by L. C. Mawson
She carefully moved to her desk chair to check her email. She didn’t want to do anything that might trigger her hyperfocus for more than a couple of hours, but she needed something to distract herself from her self-imposed ban on food and drink.
Surprisingly, there was only one email in her inbox, a thank you message from her last client. To her annoyance, there were no new requests for work.
While Janet’s stab at her freelance work had hurt, Alice had to admit that it was precarious. You never knew when work might dry up, or for how long.
Not that it mattered any more, she realised. By then end of the day, she might have a real job. Or, at least, more than enough money to keep her happy when no one needed a freelance programmer.
She switched over to Steam instead and loaded up the Space Warrior RTS spin-off title. It had been a strange left-turn for the series, but Alice liked it. She chose the race-against-the-clock game mode and set the timer for two hours.
BY THE TIME THE TIMER went off, Alice was already losing spectacularly. Perhaps the pacifist Hath, who had been nearly extinct by the start of the first main Space Warrior title, hadn’t been the best species to play as when going for a conquering victory.
She shut down her computer as she heard a car pull up outside. She assumed that it was her aunt, but decided to wait until she was called instead of rushing downstairs. After all, what if it wasn’t her? Alice didn’t want to sit waiting in public view. Worse, what if she went downstairs and then her aunt never came at all? What if she waited for hours on end and no one came for her?
What if she had imagined the whole thing?
Before her mind could go any further into a spiral, she heard Janet call her name.
She raced downstairs to see her aunt waiting for her in the hallway, wearing the same black duffel coat and bug-eye sunglasses as the day before, though her dress was different, albeit still white.
“Alice,” she greeted with a smile. “I thought we could go into town for lunch.”
Alice nodded, following as her aunt led her out of the building.
“Wait,” Janet called after them in a particularly shrill voice. “I have to know when you’ll be back.”
Alice’s aunt just gave a slight smile. “I’m afraid I cannot tell you the future. I, therefore, cannot tell you how long Alice and I will spend talking.”
Janet fumed at that, but Alice’s aunt was out of the room before she could argue and Alice followed close behind.
“You know, she’ll probably take that out on me later,” Alice pointed out as her aunt got into the driver’s seat of a particularly smart look sports car. Alice knew nothing about cars, but this one looked sleek and was an impressively clean shade of white.
“You can stay at my hotel tonight instead if you want,” her aunt said simply as Alice got into the passenger’s side. “I’ll get you a room of your own, for space.”
Alice had to marvel at the frivolous attitude her aunt had towards money. She couldn’t imagine how freeing it must be for her to so easily solve her problems.
“Thank you,” she eventually said.
“It’s the very least I could do after leaving you there for so long,” her aunt replied as she drove out of the driveway and onto the road. They were only twenty minutes from the city centre, but they were surrounded by fields on one side and trees on the other.
Alice sheepishly shrugged as she looked out of the window, focusing on the passing wind turbines in the hopes of avoiding car sickness. “You said you had your reasons,” she eventually mumbled.
“I did, but that doesn’t mean that I am free from guilt.” Before Alice could reply, she asked, “How are your headaches?”
Alice frowned a little. “I haven’t had one since yesterday.”
“And before that, were they frequent?”
Alice shrugged. “I guess. I probably just overloaded myself.”
“Your brain was trying to process new information and it didn’t know how.”
“Yeah, that’s usually how sensory processing disorder works.”
“I didn’t mean sensory information.”
Alice frowned. “Then what did you mean?”
“All in due time, Alice. There are things to explain, but not yet. It’s better to dive into the rabbit-hole head-first, is it not? Otherwise you would never believe the things you see in Wonderland.”
Alice frowned, the metaphor lost on her, but she stayed quiet and decided to be patient. After all, her curiosity had not yet been sated, and her aunt had made it clear that there was no cutting off point for her turning away.
ONCE THEY PARKED IN the city, Alice’s aunt took her down to a small tapas restaurant opposite the theatre. Her aunt asked for a table outside and Alice was thankful for how warm it was, given that autumn was approaching.
Alice had always liked tapas. She always preferred her food in different small portions, all on different plates. Sushi should have also filled that criteria, but sushi rice wasn’t the best sensory experience for her. Too squishy.
She chose the meatiest dishes she could. Meat was always the best for her, sensory-wise. Her aunt only chose vegetarian dishes.
As the waitress approached, Alice’s head flashed with pain before she saw the waitress trip over her aunt’s bag, spilling their food all over Alice. The vision faded just in time for her to see the waitress trip for real.
Her aunt, however, put her hand out, catching the plates deftly before they covered Alice.
“I am so sorry,” the waitress said, her face bright red.
“It’s quite alright,” Alice’s aunt assured. “No harm done.”
The waitress nodded as she quickly and silently helped them to put the plates down.
“Could we have a bottle of merlot as well, please?” Alice’s aunt asked as they finished up.
