Music is magic. I am very eclectic in my musical tastes, and I have recently realized I thoroughly enjoy classical music and movie scores.

Below are a few of my favourite composers:

Joel Clarkson – I find Joel Clarkson’s music to be relaxing and inspiring. His music makes me want to curl up with a cup of tea and a good book.

John Williams – Whenever I listen to John Williams’ movie scores I will typically listen to them two or three times in a row. The stories they tell leave me wanting to revisit his musical worlds again and again.

Ludwig van Beethoven – With symphonies that sound as though nature itself were singing, Ludwig van Beethoven’s compositions make me want to venture outside and enjoy the world.

There is something freeing in expressing oneself to another.

We want to be heard, to be understood, to be tectonic.

Writing is something I cannot not do – it may take me time to phrase a sentence just so, or I may have a season of writer’s block, but I still write.

Is my writing always accurate the first time; the second? More often than not I have to reread something between five and ten times before I’m completely satisfied, and even then I often wonder if the true meaning I intend to convey will be evident. So, while the expression of oneself is freeing, it is also intimidating and unnerving.

Chapter 2

The car needed petrol, but I was soon on the way. The Saturday evening traffic was light, and I arrived at my parents’ home in Clonmel shortly before seven. I grabbed my bags and walked up to the bright yellow door, which swung open before I reached it. My da reached out and yanked me into a giant bear hug, causing me to drop my things. Da’s about six-two and burly, strong from working with horses his whole life, with blue eyes and sandy brown hair, just starting to grey.

‘Hi, Daddy!’ My voice was muffled from my face being pressed into his chest.

‘Hello, Gueneviere!’ He is the only person permitted to use my full name, though I guess I would have let Ma if she wanted to. She was actually the first one to call me Gwen. Funny that, after saddling me with the sesquipedalian name.

‘Come in and eat. It’s just about ready.’

Da pulled me into the house and closed the door. Ma poked her head out of the kitchen, and then came completely into the sitting room for a hug when she saw it was me.

She kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, ‘I’m so glad you’ve come to see us!’

‘Love you, Ma,’ I murmured back, holding on to her for a few extra seconds.

Ma drew away finally. ‘Take your things to your room. I assume you remember where it is?’ She grinned and swatted my bottom as I went by.

 

I headed down the hall toward the back bedroom that Ma and Da used as a guest room now, but it still had all of my things in it. I left my bags on the full-size bed, tucked the book of spells into the pocket of my lightweight hoodie and walked back through the sitting room to the eat-in kitchen. It was good-sized, but still cozy. My ma loves to cook and the kitchen is her personal domain.

‘Come sit, Gueneviere.’ Da was already at the table; Ma stood at the stove, ready to serve from the cook-top. She always left the food on so it would stay warm for second helpings. Ma set a plate in front of me—stew, colcannon and soda bread—one of my favorite meals.

‘Ma! Did you make colcannon just for me?’

‘Of course. It’s your favorite, and I know you can’t get it anywhere else just as you  like it.’

‘You are the very best!’ Ma had never believed in restricting foods to certain times of year.

We tucked in and spoke of general things: school, work, summer plans. Ma and Da were actually planning a vacation abroad, their first. It was something they’d always wanted to do and had been carefully tucking money away for it since I was little. They didn’t know where they wanted to go, but they knew they wanted to visit somewhere that wasn’t Ireland at least once in their lives.

 

Finally, as we neared the end of the meal, Da looked me right in the eyes and asked, ‘Are you going to tell us why you came in such an all-fired hurry? Your ma said you were worried about something.’

‘Er, I’d hoped to wait til tomorrow. It may be a lengthy discussion.’

‘Gueneviere Ryanne McCullough, I’m not sure I could sleep tonight, wondering what this is all about,’ Ma said.

‘Okay, okay. Well, let’s start with this: Ma, you know quite a lot about the history the family, don’t you?’

‘I do, I’ve studied our genealogies as far back as I could find information, at least on my side. I haven’t done any of your da’s.’

‘Did any of them make… fantastic claims?’

‘Like what?’

‘Er, well, claims of using magic?’

Ma gave me a puzzled look. ‘They did, actually. There was a whole branch on my side who claimed to be mages or some such. They were very quiet about it, mostly only mentions in private journals, because even though many Irish believed in the fae back then, they were still suspicious of people who appeared to have anything to do with magic. What does this have to do with anything?’

I removed the spell book from my pocket and laid it on the table. Ma and Da peered at it with perplexed expressions and then gave each other  funny looks. I was too anxious to pay much attention at the moment.

‘What is that and why are you showing it to us?’ Da finally asked.

‘It’s a book of spells,’ Ma answered. ‘May I look at it?’

I pushed the book across the table to her. Ma picked it up, turned it over a couple of times, then opened the front cover. She read the poem on the first page and looked up at me with wide eyes. She knew exactly why I was there.

I took a deep breath and cast the light spell again. The small globe of light hovered above my hand. My da’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

Ma nodded once and sighed as I ended the spell. ‘I sometimes wondered how much truth there was to my ancestors’ claims. They were so serious about it, and this confirms it. Where did you get the book?’

I explained my last couple of days and how I’d decided to come to them. I noticed Da was still looking a mite gobsmacked.

‘Er, Da, are you okay?’

He looked back and forth between us, eyes still wide. He finally blinked.

‘Lily, why haven’t you ever said anything about this?’

‘Well, I only half-believed it myself, and I assumed you felt the same about it. There wasn’t really any reason to talk about it without evidence.’

‘Well half-believing and finding out it’s true are very different things.’ Da’s eyes were still wide.

‘Indeed.’ Ma gazed into space thoughtfully.

‘So… you’re both okay with this?’ I’d been so terrified that they’d think I was crazy, I had to know.

‘Of course, love.’ Ma hugged me. ‘How could we not be?’

‘I just thought you’d think I was off or something.’ I heaved a great sigh and put it out of my mind. ‘So, am I magical myself, or does the power come from the book?’

‘Well, if we take what the Ó Meadhras claimed as true, I think the magic must be from you. This book certainly seems meant for you. It may have unlocked your power.’ Ma turned the book over in her hands several times.

‘That’s what I was thinking. But did you notice? The language in the book is modern Irish. I can’t figure out how that can be. The book is legitimately old.’

‘About that I’ve no idea. ‘Tis fair strange. I’ll pull all the information I have on that part of the family. They are direct ancestors and made the most notable claims of being able to perform magic. One of the journals often spoke of arguments with druids.’

