Original: "The Cabot Girls of Coventry Island," original, incest warning!
Well, I wasn't sure about this. But enough people said they wanted to read it that I went ahead and wrote it. My Spank or Treat story features Arwyn "Winnie" Cabot, and it casually mentions her two sisters. This story features those sisters, and in the grand tradition of Practical Magic and Witches of East End, the sisters are... close. Really close. Sleeping in the same bed and sharing pajamas close. So beware of that content before/if you click.
Summary: Maeve and Cerys Cabot own a boutique on the island where their family has lived for generations. The sisters have a very close relationships and, on Samhain, Cerys has a special gift for Maeve. (5,725 words)
The Cabot Girls of Coventry Island
by Geonn Cannon
http://www.geonncannon.com
Copyright © 2014 Geonn Cannon
On my site
On AO3
Cabot women had lived on the island for generations. When the town was incorporated in 1796, a placard commemorating the event was erected outside of Town Hall. Bronwyn Cabot was one of the first names listed. Through the years the island was never without at least two generations of Cabots. Currently abiding in the stately manor that stood on a seaward cliff were Mairwen Cabot and her partner, Liza. Her daughter Ashlyn lived in a house in town, and her daughters had all spread off after leaving high school.
Arwyn, who went by Winnie, was the oldest. She inherited the family bakery and the antique oven that went with it. She wove her spells through the baked goods she sold.
Maeve and Cerys were the twins, and they ran the town boutique. They were sororal twins and frequently mistaken for friends rather than sisters. They were with each other constantly and lived together in one of the large houses on First Street. The house was originally owned by one of the town founders. The Cabot family was woven into the very fabric of the town, so it made sense that the two youngest members of the current generation ran a boutique where the majority of their neighbors bought their clothes.
The twins woke at the same time as their older sister even though she lived across town. They sensed her awareness and became infected with it themselves. They shared a bedroom at the top of the house, and every morning Cerys opened the circular window to let the first rays of the morning in. She and Maeve shared a set of green plaid pajamas. Cerys wore the bottoms with a plain white T-shirt, while Maeve wore the top over a pair of briefs. They would spend the early morning hours sitting cross-legged on the floor of their bedroom, spelling and praying, welcoming the day and building up the energy they would spend the rest of the day spreading to the people of the town.
Eventually they would dress and go downstairs for breakfast. They were both willowy women, long-limbed and graceful, with long slender necks and delicate features. Maeve was darker, with a thin-lipped smile and a pointed chin. Her hair was black, her eyes wide and sparkling as a bowl of chocolate. Cerys was earthier, with a slightly rounder face and shining green eyes. Her hair was red with a tendency to become blonde during the summer months when it swallowed up the sun.
Maeve wore jeans and a wide leather belt with a peasant blouse. The blouse left her shoulders bare and made it an odd choice for late October in the northeast, but she was always warm enough no matter what she wore. Cerys preferred dresses no matter what the season. Today her dress was pale yellow with small orange flowers, and Maeve pretended to pluck one of the petals as Cerys passed her to go into the kitchen. They ate together in the nook, then finally put on their shoes and took out their bicycles.
Their home was on the southern tip of the island, and the town was clustered around the bridge on the bell-shaped northern shore. They took the longer route along the eastern side of the island so they could pass the family home. Mama and Gram were still inside but they waved regardless as they passed the white picket fence that enclosed their sprawling front yard. One day Winnie would inherit the house, and perhaps Maeve and Cerys would join her there in their twilight years. Tradition stated the eldest got the house, and the youngest had more freedom to wander.
For the moment the Cabot women were more than happy to stay right where they were. Father Danny was outside the church when they rode by and he offered them a smile and a shouted hello. He was young and new to the island, and initially he’d been wary about the idea of a coven of witches living on his doorstep. But Gram explained to him that they weren’t the pop culture, medieval propaganda of witches. They didn’t dance naked in the moonlight (they danced naked in their bedrooms, but only because it felt awesome and if the song was right). They didn’t sacrifice animals (although they weren’t vegan), and they didn’t worship Satan.
“We pray, we sing, we believe in prayer and rituals. We may not sing the same hymns you do, but we’re playing in a similar key.”
The people of the island were accustomed to the Cabots, had always known about them and what they could do, and it was centuries too late for anyone to raise a fuss. If the Cabot women meant to do harm they would have done it centuries ago.
The day was calm and overcast, with sheets of October clouds piled up as if awaiting their turn to skid across the mainland. Despite the grayness, everyone they passed was friendly and chipper and some of them seeming to hasten when they saw that the Stormy Mouse Boutique was about to open. Maeve still smiled when she thought of the name; it had been the result of a brainstorming session on the floor of their bedroom, late and night and fueled by one glass of wine too many. When they woke the next morning, tucked into the same bed, Maeve had seen the name written on Cerys’ hand. She considered that enough destiny to name the store.
Maeve arrived at the Mouse first, skidding her sneaker along the pavement to stop her bike. She unlocked the door and said a blessing under her breath as she let in the first breath of morning. The day would be a good one, they would have as many customers as necessary, and those customers would be pleased with their purchases.
Cerys arrived half a minute after her, always slower due to the fact she took a less direct path. She would weave to brush her fingers through wet leaves, or she would circle to have a quick conversation with someone. But no matter how long she lingered she always arrived within forty-five seconds of Maeve, just like the day they were born. She pushed her hair out of her face and brushed past Maeve to the back of the store. She switched on the lights as she went into the back room, and Maeve flipped the sign on the door to OPEN.
“Have you given any thought to the Samhain party?” Cerys asked when she returned from the back room. She had put on an apron emblazoned with the boutique’s name and logo, and her tangerine-colored hair pulled into a loose twist. “We need to put something together soon if we’re going to send out the invitations in time.”
“I was thinking a masquerade,” Maeve said as she joined her sister behind the counter. “We could design the masks, everyone could be someone else for an evening.” She picked up the sleeve of a display blouse and draped it across the lower half of her face. She reached out and dragged her fingers down Cerys’ bare arm. “Everyone wants to get out of their own skin once in a while.”
Cerys smiled. “Sounds like a fine time.”
The bell over the front door jingled as Cynthia Vincent let herself in. Cerys smiled and went to greet her, and Maeve took up her position behind the cash register. They offered a very unique product in their shop. She and Cerys made most of the clothes themselves, and none of it was much different from what one might find at any outlet mall. Once the clothes were ready for sale, she and Cerys blessed them. Whoever wore the clothes would feel better about themselves, would feel more confident and better equipped to face the day.
“I think you would look amazing in lilac. It might be more of a summer color but I think we can risk a little splash, right? It’s still autumn, so we can get away with it.”
