by Cate Martin
"Where was I?" Miss Zenobia asked, hand still over her eyes. "Ah yes." She dropped the hand away. "What this house contains. Well, the house doesn't contain it. I did, with every ounce of my powers, and now it will be up to you to contain it.
"This place, more specifically the back garden of this place, is a focal point - a node, if you will - where the veil between here and beyond is particularly weak. Such places are prone to exploitation by those with the power, and this one is no exception. In this case, the veil has been torn just enough to allow a passage through time. It used to be unstable, random, but after decades of work I've locked it down. Both points are now fixed and travel through time together in parallel. Cynthia can explain about it more, for she was born on the other side but dwells on both. She has aged exactly as she should have, which is more than you can say about me. She will be my proof of what I say."
"But Cynthia-" Brianna tried to break in again, but Zenobia quelled her with a single raised hand and a furious glare.
"Time is short," she said, and this time I saw her looking down at the box in front of her. The box with the lid that was now halfway closed. It had moved again. Like the hands on a clock, always moving but too slowly to be observed.
"I cannot collapse the time portal," Miss Zenobia said. "It's not possible. I made it stable; that's my final gift to you. But you must stand guard here. Time travel is not something humankind needs access to. It's barely safe for witches."
I leaned forward in my chair to look past the wings of the chair to see Brianna and Sophie's faces. But if they shared my inner freak out, they didn't show it. Sophie looked stern but resigned, like a knight accepting a quest they aren't sure they can fulfill but will gladly die trying.
Brianna, gazing steadily up at Zenobia's flaming eyes in a way she never managed with the rest of us, looked excited. No, more than that. Exhilarated.
I slumped back into my chair. What was going on here?
"The portal has been unattended since my death," Zenobia said. "I'm not sure how long that's been. If my calculations were correct, it should only have been a month or two. But even that time is too much. Incalculable damage may already have been done. You will have to look into it. My library will help guide you. But with no guard here for that time, things might have slipped through. Things might still slip through, if you are not diligent in your new task."
I heard a creak and saw the lid had moved further still, the very end of the clasp just brushing against the brass plate that was its home.
Something like fear passed over Zenobia's face, and my blood ran cold. I always thought that was just a cliche, but the icy chill coursing through my body was no mere imagery. I let out a breath that clouded in the air, swirling silver in the moonlight before fading away.
Miss Zenobia was looking fainter as well.
"Time is so short," she said again, and her voice trembled. "Centuries, but it went by so fast. Oh, my sister…"
Then she gave herself a little shake and looked back at us, the flames in her eyes as strong as ever.
"You have your calling," she said to us. "Now I need your solemn vow. Quickly now, for when the box closes I will be gone, never to return. Swear!"
"I swear," Brianna said first, hands clasping together in front of her heart.
"Good," Miss Zenobia said with a nod.
I looked at Sophie, slouching back in her chair with her arms crossed like a teenager determined not to be impressed.
But then she sighed and sat up, putting one hand on her heart and the other in the air like a scout. "I swear," she said.
Then all eyes were on me.
"Amanda," Brianna prompted. "Swear."
"Swear to what?" I hissed back. "I don't understand any of this."
"You have to swear!" Brianna said.
"The box closes!" Miss Zenobia said, but her booming voice sounded like it was coming from the end of a very long corridor.
"Amanda!" Sophie said. "Swear!"
"I don't know what this means!" I cried, scrunching my eyes shut tight and pressing my fists to my temples.
I felt a touch on my shoulder and looked up into Sophie's warm brown eyes.
"Amanda," she said softly. "All that matters is that you want to do all you can to protect as many people as you can. In whatever way that you can. Can you swear to do that?"
I heard another little tap as the clasp on the box lid shifted, only the smallest of gaps remaining.
"We'll be with you," Brianna said to me.
"I can promise that," I said to Sophie. "Those words."
"Say that you swear!" Zenobia said. The tree scratched viciously at the window behind her, drowning out her words, and the clouds were swallowing up the moon. As the light faded, so did the ghostly form of Miss Zenobia Weekes.
"I swear!" I cried, leaping to my feet. "I swear, I swear!"
But she was gone.
Had I said the words in time?
Sophie stepped away from me and switched the desk lamp back on. Its light spilled over the dark wood of the box, now firmly closed.
"What did I just swear to?" I moaned. My legs felt weak and I fell into the chair behind me.
"Just what you said you did," Sophie said.
"Is that what we all agreed to do?" I asked. "Just, what we can? Because it's crazy talk, most of what she said. I mean, clearly she was some kind of ghost, so I guess I believe in ghosts now. Who knew? But witches? That's a whole other thing, right? I mean, I guess some people in alternative religions call themselves that, but witches like she meant it, those aren't real. Right?"
Sophie and Brianna exchanged another one of those long, silent looks. The kind that were increasingly driving me mad.
"Right?" I said again.
"Actually," Brianna said, and I could see her cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink.
Then I saw the wand in her hand. Where had she been keeping that?
