Bewitched and Bewildered

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Bewitched and Bewildered Page 8

by Constance Barker

She cranked the handle and the door opened. She raced in. It was dimmer inside the building, with lights on the ceiling of the corridor. Echo could see the shadow of the lion, small on the floor, but moving quickly. Light coming from the square window of a door suddenly threw the lion shadow large against the wall.

  They hadn’t wiped it out. It was still going for its target. Echo followed around a corner, but ran up against another locked door. The lion had slipped through, or under—how thin was a shadow? Before she could recite the spell again, a klaxon went off, the submarine sound of the alarm making her skull buzz.

  Chapter 17

  Quinn sprinted to where she saw Echo enter the building. When she was a few steps away, it burst open. Echo flew past. Gunfire cracked from inside.

  “Echo, are you all right?”

  “Run!” Echo plowed into her, shoving her along. Over her shoulder, Quinn saw why.

  In the fading artificial daylight, she saw a strange and gruesome sight. At first, she couldn’t figure it out. Something bobbed along, a couple feet off the ground, bent in two, dripping red. She gasped as she recognized a human arm. Though nothing held onto the arm, a dark shadow moved beneath. The shadow of an invisible lion holding a detached human arm.

  Quinn stumbled, feeling woozy.

  “Let’s go, Quinn!” Echo continued to pull her along.

  “The lion’s going the other way.”

  “It’s not the lion I’m worried about.” Behind them, the personnel door banged open. Guns cracked, thunder in the silent noon-like-night. Even now, the spell faded, coloring the sky in spectacular shades Quinn had never seen before.

  There was no time to gawk. They reached Quinn’s car, jumped in, and peeled out. Echo craned her neck at the deputies. “I think they’re shooting at the invisible lion.”

  “I’m not sure if I should be more worried that deputies are shooting at something they can’t see, or shooting at us.”

  “Hello? Hello? Talk to me, guys.”

  “Harvest, let’s get out of here. It didn’t work,” Quinn shouted into the phone.

  “Thanks for telling me. Dad, we’re aborting. Are you there?” Harvest’s voice asked.

  After a moment, there was no response.

  “Tell you what,” Harvest said. “I’ll go get Dad. You two go home. We’ll meet you.”

  “Roger dodger,” Echo said. “Over and out.”

  Her words rubbed Quinn the wrong way. “This isn’t a game, Echo.”

  “Quinn, if we can’t have some fun with it, we better stop now. There’s an invisible lion, casting a clear shadow, running around with an arm in its mouth. We can either see the irony in it, or end up going crazy.”

  Quinn pulled to the side of the street. Sheriff Department cars streamed out of the lot, circling around with lights and sirens. She let out her breath. “We just screwed up royally, Squirt. I really can’t see the lighter side of it right now.”

  “Well, we didn’t bag the lion. Okay, we’re just thinking about this wrong. But when we took The Vow, I don’t remember anything about being superhero monster killers. Defend those defenseless, it said. In my mind, that means Zuri, and Cora, and your little ladies’ man, George. Not a-holes who shoot each other in busy parking lots, or cops who signed up for that kind of life. I’m not sitting in judgment, but we’re only three triplets in backwoods PA. There’s only so much we can do. On the flip side, there’s no one else doing anything. And, not to punk out or anything, but our name isn’t on this project. If we screw up, no one will know. So frickin lighten up.”

  Quinn received a punch in the shoulder. After a moment, she smirked. “I think I’m just a little cranky.”

  “We need chocolate ice cream,” Echo said. “I guess I can get my car when the heat is off.”

  THE GAS STATION SOLD Chunky bars, Echo’s favorite. She chewed through an entire bar as they walked back to Quinn’s car.

  “What did you mean when you said we’re thinking about this wrong?” Quinn asked.

  Echo had to chew for three minutes before her mouth was chocolate-free enough for speech. “First of all, Harvest has the intuition. I mean, like nobody’s business, right?”

  “Can’t argue.” Quinn started the car.

  “If she doesn’t think Chelby Zambo is the responsible witch, can we argue that?”