The waitress nodded before scurrying away.
Alice’s aunt turned to regard Alice carefully, causing her to squirm in her seat.
“What?” Alice eventually asked.
“You saw that, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes. I mean, it happened right in front of me.”
“No, not as it happened. Before it happened.”
Alice shrugged. “I saw that she was approaching and I saw your bag on the floor. They weren’t hard dots to connect.”
Her aunt sighed. “This is why we should never let children grow up with Humans,” she said, seemingly to herself.
“Humans?” Alice asked with a frown.
Her aunt responded by passing her a ten pence coin. “Declare heads or tails and then flip the coin.”
Alice frowned. “Why?”
“You’ll see.”
“Heads,” Alice said before flipping the coin.
It landed on heads.
“I won,” Alice said, wondering what that meant.
“Do it again.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Alice sighed. “Heads,” she said again.
It landed on heads.
“I win again.”
“Keep going.”
Alice’s frowned again, but she did as she was told.
“Heads.”
Heads.
“Heads.”
Heads.
“Heads.”
Heads.
Alice’s frown deepened as she decided that the coin must be weighted.
“Tails.”
Tails.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Heads.”
Heads.
She looked back up at her aunt. “Okay, seriously, what’s up with the coin?”
“It’s not the coin, it’s you.”
“So, what? You’re telling me that I can see the future.”
“Not exactly. There is no definitive future, just probability. You can see that probability and figure out the most likely outcome.”
Alice sighed as she folded her arms, leaning back in her chair. “That sounds like some Rain Man bullshit to me.
”
Her aunt gave a tired smile. “I thought it might. But the real truth is that I don’t know if you were seeing the outcome just then, or if you were influencing it.”
“Influencing it?”
Her aunt nodded. “The ability to influence probability. To make the unlikely likely. It is, perhaps, one of the most boring sounding but powerful abilities out there.”
“Abilities? What are you on about?”
“When the waitress comes back, try to focus on her. Really focus on her.”
Alice nodded as she saw the waitress approach. She didn’t want to seem as if she was staring, but she found that just looking at her was causing a slight headache. It felt as if she needed a new prescription for her glasses, despite the fact that she had gotten new ones just the month before.
Alice tried to blink away the headache, but found that she instead blinked away the image of the woman in front of her, revealing a slightly bulkier woman with golden eyes and sharp teeth. As she placed the bottle on the table, Alice noted that her fingernails resembled claws.
So she’s into body modification, Alice reasoned, only to be assaulted by a vision of the woman hulking out of her clothes in the middle of a forest as she transformed into a large wolf.
“How is the local pack doing?” her aunt asked the waitress.
The girl turned bright red again. “We’re doing fine, but you already knew that.”
“Yes, but it is always polite to ask. And your problem to the south?”
The girl shrugged. “We’re pretty sure that there’s another pack down there, but we haven’t been able to contact them through the usual channels. It’s a little concerning. I don’t suppose you could tell us anything...”
“There is, indeed, a pack starting to form to the south. But they are all first or second generation Weres.”
The girl’s eyebrows shot up. “And they’re forming their own pack? Most of the turned don’t make it long enough.”
“It is quite unusual, yes.”
“Should we try to contact them? Do they have any contact with our world?”
“They do not right now, but you contacting them would not go well for your pack. They are not happy about being turned, or about passing their nature to their children. Give it another fifteen years for them to cool down. This next generation will learn tolerance.”
The girl nodded with a small smile. “You really do look at the long game, don’t you?”
“That is the job.”
“Of course, Fate.”
The girl left as Alice gaped at her aunt.
“Was she... a werewolf?” She felt ridiculous saying it aloud.
Her aunt nodded. “Sweet girl. It’s a shame.”
“A shame?”
“About next year.”
Alice suddenly saw a fanged man standing over a pale wolf, his chin dripping with blood.
She assumed he was a vampire...
Her aunt poured her a glass of the wine and she gulped it down, hoping that it would make things make sense again.
“Why did she call you Fate?” Alice eventually asked.
“It’s my title, among others.”
“Others?”
“Destiny, Lady Luck... Any belief in a force controlling the circumstances around a person come back to me.”
Alice let out a hollow laugh. “That sounds like the kind of power a god would have.”
“Godhood is so difficult to define,” her aunt answered cryptically. “The Creator, who sculpted this world and the worlds surrounding, is certainly a god by most definitions, but She doesn’t stay to watch over Her Creations. She left the Ancients to do that, and they held a portion of Her power. Then, long story short, their job was taken and bestowed to four mortals instead. One became Death, one became Fate, one became Life, and one became Nature. Four beings tasked with making sure everything continues to run smoothly.”
“And you’re Fate?” Alice asked before pouring herself another glass.
