Witch out of Water

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Witch out of Water Page 22

by Aiden James


  “Really... just like them?” I pointed toward the windows behind my bed, where beyond the blinds, scores of warlocks and witches continued to patrol Twin Magnolias like watchful hawks searching for a shield weakness to exploit.

  “Yes... Think of it as two passengers riding a motorcycle where one clings to the other who’s steering the bike,” she said. “In addition to our wands, Viviane’s uncanny instincts will protect us. Since she trusts me already, I’ll ride in front and you’ll hang onto me from behind. Hope that doesn’t bother you doing it that way.”

  “Nah... I’m secure in my masculinity—despite Serghei’s assertions to the contrary.” I added an elfin grin.

  “Ha! That’s funny... and sadly true about my brother.”

  Daciana shushed me while looking toward the door. Her smile briefly faded, but then she released a breath she must’ve been holding.

  “Okay, we’re still safe. But someone will be up to check on you before much longer, since your household is shutting down for the night. There’s just a few more things to cover, and then we should wrap things up ourselves,” she advised.

  “That sounds wise,” I agreed. “Besides, your arduous adventure to get here is surely catching up with you physically by now.”

  “It is... but a good night’s rest will help, along with a suitable place to hide-out inside your bedroom.”

  I had become used to the idea she could remain outside of my family’s awareness indefinitely. Obviously, there were limitations to that notion .

  “Yes, it’s true. Even though they can’t hear anything from me, and I arrived unnoticed, the cloaking protection provided by Wizard Gabon will soon end,” she said. “I won’t remain physically invisible to anyone here inside your house, and might not be already. Fortunately, Sorin provided a wizard’s incantation that I can use one time to shrink myself, along with my belongings. However, before I invoke the spell, I need a suitable place to hide.”

  She looked around the room, eyeing my nightstand and dresser.

  “How about the attic?” I suggested. “Uncle Adrian once proposed using a spell like that, for Uncle Manuel and him to convert the attic into a resort spa, soon after they joined the rest of my family here in Denmark.”

  I pointed to my closet, where the attic entrance was located.

  “Sounds nice... but by tomorrow, I’d surely be found—even if I didn’t create a mini-hot tub and pool,” she laughed, but I could hear the worry in her tone. Her gaze returned to my dresser.

  I sensed the urgency in finding what she needed quickly, and was about to begin opening drawers and removing socks, underwear, etc., when I glanced across the room to where an enormous armoire sat. A stately French provincial piece from the early nineteenth century, it would make fans of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia envious. My mother had wanted to use it for storing antique dolls she had started collecting after being introduced to this hobby by Meredith Mays. She purchased the armoire during my absence, and apparently it had spent time in various locations in the house until it ended up in my room.

  I suddenly remembered a small compartment inside the piece that I’d discovered just a week earlier.

  Yes, it could work for a near-foolproof hideout!

  “Hey, what about this option?” I suggested, quietly moving over to the armoire and opening the door on the left side. I slid aside my favorite trench coat to reveal a shoebox-sized compartment in the far-left corner. The compartment came with a sliding door and latch. “Could this work?”

  I opened the compartment to reveal a barren area roughly ten inches tall and sixteen inches wide with a depth of about six inches.

  “Yes, that’s perfect!” she enthused, and moved to pick up her knapsack.

  She joined me next to the armoire, quietly reciting the incantation, whispering the words she had obviously committed to memory from Wizard Gabon. I noticed that Viviane had drifted to her side, and an instant later, Daciana, her wand, knapsack, and the broomstick rapidly shrunk to the size of a Barbie doll and accessories.

  I tried not to laugh as she excitedly related her elation in a Minnie Mouse voice that the spell worked. Then, she jumped up into the armoire and scurried toward the open compartment.

  A sudden knock on my bedroom door jolted me from watching Daciana explore her new hideout, leaving me to glimpse the soft emerald glow from her wand as she closed the compartment’s door swiftly. I partially shut the armoire door, not wanting to leave her in complete darkness after noticing the wand’s glow abruptly disappeared.

  “Bas... are you okay in there?” Grandma called to me.

