Jingle Spells

by CyberWitch Press

  He jumps from the bed as if I’d burned him and holds out his hand, trying to keep me away. “You didn’t say you were a witch.”

  “It’s fine. Just tell me you’re a fairy, and we can brush this away. It will only take a few minutes, and I’ll be cleared from your memory. There’s no need to bring your mother into this.”

  The last thing we need is a mother to be involved in all of this. My own mother is usually fairly laid back; she doesn’t put up with any nonsense, but she tends to be more supportive than others. Of course with the holidays approaching, it will be harder to hide my error.

  There’s a simple potion that can fix this, and I have all the ingredients at my house. I will just bring a dose back around for him, and by tonight, he will have forgotten I was here. That doesn’t really help me; I will still remember him, but he won’t seek me out again.

  “Why do you keep asking if I’m a fairy?” He’s standing naked beside the bed, and I’m reminded exactly why I came home with him last night.

  There was no indication he was a fairy when we met. I would have stayed clear of him had I known. Well, I think I would have tried to stay clear, but there is just something about this man. At the very least, I would have left in the darkness of night. If he is the alternative, and he is in fact a wizard, I’m not sure a potion will clear this up.

  Through the door, the girl is still calling out what seems to be random thoughts or questions. I’m still not sure who she is exactly. She didn’t sleep in here last night so maybe she isn’t a girlfriend.

  He doesn’t seem to be listening to her either, until she bangs on the door and yells, “Shoes!”

  I’m still clutching the sheet to my chest. I haven’t even gotten my clothes on yet. It can’t be time to put on my shoes. That is, unless she’s yelling “shoes” for some other reason that isn’t obvious to me.

  He has his boxers pulled in place. “You seem like a nice girl, Arwen.” It feels like he’s trying to distract me. He moves things around on the floor like he’s looking for something. His shoulders relax, but he doesn’t seem to have found what he needed.

  Then I remember the stories. The shoes. First, they lure you in, and then before you know it, you can’t resist them or the shoes. This can’t happen to me. I will be ruined.

  Dropping the sheet, I begin to search the floor as well. I’ve never gone looking for something in the hopes of not finding it. It’s a fruitless activity.

  As he moves around, he begins to toss my clothes on the blankets. I move to get out of bed, but he calls out to me, “Stay on the bed. I haven’t finished checking yet.”

  “Why?” It would be easier to get out of bed to get dressed; he’s really making no sense right now. “What are you looking for?” I pull my dress over my head and stand on the mattress, waiting for him to “finish checking.”

  He lets out a sigh, and then yells over his shoulder, “False alarm, Meri. There’s nothing here.”

  He hasn’t yet answered me, but I know for sure he’s not a fairy. Since he didn’t find shoes on the floor, he must not be a wizard either. I don’t know what that makes him. I’m ready to ask for my shoes; I kicked them off somewhere last night, but they might not be in this room.

  Through the door, I hear the girl named Meri say, “They’re on her side.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Brogan

  It’s a stupid mistake to have brought her here last night. The usual plan works, and I end up at their place. That way when we finish, I can leave. There was something about this girl that made me change all the rules, and now I’m going to pay for my mistake.

  She didn’t let me get much sleep last night, and it seems too early to get up yet. She’s moving around a lot. I try pulling her closer in the hope she will go back to sleep. The mumbling is annoying this early in the morning, but the screeching is too much. She has my full attention, until I move away from her to see the feathers scattered around the room.

  Occupational hazard is what this is. Settling in and pretending to fall back asleep is the only way I can get a minute to think about this. The feathers scattered around the room are going to be hard to explain; levitating feathers are a step too far.

  It seems that the women in my life are determined to make this the worst morning for me. As if she was summoned, my sister makes her presence known. I may have forgotten to mention last night that I live with my sister.

