When the preparations were complete, Peter lit some sage then began mixing the ingredients into the large spell bowl. I watched with rapt attention as his deft fingers plucked some rosemary from the stalk and sprinkled it in, a glow of energy surrounding him as his magic hummed to life.
The three of us joined hands. Peter’s were warm and smooth, whereas Nic’s were cool and slightly callused from playing the guitar. The contents of the spell bowl sparkled to life as the magic of the spell was activated. I’d memorised the lines that needed to be said, my throat somewhat dry from nerves as I forced myself to speak with confidence.
“Ghosts of the past, like echoes in the night, come forth now and give us your sight. Show us what transpired, what we were not there to see. Make clear the shadows so that the truth can live and breathe.” I closed my eyes and focused on the past that I wanted the spell to show us. Taking deep breaths in and out, I etched a picture in my mind, guiding the spell to Mr Williams and the short segment of time in which he was murdered.
Peter’s grip on my hand tightened. For some reason, I felt more connected to him than to Nic. Perhaps it was my secret feelings for him, or perhaps it was the fact that he wanted to see what happened just as much as I did.
The magic thickened until every cell in my body was alive with it. A bright, startling light filled my vision, and I mentally prepared myself to be plunged into the past, but that didn’t happen. Oh, no, something is wrong. I’d messed up the spell. I knew it in my bones. Every ounce of strength left my body as I started to lose consciousness. And then, just like that, the bright light faded, and darkness set in.
6.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been out for when I came to. My fingers twitched against the thick, soft carpet. Something didn’t feel right. I didn’t feel like myself, and I couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. My eyelids weighed a tonne as I struggled to open them.
What the hell happened?
I startled. There was a voice. A voice in my head! A voice that wasn’t my own.
When I finally managed to open my eyes, the room was dark. The spell must’ve blown out all the candles. I scrambled about as my eyes adjusted.
Something went wrong. I screwed up the spell.
My inner monologue was pure panic.
Yes, something definitely went wrong, the voice in my head replied grumpily.
Wait, that sounded an awful lot like … Peter? Is that you?
Yes, it’s me.
How on earth can I hear you right now?
I have no idea. Just … give me a second. I’m trying to find the light switch.
I felt movement to my right, and a few moments later, the overhead bulb came on, illuminating the room. The spell bowl was completely empty except for a few dried-up bits of leftover herbs. Every single candle in the room had been burned down to nothing.
On the other side of me lay Nic. He hadn’t woken up yet. I grabbed his shoulders to shake him awake, and he blearily opened his eyes, looking completely out of it.
He doesn’t look too good, Peter’s voice spoke in my head again, and it really freaked me out that he could do that now. Maybe I was hallucinating.
State the obvious, why don’t you.
Hey, I’m not the one who fucked up the spell. Peter’s irritable voice was clear as crystal. Nope, I definitely wasn’t hallucinating.
I didn’t do it intentionally! And besides, the whole reason I asked for your help was so that something like this wouldn’t happen.
Well, it did, and now we have to deal with the fact that we’re seemingly able to communicate telepathically.
What he said made me panic. Could he only speak in my head, or could he hear my thoughts, too? I sincerely hoped he couldn’t because that would be a sure-fire way of him figuring out my secret crush. But no, I couldn’t hear his thoughts, so surely, he couldn’t hear mine either.
“What happened?” Nic asked groggily, and I realised that Peter and I had been glaring at one another as we conducted an entirely silent conversation.
I cleared my throat. “Um, the spell didn’t exactly go according to plan.”
“It didn’t go to plan at all,” Peter complained, and I shot him a tense look.
Do you want to tell him that we’ve got each other’s voices in our heads? Because, personally, I’d rather fix this without anyone else knowing about it.
Peter didn’t respond right away as I fussed over my friend. Nic’s face was pale, and he had grey bags under his eyes. The miscast spell really took a lot out of him, and I felt terrible about it.