Boundless Magic: Redferne Witches, #2

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

​Chapter 1

Hazel pulled her coat closer around her. It was a chilly Dunedin evening and the autumn wind teased at her hair. She watched the traffic navigating the Octagon, listening to people’s thoughts as they left work and rushed home. A man unlocking his car was stressed that he had to go straight home and clean the guttering, and the woman walking towards her radiated the guilty feeling of staying too many hours at the office.

On that note, she shrugged uncomfortably, remembering that her mum had rang earlier, and checked her phone. Sure enough, a notification of a voicemail was waiting.

Who leaves voicemail messages these days? she thought, ringing through to her inbox. She leaned against the cool stone of the Town Hall to escape the wind.

Hi Hazel, it’s only me, your mother. I was just calling to ask you if everything was ok. Your aunt—

The hairs on the back of her hand lifted, and she thought it was her sixth sense picking something up. But when she looked down, it was only a little brown house spider. She shook her hand, taking care not to squash it, and it dropped off.

A mint green Zephyr rumbled up to the kerb and Hazel stood up, slipping her phone into her pocket. Joel reached across to get the latch and the door bounced on its hinges as it swung open in the wind.

He grinned at her, and Hazel could feel a matching smile spreading across her face.

Hi, she said, dropping into the leather seat. Thanks for picking me up again.

Joel had offered to drop her off at work and pick her up most days this week. Hazel could easily have biked but he insisted. The days were getting colder but not yet the frosty chill of Southern winters. As usual, no matter the weather, he was wearing a t-shirt. Hazel was grateful that he was, noticing the fine muscle lines beneath his shirt sleeves.

It’s all good, he said, rolling the steering wheel around. How was your day at work?

She breathed out. It was good, she said. Christo, her boss, had been leaving her alone for the most part, and Sia had given her the lead on promotion for a big city event. Veni, vidi, and I came up with some blooming good ad copy for the flower festival.

Nice, he said. I want to take you home a different way today. If that’s alright? He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded and felt a warm glow right around her ribcage. It was cute when he wanted to show her things.

At first, she couldn’t see anything but the green and orange of changing leaves, but as they moved forward, she saw a half-timbered house with gable windows through an archway of trees. It was covered in wisteria and foxgloves nodded from the garden in purples and pinks.

Beautiful, she breathed, wondering if a witch lived there. It was the sort of place Hazel would love to own one day.

I saw it last week when I was out here fixing someone’s fence and thought of you. You said you liked foxgloves? He watched her face.

She nodded. Most people hate them because they are poisonous. But I think no plant is good or bad. It depends on how you use it. That’s what Mum always used to say.

It was funny how bits of her childhood and magic lore floated back to her, now that she was using magic again; a memory of her mother rose up, blonde hair tied up and face damp with steam. She could remember the clean smell of daphne, and snippets of songs about plant magic.

Hazel had been practising simple spells in her weekends, but had failed so far to do anything more complex. Telepathy and teleportation came easy to her. A luck charm or healing potion, not so much.

Digitalis, she remembered, using the Latin name for foxgloves. It can be used in tiny amounts to increase the contractions of the heart. And also... in love potions.

You’re joking! Joel said, laughing. Then he turned the car back up the hill toward home, glancing across at her. You’re not joking?

No. It’s actually true, she said, and chewed her fingernail, wondering if he would ask whether she, Hazel, had used one on him. But Joel was quiet for a moment.

That’s all I wanted to show you, he said, finally. Oh, but guess what turned up on my doorstep?

I’m not sure, she said, fiddling with the fan on her side, so warm air blew onto her face.

A rental agreement and a direct debit form. I reckon my cousin must have dropped it off. He shrugged. It was going to happen sometime.

Ouch. She grimaced. You don’t seem too worried about paying rent.

I mean, leaving was what I was most annoyed about, he said. And I can stay living there. So it’s fine, I suppose.

Hazel frowned.

I see Kirsten was nominated for an environmental award recently, Joel added, grinning like he knew it would get her fired up.

Ugh, she said. None of this is fine. Why did all those people help Kirsten out? There was your cousin, Scott, and then Mandy at the bank. And my boss, Christo, is involved somehow too. They can’t all be worried about some lizards. Something’s rotten and I don’t like it.

He shook his head. Do you think you can let it go for now? You need to relax, Joel said, rubbing her shoulder with one hand. Hazel leaned into it, like Bonnie did when getting an ear rub. She felt some of the stress melt away as his fingers kneaded into the muscle alongside her spine.

As nice as it was, Hazel thought ‘letting it go’ was the last thing she needed to do. Mandy was Kirsten’s sister-in-law, so she would be able to tell her something useful. But Mandy knew Hazel was a witch and she might be able to guard her thoughts. If only she could get close enough to listen in somehow.

And she still had the whole issue of the magical creatures living under their properties, that possibly needed protection.

Joel squeezed her shoulder with one hand. Are you listening? You might be a... He hesitated, still unsure of the word in his mouth.

Witch, Hazel whispered, throwing the bait out between them, waiting to see if he would pounce on it or treat her gently.

A badass witch, he said. But you’re still a person. And you need to take care of yourself. Oh damn, he added, softly, peering at the dashboard.

What?

It’s just that we’re almost out of juice. He said it lightly, but she looked over at the needle on the dashboard, which was right on the line. I can get us home, don’t worry. If we can make it up this hill, then we can coast down the rest of the way.

He stepped on the accelerator and the car kept its speed up on the hill. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the spider abseiling down on its silk, hovering just over the back of his neck, its legs wiggling ever so close to the sensitive hairs. So it had stayed attached to her before.

Not now. Joel hated spiders. He didn’t need that distraction.

Hazel saw it all play out: the spider landing, his hand reaching behind to wipe away a hair, finding it was a spider and flinging it off to land in his lap. The swearing. The pulling over. The stress. Her pulse raced.

She sent out a little magic and gently grabbed the string, floating the spider down to the ground behind the front seat. He would never know.

Nearly there, he said. He turned to grin at her, as the car groaned its way over the crest of the hill.

Hazel let out a breath. We made it, she said, thinking how dramatic that sounded. But things hadn’t been easy.

For the past two weeks, they had been trying to organise a date, talking carefully, like Hazel’s mother handling foxgloves.

When Joel saw the spirit of her grannie, he had walked out the door, literally without looking back. Hazel was surprised he didn’t run.

I think I might need to stay away from your place for a while, he had said, after sulking for almost a week. Until I can get my head around it.

If that’s what you need, she’d replied. We can hang out here. She patted the unpainted back side of the door of Joel’s cabin, with hooks for their