‘Really?’ Druids, too?’ I couldn’t believe it. ‘Wait…what about all the other stories? About faeries and such. Are they true too?’

‘I really couldn’t say.’ Ma left the kitchen, presumably for the third bedroom, which acted as a shared office for my parents.

‘Daddy, are you really okay with this?’

‘I can’t say I’m not shocked, but I was raised on the same stories that I always told you. And like any good Irishman, I always held a bit of belief that the legends were true. I’m glad you felt you could tell us.’

‘I was scared, but I showed Norah first. She’s got a good head on her, and she’d support me even if she did think I was crazy. I know you love me, but I was afraid you’d think I’d completely lost it.’

He stood from the table and hugged me. ‘No matter what you tell us, we’d never think you were crazy. Blathering maybe,’ he pulled back to grin at me, ‘but not insane.’ I tugged away and whacked him in the chest with the back of my hand, then hugged him again. ‘Besides, you’ve certainly proved you’re telling the truth.’

 

‘Your daughter is beating on me, Lily,’ Da said as Ma returned to the kitchen with a couple of file folders and her own laptop.

‘Well, you probably deserved it, Elliot. Don’t tease your daughter unless you are ready for retaliation.’ She held out the folders to me. I opened them to see a number of documents, some old tintypes and photos of painted portraits.

‘That first portrait is the Ó Meadhras.’ Ma sat at the table and opened her computer.

‘My… our red hair does go back a ways, doesn’t it? And I think I’ve got this one’s nose. What year was this painted?’

‘I believe it was in 1164. That’s Fáelán, Luigsech, and Eógan Ó Meadhra. We’re their direct descendants, and they were the ones who made the most frequent claims of using magic. Here are the records I’ve found,’ she indicated the screen, ‘and there are parts of a journal as well. That’s where most of the magic talk is. Luigsech writes about a feud with another family called the Ó Banain, who also seemed to be magic users of some kind, according to the journal. Why don’t I send you the file so you can read it for yourself? We can discuss it more in the morning. It’s getting late.’

‘That sounds good. See you in the morning.’ I gathered the files as I stood from the table.

‘Love you, darling. Sleep well.’ They both kissed me on the head and went off to their bedroom, on the opposite side of the house from the other bedrooms.

I carried the folders to my room, got ready for bed, then settled with my laptop and retrieved the documents my mother had emailed. The majority of the journal was of normal, everyday occurrences (notwithstanding the oddity of a woman of those times being able to read and write), but there were also parts that talked about this other family making magical attacks on hers. The effects she described were entirely different from what I had experienced, so I didn’t know if they used a different type of magic, or if they were spells I hadn’t yet learned. The reason the Ó Banain kept attacking was also unclear. Luigsech was vague and the journal pages were damaged and incomplete. It was possible I wouldn’t be able to get a clear picture from the journal. Apparently, the Ó Banain objected to something to do with my family’s magic, but it was no clearer than that. Luigsech was disparaging in her description of the other family, calling them ‘overly flamboyant,’ or something to that effect, more than once.

I opened my web browser and did a search on magic users in Ireland. The main entries, especially regarding ancient times, were about druids, who were primarily poets. Hmm, that could be the source of Luigsech’s disdain. Ridiculous reason for a feud, however. Our spells were very short and direct; the druids’ long and complicated. Perhaps it had started as something more serious and devolved. At any rate, I decided that was enough for the night and set everything aside to go to sleep.

Despite having used magic several times earlier, and the long drive and anxiety, it took me some time to fall asleep. I dreamed about mages and druids—yelling spells at each other, the mage casting three or four for every one of the druid’s. I couldn’t clearly see or hear the druid, but I realised the mage was me, and I was casting every spell I’d learned so far, and a few that were obviously gibberish. We weren’t casting the spells at one another, but appeared to be competing. Eventually, I drifted into a deeper, dreamless sleep and barely remembered the dream when I awoke the next morning.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

On Sunday, I woke late to the smells of some of my favorite breakfast foods: bacon, eggs, fried potatoes and who knew what else. Some of the local farmers paid Da in trade for caring for their horses, so they always had extra food around. Ma was generally considered one of the best cooks in the village and cooked massive amounts of food most days, determined to feed the entire county, and most of the neighbors obliged her by showing up several times a week for breakfast—everyone loved Lily McCullough’s food!

After dressing, I meandered to the kitchen, after stowing the spell book, files and laptop into a hidey-hole under the bed. It was probably paranoid, but I didn’t want to take any chances.

‘Morning! Did you sleep well?’ Ma was puttering around at the stove. There was no one else in the kitchen yet.

‘Grand. I can’t believe no one else is here! Did Da already go out to the barn?’

‘I’m sure the neighbors will start dropping by soon. They tend to come in later on the weekend. And your da headed out about fifteen minutes ago. Are you going to help him?’

‘I am, but may I have some bacon, eggs and tea first?’

‘Of course. Help yourself.’

I scooped up some food, poured myself some tea and sat at the table to gulp it down quickly. As soon as I finished, I took my plate to the sink, washed it and set it on the rack to dry. I ran back to my room to grab my boots and carried them to the back door, stopping just outside to pull them on.

There was a bit of a garden between the house and barn, with a pasture for the horses beyond that. A long drive goes past the house to an area for Da’s customers to park trailers by the barn. He did most of his farrier work from home, but travelled for a few long-time customers that had a more difficult time getting out, or if their horses didn’t trailer well. Some customers were also just willing to pay more for him to come to them.

Da kept one horse of his own, a bay Irish draught gelding named Slate; and he let two other stalls for a small income. I could see horses looking out the windows of both those stalls, so I knew Da would appreciate some help with the chores. I trotted into the barn and stopped to inhale the smell of hay and horses—best smells in the world.

‘Right.’ I grabbed the halter off the first stall on the right and led the first horse, a pretty roan mare named Tansy, out to the pasture. She took off running as soon as I released her. The other horse, also a mare by the name of Sage, stayed near the back of her stall when I opened the door. Sage bobbed her head nervously as I approached, so I spoke to her quietly as I gently put the halter over her head and took her out. When I released her at the pasture gate, Sage gave my shoulder a little head bump before trotting away toward Tansy and Slate. I watched them caper for a few minutes before walking back into the barn to clean stalls.

