Dream Meeting

“I can’t believe you,” I whispered loudly at Durian as a steady stream of unexpected and, sometimes unintelligible, guests streamed through the Victorian front door and disappeared into the foggy house. For a few seconds I held onto the anger, nodding at faces I recognized as they passed. He wasn’t looking at me, so I growled in Durian’s ear, “We weren’t asked to bring in the whole magical world.” Asked was a pretty choice word on my part; there hadn’t really been a choice in the matter at all.

Finally turning, he replied, “I’ve got this. I have everyone signing in with their names and then the leader is separated into the actual house you set up for dinner. The riff-raff are going to this cute little place I went to a rave in once; some kinda disused soda factory or something. There’s lots of room. They can just hang out and I’ll make sure they know what’s going on.” He welcomed in a small contingent of beings with pale skin, goth clothing, and pointed eye teeth. When he noticed I was glaring, he answered my unasked question, “Yes, I invited the leaders of a few choice vampire clans. They don’t travel alone, obviously.” He seemed far too pleased with himself for bringing a guest I’d had a relationship with.

As the steady stream lessened and we were left with the dribs and drabs of the magical community portalling in, I squeezed Durian’s arm until he squealed. “I get that this is your mind, your rules out here, but there will be no issues with this meeting lest I make rash decisions,” I purred, extending my claws into his imaginary flesh slightly until he tore his limb away.

“Relax. I got this,” he snapped, rubbing his arm and sauntering into the house.

Long before the final decision to have a unity meeting was made, I had considered it a bad idea. Yes, hosting people and beings from all corners of the planet and species encompassed in our magical community was important, but some consideration of the specific members and leaders could have been better taken care of.

I growled and stepped into the house, the outside dream fading away and a strange blank place came into view. Standing at a podium with a large book on it was Durian. When I entered, he chuckled and offered a strained smile. “Uh, so, hiccup. Some of the groups put all members down as leaders and all the leaders of a few different groups decided to put themselves down as such,” he explained, waving his hand over the squiggles on the page. Without my asking, though I was thinking it loudly enough for him to hear it, he replied, “Well, there are about a hundred beings in there.”

Rolling my eyes, I stepped to the large door set in a wall of puffy white cloud, and turned back to the idiot. “This was why I wanted to touch base with everyone before the meeting,” I snapped, walking through the door and finding myself crapped into a room with way too many people. I cleared my throat but it was almost inaudible in the din; one hundred people having discussions all at was too loud for a regular voice.

I made my way up to the front door and opened it, causing a large gust of wind to violently shake through the group until everyone fell silent. Snow began to drift in so I shut the door and cleared my throat. “Alright, everyone, it’s great to see you all but we need to cut down our number before dinner,” I announced using a silent amplification charm. When there was a small amount of murmuring, I cut them off and continued, “If you all make your way up the stairs, you will find rooms designated for your community groups. Please head in and discuss amongst yourselves who will speak on your behalf and have them come down to the dining room.”

Slowly, everyone filed upstairs until I was left in the old Victorian front room with Durian, a forest nymph, and my cat, Aster. The feline’s silken black fur vibrated as she rubbed against my leg. Now, I say cat. Technically, not really a cat: five fluffy tails, three eyes, and seven toes on each foot put her decidedly not in the cat category. She meowed, the sound echoing in my mind and making my stomach grumble.

Nodding at the others in the room, I explained, “She doesn’t have food, though this is a dreamworld so she doesn’t need it, I’m gonna go fill her bowl.” If you own a cat, you understand why even if she didn’t need it, I’d fill her bowl.

When I returned from the kitchen, there was a third person in the room. I would have recognized those black eyes anywhere; it was Terrance, my ex. “Did they actually vote you as their leader or did you force yourself onto them, too?” I snapped before he could say a word.

With that stupid “victim” charm, he clutched his heart and gasped, “Well, of course, they wanted me as their leader, Ollie.” Some vampires used their strength to threaten their way to the top, but Terrance did quite the opposite.

Durian was pacing in front of the stairs, staring into the gaslight at the top. “Seriously? This is such a bad plan,” he grumbled, taking a step up, then down.

As I was about to assure him that, while it may not be the best, it was the best current plan when Terrance grabbed my hand and turned me to face him. “I called you a while ago. Well, a few times. And, recently, too. But I heard nothing back from you,” he murmured with a pained smile. When I didn’t reply, he chuckled and pointed to the front door with his free hand. “Would you mind if I commandeered that dreamspace to show you what I wanted to in the, you know, real world?” he pleaded with shining eyes and a truly heroic amount of charm.

Nodding, I waved at it and the door opened on a silvery mist. Durian shot me a look and I rolled my eyes back. If this got Terrance to leave me alone, it was worth it.

We stepped through the mist and stepped onto a bright, sunshine-drenched building in the middle of a metropolis. Dropping my hand, Terrance asked, “How do you like my new skyscraper?”

With a laugh, I countered, “What use do you have for a skyscraper? Have you even been able to stand here, in the real world?”

“You mean in the daytime?” he growled, pulling his lip up to show off his fangs like he always did when he felt a little threatened. Rolling his eyes, he replied, “Well, you don’t know what I’ve got going on down there. An entire floor dedicated to, uh, me having a reflection again.” He puffed out his chest and tried to look as suave as possible.

I blinked. “A cure? You’re working on a cure?” I muttered in amazement. All these years, there’d never been one. Then, it hit me. With a sigh, I grumbled, “For Sadie?” All the years we’d been together and he’d been pushing for me to get turned so we could be together forever. All the lies he told to turn other people. And, now, he was going to cure himself for a wretch.

