by Skylar Finn
“Wait, when did this happen?” asked Cameron, looking gobsmacked. “Just now?”
“How much time has passed?” Tamsin said, looking at her Swatch. “This is crazy! It’s been hours. How--but wait, Sam, Father Death is gone? How did it happen? Was it you? Was it Cristo?”
I sat down on the floor. I felt like I needed to be sitting down for this. “I found Peter right away,” I said. “Well, not right away, but pretty close. He was never in any danger. It was a trick. A trap set for me by Father Death, who can look like anyone. He pretended to be Cristo. He pretended to be Lindy. He even looked like Peter, at the end. He was planning to take my heart all along. He was just waiting until midnight tonight, keeping an eye on me in the interval. Leading me astray so I would be so worried about everyone else that I’d forget to protect myself. I came back to the shop and he was here. Suki and Janice came, and we defeated him, but...Janice didn’t make it.”
Tamsin’s face fell. Cameron looked devastated. “She died?” he said in a small voice.
“You mean he killed her?” Tamsin looked livid. “That monster.”
“Father Death won’t hurt anyone else anytime soon,” said Suki quietly, appearing in the doorway. “His prison is impenetrable and inescapable. We knew there was a very strong likelihood that we would not make it out of this alive. I thought it would be both of us, but Janice wanted badly to protect me, so I could go on as a witch of time. As her heir, as we’d planned. She lived a long and full life and wanted the same for me. And both of us wanted to protect you, Samantha Hale, descendant of Samantha Black. You’re too important. So while I am devastated and filled with grief at the loss of my grandmother, she died defending all witches and people. It is a noble death. If I may trouble you with just one more thing, I would like to request your assistance in bringing her body back to our home.”
“Of course,” I answered immediately. “You saved our lives.”
Suki looked at me intently. “So did you,” she said.
I was embarrassed, for reasons I couldn’t fully explain. I knew that what I had done was important, even though I hadn’t known what I was doing until I did it, if that made any sense. But I didn’t want to think about my contribution. Janice was dead, she had given her life. She was the true hero of the night.
Suki, to my relief, didn’t elaborate. Instead, she changed the subject, turning to Cameron. “I will also need the clock back,” she said. “We knew that Father Death was looking for a heart, and that Sam’s was a likely candidate. We wanted to protect her. Failing that, there are only so many places powerful enough to perform a ritual such as his in the city, and this happens to be one of them; our home being another. We knew if we were to install one of our clocks here, it raised the possibility of our being able to stop time and therefore him, had he chosen to come here. Foresight is a most desirable thing, one that eluded Father Death.”
“That’s what happened the night we saw him?” Cameron asked. “You stopped time?”
“We needed to make a few test runs,” she admitted. “We knew the clock worked inside of our home, but we had never attempted to enact such powerful magic outside of that boundary.”
Suki stepped into the stockroom and raised a hand, looking towards the doorway. I watched as the clock drifted through it, coming to a rest beside us. It reminded me of the spell my mother had performed with Tamsin’s bag, though judging from Tamsin’s expression, it was much harder with a heavier object such as the clock. Naturally, Suki did it easily, as if it required little to no exertion on her part.
After the clock settled behind us, she levitated Janice’s body, wrapped in her black robe like a shroud. She opened the warped wooden door to the tunnel with a wave of her other hand. Tamsin blanched.
“There is nothing and no one there to bring us any harm now,” she said, correctly reading both our sentiments regarding the thought of returning to the crawl space. “The tunnels do not belong to such beings, regardless. They were trespassing. And this will be the quickest way back.”
Suki set both Janice and the clock drifting through the space ahead of us after tipping the clock on its side. She saw my expression and smiled at me. Without saying a word, she waved a hand and a bright light appeared. It illuminated the tunnel before us as the walls expanded and widened until it resembled a hallway instead of a tunnel. The bright light set off down the tunnel, bobbing merrily in front of us.
