The Ondine Collection

by Ebony McKenna

  “Ondi!” Ma’s voice carried up the stairs. “Down here please, and bring candles.”

  Candles wouldn’t make any difference in the middle of the day. Ondine rolled her eyes, knowing her mother was using the power outage as an excuse to call her back to work.

  Old Col made a tisking noise, then said, “Just heading downstairs for a cup of tea. Can I get you anything?”

  “No thanks.” Less talking, more kissing. So much kissing.

  “I’ll ask your mother to fill me in on everything that’s been going on, you carry on dear.”

  A little more kissing, a few more sighs. Eventually, Hamish pulled away and said, “Come awn lass, there’s always work to do.”

  “Just a few more minutes. The lights will be back in a sec anyway.”

  Hamish’s chuckle rippled through her as they savoured their last cuddle.

  Before they had to return downstairs.

  Before they had to be respectable again.

  “I’M SURPRISED THE POWER’S not back on yet,” Ondine said as they took the stairs.

  “There you are,” Ma said. “Hamish? Put more logs on the fire. Ondi? The dishes are stacking up. Your father’s off finding batteries for the radio so I’ve put Thomas in the bar.”

  To hear her mother’s frantic tones you’d think it was a national emergency, instead of a regular Brugel blackout, which they’d worked through plenty of times before. “We’re fine, Ma. If the power doesn’t come back on we’ll put the food outside in the snow. That’s just as good as a refrigerator.”

  “It’s all across Venzelemma.” Da walked into the kitchen holding a small blue toy monster with a radio in its tummy. It had been one of Margi’s favourite playthings and later handed down to Ondine. She remembered how she used to fall asleep listening to it, then waking in the night to a soft hiss of failed reception as the batteries died.

  Ma raced over to him. “Any word on how long it will last?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “How are they able to broadcast if there’s no power?” Ondine asked.

  “Diesel generators love,” Da said, turning the volume up. It made strange squeaks and crackles as he tried to fine-tune to the station’s call-sign using the monster’s red nose.

  ... expected to last several hours, possibly into the next day. Authorities are asking people to check on their neighbours and make sure they’re all right. Temperatures are set to drop to minus twenty tonight. Hospitals and essential services are still open but residents are urged to cut back on electricity usage where possible.

  ​​

  “How can we cut back on electricity, we don’t have any?” Cybelle asked.

  Sick guilt swirled in Ondine’s tummy as she felt responsible for making this happen. She’d been canoodling with Hamish so much their magic must have spread out to the street. Somebody nearby must have wished for a total blackout across the city.

  “It’s a better reception over here.” Da walked a few steps closer to the door, “Right. They’re saying there was a fire at the power plant and output is down to twenty per cent. This could go on for days. Shops are closing,” he relayed.

  “Shouldnae told us how long it would go fer. They’ll be looting next,” Hamish said. “No security. Tha police will have their hands full.”

  Ondine’s eyes peeled wide at the thought. “It’s chaos.”

  Old Col walked in with her empty teacup and saucer. She must have been having a quiet cuppa in the family room. The teacup was upended, from reading the leaves. “I was planning on heading home later, but I think I’ll sit by the fire instead if it’s all the same.”

  “Of course. Can’t have you out in this weather,” Ma said.

  Not that Old Col left the kitchen. Instead she rummaged around for something to eat.

  Hamish hugged Ondine. “We’ll be fine. Plenty of food and wood fer the fire.”

  “Speaking of which,” Ma interrupted and pointed her thumb to the dining room, “We have customers and there’s a job for you out there.”

  “Aye ma’am.”

  Niggly, naggly worries kept Ondine standing still. They’d had plenty of power shortages before. Three or four every winter from cold snaps and ice storms. But they only ever lasted an hour or two. Never for days. This had to be deliberate. Coming so soon on top of everything else that had happened. It was too much to be a coincidence.

  “It has to be Vincent!” Ondine blurted out to nobody in particular. “I bet any money he and Mrs. Howser are doing this.” Mentally she prepared a whole heap of arguments to push her case.

