by E M Graham
And he had promised to give it to me if I went along with him - God alone knew what he wanted with me, but it probably wouldn’t be pretty.
Willem as a sexual being? Nah. Despite the way Carrie was hanging off him and Zeta devoured him with her eyes, I just couldn’t summon up any idea of him as being sexual. He was too cold, too reptilian.
He wanted more than my body, but I also had a strong foreboding that the sorcerer might never give me what I wanted. The medallion would be a continual carrot on a stick, forever just out of my reach.
Willem was not to be trusted, yet I was going to have to pretend to go along with him in order to be close enough to steal the medallion from him. It would be a delicate dance along a razor’s edge, yes, but I was confident.
For I had natural power, even Willem had seen that. I had flown, well, something like it. Hugh had been by my side the first time, but the second time I’d done it all by myself, and in Alt! I’d learned to block my mind from a powerful witch like Hugh without even being told how to do it. And Sasha and I had played magic games when we were little, all those years ago. It had been effortless.
I was the daughter of Jonathon de Teilhard, and I had his magic blood running in my veins. Hugh had insisted I was a powerful witch, hadn’t he? I already had the power, Hugh only wanted to teach me the rules.
Look at all those books he left for me, I’d flicked through them and none of them were about magic. Psychology and Algebra, Philosophy and Latin. I would learn his rules, just not right now.
This failed sorcerer would be no match for me. I would enter the lion’s den, alone if necessary.
SO THE NEXT EVENING I went along to the meeting of his ramshackle coven at Zeta’s store.
He looked up at me, up from the shadows of the hood pulled over his head and his eyes glittered in the candle light as his small hand beckoned me on.
Carrie and Zeta and the other women looked over too, frowns on their faces as they watched me approach. All the women wore long flowing skirts in brilliant colours like the plumage of birds. I stuck out like a sore thumb in my sweatshirt and jeans, but I didn’t care. I had more power in my little finger than the lot of them put together.
‘The circle is now complete,’ Willem said without introducing me. ‘Places everyone, we will begin our evening’s work.’
He bade us all to hold hands in order to unite the circle and then started on a low chant, nonsense words or perhaps Latin, I couldn’t tell. All the others stood with their eyes closed, the anticipation of ecstasy written on their faces in the wavering light from the candles.
It was hypnotic, sort of, and I admired his style and ability to transform the room in to a space feeling infused with power. I found myself closing my eyes too, and swaying with the women in time to his rhythm as I went along with the ride. As his voice rose and fell, so did my attention as if I was being focused against my will, but without my protest.
And then I could feel it! Willem was there in my mind, reaching out from across the circle, and I felt his presence and his power. The women to either side of us, even though there was no magic between them, their focus also helped and I could feel them too as we all united into this glorious blaze of power, all of us equal, yet not.
Everyone must have felt it, this unification, for we opened our eyes all at the same time in wonder. As Willem let go of the hands he held and brought his own up into the air, so we all broke contact yet the circle remained. We watched as a blue light formed between his raised hands.
He caught my eye and nodded slightly, and I too raised my hands about six inches apart like he did. Without him telling me, I knew what to do, and I stared at my palms and willed the light to appear there.
It did, just a faint blue buzzing at first, but it grew in strength the more I opened myself to the circle and the more I poured myself into it, till finally the ball of energy sat between my hands as if I held a globe of the world in my grasp.
I laughed with delight and that caused my companions to look at me too, and I felt triumph in the jealousy on their faces even as I pulled the power from them. Foolish Normals! Wanna-be witches who would never know the thrill of creating magic like this, but yet they hungered after it and hated me for doing what they knew deep down inside that they could not do. I understood instinctively that it was this same emotional energy they flung around heedlessly, which enabled me to draw from them with the help of Willem.
Willem met my eyes over the circle and there was triumph on his face too.
