Work Like a Charm

by Cate Martin

  "I came up with a spell to sort of patch it," Brianna said.

  "But it's like trying to patch a pizza dough by pressing down another blob of dough. It's not exactly going to work."

  All of this pizza talk was making me hungry. I picked up one of the sandwiches and stuffed it in my mouth.

  "You don't think anything came through?" I said, mouth still half-full.

  "We watched very carefully," Brianna said. "And I crafted some detection devices. They're in the backyard now; they shriek if another tear is starting to form so we can go out and patch it when it's still just a really thin stretch and not an actual hole."

  "But even with the devices, we've been watching it closely," Sophie said.

  "In shifts," Brianna said. "One of us has always been awake, all week, day and night."

  "And when there's a tear, we both have to be awake to fix it," Sophie added.

  "I'm so sorry," I said. "That sounds exhausting." I carefully didn't mention the way the two of them were looking at the moment. No reason to rub it in. "But I don't understand what this has to do with me. Couldn't it just be a coincidence that it started right after I left? I mean, maybe it was damage from that fight. Maybe it's been slowly building since Miss Zenobia passed."

  "We're pretty sure it has something to do with you," Sophie said. "Miss Zenobia said all three of us had a calling, and that guarding this portal would take all three of us together. That includes you."

  "Nonmagical me," I said glumly.

  "You are magical," Brianna said. "We just haven't figured out how to bring it out of you yet."

  "I just really think what happened in that last fight was a one-time thing," I said. "Something was working through me. That wasn't coming from me."

  "Maybe," Sophie said. I knew she could sense patterns in magic, its ebbs and flows. That fight had been too intense for her to really see what was happening magic-wise, but she must have gotten hints.

  "You have a connection to the portal, I'm sure of it," Brianna said. "You did travel from 1927 back to here without a wand or anything."

  "What are you talking about?" I asked.

  "You followed Helen back, remember?" Brianna said. "You got back here all on your own."

  "No, you brought me back," I said with a frown.

  "No, I didn't," Brianna insisted. "I was working in the library when I heard the crash of you falling in the kitchen, and Sophie and I came downstairs together and found you there with Helen."

  "But you brought me back," I said again.

  "No," Brianna said firmly. "I was going to, at sunset, but it wasn't time yet."

  "I sent a message," I said. "I knew I had to get back early, so I sent a telegram to that other witch, asking her to contact Mr. Trevor and let him know I needed to get back straight away. So you pulled me over, didn't you?"

  "I would've had to be in the yard to do that," Brianna said. "You would've seen me."

  "Then how did I get home?"

  "I thought that you did it," Brianna said.

  "But I don't know how," I said.

  "You were anxious to get back," Sophie said. "You knew we were in danger. Your urgency level must have been off the charts."

  "That's a circumstance that triggers latent magic," Brianna said.

  "But I didn't do anything," I said. "I didn't even make a wish. I was just waiting."

  "And then you were here," Brianna said.

  "I did see something," I said, half-closing my eyes as I summoned up the memory. "I could see, I guess the portal itself? I hadn't seen it before."

  "I really think you have a connection with it," Sophie said. "It certainly has a connection with you."

  I looked down at the remains of my tea, playing over the memory and trying to remember any other little detail. But there was nothing. At the time, I had been too worried about getting home to be paying attention, I guess.

  The hinges of the back door shrieked as the door swung open and Mr. Trevor shuffled inside.

  "Boxes," I said, leaping to my feet to go help him. Sophie and Brianna came behind me. Mr. Trevor had already made some trips up from the garage to judge from the stacks of boxes on the back porch.

  "We can stick these in the dining room with my things for now," Brianna said, bending to pick up one of the boxes.

  "Your things are here?" I asked.

  "I had my roommate crate up all my stuff and ship it here. It took a week, but it turned up this morning." Despite her exhaustion, the thought of having her books back with her lit up her eyes.

  "That's all of it," Mr. Trevor said, setting the stack he had staggered in within the hall outside the kitchen. "Ah, tea. Lovely."

  "We should check the time portal," Sophie said when each of us had stacked our boxes in the dining room. The few battered cardboard boxes that contained my possessions were completely dwarfed by the stacks of neatly arranged crates that held Brianna's things.

  "Yes, let's," Brianna agreed.

  "Me too?" I asked.

  "Of course you too," Brianna said as Sophie took my hand. "We want to see how the portal responds to you being back. And who knows? Maybe you'll see it again too like you did before."

  I didn't say anything. I was pretty sure that like being filled with ineffable power, that had been a one-time thing.

  The garden had gained some yard art since I had left: a brass sundial, an ornate collection of windchimes that hung from what looked like an umbrella clothes drying rack, something on a pedestal that looked more like Galadriel's gazing pool than a bird bath.

  Then I realized those must be Brianna's magic portal leakage detectors. They were pretty cool.

  "Anything?" Brianna asked me. I shrugged. I sensed nothing more than I ever had. She blinked away a brief expression of disappointment then pulled out her wand as she ran down the steps to join Sophie, who was already beginning her spinning, arm-sweeping dance among the plants.