  “Well, no, but Dad says—”

  “Hold up, hold up. I get that you want to put your trust in someone who’s really been at this magic thing a long time. You, out of all of us, have spent some real time with Dad. I, on the other hand, have only a single memory of a Thanksgiving when I was ten years old.”

  Quinn drove the car toward home. She put a finger of Kit Kat in her mouth. Around it, as if the thought couldn’t wait, she mumbled, “Wait a minute, you can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.”

  “Chelby Zambo isn’t the only new witch in town, Quinn.”

  “No way! Not Dad! Why would he?”

  “Why does Dad do anything? I love hearing him talk, I love his philosophy about the dying of wonder in the world, his stories about Mom, and I want to fall into his arms and beg him never, ever to leave us again. At the same time, I’m really, really, really angry with him. I get it, he’s in love with Mom, always has been. But tough S, dude, you’ve got three girls to take care of. You’re just going to gallivant around the world trying to get back to Mom? Screw that! I don’t trust him, because I have no reason to. And, really, Sis, neither do you.”

  Quinn felt her eyes well as she drove, and blinked the tears away. “I get it. You’re angry. But no, Dad is a good man.”

  “B.S.”

  “I know he hasn’t been around for you. He loves us. He’s a great man, Echo.”

  “By what standard? Mom’s got an excuse. She turns into a vegetable when she leaves the Twih. Makes family reunions tough. But Dad? You know what, if I’m wrong, I’ll eat my words, go back to begging him never to leave, yadda blah blah.”

  Quinn slowed down to take a long curve. “Oh, you will eat your words.”

  “Good, so you’ll guard my back while I search his room.”

  “What?” Quinn dropped a Kit Kat finger.

  “I just need you to stall him in case he gets home while I’m in the spare room.”

  “He’s not that powerful a witch, Echo. He’s like the Grams, a country witch, not a half-Twih witch like us.”

  Echo took in Quinn’s profile, heart sinking at the expression of distress. Still, it had to be done. “Sure, but he doesn’t keep bees like the Grams. He studies magic. Kinda for a living. And he’s been at it since before you were born. I have to be sure. We have to be sure.”

  “You’re breaking my heart a little, here.”

  Echo faced away. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  HARVEST HAD THE ODDEST feeling before reaching Poplar Street. She felt the need to slow down. Distantly, sirens howled in the night, none near her. Still, she took her foot off the gas and quietly parked behind Dad’s rental. He wasn’t inside.

  Her phone beeped a text alert from Quinn. The message confused her. Stall Dad.

  First, she had to find him. Poplar street was a typical residential street, houses, couple apartment buildings, trees. Few cars were parked on the brick street, save her own and Dad’s. She did a slow walk up the block, seeing no one, hearing no dogs barking. Then Harvest pulled the little mag light out of her tactical vest and headed through a side yard.

  Businesses from West 3rd Ave backed into the block, making her passage easy. She made her way down an alley and ended up in the Zambo’s backyard. Or what she figured was their backyard, since Dad stood in the middle of it waving a sword around.

  Stall Dad. Did that mean let him go on like a crazy person for as long as he wanted? Harvest watched. The blade of the sword was a wavy triangle, the broad part near the hilt. Decorations covered the blade, the hilt looked like it was jeweled. Dad stood stock still, staring at the house. Then, thrusting from the knees, he brought the weapon forward in a series
of elaborate motions.

  Harvest could see the symbol traced by the sword tip in after image, even though there had been no light. She didn’t recognize it. In a moment, the glyph faded from her retinas. Once again, Dad made like a statue, staring down the length of the blade at the Zambos’ house.

  His voice startled her. “Questions?”

  “I can think of a couple.”

  “I’m trying to keep the shadow creature from returning to his maker.”

  Harvest put her light away. “Well, I guess you’re doing a good job. I don’t see it anywhere.”

  Dad’s mouth formed a moue. “Frankly, I don’t think I’m doing a damn thing. I just don’t understand how Chelby’s doing it.”

  “Maybe we should head out before we get spotted. Hello, 911, there’s a guy with a wavy sword in my yard.”

  She watched Dad make some kind of salute with the sword. Again, she saw the afterimage of a symbol, as if the tip had been alight. Dad put the sword in a scabbard and hung it over his back. Harvest led them to the alley.

