Witch out of Water

by Aiden James

  “Holy frigging crap!” I gasped in disbelief.

  Similar to the previous morning, I pressed my face upon the glass, cupping my free hand over my eyes to block out the massive chandelier’s glare from behind me.

  “Lucian, I’m gonna have to check this out. Sorry for the raincheck on our Madden match.”

  Unsure what to do with Alisia’s puppy squirming in my arms, I held him while hopping over the banister. He yelped as I landed a little less gently than I would’ve liked. Yeah, it’s just about impossible to be perfect when a warlock has excitement coursing through his veins like a high-voltage charge.

  It’s the same damned glow from last year behind the school—I’m sure of it!

  “Sorry about this, Lucian,” I said, feeling almost silly addressing a dog as a young child. Sitting on the foyer floor with his ears spiked up like a bunny rabbit, he cocked his head again to study me as I hurried to the patio door. “I’ll give you a treat when I return. How about that?”

  His excited puppy bark resounded in the foyer as I hurried outside into the cool night air and headed toward the barn.

  It’s still there—same golden haze glowing brightly!

  The mist hovered above a small blackberry bush But, before I was halfway through the yard, it began to disappear.

  No, no, NO! Dear God, don’t let the damned haze frigging disappear on me again! NOT this time!

  I ran faster, leaping over the driveway’s pavement to reach the barn, and then I scurried to the bush. Despite my best effort, by the time I reached it, the ethereal golden glow was only a wispy essence, a vapor barely detectible in the dimness.

  Dismayed, I prepared to return to the house empty-handed... until I noticed something.

  What in the hell is this?

  Attached to one of the barren branches was a folded piece of parchment. When I touched it, the paper felt warm, as if it had recently been held tightly in someone’s grasp.

  I scanned the area on the off chance I might catch someone leaving, but I didn’t see or otherwise detect another presence—mortal or immortal. Returning my attention to the folded paper in my hands, suddenly the golden light reappeared—emanating from inside the twin folds.

  I nearly dropped it in surprise, but hung on long enough to open it.

  “It’s a note... intended for me?” I whispered, pausing to look around me again.

  A short and carefully scripted message had been penned in a style I had rarely seen—most recently in my grandfather’s older manuscripts several years ago.

  Short and sweet, the inscribed words inspired a nervous smile... and then another gasp as the glowing letters ignited into flames that engulfed the entire parchment, consuming it in a matter of seconds. A trail of tiny embers disappeared into thin air before reaching the grass I stood upon.

  Much like the mist that had preceded its arrival, all signs of the note’s existence had vanished. But the short message was sure to stay with me, portending another sleepless night.

  Welcome back, Sebastian. We’ve missed you!

  Chapter Seven

  Needless to say, the message left me stunned.

  A little dazed, too. Dazed and confused... just like the old Led Zep song.

  Wary of who might’ve witnessed this unexpected event, I casually walked back to the house—all the while keeping my senses open to anything, or anyone, who might be present in or around our property. As far as I could determine, none of the neighbors were aware of my presence. Not even my uncles, whose backyards faced our park-like sprawl.

  Well then... who left the note?

  It was the question that stayed with me for the rest of the night—even long after my family returned home, and Alisia had collected her adorable pup.

  Frankly, I was surprised she and Mom—and even Grandma—didn’t ask about it. Maybe it had something to do with my focus on learning the latest cool maneuvers for Madden NFL Twenty-one, even though the note’s fiery message remained seared inside my head.

  Welcome back, Sebastian. We’ve missed you!

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  It was the last thing I asked aloud that night, as I climbed into my bed shortly after midnight. But no answer came to me. Not even when my dreams arrived—including a very vivid one of Daciana and me, both of us gazing toward what looked like an identical golden mist in the woods located behind the art school, across the street from Twin Magnolias’ park-like backyard.

  It wasn’t until after I showered and dressed Friday morning that I thought about it again. The message popped into my head as I came down the stairs, and by the time I poked my head into the kitchen, it was no longer a secret.