I nodded and stepped back into the house. For a few seconds, I considered cutting off his little dream, letting him rot between my mind and his, but then he stepped through. “Come on, Ollie, it’s not like there was the chance before, but now,” he pleaded.

“This isn’t a personal meeting, Terrance, it’s an important one,” I snapped, turning to Durian. “Anyone else come down yet?” I asked with a little more snap than I meant.

Nodding, he replied, “Everyone has made their decisions and the council arrived. You were out there a long time.” He made a waving motion at the second floor and I nodded.

With a single wave, the second floor disappeared and everyone was deposited into Durian’s dreamworld. I followed him into the dining room and stood in the corner as Terrance took his seat.

Nat, who was head of the witch’s council, stood up and announced, “So begin the first of many unity meetings. Everyone has agreed to the terms and we can begin with a statement from each leader, then a short break for snacks.” With a dagger glance at me, she gestured to the nymph to her right.

---

Opening statements turned into nearly an hour of general bitching. The one I thought made a good first impression was the forest nymph; she spoke in flowers, explaining that they were having an issue with a construction site overstepping the bordering forest. Finally, we reached the lycanthrope, a woman I’d known for nearly two centuries. For a start, she talked about how she’d had two pups lately born with blue moon disease and how that was an issue for everyone. Technically, yes, the disease caused the wolves to have far less control of their urges, but there wasn’t a community-led solution.

With her statement taken, Nat stood again and dismissed the group. Everyone moved into the other room for snacks while Nat dropped her head on the table and groaned. “Why did no one put any of this in their submissions to the agenda?” she asked me as I took a seat beside her.

“Well, I think partly because everyone thought they’d get a turn to speak, not just one from each community,” I replied quietly. Through the door, I could see Durian chatting jovially with a few of the naturals. Clearing my throat, I suggested, “Next time, everyone should really have meetings of their own before bringing their community concerns forward instead of having this mess. Maybe a week in advance, then a real schedule could be crafted.”

Nodding at the table, she replied, “You’re in charge. I thought Durian could handle it, since he can’t do anything else, but clearly, he’s useless.”

I chuckled and replied, “Actually, I think you should send him to the other meetings. Then he can prepare them to speak about their concerns. He can be a diplomat; he’s actually very good at speaking to people. People like him.” I envied that. No matter how much planning or thought I put into a social endeavour, it was so much work just for people to tolerate being around me. You couldn’t think yourself out of having zero charisma. As I was about to explain that I was more of a behind-the-scenes kind of person when the front door swung open and a cloud of snow swept into the room.

Everyone was shivering and staring as the snow converged into a large furry creature. Growling deeply, it motioned wildly, causing everyone to scatter. It shook and coughed before grumbling and making a choking motion. Finally, it chuckled, “Sorry, snowball in my throat. Uh, am I late?”

Beside me, Nat groaned and whispered, “My guess is that one told the yetis what time the meeting was at in their time. They’re usually very punctual.”

Invisibility

            The dorm was quiet when I woke up; not a soul seemed to be awake, which was bullshit because there were always people up at every time of the night. Sitting up, I checked the clock and groaned when three-am shone through my eyeballs. With a yawn, I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if my roommate was awake. We’d been dating for a few months and sometimes we went on coffee dates when we both couldn’t sleep. When I looked over, she was snoring, meaning she was asleep.

            I shut my eyes for a few minutes before something changed. Their air felt heavier in the room and light was streaming in from the window. When I sat up and opened my eyes this time, people were wandering outside with candles and lit sticks. Ducking when the closest ones glanced at me, I sucked in a breath and calmed myself. My hands were transparent and none of them would know I was up, so I left my bed and leaned over Maria.

            “Mar?” I whispered, glancing at the people milling around outside to see if they could hear me. When Maria didn’t stir, I repeated a little louder.

            This time, she mumbled, still half-asleep, “Mmm, wanna get in? Water’s warm.”

            Groaning, I whispered, “Mar, you have to get up quietly because there’s a mob with torches outside.” Her eyes opened wide, and she looked through me.

            “Ingrid? If you’re there, what do I do?” she asked to the empty air in front of her.

            “Uh, they noticed when I moved so maybe if you try making no sudden moves,” I suggested. Stepping out of the way as she began to levitate off the bed, I grabbed her hand, so she’d know where I was. Outside, no one looked our way as Maria floated to the door. I slowly pulled the door open, and she moved out into the hall. When I shut the door behind us, she dropped to the ground and I materialized again.

            Chuckling, she whispered, “We probably should have brought some real clothes.” Both of us were in our nightgowns, but it could have been worse. She reached up to kiss me and I held her for a minute.

            “I think I know what’s going on with this insanity,” I started as we both peered down the darkened hallway, “You remember a couple of months ago when that woman came through with that group. Shit, I just can’t remember what it was called. Anyway, we all thought she was creepy?” Maria considered what I was saying for a moment, eyes narrowed, before she remembered what I was talking about and nodded emphatically. “Well, though I can’t remember exactly what they were calling themselves, their logo was pretty distinct, and I remember seeing it somewhere,” I continued as we started down the hallway toward the stairs.

            Grabbing my hand when we hit the steps and headed towards the roof, Maria asked, “But you don’t remember exactly where you saw it, right?” It wasn’t bitchy, exactly, but it was bordering.

            “Uh, actually, I don’t remember what it was on, but I remember where I saw it,” I exclaimed, stopping mid-stride so our hands broke apart. Tilting my head, I sighed, “You know the theatre beside the multi-purpose atrium?”

            “There’s a play on tonight, isn’t there?” Maria replied, thinking. She laughed out loud and chuckled, “The play would be long-over. They aren’t permitted after ten at night and it’s now after three in the morning.” When she leaned against the wall with her head to one side, the light from the hallway hit her eyes to turn them to emeralds.

