by Willow Mason
“It’s the chain,” Beezley said, jerking his nose at the object.
I reached for it again, feeling along its length for a clasp to open it. When I found nothing, I pulled at it, trying to bend it into a different shape using only my bare hands. The metal didn’t resist so much as not even notice I was trying. It stayed exactly the same shape. Resolute.
“Can you try biting it?” I bent down, pulling up my pageboy hair to allow him easy access. When he didn’t make a move, I shot an imploring glance his way. “Come on. Just give it a try.”
“It’s hard enough being trapped in this body without losing my teeth to foolishness. A minute ago, you were busy justifying why you couldn’t possibly use your black magic powers, now you’re desperate to get them back. How about you pick a side and stay on it?”
“I want the choice of using them or not. Without my powers, there’s no way out of here except by someone setting us free.”
“If you can’t budge the chain using your hands what makes you think my teeth will do a better job.” Beezley bared them, the long incisors glistening in the strengthening light. A burst of his breath reminded me I hadn’t brushed his teeth for a while.
“Fine.” I let my hair drop and sat cross-legged on the floor, feeling despair wash over me. I’d been without magic powers once before when Glynda took my white magic away from me, but this felt different.
My original powers were insipid compared to the strength of my black magic. The constant song of the occult spells in my body was a comfort even when I knew, and they knew, there was little chance of them being put to use.
“Come on,” I sang to my chest. “Come out from where you’re hiding. It’s just a piece of metal around my neck. There’s nothing to fear.”
“If you want to try moving a piece of immovable metal, there’s a door over here I could use a hand with.” Beezley cocked his head at me. “Want to use your power of song on the handle?”
My retort died on my lips as the clop of footsteps sounded outside. They walked directly towards us, stopping right outside the door.
“Hello, my little friends,” a male voice sang out, the notes playing sharp in my ear. “Time to get to work.”
A key turned in the lock and I had never wanted anything so much as I wanted the man outside to go away.
Chapter Nine
“My name is Aloysius, but you can call me, Sir.” The man giggled like an ageing camp queen, a hand delicately hovering in front of his tittering mouth.
“How about you let us out of here and neither of us ever call you at all?” I said, placing my hands on my hips to hide their shaking. “Holding us here is a crime and one my supreme won’t be happy about.”
“Really.” Aloysius placed a finger in the corner of his mouth. “It seems to me, Glynda would be glad to be shot of you. Nothing but trouble, that’s what I hear. Had your powers taken off you for bad behaviour.”
“Redeemed myself a lot since then, mate,” I spat back. “And no supreme likes to lose their witches to another coven. Even a witch as dim as you should know that.”
“Oh, I’m not a witch, dear.” He turned and took three steps away before twisting back to me and Beezley, beckoning us forward with his finger. “I promise you that the event I have planned right now is something you’ll both want to see.”
He gave another high-pitched giggle that made my eardrums shiver and a chill run the length of my back. With a quick glance at Beezley, who shrugged, we followed along behind him. Outside lay the chance for escape, after all.
With this nutcase apparently running things, it also offered the chance for things to take a quick turn south.
The sun outside the cells was our first reward. Even so early in the day, it warmed us through in a few minutes; the surrounding air pregnant with humidity. Aloysius led us to a single bleacher stand, seating us in the middle seats, front row, like guests of honour.
Other people soon joined us, crowding into seats and standing nearby when they were filled.
A jet plane flew overhead, a contrail tracing its path across the sky. As my eyes followed its progress, I wished I could be aboard it; fighting to open a packet of cheese and crackers for the amusement factor as much as needing a snack.
“Don’t look now, but Brianna and her mother are still in town,” Beezley whispered out of the side of his mouth. Unfortunately, in his doggie shape, he’d never mastered the volume control, and several heads turned around.
“Welcome to the event, ladies and gentlemen,” Aloysius yelled, and the crowd immediately settled. The show of power was bigger than anything else he’d done, and my hands wrung together in my lap. If he ordered these gentle townsfolk to tear Beezley limb from limb, I had a dreadful feeling they’d obey.
“You’ve had the pleasure of meeting our new resident mermaid before,” he continued, gesturing to Brianna to parade across the stage. “She’s helped me out greatly in a little quest I had, so now it’s time to pay the other half of her fee and transform her wonderful friend.”
Delia waved as she walked over to stand by Aloysius, earning herself a glare when she ventured too close. A curtsey to him appeared to mend his displeasure, and he nodded to his right, where a minion opened a horsebox, leading out its resident.
Instead of a horse, an old man walked out, blinking in the light. A chain hung around his neck and my hand crept up to my own as the minion unfastened it. When the old gent gave him a confused glance, the helper pushed him towards Delia. “You’re meant to change her back to human,” he said in a helpful shout.
The hairs on my arms stood on end as I realised, he must be the animus healer we’d chased for many months now. No wonder our friends couldn’t find him. Aloysius must have held him prisoner all this time.
My heart went out to the old dude as he stumbled forward, gently touching the back of his neck where the chain had rubbed it raw. His eyes were puzzled as he stared at the crowds surrounding him. The way he flinched at any sound made me think he’d occupied the cell next to ours. Maybe not this morning, but for a long time.
