A/N: So the image above is how I picture Guinevere. It's a piece I did when I was just starting to figure out my art style. (Fun fact: I'm also a digital artist! If you're interested, I can share my Instagram. Lol) If you keep reading, you'll see why I decided to include it on this chapter!

"Can you pass me the wrench?" Barley asks, and I mindlessly pass the tool to his outstretched hand. A second later he rolls out from under Guinevere, grease smudged on his cheek and a raised eyebrow. "Okay, spill. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Because you passed me a screwdriver." He says as he holds it up. I sigh and pass him the wrench. "You know you can talk to me. Where's your head at?"

"It's just—it's been two months, Bar. I've done literally everything I can except flat out saying, 'hey, Ian. In case it already wasn't obvious, I really like you.'"

"I hate to say it, but my little brother is oblivious to these things."

"You're telling me. I asked him out to go see a band last week, and he suggested I bring you. Sometimes he acts like he thinks I have a crush on you, which no offense, I don't. You're one of my best friends, Bar. How am I supposed to do this?"

"Tell him." He replies, and I lean back against the garage wall with a groan. "I promise, it won't be bad."

"You can't promise that." I pick at my fingernail polish. "In my experience, people don't always act like we expect them to."

"You'll never know if you don't try."

"Don't try what?" Ian calls as he walks up to the garage, backpack still on since he stayed for one of his clubs after school.

My mind goes blank as I try to grasp an answer. All I can think is, "Did he hear our conversation? And dang, he looks cute today."

"That new diner that opened last year." Barley interjects on my behalf, and i shoot him a grateful smile as I try to hide my blush. "I keep telling her to try it, but she doesn't wanna go alone."

"Yeah, and my parents are out of town at an archeology convention until next week."

"Hey, Ian." Barley calls as he pretends to just think of the idea I'm sure he had from the moment he made up the excuse. "Why don't you take Y/N?"

Both of us immediately look at Barley. I don't know about Ian, but mine has a little disbelief laced in it. It fades a little when Ian starts to stutter. "Um, yeah. That is if—um—if you want to."

My palms start getting a little clammy as I nervously smile at him. "Yeah, I'd really like that."

"Cool. I—um—I'm gonna go drop my bag inside, and then we can talk about it while you teach me that spell we talked about?"

"Okay." I grin with a strange wave of giddy, childish excitement. Ian is practically bouncing as he turns and heads back into the house. It takes me a second to process it, and when it does, the dread begins to settle. "Wait, was that—is it supposed to be a date?"

Barley shrugs, and I can feel my head spin as all the blood seems to rush out. The panic I'm feeling starts to drift to him.  "Don't—please, don't freak out." He whispers as he wraps me up in a tight hug until I calm down. "I'll talk to Ian and find out what he thinks. Okay? Like I said, he pretty much never shuts up about you, and I know he likes you too. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Okay." I mumble and watch nervously as Barley heads inside too. A moment later, Ian comes back out, staff in hand. He fidgets with it as he approaches. "So, where do you wanna practice today?"

"How about the garage? Not a lot of stuff to damage since Barley had Guinevere out to work on her."

"That's probably a good idea. Old magic has a way of being unpredictable, but if we get it right, we might finally be able to figure out the source of my curse."

Ian's eyes light up at the mention of a new spell. Through the last couple months, I've been showing him everything I've learned—from spells to legends to old texts. Everything I throw at him, he latches on to—no matter the challenge.

"Really? How does that even work?" Ian asks as I hold out my hand.

"Well, first, it's a really really old spell, so it's not entirely clear on the details since the best translations are still pretty loose, but the idea is that we bring an object to life. Wizards did it all the time to have a magical companion that could help them detect curses or other magical spells. From what I can tell by looking at the original text is that anything brought to life by magic can see or sense magic itself and the origin."

"So whatever we bring to life can potentially find where your curse originated?" I nod in reply, and Ian shakes his head with that goofy smile he gets. "That's so cool! What are we bringing to life?"

"Don't laugh, but I brought Mr. Stuffy." I meekly tell him as I pull the bent up toy that's missing two legs. "The texts suggested using something without legs to prevent it from running away and stuff if it goes wrong."

"That doesn't sound very encouraging."

"Hey, magic isn't an exact science. It's emotion based, but if we do it better, the odds are in our favor. All we have to do is stay focused on Mr. Stuffy and nothing else."

"Focus on Mr. Stuffy no matter what. Got it." He repeats back to me along with the other instructions we need to do this properly. "Ready?"

"As close as I can be." I let out a small laugh and set the stuffed animal in front of us. Ian's hand slips into mine, and I silently pray he can't feel how my heart races at the touch. He offers it a small squeeze to tell me he's ready. My staff hums in my grip as we start.

It takes a minute for the spell to build up, and just as it starts to branch out, the unique sound of Guinevere alarm starts.
I press my eyes closed and try to block it out.

Focus on Mr. Stuffy. Focus on Mr. Stuffy.