            Shaking my head to stop admiring my girlfriend, I sprinted back down to the second floor and headed for a window. Outside, the students brandishing fire were still milling about like a human barrier; they were trapping us here and away from the theatre. I turned back to Maria and suggested, “What if you go to the roof and float away from the building while I turn invisible and just walk right through the wall?”

            After a few seconds, she nodded, and we parted ways with a lingering kiss. When I reached the first floor again, I considered grabbing my phone from my room, but the only one I’d be texting was going to be with me again in a few minutes anyway. Hurrying to the front doors, I calmed myself and felt the invisibility take over. I pushed the doors open and the closest students stared at me, or, rather, through me. I doubted whether I’d ever get used to people looking through me; it made me shiver.

            Striding through them, I continued until I was standing in the gravel walkway in front of the atrium. I became visible again and waited until Maria’s fingers intertwined with mine before heading through the doors. When we crossed the deserted atrium, we could hear a commotion coming from the theatre. Hanging in the lit frame outside the doors were posters for the latest play; they each had the woman’s logo in the upper corner. The time listed just said that ticketholders would be notified.

            “I need you to hide, Mar,” I pleaded, holding her hands as we stood outside the room. “Please,” I whispered in her ear. Holding me so tightly I thought she might engulf me, we suddenly parted, and she disappeared into the shadows.

            I took a breath and went invisible before slipping through the door. There weren’t that many people in the audience, but the woman was sitting in the middle watching the stage.

            It was a strange scene, the stage. The whole thing was a sort of cavern with stone-like material on every surface and a path through the middle. Standing at center stage was a large pillar that hid half of the stage from either side of the audience; I couldn’t figure out why that would be good. Students were standing in little clusters all over the stage in grey clothing and makeup, so they faded into the façade.

            Wandering right to the stage and stepping up to see if there were any hidden passages or notes carved into the stone, I stepped between stationary actors as they spoke words I couldn’t understand. When I reached the other side, I stepped down and sat in the third row away from any other ticketholders. No one noticed me.

            After ten minutes or so, the play ended as the lights came up and the audience was revealed. A good half of them vacated, chatting vacantly, while the others remained in their seats in silence. With all the random people gone, the woman stood up and congratulated the cast; most of them looked pleased with the commendation, while some were clearly confused.

            “Oh, this is just fantastic. You’ve done the enchantment perfectly; I’m told there’s a mob of students out there with torches,” she explained enthusiastically. Turning to the people around her, who I now realized were wearing armour, she commanded, “Make sure that all the soldiers have the proper weapons. Torches are good, but I’d prefer swords or guns; messier and more casualties.” As they headed out, she glanced in my direction and I could have sworn she looked at me, not just through me. She cocked her head and her lip quivered.

“Mason!” she shouted at one of the men. When he returned to her side, she whispered something in his ear, and he strode from the room without a word. After that, she turned back to the cast and began speaking about plans.

I was about to leave, seeing no real reason to stick around since I couldn’t take on that many people at once when the door behind me opened and Mason grabbed me from behind. Before I knew what was happening, the woman was standing above me; I couldn’t concentrate enough on the transparency, so it faltered.

“Hmmm, what to do with you,” she mused, pacing a few steps in front of me as I struggled. Suddenly, she lunged, I felt a snap, and darkness consumed me.

Ten Words

            “Ten words? Seriously?” she sneered as he smiled at her. Beside her, two girlfriends were equally incredulous; that was usually the reaction he got, and I would swear he loved it.

            Chuckling maliciously, he purred, “Ten little words.”

            One of the friends stepped forward, teetering in three-inch heels, and dared, “Try it on me.” Around her, the other girls chattered excitedly and egged her on.

            He grinned, exposing his fangs, which didn’t seem to concern them, and replied, “Alright. But let’s just go somewhere a little more private.” As he looked around for a secluded spot, which he probably already had planned out, the girls tittered away. “How about just in the dark over there, sweetheart?” he suggested, holding his hand out to her. From the way he was making eye contact now, he was already starting to work his magic.

            Concern was in her eyes as she took his hand and let him lead her down the way and into the darkness of the alley. Turning to me, the first girl asked, “Is he for real?”

            “I mean, he does seriously get people to fall in love with him in ten words,” I replied with a shrug. Technically, it wasn’t love, but most regular humans weren’t equipped to understand what it really was.

            After a few seconds, he returned with the woman in tow. She had a dreamy look in her eyes now and I could see a few drops of blood on her neon blouse. “So, anyone else want a go?” he purred. Carefully, he led his new human around so she was standing with her friends again, staring at him as though she would do anything for him; which, she would.

            “What did he do to you, Sophia?” the first woman asked as she shook her friend’s arm gently.

            Turning, she murmured, “Oh, he just made me feel so special. He’s amazing and I think I love him.” She was reaching towards him.

            “I think that’s our cue to go,” I muttered, grabbing the arm of his shirt and pulling him away from the women before we had an issue. When we were out of earshot, I snapped, “You’re messy tonight, and distracted. You were about to murder all three of them.” I was still gripping the cuff of his shirt as we hurried between throngs of people heading into the club.

            “Maybe, I mean, I wouldn’t have,” he muttered, stumbling along like a human.

            “You left blood on that girl’s shirt,” I whispered as we got to the end of the line and turned a corner. This street was practically deserted so I let go and took a few paces away from him. “What is wrong with you tonight?” I snapped, taking a few calming breaths. As an empath, I could feel his deceit before he said it, so he was usually careful around me.

            Groaning, he replied, “This was Rebecca’s Deathday. I miss her.”