Da was singing ‘When Irish Eyes are Smiling’ as he mucked one of the stalls. It was one of his favorite songs, and he sang it frequently with his men’s quartet. I joined in as I grabbed a pitchfork and wheelbarrow and started in on another of the stalls.

When we’d finished, I told Da to go on in. ‘I already ate a little, so I can finish up here. Go get some bacon before the neighbors eat it all.’ I grinned up at him.

He kissed my head and ambled back to the house as I got the large push broom and began sweeping up all the stray bits of hay on the concrete slab of the barn aisle. I also checked the horses’ water and hay racks so they would be ready for when Da brought them in later.

When I was done, I went back to the house, greeting the several neighbors who’d come to eat brunch. I’d known most of them since before I could walk, but there were a couple of new faces. I joined in on a second helping of breakfast, this time getting potatoes and bread, as well as more bacon and tea. After more than an hour jawing, the neighbors all left and it was just my parents and me.

I started to get up to clear the table, but Ma grabbed my wrist and drew me back down.

‘So…what did you learn from the journal?’

I sighed and took a moment to compose my thoughts. ‘I think the Ó Banains were druids, and the disagreement between the families had something to do with how spells were cast. Druid spells seem to have been long and convoluted, while mage spells are short and direct. I don’t know for sure, but it seemed that the druids saw the mage spells as vulgar or simplistic, and the mages thought the druids were overly loquacious. Luigsech made several comments about the Ó Banains blathering and how they looked down on her family. I can’t imagine how this feud started over something so stupid.’

‘That does seem a foolish reason for a feud, but perhaps it started as something more serious and devolved.’

‘I thought the same. Do you have any other information or resources on the family, or other families, from that time?’

‘Nothing on hand, but I can keep looking.’ Ma rose and started clearing the table.

‘Grand. I need to set this aside for now and get some work done on my thesis. I’ve spent more time than I should on this mage thing.’

Da had been silent up to this point, just listening, but now he chimed in, ‘I’m glad you’ve not forgotten about school with all of this.’

‘No, I’ve been a little distracted, but I’m too close to finishing to mess it up now. I just have a couple of weeks before I have to present my paper, then I can spend more time on the spell book.’

That was the end of it for the moment. Ma and I cleaned the kitchen, while Da went back to the barn to prepare for a customer. I retrieved my books and laptop from the bedroom and settled on the couch to work. Several hours later, I ended up hopping around on one foot for a moment when I tried to get up for a drink—my foot had fallen completely asleep.

‘Is there a tune that goes with that dance?’ Ma had entered the room quietly and stood there smiling at my antics.

‘I was on a roll. Didn’t even notice it had been so long, but I think I’m ready to edit. Would you proofread for me?’

‘Of course. Just send it to me.’

 

It was nearly time for lunch, but I decided to stretch my legs by going back to the barn for a bit, just to be near the horses. There was a two-horse trailer parked by the building, and Da had a horse tied in the aisle as he bent over to fit an iron horseshoe to one of its hooves. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I went on to the pasture. The horses were grazing near the fence, so I ducked through to pat Slate. I stroked from his forehead down to his nose and paused as he started lipping at my fingers, then licking my hand, always looking for treats. When I saw Da load the horse back in the trailer, I gave Slate one final pat and started back for the house.

After lunch, I spent the afternoon scouring the journal again and translating more of the spell book. The spells definitely seemed to increase in difficulty the further I got, but the incantations themselves remained short—most no more than five words.

I’d been itching to try a new spell, so I stopped on a likely one and pointed my palm toward a pillow on the couch.

‘Crochtar in airde.’

The pillow rose into the air, but I immediately felt a dramatic decrease in energy. The spell was about halfway through the book—obviously, I wasn’t quite ready for it. I lowered my hand, but the pillow remained in the air.

I started flipping through the book to figure out what was wrong when it came to me.

‘Oh! Scoir.’ The pillow dropped back to the couch. So, spells with continuous effects had to be halted with the ending spell.

I wanted to run a theory by my ma. I finally tracked her down in her office, holding the spell book aloft as I entered. ‘I just tried a spell from further in the book and it made me really tired, but I was able to cast several in one day from earlier in the book before becoming fatigued. I think maybe the spells are meant to be learned sequentially, becoming more difficult and requiring more energy the closer to the back of the book you get. I believe this might be some kind of mage primer.’

Ma took the book and flipped through it. ‘You may be right, but there don’t seem to be any instructions.’

‘Perhaps mages are meant to have mentors when they’re, we’re, starting out, so the book wouldn’t necessarily need instructions beyond the spells themselves. I wonder if there are other mages anywhere.’

‘I don’t know, love. Maybe you should look around here before you head home, though.’

‘That’s a good plan, but where do I start?’

Ma sighed and sat back in her seat. ‘Well, the library, of course, and the historical society. There’s also a woman who moved here about two years ago that might be worth visiting. She calls herself a natural healer. Fogarty is her name, I believe. She has a shop in town.’

‘Nothing will be open this evening. I’ll go first thing in the morning.’

‘I have to work tomorrow. Why don’t you make the library your last stop? I can pull books to save you some time.’

‘That sounds grand. Thanks, Ma.’

 

I relaxed the rest of the day, getting in some recreational reading, a truly rare occurrence as busy as I was most of the time. I also called Norah to fill her in on how things had gone with my parents. Though I was yawning hugely, I forced myself not to nap so I could get to bed that night and get up early enough to help Da with his chores before my research expedition.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next morning started the same as the previous: breakfast, help Da, more breakfast, then a shower before leaving the house around the same time as Ma. The historical society was my first stop. I didn’t really think I’d find much more information than Ma had already given me, but I also wanted to look up some records on the Ó Banains and other families that lived in the area at the time. The ladies at the society were extremely helpful: pulling records, helping me make photocopies and printouts and sharing what they knew about the time period and families. We finished up around ten, with about fifty pages for me to read through.

While at the historical society, I had the idea to stop by Old St. Mary’s Church and see what records they might have. It wasn’t quite contemporary with the Ó Banains and Ó Meadhras, but it seemed likely they might still have some useful information. I came away with genealogies for both families dating back to the 13th century.

My next stop was Fogarty’s shop. I’d looked it up the night before, and it seemed to be a combination of health shop with herbs, oils and health foods; and a ‘natural healing’ service. The website didn’t elaborate on what this healing entailed, but it did say that walk-ins were welcome. I hoped I wouldn’t be kicked right back out the door when Fogarty discovered I was there to quiz her about magic rather than healing. I carried a couple of books in my arms, the spell book on top. It wasn’t particularly subtle, but I hoped Fogarty would bite without my having to say anything.

