by Aria Sparke
* * *
Later that evening while feeling unhappy, I lay on the couch half-watching television. Dad had gone out with Flynn and Martin to pick up groceries and a curry for dinner. I wasn’t focusing on the program when Anya came out of our room reading one of my spell books.
‘This is fascinating stuff,’ she said as she leafed through the pages. ‘Sometimes I envy you. I’d love to be able to zap repulsive people or do spells like this.’ She dropped the open book in front of me and sat cross-legged on the carpet.
I focused on the page before bursting into laughter. I read aloud the title of the spell decorated with red hearts. ‘A day of love. It’s bizarre, isn’t it? Among all the wards and destructive spells, this one is stuck in there like a page of comic relief.’
‘It’s perfect. You get a day of undivided attention and affection from your spell recipient and at the end of the day all they experience is sleepiness while being unable to remember the romantic side of the day. It sounds pretty harmless to me—but fun.’
‘Do you have someone in mind?’ I asked.
Anya laughed. ‘I wish. What about the mailman?’
‘You’ll need some of his hair.’
‘He’s bald.’
‘Good, because it’d be hard to explain—you running after him with a pair of scissors.’
I glanced at the price of the spell. ‘According to my mother’s notes it only causes a night of insomnia for the spell caster.’
Anya grinned at me mischievously. ‘Promise I won’t tell if you decide to try it.’
I was itching to experiment with the spells and this seemed like a little simple fun.
‘Well?’ she asked.
‘I’d like to see the hot air balloons taking off from the foreshore of the lake on Saturday. I could pack a breakfast.’
‘Do it. I won’t tell a soul.’
When Flynn returned to the house with the groceries, I cornered him. ‘Would you like to come with me on Saturday to see the hot air balloons take off over the lake? Some of the locals say it’s spectacular.’
I could almost hear him thinking as he paused.
‘We need to get there before dawn and if it’s bright you’ll need to take sunglasses.’ Did I sound desperate? ‘I’m sure we’ll be able to find somewhere shady for breakfast.’
‘Sure, why not,’ he finally said as though he’d weighed up the risk of being alone with me. ‘You could come too, Martin.’
Martin flinched but then glanced at Flynn before quickly agreeing. They obviously had some sort of pact or arrangement. Did he think I was going to bite?
‘What about you, Anya and Daniel?’ Flynn said.
And how about the kitchen sink, I felt like adding.
‘I’m busy,’ said Anya winking at me.
‘Sorry, count me out,’ Dad said.
‘Now all you need is a spell to repel Martin,’ Anya whispered to me in our bedroom after dinner. ‘You never told me, what is it with you two? You were so close. Did you have a fight?’
‘It was good,’ I admitted. ‘Perhaps we were too close.’
I could see the realisation dawning on Anya’s face. ‘Oh, now I understand. You had that conversation, didn’t you?’
I could feel a blush working its way up my neck to my face.
‘That’s why I never get too close to mortal men. Dhampiric relationships are a lot less troublesome, although they’re not as intense and fascinating. I suppose when you’re immortal you don’t really get locked into the idea of spending the rest of your days with a partner.’
‘It sounds romantic.’
Anya laughed. ‘Being with the same partner for eternity?’
‘It would work if you loved each other.’
She shook her head as though repelled by the idea. ‘You humans seem to love that whole soulmate, romance, flowers and chocolates business.’
‘It’d be a lot easier without it,’ I confessed. ‘But having one special person for a lifetime would be ..’ I struggled to think of a word powerful enough to capture what it meant to me.
‘Perfect?’
‘Yes.’
She smiled as though she felt sorry for me. ‘Okay, what do you need for your witchy recipe?’
I picked up the green spell book bound in leather and flipped it open to the page where I’d left my tasseled bookmark. I lay on my stomach reading the directions aloud to Anya.
‘Fairly straight forward,’ I said. ‘Except the need for two hairs from Flynn’s head.’
‘We’re going to the art museum tomorrow for lunch to escape another sunny day. I’ll rope Daniel into our plans too. All you need to do is duck into the boys’ room and pluck a couple of hairs off Flynn’s pillow.’