“Now, please. Let’s have absolute silence so the man can work his magic.”
Aloysius stood back, waving the animus healer in front of him. I caught a whisper as they passed. “Don’t make any mistakes, old man. Remember who you’ll end up punishing.”
I grew fearful for Delia. The pudgy woman stood with a beaming smile on her face. The crinkled cellophane wings buzzed with excitement and her hands were pressed together in front of her, as though in prayer.
“What c-creature are you?” the animus healer asked. “I’m s-sorry. I don’t recognise your form.”
Delia whispered something, but he cupped a hand to his ear, his face straining. “I’m a housefly,” she shouted, and he nodded while the audience laughed.
Lucinda gave a nod full of satisfaction. Her greasy smile made me feel like I was choking. How had we let these reprobates lead us straight into a trap? Why shouldn’t Beezley’s goodness triumph over their evil? I purposefully left myself out of that equation, knowing full well I’d done some dodgy things in my time.
“Silence,” Aloysius reminded the crowd as they filled the delay with chatter. “Absolute silence while the master concentrates.”
Would this be my future? Being trotted out to demonstrate my powers in return for a few hours of freedom before being locked back in my cage?
Beside me, Beezley’s frame was held tight with excitement. He stood on the edge of the chair with his eyes glued to the healer’s hands. His one chance to go back to a normal life stood in front of him. I should quiet my disruptive thoughts and let him have this moment, at least.
The animus healer’s hands glowed with green light, growing stronger with each second. Delia cast a nervous glance over her shoulder and her friend Brianna twisted one leg from side to side. She nodded and turned back to face the magic.
“I command the creature that resides within your form to be gone.” The animus closed in on Delia and stroke
d his hands down the length of her body—not touching but surrounding her in the strange green glow. “Its parts shall leave you and return you to the state in which you were born.”
Aloysius cleared his throat and shot a meaningful glance at the man, who swallowed and nodded, whispering something under his breath.
He backed up, the stream of green flowing from his hands and growing stronger with each second. It was hard to make out Delia’s shape within the light. I heard her nervous laugh then the animus healer swept his hands down. “CREATURE BE GONE!!!”
The green light pulsed out in a wave, whipping my hair into disarray and knocking one woman over. An aftereffect danced in my vision for a second, then I gasped as Delia burst into tears.
Her wings were gone. She pulled up her jeans and sobbed as human legs came into view. Her body had transformed in other ways, growing slender instead of squat and fat, and her skin glowed with good health.
“I’m free!” she shouted, and the crowd cheered.
Beezley jumped off the seat and ran to her. He skipped around Delia twice before running to the animus healer. “Do me. Please do me!”
As the elderly gentleman bent over, the minion came up behind him, affixing the chain around his neck. The animus roared in anger. “You promised!” he shouted, striking the helper across the face so hard he fell to the ground. The healer ran straight at Aloysius, raising his arm to throw a punch. “You promised!”
“Hold yourself,” Aloysius said, showing the man something cupped inside his hand. Even from my close vantage point, I couldn’t see, and he soon made a fist, cutting off the view.
The healer dropped to his knees, sobbing and pleading and tugging at Aloysius’s trouser leg. All decorum was gone. This was a man plunged into the hopelessness of complete despair.
Beezley joined in the begging and my skin crawled to see him prostrate himself in front of Aloysius. “I want to be human again. Give me that and I’ll give you anything you want.”
I blinked back tears and turned away, not wanting to be a witness to Beezley’s debasement. But he pulled me into the situation, shouting out, “Can’t you give him what he wants?”
“I don’t know what he wants,” I yelled back, my hands tightening into fists. “And I’m not giving him anything,” I added under my breath.
Aloysius stood there, completely passive despite everything going on around him. His eyes locked with mine and he gave a smile, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip as though he was wiping up drool.
“Why did you capture us?” I shouted, a part of me hoping the surrounding people would hear and turn on him. But the crowd was his to command, not mine. If they understood me, they ignored what I was saying.
“My master wanted to meet you,” Aloysius said, holding his hands up. “It’s nothing to do with me. I’m simply an underling following orders.”
“You’re not an underling. You’re the devil.”
I stood in front of him and reached down to tug Beezley to his feet. The animus healer sat back on his heels. Although he wiped the tears from his face, the misery stayed fixed in place.
“A guard will escort you back to your cell so you can get ready for dinner.”
“It’s barely breakfast time.” I tilted my head to my side. “Unless you’re an extremely early eater?”
Aloysius gave me a slow scan from my toes up to the top of my head. “I think you underestimate how much time you’ll need to make yourself look decent. Be ready by five o’clock and a guard will escort you to the site.”
“Wait!” I called out as he turned away. “Can I get this taken off?” I plucked at the neck chain. “It’s dreadfully itchy.”
He stared at me with a stony expression. It was answer enough.
“Who are we meeting?” I tried, desperate for him to stay long enough that Beezley or I could come up with some plan for escape. “Who is your master?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Aloysius turned on his heel and marched away.
