Oculus

by S. E. Akers

  I held up the bouquet of roses and cream. “I thought these might be a nice addition to my bath later. Something a little different,” I fibbed. “The salt tends to be a bit drying.” Now that one was the honest truth. I’d soaked in enough of it lately to know.

  Silas stepped closer, his gaze narrowing. “Why do I get the feeling that a girly spa-soak is the last thing on your agenda this evening?”

  I shrugged. “Because you’re always ready to assume the worst about me?” What else could it have been? I’d purposely cleared any incriminating thoughts out of my head.

  “That’s not true,” he contested, almost sounding offended.

  “Whatever you say, Silas,” I said. “You’re always right about everything.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, “but that’s beside the point. I don’t have that low of an opinion of you.”

  The weight of my cross stance shifted after a doubtful rock of my head. “Really?” I questioned.

  “Not at all,” he insisted. “It’s simply not a very high one right now.”

  And with the smack of that sucker-punch, I rolled my eyes and grumbled off down the hall.

  Now knowing that Silas would be stirring about somewhere downstairs I made a contentious note to be extra-quiet and to flip the lock on the library doors. I sure didn’t want to prove his suspicions right for a second time in less than two days.

  I deposited my loot on the worktable and then started gathering up the rest of the things I needed from the cupboards. Once everything was in hand, it was time to kick off this party with a formal invitation.

  I wasn’t sure what element my faery claimed, so I gave the summoning spell a little added insurance by selecting four things that signified each one. I placed a scoop of loose earth dug from a Brazilian jungle in one bowl, poured some water collected from the Dead Sea in another, lit a modest white pillar candle for a flame, and then blew a stream of air into a jar and dropped in a bunch of feathers. Those I’d pulled out of a pillow propped in one of the wingback chairs. I figured they would suffice since the recipe didn’t specify that those had to be “fresh”. Next, I positioned each of the elemental items on the table like the cardinal points on a compass, and then in the center, I laid the slice of vanilla pound cake and poured some cream into a small dish like I would for a kitten. Then to bind the spell, I cast a circle using a thick layer of the velvety rose petals, laying them out like the most diligent little flower girl.

  I stepped back and eyed my work with an excited gleam. I even snapped a picture so I could text it to Katie later I was that daggone proud.

  I hope it works as well as it looks…

  I cleared my throat and with a confident boom carrying my words said, “Modestia vestra nota sit a facie”, which essentially meant, “Let your presence be known” in the loveliest of dead languages. Then to complete my mystical request, I held up the ceremonial last ingredient and gave the little brass bell one solid and melodic “ring-a-ding”.

  Then I backed up and waited… And waited… And waited awhile longer to the nettling tune of my tapping feet. I finally had to pull up a chair ten minutes later, growing even more impatient but still as determined as ever. Something was going to go my way for a change. I swore my hair would turn gray before my rear would give up on this one. But most of all, I wasn’t exactly sure how long it took for Faeries to appear. They didn’t hang around all the time, despite their bond. Mine could have very well been busy, so I was giving it the benefit of the doubt. No one likes to be rushed anyway.

  My eyes gradually fluttered open to the sight of my arms pillowing my head on the table. I soon realized I’d been asleep for over an hour when I noticed the time on the face of the grandfather clock. Though I was relieved that the diamond hadn’t derailed my plans by dragging me off to The Darklands, I was still none too pleased with my surroundings. Everything arranged on the table was sitting just as I’d left it before nodding off—totally undisturbed—and not the first sign of any invisible faery. I scooted out my chair and pouted off to the half-bath for a quick nature-call. At least a part of me would feel a little lighter, even if my disappointment didn’t.

  With my business complete and hands clean, I pushed open the door and moped a path back to the table. My steps came to a jarring stop halfway there. Some of the pound cake was gone, at least a good quarter of it. My senses searched all around, trying to pick up anything emitting a Veil-like magical vibe. I didn’t detect a thing, not even any ordinary mammal brainwaves streaming from a gut-stuffed mouse. My stare returned to the cake where it was now slowly disappearing, crumb by crumb.