"Yeah, we had the sense that maybe you didn't know, so Cynthia said not to say anything," Sophie said, poking the fire back to life. When she turned away from the fireplace I saw she too had a wand in her hand. "But yeah, witches are real. And believe it or not, there are three of them in this room right now."
Chapter 13
I was still standing there with my mouth hanging open when Mr. Trevor returned. I heard the key turning in the lock and had a moment to pull myself together before he came into the room. He looked at each of the three of us as he slid the key away in his pocket, but when his gaze fell on the box resting on the desktop, I saw a tear in the corner of his eye reflecting the dancing light from the fireplace.
"Why couldn't you stay?" I asked softly.
"It was delicate magic," he said then brushed past me to pick up the box. He clutched it tight to his chest, head bowed.
But somehow that box felt different to me now. It felt empty, if that makes sense since I never opened it or picked it up.
"I have tea and sandwiches in the dining room," he said without looking up at any of us. "I'm sure you have much to discuss."
"She wanted us to talk about things with Cynthia," I said. "She didn't know she died."
"No, she wouldn't have," Mr. Trevor said, stroking the wood of the box with one finger. "I will answer what I can."
He went out of the room, and I looked to the others. They had put their wands away. Somehow, that was a bit of a relief.
"Delicate magic," Brianna said. "He doesn't know the half of it."
"I don't know any of it," I said glumly.
"I don't know much myself," Sophie said. "She created a hologram of herself or something? To talk to us after she died?"
"She preserved a part of her essence," Brianna said. "It's rare magic. No one I know back in Boston could do it, that's for sure."
"But you understand the concept?" Sophie asked.
"The rudiments," Brianna agreed. "She made an exchange: time from the end of her life for time with us."
"But not one to one, that exchange," I guessed. Because otherwise, it wouldn'
t be rare magic, I was sure.
"No," Brianna agreed. "I don't know the exact numbers, but it's more in the order of losing a year to gain five minutes."
"Why?" Sophie asked. "In a year, she could have just found us."
"I don't know," Brianna said. "And I don't think Mr. Trevor does either. Cynthia might not have even. She wasn't a witch like us. But we should remember that she did it. The reason why might be important later."
"Are we in danger?" I asked.
Sophie looked steadily at me, and Brianna shot as many darting glances up at me as she dared, but neither had an answer.
"I'm suddenly hungry," I said, hoping to break the somber mood. "Shall we?"
We all walked down the front stairs together, and I was sure we were all stepping as loudly as we could, coughing and clearing our throats, just to be sure that Mr. Trevor had plenty of warning.
But when we reached the dining room, he looked as cordial as ever, no sign of having hastily wiped his eyes or otherwise making an effort to pull himself together for our benefit.
The box was nowhere in sight. That was just as well. Even empty it still freaked me out a little bit.
"My mother was mute my whole life," I said, the words bursting out of me. "She never spoke, and she never wrote anything down. I know nothing of her history before the day I was born. I don’t even know her name. But I think if she had been a witch, I would have known it."
"Maybe not," Sophie said, taking the cup of tea Mr. Trevor had poured out for her and reaching for one of the sandwiches. "My mother was very insistent that neither of us ever show our power in public. I always thought she was hiding from something, I just never knew what."
"Past tense," I said, settling down with my own cup of tea. "Your mother died as well?"
"I believe so," Sophie said. "She disappeared when I was seventeen. I don't know what happened. One day she just never came home from work. No one ever found a body or any evidence of anything."
"Did you ever try a locating spell?" Brianna asked, helping herself to one of each of the kinds of sandwiches and stuffing a peanut butter one into her mouth. Apparently, she was even hungrier than I was.
"No," Sophie sighed. "My mother taught me about feeling the flow of magic around us and through us. I can sense things that disturb it or things that influence it. For as long as I can remember I've known to keep my feelings open wide, and if I felt anything like magical power, I would run as far and as fast as I could."
"Did that happen a lot?" I asked.
Sophie gave a little laugh. "I grew up in New Orleans. It's steeped in more kinds of magic than I have a name for. Yes, I've spent a lot of time running and hiding. I've gotten good at sensing things, and I've gotten really good at hiding inside the magic."
"You really have," Brianna agreed through a mouthful of food. "I wasn't sure if you were a witch or not until you told me and then dropped your guard. Then it was like boom! Full glow."
Sophie basked in the compliment for a minute then took another sip of tea. "But that's all I know. Sensing and hiding. I never learned any actual spells. Although I'm sure, my mother knew at least a few. She was always going to teach me, someday when we were safe. I guess we were never safe."
"My mother died when I was five," Brianna said. "But she was a member of a coven."
"What's that mean?" I asked. "Thirteen witches?"
"Yeah, but really most of them only wanted to be witches," Brianna said. "But the two who really were witches took me in and brought me up. Sort of. They weren't really mom material. Not like my actual mom." She blinked hard, looking down at the still surface of her tea. “Well, maybe that’s not fair. I wasn’t what you’d call a normal kid. But they had lots of books. They showed me what they knew, but their books went so much further than they ever did."
"Could you do a locating spell?" I asked. "Can you help Sophie find her mother?"
"Not from here," Brianna frowned. "So far away."
