by Leanne Leeds
Then Gunther and I studied paranormal political history, and our idealism popped like a balloon punctured by the pin of reality.
“He’s a very handsome young man, Charlotte,” Jeannie teased, pulling me back from my daydreams. “It’s a wonder you can concentrate on anything at all when you’re sitting next to him. I’ve granted wishes that weren’t as cute as that young man.”
“We’re just working on the lawgiver thing, Jeannie. He’s a friend. I have enough on my plate right now without the complications of a relationship.” I averted my eyes and stared out of the window hoping the subject would change. Quickly.
“Of course,” Jeannie nodded. Her eyes moved over to Uncle Phil, and she softened. “All great love stories should start out like that. I know mine did.”
Uncle Phil stepped forward to fold Jeannie into his arms, and he kissed her on the top of her head. They gazed at one another fondly and then turned back still arm in arm.
“No love here,” I told them. “Just friendship.”
“Of course, Charlotte,” Jeannie smiled. “Just remember, dear, you’re living as a witch now. Destiny has a way of finding paranormals just when we expect it’s not looking for us.”
“I’ve had enough destiny for one lifetime, Jeannie. Destiny needs to go bother someone else for a while.”
“Oh, destiny can expand beyond lifetimes, Charlotte,” Uncle Phil smiled at me. “I’m proof of that. In any event, the Werebear Jamboree. I think it’s a marvelous idea. Let’s do it.”
Salmon.
Be silent.
Salmon.
Samson, I swear, you must be quiet. Let me focus.
Salmon salmon salmon.
“Oh my gosh, will you just shut up!” I yelled out loud at the cat as I heaved a pen at him. Samson scrambled like mad to evade the projectile and knocked down a stack of books, and a lamp, with a deafening clatter.
Not my fault.
Shut up.
“Um… is there something I can help you with?” Gunther asked as he glanced up from a crumbling parchment. His face bore that bemused expression that caused my heart to skip one or two beats. With one eyebrow lifted and a half smirk on his face, Gunther would have made any woman swoon.
Ahem. Except for me. I don’t swoon.
“Sorry. Samson can’t wait for us to move to Big Bear Mesa tomorrow. All I can hear is the word salmon echoing in my head. Over and over. Loudly. I can’t concentrate on anything we’re looking at. I’m just frustrated, that’s all.”
“My parents took me to that when I was younger,” Gunther said, leaning back in his chair. “If you’ve never been, it’s enjoyable. They have drum circles and tree climbing contests. And Samson is right, the salmon is extraordinary. A lot of the bears own five-moon fish restaurants in paranormal towns, and they have some amazing chefs.”
“Five moons?”
“It’s the highest number of moons you can earn.”
“At least salmon is healthy. Sounds like we’ll be eating a lot over the next week. I could use a break from funnel cakes and cotton candy.”
“My Mom loved the Jamboree,” Gunther said as he gazed off into the distance. After a few seconds, he turned back. “Anyway, you should make sure someone lets the ghosts know they can come out and meander around while you’re there.”
“Oh?”
“The Jamboree is on a mesa. They’ll be shielded from view. No one can get up there if they’re human, and the tree cover is pretty dense, so no one has to worry about planes or helicopters or anything.”
“I still don’t get why they never come out of the haunted house,” I told him, closing the book I was reading and stretching my aching shoulders. “I went to talk to them about a solution to their being locked up all the time, they insisted they were happy where they were.”
“Ghosts can be a little strange. They really can go anywhere and do anything, but most of them stick to a location or a house or a place, sometimes for years. No idea why, but it always seems to happen that way. I think time feels different to them.” Gunther nodded toward my stretching arms. “You sore?”
“Yeah, being stooped over these books day after day is not doing my posture any good.”
“I’d be happy to rub your shoulders if you’d like. I give a pretty good massage. At least that’s what some folks have told me.”
Nothing was inappropriate in Gunther’s offer, statement, or voice, but what he said made butterflies in my gut all the same. I leaned forward and put my chin on my hands. “Do you do that on purpose?”
