Page 73 of Charmed

I immediately protested. “But your powers are nearly depleted. Are you sure you want to use the last of them for this spell?” He wouldn’t have been compelled to help if not for my unnecessary suggestion.

His hesitation only lasted a moment. “If this uses the last of my magic, at the very least I can be assured that I used my powers to assist my subjects at least once.”

He stepped up to wrap his arms around me from behind and rest his hands over mine. I stiffened before allowing myself to melt against his chest, a cocoon of warmth and security.

His lips tickled my ear as he leaned in to whisper instructions. “Conjure an image of a floating river and trace a mental path between it and the well. Neither distance nor the objects that stand in the way matter, so long as you visualize this binding thread of golden light that weave these two points together.”

I did my best to obey, but it was nearly impossible to wrangle my faltering concentration from his heated proximity in order to focus on the intricate spellwork. The exertion was exhausting, but I felt sustained by his presence as well as the last of his magic that seeped from his touch to weave seamlessly with mine.

An inaudible hum vibrated through my body as our powers joined. I felt the sensation of building pressure before water suddenly tumbled from my hand, splashing into the well. I gave a gasp of surprised joy and Alden tightened his hand around mine, gently helping me hold it in place to fill the well; it was a long, arduous process that left my powers nearly spent, even as more would be required for the rest of the spell.

For the next layer, Alden murmured instructions on how to mold the path I’d created for my summoning charm into a magical irrigation system, from which he needed to perform the final piece of the restorative spell.

Together we cast our magic across the dry landscape like a brush of watercolor. Sparkling, life-giving water flowed in all directions along magical channels that led to every field in the hamlet, not only saturating the parched soil but breathing life into the wilted plants. Streaks of green crept along each leaf, and the bowed stems quivered as they slowly straightened. When the enchantment faded, I stared at our handiwork in wonder. My creativity combined with Alden's knowledge and careful attention to theory had made magic so much more interesting and powerful, the perfect complement of both of our strengths.

Alden fought for breath, but seemed pleased when he met my gaze. “Good work, Mae. With your talent, you have great magical potential.” He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, a sensation that lingered even as he stepped away.

When we turned from the well, we found many of the villagers gathered around us, staring at their replenished fields in wide-eyed wonder. Their gratitude followed us as we walked along our invisible spell and Alden taught me first how to check the durability of a charm. Upon discovering some of the roads flooded from weak areas in the irrigation system that had cracked due to my inexperience, he next taught me how to alter spells that had already been cast in order to patch them. Each bit of imparted knowledge watered my parched curiosity.

In one particularly wet and muddy section of road I slipped; Alden laced his hand through mine to keep me from falling…and didn’t relinquish his hold even after I’d steadied on my feet. Our hands remained entwined while we strolled the village, a gesture that along with Alden’s earlier kiss stoked my hope in the possibility that even after we’d reverted to our previous relationship of mentor and apprentice, our relationship was deepening into somethingmore.

As we wandered, I took great pleasure in watching Alden interact with the villagers. I was content to remain in the background and allow him the opportunity to get to know some of his subjects and respond to their needs, taking nearly as much pleasure in each interaction as Alden seemed to. With my home’s seclusion and Corbin’s needs, I’d never had much of a relationship with my own village, something I now hoped to remedy when I returned home.

My heart warmed with every glimpse of Alden’s joy, softer than the excitement magic had brought him but just as tender. “You seem to be having fun,” I murmured during a pause between exchanges.

He smiled. “I always associated my title with a list of duties or as a measuring stick of my worth that took away my personal accomplishments, but today has helped me better understand its true purpose.”

I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m so glad. Even without your powers, you deserve to have purpose.”

“As do you. I haven’t forgotten to help you find your own.”

My lips twitched. “Performing such a service while also taking charge of my magical education? What a thorough mentor you are.”

He winked. “You are my dearest apprentice.” Yet I sensed a deeper magic lay beyond the precious sentiment, one I yearned to explore further.

We slowed when I spotted a crippled boy near Corbin’s age sitting in the shade of an elm on the outskirts while his friends played, hungrily taking in their warm smiles and contagious laughter.

My breath caught at the longing filling his eyes, the bravery he attempted to foster, making me feel as if I was looking not at a stranger but instead at my dear brother.

“Teach me the spell,” I pleaded with Alden. “Anyspell.”

His expression sobered once he caught sight of what had captured my attention. “Magic can’t cure everything, Mae.”

Deep down Iknewthat, else Corbin would have been healed the moment I discovered my powers. But that unwilling understanding didn’t lessen my crushing helplessness, especially when such an admission would force me to also come to terms with the fact that despite my dearest wish, I wasn’t strong enough to save Corbin either.

Alden’s faded powers would eliminate him from the competition, forever barring me from the cure I’d rested all my hopes on. Though deep down I knew I couldn’t always be his protector, I wasn’t strong enough to relinquish my control by giving up the possibility.

Suddenly I found myself facing a similar existential crisis to the one Alden himself was experiencing. While Alden had lost the opportunity to fulfill his lifelong dream due to circumstances beyond his control, my own purpose had always been fixed on on my brother’s precarious health.

“There still must besomethingwe can do for him,” I pleaded.

He considered. “Perhaps we can cheer him up, just as my enchanted bluebells brought joy for your brother.”

I frowned. “Will that truly be enough?”

His lips twitched. “You’re the one who admonished me not to make magic so complicated.”

I never imagined I’d find myself in a position where I’d be forced to take my own advice. Such magic seemed far too simple in the face of trials and heartache to make much of a difference…even as I’d witnessed firsthand how such a simple gesture had delighted Corbin, even when it couldn’t take away his pain. Could the service I’d rendered all of these years truly be enough to make a difference, both for Corbin and this little crippled boy now?

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