights flashed into his hair, making it look like it was kindling to flame every so often. He'd sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and there was a furrow in his brow again. She wondered if this was his normal driving face. All tense concentration. So serious. He'd not had a licence when she knew him before, though he'd been taking lessons. She'd imagined him taking her out in his car when he eventually got one and them making out in the back seat up at the local viewpoint.

She knew what his kisses were like now. She could conjure the sensation of his tongue sliding along hers. His long fingers tightening in her hair, the sharp pleasurable tug on her scalp. She shivered at the memory.

Harry glanced over at her and she shut her eyes that extra millimetre, so he didn't catch her faking it. She heard him fiddling with some of the controls and then some awkward shuffling before a soft weight landed on her lap.

His coat. He'd just put his sorcerer's coat of many pockets over her because he thought she was cold.

She shifted with a murmur, to hide the sudden stiffness of her surprise, and he made a gentle hushing noise and proceeded to tuck her in one-handedly. Little incremental tugs to smooth the material out and raise it up her body, towards her shoulders.

Had she ever hated the sight of this coat?

Yes, she had. About twenty-four hours ago, she'd thought it was utterly ridiculous and pretentious and irritating. A bludgeon of negativity to hammer down all the positive feelings that bumping into him had brought about – excitement, desire. Perhaps he hadn't been so wrong, trying to get her to hate him so she didn't hurt so much.

But now …

Now she knew it suited him perfectly. Bright and warm, brimming with pockets full of sweet and creative things. And probably his mobile phone too.

She took in a deep breath, filling her lungs up with the scent of him, and it worked better than the weed she'd accidentally ingested. She dozed off.

A jolt and a bump made Kay's head knock against the door frame. Her head really was going through it that evening.

She twisted away, blinking as she realised there was a light flashing, and cold air coming into the car.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust and take account of the fact the car was tilted at a strange angle. Through the windscreen, everything looked the same – dark sky and tiny floating flakes of snow. But through the passenger-side window, she could see a long barrier at a right angle to them and when she tried to move in her seat, gravity announced that the car was not in its usual four-wheels-on-the-ground position.

‘H-Harry?' she called out croakily, looking over at the empty driver's seat. ‘Harry?' she shouted louder, panic lacing her voice as she struggled to free her arms from underneath his big coat and find the button for her seat belt.

‘I'm out here, Kay. Are you all right?' His muffled voice came to her from behind the car.

What the hell? Had he needed to stop and take a wee? Why would he park the car on a bank like this, though? She felt like she was in a fun house, and everything was the wrong way up.

She pressed the button on the window and leaned out, trying to see where he was. ‘What's going on?'

Footsteps crunched in the snow and Harry appeared at the window, hanging onto the car. His cheeks and nose were pink, his face pinched.

‘I hit a patch of ice and I couldn't get the car back under control. We spun and came off the road down this … lay-by? I think. It's like the hard shoulder, but it's got a barrier. I managed to shove it with magic so we missed hitting it, but I can't get the car back out now, so I'm trying to push it.'

She opened her mouth and then shut it again and rubbed her hand over her face. ‘Wow. I really slept through that?'

‘That'll be the drugs, I guess.' He gave her a chagrined smile.

‘Or the head injury— I'm kidding, Harry,' she said at his sudden look of concern. ‘Let's just get back on the road, yeah? Do you want me to get behind the wheel? I can give it some gas, while you push. I promise if we get unstuck, I won't drive off without you.' She made a cross over her chest and gave him a faux-solemn look.

His mouth lifted gratifyingly at the corner. ‘Yeah, that's a good idea.'

She unclipped her seat belt and opened the door, misjudging where the actual ground was so she fell out, rather than stepped out.

‘Easy does it,' he said, catching her, and she gripped his biceps hard to pull herself upright. She looked up at him; tiny snowflakes were catching on his pale eyelashes. One landed on his lower lip, and he swiped his tongue across it. ‘There. You can stand?'

