Karl took hold of Amber’s oversized T-shirt and pulled her around to face him.
“Take something off now,” he ordered, holding her nose to nose with him.
Amber raised an eyebrow, brought both arms up tight against her chest and swept them up and out, knocking his hands off her. Then she grabbed his shirt, twisted her grip, and pushed him, hard. Energy flooded down her arms to him. Amber paled, but stayed on her feet. Karl staggered back. Recovering fast, he took one step toward Amber before noticing her balanced stance.
Taking the same step back again Karl bowed from the waist. The speed with which she’d reacted startled him, as well as the strength that his muscles suddenly possessed. He drew a deep breath and flexed his arms, delighting in their response. Healthy, fast, and strong for the first time in years.
“So, what disciple, what level?” he asked, relaxing his posture slightly.
Amber lowered her arms and grinned.
“My brother Jimmy – may he take a bath for a thousand years – took karate all the way to black belt. I had to learn a few things just to stay in one piece. I practiced katas with Jimmy and Smoke taught me some judo. You might say I have a brown belt in sibling survival.”
Karl bowed again.
“I’m sorry about grabbing you, Amber. I’m just impatient. The boost you just gave me let me feel normal again for the first time in years. More than normal.” He moved his arms through an old familiar exercise. Thrust, block up, block down, deflect, punch. “I feel like I could fly. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be drowning in fatigue for months … years and not know what the problem is?”
“And I feel like laundry left on the floor for two years,” said Amber sagging. “My personal shields are porous where you’re concerned. You took a little of my strength just now. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t touch me again without warning.” Amber walked along the wall to the coffee area and settled into one of the tall chairs at the counter. She picked up some plastic coffee stirrers and started twisting them into geometric shapes. “I’m sorry, Karl. It must be frustrating for you. I have to say, which is going to annoy you, that in this I do know better. I’m going to work at a slow pace until I know how much you can tolerate. Please be patient.”
Karl snorted and turned away. He would be alert, aware, paranoid. It was the only safe path in this dark world of magic, superstition, and hidden enemies.
“Go on home, Amber. I’ll see you later. I have things to do.”
He did. He had books to unload, accounting to update, timesheets to process. And sometime today he had to find time to review a few books on magic. As far as he was concerned he had two enemies to watch out for: the charming Amber and the wolf bitch who had cast the older spells. For the sake of his own survival he had to learn something about magic – he rubbed at the burning pain growing behind his eyes – if he survived.
Running late, Karl picked up an oily takeout pizza slice to eat on the long drive up to Amber’s home. Parking on the forecourt he paused half way in and out of his car and stared up at the castle. He didn’t want to leave his car parked in the open; who knew what could happen. Since he wasn’t able to pick it up and tuck it in his pocket he settled for disabling the engine before walking around the house to the kitchen door. When Karl turned the corner he spotted Smoke sitting on the top back step teasing three elderly cats with a length of colored cloth.
“She’s all set up and waiting for you,” said Smoke, twitching the toy. “Over my objections, I will say. I told her she shouldn’t be doing any workings for a few days.”
One of the cats misjudged its leap and landed on another’s tail. While the offending and offended cats wrestled, the third leapt upon the prize, gripped it in his teeth and growled, tearing at it with its hind claws.
Karl crouched beside the cats stroking a bright eyed Siamese who watched the proceedings from the safety of the railings. Now that removal of some of the spells was imminent he was reluctant to move.
“I don’t feel up to much of anything, either,” said Karl.
“So call it off,” said Smoke, meeting his eyes for the first time. “She needs the break.”
“And I need a demonstration of good will.”
“Last night wasn’t enough? She could have died.”
Karl rested his hands on his jeans and met Smoke stare for stare.
“It didn’t prove anything. Last night she showed me a problem. Today she’s got to show that she’s willing to try and fix it. Until she tries and frees me, sorry, chum, you’re all under suspicion.”
Smoke snorted and turned away, stalking up the stairs and slamming his way into the house.
He couldn’t just trust her good will. As long as she was trapped along with him she had a motivation to help him. But he’d have to keep watch. If he saw any sign that she was freeing herself and leaving him behind then … he’d no idea what he’d do. Nor could he think of a way to guarantee that when she was done – if she were honest and did what she promised – that after all of the old spells were gone, she’d put nothing new on him. Karl stroked one of the cat’s ears.
There had to be a way to be sure.
To be safe.
To be free.
Chapter Eight
Karl wandered past the last of the hedges and crossed to where Amber was kneeling in the center of the circle. She was arranging a few pieces of God only knew what on the altar beside her. Karl froze, pointing.
“What the heck is that?”
Amber examined the piece of plastic and metal in her hand and said calmly, “A potato peeler.”
“Potato peeler. Potato peeler? What the hell is that for?”
“It’s for you. For removing all those spells on you. I had to get something to give you an idea of what I’m doing. Now sit down.”
Karl scowled. Sitting cross legged for even a short period of time made his knees ache. Amber just sat and waited until he complied. Then he noticed that she had a pillow while he was on the ground.
“You’re supposed to be removing the spells. Why would you need a potato peeler? Making soup? Just get out your caldron and stir, witch.”