“Thank you,” I said gratefully as Suki entered ahead of me.
“There is no reason for anything to be either darker or more frightening than necessary for anyone involved,” she said.
Tamsin followed me into the tunnel. I could tell by her expression that she was, for once, at a loss for words. Her attitude was one of hushed respect. Cameron seemed similarly awed and was just as quiet. There was a mutual understanding that we were experiencing something much greater than ourselves, and it engendered a quietly reverential feeling in all of us.
I remembered the tunnel going on forever when we’d crawled through it before, partially because I was so frightened the seconds had stretched into hours. But now, as Suki uttered a sing-song chant shortly after we entered, the space seemed to lengthen, then shorten. The tunnel sloped upward, and I could see the light of the moon above. We emerged through an arched doorway at the entrance of her garden maze. It seemed she was a master of both time and space.
Suki left the clock at the entrance of the maze. We followed her to the center, surrounded on all sides by towering green hedge walls. In the middle was a large, nearly empty space interrupted only by a series of topiaries made to resemble a long table flanked by many chairs, all artfully cut from branches and leaves. Suki settled Janice’s body onto the table.
“We lay to rest Mother Night, the descendant of Mother Time, protector of all witches,” said Suki. We stood by her side, our heads bowed respectfully. “We honor her sacrifice and her life’s work, and send her home to the night sky. May she shine brightly over us ever after and protect us in dark times. We love and thank you.”
As we watched, Janice seemed to age in reverse until she looked like a young woman about Tamsin’s age. Her body rose into the night sky, higher and higher, and then gradually faded from sight. Suki’s face was filled with sadness. I imagined her in the empty old manor alone.
“What will you do now?” I asked her, after enough time had passed that it seemed acceptable to break the silence.
“I am now a witch of time,” she said. “I will become the gatekeeper and the guardian. I will protect our time from any who attempt to meddle or interfere. It is a great responsibility, and it is meant to be a lonely one.” She felt my concern for her and addressed it directly. “I got more time with my mentor than most, and for this I am grateful.”
“Well, if you ever want to, you know, hang out…” I trailed off, feeling my response to her recitation of her sacred duties was too absurd to complete.
Suki smiled. “Time witches do not really ‘hang out,’ typically. But I am of course always receptive to tea and cucumber sandwiches.”
“I do love your sandwiches,” Cameron said.
“There is just one thing I’d like you to have,” she said. “If you don’t mind accompanying me inside.” She turned to Tamsin and Cameron. “This is for Sam, specifically,” she said. “If you don’t mind.”
Tamsin looked taken aback and opened her mouth as if to protest. Cameron nudged her in the ribs. “We don’t mind,” he answered.
“No, of course not,” she agreed, flustered.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to them. Suki was already bounding ahead of me, down a passage that led toward the house.
“I’m sure this is entirely aboveboard,” said Tamsin, seating herself in one of the topiary chairs and crossing her arms. “But if you need to...send us a signal.”
I hid a smile. “I’m sure that it is. But I will.”
I followed Suki down the passage, around twists and turns and past dead ends, until we came to the o
pening of the maze. We faced the giant chessboard, and Suki skipped ahead of me, only stepping on the white spaces like stones across a river.
“Don’t touch the black,” she cautioned me over her shoulder. It felt like a very strange, very superstitious game of hopscotch. I looked over at the black spaces as I stepped across the white and saw that the surface rippled like a liquid mirror.
“What are they?” I called to Suki.
“They lead to other places,” she said. “Which isn’t to say that I couldn’t get you out again. But for the sake of convenience, it’s best you don’t fall in.”
We reached the edge of the board and climbed the steep, sloping green hill to the glassed-off patio. The door was open, and Suki led me inside. There was a narrow chamber at one end, and in it, I could make out the light of the fountain winking. Suki went in ahead of me.
“What is it?” I asked, following her in and gazing down at the pure, clear water.