Maeve smiled and shook her head. Cerys was quite the saleswoman. As her sister prepared to sell Cynthia four blouses instead of the one she had come in to buy, Maeve opened a drawer and looked at the fabric folded neatly within. A night of masks, an evening of wearing someone else’s face for a change. One could easily forget consequences, could take leaps that would ordinarily frighten them, could open the door to all sorts of possibilities.
She took a handful of the cloth out of the drawer and used her knee to push it shut. “Reese? I’m going to be in the back room for a while.”
Cerys smiled. “Going to be doing some designing?”
Maeve winked at her. “Make up the signs. The Cabots are holding a masquerade.”
#
That night Maeve took her design pad into the bath with her. She loved her huge tub so much that she reserved it for special occasions and long soaks. There was a modern shower downstairs that she shared with Cerys and was used for actual bathing. The tub was specifically for pampering herself. Her hair was pinned on top of her head, and she was using the tub tray to sketch a few designs for the masks she wanted to make. She heard a clatter in the bedroom.
“Reese? Are you going to bed? Come here. I want you to see my designs.”
Cerys came into the bathroom having already stripped down to her panties and undershirt but hadn’t yet donned her pajamas. She crouched by the tub next to Maeve’s head and idly played with her sister’s hair while Maeve held up the sketch pad to show her what she’d come up with.
“I like this,” Cerys said, touching a full-face covering with a fan of feathers arcing above the eyes. “It looks sort of like a bird.”
“If we can get the material I might made a beak.”
“That could make drinking difficult.”
“We’ll put out straws.” Cerys giggled and kissed Maeve’s cheek. “Do you want to share my bath?”
“Yes, please.”
Cerys stood up and moved to the other side of the tub. She stepped over the lip and sank down, not bothering to take off her clothes. As she sank down she bent her knees and Maeve twisted her hips to the side so Cerys had room to stretch out. She felt Cerys’ toes wiggling against her bare hip and she smiled as she reclined against the curve of the tub. Cerys cupped her hands in the bubbles and blew them into Maeve’s face.
“You brat,” Maeve said with a chuckle. “See if I ever share my tub with you again.”
Cerys puffed out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. Maeve reached under the bubbles to retrieve Cerys’ foot, lifting it up out of the water to massage the arch. Cerys sighed and let her head fall back, her arms on the side of the bath as her toes curled. She moaned quietly and Maeve knew she had succeeded in reducing her sister to a quivering mass of loose muscles.
“And that’s why I can always get you to do what I want.”
“No you can’t,” Cerys murmured. “Why? What do you want me to do?” She lifted her head and opened her eyes, one eyebrow arching suggestively.
Maeve grinned and chuckled low in her throat. She kissed the ball of Cerys’ foot and let it sink again, then pushed the table out of the way so her notepad wouldn’t get wet. She slid down in the tub so the water would cover the curve of her breasts.
“I think it’s going to be a good party,” she said.
Cerys nodded. “Yeah. I can’t wait to see what your mask will be.”
Maeve smiled.
Cerys leaned forward, her breasts against her knees as she brushed the stray strands of hair away from her sister’s face. She bit her lip, and Maeve leaned her head to one side as she was examined.
“I like the way your ears stick out a little.”
“Hey!”
“No, it’s a good thing.” She stroked the shell of one, transferring the moisture from the tub onto the skin. “They poke out when you wear your hair down. It makes you look like...”
“I know what it makes me look like.”
“A cartoon mouse,” Cerys said anyway.
Maeve reached up and slapped Cerys’ hand away, and Cerys laughed as she lost her balance. She fell against Maeve’s legs, and Maeve wrapped wet arms around her sister to keep her from escaping. Their faces lined up as they both laughed, and Maeve leaned forward to kiss Cerys’ bottom lip. Cerys purred quietly, tilted her head to the side, and slipped her tongue into Maeve’s mouth. She scooted forward and Maeve straightened her legs, sinking even lower as Cerys rose above her. Cerys cupped Maeve’s face, pulling back to drag her tongue over her sister’s parted lips.
When Cerys sat up, the bath water still dripping from her curves, her clothes soaked through so that everything underneath was visible in a way that Maeve found more arousing than if she’d been naked. Cerys smiled and brushed her thumb over Maeve’s cheek.
“I love you, Miff.”
Maeve caressed the curve of Cerys’ hip. “Go to bed, Reese.”
Cerys bent down and kissed the tip of Maeve’s nose and lifted herself up. Maeve watched her go and then lay back to look up at the ceiling. She knew how many people would frown on the special relationship she had with her sister, knew there were those who would consider it wrong on every level. The fact was she never felt comfortable enough with anyone else to feel romantic toward them. She grew up in a very tight knit family, with a very cozy coven, so everyone she knew felt like family to her. Cerys was different. Cerys was her constant. She had only lived forty-five seconds without Cerys in her life, and she didn’t want to add even one more second to that.
They were sixteen the first time, after years of sharing a room and occasionally sharing a bed, Cerys took it a step further. Maeve remembered being scared stiff as they cowered together under the covers while Cerys pushed them pajamas out onto the floor. Cerys was her first kiss, and her first lover.
They wanted Winnie to be the first to know, but they never even got a chance to tell her. The next time they saw her she simply knew. Cerys was afraid she would judge them, but Winnie had just taken their hands and kissed the knuckles.
“You were made the same, but you needed two bodies to contain all the power of your soul. Why wouldn’t you love each other in every way possible?”
The true nature of their relationship was, of course, known only to the closest members of their family. The town might accept their witchcraft but incest was probably a road too far.
Maeve finally finished her bath and let the water drain. She toweled off, said her prayers, and went into the bedroom. Cerys was in her own bed under the window, awake and curled on her side with a book open on her mattress. Maeve squeezed her sister’s toes through the blanket as she passed, put on her pajamas, and crawled into her own bed.
“Read to me, Reese?” she asked as she tucked herself in.
“You won’t know the story.”
“That’s okay. I just want to hear your voice.”
Cerys smiled and put her finger on the page to track her spot. Maeve tucked her hand under the pillow and grinned as Cerys began to read from the point where she had left off reading.
#
The next morning in the shop, Maeve got to work on the masks. In the back room she measured and clipped and sewed pieces together, her tongue poking between her lips as she threaded the needle through the delicate material. Cerys came in to check on her progress when business was slow, occasionally modeling one of the masks or helping sketch something. At one point Maeve got a cramp in her hand. Seconds after the pain shot up her arm but before she had vocally reacted, Cerys slipped off her stool and took Maeve’s hand in both of hers. She knew right where the worst pain was, and she knew where to apply pressure to ease it.
“It feels better. Thank you, Reese.”
“Sure, Miff.” She bent down and kissed Maeve’s palm. Maeve cupped her cheek, and Cerys sank down onto her sister’s lap. She turned to look at the finished masks while Maeve rested her head on Cerys’ chest. “This is going to be a great party. You know what I was thinking?”