  Unlike most people, my sister, Meri, doesn’t have any boundaries. She’s always willing to offer up her opinion, even when it’s clearly not needed or wanted. This morning doesn’t seem to be any different. I needed a minute to collect my thoughts after Arwen screamed, but my time is cut short as my sister bursts through the door. Its takes me a few tries, but I have managed to keep her physically out of my room, unless I invite her in of course. If I could also keep her voice out, my life would be so much easier.

  My only explanation is that a long night with Arwen has worn down my senses; it feels like I’ve been up all night casting spells. From the look of the place, I was up all night casting spells, as the feathers from my bedding dance through the air.

  I quickly sit up, and a face full of feathers hits me as they begin to fall. It’s strange that the feathers would fall randomly. Normally, they should return to where they came from. Unless this isn’t my doing, which only means that Meri must have done this.

  Tired of her antics, and without thinking of the consequences, I shout at her as she stands in the doorway. “What did you do?”

  She leans on the door frame with a smug look on her face, as if she knows something and doesn’t want to share. She doesn’t hesitate to taunt me. “This is all you. You must have found yourself a little wi-itch last night.”

  Hearing Meri call Arwen a witch gets my attention. The winter solstice is in just a few days, and this is the time of year to avoid the witch collective. The stories I’ve heard over the years are enough incentive for me to keep my distance, but this time of year is particularly tricky.

  Looking her over, I can’t see any of the usual signs to signal she’s a witch. Even last night, she didn’t dress like a witch, and she was alone. Well, except that couple she was with. Witches never go out alone; they always have someone from their coven with them. I scan my gaze over her, but I still can’t see any sign that she is, in fact, a witch. Maybe Meri has an ulterior motive.

  As a last resort, I run my finger along Arwen’s arm to find a sign that she is a witch. She seems unaffected by me until, finally, she can’t seem to hold herself together, and she shivers at my touch. I want that to be my confirmation, but then she sways towards me, as if we are pulled together. That still doesn’t prove anything; it could be just a reaction to me.

  Wrapping my fingers around her arm, I expect something to happen. The feel of her skin under my fingers brings a calming to my very soul. It’s unsettling, but it makes me want to pull her closer. I pull my gaze from her to look back at Meri standing in the doorway, and see the feathers have started to once again ascend.

  Releasing her is harder than I want it to be. I need to mend things before someone else notices, so I resolve to fix this. She has already seen too much. I mutter quietly so the feathers will go back to where they belong.

  The feathers should be easy enough for me. From the doorway, my sister is projecting her thoughts on me. She obviously doesn’t approve of Arwen being here. Her biggest fear is echoing through her thoughts. She’s afraid to lose me. She should know better than anyone that there is no chance of me settling down with anyone, especially a witch.

  Meri is finally able to vocalize her thoughts, but they come out as a simple question. “Why is she here?”

  Needing space, I point to the door and it closes quickly, leaving Meri out of my room. She no longer holds back and calls out through the door. She’s wrong, but she will see that later.

  With no other option, I take Arwen’s hand, once again setting the feathers on the right course. A swirl of activity and the feather
s have started to return where they belong.

  She must finally realize what’s happening around her, and she pulls her hand away. The last of the feathers fall around the room. It’s enough; I can fix this later.

  Arwen breaks her silence, offering up insults, even after the night we have spent together.

  “How do you do this? You must be a fairy! Tell me you are a fairy.”

  “What do you know about fairies? Where did you say you’re from?”

  Looking around the room, I survey any other damage that our night may have caused. The feathers are a sign. I know what they mean, but nothing else seems out of place. She must not be studying her craft or there would be other consequences. Maybe that’s why I didn’t notice it; she must be an inactive witch. Of course that would explain everything.

  “Are you inactive? Do you know the power you possess?”

  She doesn’t seem to be willing to answer any of my questions. Surely if she knows of fairies, she should have some idea of her own powers.

  “Are you alone? Do you have others like you?”

