Iraina set a bottle of orange liquid on the desk. Next to it she set a mortar with pink petals in it.
‘‘See you use that before running the spell,’’ she said as she stepped back.
‘‘What for?’’ I eyed the bottle and mortar.
‘‘It’s Lammas,’’ Iraina said as if she couldn’t believe I’d forgotten.
‘‘Great. Another ritual for prosperity.’’ There simply wasn’t any logic in classical magic.
‘‘You really should keep better track of these things, Epiphany. You may use that,’’ she pointed at the computer, ‘‘but it’s still magic, dear. And I would suspect you could use a little prosperity about now.’’
It’s magic all right. If it weren’t, then a simple thing like a corrupted disk wouldn’t send people to Hel. I removed my PDA from my bag. I would have to contact Iraina via e-mail so she would know when to run Tim’s return spell. Since the Aether was the basis for the Internet, there shouldn’t be a problem with the e-mails.
I typed in the same parameters for the corrupted disk as when Bernie disappeared. Adding to my list of worries was whether or not the disk had been corrupted further. I needed the same result as last time. Tim sat next to the sphere and concentrated on the Aether. I showed Iraina how to run the spell disk when my e-mail arrived, then had her leave the circle. I mixed the orange liquid in with the petals and almost gagged. Roses and sandalwood oil. The odor was almost overpowering. Classical magic. I shook my head.
I stood next to the sphere with Tim on my shoulder and pushed the go code. ‘‘Okay,’’ I said and closed my eyes.
I didn’t see the flash if it happened. My eyes stayed closed until Tim tapped my shoulder. When I looked around, I saw a flat, orange plane. Scattered through it were rocky outcroppings. Orange.
‘‘Not as bad as I thought it’d be,’’ I said quietly. ‘‘Except for the color scheme.’’ I absently scratched my head under the wreath of spruce.
‘‘You were summoning a demon from here?’’ Tim sounded worried.
‘‘Hey, cash client. I didn’t ask too many questions.’’
‘‘You should ask more questions.’’ His grip on my shirt tightened. ‘‘This is not a good place.’’
I was going to ask him what he meant when we heard the scream. With Tim on my shoulder, I followed the sound to the far side of one of the rocky outcroppings. There we saw Bernie, and she wasn’t alone. She was scrambling up one of the boulders, trying to keep her feet off the ground. When I looked lower I saw why.
‘‘What is that?’’ I kept my distance. My concern for my sister was still in the mild stage and didn’t outweigh my self-preservation. Not yet.
‘‘Uh, I’m not sure,’’ Tim whispered.
‘‘Why are you whispering?’’ I whispered back.
‘‘Don’t you see it?’’ He pointed toward the thing but held tight with his other hand. ‘‘The Aether.’’
So that’s what it looked like. It was fascinating and repulsive at the same time, like code made flesh. It was hard to look away. The thing started to climb the boulder holding my sister. She screamed again. I didn’t think she knew we were there.
‘‘Bernie! Climb!’’ I shouted.
‘‘No!’’ Tim yelled.
‘‘What are you doing?’’ I hissed at him. Before he could answer, Bernie screamed again. She either hadn’t heard him or didn’t listen because she had turned and started climbing. She only got as far as the next higher boulder. Sitting above her was an exact copy of Tim except for the fact that it was six feet tall, not six inches. I swear it hadn’t been there a moment ago.
The djinn.
‘‘Tell her not to move,’’ Tim said. He began making hand gestures, not unlike those he used when helping me, and speaking a language I’d not heard him use before.
‘‘Bernie! Stop, don’t move.’’
The monstrous djinn spit something toward Tim and me. It landed a few feet in front of us. The stench was amazing. Sandalwood didn’t seem so bad now. I began to back up. Tim yanked my hair.
‘‘Stop,’’ he hissed in my ear. ‘‘Don’t move.’’
The djinn turned its attention back to my sister. Bernie hadn’t moved, either from fear or listening to me. A glow began to appear between Tim’s hands. When it was as large as a baseball he threw it at the djinn. The creature raised its hands to block the ball of light. It didn’t help. With a flash, the monstrous djinn faded away, but not before it let out an ear-piercing shriek.