  I watched the two of them for a while. Then I tried half closing my eyes, trying to settle into a more meditative state. Then I tried just staring really hard until I saw spots dancing across the sky. But that was nothing more than the usual side effect of staring into the bright sky for too long.

  Then Sophie ended her dance, holding the last pose for a long moment before letting all of the tension drain from her body as she turned and walked back to the porch where I sat on the steps.

  "Anything?" she asked me.

  I shook my head. "What did you sense?" I asked.

  "It's back to how it was before you left," she said. "We're going to want to keep an eye on it for the next few days to be sure, but it's definitely better with you here."

  "I wish I could watch it for you and let you both get some rest," I said.

  "No worries," Sophie said. "We'll have you working beside us soon enough."

  "Sophie and I have your training regime all planned out," Brianna said, and her eyes lit up again. "We wanted to get started straight away. Dawn tomorrow."

  "So you're the one who should rest up," Sophie said. "We're going to be very demanding teachers."

  "I'll be the best student," I promised, although to be honest, I had only been an average student back in my school days. Still, I had no need to learn any of that stuff. This was very different.

  I went upstairs to finally get that shower and nap. It was only as I stood under the deliciously hot water that I remembered about Mrs. Olson. I had meant to ask Sophie and Brianna if they had seen her lately, but after everything they had told me I wouldn't be surprised if they had been too preoccupied to notice if and when Mrs. Olson had been out in her yard.

  I told myself it was nothing. A woman her age couldn't just stand around the yard all day.

  But that feeling in my gut just wouldn't go away. Something was making me feel uneasy. Was I sensing the weakening of the time portal, only now beginning to recover from my absence? Maybe I was sensing magical things and just didn't know how to assign meanings to these vague feelings.

  Perhaps things
would be clearer in the morning when my training started.

  Chapter 3

  In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

  The coldness of the wet ground under my yoga mat was starting to seep through. I could feel the backs of my thighs losing warmth like it was being drained off by a vampire. Maybe I should have moved around more before I came outside with Sophie, gotten more of the kinks out before sitting down. But then it still wasn't even dawn yet. I was an early riser, but there were limits.

  I sighed. I was thinking thoughts. I wasn't supposed to be thinking thoughts. I focused on my breath again.

  In and out. In and out.

  I could just hear the stirrings of Sophie's own breath as she sat in front of me, close enough to touch if I reached out a hand. Her breathing was slower even than a sleeping person's, and she wasn't fidgeting at all. Was her mat thicker? My legs were going numb from the cold and from being folded up too long. I twitched a toe, making sure I could still feel it. It certainly felt cold enough for frostbite, October or not.

  I was thinking thoughts again. Ugh. I was never going to master this not thinking thing.

  Slow breath in through my nose. Hold it for a moment, then slow exhale through my mouth. This time I managed to just breathe for what felt like several minutes.

  Did I sense anything around me? I felt a little dizzy, but that was it. Then I was all too aware of the cold again and longed to clap my hands together and stomp my feet.

  "And done," Sophie said in her softest voice. I opened my eyes. She smiled over at me. "How was it?"

  "I don't think I was doing it," I admitted. "I'm cold."

  "Oh," Sophie said, and I swear I could see the instant she became aware that it was cold. How had she tuned it out? "We can do this inside next time. But I wanted you close to the time portal the first time to see if you sensed anything about it?"

  I shook my head. "Did you?"

  "Yes," Sophie said, looking up to the tops of the trees in the orchard. "Whether you know it or not, it's doing much better with you here."

  "That's something, I guess," I said, stretching out my cramped legs.

  "Let's try a moving meditation," Sophie said, rising up to her feet with the grace only a lifelong student of the ballet could make look so effortless. She lifted her arms and started to dance in slow circles.

  "What do I do?" I asked.

  "Whatever feels natural," Sophie said, her eyes closed as she spun around me. "Just… lose yourself in the movement. Feel how your muscles move, but don't try to control it. Just let go."

  I could already tell this wasn't going to go well. I half-closed my eyes and decided against spinning, as my head still felt a little swimmy from the breathing before.

  I opted for a sort of skating motion, long, slow strides from side to side with arm swings to match. I had never taken to figure skating, but years of hockey made the motion second nature to me.

  I think I almost did get lost in the motion, for a split second anyway.

  Then I tripped over the edge of a raised garden bed.

  I stumbled, eyes flying open, and recovered my balance without falling to the ground. But I only made a few steps further before my foot slid over the dew-wet lawn. I opted to fall backwards onto my butt to avoid slipping into an involuntary splits. Flexibility had never been my strong point.

  Sophie continued spinning around the orchard, oblivious to my difficulties. I tried to get back into motion, but now I was super paranoid about hurting myself and got nowhere near the mindless state I was supposed to be reaching for.

  Finally, Sophie came to a stop, stretching her upper body down towards the ground then straightening up slowly, one vertebra at a time.

  She was smiling at me again. "How was that?" she asked.

  "Yeah, not good," I said, brushing grass and dirt from the seat of my pants.

  "Well, don't be too down," Sophie said. "It's just the first day."

