by Al K. Line
"Yes," was all she said.
"Why? What on earth makes you think he's carrying on with someone else?"
"Because I can smell perfume on him. He could be up to anything the amount of time he spends away from home. Now he's worse than ever, hardly ever there, and it's driving me crazy. I can't think straight."
I thought before I answered, something I'd been told was a good idea so figured what the hell and gave it a try. "Tell me something. If he is, and I'm not saying he is, and don't believe he is, then what? Would you be upset because your marriage was over? Or would you be sad because your pride was hurt? Would it mean the end of your marriage?"
Vicky was silent for the longest time, then whispered, "It would mean I'm not good enough." Then she cried, standing with her shoulders slumped like a child with a mug of cooling tea that looked huge, all crumpled up on herself, frail and awkward, her confidence shot to pieces. All because a man she disliked more than loved, despised more than adored, might have gone searching elsewhere for something he acted like he didn't even want at home.
But that's men for you. We're complicated, and usually we have no idea what we want, or how to get it. And even when we have it, we do stupid stuff and ruin it.
It's genetic, or we're just all idiots. You decide.
Doing My Best
"So it wouldn't be the betrayal, the breaking of your vows? It would be because it would damage you, make you feel bad about yourself?"
"Yes. No. Oh, I don't know." Vicky's tears turned to sobs. Great, body trembling, loud, eye-rolling, dramatic sobs. This wasn't the first time she'd got like this, and I knew perfectly well what it was all about.
"Listen up, and listen good," I said, ignoring the tears even though they broke my heart. "You're a mess. You aren't eating and your body is screwed. It sends your brain funny, makes you get all kinds of weird ideas. Remember that time you thought the girls were trying to kill you? You were paranoid and half crazy because you got so obsessed about some damn play they were in that you didn't eat and didn't sleep and you lost the plot. This is like that. Er, only different."
Vicky wiped her eyes on her sleeve and said, "How'd you mean?"
"Guilt." I leaned back against the counter and downed my cold tea just for something to do, and maybe to hide my face.
"About what?" she asked, surprised.
"Because you don't love him any more and you want to leave him. Maybe about me, that kiss."
"Arthur, I was pleased to see you, that's all."
I'd thought a lot about it, and still wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or if her feelings, however much she wanted to deny them, were deeper than I'd thought. Hell, I was confused myself, because my body had reacted in a way that meant I was game for a little naughtiness at the time, although I would never, ever, get involved with Vicky and honestly hadn't thought of her like that anyway.
"You sure?" I asked nervously.
"Yes."
"Okay, but I'm still right. You moan about him, keep saying you feel trapped, you do this crazy stuff with me, the computer hacking, and now you're starving yourself. This has nothing to do with him and what he may or may not be up to, which I can guarantee you is nothing or not what you think. It's because you don't love him but can't bear to think of breaking up because it's the life you've always known."
"No, that isn't true. I... He... We're husband and wife and..." She couldn't continue. I didn't blame her. Vicky was roughly my age, and half her life had been spent with this man. She'd fallen for him then found herself in a suburban hell of her own making.
Part of her reveled in being the perfect mom and wife, but more rebelled. She wasn't like the other housewives however hard she tried to emulate them. She was better, and she wanted something different, and now things were coming to a head.
"Ask him. Better yet, tell him how you feel. See what he says."
"What if it's true?"
"Then you can leave, or get him to leave, without feeling guilty for breaking up your family."
"Gee, thanks, you've made me feel so much better."
"Or, you can carry on as you are, and then one day you will die." It was harsh, but it was the truth. Most people, handsome wizards excluded, got one shot at life, and most blew it spectacularly. Me, and Vicky, we played with portals and stole magical artifacts from dangerous people and sold the things to even more dangerous characters. That's just the kind of numpties we were.
The sooner Vicky accepted that, the better off we'd all be. Me, her, her husband, her kids, everyone.
There was a knock at the door. I stood and said, "That'll be the removal guys. Sasha should be here by now, wonder what's keeping her?"
Even as I spoke, faery dust danced in the gloom of the kitchen and a vision in spangly gold walked in the back door, or should I say through it.
"He's right," said Sasha. "For once."
"About which part?" asked Vicky, smiling despite her sadness and confusion.
"The Slug, oops, Harry, isn't having an affair. He's merely an utterly self-obsessed, weak, spineless, horrid man who doesn't know how good he has it and doesn't deserve to have the family he has."
"Nice one, faery godmother," I moaned, as Vicky burst into tears and I went to answer the front door.
The Big Move
Who do you trust? It's a simple question. Most people have at least one person they trust implicitly. If you ask them for help they'll give it gladly. You know they'd never give up your secrets and for that you are eternally grateful.
But does that mean you should entrust them with something? Absolutely not. Finding someone to move the gate was problematic. I didn't want anyone apart from Vicky, Sasha, and George to know where it would be placed, and I wasn't even happy about that. Why? Because when other people want to know your secrets, letting those closest and dearest to you share those secrets puts them in danger.