‘‘That’s why you should ask questions.’’ Tim was as irate as I’d ever heard him be.
‘‘Okay, you win. Now what about the other problem?’’
‘‘I think it’s the worm from your computer. The presence of the Aether is somewhat odd, though. I suppose it’s the nature of the worm. That might be why your computer didn’t pick it up when your sister was online. It’s got magic in it. I think it would be best if it didn’t reach your sister.’’
Bernie hadn’t moved. The worm, on the other hand, had. It reached the boulder where she stood and, in one smooth movement, wrapped itself around Bernie’s leg. She collapsed before she could scream again. I made a start for the boulder when Tim yanked my hair again.
‘‘Don’t.’’
‘‘What do we do?’’
‘‘Uh, well.’’ Tim scratched his hairless head in thought. ‘‘Do you have a stick?’’
‘‘I’m serious!’’
‘‘Just kidding. My spell disk. You have an antivirus programmed in, don’t you?’’
‘‘Yes!’’ I’d built an automatic virus scan into Tim’s spell. When I had originally written the spell I hadn’t known what was capable of coming over the Aether. The scan had never picked anything up before. I’d forgotten it was even there.
I got my PDA out and sent the retrieval e-mail to Iraina. Moments later I received her reply. ‘‘Starting spell now.’’ I stepped as close as I dared to my sister and waited. It didn’t take long. I saw the flash this time. I had a momentary feeling of floating that I didn’t have the first time, then fell onto Iraina’s floor. The candles scattered, leaving trails of quickly cooling wax.
‘‘Are you all right, dear?’’ Iraina helped me up.
‘‘Yeah. Where’s Bernie?’’
‘‘Right here, dear.’’ She pointed to the floor behind me. Tim had fallen from my shoulder and was in the process of climbing back up.
‘‘Is she okay?’’ I asked Tim. There was no sign of the worm.
‘‘I suppose.’’ He cocked his head to one side and regarded Bernie lying on the ground. ‘‘She looks okay.’’
‘‘She looks out of it.’’ I waved my hand in front of her face. All she did was blink.
‘‘Did something happen? The spell disk ran the antivirus program just before you returned.’’ Iraina helped me up.
‘‘Bernie found the worm that caused all this mess in the first place.’’ I looked accusingly at my sister.
‘‘Cosmic justice. Not always pretty I’m afraid.’’ IRAINA shoved her hands into her apron pockets.
‘‘Understatement. I think I’d better get her home. Our mother is coming over.’’ I froze. ‘‘What time is it? I mean at home.’’ I looked at my PDA; it had switched to local time.
‘‘Uh, sometime in the afternoon, dear. Monday,’’ she added.
‘‘Shit! We’ve got to go. Now.’’
‘‘Are you sure that’s wise?’’ She came over to look at Bernie.
‘‘Irrelevant. I need her walking.’’
Iraina took a small silver box out her pocket. She opened it and pinched a bit of the powder that was inside. She put it into Bernie’s mouth.
‘‘Oh, my.’’ Iraina touched Bernie’s cheek.
‘‘What? What?’’ I looked closely at my sister then back at Iraina. ‘‘What?’’
‘‘Oh, probably nothing, Epiphany. Bernadette just looks a little pale.’’ She smiled at me. I was not reassured, but I was running out of time. A
few moments later, my sister was functioning enough to walk. I threw my stuff back into my bag. With Tim on one shoulder and Bernie leaning on the other I headed for the door.
‘‘Thanks, Iraina. I’m sorry about just taking off.’’
‘‘Don’t worry dear. I read your curds while you were gone. You’ll be back soon.’’ She smiled as she held the door open. ‘‘Oh, wait. You’d better take this, dear.’’ She reached into her apron deeper than I would have thought possible and pulled out a leather pouch. It was tied with something’s hair. She held it out.
‘‘What’s that for?’’ I reached out slowly for it.
‘‘Just something you might need.’’ She shrugged. ‘‘I mean, after all, it isn’t every day you send your sister to the Aether, go to retrieve her, do battle with a demon, fight a worm, and return home now, is it?’’ She smiled. It wasn’t a simple smile. It was an ‘‘I know something’’ smile.