  “I think you’re right,” Ma said with no equivocation.

  “Me too,” Da said.

  “Aye,” Hamish said.

  As one, her sisters and Henrik nodded their heads and agreed. Considering Ondine had spent the better part of her childhood not being believed or taken seriously, it was a huge moment.

  Everyone stood, boggling at each other, until Hamish said, “So then, what are we gointae do about it?”

  “Anybody want this last biscuit?” Old Col asked as she held the tin in her hands.

  “Call the police,” Ma said.

  “What?” Old Col looked aghast.

  The muscles in Ondine’s head prepared to roll her eyes, but Da beat her to it! Her own Da rolling his eyes!

  “I mean about the blackouts,” Ma said, “not the biscuits. Eat as many as you like auntie.”

  Old Col shrugged. “Do we have any more, this tin’s empty?”

  “Colette love, normally I’d say ‘That’s a good idea’ to call the police, but how do you think they’re going to solve this when they can’t even follow through on a basic break and enter?”

  “Oh.” Ma’s face fell. “Do you think maybe Mrs. Howser has put a spell on the police as well?”

  “Aye, filled their heads with treacle,” Hamish said.

  “I just had a horrible thought,” Ondine said, “People are going to say the power shortages are the Duchess’s fault. They already blame her for the trains not running on time.”

  Cybelle chimed in, “Maybe we should let the Duchess sort out her own problems. We have enough of our own.”

  Ma gave her middle daughter a hug. “Cybelle, under any other circumstances I’d agree with you. As much as I’d love nothing more to do with that family, we are in lock-step with them.”

  Cybelle didn’t sound convinced. “I think you’re needlessly getting yourselves involved in things that aren’t our concern. If we hadn’t gotten involved in the first place, none of this would have happened.”

  “Belle.” Ondine rolled her eyes faster than her father could. “You forget that they came here in the first place. They started it. We were just minding our own business when Vincent came snooping around looking for that stash of jewels.”

  “And why was the jewellery hidden here in the first place?”

  “They were using it as their private bank,” Ondine explained. “That way they never had to declare anything or put it on record. And where better to hide something than in a public pub where there are always lots of people around, coming and going at all hours.”

  “I never knew anything about it,” Ma said. “And I’m certain my parents never did either.”

  The pub had been in Ma’s family for decades. Her parents had run it until they’d finally succumbed to the lure of the caravan and joined the greying throngs clogging up the roads around the Black Sea. [253] They’d spent many good years of retirement doing this until they had to respond to the call of the nursing home. [254]

  Things stayed quiet for a while, until Ma spoke up, “If we are to have any hope of dealing with this, we’re going to have to fight magic with magic. Aren’t we Ondi? Now, stop slacking about everyone, we have hungry customers to feed.”

  Yes, of course, get back to work everyone, that was Ma’s default position. That’s when Ondine gave herself a mental slap. They were missing a vital ingredient in their ‘fight back against Mrs. Howser’ plan. “Hang on everyo
ne! We’re going to need Melody.”

  ​For a moment everyone stopped and gave their best ‘I’m so confused’ face, before Old Col declared. “Ondine is absolutely right.”

  It’s always a nice feeling to earn a compliment, especially when it really mattered. With all eyes on her, Ondine pressed home her advantage. “You said only the witch who put the spell can remove it; they need to be her words, yeah? Well, there’s no way Mrs. Howser will fix the spell she put on Hamish, not when it’s all working so well for her. But Melody, she can do it for us. She’s a whizz at astral projection; she can go into people’s memories when they’re asleep, without them even knowing and –”

  “– Get her to reverse the spell in her dreams, and she won’t even know she’s done it!” Old Col grabbed Ondine in a hug. “My girl, you’re brilliant!”

  All of a sudden, things were turning in Ondine’s favour.