  I could hear suspicion in her voice, something long familiar to me whenever she’d find me up to mischief.

  “Can we come in?” Mom asked from beside her.

  “Sure,” I said, hoping I sounded bored. I closed the armoire door a little more.

  Unlike earlier that evening, they tentatively opened the bedroom door before stepping inside my room.

  “What’s up?” I asked, watching the pair separate from each other like seasoned police detectives. Grandma immediately headed for the towel lying next to the dresser, while Mom moved over to the armoire. “Sorry about leaving the towel there on the floor. Like an idiot, I opened the window for a moment to let some fresh air in here, and a blast of rain came inside instead.”

  I pointed to the other towel, lying crumpled and still sopping wet beneath the window where Daciana had entered my bedroom.

  “You needed two towels?” Grandma asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “At least one isn’t as wet as the other,” I quipped, adding an ornery grin while glancing at Mom, who had pulled the armoire’s left side door fully open, and appeared ready to open the other door as well. “I captured most of the water with the first towel.”

  Mom peered inside the armoire, while Grandma stooped down to peer under my bed.

  “Looking for a boogeyman?” I chuckled. “They’re all out there, still circling this house like Oglala Sioux warriors at the Little Big Horn.” I absently pointed behind me, toward the corner of Old Dominion and Chaffin’s Bend.

  My mother shut the armoire doors as my grandmother stood up. They traded perplexed looks while ignoring my jokes.

  “You should’ve brought these down once you finished wiping up the rainwater, Bas,” Grandma chided. “It’s not good to leave them on wooden floors approaching two hundred years in age.”

  “Sorry... I’ll be more careful going forward.”

  “Did you get enough to eat earlier tonight?” Mom asked, lightly sniffing the room.

  Ah, dammit! Does she smell the presence of a Matei female inside my bedroom?

  At least no perfume lingered in the air. If anything, they might notice steam residue coming from the bathroom. But unless they got close to me physically, they should assume I took an extra shower. Not entirely unusual, although a bit unlikely for me since we weren’t experiencing the dog days of summer.

  “Yeah... I’m fine,” I said. “In fact, I’m thinking of shutting down earlier than usual tonight. It’s been a challenging day.”

  “It will get easier, Sebastian,” said Grandma, as she headed toward the door. She and Mom again traded curious looks that told me they were conversing silently about me in my presence.

  Now, there’s the bullshit I detest most!

  “We love you, son... sweet dreams.” Mom blew me a kiss as she closed my bedroom door behind her and Grandma, and then they left me in peace.

  I waited a good ten minutes before checking on Daciana, instead intently listening for any signs of additional ‘room invasions’ on the immediate horizon. Once satisfied it was safe to reopen the armoire, I gently opened the door.

  Daciana sat in a tiny porch rocker she had created, perched near the cracked opening to her new accommodations. A brilliant emerald glow emanated from inside the compartment behind her, and she gently rocked back and forth while looking up at me.

  “That was close,” she said. “Almost too close
for comfort... glad you thought of this option.”

  I made a silent promise to not make any jokes about her high-pitched voice, nor to laugh about it either.

  “It’s okay—I’d laugh too!” she said.

  “I’m sorry... but at least you now have the perfect hideout, eh?” I smiled lovingly, as I kneeled toward her. “I like what you’ve done to the place.” I pointed to her chair.

  “Thanks... I’m just getting started with the decorative phase. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!”

  She laughed and I chuckled with her.

  “So, when will you be normal-sized again?” I asked. “I mean, I’d like to hug you and share a ‘goodnight’ kiss.”

  “We’ll have to settle for blowing kisses, like what Silvia gave you a moment ago, my love,” she said. “Remember... I can only be restored once to my normal self, since that’s the limit for the incantation Sorin provided me. When I’m full-size again, I won’t be able to shrink anymore.”

  “Oh.” I couldn’t hide my disappointment, although I understood there wasn’t any way to prevent our present situation. In all likelihood, had she waited to invoke the spell, Daciana would’ve been discovered inside my bedroom.