Trust is one thing, risking the lives of friends and family quite another. Although reluctant, I had to tell the three darling ladies, but that was as far as it would go.
Then came the actual move itself. More secrets. Getting from point A to point B without being seen was no easy thing no matter the time of day or night. In the end Sasha came up with the perfect plan and I was confident it would work.
I still had to find two strong and able bodies to move the huge slabs, no way did I want to manhandle them alone, and Vicky couldn't even lift her own feet far off the floor in her current state.
While she faced up to the reality of her situation, I answered the door and let in the two helpers I'd finally settled on. These were not your swarthy individuals, your young brutes or trainee wizards willing to do anything to get a glimpse of my cool stuff. Nobody in the community had known about the gates, let alone that I had them, and even now that knowledge was limited to the vampires and Cerberus, hence the move.
No, what greeted me instead were two very old, very short, very, shall we say wizened individuals. Heavy on the hair and staffs, complete with ragged wizardly robes, looking about as able to haul chunks of rock in and out of vans as Vicky with her hands tied behind her back.
"Hey, Kid," said Varela.
"Nice day for it," added Nohr happily.
"Hey, guys. Thanks for this, I really appreciate it."
"You know us, always out for excitement," said Nohr, shoving me against the wall so he could get past. "Ooh, look at this, Varela, he's really got it."
"Lemme see, shift over." One shoved the other and vice-versa and the two ancient wizards bickered and jostled and generally fussed about like the daft old gits they undoubtedly were.
It was impossible not to smile, and it was impossible not to marvel at the fact they were still alive.
Wizards lived a long time if they managed to avoid being blasted, eaten by a beastie, getting offed by their peers or enemies—of which most had many—or didn't just get themselves killed in one ingenious and spectacular way or another as they grew more powerful over the years. Meaning, most wizards n
ever made it past eighty or so even though they could live for many centuries if they avoided the obvious and not so obvious pitfalls. Our profession made this pretty much unavoidable.
Me, I planned on living forever, but it didn't quite work out that way.
We all stood in the plaster and marveled at the large lumps covered in plastic. Feeling bad, and with the two old dudes getting edgier by the second, I unwrapped a few pieces so they could see the carvings. There were a lot of oohs and aahs and speculation over their meaning, and I have to admit I was a little disappointed that the work was as indecipherable to these two as to me.
"So, you know the plan?" I asked, wrapping the stone back up.
"Sure do," said Varela, rolling up his sleeves that promptly fell right back down. That's the problem with your oversized wizard cloaks, not the best for jobs like this.
"Right, let's get this over with." Nohr shuffled slowly to the front door and spread his arms wide then began mumbling, the words further muffled as they passed through a beard as mysterious as his age. His staff waved wildly and his hair blew like he was in a storm. He loved the drama, it's what kept him going at his age.
Old school wizards were very different to modern ones, and he was about as O.G. as they got.
Varela tutted beside me, and rolled his eyes. "He hasn't got out much lately. Thanks for this, Arthur."
"My pleasure. You guys are doing me a favor here, but I figured if anyone could do this job then it would be you two."
"Plus you know we won't squeal, right?" he said, waggling an eyebrow bushier and more excitable than a dog's tail.
"Haha, there is that."
Nohr came back into the hallway, the air shimmering behind him. "Right, nobody will see anything. Pretty good veil even if I do say so myself. Anyone tries to come close or walk past and they'll be compelled to cross the road. Plus," he added with a flourish of his staff, the effect spoiled when he hit the wall of the narrow hallway and scowled at it, "we'll just look like regular removal men if anyone does see us."
"Good job." I kept my laughter inside as they may have been comical but they were also extremely powerful and took offense easily.
"Let's do this." They spread their arms and wiggled their fingers, their favorite move, and the first package rose like it weighed nothing. It traveled down the hall, out the door, then was lost to sight as it turned. A moment later there was a dull thud, presumably as it landed in the back of the van.
Five minutes later everything was loaded; my hallway looked bare without it. The wizards slapped each other on the back and talked about the Gate, speculating on its provenance and generally wasting time while I tapped my foot in the dust.
Then the kitchen door opened and their conversation was cut short as Sasha, followed by a rather red-eyed Vicky, came to join us.
Wizards like them didn't get to meet many citizens, not that Vicky really was one any more, and they certainly didn't meet many uber-hot faeries in hallways. Those kind of encounters were for the younger crowd. At their age they were so immersed in the life of magic they forgot about females and all the joy they could bring. All the misery too.
It showed.
They shoved and elbowed each other in a rush to greet Sasha, and she handled it well by not squishing them or being anything but polite, even flirted a little.
"Ooh, so lovely," said Nohr.
"And so soft. Look at her curves, you could eat your dinner off them." Varela licked his lips and Nohr slapped him across the back of his head.
"Don't be so rude, she can hear you."
"I can, and you should learn some manners Varela. I remember you when you were but a little boy, running around with your tiny willy hanging out, waving sticks about and dreaming of being a wizard. You behave." Sasha smiled down at him and he practically melted with glee at being rebuked by a genuine faery, especially at such close quarters.
