by Mary Swift
Talia started laughing. “Even the hair on your arm is red. Does that mean it is red everywhere?”
“I want you to leave me and Lucy alone.”
“You would take a child away from her mother?”
“I live fifty feet away.” Killian pointed to his house. As he did he noticed several enchanters had come out of their homes to watch the confrontation including Talia’s two brothers. “Can we do this inside?”
“No we can’t.” Talia said. “You’re not welcome in my home, not if you’re going to keep my daughter from me.”
“You can knock on the door and see her whenever you want. But she’s not living with you, not until I can trust that you won’t hurt her.”
Talia’s face became red. Logan put his arm around her shoulders. “I’m going to help Talia with controlling her temper. You’ll see, things will be different.”
Talia shrugged him off. “I don’t have a problem controlling my temper.”
“Everyone knows you do. That’s why you did this to me.” Killian said. “Your spell was supposed to benefit the circle, not get revenge.”
“So was yours.” Talia countered. “Then the first thing you do is divorce me.”
“I had to, for Lucy’s sake, and mine.” Killian paused. “And for yours, you would have pushed me too far and I would have killed you.”
Talia laughed out loud. “You aren’t capable of that, you’re not a man, you are nothing. No one ever wanted you. My father picked you up on the side of the road. You’re lucky we even fed you.”
“That’s about all you did.”
“That’s all you deserve. Whatever circle you are from, they never came for you did they? That’s because they’re glad you’re gone. They probably don’t even miss you.”
Killian couldn’t argue with that. No one had come for him. If the older enchanters in Wildbush knew where he was from they never told him, even Granny Jenkins was silent. If he tried to ask questions she would always say that the past was best forgotten, and there was no written history of Wildbush that he was aware of. He was never going to know.
“I’m sure we can learn to get along.” Logan said.
Killian looked at Talia’s brothers, they were watching intently, he had to be careful. “You should be exiled for what you’ve done to me Talia.”
“I should be but I won’t, thanks to you. You’re the one who changed the council rules so that someone who casts a spell without permission isn’t exiled.” She twirled a strand of hair in her fingers. “My spell does something else too, do you want to know what that is?”
Killian held Lucy tighter. He was afraid to know.
Talia smiled slyly. “I made it so that the hair on the head of every natural redhead in Wildbush would turn white, forever. In fact anyone you come in contact with who has red hair will lose theirs. You will always be the only redhead wherever you go. And your hair will never turn gray. You’ll never be a real elder. I want you to look in the mirror and remember what you did to me every day of your life.”
Killian felt sick to his stomach. He would stand out even more than he already did. “If only you had shown me a little kindness. I would have stayed with you if you had treated me like your equal.”
Talia raised her hand to strike him. He turned around to shield Lucy.
“It’s all right Killian.” Logan said. “I’m going to take care of Talia. Things will get better, I promise.”
Killian doubted that. He had grown up with Talia, he knew her better than anyone else and he didn’t believe that she could change, or more importantly wanted to.
Lucy moaned and raised her head from his shoulder. She frowned and then poked at his red eyebrow with her finger. “Daddy?” she questioned.
He kissed her forehead. “Yes it’s me. I’m still Daddy.”
Chapter 11
Because of Talia’s spell Maeve’s radiant red hair was transformed into a mane of white overnight. Her crowning glory, the thing that always got her noticed, that made men want to be with her, was taken away, and once again it was the fault of Killian Cramer.
As the years passed she grew angrier and angrier. She had come to Wildbush to watch Killian suffer and at first it had been fun. But after he cast his spell everything changed. Killian got a divorce and his daughter to raise. She couldn’t even be happy about his transformation into a redhead, something he hated, because it had cost her her beauty. And to make matters even worse the mortals had taken a liking to him, especially the women. Soon Maeve found out just how far things had gone.