  “Good morning, Son!” Mom was holding a spatula and wearing a flour spattered apron. “You’re just in time for some fresh biscuits!”

  They smelled amazing, and my mother had just pulled out the tray from the oven. Meanwhile, Alisia and Grandma sat at the kitchen table where they eyed me knowingly. At the moment, it was just the three women in my family and me. No sign of Dad, Grandpa, or even my uncles.

  But I took little comfort from that fact, knowing the psychic gifts this trio possesses. These three witches are, in a word, formidable.

  Alisia chuckled as I sat down, shaking her head.

  “What?” I asked, wondering what this was about... but also knowing the likely answer.

  “You!” She laughed.

  “Me?”

  “Yes, you... trying to act coy when you all of us know what happened last night.”

  Oh shit!

  “Oh yes,” said Grandma, wearing a slight grin. “And not just the women in this family. Adrian was here earlier confirming the same vision of the note disintegrating in your hands last night.”

  She paused to sip her morning tea, and Mom pulled up a chair opposite her with an offering of a biscuit plate she gently pushed toward me, buttered and drizzled with fresh honey. Meanwhile, Alisia sat directly across from me, her deep blue eyes boring into my psyche.... I used to hear stories of how Al Capone’s hitmen would box in a poor stoolie about to take a bullet to the head. Only, in my case, I had three witches stealing peeks inside my noggin.

  “Oh, come now, Sebastian. Must you be so dramatic?” Grandma chided. “This isn’t a 1920’s shakedown at the Wabash!”

  Her warm brown eyes glistened as she laughed. Alisia giggled along with her... at my expense, of course.

  “Son, we’re not planning to interrogate you,” said Mom, as she handed me utensils and a napkin. “But, we won’t stop you from telling us about last night, either, if you’re willing to talk about it.”

  I nodded respectfully, and rose from my chair to grab the milk from the fridge.

  “I’ve got it!” Alisia beat me to it, so I sat down again. “Do you have any idea who left the note?”

  She retrieved the milk carton from the fridge and poured me a glass while waiting expectantly for my reply.

  “I thought this wasn’t going to be an interrogation, Ali?”

  “It’s not... yet.” She grinned naughtily. “All three of us can see what happened, but without being physically present, none of us have a clue as to who left the note for you. The only hint is the message itself... and the golden mist. The haze reminds me of the one I briefly saw in the woods behind the art school, just as we arrived as a family to safely separate you from Daciana before the Mateis could kill you.”

  “You saw it too?” I asked, while ignoring the pain from my sister’s admission that she was part of the ‘Radu separation committee’ that fateful summer day. “Did anyone else see it?”

  “No, Bas. Just you and your sister, unless Daciana saw it too,” Mom advised.

  “I think she did,” I said softly. “Frankly, I never expected to see it again.”

  And just like that, my heart threatened to seize that memory and use it to vanquish my mind’s iron-fisted control over my raw emotions.

  “It will get easier, dear,” Grandma assured me, gently placing her hand on my forearm. “
Healing one’s heart takes time.... But, to Silvia’s point, no one else in this family saw the haze. Just you and your sister... and possibly Daciana. I doubt any of the other Mateis witnessed it.”

  “I doubt it too,” Mom agreed.

  I almost asked how they could be so certain. Then again, I remembered the Mateis’ angry faces. Only Daciana looked surprised when her gaze was drawn to the same warm golden glow as mine.

  “It doesn’t matter, Bas,” said Alisia. “What seems important is the fact the message sounds like it came from someone you know well. Yet, I see the confusion in your mind. Hurry up and finish stuffing your face so we can go take a look at the blackberry bush.”

  “What if I’m still hungry?

  My protestation went ignored as she turned her attention to Lucian, who twirled like a ballerina when she asked if he needed to go outside to take care of his personal business.

  “Lucian’s about to pee in here. We can take him out together. So, come on!”