  “It’s called a kris,” Dad said. “Indonesian. I use it as my athame.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Dad broke into a laugh. “You know, it’s really great talking to someone who isn’t a magic nerd. Sometimes I forget there are normal people in the world.”

  “I’m hardly normal, Dad.”

  “Compared to my friends and correspondents, you most certainly are.” He put his arm around her as they walked toward their cars. “Magic, real magic, can consume your life, Harvest. Take it from me, it can overwhelm you and become your entire world. But you girls, and you especially, haven’t succumbed to the power. Even when those ISO victims tried to cut you off from your regular lives, to force you into becoming full time witches, you fought back. You maintained your identities. You hung on to your normal lives.”

  Harvest snorted. “Of course we did. What else would we do?”

  “What else indeed,” Dad said to himself. They reached the vehicles, Dad scrounging for his keys. Suddenly, he froze, eyes wide, gasping.

  “Hey, Dad, are you okay?”

  He held up a hand. “Stand back, Harvest.”

  “What?” She asked, but was glad she did what she was told. Dad ripped the sword from the scabbard. He made wide slashes in the air. Harvest saw sparks fly. Then, it seemed that reality itself had been slashed by the blade. Dad stepped into the torn reality. In an instant, everything looked the same again. Except Dad no longer stood there.

  Chapter 18

  Why was she being so paranoid about Dad? Was it because she was angry? Echo thought maybe. She also knew they had let apparent friends and allies nearly do them in before. The sisters couldn’t let it happen again.

  With Quinn on the front porch, Echo crept into the spare room. It was on the other side of the stairs. At some point, it was probably a sitting room or keeping room or some such, but generations ago, the kitchen had been expanded, leaving just this space behind. You could look at it as a small room, or an extra-large closet. It currently contained a daybed and a suitcase.

  Say what you want about Dad, he sure traveled light. Echo sat on the daybed. She glanced out the window, but the night reflected her image. Get to it, she chided herself.

  Unlike Harvest, Echo was not a natural snoop. She tapped her fingers on the hard suitcase. Was she really going to open it? The idea gave her the creeps. But this wasn’t a want-to situation—it was a need-to situation. She reached for the latches when a bright green glow caught her eye.

  She faced the window, seeing her reflection, but superimposed were pinpoints of green light. Echo jumped up, switching off the lamp. Outside, a bulky shadow reacted at the sudden dark. The lights were eyes, Echo saw, but now those eyes couldn’t see her—could they? With a brittle sound, the shadow lion bumped its snout into the window. Echo could hear it inhale, seeking her scent.

  Moving slowly, she backed out of the room, eyes locked on the shadow beast in the yard. Quinn was on the porch. Echo had to warn her. Instead, she jumped three feet in the air at a touch on her shoulder.

  Dad put a finger to his lips. The other hand held—was that a sword?

  DAD VANISHED.

  Quinn squinted at the text again. What did that even mean? That he wasn’t at the Zambo house? The phone beeped again.

  Into thin air.

  Ah. That was different. While Quinn was still confused, she was confused in a different way. Funny how eight months as a witch could jade your perceptions. From the corner of her eye, she caught bright light, as if a camera flash had gone off in the house. She peered inside. Okay, so Dad had vanished into thin air, and had reappeared in the living room. He pointed into the spare room with... was that a sword?

  Around the side of the house came a drawn-out, snore-y, raspy sound that made her hair stand on end. That growl could only come from a big cat. Moving slowly, trying to keep the boards of the porch from creaking, she made for the front door. Through the window, she saw Dad whirl the sword through the air.

  Quinn blinked hard. An afterimage, like an elaborate, upside down letter A, hung in her vision. No longer did she hear the leonine growl outside. Dad lowered the sword. Had he banished the lion? Was that all it took? If so, why were they working up new spells and chasing the thing down?

  Still watching, she saw Dad take a chain from around his neck. He showed the pendant to Echo. Her youngest sister seemed enthralled. She couldn’t hear their conversation. Quinn had to wonder—was Dad trying to divert Echo with a gift? It almost seemed as if he were mesmerizing her.

