We’ve gathered here on this sacred night to honor one of the finest humans the mortal world has ever produced.”
The garden had been transformed. Small lanterns glowed softly from every tree, and Nora had made sure all of the fall flowers, from the asters to the zinnias, were blooming, bringing color to every corner of the yard and filling the air with a rich, tranquil scent.
“Adam was more than the husband of our beloved niece. He was a treasured member of our family.”
I listened silently, twisting my hands together, as Nora continued telling the story of my husband’s life. She spoke of his passion for teaching, his wonder for the world, and his love for us. Really, it wasn’t all that different from his human funeral.
The next part, however, would be quite different. And that was the part that had me nervous.
All witch funerals had an enchanted component, a magical tribute given to the one who passed, and I wanted mine to be perfect just in case Adam could see it from wherever he was. I wanted it to be as beautiful as the love he had given me, and I was terrified I would let the both of us down.
When the time came, Nora moved to the side, and I stood in front of my family with my hands still clutched together. A thousand thoughts raced through my head. How was I going to do this? Where would I find the strength? Why did I want to do this? I didn’t get married to say goodbye. But I pushed them all away to focus on what it was I really wanted to say.
“There are no words that can ever truly express what Adam brought to the world. What he brought to my life.” My voice trembled. “My husband was so many things. Intelligent. Funny. Interesting. But more than anything, he was a good, kind man. Good and kind are simple words, but when you are lucky enough to meet someone rich in both those qualities, the effect is magnificent. Adam was magnificent.” Tears welled in my eyes.
“You are doing wonderfully, darling,” Izzy called to me.
“No, words alone are not enough to honor the man I had the greatest privilege of calling my husband.” I felt a mystical thrum of energy run through the garden in anticipation of my next words. The Warren family had been using them for hundreds of years. “So as is our tradition, I offer my tribute.”
I squeezed my fingers into my palms. I could suddenly hear Constance’s words to me. Her message from Adam.
He said, tell Brynn that I love her always, and that for my tribute, I want her to show me the stars.
I stilled my thoughts and focused my energy out into the night sky, to the constellations far above me.
Now I just had to bring them down.
I closed my eyes. I didn’t need to see the illusion I was creating to know what was happening. Tiny luminous points that were millions of light-years away would suddenly appear to be floating toward us on earth. I could feel the magic running steadily through me, in a way I hadn’t in a long time. It felt natural again. As easy as breathing.
I called the specks of light closer to earth.
My uncle sighed. “It’s beautiful, Brynn.”
“Yes,” Nora said. “Adam would be proud.”
I knew he would.
Suddenly I could see so clearly the look on his face that night on Carmichael’s Bridge. That was the look he would have given me if he were here. The look that was just for me. The one that told me I was pure magic in his eyes.
I would never see it again. Not in this lifetime.
The enormity of the loss gripped me in a way I hadn’t allowed it to in a long time, and I could feel the quickening of power that had been building inside me falter. The pain was pushing the magic away, crowding it out.
That was the thing about grief I had come to know so well. It was always too much. The loss always too big. The pain always takes up too much space. It takes all the room you have until there is nothing left, and then it takes even more.
I couldn’t hold on to the spell. It had gone from something I could feel and touch inside of me to nothing more than mist running through my fingers.
Suddenly someone gripped my hand.
I opened my eyes. Izzy was at my side.
“I can’t hold on,” I whispered to her.
“You don’t have to, darling,” she said, bringing our clasped hands to her chest. “Let it go. You don’t have to keep it inside you any longer.”
Then someone was holding my other hand. I looked over and met Nora’s hazel eyes, sparkling in the light from the lanterns. She held me in her gaze as a single tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away, threw back her shoulders, and gave me a brilliant smile. “You can do this, Brynn. You are so strong. A Warren through and through.”
I couldn’t say if I believed her or not, but the strength of her conviction was enough to get me to try.
I closed my eyes again and took a long, slow breath, breathing through the tightness in my chest. The spell swirled through me once again. Though faint at first, it quickly built on itself, growing in power until it reached a point that I knew it had its own life. The sensation wasn’t at all like it had been with the wildfire spell, when my magic had been angry, thrashing at me for release. This was balance and joy, harmony and triumph. It was also love. So much love. All the love I had for my husband but hadn’t allowed myself to feel since he passed.
When it was time, I released the magic and let it flow out from me into the world.
A hush fell over the garden, and I opened my eyes.
The illusion of countless stars hovered all around us, infusing the garden with unearthly light.
“It’s wonderful,” Izzy said, eyes glittering. “Well done, Brynn.”
“A magnificent tribute,” Gideon added.
“I wish I had been able to do it sooner.” The words came out in a rush, surprising me. I hadn’t meant to say them, but I didn’t regret them either. I could tell my family was about to object, so I added, “That way I could have been sure Adam’s spirit would have seen it. Even if I couldn’t have seen him.”
Just then the stars began to spin, slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed.
“What’s happening?” Izzy asked. “Are you doing that, darling?”
I frowned in confusion. “No, I am not doing anything.”
We watched as the stars spun faster and faster until the most miraculous thing happened. One after another, each star sparked, then exploded into new life. Suddenly we were surrounded by gleaming, butterflies, dragonflies, and moths. There were others too, but I didn’t know their names. In fact, there was only one person, I knew, who would have been able to name them all.
“I have never seen anything like this,” Nora said, marveling at the sight of the tiny creatures swirling around us, leaving trails of golden dust in their wake.
Gideon laughed. “I’ve never even heard of anything like this.”
I held out my hand and a tiny firefly landed on my finger.
Adam.
The spectacular show only lasted a moment or two longer before the cloud of winged creatures swirled upward to the sky. The firefly hovered low until it was the last one in sight and then it swirled away too.
I stared into the night sky as my family’s arms encircled me.
It was hard to say how long we stayed that way, looking at the stars.
And it would be even harder to speculate how long we would have stayed that way if a bush hadn’t rustled behind us.
“What was that?” I whispered to my family still huddled around me.
The four of us turned together to see an extremely wide-eyed Mr. Henderson peering through the hedge, his face in between the rods of the iron fence.
Oh dear.
I pulled myself free from my aunts and uncle and took a step toward him with my hands up in the air. “Mr. Henderson, we can explain everything.”
“I don’t want your explanations. I know what I saw,” he said, quickly straightening his glasses on his nose. “I’d heard rumors, but I never believed—”
“Please, don’t be afraid.” I took another step toward him. “I know you must have a million questions.”
“No. No, I don’t.” He held up a finger to hold me back. “There’s just one thing I want to know. And I want the truth.”
The four of us waited in silence.
“Are you good witches? Or bad witches?”
I let my hands drop to my sides. “Mr. Henderson, we’re not good witches or bad witches.”
I shot a look over my shoulder at Nora. She gave me a wink.
“The truth is,” I said, turning back to our neighbor, feeling my eyes glow bright green, “we Warrens are the very best witches.”