Think of your wand as a lightning rod. The power is within you. The wand merely channels and conducts it.
The Entente’s teachings flooded back to me. Galatea’s words came to me now. I closed my eyes and held my wand up, trying to illuminate it. I wished for light just as I had a million times when I was a kid. It was beginner magic, like tying your shoes.
“Remember, there is magic everywhere. You just have to master it. Use your words and your wand and bring it into submission,” Galatea offered, trying to be helpful.
I waved the wand, but nothing happened.
I waved the wand again and again. Concentrating harder, closing my eyes again. Trying to summon every bit of will.
Finally I stabbed the air in frustration, using the wand like a foil. What if my magic had not returned?
“Stop trying, child,” Galatea said softly.
The other sisters slipped back into the Reverie. I wondered if they’d left because they were embarrassed for me. Or if they just felt there was no reason to stay since I clearly didn’t have magic. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“It’s possible. Anything’s possible. You may just have more healing to do. I thought I felt the lightning unbind the spell, but there was so much resistance. It’s not my spell to break. It’s Hecate’s.”
“So only she can break it?”
“I thought her death would have loosened its hold. But it’s possible that her spell is stronger than death. There is a theory that love is another kind of magic. I have never believed it or seen it. But perhaps Hecate’s love for you is how the spell has held on.”
And perhaps that’s how Hecate herself has held on, I thought.
As if in answer, Hecate’s ashes dispersed and rushed toward me, back into her pouch.
“Let’s go home,” Galatea said finally, taking my hand and raising her wand.