  Harvest was losing faith that Dad’s theories about the lion were true. Echo, on the other hand, was straight up suspicious of Dad. Did he know? He must know. He could disappear into thin air. He could chase off a lion with a crazy-looking sword. How hard would it be for a witch with that kind of power to hypnotize a college freshman?

  They couldn’t be that wrong about Dad. They couldn’t be. No way. Quinn entered the house. “Hey, Dad, how did you get here? I didn’t see you pull up.”

  “Oh, I was in a hurry.” He put the necklace in Echo’s hand. “Like Quinn is a natural writer, and Harvest an intuitive, you are in tune with animals. This was your mother’s. Animals of this world are sensitive to magic, sometimes afraid of it. She used this to protect herself. But you, Echo, can find a much greater use, I’m sure.”

  Dad put the sword in an elaborate scabbard on his back.

  “I got a text from Harvest. She said you vanished.”

  “Now I’ve got hell to pay for it,” Dad said, rubbing his temples. “If I’m not awake in sixteen hours, you’ll find a pill vial in my suitcase. Put the ruby inside it under my tongue. I should be okay then.”

  Dad stumbled into the spare room and closed the door. Echo stood, staring at the tear-shaped pendant in her palm.

  “You okay, Echo?”

  “There was a lion in the gem.” Echo lifted the chain, dangling the necklace like a pendulum. “Now it’s gone.”

  Quinn lowered her voice. “Did you find anything in his room?”

  Echo’s eyes remained on the gem. “I didn’t really look.”

  “You saw the lion?”

  “There was a lion. And then there was a lion in the gem. Now it’s gone.”

  Quinn put an arm around her sister. “I think we’re all sleep-deprived. Go to bed, Squirt. Get some rest.”

  Echo walked upstairs like a somnambulist. The girl looked exhausted. Quinn felt beyond exhausted. She texted Harvest back.

  Dad reappeared here. He’s sleeping. Go home. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you at your place in the morning.

  IT WAS NICE HAVING Quinn over for breakfast, even if the situation seemed a little dire. Harvest tossed some eggs around.

  “You still haven’t rented the other half of this duplex?”

  “Asks the woman still living out of boxes at the Grams.”

  “Touché.” Quinn sipped her coffee.

  “I’
d be happy to rent it to you. Two beds, one and a half baths, working fireplace, appliances no older than 1972. Matching avocado range and refrigerator. Be nice to have some steady income. I do pretty good as a constable, but the gig is always a little iffy.”

  Quinn took a plate of bacon and eggs. “Are you going to run again? I know the elections a couple years off. I’m surprised you dropped out of college to do it.”

  “I did not drop out of college. I obtained my AA in criminal justice, and have completed a hundred twenty hours of police training. I hardly use any of it. I’m a process server and a prisoner escort. I don’t want to be a cop. Even on the fringes of law enforcement, I get my share of gritty underbelly and human misery.”

  “Well, at least you look cool doing it.”

  “Gotta have some perks.” Harvest sat across from her. “So. Dad can... what, teleport, I guess? And he showed up with the lion?”

  “Echo wanted to search his room. She’s thinking that Dad’s the one summoning the lion. She says she had no reason to trust him. Then he gave her this necklace, and she went a little zombie-ish.” Quinn blew her cheeks out. “You don’t think Chelby is the one summoning the lion. Does that make Echo right?”

  “What, are you saying we investigate Dad? Put a tail on him? I mean, A) he’s sleeping in the spare room at the Grams and B) he can teleport. I really don’t see the point.”

  Quinn ate some breakfast. “This is pretty good. Yeah, I guess it would be, I don’t know, either really silly, or next to impossible.”

  “I wish there was someone we could ask about this stuff. Dad was talking about magic nerds. I guess he keeps in contact with other witch-types. But, hell, I don’t know any. Do you?”

  Quinn ran a triangle of toast through egg yolk. “You know, I did hear a name. From Echo. Do you know Alan McGooby?”

  Harvest cracked up. “Seriously? McGooby?”

  “He may have a funny name, but from what I understand, he’s got a lot of insight into magic stuff.”

 

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