‘Which bed is that?’
‘The one next to the window,’ Anya said. ‘Martin whinges about any light reaching him in the morning, so he took the bed by the wall.’
The following day I rushed home at lunchtime and found Dad asleep on the couch and the triplets gone. I managed to sneak in to the boys’ room to collect a few jet-black hairs from Flynn’s pillow without waking my father. I hid them in my room and decided to wait for Anya to share in the fun of casting the spell. It had been a while since I felt so lighthearted and spirited. If I couldn’t have Flynn, I decided I’d start seeking more opportunities to rediscover my old self and try to enjoy life.
‘Lily, I didn’t hear you come in,’ Dad said.
‘Just dropped back for some lunch and to pick up a book.’
‘Great, I’ll whip up some sandwiches.’
‘Thanks, I’m starving.’ I threw my bag down beside the kitchen table and put the kettle on.
‘So you and the boys are off to see the balloons tomorrow?’
I could hear the cogs in his brain turning.
‘I wanted to talk to you about Flynn, but I haven’t had a chance.’
I nodded. There was no stopping his sense of obligation and curiosity.
‘I should have spoken to you earlier,’ he added.
‘Hmm. Tea?’
‘Yes, please.’ He was struggling in that awkward parental way. Like the time Mom told me about the facts of life.
Just spit it out, man.
‘Um, Flynn spoke to you about the problems of dhampir and mortal unions?’
So elegant. I nodded.
‘Do you have any questions? I’m here to listen or give advice if you need it.’
‘It’s okay Dad, you don’t need to worry. We’ll sort it out.’ I turned to him. ‘I promise I’m absolutely fine.’
‘Great, I’m glad we had this talk.’ He was sweating and fidgety. ‘Do you want mayonnaise with your sandwich?’
‘Yes, please.’
* * *
On Friday evening, Anya and I retired to bed early, so I could weave the spell. Amid much giggling and jokes from Anya, I brought the book out from under my mattress. At one stage Martin banged on our door for us to keep the noise down as he and Flynn had gone to bed early to make sure they’d have no difficulty getting up at 4 am like I’d asked.
‘Wow this is wild,’ said Anya leaning over my shoulder reading the spell.
Like the living room, the bedroom floors were timber, so after taking my chalk from the cante, I drew the intricate symbols on the floor. I then laid the hairs I’d collected on a sheet of paper. Taking the candles from the bag, I lit them before burning the hairs and whispering the strange incantation.
‘According to the notes, it will start to take effect as soon as Flynn lays eyes on me tomorrow morning.’
‘Poor brother, he won’t know what hit him. What will you do about Martin?’
‘My guess is that he’ll be too embarrassed to hang around once Flynn becomes attentive.’
‘I wish I were a witch,’ Anya said.
‘And me a dhampir,’ I said wistfully.
I’d never felt so close to her as I did this evening. We laughed and talked into the small hours like sisters.
‘How many spe
lls do you suppose there are in this world?’
Anya shrugged. ‘I’ve heard there are libraries full of them. You’d never be able to remember them all though or know which one to use.’
‘Where are the libraries?’
‘The old countries—where witches originated.’
Once the alarm went off beside my bed, I clamped it with my hand so as not to disturb Anya any more. After having so little sleep, I felt groggy but excited at the same time.
‘Have fun,’ she mumbled before rolling over and going back to sleep. I dressed quickly and headed into the kitchen to gather the breakfast I’d assembled in the fridge. After arranging juice, cereal and a few muffins in a basket and grabbing a blanket, I waited until Flynn and Martin emerged from the bedroom. Martin was rubbing his eyes, so I stared long and hard at Flynn, feeling butterflies burst in my stomach. I felt like a naughty and rather silly adolescent but reminded myself I was going to have fun.
‘Are you alright?’ Flynn asked. ‘Your eyes look puffy and glued together as though you haven’t slept.’
How romantic. Perhaps I’d botched the spell or maybe there was a slight delay for the spell to take up. ‘Come on; let’s go before we wake Dad and Anya.’ I turned quickly avoiding Martin’s eyes.