“It is a sort of wishing well,” she answered. “Although in this case, it is quite literal.” She twitched her fingers, and a single coin rose from the fountain and twisted through the air toward her extended hand, drops of water falling off it onto the stone floor below. She handed the coin to me.
“If ever you are in need of an ally, and a friend,” she said. “Use the coin to summon me. I am often all over the world, and sometimes all over time. I can be difficult to get ahold of. But this will always lead you to me, and me to you.”
“Wow.” I studied the surface of the glittering silver coin. It was like no coin I’d ever seen: engraved with a language of characters I didn’t understand and embossed with what looked like a thumbprint on either side. “Thank you,” I said. It was like the coolest, most magical friendship bracelet I’d ever been given.
“I typically prefer to refrain from falling back on trite platitudes,” she said. “But sometimes, a friend in need truly is a friend indeed.”
She held open the door for me, the one that led back outside, down the hill and across the lawn, across the chessboard and into the hedge maze where my friends waited.
“Good-bye Samantha Hale, descendant of Samantha Black,” she said. “The power you possess is great. May you learn to harness and wield it to the benefit of yourself and all who surround you.”
31
Home is Where Your Socks Are
“What did she tell you?” Tamsin asked me curiously as we made our way out of the maze.
I showed her the coin. “She gave me this from a fountain in her house and told me if I ever needed to contact her, I could do it this way.”
Tamsin studied the coin and then handed it back to me. Her expression looked mildly confounded.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I didn’t quite believe you when you first told me about them,” she said. “They sounded too much to be believed...I kind of thought they might be hoodwinking you a little bit with theatrics because they knew you were newer to the magic community, but…”
“But what?” I prodded her.
“I’m newer to the magical community,” said Cameron, catching up to us. “Tell me all the news.”
“This is stuff I learned about when I was a kid, as like, mythology,” she said. “Supposedly, no one has power like this anymore. I had no idea people like Suki and her grandmother were out there. In many ways, I guess I’m still as naïve as you.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said.
“Great!” Cameron put his arms around both of us. “We can all be naïve together!”
We arrived at the end of the maze, facing the mouth of the tunnel. “Do we really have to go in there again?” I asked plaintively.
Tamsin turned, studying the maze behind us. “I don’t think so. I’d be very surprised if the hedges themselves aren’t a magical boundary, like the ones behind the apothecary back home.”
I remembered the way Suki had accosted me at the park, seeming to appear out of nowhere. “They are!” I exclaimed. “Suki has used them before, I think. It comes out right by Peter’s apartment.”
“How convenient for you,” said Cameron. “I, on the other hand, will have to take a Lyft home.”
Tamsin ran her hand over the bush, a look of concentration on her face. “Here!” she declared, plunging her hand into the hedge. The rest of her body followed. The bushes rustled, and she disappeared.
“Where did she go?” asked Cameron, peering into the hedge after her. “Are we supposed to do that?”
“It’s not as strange as it looks,” I said, following Tamsin into the hedge. “You might even get used to it.”
I emerged from the hedge in the park, dirty and exhausted, with twigs in my hair. Tamsin plucked one out as we stood on the sidewalk in a triangle with Cameron at the top.
“Should we come up with a secret handshake or something?” he asked. “It seems like we should have a handshake.”
“Maybe later,” said Tamsin. “I have to go to bed before I die of exhaustion.”
“That sounds nice,” I said. I was practically asleep on my feet.
“Haven’t we all learned tonight that there might not be a later?” asked Cameron. “I insist that we develop at least a rudimentary patent for our handshake before parting ways.”
We stood on the corner while Cameron walked us through an elaborate ritual that bore closer resemblance to Miss Mary Mack than an actual handshake. His Lyft pulled up to the curb and he bid us adieu.
“Are you okay getting home?” I asked Tamsin.
“I think after being frozen by an immortal time being and witnessing a witch funeral, anyone who messes with me is going to come out the worst for it,” she said. “Take care.”
