The Ondine Collection

by Ebony McKenna

  “We are here,” Thomas and Margi said together, half laughing.

  Everyone stood to attention and turned to see them.

  “Then come forth!” the celebrant said, beckoning them with an exaggerated hand gesture.

  The quartet played a stirring wedding march. Thomas and Margi walked together, arm in arm to stand before the celebrant.

  Hamish stood beside Ondine and placed a comforting palm in the middle of her back. Warmth spread through her.

  As Margi and Thomas reached the base of the elm, a flock of birds twittered in the air above them and landed on the branches. Then, to Ondine’s amazement, the tree’s bare and skeletal branches burst into bud. The crowd gasped in surprise and awe as branch after branch, going higher and higher, became covered in pink and white buds. Those buds then unfurled into flower.

  Everybody applauded, scaring the birds off temporarily, but as they stopped clapping the birds returned to the branches and chirped happily.

  “That’s a nice touch so it is.” Hamish kissed Ondine on the top of her head.

  “It’s amazing!” Ondine wiped away a tear. “How nice of Old Col to do that.”

  “Ye think it was her?”

  “She’s the nicest witch here,” she said.

  The crowd broke into more applause as doves descended onto the branches and began to coo. Ondine rested her head against Hamish’s shoulder and felt completely at peace with the world.

  Old Col turned and looked at Ondine and Hamish, a puzzled expression on her face. It didn’t look like the kind of face that had just made some crowd-pleasing magic. Then her eyes grew large and her mouth dropped open, as if she’d worked something out. Before Ondine could work out what it was Old Col had worked out, her great-aunt quickly shut her mouth and turned back to face the elm.

  Hamish said, “Aye, nice to see Auntie Col using magic for good instead of spite.”

  The tree in full bloom completely changed the snowy scenery. Soon, some of the small pink and white petals dropped from the tree and fluttered down onto the crowd below like confetti.

  The ceremony got underway. There were some loving words, they swapped rings, exchanged vows and held hands. Ondine and Hamish were so far down the back they didn’t hear much, but they saw Thomas wipe his eye and Margi smile at him so sweetly it set everyone off in floods of happy tears. As one, the women clutched at handkerchiefs and dabbed their eyes. The men cleared their throats and coughed. The celebrant declared them joined forever. Margi and Thomas kissed and the string quartet started up. As ushers, Ondine and Hamish would need to move everyone on fairly soon. Being December, and being the wedding elm gardens, there were more brides and grooms with families and friends waiting nearby for their turn. So long as the immigration inspectors let them through.

  Being so busy with her duties, Ondine barely registered Old Col approaching them.

  “Making the tree burst into leaf is a charming touch,” Col said.

  Strings figuratively snapped in Ondine’s head and she became even more confused than usual. “You didn’t make the elm bloom?”

  Old Col shook her head. “No.”

  Ondine felt sure Col’s magic had made the tree bud. Was it Mrs. Howser? It seemed too nice a gesture to be from her. Perhaps Margi had extra talents she hadn’t told anyone about? “If you didn’t do it, Col, who did?”

  Her great-aunt folded her arms across her chest and gave Ondine a searching look. “I would have thought that was obvious. You did!”

  Chapter Seven

  ​

  “Me?” Ondine drew in a staggered breath from the shock of it all. “But I don’t have magic!”

  They still had to move everybody on – issuing thank-you cards with a map on the reverse side directing them to the family pub, The Duke and Ferret, for the reception dinner. A van pulled up and a small team of workers appeared, collecting all the folding chairs and gathering up the decorations. They were so efficient they virtually swiped the chairs while people were still sitting on them.

  “It has to be you, Ondi, who else could it be?” Old Col sounded annoyed.

  “But I didn’t do it.”

  “Aye, go easy,” Hamish chimed in to defend her.

  “Of course,” Old Col took a breath. “I’m sorry if I sound cross. I’m so cold I’m trying to stop my teeth from chattering. But Ondi, I’m serious. Whether you realise it or not, this is your doing. Yours and Hamish’s.”

  In mute shock, Ondine and Hamish looked at each other.