“About Winnie’s Harvest Cookies?”
“Yeah,” Cerys said, not even surprised. “She puts spells in them to open people’s eyes. It awakens them to things they might otherwise ignore.”
Maeve said, “You want to release people’s inhibitions.”
“Masks are safe,” Cerys said. “They protect us from being ashamed or scared. We’re more willing to take a risk when we’re wearing a mask.” She looked down at Maeve and touched the tip of her upturned nose with hers. “What do you think?”
“I think we could pull something together. Taking a chance, taking a leap... I think I have something for that. Do we have any rosemary?”
“Mm.” Cerys slipped off Maeve’s lap and went into the main office humming ‘parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.’ Maeve giggled and flexed her hand to make sure the cramp was completely gone before she went back to her work.
#
The day they revealed their relationship to their mother, Ashlyn had stopped what she was doing and looked out the window for a long moment. Finally she chuffed softly, shook her head, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes a whole lot of sense for you two. Not for everyone, but... you two?” She looked at her younger daughters and nodded. “Yes, you two, I understand.”
Their grandmother hadn’t even needed to think about it. She cupped Maeve’s cheek and patted Cerys’ hand. “It happens. In this family, yes. To twins, especially. You are strong separately, yes, but you’re supposed to be together.” She hooked her forefingers together and nodded forcefully. “My girls. You will make each other so strong.”
Maeve wondered if something was broken in her, if she was just built wrong. But she looked at Winnie and knew she would never cross that line with her. She loved Winnie fiercely, and she would do anything for her older sister, but there was no romantic or sexual draw to her. She loved Winnie, but she was in love with Cerys. It took her a long time to find peace with that fact, and now she felt her love of Cerys was the treasure for a hard-fought war.
Cerys made up the flyers for their Samhain celebration and went out to post them while Maeve finished the masks. She examined the variety and decided there was enough for everyone to choose whatever disguise would be right for them. Some were colorful while others were dark, and some concealed the entire face while others were Harlequin masks that only crossed over the wearer’s eyes. There were festooned with ribbons and lace, decorated with designs both glaring and subtle... She smiled as she picked up one with a vaguely feline shape and held it up in front of her face so she could see through the eyeholes.
She still hadn’t decided what she was going to be for the party. Past years she and Cerys had coordinated costumes, worn something that had special meaning for them but would be lost on any outsiders. This year she wanted to do something different. She wanted to do something solely for her sister to show her how much she cared.
Cerys entered as if summoned by Maeve’s thoughts and smiled at her kittenish face. “It suits you.”
“Mrow,” Maeve said, clawing at the air before she put the mask back with the others. “I think we have enough, don’t you?”
“Looks like.”
Maeve held her hands out across the table palm-up. Cerys stood across from her and placed the backs of her hands into her sister’s cupped palms. They closed their eyes and lowered their heads, speaking in harmony with one another to cast a spell over the masks. It was a simple blessing, one they had done every Samhain, that whoever wore their masks would find fun, happiness, and release of inhibitions in a safe manner. No one would do anything they didn’t want to but would instead be free of the shackles that came with societal expectations. Theirs would, as always, be a party without judgment or fear of recriminations.
She opened her eyes and saw Cerys was staring at her. They smiled at the same time and continued speaking as their power flowed into the masks Maeve had created.
#
On October 31, Maeve woke to find herself alone in the bedroom. She still felt Cerys near so she took a shower and dressed in an off-shoulder smock and jeans. She padded barefoot outside and looked in the garden, carried her coffee cup to the fence, and squinted toward the rising sun to see if she could spot Cerys walking to the store. Their neighbor, Mr. Bradley, waved to her as he got into his VW bug, and she forced a smile to wave back.
When she turned to go back inside, she twisted the chain of her necklace around her finger with a worried crease in her brow.
“Reese, where are you? I can feel you, but...” She stopped on the front step and looked behind her again. Nothing. No sign, no whisper, nothing indicating that Cerys heard her. “Please, baby girl. Come home to me. I need you.”
She went inside and made breakfast for them both, but Cerys’ food went untouched. Maeve stared at it, eyes wide and shimmering with tears. Her phone startled her when it rang, and she punched the answer button without looking.
“Winnie, she’s just gone...”
“I know, sweetheart. She thought you would be able to feel her, but your distress is killing her. She asked me to call and tell you she’s okay.”
Maeve stood and went to the window. She bit her thumbnail as she looked out, seeking her twin with all of her senses.
“Where’s my Reese?” she asked softly. “Please, Arwyn.”
“Sh, baby girl.” Winnie spoke gently and kept her voice at a soothing cadence. Maeve could almost feel their older sister’s fingers stroking her hair. She rested her forehead against the windowpane and closed her eyes. “It’s okay. She’s fine. She just has a surprise for you, and she needed some time to get it ready. She’ll be at the shop tonight, okay?”
Maeve sniffled. “Okay. Tell her I love her.”
“Oh, Miff. She knows. But I’ll tell her anyway.”
Tears rolled down Maeve’s cheeks and she wiped them away. “I love you too, Wee.”
Winnie chuckled softly. “Okay. Take care of yourself, calm yourself, and all will be as it should be tonight.”
“Okay. I trust you.”
She hung up and took a deep breath, still on the verge of breaking down to sob. She had no idea what to do with herself without Cerys. The whole world suddenly seemed like a monstrous place and she was stuck in it alone. She washed her breakfast dishes and took Cerys’ outside. The tortoiseshell cat they had almost adopted traipsed through the underbrush on the edge of their property as if he sensed that she was bringing him food. She crouched and put the plate down, running her fingers through the fat cat’s fur, listening to the gluttonous sounds of his eating.
“This surprise better be very worthwhile,” she said. The cat looked up, looked around, then went back to eating. “Yes. I agree. She’s very selfish. I would much rather have breakfast with you, anyway.”
The cat lifted his head and licked his lips. Maeve bent down and put her lips next to his ear, softly reciting Winnie’s address. “Go to her. She likes petting you in the mornings. If I can’t be there, you can be. Go to her. Let her cuddle you as much as she wants and there will be a nice can of tuna in it for you tomorrow.”
The cat turned and hurried away, tail high as it disappeared into the grass. Maeve watched him go, arms resting on her knees, feeling the brisk air on her exposed skin. She kissed two fingers and held them out in front of her in the direction of Winnie’s house.
Cerys was on the island. Cerys was close, and if the need got desperate enough she could surrender the surprise and go to her. That was enough. She sighed and stood up to retrieve her sweater and go to work.