The shop was in an old, but well-maintained, house. A chime rang above the door as I entered. The woman behind the counter looked up. She was tall with long, curly grey hair and wore a loose, yellow blouse and little jewelry.

‘G’morning. What can I help you with?’

‘Not sure. Mind if I just look around?’

‘Go right ahead. Let me know if you have any questions.’

I started wandering, looking at the various creams and oils, which touted their healing ability of a wide variety of maladies and illnesses. There were several shelves of books on healing and (ah-ha!) magic. When I made my way back to the counter, I set my books down, noting the woman’s eyes following the movement. They widened slightly.

I gave her a friendly smile. ‘Do you get many customers? Or would they be called patients?’

‘A little of both. My type of healing is not widely accepted right now.’ She changed the subject abruptly. ‘Do you know what that book is you have there?’

‘A bit. I’m doing my master’s in ancient and medieval Irish literature and came across it in my research. What do you know about it?’

‘I know those who would do much to possess one of these books. They are highly coveted. One so old is extremely rare. I also know there are a few in this town who possess their own copies of these types of books. None quite so old as this.’

‘Might you be able to direct me to any of these people? I’d very much like to speak to someone about it.’

‘They don’t very well like being known and may not thank me for sending a stranger to them. They are some of my only customers.’

‘I may not be unknown to them. I was born and grew up right here in Clonmel. My mother is the head librarian and my da is one of the only farriers in town. I’ve been away at school for the last five years.’

‘Hmm. So these people would likely recognise your name?’

‘They would. Shall I give you my information to pass on to them?’

‘That might be best.’ She passed me a small notebook. ‘Write whatever information you want me to give them here. I will pass it on.’

I wrote my full name plus Ó Meadhras, in case knowing the magical connection would help, my mobile number and email address. I pushed the notebook back across the counter. ‘The only thing…I’m headed back to Dublin this evening. Would they contact me today?’

‘I don’t know, but they may be able to put you in touch with someone in Dublin who could be of assistance.’

I nodded and gathered my books from the counter. ‘Thank you for your help.’

I left the shop and headed for the library, thinking about what I’d done. It concerned me a little revealing myself to these people without knowing who it would be, but I couldn’t think of any other way to find help. There certainly wasn’t a Mages ‘r’ Us in the phone book.

 

I grabbed some take-away, eating as I drove to the library on Emmet. Ma had worked there for twenty-six years, longer than anyone else. She’d been made head librarian eleven years ago. I had spent many hours there after school, finishing homework and reading until she was done with work. I could have gone home, as Da was usually there, but when I was small, he was worried about me being around when he was heating horseshoes or had tools flying about, and he couldn’t really take his attention off the horses to keep an eye on me. When I was really little, a neighbor had watched me, but once I was old enough to sit quietly and read on my own, I started going to the library and never stopped. I would sit in Ma’s office for however long, without making a peep. Consequently, I’d read nearly every book there. We’d kept a running list of what I hadn’t read yet, and we usually still added to it when I was home on holiday. The library held a contest every summer to see if anyone could match me.

I was flooded with memories as I drove up to the library and parked. There’d been a little touch-up to the façade since the last time I’d been there, but for the most part it was exactly the same as I remembered.

I entered through the front door and stopped at the desk. ‘Hiya, ladies. Is my ma in her office?’

‘Yes, dear. She said she was expecting you.’

‘Thank you.’ I walked past the desk toward the back of the library where the offices were. I returned greetings as people waved or said hello, but didn’t stop until I was at Ma’s office. The door was open, but she was on the phone, so I waited in the doorway until she hung up and waved me in.

‘I found several books for you. You may have already read them, but they’d be worth looking at again with your new objective.’

‘Thanks, Ma! I got a bunch of information from the historical society, and I also stopped at Old St. Mary’s. They had some genealogical data on both families that might be useful. And Ms. Fogarty does have connections to magic users around here. She’s going to give them my contact info.’

I sat with the stack of books at a small table in the corner of Ma’s office and started skimming, pulling out my laptop after a few minutes to start making notes. Four of the books were newer, written about the 19th century; a couple of others were two to three hundred years old.

‘Where did these come from? I’ve never seen them,’ I asked, fingering the ancient tomes.

‘We have a small archive of extremely old and rare books that aren’t for public use.’

‘How have you never mentioned these to me? This is what I do!’

‘Honestly, I assumed you had access to better resources at Trinity, and these are mostly locally relevant.’

‘Oh. Well, still. You know I’ll read just about anything.’ I gave her a little grin, hoping she knew I was just messing with her. Ma ‘pfft’ at me and went back to her work.

 

I turned back to the books, skimming as fast as I could. I took out my mobile and took pictures of pages here and there, mainly those that had more information than I could quickly condense. I was speed-reading, probably more quickly than was wise, so that I could get back to Dublin as soon as possible. I was surely reading and making notes on important information, but I was going too quickly to really process any of it. I would go back through more slowly once home.

I’d never tried to count up the number of hours I’d spent bent over books, but was sometimes surprised I didn’t have a permanent hunch in my back. I’d had to wear reading glasses from a young age, probably making my sight worse by squinting at small print for hours on end. Even with everything on my mind, I was enjoying myself.

 

By four, I’d gleaned what I could from the stack of books, so I closed the last one and gathered my things.

‘Ma, I need to get back to Dublin. Thanks for all your help!’

‘You have to go right now? I was hoping you’d stay to dinner.’

‘You know I’d love to stay, but I have a lot to do at home and I need plenty of rest tonight. I’ve got class tomorrow, and I’ll need to make up some of the work I missed today.’

Ma pouted a little. ‘I understand, darlin’. I just hate that you can’t stay longer.’

‘Me, too. But I’ll be back in a month for part of the summer.’ I hugged Ma tightly, holding on for several seconds, before finally pulling away and heading out.

‘I’ll stop and see Da before I leave. I still need to pack my bag anyway.’

‘All right, love. Give us a ring when you get home.’

‘I will. Bye, Ma. Love you!’

I drove the short distance to the house, which was technically outside town, but shops and such had crept closer in the last few years. Da stuck his head out the barn door and waved when I stopped the car. I waved back, but headed into the house first to pack up. I stripped my bed and carried the sheets to the laundry, texting Ma to let her know to switch them later. Then I carried my things to the car and walked down to the barn.