  Why did that thought scare her all the way down to her boots?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ondine was having an awesome dream where she met Melody in Savo Plaza and talked her around to joining their side. The dream felt so real, especially as Ondine and Melody were in their pyjamas and it was snowing something massive in the plaza. Also, Melody pleading with Ondine to, “Save me from this barking mad woman” had an air of authenticity to it.

  When Ondine woke up with cold, wet hair, she knew it had been no ordinary dream and that she had in fact been outside in the snow. Melody has gone the full-astral and projected Ondine into her dreams. Or vice versa. Whichever the case, Ondine felt certain her friend needed their help.

  Today, they’d get Melody back.

  It was one thing to declare a plan of action and feel positive and upbeat about it. It was another matter entirely to put that plan into action. Especially when it involved meeting people outdoors, in the depths of winter. Ondine, Hamish and Old Col headed out, mid-afternoon (there was no way Ma would let them leave before the lunch service was over). Being winter, it was already growing dark and it wasn’t yet four in the afternoon. They hoped to find Melody at Savo Plaza, if Ondine had correctly interpreted her dream last night.

  One of Ondine’s gloved hands held Hamish’s, the other gripped a vacuum flask filled with Chef’s best soup. It was their first plan of persuasion – lure the girl away with food.

  “Don’t take it personally if she says ‘no’,” Old Col said. “Or if she’s not even there.”

  “Ye of little faith,” Hamish said.

  “Faith is something I have by the bucket load,” Col said, “the fact is, we don’t know what kind of hold Birgit has over that poor girl. We have to tread very carefully.”

  With each step, Ondine’s confidence shrank. “What if she’s not there? What if I only dreamed I’d talked to her last night?”

  “I’m confident if she can be there, she will be,” Col said. “Trouble is, I’m sure Birgit Howser won’t be far behind.”

  Arctic winds chomped at Ondine’s neck as she, Hamish and Old Col shuffle-walked through snow-laden footpaths towards Savo Plaza. The low sun cast long shadows, but the streetlights were not on. It was hard to know if this was part of the blackout, or if it simply felt really dark because it was so darn cold.

  “What’s that?” Hamish grabbed Ondine and pulled him close.

  Ondine heard something as well. Peering around the corner, they saw people furtively sticking to the shadows. Their arms were full.

  Full of what?

  It was hard to see clearly, what with so much snow falling, road workers had shunted the snow towards the kerb, creating snow walls that now reached shoulder height. It turned pedestrians into mice, negotiating a snowy maze. [255] It also provided looters with something to hide behind.

  Several people wearing scarves across their faces huddled near the windows of a technology store. Some unseen command had them placing their hands on the window. Were they going to push it in? The glass wobbled and . . . melted onto the path at their feet. Glowing red, then cooling and cracking in the cold air. The looters climbed in over the windowsill and took whatever they wanted. Arms and shoulder bags bulging with stuff, they walked out the store, calm as you like.

  “Mercury’s wings, did you see that?” Ondine asked.

  “Aye, some folks have no respect for law,” Hamish said.

  “I mean the way they got in. The window just melted off.”

  “Now you see why I had to split you up for a while. Too many people making bad wishes come true,” Old Col said.

  Speaking of bad wishes, they heard a whining engine and felt the ground rumble.

  “Uh-oh!” leapt out of Ondine as a tank came rolling around the corner. Not a current model Brugelian Army tank either. Something tricked-out and crazy from a graphic novel.

  An eruption ripped the sky apart as the tank fired a missile that sailed over their heads and broke the doors of a bank.

  From the sidelines, people rushed into the now-broken bank to loot the contents.

  “Some folks’ wishes are way out of hand!” Hamish grabbed hers and they ran towards Savo Plaza.

  They were three blocks from the fairground when a deep rumbling sound greeted them.

  “Not again!” Ondine feared another tank would make an appearance.

  “Relax, dear, they’re power generators.” Old Col said. “Back in my day, every block of flats had them.”

  The acrid aroma of burning diesel assaulted them as they walked closer. Luckily, this was soon overpowered by the delicious smells of melted cheese from a food van. It was using its own generator to keep the kitchens firing and the hot food coming.