  “Don’t be sad, Bas,” she said. “Once we’ve reached Sorin’s safe haven, things will be different. We’ll finally be together permanently.”

  “I know. I love you, Daci.”

  After exchanging our ‘blown’ kisses, I closed the armoire door per our mutual agreement it was best, safer, this way. Then I shut down my video game system and readied myself for bed.

  Admittedly, it proved difficult to fall asleep that night. I tried to focus on Daciana’s last words to me, and ignore the hostile army of warlocks and witches keeping watch upon my home.

  An even bigger army is on the way.... One that will likely be infused with even angrier warlocks and witches from abroad, upon confirming Daciana’s escape from Europe!

  “Just one more day,” I whispered into my bedroom’s darkness as I lay in bed. “One more day to sweet freedom.”

  A mantra of hope... or desperation?

  We would soon find out.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ever fearful of something going wrong during the night, I literally slept with one eye open.

  Well, maybe not quite like that until dawn’s arrival Sunday morning, but pretty damn close.

  During the night, I admittedly checked on Daciana several times. In truth, it would’ve been more, if I hadn’t worried about invading her privacy.

  I didn’t venture any further than gently opening the armoire door nearest her hideout, drawing comfort from the soft green glow emanating through the small cracks surrounding the compartment’s closed sliding door. After the third attempt, I felt a bit embarrassed—realizing she had likely set her wand to emit a glow bright enough for my benefit, without defeating her own efforts to recover from her long journey from Romania to Tennessee.

  Still, I had to look once more, just after 4:00 a.m. Of course, the glow remained the same. The entrance to my bedroom also hadn’t been breached, and I confess to using a harmless spell of a protective mist hovering just inside the threshold. Had anyone crossed it, in order to check on me or investigate my room more thoroughly than my mother and grandmother had earlier that night, I would know.

  Sorry, my love... just wanna make sure you’re okay, I silently told Daciana, before gently shutting the armoire door and returning to my bed.

  From that moment until Max’s anticipated screech, I laid awake with my hands behind my head, as if lounging on a hammock beneath our immense wraparound porch during a pleasant spring afternoon. One might believe, I guess, that I lay there picturing an unencumbered life with my beloved ‘Daci’.

  In actuality, it was my intent.... However, a dream featuring my Uncle Manuel from earlier that night took precedent. An interesting but troubling nocturnal experience, I might add. Not because it was terrifying, with a rehashing of the severe consequences I could face for harboring Daciana inside my bedroom. Rather, it was more about the long-term effect my choosing her as my bride could have upon our family.

  “Sebastian... I’m not trying to dissuade you from pursuing Daciana,” Manuel advised, which surprised me, given the near universal aversion to the idea within my family. “In all honesty, those of us with foresight ‘see’ the two of you likely ending up together—including Adrian, who won’t speak of it, since it’s something he strongly detests. Same for Ma—your grandma. Odds are that Meredith Mays and Matilda Albright see the same thing we do.”

  In the dream, Manuel and I stood beneath a massive willow tree at the edge of our property. A soft, warm breeze moved through the branches that were largely bereft of foliage—as if it might be an actual Denmarkian sunny afternoon in early autumn.

  “But, offering assurance of your union with Daciana as a viable thing is not why I’m visiting with you this way,” he continued, pausing to brush his hand across his closely cropped dark hair, as if a tiny stray leaf, or bug, had landed there. “While I doubt anything can turn sour between you and her on its own, it would be foolish to assume her family will give up the fight to dissuade Daciana from staying with you.”

  “What do you mean? You know she’s here in Denmark, right?” I said, suddenly alarmed that I readily gave up a secret I would die to protect if awake.

  He chuckled. “Yes, I know she’s arrived already. Adrian isn’t as sure, and has been watching Twin Magnolias for her to attempt to breach the shield placed there by Attila von Stroheim. My brother often mistakes my quietness to mean I feel the same way as him. Or, that I am ashamed to speak my mind, since he is far more learned than me—same for your dad.”