‘Hey, Da. I’m heading back to Dublin.’

‘Okay, Gueneviere. We’re glad you came.’ He pulled me into a bear hug. ‘Love you, sweetheart.’

‘Love you too, Da.’ We drew apart and I kissed his cheek. ‘I told Ma I’d call when I get home. My sheets are in the wash. Will you change them over before Ma gets home?’

‘I’ll try to remember.’

‘If not, I did let Ma know, but it would be nice if it were already done for her.’ I gave him a cheeky grin. We were always conspiring to do nice things for Ma. ‘I’d better go. I’ll see you in a month, if nothing comes up between now and the end of school.’

‘Okay, love. Bye.’

 

I stopped to fill up the car and grab a drink, texting Norah that I was headed back. I enjoyed the two-hour drive, belting out my favorite songs and languishing in the cool breeze. I knew my hair would be a tangled mess, but it was short and easy to manage.

I parked in my dearly-bought spot where my car spent most of the time holding down the pavement. Norah was originally from Dublin and nearly always used public transportation, though she did borrow the car occasionally. I mainly only had the car to go to the barn and back to Clonmel. In town, I also preferred to take the train or bus—traffic in Dublin was horrific.

I got my bags from the boot and headed up the stairs. Norah usually had class on Mondays, so I didn’t expect her to be home. As I unlocked the door, I heard my mobile playing ‘Moonlight Sonata’ at me. I got in the door, dumped my bags on the floor and fished my phone out of my purse.

The number wasn’t familiar. ‘Hello,’ I said, breathing hard.

‘Hello.’ It was a deep, male voice that hesitated briefly. ‘You left your name with Fogarty.’ His voice was vaguely familiar. It was probably someone I’d known growing up.

‘I did! Are you one of the people she told me about?’

‘Exactly what did she tell you?’ Irritation tinged his voice.

‘Nothing specific. Just that she knew people that might be able to help me learn more about a certain book. She said that they wouldn’t want her to give their names, so I gave her mine.’

‘True, we’re very protective of our identities. But you’re descended from the Ó Meadhras?’

‘I am, on my mother’s side. She was an O’Mara before she married Da.’

‘Where did you acquire this book? Was it in your family?’

‘No, I found it tucked away in the Trinity library.’

‘Are you simply curious about the book, or have you been able to use it?’

‘I’ve used it a bit, but I assume there’s more to this than just the book.’

‘There is. You should have been apprenticed when you were young, but no one in the Ó Meadhra family has had the power in over two hundred years. They diluted the blood too much marrying outside mage families. We used to check each generation, but stopped with your great-grandmother. No one expected the ability to show up again. It usually doesn’t once it’s disappeared from a line.’

‘May I ask who you are? Your voice is familiar.’ I held the phone with my shoulder as I picked up my things to move them to my room.

‘My name is Art. I’m not comfortable revealing more than that right now, but I know who you are. Ordinarily, you’d have been apprenticed to us, but as you’re in Dublin, I’ll give your information and vouch for you to someone there who can mentor you.’ Art, Art—there were a few Arts in Clonmel. It narrowed it down some, but I’d think about it later.

‘Thank you. We had no idea this was even possible, though my mother suspected from studying her genealogy.’

‘Have you spoken of this with her?’

‘I went to my parents for help. I thought Ma might know something about it.’

‘We don’t tell outsiders about our magic.’ His voice was now disapproving.

I huffed out a breath as I dropped my bags on the bed. ‘They’re my parents—hardly outsiders. They won’t speak of it to anyone.’

‘There are consequences for those who share our world unwisely.’

‘Is that a threat?’ I wasn’t sure whether to be scared or angry.

‘Merely a warning. If your parents tell anyone, you will be punished and their memories erased.’

‘Good to know. They won’t tell anyone.’ I wasn’t even going to consider telling him about Norah. I’d warn her to act clueless.

‘Someone will be in touch.’ He hung up abruptly.

 

I slowly lowered my phone to the bed. That had been a little disturbing, and now I was worried for my parents and Norah. I decided to caution them to be careful of letting anything slip.

I picked up my phone again and dialled Ma. ‘Hi, I’m home. I just got a call from someone about the book. Apparently, I wasn’t to have told anyone about this and was warned of dire consequences if you or Da say anything. So just be careful, okay?’

‘We will, love. Are you going to be okay?’

‘Oh, ya. They’re just trying to protect themselves.’ We hung up a few minutes later. I unpacked, throwing dirty clothes in the laundry and stowing my toiletries, finally plopping down on the couch with my laptop and all the photocopied records. I was tired, but wanted to start going through the information we’d collected.

An hour later, I started when I heard someone at the door. I assumed it was Norah, but I was still tense until the door opened.

‘Hiya, Gwennie! Glad you’re back.’

I sighed and slumped back on the couch. ‘Hey! You startled me.’

‘Sorry. How did things go?’

‘I learned a lot. Found out I wasn’t supposed to have told anyone, so you need to be careful not to let on that you know.’

‘What about your ma and dad?’

‘I warned them, and the mages know that they know, but I didn’t mention you. Especially when he started talking about punishments for telling people.’

Norah’s eyes widened. ‘Punishments?’

I didn’t want her to worry too much, so I fudged a bit. ‘Yeah. For me, not you. Anyway, someone in Dublin is supposed to be contacting me—a mentor.’

‘Wow. And what’s all this?’ She gestured to the papers scattered across the coffee table and couch.

‘Records from Clonmel on my family and some others in the area. Get this: apparently, my ancestors had some kind of feud going with another family.’

‘Crazy! Well, I’ll leave you to it. Unlike some others, I worked all day and had class.’ She grinned at me over her shoulder as she went down the hall to her room.

‘Brat!’ I hollered after her, going back to my reading as I heard Norah puttering around getting ready for bed.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~    ~

If I had ever considered telling anyone that I suspected magic was real, it would have been my best friend, Norah. Being Irish, it was natural to be raised on stories of the sióga and the little people—-Da telling me stories nearly every night, and Ma bringing home books from the library where she worked. Many think Ireland is a land full of fairies and leprechauns, but, while I enjoyed the stories, I never truly believed in these magical tales once I was old enough to know better.