"Maybe we could go there," I said.
"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Mr. Trevor said, and I nearly jumped. I had forgotten he was still there. "Not all of you, probably not even two of you, not for quite some time."
"No, we'll be needed here," Sophie said with a faraway look in her eyes. "I think I understand what I've been feeling since I got here. It's that time portal. It's… intimidating. No way I can guard it alone. It's going to need all three of us to do it."
"For now," Brianna agreed. "But if we study and practice and grow our skills, someday we'll be powerful enough to stand guard alone. Any of us."
"As powerful as Miss Zenobia?" I asked. I hadn't seen her do any magic beyond making herself into a time-lapsed ghost, but I was certain I would never be able to do even that.
"Probably not that powerful," Mr. Trevor said. "She had more than a century of practice before she even came here."
"Are you that old as well?" I asked, and Mr. Trevor nearly choked on his tea.
"Certainly not!" he sputtered. "I'm quite ordinary."
"So am I, I'm afraid," I said. "I've never felt a thing since I got here. I don't sense anything, or feel any flow, and I certainly don't know any spells."
"You heard the music," Sophie said.
"Mrs. Olson next door has been hearing the music for weeks," I pointed out. "She's not a witch."
"Not our kind of witch, anyway," Sophie said dryly.
"I don't think I'm going to be of any help," I said. "I'm afraid I might be the opposite of that. If the two of you have to compensate for me… I don't know. Wouldn't it be better to get another witch? Brianna says she knows a few."
"I don't know…" Brianna said, frowning down at her empty sandwich plate.
"There's being a witch, and then there's having the calling to guard this place," Sophie said. "I think they're two separate things."
"So I somehow ended up with a calling to guard here, but I'm not a witch," I said.
"We don't know that for a fact," Brianna said.
"How can we know it for a fact? Throw me in a pond, see if I float?" I asked, only half joking.
"I can check the library," Brianna said. "There must be tests we can administer. Real ones. Miss Zenobia must have had books on the matter."
"And there you go," I said, throwing my hands up in the air. "I'm already distracting you from the real work. If you're going to be searching the library for anything, it should be for information about what we're supposed to do with this portal."
"It's true, I know very little about it," Brianna said. "Although I don't think that will be a huge problem. My background in physics is going to be very handy, I think."
"We're going to have to live here," Sophie said suddenly.
"You already brought all your stuff," I pointed out.
"That was partly necessity since I really did lose my student housing when I got cut from the master's program," Sophie said. "But it was mostly by way of protest. I didn't think I'd actually be leaving New Orleans."
She didn't say anything more, but I could tell by the way she was studying the crusts of her sandwich laying on her plate that she was thinking of her mother, and of how not going back to their home was as much as abandoning the search for her. Leaving her for dead.
Brianna was making a moaning sound, and I turned to see her rocking back and forth on her chair, hands fisted in her long red hair as she mumbled to herself over and over again. I could only make out a few words, words I'd been hearing her say since she got here. Research. Crucial juncture. Books she'd left behind.
"Brianna?" Sophie said, pulled from her own reverie.
Brianna's hands fisted even tighter, and I was afraid she was going to pull clumps from her scalp.
But then her rocking stopped, and she sat up. Still not quite looking at any of us, but at least she was calmer as she loosened her hands and smoothed her hair back.
"I'm fine," she said. "I can send for what I need. I can probably even still continue with my own program from here. My mentor is very accom
modating."
"That's good," Sophie said, the end of the sentence lilting up ever so slightly towards being a question.
"I can't work from here," I said. "I don't know how the Schneidermans will replace me. Not that I'm irreplaceable or anything, but it's a very small town, and I look out for them like family. I mean, they have family of their own, but they all moved away…" I trailed off, realizing that none of those words were what was really in my heart.
"We need you," Brianna said. "I know we do."
"I know it too," Sophie said. "I sense that much."
"I don't sense anything at all," I said glumly. "I feel like if I stay, I'll just be wasting everyone's time."
"Miss Zenobia picked you for a reason," Mr. Trevor said, and I saw the hand resting next to his teacup had clenched into a tight fist. "You three. Each of you. That includes you, Miss Amanda. After everything she went through to find you and bring you here, after everything Mrs. Thomas went through…" he broke off, and I suspected he was choking back a sob. But he didn't give into it, just pushed his chair away from the table and started to leave the room.
He stopped in the doorway, hand trembling where he held the doorframe. He didn't turn back, but his words were quite clear.
"You have to stay. Miss Zenobia was never wrong. Never."
Chapter 14
We all went to bed at that point, deciding that further talk could wait until sunlight.
Not that I got much sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, the music and the party sounds grew louder still. It was like people kept sneaking into my very room to chat together and clink champagne glasses and dance the Charleston.
If I had been a real witch, I could have cursed all those partygoers. As it was, I couldn't even see them.
It's safe to say I woke up very grumpy. I got dressed and headed down the stairs.
I heard voices on the second floor and followed the sound as far as the library doorway. I thought at first Brianna was in there talking to herself, but when I peeked in I saw two heads bent over that massive table and all of the books spread open across its surface.