            Normally I would have pointed out, in a joking way, that he was the reason she was gone, but this wasn’t the time for jokes. “I know, honey, but you really need to hold it together,” I tried, not knowing how else to help. If he hadn’t found me, it probably would be dead by now; his emotions were still in turmoil and I was able to help a bit. To be fair, though, he saved my life, so I guess we were even.

            “How do people do this?” he asked as I searched my brain for advice.

            Shaking my head, I replied, “I don’t know. You probably know more about vampires than I do since you were dating one.” I mean, she turned him, but that wouldn’t negate the knowledge he got from her.

            “But they never talked about how hellish it is to outlive people and kill people,” he sighed, dejected.

Archer Mansion

            “Seriously, guys,” I moaned as the van stopped outside the enormous mansion. When the headlights shut off, the whole street went dark; even the houses on the other side of the street were still and cold. I stared into the upper windows of the dilapidated house, willing something to appear to terrify everyone before we reached the gate. In the quiet, I added, “Seriously, this is such a bad idea. I mean, do we even know if the place is vacant?” Unbeknownst to them, I knew what resided in behind the peeling door and knew they were biting off way more than they could chew.

            Sergei, who’d been the brains behind this excursion, chuckled deeply and snapped, “It hasn’t been lived in for decades. How could someone be in there without electricity or water or anything?” Turning in the front seat to eye those of us in the back, he passed out flashlights. “The only things in there are spirits. First one to catch evidence gets to sit in the car next time,” he growled.

            With that, everyone vacated the van and gathered on the sidewalk outside the gate. Dean kept flicking his flashlight on and off, pointing it into the woods. Beside him, his girlfriend, Jasmine, was trying to get a good selfie in the dark but kept frowning at herself. Struggling to lock the van, despite there being literally no reason to do that, Sergei was whispering with Evan; I wanted to know what they were saying because this whole situation smelled off.

            “Alright, let’s allow Kat the first steps on the property,” Evan laughed as they came around to the front of the van. He leaned on the door and eyed me when I didn’t move. In a stalemate, he lit up a cigarette and asked, “Unless, of course, you’re too scared?”

            I honestly considered telling him to fuck off, but there wasn’t much point; they were all gonna go into the house whether I was there or not. At least this way I may be able to protect them. Sucking in a deep breath and adjusting my purse on my shoulder, I gently touched the iron gate. I gave it a light shove and it squealed open, biting into the uneven paving stones in the yard. Putting one booted foot in front of the other, I made my way up the gentle slope and stood a step away from the crooked porch.

            When I turned, everyone was staring wide-eyed and pale-faced. “So, uh, do you see, uh, see anything?” stammered Sergei, showing the first signs of true terror.

            Chuckling, I did a quick spin around and replied, “Uh, no. It just seems like a creepy-ass house that’s probably full of mould.” I stepped on the deck boards in the right places so I wouldn’t fall through and leaned carefully against the door; that door was solid oak and was likely the most stable piece of material in the entire structure.

            Evan suddenly pointed at one of the top windows and shouted, “I just saw something move across there! There’s something in the house!”

            Hoping that meant they were too scared to go in, I peered up through the hole in the porch roof and squinted. If it was a ghost, they were just nervously shifting around. When I looked back, everyone was walking up the yard, flashlights fluttering around the house and surrounding forest.

            I sighed and turned to the door. “Quod aperire ianuam,” I whispered, touching the metal handle until it sparked and unlocked.

            “Wow! What happened with the door?” Dean asked, appearing just behind me and peering around. When I didn’t reply, he explained, “There was a, like, light coming from there and it thunked.” He was excitedly looking at me for an answer.

            Turning to show my hands, I turned my flashlight on and off. “I was just trying to see the lock to try and jimmy it open. Must have hit the button twice,” I murmured, turning the door handle.

            An icy draft came through the open door and the darkness sucked at the bars of light cast by the flashlights. Creaking noises came from the floor above and something fell in a back room; that was exactly what you could expect from ghosts that knew you were coming.

            “I’m in first,” Sergei announced, pushing past everyone and turning his light on. He stepped through the doorway and checked to the left, where I wanted them to avoid. Laughing, he stalked forward and exclaimed, “Wow! There’s a bunch of séance stuff in here!” Walking right through the ritual circle chalked on the floor without noticing, he started looking through the items stacked on a pair of desks.

            Everyone else pushed past me to look at the occult stuff; Jasmine was gripping Dean’s arm and squealed as they shuffled around the edge of the room. When Evan got to the circle, he bent down to touch the symbols and was about to brush the chalk aside when I cleared my throat.

            “Maybe don’t break the circle,” I suggested, shoving him as I passed and examined the corner bookcase; I hoped my looking would deter anyone else from checking it too carefully.

            Snickering, but heeding my warning, Evan joined the others at the desks. “Since when are you an expert in séances?” he asked, opening jars and smelling their contents. When his nose crinkled in disgust for the third time, he moved on to the books.

            I considered my response very carefully before muttering, “Didn’t you go through an occult phase in your teen years? This is ritual stuff, not for summoning spirits.” In the group’s silence, I took the opportunity to change the subject, “So, do any of you actually believe in ghosts? The afterlife or whatever?” You didn’t have to believe in something to do what we were doing, but I was curious.

            “Uh, no,” Sergei replied quickly as he pawed through a newer ritual book. Sensing all eyes on him, he clarified, “I mean, not really. If they were real, we’d be overrun with them.”

            “Yeah, I totally believe in spirits. When my cousin overdosed, I swear I saw his spirit and he uh,” Jasmine replied as tears suddenly welled in her eyes, “He uh, he gave me a peace sign when he left. It was really moving.” Grabbing Dean, she sobbed into his shoulder as he turned to mouth the word no and shook his head.

