The Girl with Stars in her Hair

by Alexes Razevich

  Stop acting like a baby, I told myself. All this berating yourself isn’t accomplishing a thing.

  I took another swallow of soda, surprised that the next thought that came to me was Talk to Pax.

  I needed to tell someone what had happened, that much at least had come clear to me now, lest it chase around and around in my mind forever. Pax was a good choice, I thought. He seemed a steady-hand-on-the-tiller sort, something in between Diana’s cool, clinical eye and Mother’s natural tendency to support me no matter what. I finished the Coke, returned the bottle to the thin woman, and headed to Hermosa.

  Of course, Pax had left Kerwin’s by the time I arrived. I went to the Berth Hotel, but Jack Masters, who was working the desk, looked over his shoulder and said, “The room key is here. He must be out.”

  Disappointed, but at least no longer full of fury, I headed home. Scout needed a walk—a nice calm one. It’d be good for both of us.

  Pax was sitting in one of the white wicker chairs on the porch when I got there. He rose when he saw me coming and doffed his straw boater.

  “What are you doing here?” I said in a surprised-to-see-you voice.

  He held his hat loosely at one side. “I spotted you this morning hiking up Santa Fe Avenue as if the street was on fire a block behind you,” he said. “I thought you might like some company.”

  “Thank you,” I said, fishing in my handbag for the house key. “I could. Yes.”

  I found the key and opened the front door. Scout was waiting in the foyer, her tail wagging. I knelt down, rubbed her chest, and said hello, sorry now that I’d virtually ignored her in my stew this morning.

  “I’ll put the kettle on,” I said as I stood, and directed Pax with my eyes into the parlor. Scout followed me to the kitchen. I scratched behind her ears and gave her a biscuit while waiting for the water to boil.

  I brought two cups of strong, sweet tea and a plate of sugar cookies and set them on the end table next to the sofa. I handed Pax his cup, took my own and sat in the chair facing him. Pax held his cup in his lap and looked at me.

  “Something happened after I left last night,” he said, making it a firm statement, no question in his voice.

  I lowered my cup and sighed. “I couldn’t sleep. I went down to the water.”

  Pax set his cup on the side table and leaned toward me, listening.

  “I went down to the water,” I began again. “I was thinking ahead to the day when I’d call the gremhahn, break the spells and get my brother back and—” I cleared my throat. “I didn’t realize I was doing it, but I spoke the calling spell out loud.”

  He took that in. “And what happened?”

  I laughed ruefully. “The spell worked. I guess I should be glad for knowing that.”

  He had his eyes fixed on my mouth, seeing as well as hearing my words—as if he wanted to be extra sure he got them correct.

  “Jimmy isn’t in a shell,” I said. “The gremhahn had turned him into a seal, the same as you’d told me. I guess the folktales are true.”

  “They often are,” Pax said.

  I folded my arms over my chest, as if that would keep anger and grief from tearing me apart. “I couldn’t make the gremhahn turn him back.” Tears sprung to my eyes. “My brother was right there in front of me and I had to leave him on the beach because I’d assumed the binding spell could make the sea goblin turn my brother back into a boy.”

  Pax nodded, but said, “Why didn’t it work?”

  “The goblin said that once Jimmy was changed, he couldn’t change him back. I guess his was a one-way spell.”

  “There’s a Scottish tale like that,” he said, his voice soft and calming. “A peasant, out poaching one day, stumbles into the part of the forest where an ogre is chained to a tree. The peasant says if the ogre will change the peasant’s pocketfuls of dirt into pocketfuls of gold, the peasant will free the ogre. The ogre does, but the peasant runs off, leaving the ogre chained up. The ogre can’t do anything about it because changing the dirt was one-way magic. The moral of the story is that no one can think of everything.”

  His words eased my guilt, but they didn’t solve the problem.

  “There has to be a way to change Jimmy back, or there’s no point to any of this,” I said. “If the stories say the stolen children can be returned to their families so long as a year hasn’t passed, there must be a way to restore them. How is that done?”

