Chapter Twenty-Two

9 p.m.: sunday 31 october

The Cave of Lost Things

The night air was refreshing on Kay's cheeks, flushed from dancing and champagne, but the temperature was surprisingly mild considering there had been a storm. Perhaps it was just in comparison to the snow and ice in Holland.

Folklore said never to follow a wisp, but that was because they often led somewhere magical, and witches had been sure to keep stories of mischief and danger circulating. She was sure this one was just a leftover from the lights the Ashworths charmed to lead the way to and from the cave. A lone wisp tending its watch. Perhaps it was being in touch with her magic again, resurrecting her curiosity, or a desire to find some calm in the quiet woods, after the overload of the reception … or maybe even a need to confront the last ghosts of the past … but she wanted to see if she was right.

Nothing much had changed in the clearing. Shadows and moonlight created a textured darkness, the trees having lost their leaves completely to the storm, but the entrance of the cave had nearly disappeared under ivy. Only a glimmer of silver gave a hint there might be stone beneath.

The log she'd sat on as she waited for Harry was still there, in the same spot. She stopped and stared at it the way someone might when finding an old photograph they had no recollection of being taken. Uncomfortable but familiar.

She sat down and took a deep lungful of the damp air, tinged with magic. The moss was saturated, her dress and bottom getting soggy. She couldn't bring herself to care at that moment as the dragging pain of her past disappointment pressed upon her chest.

Wiping a hand under her eye, she forced a laugh. So many people had come and waited here, desperate for Biddi to return things to them. She'd just wanted Harry to meet her, like he'd said he would.

But even if he had, it didn't necessarily mean there wouldn't have been more heartbreak for her. She'd be naive to think that even if she and Harry had met that day, dated, and then tried to have a long-distance relationship – whether it was London or Edinburgh – they wouldn't have struggled. Between them missing each other and their family problems, would two teenagers really have been equipped to make it work?

It didn't stop her from feeling loss as she sat there. But maybe it wasn't the loss of what she and Harry could have had, so much as the loss of who she'd been. Starry-eyed and optimistic. Eager and hopeful.

‘Hey Biddi, could you help me find my faith? I can offer payment in pretty shoes that I've bought even though they pinch my toes.'

The blue light flared within the entrance to the cave, a wink of colour among the mass of slick ivy. A small flutter of adrenaline pushed into Kay's stomach.

Just a coincidence? It had to be.

Still, Kay couldn't help approaching the entrance to the cave. She pushed the curtain of ivy to the side, drips of rain landing on the back of her neck, sending goosebumps cascading over her skin. Inside was the same inky dark she remembered. She fumbled for the piece of chalk, wondering if it would still be there on the little ledge, closing her hand around a lump that was dry but powdery around the edges.

Running her hand along the wall, she tried to remember the position of the rune Harry had invoked. She had to be crazy to think she'd be able to make it work, but what was the alternative? Staying in the dark? Turning around and going back when possibly the magic was calling her onwards to something important?

Her finger dipped into a groove and she traced the arrow shape, a tingle of energy reaching out to her like a fish hook, trying to connect with her.

OK, here went nothing. She placed the chalk against the stone and scraped it along the line, while calling her magic to flow through her.

The first time didn't work. She took a breath against the initial flutter of disappointment, reminding herself that she'd known it would be unlikely to work so easily. She had a lot still to learn. But she wanted to.

She didn't remember Harry reciting any spell when he'd done it, but maybe it would help direct the intention. She repeated it one more time, whispering the name of the rune, calling her magic to meet that which was buzzing over the skin of her hand now and imagining it catching, like the strike of a match.

There was a gentle magical tug on her abdomen and she hadn't realised she'd closed her eyes until warm light came through her eyelids. Gasping, she opened them, dropping the chalk and standing up. The passageway was lit with glowing golden light from the torch further down. It was like the warmth of coming home.

‘Kay.'

She screamed and jumped back a few paces into the cave, heart hammering, before she saw that Harry was there. She'd not heard him come in. ‘By all the elements, what are you doing here?' she wheezed, hand to her chest.

‘Itchy magic compass,' he explained with a lopsided smile. The flickering light was playing over the edges of his messy hair, flame meeting flame, while keeping his blue eyes in shadow. It gave him a slightly dangerous look, like a fire barely contained, capable of warming you or giving you third-degree burns.

It didn't help her heart particularly.

She glanced behind her and walked through to the chamber at the back like it would help her get some distance from the way her whole being was screaming to her, you love each other .

And, of course, Harry followed, as though their bond had them physically tethered.

The seating area around the fire looked even smaller than it had years ago. To think Biddi had gone from actually living in here to founding Ashworth Hall and the whole village that had been established. But she hadn't done it all by herself. It was a long legacy, and one to be proud of, but Kay had a lot of questions about it, now she'd been given the inside knowledge about how it worked. It sounded like even the Ashworth family had questions about it. That was all for another time though.

‘How is your dad?' She paced around to the other side of the fire, unable to help herself from glancing back at him and trying to assess his welfare in the shifting light. ‘How are you?'

