The Gift of Magic

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Morgan stood staring at the pile of apples twenty yards from her willing them to move, but the only sign of movement was the wind stirring the leaves on the stems. Just like the day before, Peter had given her a task, then disappeared. Today's task was a spell that was supposed to make the apples move from one place to another, and whatever she'd been doing it was wrong because the apples stubbornly refused to move. She understood that it was up to her to learn what she needed to but a little more help might have made it easier.

Planting her feet, she concentrated on the apples, imagining them where she wanted them to be, then began to say the spell. She'd only gotten part of the way through the spell when her words twisted and something unintelligible came out of her mouth. Throwing the paper with the spell written on it to the ground, she stomped on it then over to a stump and sat down, cursing Peter under her breath.

When she heard someone clear their throat, she knew without looking that it was Devon, had known before she heard him that he was there. Looking up her eyes met his and she couldn't help but smile, “Why do you always seem to show up at the exact wrong time?”

Devon thought about that then said, “Are you sure it's the wrong time? Maybe I'm showing up at exactly the right time.”

“Don't tell me you're one of those look on the bright side of things kind of people.” Morgan said, with a scowl.

“I've found that it makes life a lot easier if you look for the good in things instead of the bad.” Devon said, walking over and picking up the page off the ground. “What are you trying to do?”

Morgan scowled at the apples, “Move them from there to there.” She said, gesturing to the pile of apples on one stump and the empty stump ten feet away.

“Well, that shouldn't be that hard.” Devon said, looking at the spell.

“Easy for you to say, every time I try to say the spell, the words won't come out right.” Morgan said, getting up and walking over to Devon.

“Okay, let me see you try.” Devon said, handing her the spell.

Morgan did exactly as she'd done each time before, getting half way through the spell before her tongue did something strange. “See what I mean. Why does that keep happening?”

Devon was pretty sure he knew what was wrong, and was surprised that Peter hadn't known, but then again Morgan's magic had been locked up for so long this might be something new. “I think I might know. But let's try something to see if I'm right.” Devon said, reaching into his pocket for a little black notebook.

He flipped though the pages, considering a few before he found what he wanted. “Okay, this is a simple spell I use every once in a while. I don't know if you're strong enough to make it work the first time, but give it a try.”

Morgan took the notebook from Devon and looked at the spell, it was only a few lines long and looked like a simple poem, like something a child would recite while skipping rope. When she opened her mouth to say the words nothing came out at first, then she concentrated harder and got the first three lines out. Then as if her mouth was separated from her brain, the next line came out garbled and backward, embarrassed, she handed Devon the notebook and retreated a few steps away from him.

Devon looked at Morgan, who had crossed her arms over her chest and was staring at the ground. “It's not your fault.” He said, crossing over to where she stood and tipping her head up with one finger. “You're just not the kind of witch who uses other witch’s spells. Other witch's will be able to use your spells, but theirs won't work for you.”

Morgan was having a hard time focusing on Devon's words, he'd only touched her with the tip of his finger, but that one touch had made her feel warm and slightly off balance. Trying to focus, she said, “I'm sorry, I don't think I understand.”

Devon stepped away from Morgan and began to explain. “Most witches spend their lives accumulating spells, they're passed down in families, shared between covens and recorded for future generations.” He began then paused to make sure she understood.

“Written down in family grimoires.” Morgan added, pleased when Devon nodded his head in agreement.

“The spell you're trying to use today is a very common spell for locomotion. It's been around forever, different versions can be found all over the world, but once a long time ago it was new.” Devon said, then a paused.

Morgan began to understand what he was trying to explain, “You're trying to say that some which a long time ago wrote this spell and shared it.” She said, looking at the spell again with new appreciation.

“Yes, and what you need to understand is that it's a rare talent to be able to write spells like this, spells that can survive the passage of time and still work. What you're holding in your hand really is magic, but for a witch like you it's worthless.” Devon said, then took the paper from her hand, scrunched it up and threw it on the ground.

Morgan stared at him shocked, “What's wrong with me? Why won't the spell work for me?” She asked, suddenly afraid that she'd never be the witch everyone thought she could be.

“You, Morgan are a spell maker.” Devon said, pointing his finger at her. When she shook her head, he said, “Close your eyes, now think about making those apples move. Now without thinking, say the first words that come to your mind.” Devon instructed.

Morgan did as he asked, “Apples get up and go.” Morgan said, then opened her eyes to find the apples had moved to the other stump. “But, I didn't…I mean all I said was….”

Devon burst out laughing, “That was almost too easy. I probably should have written that down, although I don't need to move apples very often.”

“This magic thing is fun.” Morgan said, beaming with pleasure at her accomplishment. “What was that other spell? The one in your notebook?”

“That spell's a bit more complicated. What you were doing was a locomotion spell, this spell,” Devon said, getting the notebook out and flipping to the page, “is more of a summoning spell. Here let me show you.”

