Charming the heart of a man is a lot more difficult than it sounds. Especially when it's already bewitched by somebody else - literally!
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All that former witch-in-training Avalon wanted was a simple job to get her life back on track and forget abo...
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The moment her feet touched the stone tiles of the terrace, the spell broke its hold on her. Avalon fell over as she lost her balance when the force let go of her so suddenly. Pain shot through her knees and hands as she caught herself before she landed flat on her nose. But that kind of pain was nothing compared to what she'd endured during the aquellare spell.
Taking deep breaths to calm herself, Avalon struggled to stand up, finding herself unable to. The rain hammered into her back, soaking her clothes in seconds. Immediately she was cold. After taking a few breaths to gather her wits, she raised her face away from staring at the tiles. The storm was going strong, the wind cutting and the rain falling like pricks against Avalon's skin. She had to blink rapidly, swiping a few hair strands out of her face for a clearer vision.
Six people she didn't know or recognise were gathered in a half circle on the edge of the terrace. Like her, they were crouching, drained from the efforts of the aquellare spell. Some even appeared to be unconscious. At the far end, an elderly woman lay on her side. Her face was hidden behind a mat of wet hair, but Avalon could make out the tremors shaking her body in the light of the terrace lamps. A middle-aged man with a woolen hat on his head knelt beside her, coughing madly even while carefully stroking the woman's arm and shoulder in a soothing way. Mother and son, probably. When the man felt her eyes on him, his face showed a mix of guilt and the hope for redemption. He didn't meet her gaze.
Avalon bit her lower lip, nodding her head as she looked away. Fidelia's coven wasn't to be blamed for this. They were Nina's victims just like herself. And a difficult spell such as they'd been forced to use wasn't to be trifled with if you didn't have enough magical power. It took what it needed, no matter how much or little you had to give. I hope she's going to be okay, Avalon thought in regards to the older woman, her mind otherwise oddly blank.
Her eyes wandered over the rest. Following the mother-son duo were two men, one of them lying on the floor, the other with his hands on his knees as he gasped for air. Next to him was another woman, sitting on her bum, face in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she weeped silently.
Then, at the other end of the half-circle, Avalon at last recognised the person standing there.
Fidelia's unruly hair was flat due to the heavy rain. Like the rest of them she was wet through and through, her clothes clinging to her. "I'm sorry," she said, wobbling on her feet. She shook her head repeatedly, pulling her arms around herself as she sank to the floor, continuously whispering the words, "She made us do it. I'm so sorry. She made us do it. I'm so sorry..."
It took her two tries to get up, but once she was on her own two feet again, Avalon went over to her. For a moment she wanted to rest a hand on the woman's shoulder in a sign of reassurance. But the pain from the spell was too fresh, and she ended up not even lifting a hand. Instead, she said, "I know." She sighed deeply as she watched the woman bow down. "I know."
"You need to leave," Fidelia said, sniffing soundly. "She will come for you."
