Broomsticks And Bones

by Sam Short

  Millie gazed into the cauldron, the swirling greens and bright flashes of light having a soothing effect on her. She smiled at her familiar. "I'm fine now, Reuben," she said, feeling shame rising. "I've apologised to Judith, and now I want to apologise to you. I'm sorry about what happened at dinner. It was silly of me."

  Reuben fluttered to the rim of the cauldron, and cocked his head. He looked up at Millie. "You don't need to apologise to me. Everybody's entitled to a catastrophic neurotic breakdown at some point in their life."

  "I'm not sure I had a catastrophic neurotic breakdown, Reuben," said Millie. "I think I was just venting my emotions."

  "Six of one, half a dozen of the other," said Reuben. "But I'll go with the term emotional venting, if that will help you feel less foolish about the whole episode."

  "It would, actually," said Millie.

  "Emotional venting it is, then," said Reuben. He looked up the stairs at the closed door. "Are Judith and Sergeant Spencer still up there? Are we likely to be disturbed?"

  "Yes, they’re still here," said Millie. "They're staying for the night. They won't disturb us, though. I told them I needed some time with you, alone. What is it you wanted to show me?"

  Reuben looked away, his eyelids briefly hiding his coal black eyes. He hopped from foot to foot and shook out his feathers. "What I'm going to show you is quite sensitive," he said. "And if it's offensive to you in any way, I hope you know I'm only thinking of your well-being."

  "This is beginning to sound more serious than I thought it would be, Reuben," said Millie. "When you said you had a spell to show me — which would help me, I thought you were going to show me how to make a potion which would shrink my bum, or something as equally insulting."

  Reuben shook his small head. "Do you remember what you said to me before you went to The Fur and Fangs for the pub quiz?" he asked. "You told me that you speak out loud sometimes, to your mother. You told me that you wished she could answer you. You told me you had questions which you wanted her to answer. Questions that the letter she left for you could never answer."

  A creeping tendril of dread probed Millie's insides. "Yes," she said, stepping closer to the cockatiel and placing a hand on one of the cool stones which the waist-high cauldron was built of. "I remember saying that."

  Reuben remained quiet for a few seconds. He lowered his head, and rearranged his wings. "After you’d said that, and you’d gone to the pub," he said. "I remembered something. A spell I'd seen in one of the books down here in the cavern — while Esmeralda was creating potions. I remember Esmeralda saying it was a spell which she’d never seen being cast, and wasn’t certain if it ever had been cast by any witch.” Reuben cocked his head. “It took me a while, but I found it again. I found the spell, and I think it's feasible that it will work for you. If you have the courage to cast it.”

  "What is the spell?" whispered Millie, the small hairs on her arms standing rigid. "What does it do, Reuben?"

  "Loosely translated, it's called the spell of unheard last words," said Reuben. "And as for what it does — it can… it's supposed to… it's for…"

  "What is it for?" said Millie. "Just say it!"

  Reuben's tiny chest expanded as he took a deep breath. "I think it will allow you to speak with your mother," he said, his voice quiet. "It will allow your mother to appear before you, and she'll be able to communicate with you."

  Millie placed her other hand on the rim of the cauldron, and steadied herself, her legs suddenly unstable beneath her. "How?" she said, a tremble in her voice. "How does it work?"

  Reuben's eyes brightened. "Good," he said. "You're interested. I’d hoped you would be."

  Millie shook her head, pressing her feet hard onto the rock floor. Grounding herself. "Just tell me how it works," she said. "Then I'll tell you if I'm interested, or not."

  "The spell requires three ingredients, two of which you have, and the third ingredient being available to you… with a little effort on your behalf," said Reuben. He spread his wings and flew from the cauldron to the rickety oak table placed alongside an umbrella stand stuffed with ornate walking canes.

  He hopped onto the large leather-bound book which lay open on the tabletop, and lowered his head as he read from the page. "The first ingredient is the last words that the person you wish to bring back spoke to you, the important factor being that those words must remain unheard by the intended recipient."

  "The letter," murmured Millie. "The letter from my mother."