He recited the words of the spell, repeating them several times, then snapped his fingers. Morgan sucked in her breath when a bag from a well known fast food restaurant appeared in front of her. “How did you do that?”

“With a spell.” Devon said, picking up the bag. “With a spell that I wrote myself.”

Morgan could smell the food and her stomach began to growl. But she ignored it and asked, “A spell you wrote yourself?”

Devon gestured for her to sit down in the grass under a tree and she did so, “I can write spells, all witches can, but not like you’ll be able to do someday. Come on let's eat this before it gets cold.” He said, handing her a burger and fries.

They were silent while they ate, Morgan's mind focused on what she'd learned, then it occurred to her that if it was that easy to get food, it might be just as easy to get anything. “Devon, if it was that easy to get this food, it must be easy to get other things. I mean a witch could write spells that would make them rich or popular or whatever they wanted.”

“That's true, and some do, but the thing that you have to remember is that there's always a price for magic. Some times the price is so small we don't even notice, like when you moved those apples, all it took was a little bit of your energy. I bet you didn't even notice.” Devon said, handing her some French fries.

Morgan munched on the fries, trying to remember what it had felt like to cast the spell. “I don't remember feeling anything different when I cast the spell.”

“When you cast a big spell, that price is higher and it isn't always just a matter of energy. Sometimes the price is much higher than that, especially when you're dealing with black magic.” Devon finished his lunch and began picking up their trash. “Black magic requires a much higher price, that's why most witches don't mess with it.”

Morgan thought about what he'd said for a while. “But how do you know the difference?” She finally asked, thinking about the spells at the back of the Bradbury Grimoire.

For the next few hours, Devon talked about magic, the good kind and the bad. Explained so much that had been just beyond Morgan's reach that she finally began to feel like she understood just a little about her abilities. It was like the pieces were finally beginning to fall into place and she couldn't help but think that Devon was one of those pieces, that he was supposed to be here to help her through this time in her life. He'd helped her to understand more in the last few hours than Peter had in days, and then there was the little matter of the attraction she felt for him.

It hadn't gone away, had in fact grown stronger, especially if she touched him. Unbidden the image of him kissing her came to her mind leaving her a little breathless, panicked she jumped to her feet and said, “It's getting late, I'd better get going. Grandmother will be worried.”

Devon jumped to his feet, “I'll walk with you.” He offered not ready to let her go yet, it had been one of the most wonderful days of his life, just being near Morgan made him feel good, like he was right where he was supposed to be.

“Okay.” Morgan said, then turned to start up the path but her foot got caught in a root and she began to fall. Before she could hit the ground, Devon caught her in his arms and crushed her to his chest. “Oh.” She said, breathlessly when a wave of pleasure washed over her, followed by a longing she'd never felt before.

“Are you okay?” Devon asked, still holding her tightly to him.

Morgan looked up into his eyes, her heart pounding in her chest. “I'm all right.” She said, smiling up at him wondering how something as simple as being held in his arms could be so wonderful.

“Good.” Devon said, but still didn't release her, instead he lowered his head and kissed her gently on the lips, then pulled away and looked down at her. When all she did was lick her lips, he took the invitation and kissed her again, this time parting her lips with his tongue and exploring her mouth.

When they arrived at her grandmother's house, hand in hand, Devon stopped at the gate. “I think this is as far as I'd better come.” He said, turning to face Morgan.

“You don't want to come in?” Morgan asked, disappointed.

Devon looked over his shoulder at the house, then was silent for a long time, finally he said, “I shouldn't have kissed you this afternoon, but I couldn't help myself. I know this must only be adding to your confusion, and I don't blame you for that, especially considering who I am. If I was in your position I wouldn't be sure I could be trusted either.”

Mandy immediately felt bad that she had her doubts about Devon, but after a quick mental check, she found that they were still there. “I'm sorry Devon.” She said, not wanting to lie to him. “I can't help it, so much has happened, so much has changed, and just when I thought I had a handle on it all, you show up and confuse me again. I don't understand what I'm feeling half the time and the other half those feelings seem too strong to be real.”

Devon looked down at her, “Just know this.” He said, cupping her face with his hands, “I'm nothing like my father, he's reckless and dangerous, a man who cares nothing about anyone but himself. Someday he'll pay for all the pain he's caused in the world, but until then I'll do what ever I have to do to protect not only you but the island and the people who live here. For the first time in my life, I feel like I've found the place where I belong.”

Morgan couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips, and opened her mouth to reply, but Devon's mouth coming down on hers stopped her words. When he'd finished kissing her, he said, “I'll see you in the morning.” Then turned and walked away, leaving Morgan trembling at the gate, her body humming with pleasure and filled with a warmth that only Devon seemed to be able to make her feel.