A Touch of Magic

Chapter 9: Ætberan

"You did what? On your own! Have I taught you nothing?" Mum physically pulled at her hair. If the leisure centre hadn't phoned to say there would be no Zumba class after school, no one would have missed me. It didn't help that Robbie confirmed I'd disappeared after snow-play by the river.

I shook off the snow from my soggy coat. "Mum, I'm sixteen and I didn't think you knew about class being cancelled," and I knew she would've said no to me visiting Gladys.

"But that doesn't matter. You don't put yourself at risk like that. What if you'd been attacked? What then?"

I had to look down. What could I say? Sometimes the truth is worse than lying; occasionally silence beat them both.

"And why did you want to go back to the cottage?" She was in full flow now. "The new owner might've taken up residence." Waves of apprehension resonated from my mother, like heat from a radiator. I took a step back. My flushed face would be proof of a guilty conscience. I automatically reached into my pocket for the charm.

"I only wanted to pop in and grab the Agatha Christie books before she chucked them." I couldn't really understand where Mum's negativity stemmed from. However, I didn't dare lie about seeing Gladys. "Mrs Jones is lovely; we chatted." The last few words came out quietly because my mother looked like she was about to explode.

"I don't want you to go there again. Really Minta, we know very little about Gladys Jones."

"Mum, she was Great Aunt Minty's friend and you've met her before." Her reasoning seemed a little unreasonable.

She closed her eyes as if weary of the conversation. "No more. I've spoken."

I saw Robbie lurking in the shadow behind the door as mum stalked off into the sitting room. "You can come out now, chicken."

Robbie slunk in.

"Go on," I said gravely, "what d'you know?" I lifted the lid off a Pyrex dish. Casserole. I'd have to leave stomach space, so biscuits and not toast.

"She found Gam's runes and chucked them in the grey wheelie-bin. I did tell her they could probably be recycled.

I whipped around and stared at Robbie. "Shi-, I mean, she did what?"

"I think that's why Mum's naffed-off at you being at Gam's cottage." He pointed to my bag. "If you've got mystic books in there. I'd hide them. And remember it's bin day tomorrow, if the dustcart can get through the snow."

I stared blankly into space. I needed them back. The bins were outside mum's windows and she slept lightly. "Thanks Rob."

"You could reward me with doing my washing-up shift tonight. Might take Mum's mind off the runes too." There was a snigger. Robbie knew how to push his luck.

"Yeah," I said absently. There was only one thing to do.

*

Nearly midnight. I sat cross-legged under the window, lights off, with a tea-light burning in the centre of a small and very D.I.Y shrine. A collection of objects that naturally fitted together helped me focus. The candle flicked. The window was open and the cold draft had long ago consumed the heat in my bedroom, so now it was freezing. Bless'ed be my hoody.

Bless'ed be, hum. I'd Googled words and phrases associated with spells, none of them seemed right. So, I just eyed the objects. The spiral disc, the amethyst pendant I'd bought Gam, and a scrap of paper with bind-runes for both success and movement. I sat still, listening, waiting for the right moment, the exact time when I'd know what to do.