‘I can.'

He dropped his hands and stepped back. ‘If the police come by and catch you behind the wheel, you'll be in big trouble, though. Maybe you shouldn't drive.'

‘Oh.' She wrapped her arms around herself. She was still wearing her own coat but missed the warmth of his. And she missed his arms. Missed him wanting to touch her. In the muddle of her memories from back at Leon and Alex's, she remembered him feeling bad that she'd been stoned while they were fooling around. That might have been why. Equally, it might be because they were currently stranded and had a ferry to catch. Priorities, Kay.

She shook her head and leaned in to the car to get his coat for him.

‘What other option do we have? You drive and I push?'

He pulled his coat on, buttoning up, the relief on his face evident, and for a moment she wanted to shake him. Fancy coming out here in the snow without his coat, just so she could keep snoozing, cosy and oblivious.

‘There's a good possibility you are the stronger of the two of us.' His smiled widened. ‘You broke apart a sofa bed with your bare … feet.'

She snorted, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she had used magic. Albeit unintentionally. ‘I appreciate that you're not a macho alphahole, Harry, you don't have to the labour the point. And we don't have to pretend that I, at five foot three, am going to pack more muscle than you.' She waved a hand to indicate his height.

‘It's possible, but even if we were both built like Alex, I doubt it would work without magic.'

‘Well, sure. You're still the best person to do the pushing then, aren't you?' She turned away and slid down the slope, only realising as she rounded the back of the car, how much pushing would actually be required to get it back onto the road again. ‘Wow. Good work finding the only bit of hill in Holland.'

He laughed and followed her part of the way, stopping at the boot, while she continued on up the other side to get in the driver's seat. Her head was a little swimmy still now that the fresh air was hitting her, but it wasn't like she was going to do anything more than put her foot on the accelerator and guide the car back onto the road.

‘OK, when I say go, just start gradually applying the gas. Take it easy so we can try to avoid it wheel-spinning,' he said, once she was in the driver's seat and had adjusted it so that she was close enough to reach the pedals and steering wheel.

‘Got it.' She started the car up and kept it idling, waiting for his word.

‘Go.' He grunted from behind and the car rocked slightly.

She glanced into the rear-view mirror as she pressed gently on the accelerator, building it. She could just see the top of his head as he pushed his shoulder against the back of the car. His grunts were getting louder, and the tyres were just spinning. Why wasn't he using his magic to help?

‘Ugh. OK. Stop,' he called out breathlessly and she watched him straighten and step back, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes as his chest worked.

She stopped and got out again, this time being a little more careful, so she didn't need rescuing. Harry looked like he needed someone to catch him .

‘It's too heavy,' he groaned. ‘And the ground's too slippery. The car can't find any traction.'

‘Why don't you use your magic?' she asked.

To his credit, when he dropped his hands, he didn't look at her like the enormous hypocrite she was, having spent nearly a day avoiding or deflecting him whenever he asked her that exact question. He shook his head. ‘I can't. Not on my own. I'm too tired.'

She looked at him properly then – not just with her crush goggles on – and realised he did look exhausted. And was it any wonder? He'd barely slept the night before. They'd been travelling nearly all day and he'd used his magic a number of times, most significantly doing the rune work for Leon, but also the umbrella, on the train with the little boy, and whatever surge he'd needed to avoid them crashing into the barrier. He'd piggybacked her across Amsterdam and then been the one to drive too because she was passed out. He must be really glad he let her tag along with him.

‘What are we going to do then?' she asked. ‘Call the road assistance people?'

‘We'll miss the ferry if we have to wait. Do you think you can summon enough of a push? If we work together …?'

She was already shaking her head.

‘Kay. Seriously? Why not? Is there a problem? Is that why you have that corn husk doll? Why you were outside Baba Yaga's on Friday?'

She should have known he'd be familiar with Madam Hedvika and her damn corn dolls. He was at the centre of the magical community, he seemed to know about everything.

