Now You See Me

by Debbie Viguié

  “Now, what exactly is going on?” she asked.

  Opal glanced uneasily at Mal.

  Mal looked at Tanya square in the eyes. “He’s a mentally challenged man who thinks Opal is pretty.” His voice had dropped very low and he was speaking slowly. “He startled her the other day. I’ll be speaking to his caregivers to let them know that Opal would prefer he stay away from her. Everything should be just fine.”

  Opal gaped at Mal. She had been desperately trying to figure out what to tell her aunt without mentioning magic users who had it in for Mal. The explanation he gave was one of the only ones that could possibly dissuade her aunt from wanting to take further action. Moreover he said it with such intensity that for a moment even Opal caught herself believing it.

  He’s using magic, she realized. She watched as her aunt slowly nodded. And it’s working.

  “Well, as long as he doesn’t scare Opal anymore,” Tanya said.

  “He won’t, I promise,” Mal said, his voice still deep.

  Tanya looked down at her plate and then a moment later looked up with a smile. “Well, now that we’ve gotten that straightened out, let’s eat,” she said cheerfully.

  Opal was amazed and also intensely relieved. This was the second time Mal had been able to do something like this to her aunt. She just hoped it didn’t become a habit. She also hoped that the people who kept coming after her would stop.

  They won’t stop unless Mal stops them.

  She was feeling a lot less hungry than she had earlier but she forced herself to smile back at her aunt and start eating her own slices of pizza.

  Fortunately Mal was able to keep up a lighthearted stream of conversation with Tanya while they all ate. It was more than Opal was capable of at that point. She just focused on swallowing and getting through the food on her plate. It was with a sense of relief that she finally finished. Moments later her aunt pushed back her plate.

  “Well, I’m full, and a lot more tired than I thought I was,” Tanya said with a yawn. “I had more work I was going to do tonight, but I’m just too pooped.”

  “Why don’t you head upstairs. I’ll put away the food and see Mal off,” Opal said quickly.

  “Okay,” Tanya said, standing up slowly. “Good night, you two.”

  “Good night,” Mal and Opal chorused.

  Her aunt moved to the stairs and Opal sat, listening, until she heard her aunt’s door close upstairs at which point she slumped in her seat.

  “Are you okay?” Mal asked, frowning at her.

  “My nerves are a bit shot,” she admitted. “I have two people out to get me and having to hide that from Aunt Tanya is stressful.”

  Mal reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry I got you into all this,” he said.

  She gave him a small smile. “You’re worth it,” she said.

  He grinned at that. “Good to know.” His grin faded a moment later, though. “I am going to find a way to get people to stop coming after you,” he said.

  “How?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something.”

  “What did you do to that guy?”

  “Jonas? I surprised him for one thing. He didn’t seem ready for me to teleport right next to him. I got in two good punches before he managed to teleport away.”

  “What do you think he was planning to do?” Opal asked.

  “I don’t know. Frankly I’m surprised that he escalated it beyond stalking you to actually looking for a face-to-face. I have no idea what his plans were.”

  She shuddered. “Somehow that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  “I’m sorry. I could make up something if it would help.”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, in any case, I’ll be walking you to and from school every day until we get things straightened out. In the evenings I’m just a few doors away, but I can’t risk you being alone for that long a stretch again. I don’t want a repeat of this morning.”

  “Who does?” she asked with a shudder.

  He glanced down at her arms. “You haven’t taken the bandages off.”

  “I forgot,” she said, looking down as well. She grabbed the end of the bandage on her right arm and pulled. It came free and she stared in amazement at the skin which just that morning had been scraped up. It now looked like nothing had happened to it. She did the same to the other arm which looked equally good.

  “Wow. Thank you,” she said. She got up and threw out the bandages then washed her hands.

  “It was no big deal,” he said.

  She put the pizza box in the fridge and tossed the used plates in the trash. “To me it’s a very big deal,” she said as she sat back down. “I have a dress for Friday night,” she said, deciding to change the subject to something happier.

  “Awesome,” he said, lighting up.

  “It is. Just you wait.”

  “I’m looking forward to the performance. I’m hoping to get some pointers by watching a master.”

  “You still haven’t told me what trick you’re going to do for the talent show.”

  He glanced at her. “The show’s not for a month so I still have some time to work things out. And, actually, I’ve been rethinking my original idea given everything with you and me. I was kinda wondering if you’d be willing to be my assistant? If I have someone I’m working with that really opens the door to all kinds of bigger, more exciting tricks.”

  “Would I have to wear a skimpy little costume?” she asked dubiously.

  “Absolutely,” he said with a smirk. “Not for the audience’s benefit but for mine.”

  “I see how it is.”

  “So, will you do it?”

  “Sure, why not? It could be fun,” she said. “Besides, you’ll be the one doing all the real work. I just have to show up and look pretty, right?” she teased.