‘I'm feeling fine. Tired, but that could be from any number of things. And Dad,' his voice caught and he swallowed, ‘we can tell the strain on him has eased already. I mean, he's not jumped out of bed like Charlie Bucket's Grandpa Joe, but he's spoken … I haven't heard his voice in so long. Didn't think I would again, to be honest.' He scrubbed the heel of his hand over each of his eyes roughly.

Kay couldn't help herself. She went to him, pulled his head down to her shoulder and kissed the spot behind his ear.

‘I don't think I can ever thank you enough,' he murmured into her skin. She shivered and he straightened, pulling off his huge blue coat and bundling it around her.

‘You don't have to,' she said. Trying to breathe around the feeling of being wrapped up in the silky lining of his coat, his scent fogging up her mind. ‘It was down to you accepting the anchor, wasn't it? You needed to accept that he trusts you before the magic could work.'

He nodded and when she looked up at him, he framed her face with his hands. His thumbs smoothed beneath the lowest edge of her glasses to her cheekbones. Touching her in that careful, reverential way he'd examined the tree painting in Leon's café. ‘But no one else could make me believe it—'

‘Because of my gift—'

‘Because I know what it took for you to do that for me. It was brave.'

‘I don't feel brave, Harry. I'm scared of … this.' She pressed her hands to his shirt. She couldn't even bring herself to say the words.

‘Kay, you know how I feel about you.' His blue eyes shone at her, reaching down to that part which belonged only to him. ‘You've seen it. I love you.'

Kay's breath caught in her throat. She had seen how he felt, she would be able to see it again now if she wanted to … but hearing him saying it was different. That was him making a conscious choice to act on those feelings. She might be able to read how someone felt, but that didn't mean she could predict how they would act. What they wanted to do about it. That was all down to the person.

And those were the things which built the threads of emotion in the first place. The choices. How to treat people, whether that was with magic or without.

She could choose to let the hurt build, allow the purple bruise to spread and smoother out the gold, or she could try to heal it. Just like she was doing with her dad. Biddi wasn't going to gift her the faith she needed to do that, though, she needed to find it on her own.

Or maybe, not quite on her own.

‘I understand if that's overwhelming. Too much,' Harry continued, quietly, his gaze downcast, eyelashes spiky from the tears he'd recently shed. ‘Especially with how I treated you—'

‘Stop,' she interrupted. ‘Stop punishing yourself, Harry. I don't want you to do that anymore. I understand why you did it and I forgive you. I do. And …' She swallowed hard, gathering her strength. In her mind's eye she could picture their bond like a tightrope across a chasm. She wanted to believe he wouldn't immediately let go of his end the moment she took a tentative step out towards him. She licked her lips and his gaze dropped to them briefly before going back up to her eyes. ‘I love you, too,' she whispered.

His hands trembled as he tightened their grip at the sides of her neck. He lowered his forehead to press against hers but didn't do anything more, as though sensing she wasn't done. ‘Are we going to give this a shot? Us? Do you want to try?'

She gave a short, little laugh that bordered on hysterical. ‘I want to. But … I know you didn't mind me using my gift today. What about going forwards? You said you would never ask me to stifle it, but how do I avoid letting it control how I react to things? What if I find myself trying to make you love me if I see your feelings waning? I'll end up in an even worse situation. It's all so messy.'

Harry straightened slightly, moving his hands to rub her back beneath his coat, firm and soothing. ‘Relationships are messy. But we can figure it out together. We might make mistakes, but we've already done that anyway and yet here we are.'

Here they were. Back where their paths had split off from each other so long ago … but perhaps it had just been a necessary detour?

None of the relationships she'd seen back at the wedding had been one colour on their own. How had they started out? Pure lust? Affection? Misguided dislike? And then they'd discovered more about each other over time. Made themselves vulnerable with the deepest parts of themselves and sometimes it brought people closer together, and sometimes it didn't. Harry was willing to do that with her. To see what else lurked beneath her surface. Possibly to end up trapped in a sofa bed. It wasn't risk-free for him either.

Their magic wasn't the issue. Trust was. It lay at the heart of every relationship. This wedding would never have happened if Sandy hadn't decided to trust Joe when he'd revealed he was a witch. She had no magic, she couldn't see how Joe genuinely felt for her – all she had was his word, but it had been enough.

‘OK.' Kay nodded. ‘OK.'

‘OK?' His throat rippled as he swallowed. ‘You're sure? Because I'll wait if you need me to—'

She shook her head, lifting her hands to run her fingers into his hair, along his scalp. ‘No. We've spent enough time apart. Maybe it was necessary. Maybe it wasn't. There's nothing we can do about that anyway. But we don't have to waste any more.'

He took a deep breath in and banded his arms around her waist to pull her in close. Her whole body lit up as it aligned with his. She tugged on his fiery hair, tiptoed up and Harry's mouth pressed gently against hers. A soft kiss, sealing the emotions between them. They stayed still, lips touching but not moving, chaste by all standards, except the steady pressure of it heated something up inside of her, unwinding knots of uncertainty. This kiss said they were both there, in the same space, no rushing required to ensure they didn't miss out. No ending in sight.

Her dad's words came back to her about how the fates determined when you found the person that you'd decide was worth the work of a relationship. And maybe it was.

But, as the fire bloomed beside them, crackling up with heat and light like more fuel had been added, Kay thought that maybe it was also a little bit of magic.