  Pax took a sip of tea before he answered. “I don’t know. The stories gloss over that part, saying something along the lines of ‘And the child was returned to its natural state’ without explaining how it happened.”

  I stared at him. Was he trying to tell me it was hopeless, that I should give up? If he thought I would, he didn’t know me at all.

  “I have magic, Pax. I’ll make the sea goblin return my brother.”

  He hiked one shoulder in a half-shrug of agreement. “Perhaps you should go see Diana. Tell her what happened. She’ll help if she can.”

  I nodded, glumly. I didn’t much fancy telling her what a fool I’d been, but I’d have to take my lumps about it.

  “I’m sorry, but I should be going,” he said, setting down his cup and saucer and coming to his feet. “I have an appointment with an old friend.”

  “Oh,” I said, disappointed. If there was ever a time I needed company, this was it. I hadn’t told him yet about the gremhahn becoming an albatross or how I’d fallen into the sea and was rescued by a seal.

  Scout nosed the back of my knee. I reached back and stroked her head, wondering what other tricks the sea goblin had that I needed to prepare for. As Pax had said, no one can think of everything.

  “Cassie,” he said. “Whatever happens, in the end you will prevail. Trust yourself.”

  I smiled weakly. “Thank you.”

  At the door, he kissed me lightly on the corner of my mouth and said, “Talk to Diana.”

  *

  Diana’s red door seemed more forbidding than friendly as I stood on the porch, hesitant. The door swung open just as I was steeling myself to knock, and I saw the surprised look on Diana’s face. She hid it well. It lasted only an instant as she said goodbye to a woman not much older than myself, wearing a blue-and-white-striped visiting dress. I assumed she was a client from the brief conversation between them.

  “Come in,” Diana said when the woman had reached the street. “You look like you have something to say.”

  I didn’t know if it was good or bad that I was so transparent.

  I sat on the sofa in the parlor and told Diana all that had happened with the gremhahn. I saw frustration in her narrowed eyes and in the tightening of her mouth while I spoke. When I finished, she was silent.

  “Honestly, Cassie,” she said finally. “If you saving your brother wasn’t ordained, I wouldn’t teach you another thing. When this is over, I may put a spell of forgetfulness on you and wipe out all your magical knowledge. I don’t think you can be trusted with it.”

  I held my head high. I’d done nothing to be ashamed of—not the way she was thinking of it. “I haven’t misused the magic. I’ve been underprepared, but no one can think of everything. And—I did think of something. A way to save Jimmy without the sea goblin’s help.”

  Her eyebrows shot upward. “Oh?”

  I was a little proud of myself for having thought of this on the way over and could hear the excitement in my voice when I spoke.

  “I learned this morning that Jimmy isn’t under the gremhahn’s control. Once the goblin turned Jimmy into a seal, he lost all power over him. So, I can use the calling spell to bring my brother to me. All I need is to learn a spell that will undo the enchantment.”

  “All you need,” Diana said with a scoff. “Unfortunately doing that still takes three, just as it takes three for curse breaking, and your mother—”

  I knew the rest of it: Mother wasn’t ready and Pax couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help.

  “Why do the spells to take off the curses and to restore
Jimmy take three?” I asked, hearing the frustration in my own voice. It seemed I could do everything else necessary by myself, but these two things needed help.

  “Because it is much easier to do than to undo,” she said.

  I scratched at the back of my head, thinking. My fingers caught on a star and I pulled my hand away.

  “What about your nephew?” I said. “The one I brought with the calling spell. He’s studying magic. Could he be the third?”

  Diana shook her head. “It has to be you and Audrey.”

  “Family members only?”

  “Not necessarily, but emotionally involved,” she said. “That kind of magic—breaking curses and undoing a spell that has passed out of the control of the original caster—depends much on emotional connections. If you hired three random mages to do the job, they wouldn’t be able to change your brother back because they’d have no heart in the magic.”

  “Jimmy only has a few days left,” I said.

  “I know,” she said.