Lydia Cheever was an old bat of a mortal who liked to come to the cafe for lunch. She often lingered at her table near the window watching the passersby and commenting on their taste in clothing. One day Maeve spotted Killian on the opposite side of the street. It was easy to do, his hair blazed brightly in the sunlight. He was with Lucy who was six years old.
“He’s a handsome young man isn’t he?” Lydia said as she sipped her tea.
“What?” Maeve didn’t like her thoughts being interrupted by a lowly mortal.
“I said Killian Cramer is a handsome young man.”
“I suppose so.”
“It’s a shame that spell cost you your red hair, but it looks so nice on him.” Lydia said.
The mortals knew all about Talia’s spell. Maeve thought it was ridiculous that the mortals should know enchanter business, but that’s how it was in mixed towns. The only mortals in Firesea were slaves, they weren’t entitled to know anything.
They watched as Killian took Lucy’s hand and looked into a shop window. He still wore his hair long. It was pulled back from his face and hung halfway down his back. With his tall slender frame and striking coloring he stood out from the humdrum population of Wildbush.
“He’s a shy one.” Lydia said. “He barely says two words to anyone except the little girl.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh yes. It’s a pity too, he could probably have his pick of women if he wasn’t so timid.”
“He’s nothing, no one wants him.”
Lydia shrugged and took a bite of her pastry. “That’s not what I hear.” She stared out the window and smiled. “He’s a good father, you have to admit that, not many boys could have a child at sixteen and be so attentive.”
Maeve didn’t see what the big deal about that was. The marriage age for enchanters was sixteen, plenty of them became parents shortly afterwards. Only a mortal would think that was something special.
“I’m glad he and that woman are divorced.” Lydia said. “I do feel bad for her new husband though.”
Talia had married Logan the same year Killian divorced her. Since then she had given birth to two boys. Logan was frequently seen in Wildbush looking through the walls to spy on the mortals, he never seemed to have any visible bruises but that didn’t necessarily mean that Talia had been tamed. Maeve didn’t care either way.
Outside Lucy turned and pointed to the cafe. She liked their heart shaped cakes with the pink frosting. Killian said something to her, he seemed uneasy. Lucy appeared to be pleading with him. Finally he nodded and the two of them crossed the street.
“Oh here he comes.” Lydia said.
Maeve moved behind the counter. The bell on the door jingled as Killian and Lucy stepped inside. The little girl grinned excitedly. She looked like her mother with her dark hair and eyes. She dragged her father to the pastry case and pointed to her favorite cakes. “That one right there.” she said.
Killian cleared his throat and swallowed. “Uh, two of those cakes please.”
“Of course.” Maeve said pertly. “Shall I wrap them up or would you like to have them here?”
“Uh, we’ll take them home.”
“I want to eat them here Daddy.” Lucy whined.
“You haven’t had your dinner yet. We’ll save them for dessert.” Killian told her. He looked nervously around the cafe as though he expected to see a ghost. Maeve couldn’t believe that anyone could be that bashful.
> She put the cakes in a box and handed them to him. “Ten cents please.”
Killian reached into his pocket and took out a dime. He put it on the counter. “Thank you.”
His voice made her think of his worthless father Devin. “You’re very welcome Mr. Cramer.”
He took the cakes and left. Maeve returned to the window. She watched Killian and his daughter until they disappeared behind the wooden wall of the circle.
Lydia finished her tea and stood up. “All the men in Wildbush should be so polite. See you tomorrow Maeve.” She bustled out of the cafe.
Old memories surfaced in Maeve’s mind. She could have been someone in Firesea, maybe even the Master Enchanter if she had played her cards right. Now she was nothing but a shopkeeper and Killian was regarded as a handsome and polite man. No one knew he was the product of a messy affair that had ruined the lives of so many in Firesea. She had come to Wildbush to enjoy his downfall but it wasn’t happening, something had to change.