Amber settled onto her cushion facing him, back stiff, face expressionless.
“What crawled up your ass and bit you since I last saw you?”
Karl shrugged and turned away.
“Having a crisis or something?” Amber asked, leaning closer. “Elementals, your aura looks worse than usual. Do you have a headache?”
“You can tell?” said Karl, leaning away. “Do I have no secrets at all?”
Amber moved her hand gracefully through the air around his face.
“Your aura, what I can see of it, is throbbing purple with sharp red flashes.”
“Yeah,” he pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. “That’s what it feels like.”
“Did you have a tough day?”
“Physically, it sucked. I kept …” Karl stopped. There was no reason to tell her about the blackouts. He didn’t want to be more vulnerable to her than he already was. Besides, there was no reason to tell her he’d tried to read a couple of the new age books in his store, but the print was blurry, faded, and the roaring headache was from trying to read them.
“We did okay,” he said finally. “Pretty good, actually. I haven’t had such a good day since I took over the store.”
“Really?”
Karl grimaced at the mixture of pride and delight in her voice. Great, now he’d have to admit the magic did some good.
“Yeah. Thanks. People stayed awake today long enough to browse and buy books. I may have to order more stock. Even the internet sales were better.”
“Good. Once I start working I’ll try to do something to calm your headache down.”
“I can take a pill for the headache, Amber. Save your strength for the important stuff. Which brings me back to the potato peeler. What the hell is that supposed to do?”
“You have to understand what I’m doing so you ca
n get your mind behind what’s going on,” Amber grinned and handed the small tool over.
Karl held it between the tips of two fingers and scowled at her.
“I understand that I have magic on me and I want it gone. Why are you wasting time with kitchen equipment?”
She took it back, tapped the plastic on the palm of her hands for a few minutes, eyes closed, then finally she looked directly into his eyes.
“Because a good witch, one with understanding of the essential nature of magic can make use of anything that comes to hand, rather than messing about with strange and esoteric nonsense. If I came at you with powdered Mandrake root and a thurible you’d be confused.”
“I am confused. What’s a thurible?”
“Ever seen the Pope on TV? All those guys with metal handbags that look they’re on fire? That’s a thurible.”
“Okay. What do kitchen tools have to do with magic?” he demanded.
“What does electricity look like?” Amber replied.
Karl swallowed a groan. Never mind headaches, spending time with Amber made his head ache, his neck ache, his back ache. Even his toes hurt, although that might be due to the fact he’d kicked the chair at work that afternoon. Whatever the pain, the cause was the disruption magic caused in his life. Amber may not have placed the original spells, but she was the closest target for his increasing irritation.
“Electricity. It doesn’t look like anything. It’s too small to be seen.” He drew his fingers through the air, pinching an invisible wire. “Little bits of energy traveling through wire. Positive and negative ions. Bright sparks when you touch metal after walking across a carpet. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“You have. You’ve just proven that you have no idea how electricity works. That’s not a problem since just like most people you don’t remember your high school physics well enough to have a good understanding of something as common as electricity. How can you expect me to explain magic in a way you understand? This potato peeler is clear, easily understood, and familiar. Yes?”
Karl dropped his chin onto his fist, elbow resting on his knee, and continued to glare at her. Amber shrugged as if his anger did not touch her. Her superior attitude was getting on his last nerve and it was tap dancing. Soon. Very soon she would learn Karl Benn was in charge of Karl Benn.
“All right. Yes. Familiar.”
“Good. Magic looks different with every different spell. To me,” Amber continued, “the spells on you look like the layers on an onion. Have you ever cut an onion in half and looked at it?”
“Of course,” Karl nodded slowly, eyes still locked on hers.
“There are thick layers and thin layers, all tight together.” Amber clenched her hands around an imaginary onion and held it out to Karl. “And if you work really carefully you could peel them apart, one at a time. But some of the layers are sticky, very thin, and cling to the one underneath them. The spells on you are old and have been layered, one on top of the other. Pressed in on one another. I have to remove each of them completely, before starting on the one underneath. That is, if I want to do it without hurting you. I can’t remove half of a spell and leave the other half behind without causing who knows what sort of complication. I can’t cut straight through because no one knows how the energies will interact. I need some sort of visual, something to hold in my mind while I do the spell. I chose to use the idea of a potato peeler. It’s a tool I can use to lift up and completely remove layers of spell after spell. Do you get it?”
Karl blinked, reached out, and patted her on her head. Then he grasped her hand and shook it. The light touch of her hand shocked him. He could feel a rush, a lightening of his weariness. Amber paled and pulled her hand away quickly. Before she could complain he laughed.
“Congratulations. You have finally said something that I understand,” He flicked a finger against the plastic she still held. “All hail the magic potato peeler.”
“Okay, but remember to warn me when you plan to touch me. I lost energy just then and I haven’t any to spare.” She fiddled with the pile of stuff beside her for a moment before continuing. “I need you to get ready for this working. I want you to start separating yourself from the inside of the onion. Make yourself a mental suit of armor. It will be more important when I get down to the last few layers. I don’t want to hurt you any more than I …”
“You don’t want to strip psychic skin off me,” Karl interrupted. “Well, thanks. I don’t want you to, either. I can handle the idea of a suit of armor; you work on the onion skins.”