            I turned to Evan, who still seemed a little uncertain about me after the circle situation, and he chuckled, “Sure. I mean, we don’t know what’s out there, right? What about you, Kat?”

            Plucking a heavy book from the shelf, I started to page through it absentmindedly. “Yeah, I do believe in ghosts. But they’re just people who’ve passed on and had unfinished business; just normal people who need some help and are stuck in limbo,” I growled. When I knew Sergei was paying attention, I added, “They aren’t here just to entertain you or anyone else.” Since I wasn’t going to physically stop them from doing anything negative, I announced, “I’m gonna check up the second floor where you saw that spirit floating past the window.”

            As I turned to leave, Dean teased, “Do you need someone to come with you? To protect you?”

            “Yeah, ‘cause you can protect anyone from anything,” I snapped, taking the stairs two at a time and slipping into the back bedroom.

            Pacing at the window was the faint outline of a woman, tears welling in her eyes. “What are people doing here?” she shrieked, turning to glower at me.

            I nodded and replied, “I know, I know. I didn’t realize this was the haunted house they wanted to go to until we headed up this way.” Scratching my head as I started to pace, I continued, “Essie, I am trying to get rid of them, but I also don’t want them to know anything about this place or you.” She was staring at me like I’d grown another head. “Where’s Andrew?” I asked, the beginnings of a plan forming in my head.

            “Attic, last I checked,” she murmured, turning back to look out into the forest. With a sigh, she added, “It’s just the two of us left in here. Everyone else is hiding out there because of the big, bad humans poking around.” Melancholy was a ghost’s best emotion, but Essie tended to milk it a little too much.

            I checked to make sure no one was following me, not that we’d miss hearing the stairs creak, and explained, “I’m gonna get rid of them. Just tell Andrew to meet me in the ritual room when I give the signal, okay?”

As I made to leave, Essie asked, “Why should he go there? And why not me?”

I smiled sadly at her and replied, “I’m gonna summon a ghost for the people downstairs. Hopefully, that’ll get rid of them fast. Tell him to be scary, okay? Scary is the goal.” When she continued to stare, I groaned. “Es, you’re just not exactly terrifying; you’re just a nice, normal person,” I sighed. Before she could say anything else, I tiptoed into the room Andrew once occupied and grabbed a pair of cufflinks; I didn’t even know if they were his, not that it mattered with a faux séance.

When I got back to the ritual room, Sergei was pouring over a small pile of worn papers with everyone peering over his shoulder. “Hi Kat,” he purred as I stopped at the edge of the circle. “What was your full name, again?” he asked purposefully.

I knew where he was going, but there was nothing I could do to stop him from understanding the truth. With a heavy sigh, I replied, “Archer. Katrina Archer.”

“Huh, that’s weird. A Katrina Archer owns this place. You own this place,” he stated as he set the deeds back on the desk and tilted his head with a crazed smile.

Nodding, I declared, “Yes. I do own this house. I’ve been trying to fix it up, but the structure is too unsafe to bring anyone in.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie about the structure and that I couldn’t have anyone come in, but that wasn’t, strictly, the reason I wasn’t fixing it. With a sigh, I slipped the cufflinks into my pocket as I wouldn’t be needing them.

“So, this, all this ritual stuff is yours?” he nudged, stepping into the middle of the circle and glaring across at me.

“Oh, no, that was here before I inherited the place,” I replied with a smile, “And I’ve been too scared to move any of it until I can have, like, a priest or something come through to check it out.” That didn’t dispel Sergei’s suspicion, so I continued, “I’ve taken a look at some of the books there and these drawings on the floor are some kind of protection. I don’t want to bring hell to earth or anything so I’m not gonna break the circle or anything until I know it won’t cause issues.”

Dean was glancing sideways at Evan with a look of terror on his face; Jasmine was standing between the two and might have not blinked the entire time I’d been in the ritual room.

“You just have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he snapped, taking a few steps forward again. It wasn’t until that moment that I noticed the glint of one of my knives in his hand. When he took a further step, he broke the chalk circle and grinned at me.

Breathing calmly, I bit my lip and growled, “Alright, Sergei, I’m done playing nice. Get out of my house. Now.” Though anger was rushing to my cheeks and hands, I fought to remain outwardly serene.

He laughed loudly and brandished the knife as he looked back at our friends. “Get out or what?” he spat.

“Get out now or I’ll make you,” I snarled, balling my hands into fists to keep some semblance of control of my emotions. Sergei lurched forward, and I shrieked, “Adolebitque metallum!”

Dropping the blade and holding his hand as the metal burned his skin, he shouted, “You witch!”

“Expergiscimini ignis,” I murmured, and the room was suddenly alight with dozens of candles.

Behind Sergei, Evan stepped forward and whispered, “Look, man, let’s just go.”

“No, she can’t get away with this,” he snapped back at him.

Rolling my eyes, I yelled, “Andrew, I could use your help!” From the basement came a rumbling, accompanied by a few loud bangs and the shattering of glass. As Andrew came up the stairs, he growled and roared inhumanly. Crashing through the wall, he yelled with blood dripping from his head and abdomen, just like when he tried to scare me away.

Jasmine screamed and streaked out the door, followed by Dean and Evan. When Sergei was alone, Andrew came to stand beside me and whispered, “Should I do something to him?”

I took a step toward the statue and murmured, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering us again.” Stooping to pick up the blade from his feet, I spun it in my hand. “If you don’t leave now, I will find a use for your blood,” I whispered in his ear.