Chapter 12
It had been thirty years since Finnegan had cast his spell and sent Killian away. Life had been hard. He had to learn to rely on himself for everything. He also had to learn to live among the mortals. He had been around them for so long he sometimes forgot he was an enchanter. His real nature wouldn’t become apparent until he began to outlive the mortals around him. Enchanters appeared to age the same as mortals until they reached their elder years when they continued to live on for hundreds of years.
Finnegan was forty two years old. The only indication that there was something different about him was his unusually green eyes, something that was quite common in Firesea. The mortals found them an unusual but pleasing feature.
Although he had worked many jobs in many professions Finnegan had managed to put himself through law school. He graduated later than most mortals, he was thirty five, but he was proud of his accomplishment. He opened his own law office and made a good living drafting wills, settling estates and reading contracts, it was interesting work and he didn’t mind it. That didn’t mean he didn’t wish he was back in Firesea. He was the rightful heir to the Master Enchanter’s robe. He could have been ruling a circle instead of plodding along like an ordinary mortal.
Finnegan wasn’t sure if he was sorry or not for what he had done to Killian. He often wondered what sort of man his little brother had become. He would be thirty four now, he might be a husband and father.
Finnegan had considered travelling to Wildbush a thousand times. It wasn’t that far away and he owned an automobile. But seeing Killian wouldn’t change anything and Finnegan could never get up the nerve to introduce himself as his older brother. He didn’t even know if Killian knew where he had come from. It was too late anyway, three decades had passed; there was no point in dwelling on things that couldn’t be undone.
He was sitting in his office waiting for a client to arrive. The mortal town of Chilton lay outside the window. Finnegan owned a house just down the street. He sighed and tapped his fingers on his desk. He wasn’t looking forward to his next appointment. Dante Gavrashelli was an irritating poet that everyone except for Finnegan seemed to think was the most brilliant writer since Shakespeare. Dante was in the middle of negotiating a contract with a publisher and Finnegan was helping him with it. It was a good business opportunity but it meant putting up with Dante for an hour every week.
The door opened. Finnegan’s shapely secretary bustled in. “Mr. Gavrashelli and his wife are here.”
Finnegan sighed. Dante’s wife Nora was a pain in his backside. Finnegan didn’t like her one bit. She was always asking questions and bringing things up before he had a chance to mention them. He suspected that she was probably smarter than her husband but he would never admit that to anyone.
“Send them in.” Finnegan told his secretary. He might as well get it over with.
“Yes sir.” She opened the door. Dante and Nora had arrived.
Chapter 13
Nora had grown up poor; her parents had died early leaving her and her younger brother Tom to make their own way in the world. She had never had the luxury of romantic daydreams. Within a few months of meeting Dante they were married. He seemed to live in a fantasy world of poetry and art. He took her away from her dirty and meager upbringing and brought her to a place she never imagined she could inhabit.
Fourteen years later Dante was on the cusp of fame. His first book of poetry was about to be published. All they needed to do was check with their lawyer to make sure the contract was in order. Nora didn’t care much for Finnegan Murphy. There was something unusual about him. Every time she was in his office she sensed a strange vibration in the air. She had once asked Dante about it.
“He’s a weird man.” he told her.
Nora agreed with that. “There are other lawyers.”
Dante tossed his long dark hair off his shoulders. He looked like a romantic hero out of a book. “I can put up with his oddities, he’s an excellent attorney.”
“I suppose.” Nora hadn’t heard anything to substantiate the notion that Finnegan was an excellent anything, but she supposed Dante ought to choose who he wanted, the book was his endeavor. She would just have to put up with his lawyer.
The day before Dante was to sign his contract they had a meeting with Finnegan to finalize everything. Finnegan’s pretty young secretary showed them into his office. She wrinkled her nose as she looked at Nora’s outfit. Finnegan was behind his desk. He had the most impossibly green eyes that Nora had ever seen, they were almost unnatural. They had led her to believe that he might be an enchanter, she had never met one that she knew of.
Finnegan stood up and shook Dante’s hand. “How are you?”