I loved my Da’s stories so much that I recently completed a Master’s degree in Irish history and mythology at Trinity University—-that’s where I first learned the truth. Many early Irish writings spoke of magic and the sióga. The ancients spoke as if they truly believed and even claimed to have seen and interacted with magical beings. My work for school was scholarly and skeptical, but inside I was beginning to hope that world was real.

When I finally stumbled into the truth, I was in my last term of my Master of Philosophy in Medieval Language, Literature and Culture, after my undergrad in Ancient and Medieval History and Culture (I spent a lot of time reading).

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~    ~

Chapter 1

I practically lived in the library at Trinity, reading nearly every book they had in my areas of study (and quite a few that weren’t). I had a table all but reserved in the research library, staking out my place in the morning and remaining most of the day in my little corner. It was rare that anyone beat me there, and only a new student would take my usual spot. I could generally tell that someone had taken my table by the glances I got from other regulars as I entered.

One morning, in the April of my final term, I found a book that changed my life. Hidden behind several medieval literature books, it was barely larger than my hand, several hundred years old and written in…modern Irish? That didn’t make sense. The book was ancient, probably over five hundred years old, so the language should not have been so easy to understand, but it looked original to the book. I took the small volume back to my study table to examine.

It didn’t take me long to realize that it was a book of spells. My excitement over reading this old text, though confounded by the modern language, was eclipsed by a strange feeling in my center. A shaft of sunlight fell over my shoulder and I felt a warmth in my chest as I read the first page:

Nuair a gheobhas iníon an draoi

A bealach féin léi

Is nuair a léifeas sí an leabhar i solas an lae,

Tiocfaidh méadú ar a cuid cumhachtaí

Go dtí go n-aithneofar í

Mar an bandraoi is láidre in Éirinn.

Weird. I didn’t know what it meant, but it had my interest. I spent most of the day reading and translating the book into English, when I should have been working on my thesis. I typed up my translations as I read: there were spells to make fireballs, to create water, to levitate objects and to repair things. Some of them required specific gestures, but most just consisted of a few words. Each page also had a description of the spell’s effects and looked something like this:

Solas A spell to create light. Hold your hand with palm up in front of you. Recite the incantation solas while concentrating on your palm. A small orb of light will appear, allowing the mage to see a distance of approximately 20 feet in the dark.

I hardly noticed the time going until a gangly, pimply library aide came by and told me it was time to close. And here I did something of which I wasn’t particularly proud. The book of spells obviously wasn’t part of the library’s collection—-it had no labels or call numbers and wasn’t listed in the library database—-so I quietly slipped it into my bag as I packed up.

I caught the bus back to the flat I shared with Norah, not too far from campus. We didn’t see each other much during the week. We both were in grad school and working more than one job, so I wasn’t surprised Norah wasn’t home. I went to bed, almost too excited to sleep, as I was eager to continue my research of the spell book.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning I attended my one class for the day, then decided to work on my thesis outside. It was actually warm; a rare occurrence in my homeland. I worked on my thesis (the transmission of early Irish writings from 1000-1500 C.E.) for a couple of hours before the lure of the magic book became too much. I chewed my lip as I flipped through the pages, finally stopping on one appropriate to the setting.

There was a flower stem right next to me from which the head had been plucked, so I cupped one hand over the stem, held the book in the other, and whispered, ‘Fás bláth.’

There was a brief green glow as warmth travelled out from my chest and to my hand. My eyes widened in shock to see a perfect daisy in full bloom when I lifted my hand. I also felt tired, like I’d been running, and decided I ought to head back to the flat. I needed to think—-even though I’d seen it with my own eyes, it was still difficult to believe that I’d just done magic.

++++++++++

The first thing the man noticed was a flash of red under a tree. A pretty, young woman with chin-length, red curls, a typically pale Irish complexion and a knee-length, brightly-colored dress was sitting on the ground with books, papers and a laptop computer scattered around her. The second thing the man noticed was a green glow around her hand.

He pulled up short, staring hard, then quickly walked off, yanking his mobile out of a pocket at the same time. His boss would be interested. The girl should not have been practicing magic in the open like that. It had also looked like a fairly elementary spell. Someone her age should be far beyond that level. Odd.

He was ordered to find her the next day and start keeping an eye on her.

++++++++++

To my surprise, when I returned home that evening, Norah was home and cooking dinner. A quick note about Norah and why we’re such good mates:

We became friends as children out of mutual defence at our gaelscoil in Clonmel, a small town about two hours from Dublin. Many of the children there were from wealthy families and not friendly to those of us whose parents were more middle class. Norah’s parents are accountants and mine are a farrier and a librarian—all respectable occupations, but the other families did not see them as particularly worthwhile, or worthy of sending their children to the exclusive school.

Norah’s a few inches taller and several shades darker than I am, with gorgeous chocolate eyes and even crazier curls than I have. She tended to favor dark jeans and nice blouses.

‘Hey, Norrie.’ I gave her a quick hug. ‘I’m wrecked. I need to take a nap.’

‘Kay. Food’ll be ready in about an hour. I’ll wake you.’

‘Thanks, a chara.’

‘Gwennie! Food’s on!’

Jerking awake, I noted it was just over an hour later. I hauled myself out of bed and to the table. As we chatted about the last few days, I didn’t mention the spell book or what had happened earlier, though I really wanted to unload, knowing Norah would help me figure out what to do, once I convinced her. However, I decided to hold my peace for the moment and do some more research. My suspicions that the supposed magic-users in my readings for school might have been actual magic-users seemed to be confirmed—I’d have to look at all my notes and research in an entirely different light.