  I nodded, but I saw the disappointment in her eyes. She had hoped for something a bit more hopeful from me.

  I went into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee then added a spoonful of butter, stirring until it melted and gave the surface of the coffee a slick sheen. I took a little sip, then a bigger gulp, before heading out into the hallway.

  I had come down the back stairs after Sophie had woken me, so I hadn't noticed that the dining room looked like a small tornado had blown through it. Every crate was at least half open, some of the contents pulled out and stacked on the massive table in haphazard piles.

  I was pretty sure the small tornado had been named Brianna. I shivered to think what she had in store for me, but at least I would have some coffee in me first. I took another long swallow then headed up the stairs to the library.

  The library was dead quiet, the kind of quiet you only get when row after row of tomes was absorbing every decibel of random noise. Even the sounds of morning traffic that had been perfectly clear as I climbed the stairs faded completely the moment I had books on all sides of me.

  Brianna was at the largest table in the center of the room, one finger marking a place in a book the size of an atlas as she wrote something down with her other hand. The scritch of her pen across the page was a comforting sound.

  I waited for her to finish the sentence and look up at me, but her writing went on and on, her eyes moving from the finger on the book to her own scribbling and then back again. It was only when she turned the page and started writing again on the top of the new page that I realized she was completely unaware of my presence.

  For some reason, I thought of the conventional wisdom not to wake a sleepwalker. It felt like it also applied here.

  I cleared my throat. Then I stepped closer, bending low so that my face was in her field of view. But still, she didn't notice me.

  "Brianna?" I said as softly as I could.

  Brianna kept on writing. If anything the expression on her face grew a bit tighter, like she was actively tuning me out. Not intentionally, just as if a part of her was aware there was a potential distraction and redoubled her focus without exploring what the distraction might be.

  "Brianna," I said again, more loudly. She blinked and looked over at my coffee mug sitting beside her cooling cup of tea.

  "Oh, Amanda," she said. "Good, you're here. How did it go with Sophie?"

  I started to try to mumble a replay, but to my relief, she didn't wait for an answer, just brushed past me, catching at my elbow to direct me to follow her. I picked up my coffee and carried it past three more rows of bookshelves to a smaller table at the back of the library. I remembered it well; I had hidden beneath it the day the two of them had tried to trigger my latent magic by attacking me. Was that why she had chosen it?

  "I think you'll find it quieter here, away from me," Brianna said. "I don't want to distract you while you study."

  I strongly suspected she really meant the reverse but summoned up a smile of thanks anyway.

  "I've chosen the most basic of my magic texts for you to start with," Brianna said, and I nearly choked at the sight of the massive tome waiting for me on that table. It lay open, a small weight shaped like a curled up cat holding the front cover down. The writing was so tiny, and it filled the page with no drawings, no charts, and only the narrowest of margins at the frayed edges of the page.

  This was the most basic book she had?

  "And this is a gift," Brianna said, thrusting a smaller book into my hands. I quickly set my coffee aside to take it. The book was smaller than the tome, small enough to fit inside a purse, but thick. Like a leather-bound brick of paper. The leather and the paper both smelled new, and when I opened it up, I found all of the pages were blank. "It's a journal. You can use it to organize your own thoughts about what you are reading. It's the best way to learn, like interacting with the text. I have tons."

  She looked insanely pleased. I mustered up a smile. "Thanks. This is great. So, what do I do?"

  Br
ianna's happy smile faltered a little. "What do you mean?"

  "Do I have an assignment or something? Like in school?"

  "No," Brianna said. "It's more a self-directed study."

  "I don't think I got as much out of my school days as you did," I said.

  "This isn't like school," Brianna said. "It's more interesting because it's stuff you can use."

  "Maybe," I said, touching the completely intimidating tome waiting for me on the table. "What if I don't understand something? Do you want me to ask you?"

  Brianna chewed her lip and frowned. I think we were both picturing the same thing: me interrupting her work every minute or two to ask another question, the answer to which would probably seem completely obvious to Brianna.

  "You can make a list," she said at last. "We'll go over it together at lunchtime. Then I can show you the main source books and how to use them. I'm sure you'll be finding your own answers in no time."

  I was somewhat less sure, but I still gave her a reassuring smile and shooed her back to her own table. Whatever she was working on probably was really important. I shouldn't be a distraction.

  I sat down at the table and set my journal down on the table, standing on its spine. I opened both covers and flattened them down, then paged both sides closer to the center and flattened them down again, then again and again until I was in the center of the book.

  The thing is, I did love books. I didn't own many, but I had been a constant presence in my local library. But my preference had always been for fiction. I had consumed stories like a fiend.

  I set the journal down flat and took up the pen Brianna had left for me, then looked down at the first page of the tome. I doubted very much this was a story that was going to sweep me up and carry me away to a land where time flew by as I turned the pages.

  But still, I was in a warm, cozy library with a hot mug of coffee and my only job was to read and make some notes. After so many years working long shifts on my feet all day in a chronically understaffed diner, this was practically a vacation.

  I mean, how dry could a book be?