  I took one of her hands in both of mine. “You have to ask Mother to do it. If she doesn’t feel ready, she’ll tell you. It has to be you that asks. If I ask, she’d say yes no matter what.”

  Diana gently freed her hand. “She’ll say yes no matter who asks her. Jimmy is her son.”

  “Then use magic to make her ready, to make her strong,” I said. “If she finds out later that we didn’t do everything possible to save Jimmy—”

  My voice trailed off. The rest of that sentence was she’d never forgive herself.

  I think Diana had realized the truth of my unspoken words herself. She was quiet a long moment.

  “There is a spell that will give your mother the strength she needs,” she said, “but afterwards—”

  “Afterwards what?”

  “It’ll burn up all the magic that’s in her.”

  Worry shot through me. “Burn up?”

  Diana shook her head. “She won’t feel any pain, but her magic will be completely gone. Completely destroyed.”

  I bit my bottom lip. “Magic makes her sick anyway. She’ll likely be glad to be rid of it.”

  Diana half nodded. “You might be right. It might even be a favor for her.”

  “You can ask,” I said, but I knew Mother would say yes. Even if giving up magic broke her heart, getting Jimmy back would mend it, and then some. I knew my mother well enough to know which choice she would make.

  “Wait here a moment,” Diana said, and disappeared toward the back of the house.

  I heard her rummaging around in a rear room I’d never been in. She came back carrying a large book bound in old brown leather. There was writing of some sort in gold on the spine in words I couldn’t read. Diana had her finger stuck in the book, marking a place. She opened it, read to herself, then nodded.

  “On page 386 is a spell you’ll need to make sure the gremhahn won’t come back and bother you in the future,” she said.

  I’d worried about that. We could get Jimmy back, but what was to stop the goblin from showing up the next day and taking him again, or stop him from adding more curses on top of the ones already leveled on Mother and me?

  “What sort of spell is it?” I asked.

  “It’s usually used when a man or woman wants to end unwanted attention from the opposite sex—it dissolves the other person’s passion. But I think it will also dissolve the sea goblin’s obsession with you and Audrey—because clearly he does have some fascination for you two, or he would have been gone long ago.”

  The thought sent shivers down my spine.

  “I think you’re right about the goblin hating Mother and me, probably because Mother trapped and beat him.” My voice dropped low. “I think he tried to kill me this morning.”

  Diana’s eyes widened.

  “A seal saved me,” I said.

  “Cassie, back up,” she said. “What do you mean the gremhahn tried to kill you?”

  I told her the story. Deep creases formed in her forehead as she listened.

  “Let me think on the curse problem,” she said, handing me the book. “In the meantime, learn the spell by heart.”

  She patted the book in my hands as if taking leave of a good friend. “Go home. I’ll call you after I’ve spoken with your mother.”

  *

  Two days went by with no word from Diana. When I phoned Mother, no one answered. I practiced the new spell and tried not to worry. Mother had her own busy life, but even when I telephoned late in the evening, she didn’t pick up. That wasn’t like her.

  On the morning of the third day, Pax came by.

  “Did you bring your car?” I said before I’d even completely opened the front door.

  He looked momentarily surprised but quickly regained his composure.

  “Is there somewhere you’d like to go?”

  “I’ve been calling my mother for two days, but there’s no answer. I’m worried something has happened to her. I was going to take the Red Car over but would appreciate it if you’d drive me to her house.”

  His brow had furrowed while I talked. “Of course,” he said.

  If people stared at us as we drove by in his blood-red speedster, I didn’t notice. All I could think about was Mother lying hurt in the house or yard, or some other misfortune that might have befallen her. Pax tended to drive fast, but now I wished he’d go even faster.

  The moment he stopped in front of the house, I jumped free of the car and ran toward the door. I was just opening it when Mother came around from the side of the house. Dressed in a pair of Father’s old trousers, one of his shirts, and thick gardening gloves, she carried a flat of purple-and-yellow pansies.

  “I’ve been calling for days,” I said. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried half out of my wits.”

