The thing about the spell was this: it was far less about the who, and far more about the where.
This meant that it was good for delivering the scraps of torn up lined paper with her note scrawled on them to places where they would definitely be found, but not so good for easing Lucy’s nerves as she stood, alone, in the darkened community centre. The building purred, low and anxious, sending goose pimples racing up Lucy’s bare arms. Absently, she pulled the olive green fleece from around her waist and slipped it on. She’d taken it off earlier, it had been a warm day even though it was October, the heat of the Summer still clinging tightly to the passing year, and she’d worked up a bit of a sweat travelling over town, making her ‘deliveries’.
Perhaps, she thought absently as she made her way to the edge of the room with a final tray of cupcakes in hand, it would have been a little less gruelling if she’d planned things out before hand, instead of divining as she went. Lucy knew her practice was messy and disorganised, mostly because Jeanine had told her so many times, often after catching Lucy doing things like consulting with the squirrels (they were unusually wise) or using an origami fortune teller for divination. For Lucy though, messy and disorganised worked, she got results that were undeniable, even if she didn’t know what every single herb did and what all the crystals were for.
Of course, if you’re planning a cross country journey across the whole town, sometimes a little precision comes in handy.
She set the cupcakes down on a rickety table next to another tray of cupcakes, a plate of sausage rolls, a jug orange squash, and a large flask of tea. Hopefully nobody had any unusual dietary requirements, she had, after all, made a promise, and it wasn’t really fair if it wasn’t a promise to everyone. It would ruin the energy of the room, and right now, it was about as good as she was going to get it.
Her converse pumps squeeked on the shiny wooden floor as she made her way across the room once more, this time heading towards a large, plastic blue box positioned by the door, the lid discarded to the side earlier. She glanced at her phone, the LED light making her eyes sting in the darkness.
Half ten.
People would be arriving soon, or at least, they should be. Lucy picked up the lid and placed it on the box, hiding the contents from view. It wasn't time for that, not yet. Later, when people's minds were more open and ready to hear what she had to say. Now though, was a time for a different kind of preparation.
She moved, heading towards the centre of the gym. Somewhat awkwardly, she sat, legs crossed. From her pocket, she withdrew a small tealight, a sprig of lavender, and a folded photograh, all of which she placed in front of her. She lit the tealight, the spark of the lighter incandescent in the darkness and the soft hiss of burning echoing in the silence.
A few words, mouthed almost silently to herself.
And then, she remembered.
“Y’know, I might not… stay here, right?” Olivia’s eyes, soft and blue in the dim light of Lucy’s bedroom, were crinkled at the edges. Worry, Lucy noted quietly to herself; Olivia was worried about how she’d react.
It wasn’t uncommon that they’d sit like this in the evenings, at opposite ends of Lucy’s bed, Olivia with her legs stretched out and a textbook resting on her lap, Lucy with her knees pulled up to her chest, toes digging into the handmade-quilt, most often not being anywhere near as productive, but enjoying the company anyway. Most of the time they were silent, mutually agreeing that talking was something for other places and other times, and not nearly as important as everyone made it out to be. They would arrive, they would sit, and then Olivia would leave, and that was that.
Lucy, however, was little confused by her statement "Well of course not, you always leave when it gets dark," she said, glancing out of the window. In the sky, the sun was a burnt Orange, hovering mere millimetres above the distant ocean, just visible through the gaps between the densely packed houses.
Olivia sighed. It was a heavy sound, one that set Lucy on edge as it twisted up with the already indescribably strange energy that seemed to constantly surround her. She closed the book, and set it down next to her, and When she spoke, the sigh was still there, "I don't... that's not how I meant it and you know it."
"How did you mean It?" Lucy asked honestly.
Olivia's teeth caught her slightly chapped bottom lip, tugged at it, then released it. She repeated this motion several times before she spoke, "I mean..." She stopped herself, and Lucy felt her energy twist and snarl, "Rawyn," she said, quick, "I might not stay in Rawyn, at least not forever."
"Oh..." Lucy said, still not entirely sure what she was talking about, because Rawyn wasn't a place you could just leave. She thought for a few seconds, trying to come up with a more reasonable answer, "I..." she began, "I probably will." she finished.
Olivia smiled sadly, "That's okay," she said.
She moved, shuffling across the bed until she was next to Lucy, their shoulders touching. Tenderly, she unfurled Lucy's hand from where it was wrapped around her knees. Lucy felt herself relax at the contact. An involuntary response to the impossibly gentle fingers intertwining with her own.
"It's okay," she repeated, resting her head on Lucy's shoulder, "We're both here now."
And they were.
Lucy opened her eyes at the soft growl of the hall around her, barely perceptible. Somebody was about to arrive, it seemed. A few more murmured words, and she snuffed out the low-burning candle, retrieved the objects, and stood.
In her heart, she already felt more certain.
She was ready, and she hoped to the gods the others were too.
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