Chapter Ten
When the guard deposited us back in the cell, I saw somebody had been busy. A bathtub filled with water now sat in the middle of the room, with a variety of shampoos, soaps, and lotions on display next to it. A large mirror now hung from the wall with a tray full of hair products on a chair nearby.
“Wow. How fancy.”
“Why didn’t you offer to trade with him?” Beezley asked—the first words he’d spoken to me in the journey back. “He wants you for something and if you’d offered to go willingly…”
A door nearby slammed. I’d been planning on magnanimously ignoring the elephant in the room, so for him to bring it up immediately stirred my irritation. “Instead of whining at me, why don’t you go inspect the peephole?”
“Because I’m too short. A matter I’d like to remedy, in case you’ve forgotten.”
I checked in the other cell and saw I’d been right. The animus healer squatted on the cold floor, his arms covering his head.
“Hey, there. Nice to meet you, neighbour.”
When Beezley toddled over, curious despite himself, I picked him up and held his face to the grate. “Now’s your chance to charm him.”
“He’s got the neck chain on. He won’t be able to help me.” Beezley wriggled until I popped him down on the floor, then he ran to a corner and curled in a ball. If only we had a TV set to the daytime soaps, he’d look right at home.
“I’m sorry for whatever hold Aloysius has over you,” I called through the peephole. The man didn’t change position, but I saw his shoulders stiffen—a sign he was listening. “Can you tell us anything to help us get out of here?”
After a few moments, the man raised his gaze to the peephole. His eyes were sunken and bruised, the whites bloodshot. “I’ve been here since August,” he said in a cracked voice. “If there was a way out, believe me, I would’ve found it.”
“What’s your name?”
He tilted his head to one side and licked his lips, squinting in concentration. “Marlon Wonder.” His mouth cracked into a smile. “My mother used to say I was the eighth wonder of the world.”
I picked Beezley up again and held him to the peephole. “This is my friend, Detective Sergeant Adam Beezley, and he’d very much like to get back to being human again. Is there any way…?”
My sentence trailed off as he touched the chain around his neck. “Normally, I’d be happy to oblige but I’m afraid I’m a little stuck just now. I see you’ve encountered the same problem.”
“Yes. I’d ask you if you know a way to get the chain off, but it’s evident you can’t.”
“What special powers do you have?”
I wiggled the fingers of my free hand ominously. “Black magic,” I intoned, like one of those scary movie presenters who used to haunt the main TV channel late on Saturday nights. “And this one knows the power of filling out a form in triplicate.”
Marlon laughed, getting to his feet with a groan. “There’re few things scarier than paperwork, I’ll agree on that.”
“What’s the routine like in here?” Beezley shot the question out like he was mid-interrogation, but the older man didn’t seem to mind.
“I sit. I stare at the walls. Somebody feeds me and mucks out my cell. I sit. I stare at the walls. If you wanted some time alone to think, it’s great.”
“The décor could do with a little work.” I peered farther through the small window. “I see you’ve been invited to the dinner tonight, as well.”
A tub sat against the far wall of his cell with the same assortment of cleaning supplies as we had.
“Oh, yes. Aloysius is expecting tonight to be a very big deal.”
“How often do the guards come down?” Beezley wasn’t going to let small talk get him off target. “Are the meals regular? Do they ever take you out to exercise?”
“Don’t worry, Detective. Once you’ve been here a week, you’ll have all the answers you could want.”
“I think he’s trying to a
void that outcome.”
Marlon offered me a sad smile. “I’m aware. Good luck with that.”
A bark came from behind me and I jumped, clutching Beezley until he growled. When the noise repeated, I ran to the window and saw familiar short legs and their accompanying tail wagging beside the bars.
“Porangi!”
The dog peered down on hearing his name and tried to lick my face through the bars. He was easily a foot short, but I stuck my hand up to rub him behind the ears.
“Where did you get to?”
At my question, the chihuahua embarked on a series of yaps, maybe detailing his grand adventures, maybe just in ecstasy that we’d met up again. When he slowed down, I slid my finger between his neck and his collar, wondering if we could use him as a messenger dog in some way.
According to the old movies I’d watch as reruns on Saturday afternoons as a kid, the magic words always began with Lassie!
The name wouldn’t work, but the context was worth a try.
“Porangi. I need you to fetch help. Do you understand?”
He gave another excited yap, twirled in a circle, then sprinted out of sight.
Beezley huffed out a sigh. “You know he’s gone forever, don’t you?”
“He used to be a familiar before an accident made him go la-la. There could still be a lot of the old knowledge trapped somewhere in his damaged wee brain.”
“A familiar, eh?” I turned, surprised to see Marlon peering through the peephole. “You know that’s what Aloysius is.”
My mouth dropped open. “I mean… He said he was an underling but a familiar? I didn’t think any humans held the role these days.”
“You’ll only think that’s weird until you meet his master. That’s one warlock who wishes he was a vampire.”
I rolled my eyes, remembering many teenage arguments on the virtues of vampires. The consensus was Yes, but… which eventually worked its way back around to Yes.
“At least a vampire can pass on their powers with a bite. What does Aloysius get out of it?”