To Melody’s chagrin, Blake arrived at her apartment promptly at ten minutes to midnight, appearing tired, his normally attractive dark eyes hollow shells. He seemed to be in a trance, not really seeing or hearing anything around him.
“You’re right on time,” Melody said as she held the door open.
“I heard from Brian. They’ve moved Joe from the psychiatric ward into a regular hospital bed.”
“That’s great news. Did you go see him?”
“No.” Blake directed his gaze to the floor. “He won’t want to see me again, and I don’t blame him.”
“How do you know?” Melody touched his arm. “You have to talk to him.”
Blake shook his head, his eyes dark. “Can we just get this…this thing out of me?”
“Blake,” Melody said, changing tactics, “have you thought about what the network will say about this? You’re under contract. And Marty will shit a brick.”
“Fuck them. I’ve been a freak show since I was a kid and I’m tired of it.”
Seeing she couldn’t change Blake’s mind, Melody walked into her bedroom.
When she didn’t return, Blake realized he was meant to follow, and he walked to the bedroom door. Peering into the room, he saw that Melody had placed four pillar candles in a circle. She was lighting them as he entered the room, and she jerked her head toward the middle of it.
“Sit in the middle,” she instructed him, her voice emotionless.
Blake complied and accepted a piece of paper, which had the spell written on it, along with a length of yellow cord.
“This is one of the oldest magic spells in the world,” Melody explained. “You’ll tie a series of nine knots in the cord, each one binding your ability to see ghosts. As you tie each knot, recite the corresponding line from the spell and picture your gift being bound.”
Blake nodded. “Seems simple enough,” he commented as he looked at the cord. “Almost like going to the doctor to have a tumor cut out.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m positive.”
Without another word, Melody picked up her dagger and, her back to Blake, moved around the circle, summoning what she addressed as the Guardians of the Watchtowers of the north, south, east, and west. When she finished, she turned to Blake and nodded. “You may begin,” she said, solemnly.
Blake tied the first knot, visualizing his “gift” removed, and read from the piece of paper. “With knot of one, the spell’s begun,” he recited.
“With knot of two, the spell cometh true,” he said as he tied the second knot.
He tied the third knot. “With knot of three, so mote it be.”
“With knot of four, the power I store,” he said, tying the fourth knot.
“With knot of five, the spell’s alive.”
“With knot of six, the spell I fix.”
“With knot of seven, events I’ll leaven,” Blake read. Was it working?
He concentrated harder. No more ghosts, no more midnight whispers, but, possibly, a lasting relationship in exchange.
“With knot of eight, it will be Fate.”
Blake tied the ninth and final knot, pulling the cord very tight.
“With knot of nine, what’s done is mine!”
He looked up at Melody, expectantly, but she turned away and released the quarters, this time moving counter-clockwise around the circle. When she finished she began to snuff out the four candles surrounding Blake. “Do you feel any differently?” she asked, finally.
Blake thought for a moment. Something was different, but what was it? The constant chatter that surrounded him for years was gone. The whispers were gone. He jumped up and hugged Melody. “It worked!” he exclaimed, beaming. “Thank you!”
He looked at the knotted cord in his hand. “What do I do with this?” He looked from the cord to Melody.
“Put it in a safe place. If you ever want to reverse the spell, just unknot the cord in reverse.”
Blake grimaced and thrust the cord at Melody. “I don’t ever want to reverse that spell,” he said, raising his voice. “Burn it.”
“If you’re sure.” Melody took the cord.
“I’m sure.”
“Blake,” Melody softly touched his arm, “are you afraid of death?”
The question took Blake by surprise and he searched her face for any clue as to what she was getting at. “No,” he said after a moment. “Why?”
She sat down on the edge of her bed and, instead of answering the question, posed another. “Why not?”
“Death is just another step in life. It’s inevitable.”
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be frightened by it. So why aren’t you afraid?”
Blake sighed and sat down on the bed next to her. “I guess it’s because I know that things don’t end when we leave this.” He waved a hand around the room. “And I don’t believe in heaven and hell, not literally anyway.”
“Because of your powers. Not many human beings are as lucky as you are to know all of that.”
Here it is, Blake thought. Instead of arguing, however, he kissed Melody on the cheek and took her hand. “I don’t know if what I did tonight was right or wrong, but I have to try.”
*
As soon as Blake had gone, Melody pulled a wooden box from her cupboard and carefully coiled the yellow cord inside. Blake might change his mind—at least she hoped he would—and she would protect the cord from harm for when that day came. She closed the lid and placed the box back in the cupboard, then strode into the living room. She pulled her address book from a drawer and flipped through the pages, searching for a number, a number Blake had given her in case of emergencies when he was still dating Brian. Fortunately, Brian answered on the second ring, even though it was well past midnight.
“Brian,” she said, “we need to talk.” Melody almost felt as if she was betraying Blake’s confidence to someone she barely knew, but she didn’t know what else to do. She was telling Brian how lonely Blake had been since their breakup when Brian interrupted.
“Melody,” he said, impatience creeping into his voice. “I feel for Blake, I do, but what do you want me to do? I’m sorry the way things ended between me and Blake, but I can’t change the past.”
“I’m not talking about the past. I’m talking about the future.”
“What do you mean?”
“Blake asked me to do a spell to strip him of the ability to see ghosts. We just did it tonight.”
“What? Can you do that?”
“I can only bind the powers.” Melody was happy to realize she had finally gotten through to Brian. “I don’t know if a spell exists to get rid of that sort of thing.”
“He did this for his boyfriend?”
“He did it for himself. He’s convinced that he and Joe are finished because of what happened. No, he did this so he can have a chance at a normal relationship.”
“Can you undo the spell?”
“It’s a simple knot spell. It can be undone, but only by Blake.”
“What can we do?”
“I don’t know. He’s set on this and wouldn’t even let me try to talk him out of it.”
“Let me see what I can do. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Brian. This whole thing just feels wrong, like Blake did it for all of the wrong reasons.”
For once, Brian Cox seemed to agree with a witch.