#
Maeve spent the morning smudging the shop. She was in a foul, sad mood due to Cerys’ absence, and she didn’t want that to ruin the good work they had done on the masks and all their merchandise. The last thing she wanted to do was spread her mood to her customers. She chose sage and cedar, Cerys’ favorite scents, and performed the ceremony over herself so she would be cleansed before she started on the environment. She took her time, lingering in the corners and in the areas she would be spending the most time. When she finished she felt accomplished, but no less depressed.
People came in all morning to look at the masks, choosing one for that night’s party, and then leaving the store. Every time the door closed behind someone she wanted to call out, tell them to wait, ask them to sit with her. She’d never felt lonelier. She’d never wished harder for a cell phone or some sort of electronic means to keep tabs on where Cerys was or what she was doing. Was she helping Winnie at the bakery? Was she on the mainland?
She resolved that she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t become a blubbering mess who couldn’t operate without the love of her life. Her adored one. She rubbed a knuckle against the corner of her eye and stared blankly down at the counter.
They were independent. They could exist without one another for long periods of time. She was sure of it, even if the theory had never been put into practice. Why would it have to be? They lived together and worked together. There never needed to be a day or an hour where they were separated. Or if they were separated, they always knew where the other was. Cerys was grocery shopping, or Maeve was at the library. It was the not knowing, she decided, that was making the day so painful.
The hours stretched on. She forgot to eat lunch until she forced herself to have an apple and some peanut butter crackers. Cerys would have chided her for the mediocre meal, but she didn’t care. She did some last minute adjustments on a few masks, helped customers find something appropriate for the party, and paced in circles around the shop she adored but at the moment felt more like a hamster’s cage. She wanted to rattle the walls, she wanted to shout out on every plane for Cerys to hear her. She just needed a hint. Just a whisper of Cerys’ voice would get her through the next couple of hours.
Somehow she made it through the day. Her sorrow had transmuted into annoyance and anger. Cerys had to be feeling the same withdrawal symptoms, but it was within her power to change it. Cerys could come home to her and end both their suffering, but she refused. She was just being a stubborn flame-haired witch, and it would serve her right if Maeve was gone when she finally did decide to grace the store with her presence.
But no. No, that would be wrong. And Cerys was doing it as a gift, allegedly, so Maeve would have to trust there was a golden door waiting at the end of this torture.
There was a buffer period between the end of business and the start of the party. She spent a few minutes smudging again, casting away all the bad and sad spirits she had let into the store during the workday. She went home to change, dressing in a white and black harlequin mask, a brown fedora, and a crisp white dress shirt underneath a velvet cape. She was no character in particular but she had worked out a backstory for her mysterious man. She discovered that without Cerys there, she didn’t particularly feel like telling the story to anyone.
“Damn it, Reese,” she growled. “That’s it...”
Still in costume, Maeve left their house and jumped onto her bicycle. Her cape trailed out behind her as she rode, ignoring the trick-or-treaters who gawped at her as she passed. She was on a mission. The soles of her knee-high boots threatened to slip off the pedals but she didn’t give them a chance to trip her up. She pedaled hard, fast, head down and shoulders hunched as if she expected the bike to lift into the air. She could have made that happen, she supposed, but she had other things on her mind.
Cerys after a bath, holding a towel in front of her, a storm of freckles on her chest and shoulders.
Cerys bleeding after she fell off her bike, gently kissing away her tears after cleaning the wound.
Cerys naked and curled up in Maeve’s bed, lips and fingers moist, smiling as Maeve woke up and saw what her sister was doing.
Maeve focused on Cerys’ eyes, her lips, the sound of her voice and the touch of her skin, and the trail lit up like neon. She knew precisely where to turn and when. Onward she flew, toward the northernmost part of the island, where the ocean met the marching columns of thick gray clouds. There was rain in the air but the storm had yet to develop. She could smell the ozone in the air as she finally dropped her bike and ran into the small wooded glen near Winnie’s home. The ground was mulch under her boots and branches snagged at her cape and fedora. She left the mask on and tugged the brim of her hat low so the wind wouldn’t blow it away.
Finally she came to a clearing. Framed by the dark skies and water, Cerys looked like a shaft of burning light. Her hair was brilliantly red, her skin pale and luminescent. She wore a green dress that made her look like a rose caught in the wind, and Maeve put a hand to her lips to keep from crying out at the sight of her. It had been less than twelve hours since she woke up alone but it felt like a lifetime. Cerys turned before Maeve could say her name, and she smiled.
“Hello, Miff.”
“I’m sorry.” Maeve sniffled as her tears rolled down under her mask. “I know you have a surprise, and I know it was going to be epic and wonderful, but I don’t care. I need you, Reese. The thought of spending one more hour, one more minute being without you... that’s all I need. I don’t need your surprise, darling, I need you.” She took Cerys’ hands and sank to her knees, overwhelmed simply by being able to touch her. She kissed the back of her hands reverently. “I’m sorry.”
Cerys said, “Surprise.”
Maeve looked up at her. “What...?”
Cerys knelt and slid her hands up Maeve’s arms. “We were born together. Formed together and brought into this world less than a minute apart. We’ve never been without each other. And as wonderful as that is, it also means you’ve never had to find me. You’ve never had to want me so desperately you ran across the island in your Halloween costume. And I’ve never known what it was like to be pursued.” She touched the curve of Maeve’s face through her mask. “All day today, I’ve felt you wanting me. Needing me, calling out for me. It was torture to resist, but I knew that you were aching for me.”
Maeve said, “And it let me see you in a new light.” She brushed her thumb over Cerys’ bottom lip. “My love, my darling sister, my joy.” She furrowed her brow. “We’ve never ached for each other, have we?”
“We never had to. We were never unlucky enough.”
Maeve kissed Cerys, who wrapped both arms protectively around her sister. Their tongues touched, and it was somehow even more spectacular than their first taboo kiss under the blankets of their teenage bedroom. This was the kiss of reunion, something they’d never gotten a chance to experience. Maeve’s heart filled with joy and happiness, relief that Cerys was okay, glee that they would be going home together. It was a painful gift to create, but there was no feeling in the world that compared to being in one another’s arms again.
They parted, and Maeve pecked her sister’s nose, eyes, cheeks, and chin before kissing her lips once more.
“Did you miss me?”
“Did...” Cerys laughed and tilted her head back. “Miff, I brought up a storm!”
Maeve laughed and dragged her fingertips over Cerys’ face. “This was a glorious present, Reese. But... never again. Okay? Only absent if necessary. I can’t bear it again.”
“I concur. Winnie’s house has never been cleaner.”
Maeve laughed and stood up. She offered Cerys her hand, helped her up, and they brushed the dirt and grass from their knees before linking fingers again.
“Do you have your bicycle?”
“No...”
“That’s okay. You can ride on my handlebars.”
