An Arrogant Witch

by E M Graham

  ‘Brin,’ I called, pushing my way through the crowd. I put my hand over someone’s phone held out to record the spectacle and gave them the dirtiest look I could. The elf greeted me with a delighted smile.

  ‘Dara! Come join me and help me figure out the elements of this meal,’ he said as if he had no clue how pissed off I was at him, then he licked the pastel orange sauce off his fingers.

  He looked like he had slept rough, there was animal fur all over his long wool coat - he’d probably spent the night in Alice’s shed with the feral cats that she had adopted over the years. He certainly smelled like it. Elves were supposed to be such fastidious creatures, I could see why the rest of his clan had disowned him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked in a low voice as I slipped into the chair beside him. I shot menacing looks at the cluster of students all around to tell them the show was over, and the crowd slowly drifted away.

  ‘Waiting for my dear Alice,’ he said. ‘I have strict instructions to stay in this very spot. She gave me coinage to purchase this repast, but it is so strange. Look! All the elements of a meal, surely, but put together in layers. It is quite awful, I think.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s a sub sandwich,’ I told him. ‘It’s supposed to be like that.’ Then I had an idea. If I kept him close, he wouldn’t be able to get into any mischief, and I could somehow persuade him to go to Zeta’s store with me and give Willem an opportunity to show his stuff. ‘Look, why don’t you come with me? I’m going home. I’ll fix you a real meal.’

  ‘To your home?’ His eyes widened as he thought about this. ‘But Alice...’

  ‘I’ll fix it with her,’ I said, and took out my phone. ‘I’ll just text her, let her know where you are.’

  And I did.

  He stared with fascination at the phone. ‘What is this magic plate?’

  I held it out of his reach. ‘Later,’ I said as I stood up. ‘Let’s go catch the bus.’

  Brin followed me quite happily once I told him Alice was okay with it all. I was going to ask him to take off the top hat again so as to be less noticeable, but I realized with his rangy height he stood out in the crowd anyway so what was the point? He folded himself into the narrow bus bench, his face plastered to the window, entranced by the passing scenery.

  I had to do something about his wardrobe, even if his stay in real time would not be long. Brin just didn’t fit into the twenty-first century dressed as he was and he looked like he was freezing in the December winds. It might be raining out, but the wind chill was way below zero Celsius so we made a pit stop into the Sally Ann’s downtown. Due to his height and thinness he was hard to fit, but the volunteer workers eventually found a shirt and a pair of jeans that worked well enough despite being baggy and too short, and fitted out in a pair of men’s runners and thick socks underneath along with a bulky parka to keep him warm, he could just about pass for human. A knitted watch cap covered his ears.

  He kept his old clothes in the plastic bag provided, and proudly wore his new togs as we made our way up the west end of Water Street and then to my home. Brin chattered all the way.

  ‘It is so different from my own realm, this Other-land,’ he said. “Look, my poor home no longer exists, can this be the same place? How can it be?’ He looked at the wasteland of concrete with sadness in his eyes.

  ‘Your time. Or land, or Alt,’ I began, trying to explain to him what little I knew. ‘I think the two split at some point in the past, some time when magic wasn’t accepted anymore by Normals, or those you would call ‘Nonsupernaturals’.’

  ‘What caused this split?’

  ‘I think,’ I said. ‘I think maybe it was because Nons just stopped believing in all of it, magic and elves and fairies and things. It’s like with the coming of the modern age they became blinded and perhaps their nonbelief might have thickened the veil between the two.’

  I thought about luring him over to the patch of weeds by the bridge and forcing him back to Alt there and then, but he was keeping a watchful and wary eye on me as we passed the train station.

  When we started up the long drive way to Richmond Cottage, he paused among the weeds and looked up at the house. From this distance and in the late afternoon sun shining on the long French windows, it looked almost pristine. It was only when you got closer that you could notice the paint peeling from the clapboard and the moss growing on the roof.

  ‘I know this house!’ Brin clapped his hand to his cheek. ‘This grand estate. Are we to enter its hallowed halls?’

