Magical Redemption

by Nicola E. Sheridan

  “Hey, Tim,” she called as he marched without any luggage to the tube station. “You forgot this,” she cried, pointing to backpack and his suitcase.

  “Huh?” He spun around. “Oh, thanks.” He grinned in his goofy way. “Where are you heading?”

  “Tim, it’s me,” she whispered as a few on-lookers eavesdropped.

  “Oh. Right. Geez, I’m sorry.” He clapped a skinny arm around her waist and drew her to him. “You couldn’t do the blonde and boob thing again, could you?” he asked with a wink. “It might jog my memory.”

  Jinx shook her head and shrugged him away. “Get a life.”

  London was cold, although there was no snow. A sky of deep gray loomed above the bustling city, carpeting it in smog. Jinx shivered.

  “We’re staying at my aunt’s house. She’s in Tenerife at the moment,” Tim said as they sunk down into the muggy train carriage.

  “I know, you keep telling me...” Jinx rolled her eyes.

  “She said to get off at Hammersmith and then catch a bus to Mortlake. After that, it’s just a short walk. Well, my aunt said so...she could be pulling my leg and sending us on a wild goose chase.” Tim chuckled heartily. “Either way, we’ll get there eventually, but first we must pick up the house keys from her friend who runs Simper’s Café on Lower Richmond Road. I haven’t been here since I was maybe ten years old.” He was rambling, now.

  Jinx yawned. Tim had explained their plan of action at least four times. After an interminably long time switching trains and waiting for buses, they finally found themselves in the London suburb of Mortlake.

  Jinx looked around. It was nice enough. Semi-detached houses and sweet, little shops lined narrow streets with trees and carefully tended gardens. She clutched Tim’s hand as he began to wander off, once again without his bags.

  “Hey,” she said, again. “I can’t carry all these by myself.”

  Tim stared at her for a moment before recognition filtered through. “Of course not.” He chuckled. “I’m just excited.”

  “Hmmm,” Jinx replied and stalked off with her own wheelie suitcase to find Simper’s Café. Tim trotted behind her. After five minutes walking up the street one way, they consulted his cell phone and looked up a map, which told them they were heading in the wrong direction. It was dark now, and the icy wind that had thus far been warded off by warm buses and trains attacked them with full force. Jinx shivered and cast a warming spell around her. She looked around for any official-looking people but didn’t see any–it was unlikely she would be caught using magic here. Cloaked in warm, rainbow-hued, spicy smoke, she felt much better. She may look odd, but it didn’t matter. The streets were practically deserted now as even the after-work rush hour subsided to a piddling trickle.

  “Here it is,” Tim said as a bus roared past, nearly deafening them.

  Jinx looked ahead. She saw a small café nestled between two houses just a few meters ahead.

  “Great,” she replied with little enthusiasm. Tim jogged forward. There was a gnarled, old woman neatly stacking chairs from the alfresco area that spilled onto the pavement. Jinx felt a tickle of unease scurry down her spine. She watched warily as Tim shrugged off his backpack and dropped his suitcase at the door of the café. He entered with a cheerful wave and closed the door behind him.

  The gnarled, old woman stared at Jinx.

  She stared back and stood beside Tim’s discarded baggage. The back of her legs tingled with nerves.

  Why am I nervous? Jinx stomped her feet and waggled her calves to loosen the tight, tingling muscles. It was then she smelled something. There was something else beyond the cloying warmth of her magic. Jinx immediately stopped her cloaking spell to get a better feel. She looked around. Nothing seemed out of place in the street. Yet, she knew somewhere close, something magical was going on.

  * * * *

  A few meters above Jinx, Lucian still hung in his invisible and magical prison, weaker, thirstier, and hungrier than ever.