That snapped him out of frozen terror, and he screamed out the door, down the walk, and down the street. I watched him go, leaning on the doorframe, with Andrew. After a few minutes, the ghosts hiding in the forest started to return to the house. Some stopped to check out the van permanently parked in front of the mansion.

Garnet

“Red,” I stated, feeling my chest tighten as I stared at the tiny ruby speck in the crystal ball. I’m sure it was just my being nervous in the dim, heavily-perfumed room at the back of the store, but my skin started to crawl and I rubbed my arms.

Grinning toothily, the fortune teller, who’d been staring into the orb for several minutes making the odd humming sound, exclaimed, “Ah, yes, I see it now! The garnet trail floating along through the vast darkness until it reaches the pinnacle and sees the light!” Her arms were floundering, and her eyes were wide as she stood up from the uncomfortable metal chair. “There, when the light is revealed, so too will your true powers!” she shouted and deflated like a punctured beach ball. Retaking her seat, she cleared her throat and took a swig from something in a glass jar behind her; I could swear it was alcohol, from the smell, but my nostrils were overwhelmed. “That’ll be twenty-two dollars, sweetie,” she cackled, still trying to clear her throat.

I chuckled and retorted, “Seriously? That’s it? You didn’t tell me anything useful. What does a trail have to do with things? How do I know when I reach the pinnacle of darkness? And what is my true power?” Crossing my arms, I glared at the woman as she took another gulp from the bottle.

“Oh, my dear, I don’t know you well enough to determine specifics, only vague understandings about the universe interacting with you,” she explained in a suspiciously normal voice. When I made no move to pay her, she snapped, “I delivered a service, whether it met your expectations or not, dear.” Still, I didn’t move. “Fine, how about a discount, then? Fifteen and you buy a garnet out in the shop, hmm?” she coaxed.

Rolling my eyes, I took out the money and slammed it on the table as I left the tiny back room.

Out in the main store, a woman screeched and asked excitedly, “So? What did she say? I bet it was good. Was it good?” My best friend, Rosie, was really into all this crystal stuff, but I knew it was a load of bull; seeing that fortune teller was the only real proof I needed.

“Oh, she thinks I have powers and I need a garnet for something,” I murmured, trying to find where they kept the cheap garnets. I didn’t believe any of this stupid stuff, but I knew better than to break my word. When I reached a rusted necklace tree, one of the pendants caught my eye. Pulling it down, I examined the bright red gemstone in the center; a garnet. Around the perfectly cut stone were spirals of metal that looked almost like waves. It was way more than I’d been planning on spending, but it was stunning, and I hadn’t bought a nice necklace in a long time.

When we walked out, my pendant hanging low around my neck, Rosie was chattering away about how amazing the store was. I was just trying not to scold her for ever stepping foot in that place; I think I did a pretty good job. Stepping down onto the street, we started to cross when a car came screaming around a corner and was on top of us before we could step away, headlights blinding us.

I squeezed my eyes shut and held my hands out in the vain hope that they would stop the car from hitting us. The deafening sound of the car crashing rang through my mind and it took a few seconds for me to realize I could still feel my toes. From the non-pain and fact that I was still standing, I assumed the car had swerved and crashed into a car on the side of the road. Taking a breath, I opened my eyes and saw the car crumped around my hands.

The engine was smoking and part of the driver’s side had collapsed, while the entire passenger’s seat, which was empty, had completely crunched together. Staring at me from behind the wheel, the driver’s blood-covered face was incredulous. I turned my head and found Rosie lying on her back on the ground, also staring at me with shock in her eyes.

“Stella? Are you okay?” she asked, struggling to her feet, entirely unharmed.

Nodding, I replied, “I’m fine. You?” When she nodded back, I dropped my hands and stepped away from the ruined car. Shaking slightly, I looked up at the street sign to avoid the driver’s eye; the street the car reached was Pinnacle. “I guess the headlights were the light I would see,” I mumbled as Rosie and I sat down on the side of the road.

“Do you have powers now?” she asked quietly as people began to swarm the car to aid the driver.

I shrugged my shoulders, “I don’t know.”

Line by Line

I read through the spell a dozen times, committing it to memory over and over; line by line. Each step required specific timing and ingredients to go with the line of the incantation. If it hadn’t been important, I never would have attempted a spell this complicated, at least not now.

Shutting my eyes, I went over the steps again without looking at the book. And then I went through it again. And then again.

By the time I was finally standing at the edge of the circle, I could have recited the spell in my drunk and asleep. It was finally time. Sucking in a breath and counting the number of bowls on the alter one last time, I stepped across the line and started the ritual.

Faux Milo

            Faux Milo got up and sat on his pillow preening his tail with slow, rhythmic motions while staring at me. Growling at the cat, I got up and checked the temperature of the water and returned to my seat. “Still a few minutes,” I called to the other room as I reread the spell we were going to try a few more times in my head. By the time we got around to it, I was going to have the whole thing committed to memory.

            Liza came back in and checked the water before clearing her throat and announcing, “It’s ready. I guess we’re gonna go for it.” After so much anticipation, actually performing the spell on the adorable grey cat was nerve-wracking.

            Quickly, we added ingredients while the water was the right temperature and said the spell. Then, it was time for the cat to be involved. I poured the liquid into a dish and set it in front of the cat, who’d stopped grooming to watch us mixing. According to the book, he needed to drink at least a fifth of the liquid for the spell to work so we took turns forcing Faux Milo to drink the sweet water.

            When I woke up the next morning, having slept for a few hours after my last turn, there was a stunning onyx cat sitting on the pillow where the grey had been. He glared at me as though he realized we’d changed the colour of his coat.

Now, we just had to hope our mother wasn’t too attached to his personality.