  Col kept on. “Why is this a surprise? Surely you’ve noticed all the strange things going on? It started when we arrived in Bellreeve a few months ago. I thought it was the palace, but then the weirdness followed us back to Venzelemma. More to the point, it followed you back to Venzelemma.”

  “I’m nawt magic,” Hamish protested.

  “You can change into a ferret at will,” Col said.

  “Aye, but that was yer doing, nae mine.”

  Cogs turned in Ondine’s head and a few twigs began to snap. A strange feeling grew in her tummy at the thought she might be capable of magic. It would be nice to be able to do some things, but what if she got cross and turned someone into a toad in a moment of anger and couldn’t turn them back?

  Then again, if she had magic, might that make life easier? A sprout of confusion and hope unfurled. Maybe magic could help Hamish get a work card? Questions swirled like snow flurries. If Col was right and she did have magic, why didn’t she know it? Why didn’t she feel it? Aside from feeling wonderful whenever she and Hamish were together, which was a kind of magic all of its own.

  But on the serious side, if she did have magic, how was she supposed to use it to her advantage if she didn’t even know when she was using it?

  The last guest departed. The hired help did a lightning-fast job of clearing away any signs of Margi and Thomas’s ceremony, so that the next group could set up.

  Col took Ondine by the arm. “We’ll talk about it on the way back. Our ride awaits.”

  Henrik held the carriage door open for Cybelle and helped her in, then he stepped in after her and they sat together, holding hands. Hamish followed and held his hand out for Ondine. She was so busy smiling at his gallantry she didn’t register Old Col jumping in ahead of her.

  Col winked at Hamish and said, “What lovely manners you have.”

  If her forehead weren’t pulled back so tightly, Ondine would have frowned at her great-aunt’s pushiness. Col sat herself in the middle of the bench seat, so Ondi and Hamish had to sit either side of her.

  The hot rocks they had earlier placed in the carriage to keep them warm had gone cold but the flask still held hot chocolate, so that was a plus. Cybelle carefully poured steaming half-full cups to avoid sloshing it over their pristine clothes.

  Ondine turned her collar up against the cold as the driver clicked his tongue and the horse clip-clopped down the cobblestone street.

  Being a Wednesday, Ondine could see people bringing their drying clothes in from their window lines, in time for laundry curfew. [204]

  Old Col made an exaggerated ‘aaaaah’ sound as she sipped her drink. “So, Henrik and Cybelle, have you noticed anything strange or out of the ordinary since Ondine and Hamish returned from their adventures with the Duke?”

  “We’re booked out every night,” Cybelle said. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but we’ve never been so busy. Christmas is going to be a nightmare.”

  “And they’re eating more,” Henrik said.

  Ondine had noticed that too. “Everyone eats more in winter. Don’t they?”

  With a raised eyebrow Cybelle said, “Licking the plates clean?”

  Baffled looks passed between everyone. Uneasiness spread through Ondine.

  Col pursed her lips in thought, then said, “Let’s talk about the bison on the sofa shall we?” [205]

  All eyes fell on Ondine. “What have I done?”

  “The elm, my dear. You made that happen,” Col said. “Believe me, I�
�d take the credit for it if I’d thought of it, but all praise to you. It was a lovely touch.”

  Rolling her eyes – ouch, darned pins pulling her skin so tightly – Ondine tried to control her frustration. “But it wasn’t me! Maybe some of Margi’s friends are witches – or maybe someone from Thomas’s family?”

  Col shook her head. “I was sitting close to the Bergers; the magic didn’t radiate from them. It came from behind me. The moment the ceremony concluded and everyone moved forward to congratulate the bride and groom, I started walking towards the origin of the magic. I was looking for a witch. Instead, I found you. I might also add Birgit Howser looked around as well, wondering who’d done it.”

  Hearing Mrs Howser’s name made things move uneasily in Ondine’s stomach. She also wished Col wasn’t sitting between her and Hamish, because she could really use more of his support right now. “I was only looking at the elm and thinking about how much nicer it would be if they’d had a summer or an autumn wedding, but that’s because I was cold. Everyone’s cold! I’m sure everyone was thinking the same thing.