I played with the ball of energy between my hands, exploring the nature of it, fascinated by this outward manifestation of my power and loving how the more jealous the women grew, the more they hungered after this phenomena for themselves, the stronger this ball of light itself grew.
But what could I do with this? I shot a question to Willem with my eyes and saw that he held a flask in his hands. He left the circle to approach me and nodded to the glass beaker in his hand.
I played with the magic a moment longer – it felt like quicksilver, so light and electric in my palms, then reluctantly poured it into the flask. Little bubbles of blue escaped into the air as if it knew it was to be locked away and lose its newfound freedom.
He quickly stuffed a cork in the top while whispering another incantation, and shoved it into the deep pockets of his robe.
After that, it was a bit of a letdown. I was still buzzing with this new magic, but he broke up the circle and started explaining to the women what had happened, or at least his version of the events.
‘You see what can happen if you apply yourselves,’ he said to the group. ‘Dara, although just starting out, she has the necessary purity of heart and desire to please the gods. And through this single-minded devotion, she is graced with the magic.’
‘But how can I... we do this?’ One of the women broke in and asked him.
‘You must continue to study hard,’ he said sternly, then turned to snuff out the candles and bring the overhead lights up softly. He continued over his shoulder, ‘A new course will be starting next week, and I don’t believe you‘ve all signed up for it yet. There are limited spaces available, you understand.’
‘But the expense,’ one of the women murmured. ‘Christmas is coming up, and I don’t know if I can spare the money.’
Willem rounded on her coldly. ‘If you are not wholly dedicated to the craft, then the craft is not for you. This opportunity will not be offered again, not at this cheap price. You might as well leave now if you’re not going to carry through on it with all your heart. I require nothing less than total devotion.’
Like a clutch of hens, they crowded around him, waving their credit cards and elbowing each other in the race to sign up. He pushed them away.
‘I told you - I accept only gold, silver if you must, jewels if that is all you have,’ he said, brushing aside their plastic cards. ‘I have no use for currency which is imaginary. Come back tomorrow morning, leave me now.’
I slipped my jacket on as I laughed silently to myself. They had no idea of the con he was playing on them. I might have felt sorry for them all, but I was too busy gloating in this new found magic of my own.
I pushed through the throng as I approached him and took him by the elbow. ‘Do you have something for me?’
He looked up and a small smile began to form on his face. ‘Your payment, you mean? Afraid not, dearie, not yet. We’ve only begun to work together. You haven’t earned anything yet.’
My face burned as he openly sneered at me, and I flung away his arm as if scalded. He was playing me for a fool, dangling the medallion on a string just out of my reach. But two could play this game.
One thing I had gotten from the evening was that Willem was right, I didn’t need all of those stupid thick books Hugh had asked me to read. And there was no doubt in my mind I could grab that medallion from Willem. I was merely softening him up for the kill, and would pounce when he was least expecting it.
My anger quickly swallowed, I n
odded. ‘Okay, no problem,’ I said as I looked him in the eye. ‘I rather enjoyed tonight, and look forward to more.’
I was playing Willem at his own game, and it felt good.
JACK AND I HAD AGREED to meet for a coffee at the Rocket that same evening. A date, I guess, but a low-key one in this bakery / coffee shop/ restaurant/ overall funky little place. The storefront had started life as a hardware store, and it still had the fancy wood cabinets along the walls. It was an old building, with lots of history and magic contained within its three floors.
I looked around the room as I sat. If I wanted, I could cause havoc in this room without lifting a finger, I could blow the minds of all these unsuspecting diners. The energy was still buzzing around inside me despite having poured most of it into the flask, and I was on top of the world.
All these Normals, living their sad pathetic normal lives, they couldn’t dream of the other realm all around them. Couldn’t even see the ghosts and other supernaturals who hovered in the room – old Mr. McNeil, the owner of the original shop, still in his leather apron as he waited to count out nails to customers who never approached him. The goblin with his smutty face, lurking in the corner as he waited for coins and pastry crumbs to be dropped. Even the woman in Edwardian garb who stood rooted right at the entrance to this room – people passed through her and merely shivered at the sudden draught.
