Now You See Me

by Debbie Viguié

  “Your father’s heart did not betray him!” she hissed.

  Panic flared in her and Opal yanked her hand as hard as she could. She broke the old woman’s hold and ran back toward the hospital. She turned the corner of the building and ran straight into Mal who caught her and barely managed to keep them both from tumbling to the ground.

  “What is it?” he asked, eyes full of concern.

  “The old woman, the witch-” she panted, heart racing and feeling like it was going to explode. She clutched her chest, thinking about her dad and what had happened to him as her panic increased.

  “What did the witch do to you?” Mal demanded, shaking her shoulders slightly.

  “She grabbed my wrist...she said...my father...” her heart was racing faster and faster and she forced herself to try and take deep breaths but she couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen.

  “Opal, what’s wrong?” Mal was shouting now.

  “My heart...” she managed to get out. “It hurts.”

  Mal said something she couldn’t understand. The pressure and the pain were building up. Mal picked her up and was sprinting toward the car. She tried to tell him to take her to the emergency room, but the words wouldn’t come out.

  Before she knew what was happening he had put her down in the passenger seat of his car. He grabbed her shirt and tore it open. She heard the fabric rip and buttons flew everywhere.

  “What?” she managed to ask.

  Her heart was racing impossibly fast and the pain was excruciating.

  Mal yanked his shirt off and knelt beside her. He placed his right hand over his heart and his left hand on her chest over her heart.

  “Cor tuum, ut cor meum,” he whispered.

  A moment later Mal screamed, his voice full of pain. There was a flash of warmth through her chest and then suddenly her heart slowed. The pain stopped a moment later and she sobbed in relief.

  Tears were streaming down Mal’s face and he was gasping like she had been a moment before. Little grunting sounds of anguish escaped him and he squeezed his eyes shut.

  Her heart finally felt like it had returned to normal. She looked down and realized that part of Mal’s hand was on her left breast. Flustered she tried to push it away, but she couldn’t move his hand. His face was twisted in pain. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on her thigh as he began to shake all over.

  “What’s happening?” she asked, finding her voice.

  He was silent for several seconds then he finally lifted his head. He removed his hand from her chest and stood slowly. He looked at her and she noticed that he was white as a sheet.

  “She tried to kill you,” he whispered.

  “What?” Opal asked.

  He nodded. “And I just saved your life.”

  13

  Opal tried to pull the remnants of her ruined shirt back over her chest as she stared at Mal. As it was she couldn’t even manage to entirely cover her bra.

  “Stay here. I need to see if I can find her. Lock the doors,” he said.

  “Mal, wait!”

  He had already turned, though, and was moving slowly across the parking lot. She slammed the door shut and locked it.

  She looked down at her chest. Where Mal’s hand had been was a faint redness like a sunburn. She could see the outline of each of his fingers.

  Something extraordinary had happened, but it was like her mind refused to believe what her eyes were seeing.

  “It’s just some kind of trick,” she whispered, hoping that hearing herself say it out loud would make it easier for her to believe it.

  She had been terrified before but her heart had never gone out of control like that. Then, somehow, Mal had slowed it back down.

  She shivered and turned to look for him. She didn’t see him anywhere. She twisted around and looked in the other direction, but still saw no sign of him.

  “Please, please come back,” she said.

  The silence and emptiness in the car unnerved her. Her imagination began running away with her. Had the old woman really been able to do that to her heart? If so, how?

  She thought of her aunt in the hospital. The doctor had said there had been some weird chemicals in her system, just as Mal had thought there might be. Was it possible this was something similar? Had the old woman used some sort of topical poison on Opal? If that was the case, though, wouldn’t Mal have had to do something to her arm where it would have been administered?

  Finally she saw Mal walking back to the car. He looked furious. He walked with a strong, purposeful stride, hands held out to his sides with the fingers splayed apart. For just a moment she could swear she saw flashes of blue trailing from his fingertips.

  She blinked and the illusion was gone. Seconds later he was in the car.

  “I couldn’t find her,” he growled. He turned and looked at her and his voice was softer when he spoke again. “Are you okay?”

  “No! I’m not,” she said, staring at him. “First that crazy woman started talking about my dad, then I felt like my heart was going to explode, and just when I thought it couldn’t get worse you went all bizarre and left some kind of mark on me while trying to cop a feel. Then you said she was trying to kill me and you took off. So, no, really not okay.”

  He scowled. “I was not trying to cop a feel. I was feeling your heart, trying to slow it down.”

  “Like that’s even possible,” she snorted. “So, explain the burn mark you left behind.”

  He yanked her shirt back open and stared for a moment at the red skin in the shape of a handprint.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he said, letting go of her shirt.

  “What is going on?” she said, pulling it back closed again.

  “I’ll tell you, but not here. We need to get you someplace safe.”