  The old woman is packing up for the day, he thought dully. He glanced down. Hester and Fess curled up in a corner and were sleeping. Thankfully, Fess ate the pigeon, but the tormenting bottle of water remained, goading and teasing him, completely unattainable. The Family tormented him too; they would come every few days and give him a little water and even less food. He cursed himself for being born to a long-lived race. If he was human, he’d have died weeks ago. As it stood, weakened though he undoubtedly was, his body would endure this punishment for months, years even. The thought filled him with dread. Releasing a slow, pained groan, Lucian took a deep inhalation of frosty air. It was then he smelled it. The gentle perfume of star anise and cinnamon wafted up from the street. It was teasing, faint, and immediately taken by the wind, but he knew the scent well. It was undeniably the scent of a genie. Lucian flared his nostrils again and stared down through the transparent floor. There stood a thin, large-nosed woman. Dressed in leggings and a long knitted black dress, she looked around curiously.

  “I’m up here,” Lucian yelled and thrashed against his bonds.

  The woman spun around as if she heard a mosquito near her ear. She shivered in the cold. Lucian watched her like the proverbial hawk as she muttered something to herself. Then, even in the dim light, Lucian saw sinuous swathes of rainbow-colored smoke wrap themselves around her like the arms of a lover. She was a genie–and Lucian needed her lamp.

  Chapter Two

  What is taking Tim so long? Jinx thought after cloaking herself again with a warming spell. The grinding sense of unease grew stronger. Whatever magic was lurking in this place was not good. She reached up and scratched the back of her neck.

  “All sorted,” Tim exclaimed cheerfully.

  Jinx jumped. Her necklace caught on a fray on her sleeve and tinkled to the ground.

  Tim scooped it up. “Hey, you dropped this,” he called. She turned around and saw her crucifix chain dangling from his hand.

  “Thanks.” She glanced at it as she took it from him. It was a solid gold chain nearly a centimeter in width. The clasp had given way and broken–she’d have to mend it later. Right now, however, she simply wanted to get as far away from Simper’s Café as possible. The magic in the air wasn’t good and crawled over her scalp like head-lice. She shivered again but not from cold. She quickly shoved the chain into the front pocket of her bag and took off down the street at a lively pace. “Come on,” she shouted.

  Shrugging, Tim remembered his backpack and luggage. He put the house keys in his pocket and set off after Jinx.

  * * * *

  Above them, Lucian woke Hester and Fess.

  “Did you smell that?” he asked them. Fess raised his enormous, red head and blinked at him. “It’s a genie,” he moaned as a hot poker of pain stabbed down his arms. “Get it. Get the lamp.”

  Hester licked an enormous paw. She smelled strongly of burnt toast–she must be coming into season, again. Lucian groaned. “Go, now.” Soon, she wouldn’t listen to a word he said, and Fess would shadow her every move.

  Both Hellcats considered the order.

  “Go, now,” Lucian screamed, again. Hester bared her black teeth and growled at him. Lucian swung a leg at her. “Just do it.”

  Spitting a hot gob of saliva at Lucian’s foot, Hester turned and looked at Fess. Lucian held his breath. If his training had worked, they would both go. Fess looked up at him with great, red eyes. Lucian struggled to remain implacable. Now was not the time to show weakness to a Hellcat. Then, with a slight snarl, both Hellcats disappeared without a trace.

  Lucian hung his head, trying to fight the excruciating screaming of his muscles. He closed his eyes and rested his chin on his chest, hoping against hope the Hellcats would do as he bid them. He tried to calm himself by listening to the slow, rhythmic beat of his own heart.

  “Hello, Lucian,” said a rumbling, low
voice from below.

  The slow rhythm of his heart suddenly began to hammer. With substantial will, he forced it to return to its slower pace. He opened his eyes, loathing every tiny inch of the person below him.

  The Pater Rex stood on the floor of Lucian’s transparent cell. The tiny gnome was the head of the Family, otherwise known as the Magical Mafia. He looked angry. The twitch that affected him ever since his wife’s soul was forced to share his miniscule body became more prominent as he blinked up at Lucian. Around the tiny gnome, invisible magicians shimmered, always protecting, always watching. The Pater Rex ran a microscopic hand through a long, white beard then over his round belly. He fondled the glassy red button on his green waistcoat. “What have you been doing, Lucian?” he snapped, kicking at the water bottle. “Trying to get your useless pets to help you?” He laughed, but his twitch interrupted mid-peal.

  “How’s Devika?” Lucian snarled.