  Something about her makes me want to protect her. The last thing I need is a coven to come and find me. If she doesn’t have one, then she might need my protection. I could offer that to her, if I could just figure out what it is about her.

  As if Meri’s voice could get any louder through the door, my sister gives out a final ultimatum. “You did it this time. Mother is on her way. Get that witch out of here!”

  Cursing as I realize the truth, I jump from the bed and back away from her. “You didn’t say you were a witch.”

  “It’s fine. Just tell me you’re a fairy, and we can brush this away. It will only take a few minutes, and I will be cleared from your memory. There’s no need to bring your mother into this.”

  It’s almost as if she knows my mother. If she thinks she can brush me from her thoughts, she must be a practicing witch. So much for her being inactive. I really stepped in it this time. There is nothing that can brush or erase her from my memory. The best I could hope for is to remember her as the one that got away, but nothing ever seems to go the way I want.

  She starts asking about me being a fairy, and I’ve finally had enough. “Why do you keep asking if I’m a fairy?”

  Listening to Meri is distracting me from the witch still in my bed. I have no idea how long we have, but I need to get this girl out of here before my mother arrives. Knowing that she doesn’t have my attention, Meri bangs on the door three times and calls out, “Shoes!”

  I look down again, but I don’t see anything. Stepping into my boxers, I pick up random pieces of clothes and throw them on the bed. If there are shoes here, I have to find them before she gets out of the bed. Maybe if I take them out of the room, we can escape and go our own ways.

  I sift through my room, but I can’t find the shoes. They must not be here. But then why would my mother be on her way? Arwen gives up the sheet to look around the floor, as well. She must know about the shoes, too.

  “Stay on the bed. I haven’t finished checking yet.”

  They are here. I know they are here. There must be a way to undo the curse, and I will find it.

  “Why? What are you looking for?”

  Looking up, I see she’s putting her clothes on. That’s good; she’s one step closer to leaving.

  Relief takes over, and I call out, “False alarm, Meri. There’s nothing here.”

  Arwen pulls her dress down as she steps off the bed. We’re safe, and I can hurry her out the door, hopefully before my mother arrives. I should offer to help but instead I watch as she struggles with the zipper on the dress. I reach for my pants, as I hear Meri call through the door, “They’re on her side.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Arwen

  Everything is going wrong today. My car is still at the club from last night, and I’m late for my coven meeting. After the worst one-night stand in history, I barely had enough cash for a taxi. I exited the car as the driver was yelling at me. I thought I remembered to get gas yesterday, but of course I didn’t, so I had to stop and get gas before I finally got home this morning.

  If I could just get Tillie to answer her phone, she would know I’m going to be late. Even after unlocking the door, it won’t open. I use my shoulder to push at it. Muttering under my breath, I fall through the doorway and land sprawled out in the entrance.

  I shake off my coat and purse. My black cat, Ebone, comes to inspect me. She doesn’t usually offer me any attention if I’ve been out all night; she prefers to stay cuddled up in my bed without me. Like the rest of my day, nothing is as it should be, and she chooses today to hiss at me.

  “Ebone!” I bend forward to scratch her ears, but she pulls away, hissing again.

  I can’t smell that bad. Even after I come home from the gym, she doesn’t hiss at me. I can’t smell any worse today.

  The kitchen clock begins to chime and I’m reminded again that the meeting is starting. I run up the stairs to shower as I count out each chime.

  One. Two. Three. Four.

  I gasp for breath as I pull more clothes from my body.

  Five. Six.

  Turning on the water, I can hear another chime. Seven.

  Leaving the water on cold will make me hurry faster. Eight.

  Soap is everywhere, and I’m scrubbing as I try to rinse and hear the final chime to signal the hour. Nine.

  I’ve always been a morning person, so this is the first time I’ve ever been late for a meeting. I plug in my phone and hair appliances at the same time. I send another text to Tillie, but there’s still no response from her. She can’t be upset that I went out without her last night; she had other plans. She did warn me not to go alone, but I was with my cousin. That should have counted for something.