  “Take me home,” she said.

  “That’s not the...okay,” he said.

  He sounded like he had been about to protest and then changed his mind. He started the car and left the hospital.

  Opal found herself staring out the window, looking for the old woman. What had she meant about her father’s heart not betraying him?

  They finally pulled up in front of Opal’s house. Even though the street was empty she ran up the steps, not wanting to be seen in her ruined shirt. She unlocked the door, but before she could push it open Mal put his hand on hers.

  “Let me go first, just to make sure it’s safe,” he said softly.

  She was about to tell him that it was safe and he needed to calm down, but then she glanced at him and saw the muscle in his jaw working. He was clearly on edge, ready for trouble. Slowly she nodded. It was better to be paranoid and safe than complacent and sorry.

  She glanced up and down the street again, making sure no one was watching as he pushed open the door and walked inside. He had his hands raised in a defensive posture and just for a second she thought she saw blue lightning sparking between his fingertips again.

  He disappeared inside the house. Several seconds passed and then the lights turned on inside and he reappeared at the door. “Come in,” he said.

  She did and he closed and locked the door behind her.

  “I’m going to change,” she said, indicating her shirt.

  “Sure, I’ll be here,” he said, running a hand through his hair. His agitation was communicating itself to her and her anxiety levels started climbing higher even as she ascended the stairs toward her room. Something strange was happening and as she changed into a new shirt she couldn’t deny that she felt like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down into an ocean strewn with jagged rocks and wondering if she jumped how long she could survive.

  Once she had a new shirt on she hesitated before leaving her room. Part of her was afraid to go because she sensed that a change was coming once she did. There had been so much change lately she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

  Mal was waiting for her and she knew she couldn’t make him wait forever. She grip
ped the doorknob hard. She liked him, a lot. It scared her how much she felt for him in such a short time. Things were moving so fast and she barely knew him. Part of her was worried that if she knew him better things would either progress even further or stop completely. She wasn’t sure which prospect scared her more at that moment.

  “I just want something stable, something I can hold onto,” she told herself.

  The skin on her chest tingled slightly where the skin still bore his handprint. How that was possible she didn’t know. Chemicals and heat and sunlight could all leave burns, but a human hand? It made no sense. A lot of things didn’t make sense lately, not least of all was her aunt’s current state.

  She took a deep breath. She needed answers even if she didn’t want them.

  The truth shall set you free.

  The phrase had been a favorite of her father’s and it came to her now, unbidden. If she closed her eyes she could almost hear him whispering it to her.

  She opened the door and left her room. She walked down the stairs and when she reached the bottom she turned toward the living room. Mal was pacing back and forth, agitation radiating off of him. She sucked in her breath as she could feel his emotions hitting her.

  She inhaled and exhaled slowly and repeated her father’s mantra one more time. Feeling steadier she walked into the room.

  Mal twisted around and a tiny smile touched the corners of his mouth when he saw her. “Better?” he asked.

  “More decent, at any rate,” she said.

  She sat down on the couch and after a moment’s hesitation he did the same. He opened his mouth twice and twice more snapped it shut as if trying to hold back the words.

  “So, there’s something you clearly need to tell me,” she said.

  He hung his head and heaved a sigh. “You know how sometimes when you’re waiting to do something or say something there will be a hundred ways to do it, but you don’t act, then when the time finally comes it’s awful, awkward and painful?”

  “You’ve been wanting to tell me something?”

  “Since the moment we met,” he admitted. “And I should have.”

  “Well, I’m here and I’m listening,” she said, trying to keep her voice soft and soothing.

  He still looked like a frightened deer that was going to bolt at any second. She reached out and took his hand, partly to soothe him and partly to keep him from jumping up and racing out the door. It felt like that was what he was about to do.

  He sighed again and this time his whole body shuddered. Her own anxiety was building, but she realized she needed to be calm for both of them. “It’s okay,” she said at last. “If you don’t want to tell me now, you don’t have to. It can wait.”

  That’s not what she wanted to say, but she was hoping that it would help him calm down enough to get it out.

  “Actually it can’t wait,” he said. “It also has something to do with why I couldn’t really wait any longer to give you that ring. I’d already risked too much by waiting as long as I had.”

  “Just tell me,” she said, even more softly.

  “There’s something I have that’s pretty rare.”

  “You don’t have a fatal illness do you?” she asked as a sick feeling crept over her. It would make so much sense, including trying to rush things with her.

  “No, nothing that simple,” he said.

  She blinked rapidly. “Okay,” she said, drawing the word out.

  “I can do things. I have talents, abilities that most people don’t.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  He looked up, locking his eyes on her. “I can do real magic.”

  “Real magic? What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I mean, real magic. It exists in the world and I can use it, manipulate it,” he said, still eyeing her intently.