“Do I do what on purpose?” he asked.
I’m taking off, Samson said as he jumped down and headed toward the door. There is no way I want to be here for this exchange. Delilah meowed and hopped off the table to scurry after Samson.
“I think you know what I mean,” I told Gunther as I stood up and snatched the books. “Your ‘I’m flirting but acting like I’m not flirting’ thing.” I stacked the books from my side of the table and walked them over to the bookshelf.
“Am I flirting?” Gunther asked. I could hear the amusement in his voice even though I refused to look at him.
“Are you?”
“Depends. Is the flirting working?” I blushed but continued to shelve each volume, one by one. Slowly. So I wouldn’t have to turn around and look at him until the surge of pink faded from my face.
“No.”
“Charlotte?”
“Yes?”
“You know your neck flushes pink when you blush, too, so turning your back to me isn’t hiding anything,” he told me. I hurled the books back on the shelves as fast as I could and spun around. He was laughing at me.
I did not smile back.
“Well, at least you’re getting practice in for Impy,” I told him with a little more snark than I intended, crossing my arms. “All those hot girls you went to school with will freak out when they find out you were actually cute under all that bright light.”
“So you think I’m cute? Is that what you’re saying?” Gunther asked, smiling.
“I didn’t say I thought you were cute,” I told him as Fiona stepped into my yurt. My declaration stopped her in her tracks as her eyes glanced from Gunther to me. Fiona waited for someone to say something, but Gunther only grinned at her.
With a roll of her eyes and an exhale, she spun and left the yurt without saying a word.
Traitor.
“One of these days, Charlotte, you’re going to realize we should absolutely go out on a date. I’m telling you,” Gunther said as he shoved his chair away from the table.
“One of these days you’re going to realize that you’re a full-blooded witch now and you can date anyone you want,” I told him.
“I already do realize that, and I still think we should at least go on one date,” Gunther told me as he stacked the books in front of him. “I mean, at least reject me after we’ve had a bad date. Rejecting me before that just seems judgmental and unfair.”
I sighed.
Gunther reached for a scroll to roll it up. As he rolled, he paused and looked up at me. “You do realize I’m serious, don’t you?”
“You do realize you’ve never actually asked me on a date, right? Besides, it doesn’t matter if you’re serious or not,” I told him. “We’re both going to be ringmasters. We can never date because we’ll never see each other.”
Gunther laughed.
“What? What was that for?”
“Your insistence we can never date because we will never see each other has a clear argument.”
“Oh?”
“You and I see each other every day now. For hours at a time. In fact, I think I see you more than I see my father.”
“Right, but you’re not the ringmaster yet,” I told Gunther as I grabbed the scrolls from the table to place them back in the cabinet.
“Let me ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Before you became ringmaster, did you not live your life while you waited for a maybe
? Or did you just go about your life and live it and adapt when your trajectory changed?”
“That’s not the same thing at all, and you know it,” I told him. “I had no idea at all I would become ringmaster. There was no way I could have planned for it. I didn’t even really comprehend it was a possibility.”
“I only know it’s a possibility for me. Nothing is ever certain, Charlotte. My father could live for hundreds of years.”
“Oh, come on, Gunther. It’s more than a possibility for you, and you know it,” I argued. “You’re the only one of your bloodline left. Besides, you haven’t visited a single paranormal town since becoming a full witch. I bet you’ll meet someone perfect for you. That’s easier to do when you don’t glow like a light bulb, you know.”
Gunther grabbed my hand and pressed it with a sigh.
“You’re a headstrong woman, Charlotte Astley.”
“I am not! I’m just a realist.” I yanked my hand away.
I agree with Gunther, Samson said.
Shut up. No one asked you.
2
Salmon.
If you don’t let me concentrate, we’ll never get there.
Salmon.
Samson, be quiet. Let me focus.
Salmon salmon salmon.
“Is there any way at all to make that cat shut his mouth?”