I hate those smiles.
‘‘Uh, okay. Thanks.’’ If I’d had time, I would have asked her more about it. As it was, I was just hopeful I could make it back to my apartment in time. I shoved the pouch into my pocket. It squished. Was there a law against witches using plastic bags?
Once back in Santa Cruz I made record time back to my apartment, considering I was dragging my sister. Once inside the apartment, the first thing I did was to drop Bernie on the couch. The second thing I did was to pack her suitcase. It was amazing how much stuff she’d needed for one lousy night. I made sure to throw her mp3 player in extra hard. I brought the suitcase out from the spare room and saw Bernie trying to stand.
‘‘What happened?’’ She wobbled as she stood.
‘‘You don’t remember?’’ I heard the microwave beep as I went into the kitchen.
‘‘Not really. I had the weirdest dream though.’’
‘‘You were in—’’ Tim started. I glared at him.
‘‘Yeah, okay.’’ I shoved a cup of instant coffee into her hands. ‘‘Drink this. I packed your stuff already.’’ I wanted nothing more than to get my sister out of my apartment. I wanted to clean up my computer. I wanted things the way they were. As I stood watching her, the doorbell rang.
Salvation! Our mother was here.
‘‘Get your stuff.’’ I went to the door and glanced back to make sure Bernie had heard me. I froze. The thing now leaning over the suitcase was shaped like my sister all right, but it had the appearance of the worm. My sister was code made flesh. My sister had been corrupted.
‘‘Crap.’’ I grabbed a blanket off the couch and threw it over Bernie. Grabbing the corners of the blanket I pulled her into the spare room and shut the door. ‘‘Stay in here.’’ I didn’t know if she could hear me or even understand me. I whirled around, looking for Tim. ‘‘We’ve got a problem.’’ I found him sitting next to the sphere.
‘‘I’d say so, yes.’’ He looked up thoughtfully from the computer desk.
‘‘Less analysis. More help,’’ I snarled. The doorbell rang again. ‘‘Shit.’’
‘‘I think your mother is here.’’
‘‘That’s not the kind of help I meant.’’
‘‘Just can’t seem to please you, can I? Well, then. Check your pocket.’’ He pointed to the small bulge in my jeans. I reached in to find the pouch Iraina had given me. I pulled it out. Not only was it still squishy but it also stank now.
‘‘It smells like mosquito repellent.’’ I held the bag away from me.
‘‘Citronella. Cleansing and warding.’’ He sniffed the air. ‘‘And cedar wood. Healing. Also for unhexing, I believe.’’
‘‘Unhexing? Unhexing what?’’ I stared at him.
He looked towards the spare room. ‘‘Iraina made up a medicine bag.’’ He pointed at the pouch. ‘‘Just in case, I guess.’’
‘‘And what do I do with it?’’
‘‘No idea.’’ Tim smiled. ‘‘Not a clue.’’
‘‘You’re just a fount of useless information aren’t you?’’ I didn’t expect an answer, and I didn’t get one. Tim simply faded out of view. Probably pouting. I grabbed my PDA and sent an e-mail off to Iraina. I marked it urgent. The doorbell rang a third time. If I didn’t find out what to do with the stupid pouch soon, my mother was going remember she had the key to the apartment. I couldn’t remember why I’d thought giving her the key was a good idea.
My PDA pinged at me. Iraina had replied. ‘‘It’s an infusion of oils. Rub it on her, dear, of course.’’ Of course. I didn’t know if it would work. I only knew that Iraina had a keen sense for the unusual, and I’d have to trust that. I really couldn’t do better than a technologically savvy witch.
As I ran back to the spare room, I yelled towards the front door. ‘‘Be there in a minute, Mom!’’
I opened the door to the spare room slowly. Bernie was standing where I’d left her. The blanket was still thrown over her. I pulled the blanket off. The sight of her made me shiver. I opened the pouch and pulled out a wad of cloth. It was saturated with the oils. Keeping my hand well covered with the cloth, I began to rub my sister’s face and head. I worked my way down her arms, across her chest and down her back. I heard the front door open. I kicked the room door shut and stood back and waited. The room stank of the aromatic oils. My sister no doubt stank as well.