“Take care.” I watched Tamsin walk up the lengthy city block and out of sight before I turned to go inside Peter’s apartment. I sincerely hoped he was sleeping. I had zero desire to explain my appearance.
“Sam!” Peter opened the door for me. My key was in the lock and I had yet to turn it. It was almost like he was waiting for me. He looked excited, till he looked at me more closely. Tamsin had gotten the twigs and leaves out of my hair, but I still looked a little suspect.
“We went to the gym,” I said. I couldn’t even come up with something imaginative. Although that might have required details that would have tripped me up. Would I ever be able to tell Peter the truth?
“In the middle of the night?” He didn’t sound dubious so much as merely curious.
“I got a slightly too-small dress to wear tomorrow and I was trying to lose a couple pounds,” I explained. This wasn’t entirely untrue. The dress I found to wear to my anniversary dinner with Peter was from Cameron’s store and had probably belonged to the incredible shrinking woman.
“People were smaller in those days,” he had explained, struggling to get the zipper up in the back. He finally gave up and arranged my hair over the still-slightly open V in the back. “Maybe you can just put a cardigan over it or something.”
Peter’s expression softened. “You didn’t need to do that,” he said.
Good thing I didn’t, I thought.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said. “I know it’s early, but...I wanted to give it to you tonight.”
I felt alarmed. “But Peter, I didn’t get you anything yet--”
He held up a hand. “It’s okay, I didn’t think you had. I almost didn’t show it to you tonight because I knew you’d feel guilty about it. But it’s kind of hard to conceal.”
Curiosity won out over my guilt. “What is it?” I asked.
“I think it would be better if I show you,” he said.
I followed Peter to the bedroom. He opened the door with a little flourish and gestured for me to go in ahead of him. I looked around the room for a box or a card, but I didn’t see anything.
“Um…” Was it invisible? I was afraid to guess and say the wrong thing like a moron. “Where is it, exactly?”
“Do you notice anything different?” he asked, resting his head on my shoulder.
I studied the room more closely. It was then that I saw it: in the corner, next to Peter’s dresser, was a hand-painted antique chest. It was white and embossed with tiny, delicate gold flowers.
“So you can keep your socks here,” he proudly declared.
I burst into tears. All the stress and pain of fighting Father Death, witnessing the death of Janice and the subsequent ceremony honoring her; the fear and anxiety of the last few months, all culminated in this moment, of seeing this nice thing that Peter had done for me. I realized I didn’t have to be afraid of losing him anymore.
“What? What is it?” he asked me anxiously. “Do you hate it?”
“No, I love it,” I said, sniffling. “I really do. Thank you so much.” I turned and hugged him.
“Does this mean you want to move in after all?” he ventured.
“Yes,” I said. “It does.”
“That’s so cute.” Tamsin dug her fork into a chocolate croissant at the café around the corner from her dorm. “Can I help you pick out new curtains and paint?”
“Why would I get new curtains and paint?” I sipped my iced coffee. Since full-fledged summer had descended, I had sworn off my large coffee, black. I no longer saw the point in investing in a practical coffee order now that I was no longer invested in maintaining the illusion that I was a practical person. I got extra coconut milk and caramel every time.
“Isn’t it like, an ugly man apartment?” she asked. “A man’s ugly apartment, I mean?”
“No, it’s not ugly,” I said. “It’s just kind of...bare.”
“Sounds like you need some throw rugs,” she said knowledgeably.
“Did they replace Cristo yet?” I asked. While he wasn’t, in fact, Father Death, he had turned out to be the con artist and fraud that Peter said he was. He was on something like his fifth identity, and still in jail.
She sighed. “The Artist Formerly Known as Cristo is going away for a long time,” she said. “We do have a new teacher, though. Kimberly Graves. She’s way more famous and important than Cristo ever was. And she’s a better teacher, too.”