  ‘It’s my home,’ I said shortly. ‘We have extra bedrooms, so you can stay here tonight.’

  Edna’s old jeep was in the back driveway, so I pulled him aside before we approached the door.

  ‘Remember how I said the Normals here don’t believe in magic and things?’

  He nodded.

  ‘My family are Normals,’ I said. ‘You cannot tell them you’re an elf, or from Alt, okay?’

  He nodded again as he looked down at me, the stupid smile still plastered in his face. ‘Pretend to be human, you mean?’

  ‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘We’ll tell Edna that you’re a cousin of Alice’s or something, that they haven’t got room for you to stay in their house. I think she’ll fall for that.’

  And she did. My aunt was a little puzzled with this strange person in her house, especially since I hardly ever brought friends home with me, but she accepted him all the same. She sized up his height with delight.

  ‘You’ll come in handy when we’re putting up the Christmas tree,’ she said decisively and with distinct approval. She’d been charmed by the elf’s open smile. ‘Brin can stay in the pink room, I guess.’

  ‘That’s Maundy’s room, Edna,’ I reminded her. ‘That might not go down so well. How about the green striped room?’

  Edna knew about Maundy, our resident ghost, though I don’t think they’d ever met, and I don’t know if she really believed.

  ‘Fine, the green striped wallpaper room,’ Edna said. I could feel her rolling her eyes from where I stood.

  Brin of course was ecstatic about his bedroom, despite the fact that the ‘forties era wallpaper was peeling in places and the window sill showed distinct signs of dry rot. It was a far better lodging than he’d had in Alt. He placed his bag carefully by the side of the bed and whirled around.

  ‘A real bed!’ he said. ‘And all for myself?’

  ‘All yours, Brin,’ I told him. ‘I’m just down the hall here, so I’ll let you get settled in.’

  His would not be a long stay, but I didn’t tell him that. Instead I snuck off to make a call to Willem.

  MARK WAS NOT NEARLY so welcoming of my strange new friend. But he’d been a cop for thirty years, after all, and being suspicious was ingrained into his psyche by now.

  ‘A Hoskins cousin, eh?’ he said as we all sat down at the kitchen table. We were having a plain meal of soup and salad fortunately, food that Brin could understand. ‘You a cohort of Benjy?’

  ‘No,’ I jumped in. ‘He’s closer to Alice. Much closer. Doesn’t hang with Benge at all. Not into all that shit.’

  ‘Language, Dara,’ Edna said, and smiled sweetly at Brin as if she’d never let out a cuss word pass her lips in her life.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said to her.

  I’d arranged to meet Willem after supper, but hadn’t told him what it was about. Just that it would be to his advantage. Alice, I’d fobbed off with a couple of texts and she said she would meet us after eight as she had a late lab that night. I dreaded to see her face when I broke the news that Brin had decided to go back to Alt, but it couldn’t be helped.

  13

  THE ROCKET CAFE was the best place for Brin to wait for me. I sat him down at a little table in the back room where he could remain out of sight and not freak out too many people, with strict instructions to keep the watch cap on over his ears and not to move till I came back. He would be happy enough with his hot chocolate and croissant while I slipped around the corner to meet Wille
m at the Grog Shop underneath Zeta’s store. The sorcerer had demanded we meet there, although I was uncomfortable with the venue after the last time I’d been there, when he’d dragged me into Alt against my will.

  But thinking back on that incident gave me confidence that Willem could help me with the elf problem. If he could force me into Alt without even touching me, then surely he could do the same with an elf.

  He wasn’t there when I arrived, so I chose a seat by the bar and ordered a coke. Looking around the meager space, I saw there were few patrons this early in the evening, just a couple of the usual drunks and some guys setting up their sound system.