  Replaying everything that has happened in the last twelve hours, I desperately shake my hair dryer over my long hair. My best friend, Tillie, couldn’t go out last night, and so I met my cousin, Tierry, and her new husband, Mark. We went to Club Zdrasti. It wasn’t my first choice, but it was busy for a Thursday night.

  Brogan was at the bar and offered to buy me a drink. Did I accept his drink? I’m not even sure, but I did drink it. We talked until his friend arrived; I needed to get back to my friends, anyway.

  As I sat watching my cousin dance, Brogan approached me again. It wasn’t unusual not to know his name. It’s easier not to ask someone their name, as I gave up trying to remember them long ago. Only people I see frequently do I even try to remember their names; a random guy on a night out doesn’t count.

  It feels like my body is on automatic as I get ready for the day. Brogan invades my thoughts and doesn’t want me to move past him. Meeting him seemed so casual, accidental even. Leaving him this morning was anything but casual. I would have chosen to stay with him all day. Well, except I was supposed to be at my coven meeting.

  Then, too, there was his sister. She was not pleasant. When she barged into his room, she started yelling. Even after he closed the door on her, she continued to yell. Of course, if it wasn’t for her, I might have missed the shoes by the bed. It was strange at first to see the shoes there, set perfectly as if I would get out of bed and step right into them. They really were beautiful. They sparkled green in the early morning light. The sparkle was enough to get my attention, but the detail on the sole, a thick black sole with a jagged design for the heel. The shoes were so impractical. Well, I would probably break my neck wearing them.

  The real low point was the fact that my own shoes couldn’t be found. I had shoes last night; I thought I still had them when we got to his place. Looking for them this morning was taking too much time, and then their mother arrived. She wasn’t pleased to see me, and I knew I had to leave. When Meri started explaining things to her, I slipped out the door, without any shoes. I didn’t look back to see if they noticed. I was just grateful to have escaped.

  My phone lights up with a new message. I check, hoping its Tillie finally getting back to me. My luc
k doesn’t seem to be changing, as it’s just my mother reminding me we are making holiday cookies today.

  Giving up on Tillie, I gather my things to meet with her and the rest of our coven. She needs to check her phone more often; I hope she didn’t leave it at home today. Deep in thought, I miss the light changing until the car behind me blows their horn. I can see the driver waving his arms in my rear mirror; he’s probably yelling at me, too.

  I pull into the old parking lot but don’t see anyone’s car here today. They couldn’t have finished this early. The empty lot allows me to park close to the door. I pull my bag from the backseat and flip through my keys just in case the door is locked. It looks dark inside; I pull on the door, but it doesn’t open.

  After multiple failed attempts to use my key, I do the only thing left. I pound on the door hoping someone will open it.

  A cold wind blows, I see something move behind me. I jump, expecting someone to be there. The only thing I see is some paper that hops along the sidewalk, letting the wind control it.

  Great. Just great. Now I’m seeing things. It feels like someone is watching me. I look at the door, but there’s still no one there. Surveying the deserted parking lot one more time, I sigh, giving up.

  I feel unsettled. I decide that getting to my mother’s early may help turn this day around. Usually a cup of tea with her and some of her advice is enough to set me right. This is the first time I’ve missed breakfast with the other girls, and something is leaving me feel off- kilter about this. My stomach grumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten. That must be my problem — hunger.

  Even though there’s space in the driveway, I still park on the street. It’s impossible to predict if anyone else will show up, and I hate to be stuck here if too many of my mother’s friends stop over. They mean well, but they don’t always offer me the advice that’s right for me. Too often, they try to persuade me to do the things their own children are doing, or in some cases, they try to play match-maker with me. Even my own mother understands my choice to find my own partner. When the time is right, I will find him.