Cerys laughed and kissed Maeve’s mask as they walked out of the glen, back to the road. As magnificent as it was to have Cerys back, there would be plenty of opportunities to make up for lost time. For now they had a party to attend, and she couldn’t wait to see what magic their masks might produce.
Summary: Maeve and Cerys Cabot own a boutique on the island where their family has lived for generations. The sisters have a very close relationships and, on Samhain, Cerys has a special gift for Maeve. (5,725 words)
The Cabot Girls of Coventry Island
by Geonn Cannon
http://www.geonncannon.com
Copyright © 2014 Geonn Cannon
On my site
On AO3
Cabot women had lived on the island for generations. When the town was incorporated in 1796, a placard commemorating the event was erected outside of Town Hall. Bronwyn Cabot was one of the first names listed. Through the years the island was never without at least two generations of Cabots. Currently abiding in the stately manor that stood on a seaward cliff were Mairwen Cabot and her partner, Liza. Her daughter Ashlyn lived in a house in town, and her daughters had all spread off after leaving high school.
Arwyn, who went by Winnie, was the oldest. She inherited the family bakery and the antique oven that went with it. She wove her spells through the baked goods she sold.
Maeve and Cerys were the twins, and they ran the town boutique. They were sororal twins and frequently mistaken for friends rather than sisters. They were with each other constantly and lived together in one of the large houses on First Street. The house was originally owned by one of the town founders. The Cabot family was woven into the very fabric of the town, so it made sense that the two youngest members of the current generation ran a boutique where the majority of their neighbors bought their clothes.
The twins woke at the same time as their older sister even though she lived across town. They sensed her awareness and became infected with it themselves. They shared a bedroom at the top of the house, and every morning Cerys opened the circular window to let the first rays of the morning in. She and Maeve shared a set of green plaid pajamas. Cerys wore the bottoms with a plain white T-shirt, while Maeve wore the top over a pair of briefs. They would spend the early morning hours sitting cross-legged on the floor of their bedroom, spelling and praying, welcoming the day and building up the energy they would spend the rest of the day spreading to the people of the town.
Eventually they would dress and go downstairs for breakfast. They were both willowy women, long-limbed and graceful, with long slender necks and delicate features. Maeve was darker, with a thin-lipped smile and a pointed chin. Her hair was black, her eyes wide and sparkling as a bowl of chocolate. Cerys was earthier, with a slightly rounder face and shining green eyes. Her hair was red with a tendency to become blonde during the summer months when it swallowed up the sun.
Maeve wore jeans and a wide leather belt with a peasant blouse. The blouse left her shoulders bare and made it an odd choice for late October in the northeast, but she was always warm enough no matter what she wore. Cerys preferred dresses no matter what the season. Today her dress was pale yellow with small orange flowers, and Maeve pretended to pluck one of the petals as Cerys passed her to go into the kitchen. They ate together in the nook, then finally put on their shoes and took out their bicycles.
Their home was on the southern tip of the island, and the town was clustered around the bridge on the bell-shaped northern shore. They took the longer route along the eastern side of the island so they could pass the family home. Mama and Gram were still inside but they waved regardless as they passed the white picket fence that enclosed their sprawling front yard. One day Winnie would inherit the house, and perhaps Maeve and Cerys would join her there in their twilight years. Tradition stated the eldest got the house, and the youngest had more freedom to wander.
For the moment the Cabot women were more than happy to stay right where they were. Father Danny was outside the church when they rode by and he offered them a smile and a shouted hello. He was young and new to the island, and initially he’d been wary about the idea of a coven of witches living on his doorstep. But Gram explained to him that they weren’t the pop culture, medieval propaganda of witches. They didn’t dance naked in the moonlight (they danced naked in their bedrooms, but only because it felt awesome and if the song was right). They didn’t sacrifice animals (although they weren’t vegan), and they didn’t worship Satan.
“We pray, we sing, we believe in prayer and rituals. We may not sing the same hymns you do, but we’re playing in a similar key.”
The people of the island were accustomed to the Cabots, had always known about them and what they could do, and it was centuries too late for anyone to raise a fuss. If the Cabot women meant to do harm they would have done it centuries ago.
The day was calm and overcast, with sheets of October clouds piled up as if awaiting their turn to skid across the mainland. Despite the grayness, everyone they passed was friendly and chipper and some of them seeming to hasten when they saw that the Stormy Mouse Boutique was about to open. Maeve still smiled when she thought of the name; it had been the result of a brainstorming session on the floor of their bedroom, late and night and fueled by one glass of wine too many. When they woke the next morning, tucked into the same bed, Maeve had seen the name written on Cerys’ hand. She considered that enough destiny to name the store.
Maeve arrived at the Mouse first, skidding her sneaker along the pavement to stop her bike. She unlocked the door and said a blessing under her breath as she let in the first breath of morning. The day would be a good one, they would have as many customers as necessary, and those customers would be pleased with their purchases.
Cerys arrived half a minute after her, always slower due to the fact she took a less direct path. She would weave to brush her fingers through wet leaves, or she would circle to have a quick conversation with someone. But no matter how long she lingered she always arrived within forty-five seconds of Maeve, just like the day they were born. She pushed her hair out of her face and brushed past Maeve to the back of the store. She switched on the lights as she went into the back room, and Maeve flipped the sign on the door to OPEN.
“Have you given any thought to the Samhain party?” Cerys asked when she returned from the back room. She had put on an apron emblazoned with the boutique’s name and logo, and her tangerine-colored hair pulled into a loose twist. “We need to put something together soon if we’re going to send out the invitations in time.”
“I was thinking a masquerade,” Maeve said as she joined her sister behind the counter. “We could design the masks, everyone could be someone else for an evening.” She picked up the sleeve of a display blouse and draped it across the lower half of her face. She reached out and dragged her fingers down Cerys’ bare arm. “Everyone wants to get out of their own skin once in a while.”
Cerys smiled. “Sounds like a fine time.”
The bell over the front door jingled as Cynthia Vincent let herself in. Cerys smiled and went to greet her, and Maeve took up her position behind the cash register. They offered a very unique product in their shop. She and Cerys made most of the clothes themselves, and none of it was much different from what one might find at any outlet mall. Once the clothes were ready for sale, she and Cerys blessed them. Whoever wore the clothes would feel better about themselves, would feel more confident and better equipped to face the day.
“I think you would look amazing in lilac. It might be more of a summer color but I think we can risk a little splash, right? It’s still autumn, so we can get away with it.”
Maeve smiled and shook her head. Cerys was quite the saleswoman. As her sister prepared to sell Cynthia four blouses instead of the one she had come in to buy, Maeve opened a drawer and looked at the fabric folded neatly within. A night of masks, an evening of wearing someone else’s face for a change. One could easily forget consequences, could take leaps that would ordinarily frighten them, could open the door to all sorts of possibilities.