And there was Jack himself, his eyes lit up at the sight of me as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t shiver, didn’t even look around as he passed through the ghost.
‘Hey,’ he said as he placed his coffee and change on the table.
‘Hey yourself,’ I replied. He looked damn good and I couldn’t help smiling at him. So solid and... normal.
Oh dear God. Suddenly I found myself tottering between the horns of the worst dilemma ever. Here I was, still buzzing with magical power, ready to step out into the world and become a real witch, and the guy who made me smile, this great kisser, he was a Normal without even a smidgeon of magical sensibility in his genes. How could this be?
I must be mistaken – perhaps he was hiding something.
‘You didn’t find it... cold, when you walked in here?’ I asked.
Jack looked around in surprise. ‘Cold? No, not at all,’ he replied. ‘You want to go somewhere warmer?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m fine. Just wondered...’ I paused as the goblin sidled up to us, his hungry eyes on the coins by Jack’s mug. I pretended not to look as he reached through the veil of Alt and tried to grasp the two-dollar coin in his dirty paws, but out of the corner of my eye I saw the toonie inch toward the edge of the table.
I looked at Jack. He wasn’t noticing a thing. ‘Your money...’
He looked at me uncomprehendingly, then glanced down at his change in time to see the coin teeter off the table edge.
‘Wow, my money’s running away from me,’ he laughed as he scooped it out of the air, right out of the grasp of the frustrated goblin. ‘This table must be wobbly.’
Shit. He couldn’t even smell that filthy green creature who was now cursing him soundly and stamping his unshod foot on the wooden floor.
I was conflicted, and not a little pissed at the unfairness of life. Now, if it had been Hugh sitting with me, he would have side-stepped the ghost at the door, maybe even sent the goblin packing with a scowl from his finely sculptured face.
But Hugh wasn’t the one who wanted to kiss me so tenderly. I kicked out with my foot, almost connecting with the creature and it scuttled away back to its corner, screeching.
‘Dara, what’s up? You seem... different tonight,’ Jack said, looking at me closely from across the table. The soft yellow lights of the cafe burnished the auburn highlights in his curls, like a halo of fall colours. His eyes narrowed. ‘You high or something? Not that I care, but you might want to share whatever you have.’
There was a tinge of bitterness in my laugh. I was still buzzing so much I was hardly able to sit still in the wooden chair, and I glanced around the room at the people sitting over their steaming drinks and stuffing their faces with pastry. High? I guess I was, at that. Willem had shown me how to unleash the power inside me that night, it was so simple I was surprised I had never stumbled on it myself. It would have happened sooner or later, for sure.
And Jack was solidly normal.
He was waiting for an answer.
‘No,’ I told him. ‘Haven’t smoked anything. I just... oh, I had such an experience tonight.’
Damn – I was itching to share this with someone, but as I met his clear gaze I knew it couldn’t be him. Could never be him. Shame, really, for Edna was right, he was a nice guy.
I couldn’t even share this with Hugh, for although he would understand about the magic he would deeply disapprove. Those luscious brows of his would draw together in a frown and he would turn all boring with his ‘I know better than you’ attitude.
‘Nothing to do with that guy Willem, was it?’ Jack asked this casually as he stirred his coffee.
‘What makes you say that?’
He shrugged. ‘I followed you in here,’ he said. ‘You came out of that flakey shop up on Duckworth Street, what is it? House of Magick or some weird thing?’
‘What if I did?’ I asked, drawing myself up stiffly. ‘What’s it got to do with you?’
‘That guy’s got a screw loose, I think,’ he continued, then paused before he spoke again. ‘You know, Dara, I like you, and I thought we could have something going here. Early stages, I know, maybe I shouldn’t be so presumptuous. But if... if you’re messing around with the likes of him, well, why don’t you just admit it?’