Blurred Past

            “It’s strange,” she murmured, eyes closed and reaching out for something I couldn’t see, “that there is literally nothing in your past to see.” Lady Miranda’s eyebrows knit together in the middle as she continued to stare off into some void behind her lids. With a sigh, she opened her eyes and stated, “It’s all blurred. Like you’re not supposed to see any of it or something.” Drumming her long nails on the table between us, she turned one hand over and offered it to me.

            I’d been sitting in Lady Miranda’s booth for nearly half an hour and she hadn’t been able to tell me anything at all; oddly, she was getting very frustrated about that. When I reached over, expecting her to gasp dramatically and state that she’d been mistaken for the last half hour, she shut her eyes and continued the same grumbling from before.

            “Maybe I’m a brand-new soul and there is nothing to see,” I suggested, wondering what my friend would think when I finally showed up at the Ferris wheel. In my youth, I had gone through an occult phase and I knew a bit of the lingo; well, enough to fake my way through all of ten seconds of conversation. My hand was starting to sweat but I couldn’t pull away from the iron grip of Lady Miranda.

            Growling lightly, she muttered, “No, but you’re not. You feel like a very old soul so there should be lots to choose from. Ugh!” She finally looked up and dropped my hand on the tiny table. “Sorry, my dear, but your soul’s past is just too blurred for me to help,” she stated.

            When I got up, she grabbed my wrist and purred, “Be careful; I suspect there is a very good reason you can’t know your past.”

Magic Beans

            I stared at the tiny coffee bean, willing it to grow. Obviously, it didn’t. Perhaps I was just putting too much pressure on it, or myself. For the last few hours, I’d been bouncing between a grimoire website and two different herbal books to no avail. The dining table was almost empty, still.

            “How’s your bean doing, Alice?” I asked, turning around to look at her. The counter in the kitchen was strewn with books on spells and crystals and gardening bibles. In the very center of the mess, a tiny coffee bean sat alone. Plucking my coffee bean off the table and holding it in front of my eyes, I glared.

            Alice chuckled and replied, “Well, I’ve narrowed down the reasons these aren’t growing. Either they’re too old, or we don’t have any real magic.” Looking up, she added, “I’m hoping it’s just that these beans are old.”

            This wasn’t the first session we’d had in an attempt to bring forward some latent magical ability, not even close. I shook my head and sighed, “Maybe I’ll try it with another bean.” Heading to the fridge, I continued, “We were trying coffee beans because they give us energy, but that’s only once they’ve been steeped; perhaps we’ll have better luck with, like, something that’s already been growing?” Searching intently, I had a brainwave and dashed to the window and picked up two glass jars filled with water.

            Suspended with three toothpicks were large, brown avocado pits. I placed them carefully on the counter and glared at the one that hadn’t even begun to crack; for a while now, I had considered it dead, anyway, so this was perhaps not the best option. I left the cracked one on the counter and took the potentially defective one back to my ‘station’ with a sigh.

            I found the spell I thought would work and, using warm water and a small candle, I performed the incantation. Nothing happened.

            Glancing at a clock for the first time in hours, I exclaimed, “It’s almost two in the morning!” Alice looked up from her own spell work and yawned. “Bedtime,” I groaned, rubbing my eyes and heading for the main bedroom. After a few minutes, I heard the door shut in the spare room before I fell asleep, suddenly utterly exhausted.

            When I got up, I was surprised to find that I’d slept in my clothes. I mean, not surprised, surprised, but I didn’t remember I hadn’t changed. Trudging out to the kitchen to turn on the coffee maker, I grabbed the beans from the tables and started the process of waking up. I growled at the enormous amount of books and computers and crystals strewn across my naturally-cleanly kitchen.

            I began to shift piles to the table so I could sort through what was who’s when I noticed it. The tiny little avocado pit was now a root winding around the jar I’d put it in! My spell had caused it to grow overnight into a vine. Glancing over at Alice’s I noticed hers was the same; just a tiny thread of plan starting to emerge from the crack in the shell. For a minute, I thought about not showing Alice, but she was going to be ecstatic. And perhaps she just wasn’t using the right spell.

            I hoped she just needed a better spell.

Stolen Earth pt1

I sat on the bench I sat on every second Monday of the month to recharge my social energy bars and people-watch for writing inspiration. On this particular Monday, I was staring down at my phone with a frown furrowing my eyebrows and pulling the corners of my lips downward; the email I was rereading for the eighteenth time was short and abstract. It wasn’t exactly the kind of thing I usually put much stock into, but this time I couldn’t really help it.

As I got to the bottom of the email once again, I murmured, “So, what is this amazing feat of magic you are purported to have completed?” I turned the screen off and looked up at the man who’d appeared on the next bench over, his svelte frame emaciated in the morning light.

“Why would I tell you when I could show you?” countered the magician as he got to his feet and smoothed out his coattails. For a moment I was going to tell him to fuck himself, as was my long-running policy with anyone from Oclumia Unlimited, but there was really no harm in finding out what the bastard had been up to. Even if this was his big chance to get me out of the picture, at least I’d lived a reasonably good life.

Rolling my eyes, I followed him as he sauntered down the way, an unusual spring in his step and the faintest sound of show tunes coming from his lips. From behind, I could really see how rundown his physical body was getting; he’d, according to the writings of his cult anyway, never put much weight on our worldly possessions. It was starting to really show. I hurried a little to be just a step behind him and asked, “What’s with all the secrecy and vague emails? You were never one to enjoy suspense.” What I spoke was the truth and he knew it.