“Not the original. We have those in our employ who help us. They have a small portion of our power and act as our bridge with the rest of the magical community. For Fate, those people are called Oracles. My sister and I were both born Seers – those with the potential to become Oracles – and I was chosen. Soon after, the Fate I served under retired, and she chose me to replace her.”
“Your sister? You mean my mother?”
“Yes.”
“She was a Seer?”
“Once. After I became Fate, I started to miss her, so I made her an Oracle. I didn’t see that the life would not agree with her for long.”
“She left?”
“Yes, after meeting your father. She had been thinking of leaving for a while. He was just the catalyst. She asked me not to interfere in her life, and I complied. I moved the important threads around her so that they would never intersect. Or, at least, I thought I had.”
Alice frowned. “I intersected with a thread, didn’t I? You said that you didn’t know I existed until something came up. That was a thread, wasn’t it?”
Her aunt smiled. “You are quite astute. I wonder, can you see the thread that you were so close to?”
Alice was about to object, saying that she had no idea how to do that, when she was hit by a rush of images.
A bracelet transforms into a sword.
A girl loses a shoe.
A pair of wings.
Herself, standing defiant.
A mermaid in a swimming pool.
An assassin’s blade.
A trident pulled from the depths.
A familiar stranger.
A shadow.
A tattoo.
The world aflame.
Her world aflame.
“Freya,” Alice said as the images stopped. “Freya was the thread you were manipulating.”
“Yes. You’re getting good at this.”
“But... She’s my friend.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but I play the long game, and Freya is a particularly important piece. If it makes you feel better, you have just seen the most intense parts of my plan for her, the parts that burn the brightest, but there are others. Quieter, happier moments.”
“And the end?”
“Everything ends, Alice. Asking me to change that is asking too much.”
Alice sighed, nodding. “Okay. So, this is the job you’re offering me? Changing people’s fate?”
“Yes. You should have been born a Seer. The Earth was scarred years ago, and no more Oracles could be made or born. However, I don’t think the person who scarred the Earth thought about that power being transferred. Say, from mother to daughter...”
“My mother? That’s why she died when I was born?”
“Yes, but don’t blame yourself. Someone else is to blame for that. The point is, I am now short-staffed, and you have the power to help. However, if you do not want this life, I won’t force it on you. As I told you yesterday, you can still walk away with enough money to live comfortably.”
“Or I could work with you?”
“Or you could work with me. I can teach you how to use your powers. If you go, I will show you how to dampen them.”
Alice took the coin again and thought of it landing on its side before flipping it into the air and letting it fall to the table. It spun in front of her, almost falling from the table, before coming to rest perfectly on its side.
“Alright,” she said. “Show me what else I can do.”
Ghosts
“Hey.”
Freya lifted her head from her phone to see Damon approaching. Ever since her encounter with the Demon, they had been meeting up in town at the weekend. Initially, it had been to practice their Shakespeare scene for English, but that had passed and yet they kept meeting up.
“Hey,” Freya greeted with a grin, doing her best not to wince as she twisted her arm wrong in an attempt to put her phone back in her pocket. Her wounds were taking their sweet time healing, though Amber seemed pleased with t
hat development. She kept on using it as excuse for her to go slowly with Freya’s combat training. It frustrated Freya to no end, but there was nothing she could really do about it.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” Damon asked her excitedly.
Freya groaned. She had hoped he wouldn’t ask her that.
“I’m a little old for trick or treating,” she figured, hoping that he would drop it.
“Well, yeah, but Kevin has apparently set up a haunted house. A bunch of us were going to go tonight.”
Freya frowned. “How very American of him.”
Damon sighed, folding his arms.
“Is that a ‘no’? You don’t seem as excited about Halloween as everyone else.”
“Did you just use a contraction?”
“I am trying to be less stilted in my speech. Now stop changing the subject.”
Freya sighed. “I just don’t get the hype. Why are you so invested anyway? If this is your first Halloween, I’ve got to tell you, it’s not as exciting as everyone makes it out to be.”
“We do, in fact, celebrate All Hallows’ Eve back home.”
“I thought only people who practised Wicca called it that.”
Damon ignored that. “The point is that, while we did celebrate, you do it differently here.”
“Different? How?”
Damon shrugged. “We have these masquerade balls. Not that I ever got to attend one... But I hear they are nice. It’s said that the veil between the living and dead is thinner, and the dead are scared away if they recognise faces they once knew. Hence the masks.”
“Wait, so they deliberately try to attract the dead? Why?”
“Why wouldn’t they? If you got a chance to see a loved one who had died, wouldn’t you?”
Freya didn’t really have a response there. Not least because she spent a good deal of her time with a ghost. But Amber wasn’t a ghost ghost. She looked like a person.
“If I tell you something, will you promise you won’t laugh?” she asked him as she folded her arms.
“Of course.”
She sighed, bracing herself before admitting, “When I was little, I got really scared one Halloween.”