  So they are that tiny? Cautiously I slipped back into the chair, hoping not to spook the invisible being. The smoothness of my maneuver must have pacified the faery enough because it kept right on eating, even after I slowly waved my hands. It wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until the plate was clean. Now all I needed was for it to acknowledge me.

  “Hello?” I said uneasily. The gorging stopped immediately. I thought it had left until a glittery stream of golden letters appeared on the tabletop in front of me.

  So they were tiny, spoke English, and had good penmanship. This was kind of fun, so I continued. “What element do you claim?” I asked. Without any warning, the candle’s flame surged into the air like a fiery geyser and then dwindled back down to a quivering flicker.

  Fire? I honestly would have never guessed that one in a million years. With the air stones I now claimed, I figured my faery swung that way, but whatever. Suddenly all the dirt exploded out of the bowl. The earthy grains landed on the table, forming another message.

  My brain was still wrapping itself around the fact that there were two faeries when I heard a steady noise coming from behind me. I whipped around to the sink beside the cupboards. Water was gushing out of the faucet, running wide-open. I quickly turned back and sought out the glass jar. The feathers were twirling their way out of the container, dancing gracefully in the air.

  Needing to confirm my hunch, I asked, “How many of you are there?” The feathers answered my question by arranging themselves in midair.

  My back fell into a slight slump. Humph… Four faeries. Well it made perfect sense. Each Guardian would rightfully want their own personal pair of spying eyes. And despite the nag of paranoia I felt breathing down my neck like Jack the Ripper, at least I had some playmates to keep me company for a little while.

  Sitting quietly in my chair while watching cake and cream disappear wasn’t quite the magic act I’d envisioned when hatching this whole phone-a-faery-friend plan. My need for more interaction kept mounting with each nibble of cake and every lick of cream. It wasn’t long before a smile stretched across my face, courtesy of my mentor and all the additional homework he’d thrown at me last week. I’d learned from my nightly Veil-readings that it was possible to pinpoint an invisible being’s location. Nothing was absolutely one-hundred percent undetectable. Everything left some sort of evidence, whether on purpose or accidently—no matter how tiny its trace may be. Granted, I’d found that tidbit rather alarming at the time. However knowing how to search for invisible creatures made me much more conscious of my actions when cloaked under my own golden veil. You simply needed to hush your mind and attune all of your senses, individually. Things like watching how the light filtered through the air and paying attention to the way shadows shifted about. Sometimes you needed to look past the patterns lying on something’s surface and delve deeper into its arrangement to uncover a being, like the outline of an image hidden within a waterfall or a face camouflaged with the help a shrub’s artfully-placed leaves. Focusing on the mundane hum vibrating the air and then dissecting its sounds for any irregular noises could track a creature’s location just as accurately as catching the whiff of a scent that’s unmistakably out of place. Temperature changes were the best indicator, whether they were sweat-fueled spikes of heat or the iciest cold-spot smacking your nerves. My personal favorite was reading about what all those “pricks” & “pokes�
� needling your skin from out of nowhere really meant. Not a one of them—AT ANY GIVEN TIME—were merely erratic itches in need of a taming scratch. Something “otherworldly” was there and wanted you to know it. All a skilled enough person had to do was to allow their sixth-sense to take over and let it guide them to the creature’s presence.

  So it appeared that my emotional case of the blues had accidently birthed the perfect training session for hunting invisible Veil creatures and hadn’t spawned something that issued another backfiring slap — for once. The fact that I was now in possession of a legitimate excuse if Silas busted me was simply an added perk. I’d witnessed several peek-a-boo beasts during a few of my diamond visions over the past week and found myself speechless every time The Great Adamas knew exactly where the creatures had been hiding. I might not claim the illustrious notches on my belt that he had, but mastering a skill like this could certainly up my supernatural street-cred.

