Replaying the vision again and again until my skin’s gone all pruney and it’s time to move on. Stepping out of the bath and into my robe, cleansed and purified and ready to proceed as I assemble my tools and light the incense, passing the knife through the smoke three times, as I say:
I call upon Air to cast out any dark energies from this athame
Allowing only the light to remain
I call upon Fire to blaze away all negativity from this athame
Allowing only the good to remain
Repeating the verse for the rest of the elements, calling upon Water and Earth, to cast out all dark and leave only light, concluding the consecration by sprinkling salt over the knife and calling upon the highest of magical powers to see that it’s done.
Cleansing and consecrating the room as I walk three times around it, waving my incense as I say:
I walk this circle thrice around
To consecrate and empower this ground
Evoking the power and protection of thee
Drawing their magical powers to me
Forming a magick circle by sprinkling salt onto the floor, not unlike Rayne did with Damen just a few weeks before. Taking my place in the center and envisioning a cone of power rising around me as I arrange my crystals, light my candles, and anoint myself with oil, calling upon the elements of Fire and Air to aid in my spell, then closing my eyes until a white silk cord and a replica of Roman manifests right before me.
Where you go my spell will follow
Where you hide my spell will find
Where you rest my spell will lie
With this cord your actions cease
With my blood your knowledge released
With this spell I bind thee to me
Raising my athame and slicing it across my palm, tracing the curve of my lifeline as a rush of wind sweeps through the circle and an applause of thunder claps overhead. My hair whipping about as I squint against the swirling gale, my blood letting onto the cord until it’s soaked and red. Rushing to secure it around Roman’s neck, my gaze fixed on his, willing him to provide what I seek, before banishing him as though he never appeared.
I rise, body shaking, sweating, elated to know that it’s over and done. Just a matter of time before the antidote to the antidote is in my possession and Damen and I join as one.
The wind begins to slow as the snap crackle of electricity starts to abate, and I’m collecting the stones and snuffing the candles when Romy and Rayne burst through the door, mouths open, eyes wide, as they stand there and gape.
“What have you done?” Rayne cries, gaze darting from my magick salt circle, to my collection of tools, to my blood-covered knife.
I look at them, gaze steady and secure, as I say, “Relax. It’s over. I fixed it. And now it’s just a matter of time before everything is put right again.”
About to step out of the circle when Romy shouts, “Stop!”
Hand held before her, eyes blazing as her sister adds, “Don’t move. Please, just trust us this time and do what we say.”
I pause, glancing between them, wondering what could possibly be the big deal. The spell worked. I can feel its energy still thrumming inside me, and now it’s just a matter of time until Roman appears—
“You’ve really done it this time,” Rayne says, shaking her head. “Don’t you know that the moon is dark? You’re never supposed to do magick on the dark moon—never! It’s a time for contemplation, meditation, but you never, ever, practice unless you’re practicing the dark arts.”
I glance between them, wondering if she’s serious, and if so, what difference it could possibly make. If the spell worked, it worked. The rest is just details. Right?
Her twin chiming in to add, “Who did you call upon to aid you?”
I think back on my rhyme, the one I was pretty proud of for making up on the fly, recalling the line: Evoking the power and protection of thee, and repeating it to her.