Martin offered to drive while Flynn sat next to him. As I gave Martin directions, I noticed him looking and smiling at me in the rear-view mirror. When he winked, I felt my stomach lurch. In an instant I knew somehow the hairs I’d plucked from the pillow weren’t Flynn’s. They must have swapped beds or pillows. I felt panicky wondering how I was going to fend off Martin with Flynn as an observer.
‘You look great today, Lily. Did you get a haircut, or are you wearing your hair differently?’ Martin asked.
‘Same old style,’ I said quietly as I noticed Flynn glance curiously at Martin.
‘Seriously, doesn’t she look good this morning?’ Martin said to Flynn.
‘Keep your eyes on the road,’ Flynn said in a stiff tone obviously wondering if this were a joke between Martin and me.
‘Pull up over there where the cars are parking,’ I said as we neared the lake. ‘We can walk to the area where the balloons are being prepared.’
‘Let me carry that for you,’ said Martin taking the picnic basket from my grasp and hooking his arm under mine. ‘Come along.’ We left a surprised Flynn bringing up the rear.
I found it difficult to concentrate on the stunning rainbow assortment of balloons being filled by gas-fueled flames set above large wicker baskets. Rugged-up spectators and excited passengers chattered under electric lights waiting for the balloons to be ready. The hiss of the gas and the bursts of flame fascinated me until I felt Martin’s hand in mine.
‘Let’s find a cozy nook to watch the balloons float over the lake while we have our breakfast,’ I suggested wriggling out of his grasp. Further down toward the lake, I spied a picnic bench with a wooden roof over it, so I strode to it with the boys in my wake. I sat next to Flynn forcing Martin to sit on the other side facing the lake. As the first soft light of dawn broke, the boys’ put their sunglasses on to watch the balloons gracefully ascending.
‘Beautiful,’ Martin said. He was sitting opposite me facing the balloons, but I could see his glasses were tilted at me.
I wriggled uncomfortably and distributed the bowls and spoons for cereal. Martin dived into the basket and retrieved the strawberries I’d hoped to give Flynn when I’d presumed Martin would disappear. He plucked one and held it in front of me. ‘Have a taste.’
‘Come on, Martin. Cut it out,’ Flynn said obviously furious with his antics.
Martin removed his glasses and studied Flynn’s face with a puzzled expression. ‘What’s eating you?’
‘You.’
Flynn and I struggled through the breakfast almost oblivious to the glorious procession of balloons drifting in the gentle breeze behind us. Meanwhile Martin continued winking at me and tickling my ankles with his toes under the bench. Once we’d had breakfast I hurriedly gathered the picnic dishes and almost threw them in the basket.
‘I’ve got to go to the library to study, so I need to get back to the house,’ I said in a panicky voice.
Martin seemed miserable after my announcement, but Flynn grabbed the picnic basket and walked so quickly up the path to the car that I had to jog to keep up.
We drove back to the house in silence, yet as we turned into the drive, Martin piped up, ‘I could come with you to the library, Lily. I feel like reading today.’
‘Um, I don’t think so. I need to study alone. I’ll catch up with you for dinner.’
Martin seemed to be deflated for a few moments. ‘I know I’ll plan and cook the best dinner for us tonight. Would you like that Lily?’
‘Sounds great, Martin, thanks.’
‘Do you know if we’ve got a tablecloth and candlesticks in the house? I might go out and buy some.’ Martin started to whistle a tune causing Flynn to groan.
Blushing, I rushed into the house, gathered some books and my bag. I managed to catch a glimpse of Flynn holding Martin by the scruff of the neck as he pushed him into their room. As their door slammed, I raced from the house.
* * *
When I returned later, I discovered Martin snoring on the couch. Everyone else was sitting around the table eating dinner while watching television.
‘Did you enjoy your breakfast balloons?’ asked Anya with an amused expression.
Flynn gave us an odd look.
‘They were stunning,’ I said nervously.
‘But Martin was a bit off-color, so we came back earlier than we planned,’ said Flynn studying my face.
‘I hope he didn’t catch anything,’ Anya said stifling a giggle.