  “That depends entirely on what trick we do,” he said. “Sometimes the magician is the one drawing the audience’s attention while the assistant is busy operating the secret lever or trap door or what have you.”

  “I don’t want to do anything that’s going to require me to remember too much. I’ve never been on stage before. I don’t want to get stage fright. Something where I can be your human prop would be perfect.”

  He chuckled. “I have a hard time seeing you as that. Did you have anything in particular in mind?”

  “We should do the levitating thing,” she said. As soon as the words left her mouth she realized that had been a horrible suggestion.

  There was terrible silence for a moment. She had clearly still been fixating on the picture of her mother that had been burned, the one where she had been levitated by the guy who later was killed.

  “Do the trick that Greg did when he won the contest and then was murdered by someone who thought he had real magic?” Mal asked with a frown.

  “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t think before I suggested it,” she said. She was sure he wouldn’t be comfortable doing that. It was probably in the worst taste, too.

  “Actually, I think it’s a brilliant idea,” he said slowly. “This is the twentieth anniversary and the whole talent show at this point is done in his name to remember him. I think it would be cool. As long as you don’t have a problem playing your mom’s part.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  Opal nodded slowly. “Maybe they’ll take a picture of us and put it in the case.”

  He leaned forward. “I think that would be nice. It would be an homage to both of them that way.”

  Opal could feel tears beginning to sting her eyes and she quickly wiped at them. “I think it would be good. Do you think it’s something I can do?”

  He nodded. “We’re going to have to really work on it, but I think we can get it ready.”

  “Can’t you just, you know, make it happen?” she asked.

  He chuckled softly. “I can, but I’m not going to. All my stage magic is done without the use of real magic. It’s safer that way. I don’t w
ant to get caught doing something others couldn’t.”

  So many emotions were threatening to overwhelm her and she fought to push them down. She cleared her throat and tried to focus on the here and now, not the past. “Frankly, I’m surprised you do stage magic at all. Doesn’t it draw a lot of attention?”

  He nodded. “It’s frowned upon. In fact, I’m the only one I know of in the last half century who has pursued a career as a stage magician. I figure, though, it gives me plausible deniability.”

  “Anyone who accuses you of doing real magic looks crazy,” she said.

  “That’s pretty much it.”

  “So you want to be an actual magician, doing shows, maybe headlining Vegas someday?”

  “That’s the dream,” he said. “Of course, my dad wishes I’d be an Apothecary like him.”

  “An apothecary? Is that like a pharmacist?” she asked.

  “Sorry, no, it’s the name we give to magic users who decide not to choose either the light or the dark.”

  “So, he’s not a magician?” Opal asked.

  “No. My mom was a Magician. My dad is an Apothecary.”

  “So, if they don’t choose the light or the dark, what do they do?” she asked.

  “An Apothecary is a magic user who refuses to choose a side and instead almost always go into medicine. They are healers and are viewed as neutral, safe from both sides. Some are doctors, dentists, veterinarians. They use only healing magic and very little of it at that. Some refuse to use magic altogether. My dad is a pharmacist.”

  “And he expects you to do that?”

  “Hopes is more like it, although deep down he knows I’m not heading down that road.”

  “I think he alluded to that at dinner the other night,” she said. “He said he knew you wouldn’t be following in his footsteps.”

  “No, I’m going to be a Magician with a capital “M” and a stage magician, with a little “m”,” he said.

  “That still sounds like it could be risky.”

  “I like to think of it as hiding in plain sight although there are those who don’t like my plan.”

  “The same ones who don’t like you in general?”

  “Not entirely. There’s a lot of consensus on all sides that a real magician playing at being a stage magician is dangerous.”

  “Do you ever use real magic in your stage acts?”

  “No. I sometimes practice with real magic then teach myself how to replicate the trick without magic. It’s safer that way. Everything I do on stage a normal, very talented person can do. Plus, Magicians and Wizards never use magic for personal gain.”

  “Personal gain? Like impressing girls?” she asked archly.

  Mal actually blushed. “Okay, so maybe not never.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Anyway, it worked, didn’t it?”

  “Yes, I was very impressed.”

  “Well, then my little sidestep was worth it.”

  “Now who’s playing with fire?” she asked.

  “For you, I’d play with molten lava,” he said with a grin.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Well, you should probably play with molten lava another day. It’s getting late and I still have homework to do.”

  “Fine,” he said, in a fake dejected voice. “Thrown over for school. I see how it is.”

  She punched him lightly in the arm. Before she could pull her hand back he grabbed it and kissed it.

  He stood. “Alright, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She walked him to the door and gave him a quick kiss goodnight. As soon as she closed the door she locked it. A small tendril of fear wound its way through her. She had to get over this. If she only felt safe when Mal was around then things were going to get unbearable without him really fast.

  She turned off the lights downstairs and then headed up to her bedroom. She walked in and noticed that Midnight was sitting in the window seat, looking out at the street, his tail swishing.