After a minute or so of silence as we headed east along increasingly busier sidewalks, he suddenly stopped and looked me right in the eye. “This thing that I’ve done was at the behest and with the power of the Great Powers in the Sky, for your information,” he replied snobbily, as though it should have been obvious. In the past, the creator of the Oclumia group hadn’t been as outwardly crazy. Perhaps they tended to do things that, from the outside, looked absolutely insane, but he was relatively even-keeled, personally. The man before me had a tinge of insanity in his eye and a quiver to his lips that solidified my concerns.

“Richard, I know we’ve had our differences on these topics since just before my expulsion, but you don’t seem yourself,” I murmured as he tugged at the front of his suit jacket. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I recited his words to him, “’Melody. You must see what I’ve been working on for the Powers in the Sky. He finally let me know why Oclumia exists. Rich.’” A few people around us had paused to stare at us, but I was ignoring them; I had been dealing with the crazy fallout for years and this was just another step, another torment he’d created to discredit me.

Sniffing, he turned abruptly and continued on down the street until he reached an alley and disappeared into the shadows. I seriously considered turning back and getting back into my own lecture planning; I should have done that, easily. When I left his magic troupe, I swore I wouldn’t get sucked back in.

As I reached the alley, I searched the walls for a doorway or another one of their tricks. Maybe mirrors this time, just like when we had no money, and no one knew our names. For a few minutes, I scoured the walls and grates for an escape before giving up and shouting, “Richard!” to the buildings.

“Oh, Melody, dear,” he replied, now standing on the roof of a four-storey apartment building to the right. He grinned down at me, his false gold teeth glinting in the sunlight where he stood. Waving his hand, he called down, “I want you to jump at least a foot high when I say so. Alright?” In the years we worked together on using props and tricks to make magic seem real, I had been on the other end of these kinds of scenes hundreds of times; it was a strange position to be in.

Taking a deep breath, I jumped straight up, hugged my knees, and crashed down onto the ground, which now felt at least an inch or two higher than it had been. There was a strange hollow sound when I hit, followed almost immediately by the faintest whirring from somewhere within the building, and then I was rising up into the air, supported by nothing.

When the lift, which I suspected was plexiglass due to the sound and wavering of the material, reached just above the second level fire escape, it stopped with a few further clicks and thunks. Before it had the chance to drop, I stepped off and began to climb up the metal rungs to the roof. I had been on enough “sets” to know that sometimes Rich’s more ambitious projects fell apart as soon as you tested them; usually, it was when you were attempting to present or pull something off.

“My original plan was to have it bring you all the way up, but there were some issues getting the apartment tenants to sign off on the use and destruction of the exterior walls for a substantial amount of time,” Richard explained as I reached the top and got the full view of the bay. I walked across slowly, feeling my way along to make sure there wasn’t a trap door or some kind of wall anywhere. Like the pensive old man he was, Rich continued to muse, “Plus, it was only for your benefit; so you could see what a little bit of financial stability has done to the Oclumia since you left. Just imagine what you could have accomplished in this world had you remained.”

When I finally reached the far side and leaned on the ledge, admiring the stunning view presented to me, I retorted, “You kicked me out, remember? Besides, all that was paid for by people who think you have actual magic and can heal them.” Maybe once I could have stood by while he worked his “magic” but not now.

I think he turned to me, but I pretended to be too interested in the view to look him in the eye. “If you’d just gone along with scamming that school of preppy idiots, you’d have a part of this kingdom,” he replied with a hint of melancholy.

“Okay, Rich, what the hell did you want to show me?” I asked, turning on him. This close, I could see that his eyes had dulled and lined were etched along his cheeks.

Sniffing, he gestured to the view and posed, “Notice anything missing, my dear?”

I looked where he was pointing and searched the bay and surrounding buildings for something. Glass shone and beaches blistered and the water lapped at the docks; everything seemed pretty normal. All the halls and historic buildings I could see from here looked pastel and the hotels were shockingly vibrant reminders that tourists were our stock and trade. “Okay, I give up,” I replied, still searching, “What is missing?” This was usually the moment in the plan where the unwitting victim is brought into the loop about it all being magic and that they, too, could buy a piece of the experience.

Richard clapped excitedly and pointed to the mountain park on the far side of downtown, where I could now make out flashing lights. Holding my shoulder, he explained, “Isn’t there meant to be a big-ass planet earth sitting just above-”

“-Hotel Zed by the bluff,” I continued in disbelief. Now, the term “big-ass” didn’t really describe the replica earth that usually sat on top of the bluffs. It was about five storeys tall, had correct geography, and was made mainly of steel and some cement; it was a designated national landmark. When I found my voice again, I stammered, “Did you mean to tell me that you destroyed a three-million-dollar landmark for attention? ‘Cause I think that’s not the kind of attention you want from the government.”

Richard, still looking like the crazy loon he apparently was, put his arm on my shoulder and replied, smooth as a cucumber, “I didn’t destroy it; I moved it, Mel. The Powers in the Sky wanted me to move it using magic, so I did.”

After a moment’s contemplation, I decided to just start with the basic framework of my understanding. “Richard, there is no magic, remember? If you tried to move that pile of cement and metal, something similar to Eden might have happened, right?” I suggested calmly. A month before my expulsion, we had been attempting to move an entire senior’s apartment facility to see how many of them we could have committed in one week. When the seismologists came in to explain why Richard’s plan wouldn’t work, he had to do it just to show them; fifty-three people died when the building fell apart several feet in the air and crashed down to the ground.

Spinning me around, his eyes glistening with insanity, he seethed, “I’ll show you the scene of the disappearance and then you can see where I put it!” With that, he sprinted back to the fire escape and headed down.

“Where he put it?” I murmured as I followed, still dumbfounded.

TO BE CONTINUED