“No, not really,” Tilly said, but Chloe didn’t look convinced. Maxwell ignored Jesse’s protective lurking and moved closer to her, taking her hand.
“It’ll be fine,” he said, his voice low. He squeezed her hand, so warm in his, and Chloe looked up at him gratefully. He ignored the indignant expression on Jesse’s face entirely.
“So, what do we have to do?” he asked, not letting go of the warm little hand.
“Well, I’ve got the Merthyr Tydfil knife, the Pheballium, and the stalagmite here,” Tilly pointed at a blanket on the ground. “I just need the objects from both of you.” She paused, kneeling to light a camp stove. On top of the stove was an enormous cast-iron pot full of what looked like, but probably wasn’t, water.
“Well, Frankie Bean, we’ve had some good times together,” Chloe sighed and released Maxwell’s hand to pull a well-worn doll with plump cheeks and prominent front teeth from her pocket. She fingered the doll’s matted hair for a moment and then set her on the blanket.
“You still had that thing?” Jesse raised his eyebrows. “That’s the possession you treasure most?”
“You know why,” Chloe said quietly, and Jesse looked ashamed for just a moment.
“I do,” he said. “Sorry you have to give her up.”
“It’s fine,” Chloe shook her head.
“And you, Maxwell?” Tilly looked at him expectantly.
“Let me guess, playing cards from the first casino in Vegas?” Chloe looked up at him. “A Faro set from the 19th Century?”
Maxwell forced a chuckle. “No, actually,” he said. “It’s…it’s this.” Carefully, he took off the chain with the pocket watch from around his neck and laid it on the blanket reverentially. He couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him.
“A watch?” Chloe looked confused. “I didn’t expect that.”
“It was my brother’s,” Maxwell explained, feeling emotion well up inside him. He clenched his fists, forcing it back down. “He was my best friend. Best man I ever knew. It’s the last thing I have left of his.”
Before Maxwell knew what was happening, arms were wrapped tight around him, and he looked down to see Chloe’s honey-coloured head underneath his chin. Awkwardly, under Jesse’s glare, he patted her back. “It’s okay,” he said. “I’ll still remember him. I don’t need the watch for that, not really.”
“Shall we get started, then?” Tilly asked, lining up the objects in a row.
“Wait!” Chloe said, and she bent down, pulling out her phone. “I’ll take some photos of your brother’s watch. So you at least have that memory.”
Maxwell’s mouth went dry, and he felt like his chest was being squeezed by a vast and invisible hand. “That’s…” But he didn’t have any sufficient words. “Thank you, Chloe.”
He watched as Chloe knelt, snapping a few pictures of the watch where it lay on the blanket. Then she stood up. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
The ritual was cool to watch; Maxwell had to admit that Jesse was right on that front. When the cauldron had reached boiling point and the New Moon was high above them, Tilly had picked up the knife from the Welsh place with the unpronounceable name, tracing sparks and light through thin air, and plunged the knife right into the bubbling water. It had turned an unappealing shade of green, and she had nodded with satisfaction, adding in the Pheballium. Another wave of the knife, and the water was blue. Then she added the stalagmite.
Maxwell had thought it might make the water spill over, but the stalagmite had dissolved as soon as it touched the bubbling waters.
Finally, Tilly had arced the knife around both himself and Chloe, a look of intense concentration on her face.
“Throw them in,” she said, motioning with one hand. “Your precious objects, throw them in.”
And Maxwell had watched Chloe drop her precious doll into the water, a look of fierce determination on her face. He tried to borrow a little of Chloe’s fortitude as his brother’s watch disintegrated into nothing in the bubbling cauldron. Now his brother was truly gone.
He took Chloe’s hand once more, holding it tightly against his chest where his heart no longer beat and watched as Tilly arced the knife high into the sky and then down into the cauldron.
There was a sound like machine-gun fire, a brief flare of light all around them, and then—
“It’s done,” Tilly announced triumphantly. “It’s done!”
“Really?” Chloe looked around her. “I don’t feel any different.”
“Oh, well, you still have to drink the potion,” Tilly said, standing up and wiping her hands on her jeans.
“What potion?” Maxwell asked, frowning.