  "Yes!" said Reuben. "Those are technically her last words to you, and you are yet to hear them — or read them, in your circumstances."

  "What's the next ingredient?" said Millie, her legs beginning to feel stronger, and her heart beating faster.

  "A tear shed for the person you wish to bring back,” said Reuben, excitement in his words. He nodded in the direction of the envelope placed next to the book. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought the letter down here with me. It has your tears on it, the envelope was still damp when I brought it with me, but it doesn't matter if the tear is wet or dry. It's the sentiment behind it which will power the magic."

  The speed of her breathing matching her heart rate, Millie stepped towards the table and gazed down at the book, the words within it written in ink which was fading with time. "And the last ingredient?" she said. "The one which will require a little effort on my behalf?"

  "A pearl of wisdom," said Reuben, with a look that Millie assumed was an avian version of a frown.

  "What is that?" said Millie. "That's just a thing people say, isn't it? A pearl of wisdom is a wise piece of advice."

  "It has become a phrase which people use," said Reuben. "But it's a phrase based on reality. Pearls of wisdom exist, Millie, and you just need to get one."

  "What are they?" said Millie. "Are they pearls? Like the name suggests?"

  "They are, and I did some research on them," said Reuben, nodding towards the rows of books which populated three shelves hewn into the rock wall of the cavern. "Pearls of wisdom grow in oysters which can only be found in the deepest parts of an ocean directly influenced by a magical beacon." He looked up at Millie. "Places like that are rare, but we happen to live in one. Spellbinder Hall is a magical beacon which transmits the concealment spell over the town, and you only need to look out of a window upstairs to see the ocean."

  Using her tongue to moisten her dry lips, Millie ran a finger below a line of writing on the page before her. "It says they can only be harvested under a full moon, from the depths of the ocean," she said.

  "It's a full moon tonight, Millie," said Reuben, a twinkle in his eye.

  "Do the words depths of the ocean mean anything to you?" said Millie, her heart sinking. "How am I supposed to get to the depths of the ocean, Reuben? In a submarine? Have you got a submarine stashed away which you’re not telling me about? A little yellow one, perhaps?"

  "Very funny," said Reuben. "No, I don't have a submarine, but I do have a plan."

  "Let me hear it," said Millie, anxiety tightening its hand around her throat.

  "I had thought of the obvious thing," said Reuben. "I thought we could ask Lillieth. A mermaid would have no problem in retrieving a pearl of wisdom for us."

  "But Lillieth isn't here, Reuben!" said Millie. "She's travelling the oceans, and mermaids are rare. I can't just run down to the seashore and ask the next passing mermaid to fetch me a pearl of wisdom!"

  "You're right. Lillieth isn't here," said Reuben, swivelling his head, and staring at a spot behind Millie. "But there is something of hers here. Something that will help you."

  Millie turned around, following the cockatiel's gaze. "That won't work," she said, stepping towards the shimmering white dress, and running a finger over the soft silk. "The magic in the dress gives mermaids legs, it doesn't give humans fins."

  "I wouldn't have suggested any of this to you," said Reuben, "if I hadn't done my research. You’re right, that dress won't work on humans — they have no magic within them, but according
to everything I can find in the old books, the magic in that dress should be reversible, when worn by somebody of a paranormal persuasion." He flew to Millie's shoulder. “You think you’ve fixed that dress, Millie, and if you have, and you put it on — I'm ninety-seven percent certain that you'll gain all the powers of a mermaid. You'll be able to harvest a pearl of wisdom, and you'll be able to speak to your mother."

  "I don't believe it," said Millie, shaking her head. "I can't believe it."

  “”You won’t believe it. But you could try to,” said Reuben. "You could step into the sea, and put the dress on. It's a full moon tonight, and the sea is calm. The books say that the oysters which contain pearls of wisdom will glow blue beneath a full moon, and will be highly visible. If the dress works, you'll be able to swim in the sea as confidently as Lillieth can walk on land, when she's wearing it."

  "And if it doesn't work?" said Millie.