I repeat the thought in my head, but for a split second, I glance over at Guinevere. That's when I feel the spell finish.

"No, no, no," I whisper as the swirls of light surround the van until it shifts into a form separate of the automobile. There, in the middle of the Lightfoot's driveway, is an eleven girl that I'm almost certain is the magically animated spirit of Guinevere.

Barley tumbled out of the house, looking at the van in panic as he tried to figure out what set off the alarm. I'm pretty sure it was something simple like leaf hitting it in a certain way or spot.

Guinevere, on the other hand, stumbles around for a second, clearly dazed before her gaze falls on Ian and I. "Oh, there you are!" I can barely blink before she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug, beaming the whole time, "Look! I have arms and legs! I can hug people now."

"Guinevere?" Ian and Barley shout seeming to just now catch up.

"Yep! Isn't this so cool?"

"No, not cool." I wheeze through short panicked breath as the driveway seems to rock under my feet. "This is bad. This is really, really bad."

Guinevere's face softens as Ian rushes over. "It's gonna be okay."

"No, it's not, Ian. This is what happened before. A spell went really wrong, and it caused a lot of trouble. Oh god, if my parents find out—no. I can't do that again."

"Look at me," Ian whispers and holds my face so I look at him. "We'll work this out. Okay? You're parents won't be back until next week. We can figure this out before them."

"Okay." I whisper, still questioning how this could possibly end well. Ian seems to sense the lingering anxiety and slips his hand into mine for reassurance. "I guess we might should just finish what we had planned since it kind of worked."

I look up to see Guinevere talking to Barley, and I swear he looks almost nervous. It strikes me as odd. He's always been the one full of charm and confidence. This is the first time I've seen him with the telltale signs of a crush.

"Sorry to interrupt, but um—Guin?"

"Yeah?" She turns to me with pink dusted cheeks. "What's up?"

"We need your help." Ian tags in, seemingly oblivious to the moment we just interrupted, which I'm starting to think is a Lightfoot family talent. "Can you—is there any way for you to tell if Y/N's cursed?"

Guinevere looks between me and Ian in confusion. "Cursed? There's no way." She pauses for a second, and I swear her eyes travel to the spaces around me before she continues. "You're too bright to have a curse. It's like there's a shimmer coming off you like—like waves crashing on a beach, which is weird that I know that. I've never even been to a beach."

"The books mentioned you might inadvertently get knowledge from us, known and remember certain things we do." I mumble out of reflex. I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't drop at being told I wasn't cursed—since that's the simplest explanation. "Are you sure though? You don't see anything strange?"

"No, I can't explain how I know, but you're energy is like a warm cup of cocoa in the winter. I feel like if something dark was around you it'd be cold." I sigh as my shoulders and hopes drop. "If it helps, the origin of your magic is old and beautiful."

"Wait, I'm confused. How do you know this? And how did you guys bring Guinevere to life?"

"I'll go first!" Guin cheers and tucks a bit of her long blue hair behind her ear. It's only now that I notice the white freckles dotting her cheeks and the unicorn tattoo on her arm. "They brought me to life with magic—which means I'm magic too."

"I think he needs more than that." I chime in with an encouraging smile.

"Right, well, I don't know how to explain it, but I can almost see magic. Except, I have to look really hard to see it, but it's easier to just feel."

Barley nods, still taking it in strides. "So, not that I'm complaining, but how did it end up being Guin?"

"The alarm went off mid-spell and kind of made it shift to her instead of—well, instead of Mr. Fluffy." Ian tells him since I'm a little too caught up in the revelation that I'm not cursed to explain.

"You still have Mr. Fluffy?!" Barley cheers with wide eyes.

"Not really the time, Barley." Guinevere whispers and places a hand on his shoulder.

"I—I need to go home and try to figure out what to do about—you know, everything." I offer Ian a sad grin. "Guin, you can stay with me until we can figure something out."

"Sure, I can help, if you want." She replies and lingers behind to talk to Barley for a second.

"Hey," Ian stops me with a gentle hand on my elbow, "we're still gonna figure this out."

I nod and wrap Ian in a hug. "Thank you—for helping me with this, and just everything. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You don't have to." He replies as he reciprocates the hug. After a long moment, he pulls away and ticks his hand in his pockets like when he's nervous. "I can come over tomorrow? That way we can both research what's going on, and maybe go to the diner after?"

"Food first. Research after."

That gains a laugh out of Ian as he nods. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then."

"It's a date." I say without really thinking and grin at the look on his face. Of course, I don't really get to dwell on it as Guinevere grabs my hand and drags me away.

"So," she teases as she loops her arm through mine, "you and Ian, huh?"

"I guess? What about you and Barley?"

"I guess." She shrugs, and we both dissolve into a fit of laughter. "We're gonna hang out more tomorrow. So we'll both just have to see. For the record, I'm gonna make sure you and Ian get together."

I raise a brow at her, but she just shrugs. Okay, maybe bringing Guin to life wasn't the worst thing to happen. Plus, I'm pretty sure I've got a new friend.