  Ondine shrugged and said, “If things go badly, we can console ourselves with deep fried cheeseballs.”

  The cheeseballs were a highlight of Martisor, a festival that kicked off in late January. The locals called it ‘Fat week’. It lasted for ten days and people ate so much they could explode. [256]

  Turning the corner, Savo Plaza opened out before them, but instead of glittery prettiness, they found a few stallholders trying to make a go of it and the rest of the plaza in darkness. The generators were loud and obnoxious, casting a pall over the area as they tried to keep the festival limping along. If felt damp, empty and unsafe.

  No sign of Melody yet; on the plus side, no sign of Mrs. Howser either.

  At least there were still some food booths operating, selling hot food dripping with cheese. [257]

  ​Oh bliss, there was a candy silk van selling bags for a schlip each. [258] Ondine was in heaven.

  A few of the same rides were here from the last time they’d visited, defying the cold weather and black-outs affecting the rest of Venzelemma.

  “The key is to have a good time and act normally,” Old Col said as they walked through the fairground.

  Ondine nearly laughed at the suggestion. Could she remember what normal was?

  “Sit yourselves down; I’ll get us some cheesy chips,” Old Col said.

  A pang of guilt shot through Ondine at how wonderful her great aunt could be at times. Not long ago, Ondine had entertained the idea of defecting to Team Howser. They’d only been thoughts though; it wasn’t like she’d acted on them or anything.

  Hamish sat shoulder to hip with her on the bench seat to share body warmth. The moment Col returned with the steaming chips, they dived in. After two bites, Ondine could feel her arteries complaining and her stomach rejoicing. Warmth won out over good health and she had another handful, the melted cheese forming string bridges between the bowl and her mouth.

  “Ondi!” Two wiry arms latched around her and hugged hard.

  Ondine yelped in shock.

  “Got ya!” Melody said, taking a seat beside her.

  “Melody!” Ondine threw her arms around her friend, careful not to rub her cheese-oiled hands on Melody’s thick woolly coat.

  ​Considering how furry and dense the fabric was, it was a wonder Ondine could feel Melody through it at all. Part way through the hug, fear settled in. If Mel
ody were here, could Mrs. Howser be far behind?

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” Ondine said. “Here, I brought you some soup.” She unscrewed the wide lid of the vacuum flask, which doubled as a mug, and poured out the soup. Steam rose in great clouds. “Careful, it’s hot!”

  Of course Melody ignored her. She was starving and freezing, and the soup was her salvation. Half her face was obscured by her enormous brown fur hat with the requisite ear flaps for this time of year.

  “You’ll burn your tongue!” Ondine watched her friend gulp it down.

  “It’s divine!” Melody held the mug out for a refill.

  OK then, Ondine refilled it and took her chance. “Loads more where that came from, it’s one of Chef’s specials. Why don’t we go back to the pub and warm up?”

  Melody shook her head, downed the soup and held the cup out for thirds.

  “You poor thing, you’re so hungry.” They’d been counting on her state of famished-ness to persuade her over to their side. “Come and have dinner with us, you can have as much as you want.” Ondine attempted to place the emotional wedge. “I’m surprised Mrs. Howser didn’t bring you along when she came over to our pub the other day.”

  “Mmmmm. Wait. What?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve really stepped in it,” Ondine said, watching for Melody’s reaction. “Weren’t you invited?”

  “She visited you, and she didn’t take me?”

  “Er, yes,” Ondine said, acting crestfallen on the surface, while privately rejoicing at how well this was going. “Chef’s food is always fabulous. She ate a bit of everything, especially the soup with canapé floaters.”

  “When was this?”

  Doing her best to look like she’d put her foot in her mouth, Ondine named the date. “It was after CovenCon. Maybe you had some magic to catch up with?”

  Looking deflated, Melody pushed the empty mug back to Ondine. “It’s no use. I can’t come with you.”