‘Maybe. Or maybe Gwydion started off just like me.’ Merry giggled. ‘Maybe that’s my future: “Don’t worry about my careers assessment, Miss Riley. I’m going to take a degree course in black magic and get a job as a murderous psychopath!”’ She laughed again; she didn’t seem to be able to stop. ‘Maybe I can open a posh shop selling poisonous herbs, and – and manacles, and cursed swords—’
‘Merry! Stop this!’
Jack was shaking her, holding her by her shoulders, and Merry realised her face was wet with tears.
‘But what if I can’t stop it, Jack? What if—’
And then she stopped, because Jack’s arms were around her, and his mouth was pressed against hers.
The shock of his touch blew all other thoughts out of her mind. The way he had touched her in her dreams – she realised now what a pale imitation of reality her imagination had come up with. She responded to him automatically, lips returning the force of his kiss, hands twisting into his long hair, body curving backwards until they fell together on to the blanket. Until her fingers, drifting down on to his shoulder, found the golden wolf’s-head brooch. She remembered, and pulled away. ‘Jack, wait—’
He stared down at her, breathing hard, his brown eyes almost black in the darkness. ‘I’m sorry. I should not have—’ He sat up. ‘I ask your forgiveness, Merry. I wished only to help you, as you have helped me, but then—’
Merry sat up too, and touched his cheek lightly with her fingertips.
‘It’s OK, Jack. I’m not angry.’
‘You are too good. But I cannot … given what I am, and that …’ he trailed off, his face flushed.
He was shy. And he was trying to protect her. Merry watched him for a moment, her heart thudding in her chest. They hardly knew each other, and Jack wasn’t exactly someone she could take home to meet her mum. Oh, and she was pretty sure she was supposed to be figuring out how to kill him, and he had already tried to kill her.
But since they might both be dead soon, did any of that really matter?
She put her arms round his neck and drew him back down on to the blanket. As he returned her embrace, the rain started falling once more. Merry waved her hand, and within the space that they were lying, the rain stopped.
Jack kissed her again, and time seemed to stop too.
‘Are you sure you’re not taking something?’ Ruby asked the next day while they were standing in front of their lockers. ’Cos if not, you’re doing a really good impression of someone who’s high.’
‘No, honestly, I’m just—’
But Ruby was already walking away, shaking her head.
‘—happy. That’s all.’ Merry sighed. But right now, even the Ruby problem didn’t seem insurmountable. At least Ruby hadn’t told Mum where Merry really was last night. She grinned to herself and went to her next class.
Maybe, Merry reflected later, she should have thought about what Ruby said, and toned it down a bit.
After school, the evening turned out to be unusually pleasant. Merry didn’t have to go to the lake and Gran had a coven meeting, so there was no training. That meant Merry could fit in a drop-in session at the fencing club. Thinking positively, at least the increased ability to defend herself would be handy, given the still-sporadic success of her spell casting. Best of all, Mum appeared to have swallowed the line Leo had spun her about a mistake: Merry was never meant to have been at Ruby’s yesterday – he himself had dropped her off at another friend’s house – Mum had just got confused. The other friend he named was the daughter of the local vicar; a piece of genius, since Mum had fallen out with the family years ago, and would never pick up the phone to check Leo’s story. For once, dinner was quite lively: Mum made Merry laugh by describing a couple of recent near disasters at work, and only Leo seemed a bit subdued.
Later, Merry was lying on her bed, half-heartedly reading one of her English set books, when Leo started texting her.
What happened last night?
What? Why you texting me?
In case mum’s listening.
What happened after I left?
Merry hesitated. There was absolutely no way she was going to tell Leo about her and Jack.
Nothing happened.
We talked. Sent him back to lake. You turned up.
Same as always.
There was a pause. Then Leo texted back:
Liar.
I know something happened.
When I got in from work, you were humming.
Why are you happy?
Merry frowned.
Why shouldn’t I be happy?
She hit send, then realised what she’d done.
Not happy. Just pretending for mum.
Like you said.
Yeah right. I’m coming in.
Leo pushed the door open a few moments later. He put his finger to his lips – Merry saw he still had his phone in his hand – and sat down next to her on the bed.
I’m not stupid. You were dancing round kitchen!
He mimed her dancing, flapping his arms around. Merry scowled.
Point is …
Leo hunched his shoulders over, blushed.
Did you and Jack …???
Merry threw her hands in the air.
Did we what???
She raised her eyebrows, but Leo just looked even more flustered. He tapped his forefinger on the edge of the phone for a few seconds, staring at her.
I don’t want you to get hurt.
Remember plan is to kill him. Probably.
You can’t fall in love.
Merry shook her head.
I know what I’m doing.
Stop killing my buzz.
Leo rolled his eyes and stood up.
Whatever. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
He left her room without looking back.
Merry sighed and turned off her phone. Leo was so ridiculously uptight sometimes. What was the point in having a cool, older brother if he was going to act like a Victorian father? Coming into her room, making her feel guilty …
But she wasn’t going to feel guilty – why shouldn’t she have some fun? Besides, the stupid manuscript might be wrong, or they might be … misinterpreting it. Maybe she could find a way around it, and they wouldn’t have to kill Jack after all. Maybe she could save him. Maybe.
* * *
There was no opportunity for fun on the next two trips to the lake. Instead of being able to talk to Jack, Merry spent most of the time trying to manipulate the water, determined to force it aside so she could simply walk to the bottom of the lake. She was getting better at it. But the magic was mentally exhausting, and she just wasn’t improving quickly enough, given the manuscript’s constant