She took a handful of the cloth out of the drawer and used her knee to push it shut. “Reese? I’m going to be in the back room for a while.”
Cerys smiled. “Going to be doing some designing?”
Maeve winked at her. “Make up the signs. The Cabots are holding a masquerade.”
#
That night Maeve took her design pad into the bath with her. She loved her huge tub so much that she reserved it for special occasions and long soaks. There was a modern shower downstairs that she shared with Cerys and was used for actual bathing. The tub was specifically for pampering herself. Her hair was pinned on top of her head, and she was using the tub tray to sketch a few designs for the masks she wanted to make. She heard a clatter in the bedroom.
“Reese? Are you going to bed? Come here. I want you to see my designs.”
Cerys came into the bathroom having already stripped down to her panties and undershirt but hadn’t yet donned her pajamas. She crouched by the tub next to Maeve’s head and idly played with her sister’s hair while Maeve held up the sketch pad to show her what she’d come up with.
“I like this,” Cerys said, touching a full-face covering with a fan of feathers arcing above the eyes. “It looks sort of like a bird.”
“If we can get the material I might made a beak.”
“That could make drinking difficult.”
“We’ll put out straws.” Cerys giggled and kissed Maeve’s cheek. “Do you want to share my bath?”
“Yes, please.”
Cerys stood up and moved to the other side of the tub. She stepped over the lip and sank down, not bothering to take off her clothes. As she sank down she bent her knees and Maeve twisted her hips to the side so Cerys had room to stretch out. She felt Cerys’ toes wiggling against her bare hip and she smiled as she reclined against the curve of the tub. Cerys cupped her hands in the bubbles and blew them into Maeve’s face.
“You brat,” Maeve said with a chuckle. “See if I ever share my tub with you again.”
Cerys puffed out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. Maeve reached under the bubbles to retrieve Cerys’ foot, lifting it up out of the water to massage the arch. Cerys sighed and let her head fall back, her arms on the side of the bath as her toes curled. She moaned quietly and Maeve knew she had succeeded in reducing her sister to a quivering mass of loose muscles.
“And that’s why I can always get you to do what I want.”
“No you can’t,” Cerys murmured. “Why? What do you want me to do?” She lifted her head and opened her eyes, one eyebrow arching suggestively.
Maeve grinned and chuckled low in her throat. She kissed the ball of Cerys’ foot and let it sink again, then pushed the table out of the way so her notepad wouldn’t get wet. She slid down in the tub so the water would cover the curve of her breasts.
“I think it’s going to be a good party,” she said.
Cerys nodded. “Yeah. I can’t wait to see what your mask will be.”
Maeve smiled.
Cerys leaned forward, her breasts against her knees as she brushed the stray strands of hair away from her sister’s face. She bit her lip, and Maeve leaned her head to one side as she was examined.
“I like the way your ears stick out a little.”
“Hey!”
“No, it’s a good thing.” She stroked the shell of one, transferring the moisture from the tub onto the skin. “They poke out when you wear your hair down. It makes you look like...”
“I know what it makes me look like.”
“A cartoon mouse,” Cerys said anyway.
Maeve reached up and slapped Cerys’ hand away, and Cerys laughed as she lost her balance. She fell against Maeve’s legs, and Maeve wrapped wet arms around her sister to keep her from escaping. Their faces lined up as they both laughed, and Maeve leaned forward to kiss Cerys’ bottom lip. Cerys purred quietly, tilted her head to the side, and slipped her tongue into Maeve’s mouth. She scooted forward and Maeve straightened her legs, sinking even lower as Cerys rose above her. Cerys cupped Maeve’s face, pulling back to drag her tongue over her sister’s parted lips.
When Cerys sat up, the bath water still dripping from her curves, her clothes soaked through so that everything underneath was visible in a way that Maeve found more arousing than if she’d been naked. Cerys smiled and brushed her thumb over Maeve’s cheek.
“I love you, Miff.”
Maeve caressed the curve of Cerys’ hip. “Go to bed, Reese.”
Cerys bent down and kissed the tip of Maeve’s nose and lifted herself up. Maeve watched her go and then lay back to look up at the ceiling. She knew how many people would frown on the special relationship she had with her sister, knew there were those who would consider it wrong on every level. The fact was she never felt comfortable enough with anyone else to feel romantic toward them. She grew up in a very tight knit family, with a very cozy coven, so everyone she knew felt like family to her. Cerys was different. Cerys was her constant. She had only lived forty-five seconds without Cerys in her life, and she didn’t want to add even one more second to that.
They were sixteen the first time, after years of sharing a room and occasionally sharing a bed, Cerys took it a step further. Maeve remembered being scared stiff as they cowered together under the covers while Cerys pushed them pajamas out onto the floor. Cerys was her first kiss, and her first lover.
They wanted Winnie to be the first to know, but they never even got a chance to tell her. The next time they saw her she simply knew. Cerys was afraid she would judge them, but Winnie had just taken their hands and kissed the knuckles.
“You were made the same, but you needed two bodies to contain all the power of your soul. Why wouldn’t you love each other in every way possible?”
The true nature of their relationship was, of course, known only to the closest members of their family. The town might accept their witchcraft but incest was probably a road too far.
Maeve finally finished her bath and let the water drain. She toweled off, said her prayers, and went into the bedroom. Cerys was in her own bed under the window, awake and curled on her side with a book open on her mattress. Maeve squeezed her sister’s toes through the blanket as she passed, put on her pajamas, and crawled into her own bed.
“Read to me, Reese?” she asked as she tucked herself in.
“You won’t know the story.”
“That’s okay. I just want to hear your voice.”
Cerys smiled and put her finger on the page to track her spot. Maeve tucked her hand under the pillow and grinned as Cerys began to read from the point where she had left off reading.
#
The next morning in the shop, Maeve got to work on the masks. In the back room she measured and clipped and sewed pieces together, her tongue poking between her lips as she threaded the needle through the delicate material. Cerys came in to check on her progress when business was slow, occasionally modeling one of the masks or helping sketch something. At one point Maeve got a cramp in her hand. Seconds after the pain shot up her arm but before she had vocally reacted, Cerys slipped off her stool and took Maeve’s hand in both of hers. She knew right where the worst pain was, and she knew where to apply pressure to ease it.
“It feels better. Thank you, Reese.”
“Sure, Miff.” She bent down and kissed Maeve’s palm. Maeve cupped her cheek, and Cerys sank down onto her sister’s lap. She turned to look at the finished masks while Maeve rested her head on Cerys’ chest. “This is going to be a great party. You know what I was thinking?”
“About Winnie’s Harvest Cookies?”
