Page 72 of Weave Your Magic

They were standing by the wildflower meadow that just hours before they’d collected posies from. But there would be nothing pretty about what they did next.

‘Pour the water right around the edge, then the fire won’t travel beyond that. Like a salt circle – it keeps everything inside.’ Temperance spoke firmly, but inside she was really only making it up as she went along. All she had right now was the courage of her convictions and she couldn’t show any chinks of uncertainty to the others. ‘Keep the clothes in the bag until we’re ready, Stevie, OK? So they stay dry.’

Stevie nodded and clasped the top of the giant Bag for Life closed. It wasn’t exactly how she’d pictured helping out in a wiccan ceremony: standing in a sweaty yellow raincoat in the middle of a storm, some firelighters in her pocket and a huge wedding dress punched flat into a Tesco bag. But she’d take it.

‘Done.’ Susie put down the empty bucket. ‘So, are we doing this? Really?’

‘Really.’ Temperance’s tone was as firm as the rocks they stood on. ‘Suse – don’t repeat what I say, OK? Just keep up your own mantra, promise?’

‘Of course, but could you just tell me—’

‘There’s no time. Stevie – firelighters?’ Temperance knew it wasn’t the most authentic way for a witch to start a fire, but she needed this to take in a big way, in the rain, and fast. She took them from her new friend and moved deep into the knee-high flowers, her dress still limiting her movements. ‘For fuck’s sake,’ she hissed, bending over and ripping at the side seams with her bare hands. Stevie couldn’t help but let out a horrified gasp.

Temperance placed a pile of firelighters in the dead centre and set them ablaze with an old Zippo, hurrying back at a satisfying speed now that her thighs could move independently. She watched the fire grow rapidly for five minutes or so, as if it loved that the air was charged with threat and drama and was feasting on it, growing hot and fat.

‘You two, hold hands.’ She beckoned the others together. ‘And then we begin.’

‘Gulliver men, we release you,’ Stevie and Susie said in unison, taking up the chant. ‘Gulliver men, we release you. We release you, Gulliver men. Gulliver men, we release you.’

After a steadying breath, Temperance turned her face up the bruise-blue sky and the clouds tumbling along at a stomach-lurching speed. The wind tried to knock her over again but she planted her bare feet firmly on the sodden ground. Flames started to creep now to the outside ring, sneaking up the stalks of ferns and flowers and uncurling wisps of black smoke into the air that were instantly taken out by the storm, like an impatient child who can’t wait to blow out their birthday candles and stick their face in the cake. The heat tinged at Temperance’s skin but she wouldn’t step back. She wouldn’t allow herself to be cowed.

Temperance took a lungful of the metallic air swirling around her and held out her right hand, her finger pointed. The bag by Stevie’s feet started to shift of its own volition and the bodice of the wedding dress rose from the top. Soon the dress was floating in mid-air, its long train whipping around precariously in the storm.

Stevie’s eyes were like saucers. She would have been whooping with delight, if she was able to break the chant.

Temperance flicked her wrist and the dress flew to the air in front of her. She didn’t have her fingers on fabric, but somehow the flourish of pure love still seemed to travel through her, giving her the extra bolt of courage she needed right now. Temperance pulled her arm right back, and with a pushing motion sent the dress deep into the flames, the red flash of the satin robe disappearing into the fire with it.

‘I called for a love that had no place being mine. I used my magic to cheat a man’s free will.’ The wind tried to push back Temperance’s words, but she only went louder. ‘I renounce that love: it doesn’t belong to me. I didn’t earn it. I give you back this pure love and desire, to repay the debt.’

The fire tore into the wedding dress, pulling it down deep into its amber heart and gobbling it almost whole.

Next, she pushed back her hood and yanked off her beanie, the rain now stinging at her scalp, another gale trying to rugby-tackle her ankles. From her pocket she took a tiny pair of embroidery scissors, snipping into the headband and working free an end of the purple yarn.

Susie’s voice was strong in the chant, but her eyes were hollow as she watched Temperance unwind row after row. ‘We release you, Gulliver men. Gulliver men, we release you.’

Temperance pulled and pulled, looping the crinkled yarn around her other hand until she reached the top of the crown and snipped into the last, securing knot. She squeezed her fingers around the wool, a pulse of steely strength kicking into her heart. ‘And now, to send back the danger hanging over our home, I will give to you this talisman,’ she yelled. ‘It has a powerful protective spell, made from strength and care. I give it to you, to ask that my chosen family are kept safe forever. Those who find their home here will always be welcomed and treasured, I make this vow.’ She lobbed the yarn into the fire that now crackled and spat dangerously close to her feet, but didn’t cross over the seawater moat Susie had poured out. The wool fizzled almost like a sparkler on Bonfire Night, with shards of white light bursting from it and flying into Temperance’s face, buzzing around her ears, until it vanished in mere seconds.

From the bag, Temperance snatched up Abel’s hoodie. Though she had felt it a thousand times and could recite the disgust and fear in its fibres like she could a Stevie Nicks lyric, as that chilling emotion ran up from her fingertips, icing the blood in her veins, she felt a new low to it. All these years she had thought that Abel was sickened by her, by the thought of them being together, but in fact it was his loathing for himself that had woven its way into the soft jersey. And though Temperance had come to relive it now and again over that time, Abel had been stuck with it in his heart, day in and day out. How devastating that must have been for him to carry around. How lonely.

She could have used to her powers to lift it up, but Temperance wanted to feel that connection to the past one more time, a last echo of what she and Abel had meant to each other back then. Now that she knew all of its negative feelings were really about protecting her, it felt less like a dirty secret and more a badge of honour.

She wiped at her eyes with the fabric and drew back her shoulders. Her voice started to scratch as she called out her next vow. ‘To my sister of old who was wronged by Jack Gulliver: I see your pain. He had no right to cheat you, to laugh at you. Jack Gulliver has paid the price. His debt is clear. It is time to release his descendants from this misery. It was never their burden to carry. I give to you a taste of their pain, so you can know how deeply they have suffered, a thousand times over. It’s time to let them rest. Abel Gulliver and all his kin should be free to go and find real, unshackled love.’ With a flick of her wrist, the hoodie spun into the air and landed in the heart of the roaring flames.

Stevie was by now trying her best not to flinch as they kept up their mantra at top volume. The heat was aggressive, pinching at their faces while the storm tried to freeze them out from behind.

‘My last gift,’ Temperance shouted, ‘to lift the Gulliver Curse, is this very meadow. My mother, sister and I have picked these flowers and used them to enhance our magic. I burn them today to show you that I renounce my power. I renounce my magic, so that the village and the Gulliver family will always be safe. I give this freely, with my whole heart!’ She held her palms open and up to the furious sky.

‘Tee, no!’ Susie yelled.

‘Don’t stop chanting!’ her big sister shouted back in response. From the corner of her eye, Temperance saw that the bag by her feet wasn’t totally empty. A Malibu bottle was rolling slowly from side to side, maybe caught on a breeze or maybe doing its best to get her attention. She smiled. ‘It’s only right.’ Unscrewing the top, she shook the last measure into the flames.

The flames roared up like a totem pole for one terrifying second, right up over their heads, and then were gone.

The fire was out.

No smouldering, no smoke. Temperance crouched down and inched her fingers towards the blackened ground. Completely cold.

Susie and Stevie’s voices stopped their mantra.