  "Then you either wait for Lillieth to return, and wait for another full moon. Or you read the letter your mother left for you, but then her words will no longer be unheard, and the spell will be lost to you,” said Reuben. “You’ll never speak with her.”

  "And if I get the pearl?" said Millie. "How does the spell work?"

  "That's the part that's worrying me more than thinking about you travelling into the depths of the ocean," said Reuben.

  "Why?" said Millie. “What’s so scary?”

  "Because to cast the spell, the letter must be burned. That's why this spell has rarely been cast by anybody in the past," said Reuben. "Unheard last words are normally spoken, and spoken words can't be captured and burned. The last words to you from your mother are in that envelope, but if we burn that letter, and the spell doesn't work…"

  Millie closed her eyes. Henry Pinkerton had informed her that he knew who her father was, but receiving the information from him would not be the same as receiving it from her mother. And anyway, Millie was sure the envelope didn't just contain a name — it would contain more than that.

  She hoped it would contain an explanation as to why her mother had lied to her about her father, and about the fact that she'd been a witch. She opened her eyes. "If the spell doesn't work," she said. "My mother's last words will be lost to me forever."

  "Yes," whispered Reuben.

  Millie pressed the soft fabric of Lillieth’s dress between a finger and thumb. "Then let's hope that when I get that pearl, the spell will work," she said, unhooking the dress from its hanging place.

  Chapter 16

  Having told Judith and Sergeant Spencer that she wanted to go for a walk alone along the beach, Millie took tentative steps towards the sea’s edge, the full moon casting her shadow over the gentle surf.

  With Lillieth’s dress in one hand, and her slip-on shoes in the other, she wiggled her toes in the sand and gazed out at the horizon wondering whether, if the spell did work, she’d have the courage to swim out into the darkness and the unknown.

  She took a sharp intake of breath as a rogue wave rode higher up the beach than the others, enveloping her feet and ankles in cold water. Reuben had surmised that the magic of the dress would give Millie all the qualities of a mermaid, including the ability to regulate her body temperature in even the coldest of water, and Millie hoped that her familiar was correct.

  Glancing along the beach in both directions, and checking behind her, Millie took a few steps back from the edge of the sea, slipped her T-shirt over her head and allowed her shorts to drop to the sand, enjoying the sensation of the warm breeze on her naked body.

  Tracing her steps back towards the sand dunes, she placed her clothing in a pile, with her shoes on top — a safe distance from the sea, and gathered as much courage as she could muster from within herself.

  With an image of her mother’s smiling face firmly imprinted on her mind, Millie stepped towards the water’s edge once more, Lillieth’s dress still in her hand, and cold sea spray chilling her legs.

  She stepped slowly into the sea, wishing that Spellbinder Bay was situated on the coast of the warm Adriatic, and not alongside the chilly English Channel. Bracing herself against the cold rolling waves, she ventured further into the surf until only her torso and head remained above water, her body trembling as the cold took hold.

  She ran through the three possible scenarios. Scenario one — she’d put the dress on and nothing would happen. Either she hadn’t fixed the magic in the dress, or the magic wouldn’t work in reverse. A disappointing outcome, but probably the safest. Scenario two — she’d put the dress on, transform into a beautiful mermaid, and swim away confidently in search of a pearl of wisdom.

  And the third scenario, the one which troubled Millie the most — she’d put the dress on, turn into a beautiful mermaid and sink in the surf, unable to control her new body, becoming tangled in the dress — unable to remove it before she drowned.

  A ball of anxiety swelling in her stomach, Millie looked at the moon and spoke in a whisper. “Wish me luck, Mum,” she said.

  Holding the dress above her in both hands, she drew the garment over her head, and allowed the soft silk to rest on her shoulders for a moment or two. Wondering at which point during the process of adorning the garment, the magic within the dress would be activated, she inserted her arms through the thin straps and allowed the material to slide down her body.

  As the hem of the dress touched the water, Millie got her answer, and she got it faster than she had expected — with hardly a chance of sucking in, and holding, a lungful of air.