Not missing a beat, Flynn said, ‘I’m certain it wasn’t contagious. What do you think Lily?’ A flicker of a smile crossed his lips.
He obviously knew or had worked it out.
‘That would be terrible if it were, wouldn’t it Flynn?’ I said defiantly.
Anya, Flynn and I burst into laughter while Daniel looked away from the television to us, no doubt trying to figure out the reason for our shared humor.
Although it was good to share the joke, I was no closer to knowing how Flynn truly felt about us and our future.
* * *
CHAPTER 12
Lily: A Witch’s Fury
As the semester drew to a close, I was yearning to return to the U.S.. It was too painful living so close to someone I desperately loved but knew I couldn’t have. Through determination, I was holding onto my study goals yet felt like a rudderless boat drifting in a vast sea. I’d spoken to Dad and he had agreed to come back home with me and settle somewhere south. He didn’t ask any questions as though he knew talking about it was too hard for me. I was so lucky to have him in my life again.
He was watching the television news as I made our usual cup of tea and the others were still asleep.
‘It’s the last day of classes,’ I said. ‘This evening I’m going to Burgmann College to celebrate with a bunch of students.’
He glanced at me. ‘In the evening?’
‘It’ll be fine. I’ll get a taxi.’
Dad nodded, preoccupied with some report of an accident on the highway between Canberra and Sydney. As usual, he was monitoring the details in an attempt to see if it could have any hallmarks of a vampire attack. I didn’t dare tell him I was going to a ceremony to honor the memory of Jack, the dhampir they’d killed. The human part of me needed to be there for Maeve even if it meant deceiving those I loved.
‘I’ll have some dinner at uni and then go directly to the college. I’ll probably be home around midnight. Otherwise I’ll text you.’
When the last lecture late on Friday rolled around, I felt a little sad knowing I wouldn’t be seeing these people around me again apart from the exams, which started in just over a week. Soon I’d be jetting back to America and my life here would fade like a dream. After eating a leisurely dinner a
t the near empty cafeteria, I sat and organized my notes from the last lecture. When the cafeteria closed, I walked to Burgmann, which was lit up and busy with people coming and going. I found Maeve talking to other students in the corridor upstairs near her room.
She smiled welcomingly when she saw me. ‘You came, thank you.’
I nodded and grinned while she introduced me to her friends.
‘We’ve booked the common room downstairs. All Jack’s friends are gathering there. Some like my parents have even come from Sydney for the day. After his parents died, they watched over him in his final couple of years at school.’
‘They must have taken the news hard,’ I said, not knowing what else to say.
‘Very. I think they thought we’d eventually marry.’ Maeve’s voice wobbled.
‘I’m sorry.’
I followed her to the basement where people were already sitting around on beanbags, chairs and sofas while drinking and nibbling chips and nuts. Loud music was playing in the background forcing people to shout to be heard. It wasn’t my idea of a fitting tribute for someone they had professed to love, but knowing Jack’s dark side made me enjoy it. If only his college friends had known.
‘Help yourself to the food,’ Maeve said before thrusting a plastic cup of wine in my hands. ‘Sorry, I dunno what it is, probably a mix of cheap drinks.’ She introduced me to her parents, who seemed a lovely couple. They had brought a stack of photos and were sharing them with a few students.
I stared into the muddy brown liquid and decided to sip it very slowly.
Maeve introduced me to Cheng, a muscular Asian boy with tattoos up his arms and Nick, an athletic, dark-skinned boy. Jack had referred to them as footballers and they both looked the part.
Although I sipped the wine carefully and kept eating as the evening wore on I quickly felt the alcohol going to my head.
‘We’re heading to the lake at nine,’ Nick said to Maeve. ‘The candles and boats are in the boxes by the door.’
‘What’s happening at nine?’ I asked Maeve.
‘A big group of us are going there for a ceremony to light candles and set paper boats afloat on the lake. Cheng and Nick have been making the boats over the last few days. I think it’s helped them come to terms with Jack’s death—sort of therapeutic. Jack died at the lake, so we thought it would be fitting. What do you think, Lily?’ She looked at me earnestly with those large soulful eyes of hers.