  Unsure if Manuel realized Daciana had not only made it to Denmark, but at present was hidden inside my bedroom’s armoire, I vowed to keep that latter fact secret—even if it meant forcing myself awake. Meanwhile, he looked past me toward the mansion, sitting nearly two acres away. I followed my uncle’s gaze, lingering on the massive walnuts, maples, and pecan trees dominating our backyard’s park-like setting.

  “They both often fail to see what I see,” he continued, returning his attention to me. There was sorrow within his countenance, as a viridian hue shadowed his normally soft emerald eyes. “Sebrina wasn’t always so difficult to love. In fact, when I first courted her in Croatia, things were wonderful. Even Adrian enjoyed her presence.... But she lacks the natural ‘special’ gifts the EEC prefers when approving mortals to eventually participate in our sacred ceremony, naștere la întuneric.”

  “So, she is deemed unsuitable as a lifetime mate,” I said, picturing what he was getting at. “And, despite Daciana already sharing our level of immortality, you believe her family will strive to make our union just as unsuitable?”

  Hard to say what one’s own facial expression looks like in a dream. But Manuel’s somber response told me that the look I gave him was either one of dismay or incredulity.

  “Maybe,” he said. “And, perhaps you two can prove more resilient than my once lovely bride has turned out to be. Sebrina’s bitterness is heartbreaking.... You and Daciana have the potential to be truly formidable, if you cling to each other. But I foresee the potential to also end up as another sad mess like my wife and me, should you allow the Mateis to snake their soulless tentacles into Daciana’s heart and mind.”

  “Doesn’t that include Radus too?” I asked, looking for a fair and balanced assessment of the opposition she and I could face once we emerge from whatever haven Wizard Gabon had prepared. Provided things don’t turn to shit before twelve o’clock tonight!

  “Yes, there are Radus to be wary of, as well. But it’s a handful of miscreants in comparison to whole communities amongst the Mateis.”

  “Why?” I persisted.

  “Because they know who you are, Bas,” he said, casting a wary glance behind him, as if this were a secret shared with dire consequences. “Worse, they know what you and Daciana could soon become, and they are loath to acc
ept it!”

  “What... the prophesized king and queen to heal the hatred and then jointly rule our families?”

  He confirmed this with a nod, before casting another wary glance over his shoulder.

  “Gotta go, nephew. They’re coming, and like Adrian and me, they know she’s here, somewhere in Denmark. They’ll figure out everything soon enough. So, don’t linger beyond what’s prudent, Sebastian. I’m pulling for you both!”

  I wanted to discuss more with Manuel—my father’s youngest brother, whom I hadn’t had much contact with since he and Adrian rejoined my family from Europe the summer before last—just weeks after our arrival in Tennessee. However, as I sought to press him on what he meant by his cryptic closing, the warm breeze rapidly dropped in temperature until it carried an icy chill. At the same time, the image of my uncle began to fade,

  At first, I thought it was him shrinking and disintegrating. But then loose strands from my ponytail whipped violently across my face, and I realized I was being pulled backward swiftly. I awoke with a start, shivering atop my bedcovers....

  Upon reflecting on the experience, it increasingly felt imagined. A subconscious drama that was nothing more than the consequence of ingesting homemade pizzas the night before. Or, maybe it was the homemade sarsaparilla soda given to us by the Crawfords the other day, of which I drank two large glasses at dinner. Perhaps it was both of these things coupled with the reality that Daciana Matei had fulfilled her promise to come to me—despite one third of the world’s entire warlock/witch population in hostile pursuit!

  Before long, the day’s first light seeped into my bedroom. I prepared to hear a light thud erupt from within the armoire upon Mad Max’s shrill announcement proclaiming Sunday, September 27th, 2020 had officially begun. But the stately furniture piece remained enveloped in stillness despite the rooster’s greeting, just as it had since my blowing kisses to a miniaturized Daciana roughly eight hours earlier.

  Before checking on her, with the intention of pulling open the concealed compartment, I peered through the plantation blinds behind my bed. Half-expecting the legions of witches and warlocks to no longer be there, I felt a deepening sense of dread to see a much bigger crowd gathered in the street. The fact that a mere handful of ‘broom-riders’ continued to circle the protective crystal dome brought little comfort.

 

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