  Damn! Jack was playing here again tonight, it had totally slipped my mind that we’d agreed to meet. He wasn’t here yet, so I took my drink down to the corner and hoped I could escape his gaze when he came in. Jack wasn’t expecting me this early, for I’d told him I’d drop in later towards the end of his set. I had a lot to do before then. Dump an elf off in Alt and grab my mother’s medallion back from Willem. Then meet Alice and Jack as if nothing had happened. I could pull it off.

  ‘Perhaps we could step into a quieter space.’

  The sorcerer had taken me unawares, appearing like that. Dressed in his affectation of a long black robe, Willem nodded his head towards the fake brick wall of the bar, behind which lay the ancient door to Zeta’s cellar in Alt, not in real time. Which meant I would have to flip.

  ‘You’re the one who wanted to meet here, not me,’ I grumbled. I really didn’t want to go into Alt again, especially not with Willem for I didn’t trust him a bit. I could feel he had something up his sleeve, yet I had to play along with him. I reminded myself that I held cards too, that he wanted something from me that I could only give willingly. ‘Fine, but we’re flipping back to real time as soon as we get into next door.’

  ‘As you wish,’ he replied with a gracious smile on his face. ‘After you?’ He gave a small bow and indicated the wall again.

  A thought truck me. ‘How are we going to flip back again if we’re not in the same spot?’

  He laughed. ‘You have so much to learn. It’s not a problem if you know what you’re doing. I can flip us.’

  I had to trust him, so I shut my eyes and flipped with Willem directly on my heels.

  It looked like the patrons of the Alt Grog hadn’t moved from their spots since the last time I’d been there, or maybe they were all of a sort, the women in their tight, tawdry ragged dresses, the men in the various uniforms of international sailors and labourers.

  As I looked at these people, I began to wonder. Were they all supernaturals? Why let themselves be in such a state of poverty and addiction if they were? None of them were paying us any mind this time, caught up as they were in pouring the demon rum down their throats as soon as possible to numb their pain.

  ‘There are Normals in Alt, too,’ Willem whispered in my ear. ‘When the Witch Kin created the veil between the two dimensions and allowed it to thicken, the ancestors of these poor unfortunates were left behind. Caught up in the pain and miseries of their lives, they were unable to keep up with the real time. Instead, they listened to the whispering of a magic they could never hold, and remained behind here in Alt, thinking that just one more whiskey, one more drop of laudanum would help them reach their paradise.’

  His breath was too hot on my neck.

  ‘Can they be helped?’ I asked.

  He laughed nastily and shook his head. ‘It is what it is,’ he said. ‘They and their misbegotten offspring will remain on this side of the curtain forever, subject to the whims of those supernaturals amongst them. Look at them – they are uneducated superstitious fools, no better than cattle. Fodder for the vampires, unable to break away from the lives they have.’

  I turned away from them, uncomfortable at the thought of the misery of these masses of lives. Willem removed a key from his robes and unlocked the old oak door, allowing me to enter first. I ducked through the narrow portal and he shut the door tight behind us.

  The medallion was here somewhere, I could feel it like a force field and I realized that bastard sorcerer had hidden it inside this cellar - but in Alt. I looked toward the end of the tunnel-like room, up to that other small door under the road. I knew it was there, could almost taste it and I was confident I would get it on my own time. I just needed to play along with Willem until he sent the elf back to Alt. That was my priority tonight.

  True to his word, he grasped my elbow and we immediately flipped back to real time in Zeta’s cellar with its piles of smoky junk still untouched. The bare bulb shone over the space.

  ‘Take a seat,’ he said, indicating a couple of wooden crates. ‘Sit down, and talk to me.’

  We stared at each other across the shadows.

  ‘So what is it you need from me?’ I stuck my chin in the air, letting him know he wasn’t going to get what he wanted, not easily.

  He spread his hands out before him as if to show he had nothing up his sleeve. ‘I want your help,’ he replied simply. ‘And I want to be perfectly honest with you, for you deserve no less. We are equals, Dara, you and me.’

  ‘What do you need my help with?’ I was right to be suspicious of him.

  ‘The witch circle,’ he said. ‘My coven.’