  Mother laughed quietly to herself and came toward me. “Here and there, Cassie. I’m sorry if you were worried but as you can see, I’m quite well.”

  This must happen to every child, I suddenly thought—the moment when you realize your parent is a full person in their own right, with their own life. Funny how we fight so hard to be seen as independent and capable ourselves, but don’t allot the same consideration to a parent.

  Mother set the flat of flowers down. “Now, why have you been trying so desperately to reach me?”

  From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Pax on the sidewalk. He nodded to me, then walked away, giving me time alone with Mother.

  “Have you spoken with Diana?” I asked.

  Mother removed her gardening gloves. “Why?”

  I’d rather hoped that Diana had already told Mother about my mess-up with the gremhahn, and that I wouldn’t have to admit it to her myself. I took a breath and heaved it out.

  “I accidently called the sea goblin and tried to get Jimmy returned to us, but the goblin has turned Jimmy into a seal and can’t change him back. I’ve figured a way to lift the spell from Jimmy, I think, but I want to also lift the curses the gremhahn put on you and me, and that has to be done first. Diana says it takes three to do that, but you’re not strong enough yet. She can push your strength, but it will wipe out all your magic.”

  Mother squatted and fiddled with the pansies. I waited, letting her think. She stood again. “Of course I’ll help. Being rid of magic for good won’t grieve me, and even if it did—”

  Her voice trailed off, but I knew the rest of it: She’d do it to get Jimmy back.

  “Diana and I discussed this, and we hope you agree,” she said. “We’d like to confront the gremhahn Thursday.”

  A thrill of nerves shot up my breastbone. Thursday was two days away.

  Seventeen

  Hermosa Beach, California

  July 10, 1924

  10:45 a.m. 10:46. 10:47. Mother and Diana were to meet me at the house at 11:30. I couldn’t stand the waiting. I wrote On the beach on a half-sheet of paper, told Scout to stay, and pinned the note to the front door.

  The day was fine, the sun a hazy yellow marble in a c
loudless blue sky. To the north, the beach was already crowded with people near the pier. Not that many people had staked out spots in front of my house, but there were more than I wanted. I cast a dampening spell and watched as people who’d been perfectly happy with their places on the sand began to look around, suddenly uncomfortable, then pack up and leave. The dampening spell would keep any newcomers away as well. I layered a cloaking spell on top, to make me invisible to anyone glancing across this section of beach, and walked down to the water.

  The ocean held its usual summer calmness, small waves coming in and exhausting themselves on the shore. Pelicans in a V-formation flew overhead, heading south toward Redondo Beach. Sandpipers ran along the waterline, pecking at the light layer of film that covered the wet sand. Seagulls cried overhead at their brethren on the land.

  “Shoo,” I said, turning in a circle and waving my arms at the gulls standing near me. I didn’t think every gull was the gremhahn’s spy, but I disliked them all on principle.

  In the midst of my turn I saw Diana coming across the sand toward me. I glanced at my wristwatch. 11:15. She was early. Mother should be here soon. Nerves shot through me. This was the day and soon would be the moment to confront the sea goblin, when we three, working in concert, would break the curses and get Jimmy back.

  My heart thumped and my stomach knotted as I ran through the spells in my head again. I was as ready as I could be and still feared I wasn’t ready enough. Diana came up on my left side but said nothing. Her gaze was fixed out across the water.

  “Have you used the strength spell with Mother?” I asked.

  Diana nodded, but didn’t look at me. I followed her gaze. The waves were small but hitting harder when they broke then they had a few minutes earlier. A sudden, strong wind picked up. My straw hat blew off and tumbled down the shore. Thick drifts of sand blew into my face. I closed my eyes against the gritty assault.

  When I opened them again, the sea goblin, in his Dr. Gremhahn guise, stood only feet away from us. My stomach lurched. His gaze was focused behind Diana and me, and it was ugly. I glanced over my shoulder toward the Strand. Mother was picking her way across the beach toward us, her shoes in her hand. I started the binding spell to put the goblin in thrall to me and under my command.