Siphon Magic

by Alicia Fabel

  “That’s a lot of corn. Is this one of those places where the people starve to feed the monarch?” Vera asked.

  “Magic ensures healthy crops and abundant harvests. Laws ensure everyone contributes, and no one starves. Famine and poverty do not exist here.”

  “Wow, sounds like a real utopia,” Vera said.

  Kale squinted an eye and bobbled his head a little side-to-side. “It’s not as idyllic as they’d like to believe.” Kale stood. “Let’s go. We need to visit someone before the Coven sends witches out to look for us. The Maiden will have felt the ripple of our arrival and be expecting us to appear soon. With a good explanation as to why we’re in Summartir.”

  Kale headed deeper into the woods. Vera didn’t follow immediately.

  “This mysterious person we’ve got to go see seriously lives in there?” Vera asked unhappily.

  “No, but that’s where she’ll be waiting for us.”

  Vera grudgingly trailed after the man and was rewarded with a spider web to the face. She let out the tiniest squeak, batting away the webbing, and shook out her hair. Kale spun around looking for the threat and scowled when he realized what was happening. Screw you, buddy. There’s no telling what kind of spiders they have in this place.

  “Do you see any spiders in my hair?” Vera asked.

  “No.”

  “You didn’t even look.”

  “We need to hurry. The weaver doesn’t like to stay in one place for very long.” Kale walked away without making sure Vera was behind him.

  Vera gestured rudely at the man’s retreating back and patted her hair one last time before chasing after him.

  “Anything else I should know about this woman?” Vera asked after a few minutes.

  “She’s a witch, and she’s not as patient as I am. So be careful what you say around her.”

  If that was true, it might be best to skip meeting the lady altogether. The farther they went into the forest, the higher the tree roots arched out of the ground, like pulled stitches. Vera made sure she didn’t hook a foot in one and fall on her face.

  “I’m kind of surprised these people don’t guard their gate better.”

  “Some realms do guard them. Other realms positioned their gates in such dangerous places that no one would willingly go through their gate. A few, like Summartir, magicked their gates so the most powerful people know when someone shows up, and there’s no hiding from them at that point.”

  “And Earth?”

  “Sealed closed and placed somewhere humans would not likely wander.”

  Vera snorted. “Yeah, that worked well.” She didn’t realize Kale had stopped until she bounced off him.

  “We’re here.” Kale grabbed her before she fell. “Don’t freak out, okay? You are safe.”

  Well, that sounded positively terrifying. Kale reached toward Vera’s face, and she dodged to the side.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  Kale was faster than Vera. He plucked something from her hair. It looked like a wingless, eight-legged bumblebee. A hint of a smile tipped one side of his mouth when Vera gasped and started shaking out her hair again. He deposited the spider on a branch above his head.

  “Kalesius! And you brought a friend,” called a smoky woman’s voice. “You’ve never brought a friend before. She must be someone special.”

  The old woman who spoke was tall and lean with a multitude of white braids trailing down her back. Leaves and twigs stuck out between the plaits of hair, and bits of dirt clung to her bare feet. That’s where the witch’s naturalist vibe ended, though. She had on rainbow zebra-print leggings and a pink tee-shirt with a sun-glasses-wearing porcupine printed on it. Around the witch’s neck hung a thick, yellow rope necklace. She stood on the steps of a purple Victorian house with yellow gingerbread molding. Vera hadn’t even noticed the house before, which was impossible since it towered over them. In fact, Vera was sure that spot had been covered in trees a minute ago. The witch assessed Vera and gave a big toothy smile.

  “Well, look at you. I think I was right about you after all,” said the witch.

  Vera frowned. Kale bumped her before she could ask what that was supposed to mean.

  “My name is Marianna. Welcome to my home. Come in, come in.” Mariana waved them in before disappearing through the front door, which she left open for them.

  “This is a pretty impressive house for someone who doesn’t like to stay in one place for long,” Vera mumbled, reminding Kale of his earlier assessment of Marianna. She hadn’t even picked up on his boloney that time. If Vera lost her lie-detecting in this place, she was going to be pissed.

