Moondance

“Henry… you here?”

Lucinda stood at the end of the pier. The moon, etched into the still waters, glared back at her.

Ripples. Sloshing. The moon’s reflection danced on the water.

Lucinda sat at the edge, dangling her feet.

Henry swam closer. Up popped his head. "Can't a fish get sleep around here?"

"I'm bored." Lucinda leaned closer. "It's Halloween and I've no one to dance with."

"Can't help you there. Good night, Lucinda."

"Don’t go—talk to me."

"Talk?" Henry swam in an angry circle, stopped, and looked at Lucinda, his spotted fin waved erratically. "Shall we talk about the kid who almost made fish fry out of me?"

"You should be grateful I used my magic to free you—It was kinda funny when he magically stumbled into the water." Lucinda chuckled.

"Grateful? If not for your failed magic, I wouldn't have been on the end of that pole. I wouldn't be floundering around this lake worrying about where my next worm’s coming from. Don’t come back until you fix this.”

Lucinda pouted. “Sorry.” She turned around. The lights from the party tent, just a blip in the darkness. Lucinda longed to be there, dancing with Henry. She looked back—Henry was gone.

Lucinda avoided walking near the tent. Where would I say he is? ‘It's like this: I'm a teenage witch. Henry and I were fishing at the lake. I cast a spell to bait the fish to our lures. Instead, I turned my boyfriend into a Rainbow Trout and I don't know how to bring him back!’

Lucinda ran home. She opened her front door, slamming it behind her. She threw herself on the coach and cried.

Lucinda’s sister Greta rushed into the room. “You’re home early. What’s wrong?”

Lucinda told her tale.

Greta scowled. “We'll go to the counsel."

“NO. They'll be merciless—What about Cynthia?"

"Cynthia? She hates us. She won’t help."

"She’d love to gloat at my stupidity." Lucinda glared at Greta. "I'd rather endure the mockery of a sorcerer than the punishment of the Witches' Council."

Greta stared into Lucinda's pleading eyes. "We'll go in the morning.”

Lucinda smiled.

***

The sisters walked to Cynthia's house. They proceeded up the long cobblestone driveway which led to Cynthia's front door. Labyrinth door knockers greeted them. Lucinda peeked at Greta. "You take the left and I'll take the right." In unison, they knocked.

Cynthia opened the door, grunting at the sight of her cousins. Inviting them in, she led them into the parlor. Cynthia sat in a Victorian chair; the sisters on a loveseat.

“Speak,” Cynthia said.

Greta glanced at Lucinda. Lucinda spoke.

Cynthia laughed. She reached for a tissue on the table and wiped her tears. "Two witches are seeking my help? I’m the wicked sorcerer—remember?"

"Say what you want, we're still family,” Greta said.

Cynthia stood. "Follow me." A hallway led them to the basement stairs, down two flights, into the sorcerer' lair.

"Nothing’s changed," Lucinda mumbled.

Cynthia studied her bookshelf. She removed a book, wiped the dusty top, and placed it on the table. "Tell me every detail." She peered at Lucinda. "I'm a sorcerer, not a miracle worker.”

Lucinda rehashed day,

including the spell.

Cynthia scanned through the book's pages. She stopped and turned to a calendar tacked to the wall. She lifted one page back to October, tapping the date Lucinda cast her spell. “Hunter's Moon.” Cynthia walked to her workbench, working in silence for an hour.

“Done.” Cynthia produced a vial containing a blue liquid. She walked over to Lucinda, extending the vial. Lucinda reached for it. Cynthia snatched it back. "Do you love him?"

"With all my heart."

Cynthia extended it again, holding it tight. "Does he love you?"

"Yes."

"Good." Cynthia let go. "You cast your spell during a full moon. You must execute on the same; November 16th, the Beavers Moon. We’ll all meet by the lake at seven p.m. to ensure all goes well. Three days before, place a worm in the vile. Feed it to Henry."

Lucinda clutched the tube to her heart. "I’m forever in your debt.”

Cynthia snickered. “Soon enough.” Swinging around on her heels, she walked to the stairs.

Greta rolled her eyes.

They shadowed Cynthia to the top, towards the front door. Cynthia opened it and stepped aside. The sisters exited and Cynthia closed the door behind them. She didn’t utter a word.

"She's up to something." Greta said.

Lucinda shrugged. "Probably."

###

Lucinda watched the worm swell for three days. Lifting the vial from her dresser, she danced the room. "Tonight it will be Henry."

"Talking to the worm again?" Greta called out.

"Sorry." Lucinda put the vial down and got dressed.

###

Cynthia stood in the field, facing the lake. The sisters approached.

“It’s time,” Cynthia said.

Lucinda pulled a blanket out of her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She took out the potion, throwing the backpack on the grass. Lucinda popped the cork, freeing the wiggling worm into her hand. She handed the vial to Cynthia.

Lucinda walked to the end of the pier.

“Henry?”

Ripples. Sloshes. Her heart fluttered along.

Henry appeared. “Are you here to break the spell?”

“Yes!” Lucinda held the worm between her fingers. “See?” She lay on her stomach, offering Henry the shimmying worm. “Here.”

Henry jumped, snatched the worm, and plunged under the water. Bubbles popped on the surface. Henry’s head emerged. Swimming to Lucinda, he grabbed her outstretched hand and climbed out. Lucinda stood, took the blanket off her shoulder and wrapped it around Henry, kissing his wet face. “I missed you.”

Henry exhaled. “Missed you too.”

They walked back hand in hand. Lucinda stopped. “Henry, can I have this moon dance with you?”

Henry put his arms around Lucinda’s back, pulling her close.

He peered over her shoulder. “Who’s that with Greta?”

Lucinda turned. Cynthia stepped out of the darkness into the moonlight.

Henry let Lucinda go and walked over to Cynthia. Staring into her eyes, he put his arms around her waist.

Lucinda dropped to her knees. “My love?”