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Not impossible, just highly improbable,” he said with the faintest of smiles. He lifted his right hand and this time she knew she didn’t imagine the lightning that danced from one fingertip to another.

  “It’s an illusion, it has to be,” she said.

  “I assure you it is quite real,” he answered.

  She shook her head slowly.

  Mal stood up and moved to face her. He was standing about three feet away. “Please don’t freak out. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  He turned his hands so his palms were facing upward. He stood for a moment and then snapped his fingers and suddenly both his hands were engulfed in fire.

  She yelped in surprise.

  “It’s okay,” he said.

  “It’s just another trick,” she said.

  “No, it’s not.”

  He took a step forward and she could feel the heat of the flames.

  She took a deep breath. “I’ve seen fire dancers and stuntmen in theme park shows do things like that,” she said, forcing herself to relax.

  “But you’ve never seen them do this.”

  Mal snapped his fingers again and the fire disappeared and lightning took its place. It danced between his fingertips then it arced through the air in front of him. She could smell the ozone. Then the lightning began swirling around him faster and faster. In the center of it he stood perfectly still, eyes glowing.

  She gaped at him, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was seeing. It had to be a trick, an illusion, just like the butterflies.

  The lightning ceased and Mal stood, staring at her. His eyes were still glowing and even though she could feel her pulse skittering at the sight she reminded herself that there were probably special effects contacts and things of that nature that could make them appear like that.

  “You don’t believe me yet,” he said.

  “They’re amazing tricks,” she answered.

  He nodded. A moment later he clapped his hands together once then threw them apart. Hundreds of butterflies exploded into being and began flying around the room.

  “Oh!”

  They flew and swirled for ten seconds and then he clapped his hands and they vanished.

  She started to her feet with a cry. “Where did they go?”

  “I sent them back to where I got them from.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I told you. I can do real magic.”

  “But magic isn’t real.”

  He took her hand and pulled her into his arms. “Hold onto me tight.”

  She put her arms around his neck.

  “Cubiculum,” he whispered.

  There was a sudden roaring sound and lightning swirled around them and there was lightning dancing in Mal’s eyes again.

  She felt a rush of wind and then suddenly it all stopped. She pulled back as Mal groaned and crashed to his knees.

  Her heart was pounding in her chest and the hair was standing on end all over her body as she looked slowly around. They weren’t in her aunt’s living room anymore. She didn’t know where they were.

  It was a large room with black walls and carpet. Star constellations were spiraling around the ceiling. There was a huge bookshelf along one wall crammed with books, some of them very old looking. Another wall held a workbench filled with science equipment. A bed was shoved up against the far wall.

  She looked down at Mal who was still on his knees. He was shaking hard. With a gasp he toppled over.

  “What did you do?” she asked.

  “I teleported both of us here,” he said, gasping.

  She sank down on the floor next to him. Her mind was reeling and she felt like she was in some kind of dream. “Are you okay?”

  “It takes everything I have to do that. I’ll recover, but it’ll take a little while.”

  She touched his cheek with her hand and was startled when she realized it was very cold, almost like ice.

  “Where are we?” she asked.

  “This is my room,” he said.

  She looked around again. She had never seen a room like it before.

  She turned back to Mal.
His lips were blue and he was shaking even harder.

  “You look terrible.”

  “I’ve never taken someone with me. It took so much energy that I’m struggling now to keep my body alive with what I have left.”

  “What?” she exclaimed, horrified.

  “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not! What can I do to help you recover?”

  He shook his head. “Just talk to me, keep my mind off how cold I am.”

  “You can do real magic,” she said, a sense of awe washing over her.

  “Told you.”

  She touched his cold cheek again and he leaned into her hand with a soft groan. She could feel warmth and energy passing out of her and into him. His cheek grew warmer.

  She put her other hand on his other cheek. He closed his eyes and then she leaned down and kissed him.

  He was still shaking.

  She laid down on her side next to him and put her arm over him, willing her energy into him. She watched his face as she did so, hoping that it was working.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Share your energy with me.”

  “You nearly died to bring me here. It’s the least I can do.”

  Another minute passed and he stopped shaking.

  “I’m doing much better. Another minute and we can go back to your house.”

  “Teleport again?” she asked.

  “No, the old fashioned way, walking.”

  “So, this is your room?” she asked, not sure if she was going to laugh or cry at that moment. The whole world had just shifted, as she had felt it was going to.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s weird. Like you.” It was a dumb thing to say, but it was all that came to her.

  “I work here. I sleep here. I plan out my magic both real and illusion here. I do everything here.”

  Magic. Real Magic.

  “How long have you been doing magic?” she asked.

  “Pretty much all my life.”

  He had told her he was different, that people started to notice that when he was little. With a start she thought of the cryptic conversation he’d had with Hannah at lunch.

  “Hannah knows about the magic, doesn’t she?”