  As if her legs had vanished from beneath her, Millie tumbled into the surf, her arms flailing as she attempted to keep itself afloat, but aware that the heavy weight where her legs had been was dragging her beneath the surface.

  Panic rising in her throat, she attempted to remove the dress, but realised with horror that the worst scenario she’d envisioned had come true — instead of calmly lifting the dress over her head, as she was commanding them to, her arms refused to cooperate, and flailed helplessly in the surf as she tried to get her head above the surface.

  Tangled in the garment, and with her lungs desperate for air, Millie realised with a calming acceptance which frightened her, that she needed to breathe. That she had to breathe. That she was going to breathe. That she was about to give in to the pain in her chest, and allow the sea to claim her. She searched for the ball of magic in her chest, hoping her powers would give her a last minute reprieve, but she felt nothing there, only a chunk of heavy despair which seemed to be adding to the weight which kept her from surfacing.

  Unable to bear the pain in her chest any longer, Millie closed her eyes, stopped struggling and allowed the seawater into her mouth, hoping she wouldn't suffer for too long. Expecting the salt water to flood her lungs quickly, she kept her eyes closed tight, waiting for the inevitable.

  The light-headedness which the lack of oxygen had caused beginning to leave her, Millie realised with growing hope that her body was becoming oxygenated, her lungs no longer hurting, and her arms gaining strength. Assuming she'd made it to the surface at the last moment, she opened her eyes and prepared to swim to shore.

  Instead of the white-tipped waves and full moon which she'd expected to see, Millie gazed around at the subsurface seascape and realised with both fear and delight that she was breathing — underwater.

  Not only was she breathing, but she felt at home in the water — everything seemed natural, and even her eyesight had adapted. Instead of the blurred shadows and hazy horizons which usually accompanied an underwater swim, her vision was sharp, the moonlight which filtered through the surface offering ample light, and casting the sand below her in a silvery glow.

  She concentrated on what was happening in her mouth and lungs, and realised that her chest was not rising and falling, and no water was in her lungs. In fact, no water had penetrated past her mouth — as if a force field was preventing seawater from entering her throat. Somehow, her body was extracting oxygen from the water in her mouth and nostrils, and she realis
ed with delight that she was in full control of her body.

  Her hair floating gently around her face, and the dress moulded tightly to her body as if fused with her skin, Millie drew the appendage which had once been her legs towards her chest, and smiled as she examined her fin.

  Speckled in purples and greens, the scales shimmering under the curtain of moonlight which lit the underwater scene, her fin merged almost seamlessly with Lillieth's dress, which had become a second skin — fitted tightly over her breasts and midriff, offering her a dignity she knew was wasted so far away from other people.

  Instinctively, she flicked her fin, the muscles in her stomach tightening, and her body slicing effortlessly through the water as she propelled herself forward.

  With a bubbling giggle, she flicked her fin again, this time with more power, and directed herself towards the surface — from which she burst in a shower of sea spray, and with a shout of delight.

  Mimicking the dolphins she'd seen playing in the bay, she twisted her body in the air and allowed herself to fall to the water, flicking her fin as she landed, and holding her arms tight against her body as she headed for deeper water.

  As the depth of water increased, the silvery sand below her gave way to coral — the purples, yellows and greens illuminated by beams of moonlight which shimmered, and seemed almost to move with the sea as the tide pushed towards the shore.

  Fish peered out of hiding holes in the coral, and a lobster scuttled across a bare patch of sand, heading for a refuge into which it vanished as Millie swam deeper to take a closer look. Spinning in the water, her shouts of joy lost to all but herself and the marine life which populated the depths, she sped through the sea, her body arching with every powerful flick of her fin.

  Not sure how far she'd swam, and not sure she cared, she noticed the coral had once more given way to sand, and the full moon — a blurred orb of blue and silver, had become smaller. Coming to a gentle halt, water currents making her hair dance, and the thin membrane which made up the V of her fin, sway — she hovered in the water, getting her emotions under control. Remembering she was there for a reason other than feeling freer than she'd ever felt before.