It had clearly been longer than I'd believed since they'd had the company of anything apart from wizards or the beasties from the darker side of the Nolands.
"Hi, I'm Vicky."
"Wow, you've got it made, Arthur. Two lovely ladies to keep you company. What did you do to deserve this?" Varela wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Vicky and she tittered.
"I honestly don't know what I did to deserve this." I really didn't.
On the Road
It felt kinda sad to lock up the house knowing I'd never return. I'd get it cleaned and leave it in the hands of professionals to sell. Time to move on. With a final wave I said goodbye as we turned a corner and pulled out into light traffic.
Varela and Nohr were as happy as wizards could be, squashed into the front cab as they were with Vicky on one side and Sasha on the other.
"You guys have done me a real favor, but you know this is strictly between us, right? Nobody is ever to know I have the portals."
"We know," they chorused, more intent on fondling thighs than worrying about spies.
"Good."
"Won't it be easy for someone to follow us, though?" asked Vicky, trying to move her leg from Nohr's wandering hands with little success. He grinned at her and winked; she scowled and ignored him.
"Aha, that's where my dear faery godmother comes in. You ready?" I turned to Sasha and she smiled sweetly. "Everyone hold on," I warned.
The road shimmered like a heat haze then reality was ripped apart as a black, ragged tear appeared directly ahead, the human world seemingly torn aside, replaced with a vision of perfection that took my breath away. Everyone gasped as I put my foot down and we hurtled through the disruption to reality and powered into the Nolands.
"Whee," cried Varela.
"Been ages since I've been to the nice bits," hollered Nohr, taking the opportunity to squeeze Vicky's thigh harder.
"Hey!" Vicky was distracted by the bouncing of the truck as we rumbled over rough terrain, grass so lush, green, and perfect it made my head ache. Above was a dazzling blue sky, and the landscape was gentle rolling hills with trees so majestic and healthy they made you want to sing or learn to play the harp or something.
"It's beautiful," gasped Vicky, leaning over me to get a better look, although why she couldn't just look out the windscreen I had no idea.
"It's home," said Sasha, unimpressed.
"And it's time to go," I said, aiming for another tear in reality off to the right a little.
For five beautiful seconds we drove our belching, noxious vehicle through a visionary landscape and then we were back to our own world, everything dull and disappointing in comparison. I slowed then pulled over to the side of the road.
"We're here," I said.
"I have to go," said Sasha.
"You sure you don't want to hang around?" I asked, wishing she could stay as I hadn't seen much of her lately.
"No thank you, I have a prior engagement. The wards are already in place, Arthur. Add yours to mine and your new house will be as safe as your home."
"Thanks for this, I appreciate it." I truly did. Nobody would have followed us, they couldn't, and I already felt a burden lifted knowing our future was more secure.
"My pleasure." Everything shimmered for a moment, vision clouded, and when it cleared all that remained of Sasha was faery dust sparkling in the afternoon sunlight.
"Such a hottie," said Nohr.
"With a serious rack on her," agreed Varela.
I sighed and got out; Vicky was right behind me.
I smiled at the new place. It was pretty smart and the street was quiet. Wanting to get this over with, I unlocked the door, stepped inside, and without further ado blocks of plastic-covered rock followed me in.
From the neighbors' point of view it would look like a team of regular removal men, the horny wizards were that good, and in minutes the job was done and we were sipping coffee in the spacious living room.
"Okay, guys, you know the drill." I stood and they reluctantly got up.
"It was worth it," said Nohr, eyes sparkling.
"Definitely," ag
reed Varela. "Especially for this." He stepped up to Vicky and before she knew what was happening he grabbed her head and kissed her hard. Then he pinched her bum.
"Hey!"
"Sorry, but if I'm gong to forget everything then I can't be blamed either."
Magic welled up and out from my core. It steamed around the wizards' heads and, reluctantly, they breathed deep, accepting the spell as they'd promised they would.
Moments later it was done.
They shook their shaggy manes in a daze, ignored us, and left.
"What was that all about?" asked Vicky.
"Extra precaution. The guys were up for a little adventure but knew they'd never remember some of it. They know they helped me move, but their minds will be blank from the moment we came back through from the Nolands. They'll go home and won't recall where they came from, so whatever happens, they can never say where this place is."
"You think you need to be that paranoid?"
"Only if the buggers really are out to get me. And they most definitely are."
"That was cool. Apart from the groping." Vicky smiled and I smiled back. I'd done it, with a little help from friends, and now all I had to do was put the damn gate back together again.
It was early evening by the time it was done, and I forewent the plastering for some board I nailed to the frame I'd already installed. Now it just needed a coat of paint and nobody would be any the wiser.
Only difference to last time was I put the gate at the far end of the house, using one of the doors that led to the small garden, so at least now when I came through I could make a cuppa if I fancied one.
Time to go home. It had been a busy day.
Home
"Ready?" I put out my hand and Vicky took it without hesitation. I was surprised she was coming, but she'd been adamant that while the children were away at camp for the weekend she wouldn't stay home and let the Slug—damn, what was his name?—make her feel bad.