  Determined, I cleared my head and shut out the world as best I could. Then one by one, I began singling out and sharpening a few of my senses. Of course having a larimar and all its sensory enhancing abilities to turn me into a magical compass would have probably made the entire process a breeze. But that would never be, seeing how the curious little sexist stone was more out of my reach than I ever dreamed a tiger’s-eye could be.

  Since I already knew where the hungry little creatures were hovering, I focused on the area around the plate hoping to feel out their essences. Surely they left some sort of mystical hints radiating somewhere within the confines of the non-visible supernatural spectrum. Whether it was my tenacity or just plain old desperation keeping me centered, something eventually paid off. Just like the Veil journals had decreed, everything invisible most certainly had a tell. Their dangling shadows were the first things I was able to successfully discern, though the marks they left looked more like slight discolorations they were so faint. The more I expanded my focus, the easier it was to distinguish their distinct energies and track them as they floated throughout the room. Actually seeing their auras was another story. The amount of mental aim I had to use just to catch a glimmer of their mystical glows was excruciating. I thought my eardrums were going to explode the pressure had hurt that bad. So not to risk losing my hearing or triggering any raging nosebleeds, seeing their glittery orb-like halos only one time completely satisfied my curiosity.

  Now that the faeries knew I was trying to connect with them, they happily returned my intrigue with several feisty little taps. The Sylph even issued a few pinches — proving that there was always a rowdy one in every gang, even in a perky pack of faeries. I soon realized they weren’t so much socializing as they were trying to nudge me in the direction of what they wanted me to show them. That’s when I discovered how curious faeries were. But they weren’t interested in anything remotely magical. They were drawn to the more human articles scattered throughout the room, like random furnishings and all the functional items we took for granted. The Sylph kept moving the hands mounted on the face of the grandfather clock so the chimes would play over and over… The Nymph had to have flushed the toilet in the half-bath about fifty times… The Sprite kept messing with the lights, yo-yoing the level of light in the room from dark to blinding… However the Pixie sat quietly on my shoulder. I wasn’t sure if the Veil-being was simply watching the others or was just that daggone bored. Feeling the need to be an entertaining hostess, I sat down in front of the computer and gave the mouse a tap. The background screen image illuminated a lush forest scene with a bright and speedy flash of green. The faery had no sooner hopped off my shoulder when I heard a harsh “clank” striking the glass monitor. My shoulders rocked into a wince as soon as I spotted the shadow on the table directly beneath the screen. All I needed was a stick of white chalk and I could have outlined the Veil-being like a body laid-out at a crime scene. I only hoped the little thing didn’t have an itty-bitty concussion to go with its obvious approval.

  Soon all the faeries had drifted over to the computer and were now helplessly engrossed like the tiniest of techie couch-potatoes, which was evident from the four shadows dotting the tabletop. It wasn’t long before they wanted their own crack at the keyboard. The curious little creatures kept pulling up pictures of various nature scenes from around the world—mountainous jungles, sandy beaches, and breathtaking waterfalls—but a handful of bakery websites got their fair share of hits as well. The sugar-junkies landed on so many of them they even had my sweet-tooth aching, especially since they hadn’t left the slightest crumb of pound cake on the plate. I finally had to take over the keyboard when the gnaw inside my belly had reached its peak. Then on a whim, I typed in, “FIREWORKS”, clicked on a gallery of images, and then pointed to the screen. Suddenly the whisper of a “pop” drew my attention towards the center of the room. A miniature version of a fireworks cascade was bursting in the air above the table, dripping in sparkly warm hues. I stood up and clapped, totally impressed. My linked Sprite must have been pleased by my ovation because several more explosions swiftly followed its opening performance, which only got grander after every “boom”. I blew a stream of air towards the switch plate and doused the lights. With its stage properly set, the Sprite then commenced with a mesmerizing array of colorful sprays that rocketed all around the room. The smile I was beaming had hoisted my cheeks high enough to crinkle my eyes. There were the fireworks I’d been yearning for all day, and they were the most dazzling spectacle I’d ever seen.