  Kale shushed her with a sharp look. Just then, the entire house shuttered and groaned. Vera grabbed the railing to keep from falling over.

  Inside, Mariana yelled, “Knock it off! We’ll leave when I say we leave!”

  The answering reply was a chorus of hisses which emanated from the foundation of the house itself.

  “The house moves,” said Vera.

  “Nice deduction.” Kale smirked.

  Okay, so Kale hadn’t lied after all. The truth just happened to be completely outrageous. A whole big house of nope. Vera did an about-face, planning to skip right back down the steps and away from the possessed structure but skidded to a stop. Cats surrounded them. Hundreds of cats. Orange, black, gray, white, spotted, striped, mottled, fuzzy, fat, skinny, and even naked cats. Vera had never seen so many different kinds of cats in one place. They ringed the house, standing shoulder to shoulder, ruffs spiked and teeth bared. Vera did another one-eighty and hurried inside, urging Kale to close the door quickly behind her.

  The inside of the house was like a library. It even smelled beautifully musty like one. But rather than books, the wall-to-wall shelving held neat piles of fabric. Marianna had not organized the fabric by color, or in any way that Vera could discern. Vera trailed her fingers across the various textures of cloth in awe as Kale led her through the maze of shelves to another room. The walls of this room were lined floor-to-ceiling too, but the center of the room was open and filled with living room furniture. Additional bolts of fabric littered the floral sofa, but otherwise, everything was clean and impressively dust-free. An arched doorway to Vera’s right framed yet another room. This one filled by a massive loom. A partially-finished piece of cloth stretched between the supports. There were cats in there too. They batted around bits of yarn and lounged in the windowsills.

  Kale scooped the fabric off the sofa and stacked it with some other bolts already leaning against a rolling ladder, which stretched all the way up to the abnormally-high ceiling. He settled in the cleared space and patted the cushion beside him. Vera sat stiffly and fidgeted with her sleeve.

  “You look hungry, dear.” Mariana entered the room, carrying a tray of teacups and cookies—suspiciously-brown cookies.

  “Are those gingerbread cookies?” The question tumbled out before Vera could reconsider.

  Mariana’s smile dimmed. Kale cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It’s not like Vera had intended to be rude, she’d just been surprised was all. In her world, accepting gingerbread from a witch was generally a bad idea. Vera held her breath while Mariana studied her closely. Suddenly, the witch started laughing, a full-bellied laugh. Soon, there were tears on her weathered cheeks too. The witch plopped into the blue-and-white-striped armchair opposite the sofa and set the tray on the table between them.

  “Ahhh. You are delightful,” said Marianna. “Isn’t she, Kalesius?”

  “Always,” Kale lied.

  Vera’s lie-detecting superpower was definitely still working.

  “I see you are familiar with some Coven lore which has survived the generations in your realm,” said Marianna. “You need not be distressed, though. These are brown-sugar cookies. I do love a nice gingerbread cookie sometimes, but I would not eat you. I’m not that kind of witch.”

  “I didn’t mean any offense.” Wait, did that mean there was a kind of witch that di
d eat people?

  “Oh, I know, dear. And you have caused none.” Mariana giggled a bit more. “You have caused me a lot of curiosity, though. What exactly are you? Kalesius has not shared this with me yet.”

  “Oh, uh.” Vera looked to Kale for direction.

  “Vera is a siphon,” said Kale, surprising Vera by revealing her secret so easily.

  “Is that so?” The witch cocked her head to the side. “I haven’t met a siphon in a very long time. Now that you mention it, I do see the resemblance. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I believe it is illegal for a human to cross the barrier from their realm. If you are siphon, you were human once. The guardian would have been duty-bound to execute you immediately after you left your realm. You would not be sitting in my living room right now having tea. Do have some tea, dear,” Mariana picked up a teacup with green vines painted on it and handed it to Vera.

  Vera took it reflexively, but all her attention zeroed in on Kale. She already knew he’d been lying his butt off when they first met, when he’d told her she was safe. Her heart stuttered now with the understanding of how much danger she’d been in. All the while, Kale opened his mouth to protest, closed it, and then tried again.