“He’s not talking,” Fiona said, confused.
“He is,” Uncle Phil told her. “He’s got that telepathic link with Charlotte and I both, and we’re very clear on what he wants. He’s repeating it like he’s a broken record.”
“What’s a record?” Ningul asked as he walked up. Fiona lit up and grabbed his hand.
“It’s a diary, isn’t it?” Fiona told him.
“No, it’s like a ledger with lines of money in it,” Anya said as she walked up.
“A diary of money?” Ningul asked.
“Could all of you stop talking?” I asked them with no little exasperation. Holding my hand out, I manifested a dictionary and handed it to Ningul. “Here. Look it up in the dictionary.”
“What’s a dictionary?” Ningul asked as he turned the book over in his hands.
Salmon.
I glared at everyone assembled, spun on my heel, and walked away.
“Charlotte, where are you going?”
“To move the midway! Alone! In a corner! You’re all driving me absolutely crazy!”
Without bothering to look back at the group, I stomped off to hide behind the roller coaster. I hoped the fake engines that fake ran the thing would act like white noise and drown everyone out both inside and outside my head.
As I turned the corner, I smacked into Bolt, the handsome elf that kept the Sticky Walls ride spinning. His hands shot out and grabbed my shoulders before I lost my balance and tumbled into the dirt.
“Charlotte, are you all right? I’m incredibly sorry. There’s usually no one wandering around back here so I wasn’t taking the care that I should,” he said as he released me. “I didn’t harm you, did I?”
“No, I’m okay,” I told him as I pulled my exploded hair back into a ponytail. My nose ached after colliding with his muscular chest. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I feel like I stabbed you with my nose.”
“Oh, no. Hold still, Charlotte,” he said as he leaned down to peer at my face. He withdrew a clean, white rag from his back pocket and gently wiped my cheek. “I’m afraid my shirt got some oil on you.” He continued to carefully rub the rag gently on my lip, and then my nose as I stared up into his ice blue-gray eyes.
“There,” he said, standing back to his full 6’4” height. “As lovely as ever.”
I blushed.
“Where were you going in such a hurry?” I asked him.
“Oh, just back to the yurt,” he answered. “I’d like to clean up before we arrive at the Jamboree. You seemed to be in quite a hurry yourself.”
“I was just trying to move the midway, and everyone was chattering in my ear.”
It’s my job to chatter in your ear. My responsibility. And leaving the area does not get my voice out of your head, you know. I can prattle in your head from the other side of the fairgrounds.
“Now only Samson is chattering in my ear,” I told Bolt. “It’s not perfect, but it’s better than it was before.” The longer I stared at the elf, the more I felt my heart flutter inside my chest. Bolt’s gaze was magnetic.
Elves have magical powers of beauty and seduction.
I believe it. Holy blue rose, he’s cute. How did I not notice how cute he was when I talked to him during the whole human/council issue?
Adrenaline dims the response, and you were worried about Mark. It’s a defense that all witches have against natural elven charm. When you’re relaxed, though, it can be overwhelming if they turn it on.
I’m not relaxed, though.
Apparently, you’re relaxed enough.
“I would be happy to escort you to a private area and keep everyone away if you need solitude, Charlotte,” Bolt said, smoldering in my direction. My head suddenly felt woozy, as if I were drunk.
“I… uh, I can… that would be…”
“That’s alright, I’ve got her,” Gunther said as he rapidly stepped up on Bolt and me. “I’m sure you were busy, elf.”
“I’m never too busy to serve our ringmaster,” Bolt told Gunther as he leaned closer. “Service to the Magical Midway is an honor for an elf. We bring status to our clans by serving high leadership.”
“Charlotte doesn’t need service,” Gunther said tightly as he reached for my arm.
“I could use… um… what was I saying?”
“Come on, Charlotte, you have to move the midway,” my friend said. Gunther stepped in front of Bolt to put himself between me and the sexy elf. “People are waiting on you.”
