Page 32 of Magic Touch
"Oh?" Her hair is pulled up under a white bonnet, and she pours the tea into three white beveled cups.
Accepting her cup, Esme smiles. "Sir William managed a water spell, and no one got wet. It was quite well done."
"Excellent." Prudence claps. "Why do you look as if there is more to tell?" She focuses those gray eyes on me.
“When I concentrated on the water, I saw everything. Every part of everything. I heard heartbeats and intentions of beasts. The water looked to me as if it were thousands of smaller drops with air in between."
"You have sight. How interesting." She sips her tea.
Esme sits forward. "I have never heard of someone having sight for such a small thing."
Prudence shrugs. "It’s a gift. Though I'll not lie, there have been many with such sight that turn dark. It can be a great power to see what makes up the universe. In seeing so much, one's true vision can become blurred."
A rock forms in my gut. "This gift is evil?"
Holding up a hand, Prudence waves it in dismissal. "No. This is powerful and beautiful magic. I merely say that it is a great talent and can be used for evil. Imagine a person of dark heart knowing the nature of water, air, or another person."
"I have no wish to harm anyone. I only wish..." The heaviness inside me spreads to my heart and my head.
Esme's voice is soft. "What do you wish for?"
"It would be better if my magic was simple or ordinary." It's madness. "It would be better if I had no magic at all. Ignorance was bliss."
I plunk the biscuit on the saucer and put my tea on the table before getting up and staring out the window. It's so normal now, but I feel my magic pushing me to see the whole of it. Fighting the urge, I close my eyes.
"You should get some air," Prudence suggests.
Esme stands beside me and takes my hand. "Come, William. We'll go for that walk we talked about. It will help to clear your head."
Down the lane, away from the cottage, Esme keeps my hand in hers. When we pass the pond, we see Simon chasing something up a tree. At the narrow road, we turn left.
Letting go of my hand, Esme folds her arms, so she grips her elbows. "I think you misunderstand magic."
"Do I?" I miss her touch and wish we were the only two people in the country. It's hard to take a deep breath as the worry of darkness and doom fills me to the brim.
"How shall I explain?" She pauses and looks through the canopy of leaves to the blue sky. "Magic is like a coin. Each spell or expression has two sides. On one hand, it can be used for good, and on the other, it can be used for ill. The coin is not right or wrong, it is merely a tool. You are good, and so will use your gift for the light."
"I have done bad things." I want to keep it inside, but I blurt it out before I can stop myself. "In war, I did many things that cost the lives of many men."
"War is just as magic is. There is a job to be done, and it can be done for the good or the evil. You believed what you did for your country was for the side of right." She caresses my arm from shoulder to elbow before pulling away again.
"I'm sure the French soldiers thought they were right as well." Living with the memories of war is harder than anyone ever admits.
"How do I convince you of your own goodness? How do I make you see yourself as I see you?" Her voice is distant, as if she's speaking to herself rather than me.
What she asks is not possible. As the village comes into view, I stop and face her. "What good can the gift discovered today do in the world?"
She beams. "If you were a healer, seeing the essence of a sick person could show you how to treat their ailment. If you were an exorcist, you could see the curse as a blight, and with practice, destroy that which doesn't belong. If you decide to go back to your life as a gentleman, you might avoid pitfalls and wrongdoing by seeing the values of those you deal with. Pushing too hard, without permission, would be against coven law, but allowing others to reveal what they will is not harmful and can be very handy. Your magic is not evil, as you are a good and kind man with a gentle soul."
"Kind words." I wish they were true. The lives I took tell a different tale. "Let's see what the village has to offer."
A man walking toward us touches the brim of his cap. "Good to see you. The old mother hasn't been here in many years. I heard she'd come."
"Hello," Esme says.
A few feet farther, and a woman heavy with child stops us. "How long will the old mother stay? I would like her blessing." She rubs her stomach.
Wide-eyed, Esme holds up both hands and shrugs. "I cannot say for certain. Our plans are not firm. I will tell her of your request. What is your name?"