‘Regardless of whether there is a problem with my magic or not,' she began stiffly, ‘it never would have been able to move a car. I'm just not that powerful. I haven't practised enough.' She let out a soft growl. ‘Look, I don't want to get into this now.'

‘Have you got something better to do?' he laughed incredulously. ‘We have to figure a way out of this and if we can help each other, why wouldn't we? Isn't that the reason we teamed up in the first place?'

She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I'm aware you've been more helpful to me than I've been to you, all right?'

He gave a somewhat unhinged laugh and waved a hand at the car. ‘Hardly. That's not what I was getting at. I just … If you're having a problem, you can tell me. I might be able to help.'

‘You think you can help me more than Madam Hedvika could?'

‘No. But I know what you're capable of when it comes to magic—'

‘Harry, don't,' she started, a pain in her chest twinging like an elastic band.

‘No, I know I haven't been around you since your gift came in, but even before that I saw you wield magic. You were able to pick up spells I'd spent weeks practising, within a day or two. Whenever we mucked about with our magic – you were right there with me – utterly capable. So don't tell me you're not a powerful witch. Two years younger and still not tapped into your gift, you could do the same magic as me. I don't think …' He bit his lip as he looked at her, the expression in his eyes wary.

‘What? Don't stop now. You're on a roll.'

‘Whatever your problem is with magic, I don't think it's anything to do with the power you hold, Kay. I think it's to do with how you feel about your magic. You were so looking forward to it coming in. And when it arrived, obviously it wasn't … what you were expecting—'

‘Wasn't what I was expecting? It tore my family apart,' she choked out.

‘The magic didn't do that,' he said softly. ‘Your gift didn't do that. It just exposed the problem that was already there. But you're so twisted up with guilt about it, that you treat your magic like it's a curse rather than a gift.'

Kay was breathing heavily, despite the fact he was the one who had just had an outburst. So much of that was true, but she didn't want to hear it. Especially not from him, when he'd not even been around for her during that time. It turned out that even if you knew you'd been unjustified in feeling such an intense level of anger at someone for so long, it wasn't so easy to put the habit of those feelings away. Especially when they were poking and prodding at a sore spot.

‘What would you know about it, Harry? You've spent a grand total of twenty-four hours with me since I got my gift. You don't know anything about how I feel about it.'

He'd not seen her use her gift even once. Probably on purpose, now she thought about it. That was why he'd had to send the note. He'd been worried about breaking it to her in person, about having a conversation with her about needing to go to Edinburgh, because she would have been able to see how he felt about her, if she wanted to. And though she could understand now why he hadn't wanted to risk that – if the strength of his feelings for her back then were to be believed – it still hurt to think it was true. Her gift had kept him away.

‘That's fair,' he replied. ‘But I do know what it's like to be at odds with your magic. I know I'm so lucky to have a legacy like Biddi and the Ashworth line, but it took me a while to reconcile all that with also just being me . To get comfortable with it.'

Kay tightened her arms even further around her chest. There had been no time to ‘get comfortable' with her gift or her magic, because as soon as it came in, it had blown up her life. It would have been like trying to get to know a terrorist. Everyone would have thought she was self-destructive and dangerous. Actively disregarding the damage she had done. That she could do.

‘Sometimes I even wished I could just be "normal",' he continued. ‘To not be a witch at all … and I've seen that you choose not to use your magic—'

‘That's what Madam Hedvika said I had to do. OK? She told me to stop using it, to clamp down on every impulse.'

‘Permanently?' His husky voice lowered to a barely audible murmur and her stomach lurched at the suggestion too.

Which was stupid. How was it possible to think she would miss something that had only ever caused her pain? That she'd never really experienced fully as part of her life.