  Suddenly a raging stream of water shot through the air, gunning for the sparkly performance — courtesy of the Nymph. Once all the brilliant sparks had been extinguished, the rushing water dove towards the floor and then unexpectedly burst back into the air like a shimmery fountain. Apparently it was someone else’s turn to show-off. The lively waterworks carried on throughout my rounds of hand-smacking praise until a stout breeze started beating the dancing sheets, driving them down until they were nothing but a puddle on the floor. My claps fizzled to a halt when I located the little air elemental. The Sylph wasn’t playing very nice at all.

  The jolting sound of an unexpected “CRASH” jerked my stare back to the computer. The monitor was lying on the floor with a smashed screen, though it was still working. I stepped closer to see a YouTube video being streamed. The clip that was playing immediately socked my insides with the worst foreboding feeling. It was a compilation that someone had made of the reality show, Ax Men, and they were chopping down an unsettling amount of trees in every scene. Lining up the little elementals to single out a “faery-of-interest” was pointless. I already knew all the guilt lay with the earth elemental Pixie and was mindful of how mad the green & leafy massacre had made it from the evidence of its tiny nature-lovin’ tantrum.

  I swiftly made my way around the room scanning for the pissed-off Pixie. However, my search was abruptly sidetracked by a fight that had broken out between the Sprite and Nymph, all because they were each trying to out-do the other with their talents. When the Sprite had finally had enough of the Nymph’s antics, the aggravated fire elemental blasted a wicked streak of flames its way. Normally I would have cheered on the payback, except the damn thing set the chair on fire and then everything else in its wake trying to chase down the water elemental as it zipped throughout the room. I was staring at a highway of bonfires and frozen in a sheer state of disbelief when a conk on the back of my head finally snapped me out of my daze. I turned to find one of the heavier books lying beside me on the floor. Then I lifted my gaze towards the towering levels of bookcases. Grimoires and journals were flying off the shelves and soaring every which way. The mess the Pixie was making was bad enough, but the added kindling they provided when landing in the various fires burning below swiftly turned the blazes into a raging inferno.

  Oh NO…

  “PUT THEM OUT!” I yelled to the water elemental and pointed to the flames. The Nymph graciously accommodated my request by busting the faucet off the sink and then conjuring a tidal wave of water that it used
to violently swamp the entire room.

  Ass down on the ground and lungs hacking for air, I flipped back my drenched locks and took a staggering breath. Another book struck my head, forcing me onto my feet in an angry huff. I had to bind their powers before they faery-nuked the entire room.

  I raced over to the cupboards and started opening up doors left and right in a frantic search for some faery-foiling lemon oil. No sooner than I’d located the vial of yellow-tinged liquid and pulled out its cork, the Sylph came along with a gust that blew it slick out of my hand. Then the air elemental conjured a relentless gale that ripped its way through the room. The ferocious winds forced all the door panels to fly open and sent every last glass container crashing throughout the room. I began surveying the damage when I sensed the winds starting to dwindle. Shards of glass and a thick haze of herbs swirled around the room while the sound of more books smacking the ground kept tirelessly quaking the air like base-thumping surround-sound.

  Shit.

  I hurried towards the library doors, knowing my only chance was to run up to the kitchen and grab some lemons out of the crisper. Unfortunately the knobs wouldn’t turn, even after I’d unlatched the lock with a flip. I couldn’t even blast them open with one of my own gusts. That’s when I realized my little buddies had spelled the daggone things shut. I whipped around in a livid spin and then stormed back to the center of the room, stumbling over mounds of books and slipping on their slick leather covers. I begged the faeries to stop one more time, but they simply wouldn’t listen or were having too much twisted fun to care. My stomach churned as I panned the room, feeling completely aghast. I couldn’t believe this was happening—on top of the week I’d had—and there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop the swing of this wrecking ball in its tracks.