  My kid sister headed for the back door leading out to the back porch. I glanced suspiciously at Mom and Grandma when I suddenly felt full.

  “I’ll make sure there are plenty of biscuits waiting for you, when you get back, hon’,” Mom assured me, as I rose from the table.

  By then, Alisia was already out the door.

  “Hey, wait for me, sis!”

  “You’ll have to catch up!”

  Bolting through the doorway, I saw Lucian in the yard answering nature’s call. But I didn’t see Alisia until I caught a glimpse of her long blonde hair billowing in the breeze created by her preternatural speed as she made a beeline for the blackberry bush.

  It took me a moment to catch up to her, as I scooped up her pooch into my arms on the way.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked, once I arrived where she stood beside the bush.

  “Was this the right angle?” she asked, lining up the branch that had held the note with an unseen point in the air

  “Angle for what?”

  “For where you were standing when the glow died, relative to what’s left of a wormhole,” said Adrian, startling me.

  He and Manuel stood behind us.

  “A wormhole?” Confused, I gazed at the empty space in the air where Alisia had looked and where Adrian now pointed. “What wormhole? I didn’t see one... do you think a warlock, or witch, is responsible for the note?”

  “Actually, no,” said Adrian, moving past me and reaching a hand into the air above his head. He grasped something unseen by me, and it appeared that Alisia and Manuel were just as mystified. We watched him rub his fingers together as if they were covered with a residue of some sort. “Manny, I haven’t encountered anything like this since we left Belgrade three years ago.”

  He looked over his shoulder at Manuel, who nodded grimly, as if reminiscing about something unpleasant.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  Alisia voiced my unspoken question, while my uncles exchanged somber glances.

  “Well, to be honest, I’d prefer to do a little research on this first, and then I’ll tell you,” Adrian advised. “But, for now, suffice it to say I have not encountered an essence like this since parting ways with Wizard Ninnius in Serbia. It takes a special talent to manipulate a wormhole’s presence to where it is virtually invisible to a human eye—even those belonging to our kind.”

  “So, we have a wizard involved here?” I asked, expecting a wait on that answer too. To my surprise, my uncle nodded.

  “Could be... but not one I’m aware of,” he said. “Definitely not one associated with the Ninnius line as far as I can tell.”

  Alisia smirked.

  “No, dear niece... it isn’t ‘Attila the Munchkin’ either,” he said, frowning. “If only it were him, this could be fun. But, our downtown constables have yet to meet Sebastian. Whoever took pains to deliver this to him, while addressing your brother as a friend, is the greater mystery. Hmmm.”

  That’s all Adrian had to say, before he and Manuel suddenly disappeared, likely returning to their homes across the way. Meanwhile, Alisia eyed me pensively while shaking her head. Shaking her head with a worried look, I might add.

  Feeling uncomfortable, I turned my attention to Lucian, presently resting against my shoulder. The dog studied me in much the same way as my sis.

  “I thought maybe you had avoided any further trouble, Bas,” she said quietly as we walked back to the house. “Sorry... guess I was wrong.”

  *****

  Uncle Adrian’s declaration left me fascinated about the mysterious message. What kind of wizard would be interested in contacting a young warlock such as myself? Especially, one coming off an EEC incarceration.

  Any immortal outside my immediate family could face unwanted scrutiny from the Elders Council... something no practitioner of magic would ever want.

  It made little sense, if any.

  Then there was my sister’s reaction. Needless to say, if Alisia was worried about what the sender of the note intended, then perhaps I should be worried, too. Right?

  Wrong.

  Curious maybe... but not worried. Not yet.

  I spent much of the day tucked away in Grandpa’s office on the main floor—a room he shares with my father. A large glass bookcase contains hundreds of books that are quite old—some volumes dating from before the Middle Ages. As long as I am careful in handling these ancient manuscripts, neither Dad nor Grandpa would care about my latest research quest.