  “Where have you been hiding all afternoon?” she asked him as she walked over.

  She picked up the kitten and glanced out the window. She froze. There, coming from the cemetery by Mal’s house was swirling blue lightning clashing with green lightning.

  22

  Opal watched, heart in her throat, as the two lightning balls swirled around each other. Mal, the blue one had to be Mal. She remembered how it had looked when he called the lightning around him in her living room. When he had chased after the witch that hurt her he’d returned, trailing blue lightning from his fingertips then. Was he fighting someone now?

  Opal stood, heart in her throat, and didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t call the police. If she went down there she only risked distracting Mal and being used as leverage against him. She didn’t know his father’s number to call him. Even if she did, though, what could he do?

  I can’t help him.

  The horror of that realization washed over her, driving her down onto the seat as her knees gave way beneath her. His father’s words echoed in her mind about how short Mal’s life expectancy was, especially given the attacks against him in recent weeks.

  He might be fighting for his life and there’s nothing I can do. I’m helpless.

  Midnight was still in her arms and the kitchen reached up and patted her cheek with one of his paws. She looked down at him as tears of frustration and fear welled in her eyes. A drop fell and hit him right on the nose making him sneeze.

  “I’m sorry, boy,” she whispered.

  She looked back out the window and watched as the blue lightning and the green lightning continued to clash. Every second that passed seemed an eternity.

  Then, suddenly the green lightning got more intense for a moment before winking out of existence. She stood up, staring as the blue lightning continued to pulse for another couple of seconds before going out. She grabbed for her phone and then thought better of it.

  She put Midnight down on the window seat, got up and headed downstairs as fast as she could. She paused when she made it to the front door, wondering briefly if she should let her aunt know she was going. She was likely asleep, though, and there was no time to really wake her and come up with an excuse.

  Opal flew down the front steps after closing the door behind her, ran across, the street, and made a beeline for the cemetery. She passed in front of Mal’s house and kept going. If he’d been fighting chances were good he hadn’t had the strength to teleport into his house. He was probably still in the cemetery.

  She crossed the street. The cemetery had a low wrought iron fence running around it that was only about three feet high. She walked down the sidewalk next to the fence peering inside, looking for some trace of Mal.

  She had gone about fifteen feet when she saw a dark form inside the cemetery a few feet from the fence.

  “Mal?” she called softly.

  There was no answer and the hair began to stand up on her arms. What if it wasn’t Mal? What if it was someone else? Someone who meant her or him harm? She stood for a moment debating what to do. The figure shifted slightly and she tensed, getting ready to run if she had to. Then again, if she ran whoever it was might give chase. Maybe the best plan was to turn and just walk calmly back the way she had come.

  She turned, walked three steps and then heard, “Opal?”

  Relief surged through her as she recognized Mal’s voice. She turned back to the fence and the dark figure slowly moved toward it. She could see Mal’s features as he got right up to it.

  “What are you doing out here?” he asked, gripping the fence and swaying slightly on his feet.

  “I saw lightning from my room - blue and green. I was worried you were in a fight. When the green lightning disappeared I came to see if you were okay.”

  “You’re right, it was a fight,” Mal said.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I will be in a while.”

  “Was it with Jonas?”

  “Actually no. It was with someone I didn’t re
cognize. When I left your house I came down here to start setting up some wards so that if another magic user even came onto this street I would know. I had just started when this guy surprised me.”

  “Don’t you know all the local magic users?” she asked.

  He nodded. “He must have been from out of town.”

  “Then why was he here?” she asked with a frown.

  “I’ve been suspicious that someone is trying to organize the Tricksters and Sorcerers for the past year or so. I don’t know who and I was beginning to think maybe I was just seeing patterns where none existed. This makes me think I’m right, though.”

  “And I’m guessing that would be bad.”

  “Very bad. Something like that hasn’t been tried in a thousand years or more. It would take an incredibly strong Sorcerer to do it, too.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” she said, involuntarily glancing over her shoulder.

  “I’m hoping that some of the others will start listening now. If the Tricksters and Sorcerers are organizing we need to be prepared.”

  He had been leaning his weight against the fence and he slowly straightened. “At any rate, we need to get you back home and then I need to finish warding the street.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

  “No, just get inside and lock the doors,” he said grimly.

  He carefully climbed over the gate. She was quick to notice that he was strongly favoring his left side.

  “You are hurt,” she said.

  “It’s healing as we speak,” he said.

  He took her hand and together they headed back for her house. They walked slowly because he was limping.

  “I felt so helpless watching and knowing there was nothing I could do,” she admitted.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. It was just...scary, you know?”

  He tightened his grip on her hand. “I’m going to do everything I can to protect you.”

  “I wasn’t scared of getting hurt. I was scared you would; scared that I’d lose you.”

  “You won’t,” he reassured her. He didn’t sound nearly as confident as she would like, though.