“Magnificent!” Dante exclaimed.
Finnegan didn’t look too impressed with his answer. “Yeah, that’s great.”
“How goes the contract?” Dante asked. “Is it all right?”
“Yes, it looks fine to me. It’s a standard contract.”
“Will you be there when Dante signs it?” Nora asked. “I want to make sure they don’t slip in anything at the last minute.”
Finnegan chuckled. “Really Mrs. Gavrashelli, you act as though you had some firsthand knowledge of these things. Leave it to the experts.”
Nora looked at Dante, he was fiddling with his hair. She thought he ought to tell Finnegan not to be so condescending but Dante wasn’t like that. She sighed and sat down. Dante and Finnegan both took their seats.
“Will I be photographed while I sign the contract?” Dante asked. “I want to make sure I look the part of a poet.”
Finnegan made some kind of irritated noise. “I’ll arrange for a photographer.”
“Thank you.”
“What about the payments?” Nora asked. “You were going to make sure that Dante began to receive checks next month.” They needed the money.
Dante put his hand on her knee. “Don’t worry about that darling, I’m sure Mr. Murphy has it well in hand.”
“Dante, we have barely anything for the next few weeks. I’m just concerned.”
“We don’t need money when we have our love.” He kissed the back of her hand.
Finnegan cleared his throat. “You needn’t worry, I’ve arranged for an advance. Of course you’ll have to sell some books or you’ll be giving it back.”
“That won’t be a problem.” Dante said. “When people read my poems they will be swept away.”
Dante was completely impractical. He had no common sense whatsoever, that’s what had made Nora fall in love with him when she was eighteen. After fourteen years of marriage it wasn’t as charming as she had once found it to be. She looked at Finnegan. He didn’t seem like the poetic type. “Have you read the book Mr. Murphy? I know Dante gave you a copy of his final draft.”
“I’m very busy Mrs. Gavrashelli.”
“Do you have a wife?”
His expression told her that he didn’t like being asked the question. “I’m not married.”
D
ante folded his slender hands on his chest. “I highly recommend it Finnegan. When Nora and I met it was love at first sight.”
“I don’t believe in love at first sight.” Finnegan said.
“Not until it happens to you.” Dante said. “You’d better start reading my love sonnets, that will turn your mind towards romance.”
“They really are beautiful.” Nora said. “There is one called For my Nora, Dante wrote it for me.”
Dante caressed her cheek. “All my poems are for you.”
Finnegan stood up. “I’ll see you tomorrow Dante.” He extended his hand. Dante and Nora got to their feet. The air seemed to be humming in her ears. She couldn’t believe that Dante didn’t notice. Dante and Finnegan shook hands. The lawyer turned to Nora. “I suppose you’ll be there too?” he asked sourly.
“No. I have the house to tend.”
“You should come for dinner some evening Finnegan.” Dante told him. “Nora is an excellent cook.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“I won’t take no for an answer.” Dante said enthusiastically. “One night in our love nest and you’ll be looking for a wife of your own.”
“Yes, we would love to have you Mr. Murphy, and you can tell us about yourself.” Nora said. It would be a good way to find out more about him.
“What do you want to know?”
“Uh.” She was a curious person, people often called her nosy. “I was just wondering where you came from, if you had any family around here. And your eyes are so green, they’re very unusual. I just thought-” She wasn’t sure if she should say the word enchanter or not.
“Thought what?” Finnegan crossed his arms.
“I don’t know.” She sighed. “I’m sorry Mr. Murphy, I’m just interested in people.”
“There’s nothing remotely interesting about me Mrs. Gavrashelli. Now if you don’t mind I do have another appointment.”
Dante and Nora left his office. Finnegan’s secretary smirked as they passed through the waiting area and went outside. Nora took Dante’s arm and they began strolling down the sidewalk. “Are you sure Mr. Murphy isn’t an enchanter?” she asked him.