To my relief and surprise, the coding began to fade. My sister’s face was returning. She looked at me in utter confusion. As I let out the breath I’d been holding, the door to the room opened.
I turned around and smiled.
‘‘Hi, Mom.’’
I shoved Bernie and her bag into my mother’s arms. Then I shoved both of them through the front door, ignoring every word.
First chance I had, I planned to look up a locksmith.
With the apartment finally quiet, I felt the pull. The Aether was calling to me. Putting on my headphones, I answered its call.
Narrator: Peace and quiet descends around Epiphany Jones once more. There’s nothing quite like a family visit to make you appreciate your privacy, especially when a misspell is involved.
JANET ELIZABETH CHASE is originally from Northern California and has her BA from the University of California at San Diego. Her past professions include working in live news, owning her own video post-production company, and the occasional stint as a corner sound person for boxing in Las Vegas. She is currently a full-time mom with a part-time writing habit. Her favorite color is green, her favorite number is seven, and her favorite food is sauerbraten with kartoffelpuffers. Janet spends her spare time playing air violin to the music of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. She lives with her husband, two children, and an assortment of interesting pets in Pleasant Valley, Nevada.
Eye of Newt
Marc Mackay
Narrator: The Griffith School of Magic. A hallowed place of tradition and learning. A place where students learn from renowned teachers and those teachers encourage an atmosphere of true scholarship. Which is all very well and good until there’s to be a dance.
"Eye of newt?"
Nina Whiting looked over at Mildred, who had the large grimoire open in front of her.
"Tell me you did not just say ’eye of newt,’ " she said.
Mildred Gilly bit her upper lip and looked around the empty classroom as if afraid someone in the hall might have heard. Nina knew her friend didn’t like this sneaking around stuff.
Mildred flipped through the pages of the book.
‘‘That’s what’s written,’’ she replied. ‘‘It’s the first ingredient in the list. As a matter of fact, all the potions in here have eye of newt as one of the components. ’’
Nina sighed. ‘‘That’s typical.’’
‘‘Of what?’’ asked Mildred.
‘‘Mistress Truax,’’ replied Nina. ‘‘She’s very old school. I mean she still wears a pointed hat for crying out loud.’’
When Nina had entered the Griffith School of Magic, she and her fellow students couldn’t help but notice Mistress Truax. She’d
stood there with the other teachers and the headmaster, wearing a flowing black gown and a large coned hat with stars adorning it.
At first Nina had thought that Mistress Truax was playing a prank on the new students. She was later told that it was no joke. Sibley Garrath had revealed how the Mistress believed a true witch should embrace the old. Worse, she wanted Headmaster Griffith to impose a dress code. Lucky for them, he believed students should be allowed to express themselves.
‘‘What does her being old fashioned have to do with eye of newt as an ingredient?’’ asked Mildred.
‘‘Come on, Mildred, think,’’ said Nina, exasperated. She watched her try to reason it out.
Nina and Mildred had been friends all their lives. Together they’d found out that they had the power to handle magic.
When they’d heard the news that they were both accepted into the Griffith School of Magic, the most prestigious of all the schools, they’d been delighted.
But Nina sometimes thought Mildred was a little slow on the uptake.
Like right now.
‘‘I still don’t see what you’re getting at,’’ Mildred finally said, shaking her head in frustration.
Nina sighed.
‘‘What’s the first thing that usually comes to someone’s mind when they think about witches brewing potions?’’ she asked her friend.
‘‘Eye of newt?’’ ventured Mildred.
‘‘Exactly,’’ said Nina. ‘‘Every time, it’s ‘eye of newt’ this and ‘eye of newt’ that.’’ She rolled her eyes. ‘‘You must’ve gotten at least one newt comment when you told your friends and family you were a witch?’’
Mildred nodded.
‘‘A couple,’’ she said. ‘‘But I still don’t see what Mistress Truax being old fashioned has to do with this.’’
‘‘Because she buys into all this stuff,’’ answered Nina. ‘‘You don’t have to wear the pointed hat and dark clothes to be a witch, do you?’’
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