After cleaning up, Norah turned on the television and I settled down in the living room with headphones to study (a.k.a. do more research on the spell book).

~~~~~~~~~~

Though I didn’t have class the next day, I did have to work. I loved both my jobs: grooming and exercising horses at a veterinary and shelving books at a public library.

I spent a happy morning with the horses, then shelved two carts worth of books at the library. As I paused several times in one aisle with my cart, I suddenly wondered if there was a magical way to accomplish this task. Then I wondered if maybe there was a way to communicate with animals. It would be amazing to be able to actually ask the horses at the veterinary what was wrong with them. Sometimes, diagnoses are little more than highly-educated guesses on the doctors’ parts.

After work, I headed to the research library and focused on my thesis for a couple of hours before allowing myself to return to the spell book. Those at the beginning of the book seemed relatively simple and, as so often happens in a training manual, the tasks and instructions seemed to gain complexity further into the book.

Glancing around, I flipped back to the front of the book. No one was near, so I whispered a spell from one of the first pages: ‘Solas.’

A small, green ball of light began glowing softly above my palm. I was beginning to understand that these spells were extremely literal—solas means light—and now I was holding a ball of light. I didn’t know what to do with it.

‘Oh!’ I whispered, realising what the very first spell in the book must be for. ‘Scoirfidh!’ The light disappeared. ‘That makes sense. Learn how to end a spell before learning how to cast one.’

Okay, I could deal with this. Magic is real, and I could perform it. I didn’t know what to do with myself, except that I needed to talk to someone. Maybe the magic was from the book, but maybe it was me. My mother would know if anyone in our family history claimed to have magic. She’d studied our genealogy back about a thousand years; but… I wanted to talk to Norah first. I sent her a quick text:

Me: Will you be home later?

Norah: Pick up dinner and I’ll meet you at the flat in an hour.

Me: <thumbs up>

I stopped at one of our favorite Chinese restaurants and got all of Norah’s favorites, beating her home and setting the table while mulling over what spell to show her. I didn’t want to scare her, but wanted it to be unmistakable.

A key scraped in the lock and Norah came in, dumping her bookbag on the sofa.

‘Hey! What’s the story?’ Norah asked as she came to the table and started opening Chinese containers.

‘Why don’t we eat first? I have something to tell you. It will be surprising, but it’s not bad. At least I don’t think so. I hope it’s not too crazy for you. I hope you don’t think I’m crazy…’

Norah held up a hand and raised one eyebrow. ‘You’re blathering. It’s making me nervous.’

‘Ack! Sorry, let’s just eat. How was your day?’

‘Same old: numbers. You?’

‘Pretty much the usual. You should see the palomino that came in to the vet today. Gorgeous! Fortunately, he only has a long, shallow cut down one leg. His owner freaked and thought it was far worse.’ Norah didn’t like horses. I was babbling again.

We fell silent for a few minutes as we ate. I couldn’t help fidgeting and Norah was obviously dying of curiosity, but she held it in check, mostly, as she shovelled food into her mouth. When we had both finished, I got up and started to clear the table.

That was it for Norah. ‘Gwennie! I swear if you don’t tell me what’s going on right now, I’m going to pummel you!’

‘Okay, okay.’ I set the plates back on the table. ‘Keep an open mind and try not to flip out or anything. I only just discovered this myself and didn’t know what to do.’

I stepped into the kitchen and grabbed a clear glass goblet, setting it on the table.

Pointing to the goblet, I said, ‘Líontar le huisce.’ The goblet slowly filled with water. Norah stared at it for a minute, then her eyes darted back and forth between me and the goblet a couple of times.

‘You’re learning magic tricks?’ she finally asked.

‘Not tricks.’ I retrieved the spell book from my bag and handed it to Norah. She sat at the table, still peering at the now full glass of water before looking at what she had in her hands.

The cover said Leabhar Draíochta, Magic Book. Norah stared at the cover for a moment, then looked at me incredulously.

‘For real?’

‘Apparently. It was at the Trinity library, behind some other books, but it’s not part of the library’s collection. And look what the first page says.’ I showed Norah the translation on my laptop so she wouldn’t have to decipher it herself. Even though we’d gone to the same school, Irish was never easy for her.

When mage’s daughter

Finds her way

And reads the book in light of day,

Her power will grow

Until she be known

As Eire’s most powerful mage.

‘I don’t really understand it, except those were the circumstances when I read it. The sun was shining on me when I read it and I have some kind of power now. I don’t know if it comes from the book, or if I have power that the book unlocked… You look a little shell-shocked.’

Norah stared at me, dazed, for a few more seconds before she finally blinked. ‘I think shocked is a bit of an understatement. Flabbergasted, gobsmacked, stupefied, thunderstruck—any of those might do. Magic isn’t real! This isn’t possible.’

‘Look at the goblet. It’s one of ours. Nothing special or tricky about it.’

Norah picked it up, tilted it, sniffed the contents, even took a sip—gutsy, considering.

‘I just can’t imagine how this is possible,’ she murmured.

‘I could show you another spell if you want. I’ve made a flower bloom and created a ball of light in my hand.’ I was excited to show off a little now that I’d told her.

‘Let me see the light. I don’t think you’d be able to do that with tricks. I half think you’re putting me on.’ She stood with her arms folded, eyeing me doubtfully.

‘I promise I’m not!’ Putting my hand out in front of me, I repeated the spell from earlier: ‘Solas,’ saying it clearly so Norah could hear. The light popped into existence above my hand, even faster than it had previously, but this time it was more difficult to maintain. It was my third spell for the day, and clearly too much for a novice spellcaster. Norah came closer and got a decent look at it before it fizzled out on its own. I was suddenly exhausted.

‘Is that all the time it lasts, then?’

‘No, earlier I had to end the spell, but each one takes a lot of energy. I’ve already cast two others today, so I just couldn’t hold it. I feel as if I’ve run a marathon. Are you okay? Do you believe me? Any questions? Not that I’ve any answers at the moment.’

‘I don’t know what to ask right now. Let me think about it tonight.’

We headed off to our respective rooms, and I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

~~~~~~~~~~

When I woke in the morning, I knew I hadn’t moved at all—my right arm was completely numb. After shaking it out, I got ready for the day, throwing on barn clothes. As I followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen, I wondered how Norah was going to react to me. I carried my riding boots to the living room and dropped them by the door.

‘Morning.’ I was a bit tentative. Norah looked up from the eggs she was frying. I could see her exhaustion in the dark circles under her eyes and the flat line of her mouth.

‘Are you okay?’

‘I believe you, but I’m worried about you. We don’t know what kind of effect this could have on you. You already said that doing the spells makes you tired. What happens if you cast one for which you’re not strong enough? Will it kill you?’

‘I don’t know, but the power, or ability or whatever, must get stronger. The first spell I did was from close to the middle of the book and really wore me out. Yesterday, I cast three before I was tired. I think I’ll be safe enough if I stick to the first few spells for now. It seems like they’re arranged by difficulty.’

‘Okay, but please be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you. And you don’t want anyone to catch you either.’

‘True. Maybe I should stick to practicing at home.’

‘You should. Then I can keep an eye on you.’

‘Love you too!’ I grinned at her. ‘Thanks for believing me.’ I hugged her from behind as she flipped the eggs in the pan.