  But, without much to go on—other than the parchment and style of the handwriting, as well as the manner in which the note ignited and then completely disintegrated—most of what I read were texts and passages about wizards in general.

  Mom and Grandma checked on me at lunchtime, and I took a brief break before diving back in until late afternoon. By then, the fading sunlight seeping through the French doors facing the back porch announced dusk’s rapid approach.

  Dad and Grandpa had returned from an art gallery outing in nearby Hohenwald with Harrison Crawford, and I could hear their jovial report on the day’s fun to Mom and Grandma in the kitchen. Grandpa also mentioned something about getting ready for a ‘guy’s event’ across the street at Julien May’s place. At that same time, Mom, Grandma, and Alisia would join Meredith Mays in attending a neighborhood planner at the Deans’ home for the coming weekend’s Oktoberfest festivities.

  “Bas, are you ready?” Dad asked, peering into the office. “Your mother says you’ve been a busy little bee in here almost the entire day. Bet you’re looking forward to a break from it all.”

  “Ready for what?” I asked, looking up from one of the more recent additions to Grandpa’s ‘library’—a leather-bound manuscript from Adrian that hailed from the very same Serbian city my uncle had mentioned that morning, Belgrade. This nineteenth century tome provided more information about Wizard Ninnius than anything else in my grandfather’s collection.

  “Did you forget? Julien invited you to join us for a festive night of playing his pipe organ. Surely you recall your fascination last year about his stories of entertaining the neighborhood during the local high school’s football season, right? Unless, you’d rather stay here.” He grinned, and an ornery twinkle danced in my father’s hazel eyes.

  “I did forget. But no, I’m coming. Just let me clean things up.”

  Not that I had completed my scouring of everything Grandpa’s book collection could provide. But, Dad was right... I did look forward to checking out Julien’s famed organ—one that once belonged to a locally famous organist. I couldn’t recall that dude’s name, but I did remember Julien’s description of disturbing the entire neighborhood with his weekly concerts during football season in recent years—and especially Julien’s description of dogs, cats, and raccoons howling along.

  How could anyone resist? Especially, since this would be a rare moment when I would be allowed to partake in a little alcohol without drawing a scornful glance from a mortal adult. Julien was one of the fe
w mortals who understood fully who we are as warlocks and witches. Same for Harrison Crawford, from what Grandpa told me the night before, and Mr. Crawford would also be there. At least these two men wouldn’t see me as just a nineteen or twenty-year-old kid.

  No doubt, Alisia wished she’d be there also, instead of the more matronly task of planning the Oktoberfest parties and local get-togethers. Although, something told me she was okay with participating with Mom and Grandma. Probably, because her beau, Harris Martin had also been invited by Julien.

  Dad and Grandpa helped me put the stack of rare books back into the shelves, carefully sealing everything up once finished. Then, I freshened up and the three of us crossed the street to the Mays’ fabulous Victorian.

  “Well isn’t this nice!” Julien enthused as he opened the front door and motioned for us to step inside. “The party’s just getting started.... Harrison and Harris are here, and now we have our Radu companions to complete our manly group of six for the evening!”

  He laughed, and led the way to a spacious living room that had been given a few decorative updates since I was last here. I couldn’t be certain, but it looked like the organ had some new electronic upgrades as well.

  “I see you’ve noticed, eh, Bas?” Noting my gaze was locked on the grand instrument, Julien gave me a wink while sipping on a cocktail—likely his preferred vodka and cranberry juice. “This old gal needed a few tweaks to keep up with the times, but she plays as smoothly as ever. I take it you’ll be joining in the fun tonight?”

  “What... I can actually play it tonight?”

  “Absolutely, sport... both you and Harris.” He pointed his cocktail glass at Harris, who smiled and nodded to me from a corner of the room. “Us old farts will be your audience and your judges this evening!”

  Man, I’ve really missed Julien. I love listening to his genteel southern drawl, and a sense of humor that flows easily from subtle to overt—all of it magical in pace, timbre, and delivery.