  “In fact, if it was me doing the magic, why didn’t I feel anything? And while we’re at it, why can’t I make this small carriage warm up a few degrees?”

  At which point Col stood up and squished herself beside Cybelle. The movement left Ondine sitting alone with cold air swirling around. Hamish scooted over and wrapped his arm over her shoulder. She closed her eyes into the embrace and felt instantly warmer.

  “Nice one!” Henrik said.

  Ondine’s eyes flashed open to see Henrik, Cybelle and Old Col buried under an enormous fleecy blanket. Henrik tucked it neatly around them and he and Cybelle cuddled closer. First eggshells, now blankets. Henrik and Cybelle were excellent pranksters. “Stop winding me up!” Ondine said. Honestly, it was as if Henrik and Cybelle had nothing better to do than tease her! “I can’t believe you’d get Col involved in one of your jokes.”

  “Ondi love, I dinnae think it was them,” Hamish said, swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

  “Oh not you too?” Ondine couldn’t bear the thought of Hamish being on Cybelle’s side.

  “Nay lassie. I think they’re being serious this time.”

  “But I didn’t wish for a blanket,” she said. Hamish’s warm body was no match against the cold fear nibbling inside her.

  “I sure did,” Cybelle said.

  A look of remorse crossed Henrik’s face. “I’m sorry for the joke this morning with the eggs. Because now you don’t want to believe us.”

  Cybelle snickered behind her hand and turned to Henrik. “It was good though.”

  “The best.” They bumped their fists together.

  Why didn’t Ondine and Hamish have a blanket as well then? What’s the point of having magic if you can’t make your own life more comfortable? A heavy feeling of dread grew in the area of Ondine’s liver, then moved at a leisurely pace to her lower intestine. Ondine wished to heavens the feeling would go away, but it showed no intention of leaving any time soon. If anything, the hideous feeling invited its nasty friends over. A veritable party of sickness rocked and rolled inside her.

  At least she had Hamish looking after her. He cuddled her into his body, sharing his warmth. “If I really do have magic, then why am I so cold?”

  It was Cybelle’s turn to roll her eyes. “You need to use it properly. Didn’t you pick up anything useful at Summercamp? Apart from Hamish, that is.”

  A miserable, “why now?” startled Ondine with its whininess.

  “Aye, I was wondering that meself. Why now, Col? Ye didnae raise this at Bellreeve and we were there fer weeks.”

  A look of resignation came over Col’s greying face. “Because of the weird magic. Because of every light turning green and causing the worst traffic snarls we’ve ever seen. Because of what happened today at the elm. Because of what it signifies. I thought – mistakenly as it turns out – that things were strange at the palace because Bellreeve is an incredibly strange place and so many weird things have happened there over the years. But lately, every time something unexplained happens, you’re there, Ondi.”

  Ondine swallowed her nausea. “You were there too! You were at the palace. The minute you crossed the threshold into the palace grounds, there was a tornado. It rained fish! And then today, you were standing by the elm tree with everyone else. Surely it’s your magic, not mine?”

  Col’s words sounded so patronising. “My dear, when I use magic, I absolutely feel it. Today at the elm, I felt nothing.”

  “Well . . .” Ondine mentally scratched for answers. “You’re old! Maybe you forgot what it feels like?”

  Indignation radiated from Great-Aunt Col as she sat up straighter. “I will forgive you your outburst because of the stress of the situation.”

  “Whoa Geta!” So absorbed in their bizarre conversation, Ondine hadn’t noticed they’d reached the pub and the horse’s clip clopping came to a stop. A shingle proclaiming The Duke & Ferret hung proudly from the building’s corner. They’d renamed the pub partly in honour of the Duke of Brugel.

  “If I have magic, why couldn’t I save The Duke?” Ondine turned to look at Old Col, the woman who seemed to know everything but never gave Ondine a proper answer to anything.

  “But you did, dear girl. We were witness to what took place at the palace. You and Hamish saved the Duke from his crazy wife Kerala. A woman who is now safely removed from society and her children, by the way.”