“Okay,” Amber drew a deep breath and straightened her back. “I’m ready to start. I need you to lie back and relax as much as possible.”
Amber watched Karl draw back, suspicion flaring in his dim aura. Swallowing her sigh, she kept her expression open and mild. Every now and then she thought she saw understanding, acceptance in him. Then suspicion would return. It was almost as if the spells were drawing him back into a dark world of negativity and rejection.
“Lie back, relax, and do everything the nice police officer tells you … is that the idea?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
Amber folded her hands under her chin, tilted her head, and fluttered her eyelashes at him.
“Trust me.”
Karl grunted and lay back on the grass, a cushion stolen from a library chair under his head.
“I feel sooo safe,” he said, as he closed his eyes. “Psychic surgery is about to be performed by a witty witch using a potato peeler. News at eleven.”
His heart thundered in his ears. He twitched as mind and body fought. He wanted, needed to get up and run from this circle. Away. As far as he could get from magic. His hands and fingers twitched, digging into the soil, holding him down and still. So much for relaxed.
He heard a distant rumble, almost thunder, but it went on for longer than he expected. Opening one eye he glanced at Amber. She was seated at his feet, cross-legged, hands raised over her head. The loose fabric of her linen shift was pulled tight against the breasts he remembered so well. The sound emerging from her throat was deeper than he expected. A grumbling bass note that went on and on. She took a deep breath and resumed the note. Closing his eyes again Karl could feel a new trembling in his body. Not the terror that gripped him when he thought of those snakes wrapped around his soul, but a heart calming vibration that he drew in with the air he breathed and that sank into his muscles, soothing them. Air emptied out of his lungs, long and slow, and he descended into sleep.
* * * * *
The sky above him was a vivid burning orange. The rock was digging uncomfortably into his spine.
“Took you long enough to get here,” said Amber.
Karl glared at her.
“What the h … heck are we doing back here?”
Amber looked around the empty dreamscape
“It is familiar to both of us. I thought we could work here.”
“It may have escaped your attention,” snarled Karl, “but I don’t like it here. This is the place where I’ve been attacked on a nightly basis for years, so this is not a place I feel safe for the sort of surgery you’re thinking of doing. What if the wolves turn up?”
Amber glanced over her shoulder to the distant mountains and blushed.
“Oh, I am so sorry. I should have thought about that, but it was a place we both knew. The wolves aren’t due until tomorrow morning; that’s hours away. But if you don’t feel safe this isn’t going to work. What would it take to make you feel safe? Just visualize it and I’ll try to follow you in.”
Visualize it. Karl closed his eyes. The air had already dried his mouth and throat. What had Amber been thinking? This was no place for them to be. He needed a comfortable place, someplace he knew … good times, someplace he could feel confident and relax. A drink wouldn’t hurt, either. Hearing Amber gasp he opened his eyes.
“An Irish pub,” said Amber, her lip curling. “I suppose I should be grateful that it isn’t a sports bar or a strip clu
b.”
“You’d fit right in,” said Karl, smiling brightly.
“Well, damn,” cried Amber, blushing far down her chest.
The wolf dreamscape dress code was nude. That apparently had not disturbed her. But judging from the way she folded her arms across her bare chest and scowled, she did not feel quite as comfortable naked in a pub, even though the pub was empty except for him and her. She closed her eyes, concentrated, and faded from sight. Moments later she was back, this time wearing a white surgeon’s jacket over blue jeans and a T-shirt.
“Ready to start?”
Karl chuckled and closed his eyes.
“Whenever you are, doctor.”
He opened his eyes almost immediately and checked out what he was wearing. The pub was familiar. He’d hung out with Mike and other friends here after class during the first year of college. The wall prints and neon lights were exactly as he remembered. Now as he had back then, he was wearing loose chinos and a polo shirt. Satisfied that he was not at a disadvantage, he relaxed.
“Remember, you have to separate yourself from the layers of spells around you.”
Karl grunted and tried to concentrate. It was hard. Harder than he expected. He wanted to imagine himself encased in a magic proof suit of armor with the spells on the outside. But his mind kept drifting back to the image in the mirror. Black snakes diving into and through his body, binding him, invading him. Snakes that were slowly destroying him. What imaginary suit of armor could protect him from that? Eventually he settled on an image that satisfied him.
“Your suit of amour looks like a cross between a condom and a football uniform,” said Amber after a few moments of silence.
“You imagine your way, oh witch of the potato peeler,” replied Karl with a bite in his voice, “and I will imagine mine.”
Amber waited until Karl was resting then extended a spell through the mass of black twisted threads and into his aura. Under the gentle pressure of her will, Karl drifted deeper into a trance. She pushed again, and his aura contracted, becoming brighter. The threads still bound him, tried to coil tighter, but she slipped another spell under to hold them away.
First Destroy All Giant Monsters (The World Wide Witches Research Association) Page 20