  ‘Witch circle? You mean Carrie and Zeta and those other foolish women who can’t see through you?’

  A delighted chuckle emerged from his throat. ‘Yes, I was right Dara, we are truly equals,’ he said. ‘Yes. I need your continued presence there, to help add legitimacy to the group.’

  Willem leaned closer, his eyes shadowed by the dim light. ‘You see, these women are extremely bored with their lives. They want more. They want to be powerful, to be special. They want to possess magic.’

  ‘No one can give magic powers to someone else, surely,’ I said. ‘You’re either born with it or you’re not.’

  ‘Indeed, you are correct,’ he replied. ‘But we could give them... hmmm, the illusion of holding magic powers, the belief that they are part of something bigger.’

  ‘And,’ he continued, holding up his hand to stem my reaction. ‘They have the means to pay for it.’

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ I said to him. ‘You want me to help you... what, con money from Carrie and other women like her?’

  ‘No, not con, nothing illicit about this,’ he said, shaking his head as if with horror at the thought. ‘Perish the thought. We merely, through the coven, give their lives meaning, make them feel important and powerful, belonging to a sisterhood...’

  ‘Where do I come into this? Surely you can do that on your own?’

  ‘Ah, but you will join my coven, and be the example of the heights they could reach if they only work harder, pay more money....’ he said. ‘The other night was just the beginning. You see where I’m going with this? My prize student.’

  I saw plenty, and was totally repulsed by his petty scheme. But what could one expect from a failed sorcerer? He needed to pass me off as his fraudulent prize student in order to trick the women out of their money. I didn’t know who to feel sorrier for, Willem with his pathetic con game or the women he was fooling and I scornfully told him exactly what was on my mind.

  ‘Fraudulent?’ He drew himself up and stared me in disbelief. ‘You saw the magic you held in your grasp. Whose power was that – who called it up? Certainly not you with your untutored powers. Could you do that without my assistance?’ He placed his hands on his hips and waited for my reply.

  I opened my mouth to rebuke him and closed it just as quickly. Apart from the times I would play magic games with Sasha as children – no, I couldn’t get up a stream of magic like I’d held the other night. I could feel my outrage and self-righteousness collapsing inward.

  ‘You will of course get a portion of the proceeds,’ he added quickly, in a gentler voice. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t want your money,’ I said slowly. ‘But I do need assistance in other ways.
’

  He nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed. ‘I thought so,’ he said. ‘And the medallion you seek, I can give it to you, in exchange for becoming part of my coven.’

  ‘And more,’ I said. ‘I don’t just want that. I need you to help me clear up a small... problem.’

  Willem leaned back on his crate, his eyebrow risen in question.

  ‘I inadvertently brought that elf into real time,’ I confessed. ‘I need your help in sending him back to Alt.’

  ‘He won’t go back himself?’ Willem asked. ‘Why on earth would one of the elven persuasion want to be here?’

  ‘Brin isn’t like other elves,’ I told him. Although I suspected my friend Alice was part elf, I’d only ever seen real elves in passing on one of my forays into Alt. Haughty, aloof, they left a cold draught in their path like the north wind. ‘I mean, he is a full blood elf, but he doesn’t think like the rest of them, and so he’s been shunned. He’s a mutant.... he’s... nice.’

  ‘Oh,’ Willem said, as he thought about it. ‘How unfortunate. That I really cannot picture, although he is a shoddy specimen. But if he’s been rejected by his own kind over there, why not let him stay?’

  ‘Because if the Witch Kin find out what I’ve done, they’ll probably bind my magic,’ I told him in a rush. It felt good to get it off my chest, to explain to someone who understood my dilemma. Having known the scorn of rejection from the Sorcerers’ College, he could surely sympathize. We were unlikely accomplices, true, but as he had pointed out, we had some things in common.

  ‘Hmm,’ Willem leaned his back against the stone wall as he thought, his narrow eyes on me all the time. ‘That’s the elf who accosted me the other night. Send him back where he belongs, yes, that’s a good idea. Serve him right.’