  Normally Ondine loved it when Hamish held her hand, but as he helped her out of the carriage, insecurity wriggled into her brain. “Is Duke Pavla getting better?” On one hand, yes, they’d saved him from eating more toxic pastries, but by the time she and Hamish had worked it all out, Pavla had become so sick he didn’t seem capable of recovering.

  “He is . . . stable.” Col had that look about her, as if she knew more than she was letting on. “We may have to get used to having Duchess Anathea at the helm for a while. At least until Lord Vincent comes of age.”

  The mention of Duke Pavla’s son made things burn in Ondine’s chest. Her mind raced back to all the mean things he’d done to her, and her family, over the last two seasons.

  Honestly, today was supposed to be a day of celebration and love. Couldn’t her great-aunt save all this for another time?

  “Oooh, listen to them talk politics,” Cybelle said.

  “It’s no laughing matter,” Col snapped.

  Henrik wrapped the blanket around Cybelle’s shoulders. “Let’s go inside. I’m looking forward to enjoying a meal I haven’t had to cook myself.”

  The moment they were out of earshot Col looked to Ondine, pain evident on her face. “When I said stable, I meant to say he’s not getting any better. Nor is there much chance of it. But I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, not on such a happy day as your sister’s wedding.”

  “Oh,” Ondine said, failing to think of something wise and sympathetic to say.

  “Ye cannae blame yerself Ondi, ye did the best ye could.”

  Col guided them in. “Come on child, let’s enjoy the party.”

  That at least was something to look forward to. Ondine’s parents, in a rare display of splashing out, had hired caterers for the day so that everyone would be able to relax.

  Everyone except Ondine, who couldn’t switch her brain off.

  Old Col declared, “I want the two of you to stay together. For at least an hour.”

  “Aw that’s a terrible hardship.” Hamish gave Ondine a smile and a wink.

  Usually when he did that she felt safe and warm and loved. But now she felt wibbly inside.

  Meanwhile, the rest of her family and Thomas’s were over by the windows having more photographs taken. Actually, Margi and Thomas were having more photographs. Cybelle and Henrik were chatting with Thomas’s sister and their parents, who were sitting at a nearby table helping themselves to cups of tea and finger sandwiches. [206]

  The tables were set out in a
horseshoe shape, with several tables joined together along the top of the room for the bridal party and family. People hovered about the tables, looking for their decorative name cards to find where they should be sitting.

  Col continued with her instructions to Ondine. “Remain close at hand. In fact, hold hands if you’re able.” Then she went off on a bit of a tangent. “Is it dark in here or am I having trouble adjusting to the light?”

  There were candles on the tables, to provide a romantic mood, but they didn’t provide much in the way of light.

  “Now that you mention it, it is a little dark,” Ma said.

  Ignoring their concerns about lighting, Hamish clasped Ondine’s hands in his and pressed them to his chest. His heart beat a steady rhythm under her palms. His easy smile and charm broke through the shroud of worry. Sunshine filled her soul.

  “Beautiful light,” the photographer said as he took more shots of Margi and Thomas.

  Ondine, Hamish and Old Col turned to see a shaft of golden sunlight pierce the windows, creating a stunning, ethereal backlight to the bride and groom.

  It looked magical.

  Col crowed in triumph, “Now do you believe me?”

  Ondine wanted to believe the sunshine was coincidence. But the multiple signs of weirdness were getting hard to ignore.

  “Aye but it’s lovely wee magic.” Hamish kissed Ondine’s forehead, the tip of her nose, and then her lips. Her palms, still pressed to Hamish’s chest, could feel his pulse quickening.

  “More than a little magic,” Col said. “Take a look.”

  They stopped kissing and gazed around the room. “I cannae believe it.” Hamish had trouble closing his jaw.

  Roses and ivy grew all over the walls and ceiling beams. Vases overflowing with blooms appeared near the doorway. A look of wonder spread over Margi’s face as she watched each new arrangement burst forth out of thin air.

  “Thank you Auntie Col!” she said in a high-pitched squeal of bridal euphoria.

  As one, everyone turned to Col, their eyes wide with stunned appreciation.

  “Oh, don’t thank me Margi – thank your little sister.”