“Yeah,” Cerys said, not even surprised. “She puts spells in them to open people’s eyes. It awakens them to things they might otherwise ignore.”
Maeve said, “You want to release people’s inhibitions.”
“Masks are safe,” Cerys said. “They protect us from being ashamed or scared. We’re more willing to take a risk when we’re wearing a mask.” She looked down at Maeve and touched the tip of her upturned nose with hers. “What do you think?”
“I think we could pull something together. Taking a chance, taking a leap... I think I have something for that. Do we have any rosemary?”
“Mm.” Cerys slipped off Maeve’s lap and went into the main office humming ‘parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.’ Maeve giggled and flexed her hand to make sure the cramp was completely gone before she went back to her work.
#
The day they revealed their relationship to their mother, Ashlyn had stopped what she was doing and looked out the window for a long moment. Finally she chuffed softly, shook her head, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that makes a whole lot of sense for you two. Not for everyone, but... you two?” She looked at her younger daughters and nodded. “Yes, you two, I understand.”
Their grandmother hadn’t even needed to think about it. She cupped Maeve’s cheek and patted Cerys’ hand. “It happens. In this family, yes. To twins, especially. You are strong separately, yes, but you’re supposed to be together.” She hooked her forefingers together and nodded forcefully. “My girls. You will make each other so strong.”
Maeve wondered if something was broken in her, if she was just built wrong. But she looked at Winnie and knew she would never cross that line with her. She loved Winnie fiercely, and she would do anything for her older sister, but there was no romantic or sexual draw to her. She loved Winnie, but she was in love with Cerys. It took her a long time to find peace with that fact, and now she felt her love of Cerys was the treasure for a hard-fought war.
Cerys made up the flyers for their Samhain celebration and went out to post them while Maeve finished the masks. She examined the variety and decided there was enough for everyone to choose whatever disguise would be right for them. Some were colorful while others were dark, and some concealed the entire face while others were Harlequin masks that only crossed over the wearer’s eyes. There were festooned with ribbons and lace, decorated with designs both glaring and subtle... She smiled as she picked up one with a vaguely feline shape and held it up in front of her face so she could see through the eyeholes.
She still hadn’t decided what she was going to be for the party. Past years she and Cerys had coordinated costumes, worn something that had special meaning for them but would be lost on any outsiders. This year she wanted to do something different. She wanted to do something solely for her sister to show her how much she cared.
Cerys entered as if summoned by Maeve’s thoughts and smiled at her kittenish face. “It suits you.”
“Mrow,” Maeve said, clawing at the air before she put the mask back with the others. “I think we have enough, don’t you?”
“Looks like.”
Maeve held her hands out across the table palm-up. Cerys stood across from her and placed the backs of her hands into her sister’s cupped palms. They closed their eyes and lowered their heads, speaking in harmony with one another to cast a spell over the masks. It was a simple blessing, one they had done every Samhain, that whoever wore their masks would find fun, happiness, and release of inhibitions in a safe manner. No one would do anything they didn’t want to but would instead be free of the shackles that came with societal expectations. Theirs would, as always, be a party without judgment or fear of recriminations.
She opened her eyes and saw Cerys was staring at her. They smiled at the same time and continued speaking as their power flowed into the masks Maeve had created.
#
On October 31, Maeve woke to find herself alone in the bedroom. She still felt Cerys near so she took a shower and dressed in an off-shoulder smock and jeans. She padded barefoot outside and looked in the garden, carried her coffee cup to the fence, and squinted toward the rising sun to see if she could spot Cerys walking to the store. Their neighbor, Mr. Bradley, waved to her as he got into his VW bug, and she forced a smile to wave back.
When she turned to go back inside, she twisted the chain of her necklace around her finger with a worried crease in her brow.
“Reese, where are you? I can feel you, but...” She stopped on the front step and looked behind her again. Nothing. No sign, no whisper, nothing indicating that Cerys heard her. “Please, baby girl. Come home to me. I need you.”
She went inside and made breakfast for them both, but Cerys’ food went untouched. Maeve stared at it, eyes wide and shimmering with tears. Her phone startled her when it rang, and she punched the answer button without looking.
“Winnie, she’s just gone...”
“I know, sweetheart. She thought you would be able to feel her, but your distress is killing her. She asked me to call and tell you she’s okay.”
Maeve stood and went to the window. She bit her thumbnail as she looked out, seeking her twin with all of her senses.
“Where’s my Reese?” she asked softly. “Please, Arwyn.”
“Sh, baby girl.” Winnie spoke gently and kept her voice at a soothing cadence. Maeve could almost feel their older sister’s fingers stroking her hair. She rested her forehead against the windowpane and closed her eyes. “It’s okay. She’s fine. She just has a surprise for you, and she needed some time to get it ready. She’ll be at the shop tonight, okay?”
Maeve sniffled. “Okay. Tell her I love her.”
“Oh, Miff. She knows. But I’ll tell her anyway.”
Tears rolled down Maeve’s cheeks and she wiped them away. “I love you too, Wee.”
Winnie chuckled softly. “Okay. Take care of yourself, calm yourself, and all will be as it should be tonight.”
“Okay. I trust you.”
She hung up and took a deep breath, still on the verge of breaking down to sob. She had no idea what to do with herself without Cerys. The whole world suddenly seemed like a monstrous place and she was stuck in it alone. She washed her breakfast dishes and took Cerys’ outside. The tortoiseshell cat they had almost adopted traipsed through the underbrush on the edge of their property as if he sensed that she was bringing him food. She crouched and put the plate down, running her fingers through the fat cat’s fur, listening to the gluttonous sounds of his eating.
“This surprise better be very worthwhile,” she said. The cat looked up, looked around, then went back to eating. “Yes. I agree. She’s very selfish. I would much rather have breakfast with you, anyway.”
The cat lifted his head and licked his lips. Maeve bent down and put her lips next to his ear, softly reciting Winnie’s address. “Go to her. She likes petting you in the mornings. If I can’t be there, you can be. Go to her. Let her cuddle you as much as she wants and there will be a nice can of tuna in it for you tomorrow.”
The cat turned and hurried away, tail high as it disappeared into the grass. Maeve watched him go, arms resting on her knees, feeling the brisk air on her exposed skin. She kissed two fingers and held them out in front of her in the direction of Winnie’s house.
Cerys was on the island. Cerys was close, and if the need got desperate enough she could surrender the surprise and go to her. That was enough. She sighed and stood up to retrieve her sweater and go to work.
#
Maeve spent the morning smudging the shop. She was in a foul, sad mood due to Cerys’ absence, and she didn’t want that to ruin the good work they had done on the masks and all their merchandise. The last thing she wanted to do was spread her mood to her customers. She chose sage and cedar, Cerys’ favorite scents, and performed the ceremony over herself so she would be cleansed before she started on the environment. She took her time, lingering in the corners and in the areas she would be spending the most time. When she finished she felt accomplished, but no less depressed.