‘No. Not permanently. Until I've figured out … until I know what the problem is. Because it's gone totally screwy. It shoots off when it shouldn't. Causes mayhem. Almost exposes me. It's a nightmare. It is a curse.' She pressed a hand to her stomach. If she pictured her magic as a well, then the water was poisoned. And leaking out into cracks. ‘I can't use it. She told me not to, and I need it to be fixed, because what if I ruin Joe's wedding? What if I end up hurting someone?'

‘You won't—'

‘Harry. I think the sofa bed malfunctioning was me. You could have broken your foot or sliced open an artery or something. I'm a menace.'

He was quiet for a moment, his face so solemn it made the weight pressing down on her chest heavier. ‘I get that you're scared. Of all those things. But the fact remains, if we don't even try right now, you are going to miss that ferry. And probably Joe's wedding. What have you got to lose by giving it a go?'

‘Maybe our lives? The car could explode.'

Harry raised his eyebrows. ‘I doubt it.'

‘I set fire to that corn husk doll.'

‘A small doll that is basically tinder, is not the same as—'

‘A car full of highly flammable fuel?'

‘Oh, for the love of the goddess, fine! Have it your way. Just stop arguing with me. I'll think of something.'

He turned away from her, linking his fingers at the back of his neck and staring off into the flat black night.

Kay rubbed the snow away from her eyelashes, angry at him and angry at herself too, because it turned out that saying sorry and kissing your teenage crush didn't automatically fix all your problems, personal or joint.

Even more annoyingly, a lot of what he'd said made sense. She had been so eager for her gift before, he was right about that, but him throwing that knowledge in her face just stirred up all her resentment about the years they'd lost because he hadn't trusted either of them to be able to deal with his problems.

He turned back without looking at her, and moved to the boot, fiddling with the catch. His hands trembling and practically blue from the cold. He popped it open and started rooting around inside.

‘What are you doing?'

‘Looking for something, anything , that might help,' he muttered.

He was shaking, and she couldn't entirely say it was the cold because she could feel the energy coming off him, whether she liked it or not. The desperation. Was that something she'd always been able to do? Something she had inherited from her mother without realising? Or was she just tuned into Harry and his moods, because this was so unlike him? Or unlike him to show it.

He clearly wanted to make that ferry.

And she needed to make it. She couldn't miss her brother getting married. Sure, she might have a magical accident at the wedding – but that was a risk whether she clamped down on her magic or not. Somehow, it had only been a day since she'd seen Madam Hedvika.

‘OK, OK.' The words ripped out of her, but she touched Harry's shoulder gently, to stop him from crashing around in the boot, where he'd not found much except a tyre pump and an empty box. ‘I'll try.'

Harry leaned on the rim of the boot for a second, before he straightened and looked at her again. ‘I'm sorry, Kay. I'm sorry I'm asking it of you. Honestly.'

‘You'll be even sorrier if I turn the car into a lump of smoking metal.' She said it as a joke because the shininess of his blue eyes was undoing her. He was looking at her with such a strange mix of gratitude and regret.

‘You won't.'

She started to shake her head again, objections rising to her lips, but he stepped closer and put his hands on her shoulders.

‘You can do this. I know you can.'

The cold air caught in her throat, the snowflakes whirling around them as a heat kindled in her stomach. And not the kind that was linked to how much her body responded to his proximity. No. It was like her magic was warming beneath the intensity of his belief in it. In her.

‘How should we do this, then?' she whispered.

‘Well, which do you think would be easier? I could help you do the lightening spell, like I did on your luggage and then I'll push – or we could try just putting as much force behind it as we can together?'

She chewed her lip. The lightening spell wasn't exactly easy and that would leave him having to use more physical energy when he was clearly shattered. The magical push might be riskier in terms of it going wrong, but then, even her magical mishaps tended towards the brute-force side of things, so it was probably best to lean into that.

‘Let's push together.'

He nodded and looked back at the car. ‘Right. If it starts slipping in the wrong direction or anything, you just get yourself out of the way, OK?'

‘Right.' She imagined the car bursting into flames or exploding like something out of an action movie and then immediately pushed the thoughts out of her mind, shutting her eyes to centre herself.