I stared at him, the hostility gathering in my voice. ‘What, like you think I’m screwing him or something?’
He stilled his hand, his gaze meeting me full on and something gave a little twinge inside me. ‘Are you?’
‘No,’ I said, half turning away in my seat. Oh I would be fucking with that sorcerer all right, but not in the way Jack meant. Willem was messing with me, dangling the goddamn medallion over my head like he was trifling with a cat, but he needed to be careful, for this cat had claws and I intended to use them.
But I couldn’t tell Jack that.
‘Listen,’ I said, turning back to him as I fixed a smile on my face. ‘Sorry for jumping down your throat like that. But I promise you, I am not thinking of sleeping with that guy. Gross! How could you even think that?’
Finally he relaxed and smiled back at me, and gave a one-shoulder shrug. ‘I’ve been burned before, you know,’ he said. ‘And I never want that to happen again.’
I let the smile linger on my face, and nodded, brushing aside the nagging of guilt I felt deep inside. No matter. I would get what I wanted from Willem, and then Jack and I could figure out a relationship. No problem.
I KNEW I COULD TAKE ON Willem in a battle of wits to get my hands on that medallion, but it came to me that there was another, easier way.
There was always Alice, I could get my friend on my side. Two powers were always better than one.
Alice Hoskins, my best friend from grade school, Alice had elf-blood in her. It had been diluted over the years, but somehow her great-grandmother’s genes had produced it in her. She was fast, super-smart, tall and skinny with long hair that was colorlessly blonde. She even had the pointy ears that screamed ‘elf’, for God’s sake, as if further proof was needed.
But Alice was in complete denial over her gifts, wasn’t interested in finding out what her powers might be. She’d immersed herself into the world of science as if looking for proof it was all a lie, and still hadn’t forgiven me for September when she’d almost been killed by Sasha’s boyfriend. She blamed me for the whole thing, but I’d only been trying to save her brother from the Southside Hill fairies in the beginning, and things had ballooned from there.
She refused to believe in the supernatural, but I knew how to get her on board.
8
MY PHONE BUZZED in the middle of Folkl
ore class, and it was a welcome distraction. I’d been listening to the prof with only half an ear, the rest of my attention worrying between the stupid paper I had yet to write and the larger, more compelling problem of Willem.
Hugh. He wanted to see me, offering to pick me up after class. I glanced outside to the early afternoon dreariness and it was pissing out rain again, so I welcomed the relief of getting a ride instead of having to wait for the bus in the cold and wet. I texted him the details of where and when to pick me up. If I played my cards right he might even buy me a bite to eat.
Squashed into the crowded steamy entrance of the Arts Building with all the other soggy undergrads who were waiting for their parents to pick them up, I couldn’t help but feel superior to them all. Normals, all of them, not a magic drop in their veins, nothing to lift them out of the rat race they had been consigned to by their unfortunate births.
Study hard, work hard, and they might sometime be awarded with a mortgage for an overpriced home in Paradise, that suburb of sameness where they could have their 2.5 children and slave until their underfunded pensions gave them an illusion of freedom. They were here waiting for their parents’ mini-vans or Corollas, they could only dream about the glamour of being picked up in the Batmobile. Like me.
I wished it was brighter outside so they could see the full glory of the exotic beast driven by Hugh, the blackest of black low slung European sports car. They would know that Dara (de Teilhard) Martin was an important person.
The phone buzzed again. Hugh.
I’m here.
I don’t see you?
Honda Civic. Red one.
WHERE’S THE BATMOBILE???
There was a pause before he replied.
Just come out would you?
‘Where’d you get this boring old car?’ I slammed the car door behind me as I slumped into the cloth seat.
‘The Batmobile, as you call it, belongs to your father,’ he said. ‘He put in storage for the winter. This is my rental, what’s wrong with it?’
I shrugged into the seat belt. It was too tight so I tugged it hard and heard the snap as it latched into place.