  The Pater Rex’s tiny, red face paled. He contorted his features and opened his mouth into a wordless “O” before slamming into a flat line. “How dare you speak of my wife,” he bellowed. Using his own magic, he sent a painful smack of power straight into Lucian’s chest. The magic burned and bubbled Lucian’s skin and hissed with a new agony.

  Lucian knew through the blinding haze of pain that something was awry. The rage in the small man’s eyes was new, and the absence of his wife conspicuous. Where Pater Rex went, Devika usually closely followed. Lucian saw neither hide nor scale of the wretched naga in weeks, and the little gnome’s tic was becoming worse. It was…curious.

  “Years ago, you pledged your very soul to me. I helped you. Now, you betray me? I treated you like family. Will you repent?” the Pater Rex barked, his hand poised to throw another smack of magic.

  Lucian glowered down at the gnome. “No.”

  The tiny face of the Pater Rex puffed with fury. “Have you learned nothing from your punishment?” he yelled. “Have you any idea how much your betrayal has cost our Family?” He twitched. “How much your betrayal has cost me?” The Pater Rex gulped. “You will suffer.” Spit flew from his mouth with every word. “You let Antigone and Omar go. We have to train another Nephilim. We have no genie. It’s all your fault. You let us lose the one chance we had. The one chance I had.” The Pater Rex sent another smack of magic at Lucian. It shot through the air with a shimmering spark, ripping into Lucian’s exposed belly. A spatter of blood rained down as Lucian groaned in earnest. “No food for you, and no drink for you. Nothing until you learn. Nothing until you repent,” the gnome screamed.

  Lucian said nothing. He didn’t blink as he returned the Pater Rex’s stare. Why don’t they just kill me?

  The Pater Rex huffed angrily. “Enjoy yourself. You’re going to be hanging around for a very long time.” Then, he disappeared in a shimmer of magic.

  * * * *

  Not far away, Tim and Jinx were safely ensconced in Aunt Dianne Worthington’s Mortlake semi-detached home. Exhausted from their travels, they both discarded their luggage at the door and melted into the highly floral lounge-room suite. Jinx lifted her heavy eyes and noticed that nearly everything in Aunt Dianne’s home was floral, from the patterned curtains and framed lace-clad windows to the carpet smothered with floral rugs. The lounge suite, soft and cushy, was strewn with immensely flowered cushions. Floral embossed wallpaper covered the walls, and dusty, dried, and imitation flowers filled numerous vases. The floral theme was so loud and clashing, it threatened Jinx with a headache. She snapped her eyes shut, again.

  “Are you hungry?” Tim murmured, half asleep.

  She shook her head and looked at him. “Nah,” she replied. “That weird smoked salmon on the airplane was a bit iffy. What about you?”

  “A bit,” he murmured and peeled one eye open a fraction to look at her.

  Sighing with irritation, Jinx closed her eyes, again. “You’re not my master, you know. I don’t have to do this,” she grumbled; however, with a puff of spicy smoke, a small platter of chicken nuggets, chips, and a diet coke appeared beside Tim.

  “Thanks,” he exclaimed, suddenly more awake. Jinx rolled her eyes again and watched as he dove into the food with enthusiasm.

  Jinx was just about to close her eyes to escape from the loud decor and Tim’s disgusting dining habits, when the smell of burnt toast wafted past her nose. She sniffed.

  “Can you smell that?” she asked. The same prickly, uneasy feeling came creeping back.

  “What?” Tim asked.

  “That smell...” She turned her head as Tim’s pale face turned green. Something snuffled behind her, but she didn’t want to turn around. Tim gasped. The burning smell became intense, and the room seemed unnaturally hot. She heard more snuffling sounds.

  Taking a large gulp, Jinx finally turned around. Two massive, flame-furred creatures were scrabbling through their luggage. There was a fierce ripping sound as an ebony claw slashed through the canvas of Tim’s backpack.

  “They’re Hellcats,” Jinx squeaked and immediately created a smoky shield of safety around Tim and her. Through the swirling smoke surrounding them, she saw one of the Hellcats raise a massive head and sniff the air. It turned and narrowed its violent, red eyes at her. The creature curled its lip. Then, with a purposeful blink, it turned away and renewed its single-minded digging through the remains of Tim’s bag.