  “It’s not…I don’t . . .” he tried.

  Mariana waved off his efforts.

  “Don’t worry about him, dear,” Marianna said to Vera. “If the Guardian was going to kill you, he would have done so already. I’m afraid that chance has come and passed. No going back now that he’s your protector. What great luck you have. Drink your tea. It’s getting cold.”

  Vera stared blankly at the yellow-tinged liquid until Mariana cleared her throat. She took a polite sip to appease the witch. It was bitter and sweet. Not awful, but not great either. One more sip out of good manners and Vera returned the cup to the tray. That was all Vera’s pitching stomach could handle. Mariana gathered a clay bowl from the side table into the crook of her arm, cradling it like a bowl of popcorn, and watched Vera like she was the entertainment. The witch popped something from the bowl into her mouth and chewed it up. Vera squirmed under Marianna’s scrutiny.

  “Want one?” Mariana offered, extending the bowl filled with acorns toward Vera.

  Vera shook her head with a side-long glance at Kale. His face revealed nothing of what he thought.

  “No thank you. I’m not hungry,” Vera said.

  “Too bad. You’d like them, I think,” Marianna replied.

  Mariana popped a third or fourth nut into her mouth, shell and all, and then set the bowl aside. She stood abruptly, brushing acorn fibers from her chest. At the same time, Kale went to pick up a teacup. The witch smacked his hand away.

  “You wouldn’t like that,” Marianna told him. “It’s cold now anyway.”

  Kale narrowed his eyes at their host but didn’t argue. He also didn’t relax back into the seat after that. Vera was getting twitchy from the undercurrents in the room. Mariana padded over to the ladder and rolled it along its track to a set of shelves. The pile of fabric which had been leaning against it toppled over onto the floor. Mariana didn’t seem concerned about it. She began climbing, pausing at every shelf to ruffle through the fabric until she found what she was looking for on the tenth one up, three down from the ceiling.

  “Ah ha. I knew it was here,” Marianna proclaimed.

  A moment later, Marianna presented Vera with a wooden box, inlaid with a sun made from various stones. Even with one of the sun’s rays missing, it was stunning. Vera wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  “Well open it,” instructed Marianna.

  Inside was a silver chain with a black tear-shaped stone dangling from it. The stone shone like polished glass. Freed from the box, it sparkled like a starry sky.

  “It’s incredible,” said Vera.

  “It is yours,” said Marianna

  “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  “Shh. Do not argue with me, dear. It is yours. It always has been. The box is yours too, but I will keep it safe until you need it.” Mariana snagged the wooden box and tucked it away on a different shelf. “That charm is a cloak. As long as you wear it, no one will know what you are.”

  “What will they think I am?”

  “I’m not sure. Isn’t that exciting?”

  “Weaver,” said Kale.

  “Watch yourself, Guardian. You are in my home.”

  Mariana’s eyes flashed, her fingertips crackled with angry lightening babies. Well, that escalated quickly. Kale’s warning had not been an exaggeration after all.

  “Apologies.” Kale dipped his head, contrite.

  “I know you are worried about your charge, so I will not remember it. But do not push your luck, young man.”

  “It will keep her safe?” asked Kale.

  “Oh, yes. Perfectly. Vera won’t siphon a drop of magic while she wears it either.” Mariana had switched right back to the friendly quirky witch. “Oops, it is time to say goodbye. Your escort is nearly here.” Mariana pulled Vera to her feet, clasped the charm around her neck, and tucked it into her shirt. “Keep that hidden, okay dear?”

  “Oh, okay. Thank you again,” Vera stammered.

  Mariana patted Vera’s cheek. “Such a good girl. Come back and see me again when you have time to listen to some of my stories.” To Kale, Marianna said, “I’ll have that curse on the gate taken care of in a sennight. Until then, be careful. The witch you seek is more dangerous than you realize. If you do not stop her, you will lose your charge. I am rather taken with this one, so I would be very put out if you let that happen.”

  “I will not fail,” Kale promised.

  “Good.”