‘Kay. You can do this,' Harry said again, and then he placed a kiss on her forehead. His lips were freezing compared to earlier, but her heart still flipped over. ‘Thank you.'

He let go of her and moved back, closing the boot, and putting his hands to one side of it, leaving a space for her on the other side. She mirrored his posture, the cold metal biting at her hands as she dug her boots in as much as she could to the icy ground.

It was the most elementary use of magic in all honesty. Something most witches had learned to do with control by the time they were eight or nine. The biggest challenge was getting kids not to use it when they were fighting or trying to get a cookie jar down from a shelf.

Harry looked at her, gave her an encouraging smile and then she felt it – he was pushing the little energy he had left into the car. Or rather, into a force to push the car. She felt the weight lifting off her shoulder somewhat and reflected for a moment that he had been bullshitting her a little bit. No matter what he said about how he believed her to be of equal power to him – he was still managing to shift an entire car, even if it was only a centimetre or two, when he was almost completely drained.

Although, maybe that was just his own physical strength doing it. Which was equally impressive.

‘Kay?' he said with a slight grunt, and she realised she wasn't even trying yet.

She dipped down into her well of energy and imagined it funnelling up through her chest, through her arms, down to her palms against the car and pushing, a shove of kinetic energy drawing out from her. The car rocked forwards a little further.

‘That's great. You're doing it,' he gasped and she felt his magic kick up a notch as though encouraged.

They made it a foot further up the slope, beads of sweat prickling at the edge of Kay's hair and a light-headedness making her feel odd. But then they hit a harder patch of ice and the wheels just kept spinning rather than moving forwards.

‘C'mon, c'mon,' Harry muttered and when she looked at him, a stab of fear sliced through her. His freckles were stark against the pallor of his face, there were lines at the edge of his mouth and a bright red trickle of blood was just visible at the edge of his nose.

‘Harry, we need to stop,' she managed to say. Her own heart was pounding in her ears.

‘But we're so close, Kay,' his voice was little more than a wheeze.

‘I know, but—' she broke off and forced more energy into her push. If only the ice would melt a little. They were exerting so much effort and the weight of the engine would probably put it onto the road if this ice just melted. Her muscles burned with the strain and she glared at the tyre to her right as it slipped and slipped, picturing it catching in her mind. They would have to stop in a minute if they couldn't get it that little bit further. Harry was going to pass out and then the weight of the car would roll back and run them both over because she couldn't hold it on her own, magic or no magic.

Then she noticed the water, the way the snow under her feet was softening, growing slick. Beneath the car too. It was melting.

But it was still snowing—

Before she could think of how or why that was happening, the car caught and all the energy they were pushing into it sent it forward in one big surge. It tipped forward and rolled onto the road. Both she and Harry lost their grip and went down on their knees in what was now puddles of icy mud, rather than snow.

They stayed there, side by side, for a moment, dragging in great lungfuls of air and staring at the car.

‘I told you … you could … do it.'

She looked over at him slowly, catching him wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jumper. ‘Are you OK?' she asked, shuffling on her knees towards him. He was swaying a little, and when she reached him, he sank back to sit on his feet.

‘I'll be fine … it's just a little … overexertion. I'll be … all right in a minute.' He gulped some more air and then smiled at her. ‘You did it, Kay.'

She nodded slowly back at him and tried to smile. She had done it. But she wasn't sure it was the way she'd intended. They were sitting in a puddle of melted snow when she'd been focused on wanting that ice beneath the tyre to disappear.

Did that mean …? Had she melted the ice without meaning to? Did she have some affinity to weather from her mum's side of the family that she'd never recognised before? She'd never learned the spell for melting things without conjuring a flame. It wasn't the kind of spell you could usually do without extra juice and lots of practice … unless you had an affinity to it.

And if she did, what if her magic had been throwing out other weather effects? Things that were hindering them more than helping?