Norah smiled over her shoulder, then drooped a bit.

‘Why don’t you go back to bed? I’m going to see Mr. Darcy before work.’

‘I think I will after I eat. You want some?’

‘Sure, and I’ll clean up.’

After we ate and I cleaned up, Norah headed for her room, pausing in her doorway. ‘Have fun at the barn. No more magic ‘til you get home!’

‘Yes, Ma.’ I stuck my tongue out at her.

Norah responded in kind as she bumped her door shut. I grinned to myself as I headed off to my favorite place in the world.

My parents have a bit o’ land, and my father works out of the barn on their property. I had my own pony (and the care of it) at the age of five, and my first horse at fifteen. A man had brought the tall black-and-white spotted Appaloosa to have new shoes fit before he was sold. I fell head over heels for him and begged Ma and Da for him. They agreed, and I named him after my favorite Jane Austen character. We competed in dressage when I was a teen, but I hadn’t had time since starting at university. I did spend as much time with him as my schedule allowed, but I still only made it a couple of times a week, paying for someone to care for him the rest of the time.

‘Hello, my handsome lad!’ Darcy put his head over the door of his stall when he heard my voice. ‘We’ll have to have a quick ride today. I’ve got work.’

As I put on Darcy’s halter and led him out, I heard an unwelcome male voice from down the aisle. ‘Still talking to your horse like he can answer back?’

I paused and sighed. Nobody in the barn really liked Duncan, as he took no responsibility for his own horse, only paid for the most expensive care. He owned the most valuable horse and gear in the stable and liked everyone to know it. For some reason, he’d decided I was worthy of dating him, despite his distaste in his perception of my low origins, and would not take the hint that I wasn’t interested.

‘He’s a better conversationalist than most people I know.’ I took Duncan in from his perfectly styled hair to his shiny boots.

‘Surely you’d rather have an intelligent conversation,’ he sneered.

‘Sure and you don’t fit the bill.’ I started grooming Darcy, pointedly turning my back on Duncan, silently begging him to go away.

I took Darcy to the large outdoor dressage arena. The stable was blessed with a huge acreage, allowing for jumping, dressage, and even a few western riders (rare in Ireland). I led him to a fence so I could mount. Sixteen-hand horse and five-foot-one woman is a challenging mix. I was thankful Darcy was patient and steady, because some of the things I’d had to climb on in order to mount would have sent lesser horses into paroxysms of bucking.

Once mounted, I guided Darcy through several simple dressage routines to warm up. As I finished the last one, I beamed as I heard the stable owner’s voice on the intercom. ‘Do you want to practice your music routine?’

‘Sure, Casey! Thanks.’ After a moment, Edvard Grieg’s ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’ crackled through the speakers.

We waited for the right moment, then we danced. Of all the competing we’d done, freestyle was our favorite.

As we finished, I realised Duncan had been watching but ignored him as I brought Darcy back to the barn and put him up, kissing him on the nose before heading to the vet for more horse time.

I stopped for food on the way home from work, ravenous because I’d forgotten to eat lunch. I entered the flat quietly in case Norah was still asleep, but she was sitting on the floor in the sitting room, surrounded by accounting textbooks. I waved, but headed straight to the shower. Afterward, I grabbed my own books and laptop and joined Norah in the sitting room. We enjoyed studying together when we could.

‘Music?’ I asked.

‘Not today.’ Norah didn’t look up from her reading.

I nodded, put in my earbuds, brought up some classical music and settled in to do my own studying.

We worked for a couple of hours before Norah stood, stretched and left the room for a minute. She detoured to the kitchen on her way back and brought a plate of fruit and cheese back with her.

‘Have you not eaten today?’ I questioned severely. She only grabbed food like that when she hadn’t.

‘No,’ Norah answered guiltily. ‘I started studying as soon as I woke and haven’t stopped.’

‘Norrie!’ She’d done this once early on when we’d first moved into the flat. I did not want to repeat the experience of rushing her to hospital for extremely low blood sugar.

‘I know, I know.’

Norah sat on the floor again and held the plate toward me. I grabbed a grape and chunk of cheese and settled back again. We munched in silence for a few moments.

‘I’d like to try some more spells this afternoon. Do you need more study time?’

‘No, I think I’m set for now. What are you going to do?’

‘Er…’ I flipped through the front of the spell book and stopped on a page. ‘Ah! This one repairs small things. Let me see if I can fix that rip in the couch.’

I stood and turned to face our secondhand, blue couch, stretching my hand toward the 3-inch rip in the microfibre, and said, ‘A dheisiú.’

The tear knit itself together until it disappeared completely. We both stared for a minute, then looked at each other.

Norah grinned. ‘That is brilliant!’

‘I know! It was hard to believe it at first, even seeing the evidence.’ I paused for a moment, contemplating. ‘So, do you think I ought to talk to my ma? Or both parents?’

‘They were the ones telling you fairy stories all your life. How do you think they’d take it?’

‘I never thought they believed they were any more than just stories. Mostly, I’m just afraid that they’ll think I’m crazy.’

‘Well, you can always give them a demonstration. It’s pretty convincing.’ She chuckled wryly.

‘True. You know…I don’t have class on Monday. If I left this evening, I could spend tomorrow in Clonmel and head back Monday morning. The library’s pretty flexible about letting people off when needed.’

‘Go for it, then.’

My boss at the library had no problem with me taking off Monday, so I dialled my ma. She answered after the third ring.

‘Hello, sweetheart!’

‘Hi, Ma. Do you mind if I come down for the rest of the weekend?’

‘Of course not! We’re always happy to see you. Any particular reason? You don’t usually make unplanned trips.’

‘I need to talk to you and Da. It’s a bit odd, but nothing to worry about… I’m just going to pack a few things and head down this evening. I’ll come back Monday.’

‘Sounds mysterious. You sure nothing’s wrong?’

‘Nope, nothing wrong. I’ll explain when I get there.’

‘Okay, love.’

We signed off, and I hurried to my room to pack a small bag. Norah went into the toilet and came back with my toiletries bag.

‘Thanks, Norrie.’

‘Make sure I got everything. What else can I do?’

‘Grab my books from the sitting room? I might have time to do some work.’

Norah left the room again and returned with my books. I sorted which I wanted to take, including the spell book, and was soon headed out the door to our rented space near the flat where we kept my cute, green Beetle.