  The house began to tremble and hiss like before. A skittish gray kitten dropped its scrap of yarn on Vera’s foot on its way to Mariana’s shoulder, where it burrowed beneath the witch’s hair. Vera picked up the yarn and was surprised that it was not soft, but more plastic-like. Mariana tucked a few cookies into Vera’s empty hand.

  “For the road.” Marianna ushered Kale and Vera out the front door. The army of cats parted to let them pass.

  “Move out!” shouted the witch.

  The ground beneath the house began to heave and roil at Mariana’s command. Then the entire house lurched into motion. Kale tapped Vera’s arm and pointed at a cat who had broken away from the pack. The tabby picked a snake up carefully with its mouth, trotted back to the house with it, and tossed it under the porch with the others. Mariana’s house was slithering across the ground on a nest of snakes, which were being herded by a pack of tabby cats. Vera danced in a circle, checking for any stray snakes, her arms up in the air. Mariana’s laughter rang out while she watched Vera hop around like a dodo. The witch stroked her necklace which writhed beneath her touch. That was no necklace. Vera lifted the yarn in her hand to get a closer look at it. Nope, not yarn. She dropped the rolled piece of snake skin.

  “Oh, Kalesius,” Mariana shouted. “I forgot to remind you, the celebration of fear is tomorrow. You have terrible timing.” The woman cackled until the house disappeared into the trees.

  “Care to explain what that means?” asked Vera

  “Not right now, we don’t have time,” answered Kale. “Our escort is close. We need to get back to the road.”

  “Anything I should know about these witches and any pets they have, first?” Vera questioned.

  “Don’t walk behind the chickens,” he said cryptically. “Hurry, we’ll have to run again.”

  Vera didn’t have enough air to ask any more questions after that.

  8

  “Your talent for withholding important information is astounding,” Vera said icily.

  Kale had been expecting something like that. The girl did not like surprises. To be fair, he’d have wanted a heads up that Summartir witches rode horse-sized chickens with beady red eyes and serrated beaks too. But there hadn’t been time to warn her. He’d barely had time to remove all the leaves—evidence of their forest excursion—from Vera’s hair before the four witches had arriv
ed, saddled high on the birds’ necks. As Kale and Vera walked a safe distance behind their escort to the palace, one of the hens relieved itself. The steaming white goo fell into the dirt ahead of them. Fortunately, not near enough to splatter either of them. Vera leaped to the other side of the road, gagging.

  “I don’t know. It seemed important that you not walk too close to the chickens. Or that would’ve landed on your head.”

  Vera opened her mouth, probably to call him a nasty name or two. The girl caught sight of the excrement behind him and gagged again. Facing the other direction, she flipped him off over her head instead. Kale hadn’t laughed much in over a millennium, but with Vera around, he might pick up the habit again. Not even Dam or Mimi was brave enough to insult him as she did. Oh, she was definitely scared of him like the rest, but she was too hot-headed for her own good. She was like a tiny kitten, claws out, ready to take on a beast, and peeing herself the whole time.

  Vera stumbled over her feet while attempting to walk forward with her head craned to the side. Kale steadied her reflexively. One of the witches, a middle-aged witch in maroon-colored festival robes, noticed and sneered. As soon as the woman realized Kale watched her, she whipped around to hide her expression. Summartir witches were usually more careful with their expressions around Kale, not wanting to give him power over them in any form. They also wore full arm-length gloves when he was around, for the same reason. Showing up unannounced had thrown them off their game. It also hadn’t helped that Kale and his outsider guest were crashing the kick-off of one of their transition festivals. Or that Kale had refused to reveal the purpose for his visit when the entourage questioned him. Nothing stung a witch’s pride quite like a reminder that, even in their home realm, they had no authority over him. Cassie, one of the witches Kale knew by name, had attempted to soothe her own ego by going after Vera. The witch did not dare assault the Guardian head-on.

  “I’m surprised someone with so little magic was deemed worthy of the Guardian’s efforts. Honestly, I cannot even tell what you are.” Cassie sniffed the air like she smelled something rotten. “You poor child. That must make you feel quite wretched about yourself.”