People came in all morning to look at the masks, choosing one for that night’s party, and then leaving the store. Every time the door closed behind someone she wanted to call out, tell them to wait, ask them to sit with her. She’d never felt lonelier. She’d never wished harder for a cell phone or some sort of electronic means to keep tabs on where Cerys was or what she was doing. Was she helping Winnie at the bakery? Was she on the mainland?
She resolved that she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t become a blubbering mess who couldn’t operate without the love of her life. Her adored one. She rubbed a knuckle against the corner of her eye and stared blankly down at the counter.
They were independent. They could exist without one another for long periods of time. She was sure of it, even if the theory had never been put into practice. Why would it have to be? They lived together and worked together. There never needed to be a day or an hour where they were separated. Or if they were separated, they always knew where the other was. Cerys was grocery shopping, or Maeve was at the library. It was the not knowing, she decided, that was making the day so painful.
The hours stretched on. She forgot to eat lunch until she forced herself to have an apple and some peanut butter crackers. Cerys would have chided her for the mediocre meal, but she didn’t care. She did some last minute adjustments on a few masks, helped customers find something appropriate for the party, and paced in circles around the shop she adored but at the moment felt more like a hamster’s cage. She wanted to rattle the walls, she wanted to shout out on every plane for Cerys to hear her. She just needed a hint. Just a whisper of Cerys’ voice would get her through the next couple of hours.
Somehow she made it through the day. Her sorrow had transmuted into annoyance and anger. Cerys had to be feeling the same withdrawal symptoms, but it was within her power to change it. Cerys could come home to her and end both their suffering, but she refused. She was just being a stubborn flame-haired witch, and it would serve her right if Maeve was gone when she finally did decide to grace the store with her presence.
But no. No, that would be wrong. And Cerys was doing it as a gift, allegedly, so Maeve would have to trust there was a golden door waiting at the end of this torture.
There was a buffer period between the end of business and the start of the party. She spent a few minutes smudging again, casting away all the bad and sad spirits she had let into the store during the workday. She went home to change, dressing in a white and black harlequin mask, a brown fedora, and a crisp white dress shirt underneath a velvet cape. She was no character in particular but she had worked out a backstory for her mysterious man. She discovered that without Cerys there, she didn’t particularly feel like telling the story to anyone.
“Damn it, Reese,” she growled. “That’s it...”
Still in costume, Maeve left their house and jumped onto her bicycle. Her cape trailed out behind her as she rode, ignoring the trick-or-treaters who gawped at her as she passed. She was on a mission. The soles of her knee-high boots threatened to slip off the pedals but she didn’t give them a chance to trip her up. She pedaled hard, fast, head down and shoulders hunched as if she expected the bike to lift into the air. She could have made that happen, she supposed, but she had other things on her mind.
Cerys after a bath, holding a towel in front of her, a storm of freckles on her chest and shoulders.
Cerys bleeding after she fell off her bike, gently kissing away her tears after cleaning the wound.
Cerys naked and curled up in Maeve’s bed, lips and fingers moist, smiling as Maeve woke up and saw what her sister was doing.
Maeve focused on Cerys’ eyes, her lips, the sound of her voice and the touch of her skin, and the trail lit up like neon. She knew precisely where to turn and when. Onward she flew, toward the northernmost part of the island, where the ocean met the marching columns of thick gray clouds. There was rain in the air but the storm had yet to develop. She could smell the ozone in the air as she finally dropped her bike and ran into the small wooded glen near Winnie’s home. The ground was mulch under her boots and branches snagged at her cape and fedora. She left the mask on and tugged the brim of her hat low so the wind wouldn’t blow it away.
Finally she came to a clearing. Framed by the dark skies and water, Cerys looked like a shaft of burning light. Her hair was brilliantly red, her skin pale and luminescent. She wore a green dress that made her look like a rose caught in the wind, and Maeve put a hand to her lips to keep from crying out at the sight of her. It had been less than twelve hours since she woke up alone but it felt like a lifetime. Cerys turned before Maeve could say her name, and she smiled.
“Hello, Miff.”
“I’m sorry.” Maeve sniffled as her tears rolled down under her mask. “I know you have a surprise, and I know it was going to be epic and wonderful, but I don’t care. I need you, Reese. The thought of spending one more hour, one more minute being without you... that’s all I need. I don’t need your surprise, darling, I need you.” She took Cerys’ hands and sank to her knees, overwhelmed simply by being able to touch her. She kissed the back of her hands reverently. “I’m sorry.”
Cerys said, “Surprise.”
Maeve looked up at her. “What...?”
Cerys knelt and slid her hands up Maeve’s arms. “We were born together. Formed together and brought into this world less than a minute apart. We’ve never been without each other. And as wonderful as that is, it also means you’ve never had to find me. You’ve never had to want me so desperately you ran across the island in your Halloween costume. And I’ve never known what it was like to be pursued.” She touched the curve of Maeve’s face through her mask. “All day today, I’ve felt you wanting me. Needing me, calling out for me. It was torture to resist, but I knew that you were aching for me.”
Maeve said, “And it let me see you in a new light.” She brushed her thumb over Cerys’ bottom lip. “My love, my darling sister, my joy.” She furrowed her brow. “We’ve never ached for each other, have we?”
“We never had to. We were never unlucky enough.”
Maeve kissed Cerys, who wrapped both arms protectively around her sister. Their tongues touched, and it was somehow even more spectacular than their first taboo kiss under the blankets of their teenage bedroom. This was the kiss of reunion, something they’d never gotten a chance to experience. Maeve’s heart filled with joy and happiness, relief that Cerys was okay, glee that they would be going home together. It was a painful gift to create, but there was no feeling in the world that compared to being in one another’s arms again.
They parted, and Maeve pecked her sister’s nose, eyes, cheeks, and chin before kissing her lips once more.
“Did you miss me?”
“Did...” Cerys laughed and tilted her head back. “Miff, I brought up a storm!”
Maeve laughed and dragged her fingertips over Cerys’ face. “This was a glorious present, Reese. But... never again. Okay? Only absent if necessary. I can’t bear it again.”
“I concur. Winnie’s house has never been cleaner.”
Maeve laughed and stood up. She offered Cerys her hand, helped her up, and they brushed the dirt and grass from their knees before linking fingers again.
“Do you have your bicycle?”
“No...”
“That’s okay. You can ride on my handlebars.”
Cerys laughed and kissed Maeve’s mask as they walked out of the glen, back to the road. As magnificent as it was to have Cerys back, there would be plenty of opportunities to make up for lost time. For now they had a party to attend, and she couldn’t wait to see what magic their masks might produce.