“Yeah, I have to… um… wow, I’m a little dizzy…” Gunther walked with me toward the darkness behind the roller coaster, but I twisted back toward Bolt. “Bye! Sorry again for… the bang?”
Bolt smiled at me and bowed as Gunther yanked me away.
“Ow, quit,” I complained as I shrugged my arm out of Gunther’s hand. “Why are you being such a jerk?”
“I’m not, I’m trying to get you outside of his influence so your head will clear. Here, sit down,” Gunther said as he placed me gently on a chair at the back of the roller coaster. “Breathe in and out, deeply. You should stop feeling quite so woozy in a minute.”
“I don’t feel w-w-woozy,” I told him and then burst into a giggle while the world tilted as if I had vertigo. Gunther knelt down in front of me and stared into my face with concern. “Gunther, you look like my dad when he’s very, very unhappy with me… are you very, very unhappy with me?” I asked him. I exploded into laughter and slapped my hand on his thigh.
“I’m not unhappy with you, Charlotte,” he told me, grabbing my hand and encircling it with his. “Just breathe, okay? You’ll be alright in a minute or two.”
“You are m-m-mad at me… you’re not smiling. You know, w-w-with your eyes,” I told him and stomped my foot.
“I could never be mad at you,” Gunther whispered. He leaned forward and brushed the hair from my face. Tingles ran up and down my spine from his touch. I closed my eyes and pushed my face into his hand. It was soft and warm, and it made me feel more stable with the vertigo attacking my mind.
“Charlotte,” Gunther whispered.
“Hmmmmmmm,” I said, leaning my face into his hand.
“I need to take my hand away from your face, Charlotte, and you’re leaning so much of your weight on it. I’m afraid you’ll fall over.”
I opened my eyes, and the pitch of the ground around me slowly righted itself. I jumped back into the chair away from Gunther’s hand. And face. And kneeling body that was way too close.
“What the heck? What just happened?”
“Elves have powers of seduction, and that energy can be very intoxicating. It seems Bolt decided to turn on his attraction for you and ringmaste
rs are not immune to their power,” Gunther explained.
“Bolt attracted to me? Of course he’s not,” I told Gunther. Pushing up from the chair, I stumbled, and Gunther caught me. I shoved away as if he’d burned me, and Gunther flinched. “Anyway, I need to move this stupid circus. The sun’s setting.”
“It is,” he agreed, stepping back into the friend zone where he needed to be. “I thought I’d come to the Jamboree with you if that’s okay. I figured we could take a break and decompress from all the work we’ve been doing.”
“Good deal,” I agreed. “Just keep me away from elves, that woozy thing could be dangerous.”
“Absolutely. I can commit to that without a problem. Believe me. No problem with that at all,” Gunther agreed a little too enthusiastically.
Trees appeared everywhere. In yurts. On the pathways. Up through canvas tops. It took me two hours of magical work to repair the damage I did when I plopped down the Magical Midway on top of a forest without thinking about clearing a place for it.
“I think that’s it,” I told Gunther after relocating the last of the most damaging trees. I wiped the sweat from my face with a towel. “That was exhausting.”
“That’s it, she says,” Enya, a werewolf, mumbled as she walked by. Her friend, Lyndis, nodded and glared at me. “I like the forest as much as the next wolf, but not exploding through my yurt! Idiot.”
“I’m sorry! At least no one was hurt, right?” I told them.
“This time,” Lyndis snapped.
“That’s enough,” Gunther snapped back, uncharacteristically annoyed at Lyndis’s comment. “Give her a break, will you? Haven’t you ever made a mistake?”
“That could have injured over a hundred people?” Enya asked as she kept walking past us. “Nope, can’t say that I have.”
Slamming down onto a bench, I watched the two wolf women walk away and tried not to take the sullen backward glances personally. They were right. I assumed that I could move the midway easily without Uncle Phil’s guidance for a change, but I was wrong. I forgot to specify that I wanted to be put down in a clearing. The midway plopped itself down right next to the Jamboree in a thick forest of tall evergreens.