  “I didn’t know Aunt Dianne had pets,” Tim cried. “What is it doing?” he whispered in a high-pitched voice.

  “They’re not pets. Hellcats can’t be pets,” Jinx retorted. “At least, they don’t seem to want us. It looks like they just want your bag…” The words died on her lips. The Hellcat on the left let loose a rumbling, belly growl and raised its head. Held in its black-toothed mouth was a shiny white and blue porcelain lamp.

  “My lamp,” Jinx croaked. She took a terrified glance at Tim. He looked positively sick.

  Who was sending Hellcats after her lamp? What kind of being had the ability to control Hellcats? She didn’t want to know and much less wanted such a being to be her new master.

  “I’m going to have to go,” Jinx whimpered as the Hellcats disappeared. “I’ve got to follow the lamp.” She could barely finish the last sentence when a sick pulling ripped through the very fibers of her being. “Agh,” she screamed. Sharing a last horrified stare with Tim, she disappeared in an explosion of smoke.

  * * * *

  “Stand on your hind legs and push the damned lamp against my foot,” a furious male voice yelled. “I’ve got to touch it.”

  Jinx appeared the very moment her lamp touched the man’s skin. Completely disorientated, she spun around. She was standing in mid-air.

  “Agh,” she shrieked. An intense feeling of vertigo caused her to stumble. She looked around wildly. Aside from the Hellcats, there was nothing to grab onto. She collapsed and landed on hard, transparent nothingness. Cool air blew up from beneath her, as if the nothingness had small perforations. She stared down at the pavement several meters beneath her. The Hellcats growled. The skin on Jinx’s neck prickled.

  “You won’t fall,” a cold voice said.

  For a brief moment, Jinx closed her eyes and took a deep, centering breath. She could scream, be terrified and childish about this, or she could act like the genie she was.

  She would stand and greet her master.

  Trying not to look tentative, Jinx stood on the invisible ground. She scanned the space around her. The Hellcats were lounging not far to the left, and her lamp was resting on the floor a meter in front of her. A bottle of water lay directly to her right.

  “I’m up here,” the voice said, again.

  Jinx looked up and gasped. Above her, strung up by his wrists, a man hung from space.

  He was dressed only in frayed, black trousers. His body was lean and wiry, with muscles pulled taut by the constraints on his wrists. H
e had a nasty-looking burn on his chest and a slowly oozing cut on his abdomen. The man looked down at her with cold, brown eyes set in a grime-covered face. He smelled bad, too.

  Jinx gulped. She was determined to be professional and prepped herself for her introduction.

  “Hello, my name is Jinx.”

  The man shot up his eyebrows in surprise. “I am your genie for the duration of three wishes. I am currently registered in both Australia and the UK. Please note that any wishes for financial advancement are likely to be investigated and are illegal in most countries―”

  “You can quit the spiel,” he said, staring down at her.

  A waft of his gut-curdling stench suddenly descended upon her. She instinctively covered him with a light rainbow cloak of smoke and uttered the velox purgo spell. When the smoke dissipated, the man was clean and dressed in jeans and a soft, gray sweater.

  “I don’t think anyone should smell as bad as your manners,” Jinx said sharply, waiting for a word of thanks.

  She was disappointed. The man was dangerously handsome now that the grime was gone. He merely barked, “Get me down.”

  A tight coil of dread tightened in Jinx’s chest. He was a control freak. This was not going to be a fun assignment. She stiffened her shoulders and cut him down with a hot smack of smoky magic.

  The arrogant man fell the two meters to lay crumpled and groaning on the transparent floor.

  That’ll learn ya. She smothered a smile.

  After a few more moments of groaning, rubbing wrists, and swinging his arms around, the man looked up and caught her gaze. A scuttle of shock marched crab-like up her throat. The eyes meeting hers were cool and assessing, but the face holding them was flawless. Jinx momentarily couldn’t breathe for the unexpected and unwanted swoop of attraction she felt.