Magic Underground: The Complete Collection (Magic Underground Anthologies Book 4)

by Melinda Kucsera

  “Oh, Freddie! I’m not a witch, really I’m not. Please don’t call me that…. But what is this? What are you doing?”

  “Oh, Carol, don’t worry. It’s not anything bad, no! What I do is put the energy from the spirits into gemstones, like this one, so they can… help me with things. I’m sure you understand. You took the moonstone ring, after all.” He waved his hand familiarly.

  “But, Freddie… look, don’t they mind being put in there? I certainly wouldn’t care for it,” she argued. And then she sputtered, “Moonstone! No… I… uh… I don’t,” she was floundering.

  “Of course you have it, don’t be ridiculous. We’re far past that, my dear.” His fingers flashed in the light as he made one of his many dismissive gestures. “I hope someday to win it back from you. In fact, to show my good faith….” He reached under the table and pulled out a small, black bag, pouring a pearl necklace out of it and into his palm. The clasp was intricately box-shaped, and set with glimmering, black stones. “I do believe this is yours, yes? In our exchange?”

  Carol recognized the necklace she had slipped into his bag when she had stolen the moonstone ring from him. She felt mortified: not only had she stolen, but he had called her bluff about not having it, and so very boldly at that. He was entirely in control here. She was going to have to rectify that somehow. She felt the heat rising into her cheeks. Freddie had placed the pearls on the table before her, like an offering.

  “Are you giving these to me?” Carol asked.

  “Of course! They are yours, after all. I am not a thief. I do not take what is not offered me.” He looked directly at her with his silvery eyes. “I hope someday that you will see the error of it as well and return that which belongs to me.”

  Carol wanted to squirm under that gaze, uncomfortable with both his scrutiny and the thought of what she had done, but she held her back straight and did not look away. Freddie dropped his eyes from hers and softened, continuing.

  “Now, like I was saying, Carol, they’re dead. They are not using that energy anymore. As I said before, energy never disappears, it just changes form. Well, so, that energy is still there… I’m just helping it to ‘transform’, shall we say… into whatever I’m doing with it. Currently, I’m trying to keep evil at bay.” He laughed.

  At that moment, Carol heard the door open, its attendant bell ringing as it swung.

  “Helloooooo…!” A woman’s voice called out. “Freddie, are you there?” The voice had a German accent.

  In a moment, a woman entered through the beaded curtain. She was of indeterminate age, although not young, with languid, violet eyes, and silvery hair pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and wisping around her face. Freddie stood up and immediately embraced her.

  “Lorelei! My dear, how are you? This is my new friend, Mrs. Carol Conley. Carol, this is Lorelei.”

  Carol knew this woman through her image alone. This was Lorelei, the infamous tabloid-writer and fortune-teller! This woman was notoriously eclectic, or so the media said, with extravagant vacations, long seclusions, and lovers galore. Carol had always admired her sense of style but had never been brave enough herself to wear the flamboyant, Bohemian textures and oversized jewelry that this woman did. She found herself a little flustered and extended her hand in greeting. Lorelei took it, laughing, and squeezed Carol’s fingers gently.

  “Hello, dahling. Ah, you look at me like I vill bite your head right off! Don’t vorry, dahling… I don’t bite… often.” She winked. She wore a fur stole around her neck of the palest, softest-white ermine that Carol had ever seen, and she had not seen one in a long time. People did not wear real fur anymore, especially not with skull and foot-bones intact. It also winked at her. Carol stared and wiped at her eyes. Had she really just seen that?

  I must be imagining things, she thought, Too many ghosts around.

  “Besides,” Lorelei went on, “You have a lover, do you not? A... Zcotsman? He vould never forgive me.” She let Carol’s fingers go and sat down at the table. “Freddie, be a dear and get me a cup of vasser.” Freddie gave a close-lipped smile and ran off to do so.

  Lorelei put a massive purse of brightly colored, silken material on the table. Out of it, she pulled an old teacup and a small, metal box. Carol wondered why she needed such a large bag to hold such a tiny cup. What else was in there?

  “I am going to do zomething for you, my dear. I am going to give you a reading right now. Why not? It is what I do, after all, and I’m here.” Lorelei opened the box, pulled out what looked to be crumbled tea leaves, and put a large pinch in the cup. Freddie came back with some water. He must have known what Lorelei was going to do, because the water was in a mug, and it was steaming. Lorelei took the mug, poured some of the water into the teacup, swirled the cup around two or three times, and handed it to Carol.

  “Drink.” She said.

  Carol drank. It tasted like a black tea, strong and malty, almost sweet, like an Assam. Lorelei was going to read her tea leaves! Carol was interested, and more than a little excited. She finished the tea and handed the cup back over.

  Lorelei passed her fingers over the cup and murmured wordlessly under her breath. Then she hefted the cup in her palm to about eye-height, and in one move, flipped it over and set it upside-down, hard, right on the table. Freddie winced. Carefully she lifted the cup, peering underneath as she did so, until the cup was up off of the table, and the tea leaves were spread out on its wooden surface, displayed before them.

  “Hmm….” Lorelei began. “Vell, this is interesting.” She looked up from the leaves and at Carol. “It says here that you have ze lover, yes? And that you have been together for lifetimes, no?” She looked expectant.

  “Go on.” Carol said. She was expecting to hear about Queen Mary’s execution, about the handmaiden and the little dog, and about the bonnie guardsman who had loved them. She had discovered these things herself already through various experiences; from long discussions with Ian, to dreams she had had, to long evenings of library research.

  “Hm! Vell…” Lorelei gazed again at the leaves. “Over here… here it says that you vill change your mind about zomething important. Ya… ya. It says you are going to change your mind. I don’t know about what, dahling, but you vill.” She gave Carol a significant, direct gaze. Then she turned back to the leaves, scanning them with her long-lashed, shadowy eyes and tracing her delicate fingertips over their configurations.

  “Oh!” Lorelei exclaimed. Then she looked at Carol with a confused expression for a few intense moments, then back to the leaves. “Fascinating.... Zomething… zomething is coming… zomething is happening. Your decision is very important. A careful choice could tip ze balance. Does this make any zense to you?”

  Carol felt something suddenly brush softly against her ankle before she could answer. She jerked her leg away and looked down to see what she thought looked like an animal… a white animal, before it darted away. She looked back up at Lorelei: her ermine stole was nowhere to be seen. Carol had not seen her put it down. She felt the touch at her ankle again and glanced down out of the corner of her eye. It was the ermine; Carol was sure of it. The creature was looking up at her intently as it placed one paw on top of her foot. The paw sank right through her flesh: Carol felt nothing. It was ghostly, spectral, that paw. Carol realized she was looking at an ermine ghost. She didn’t even know that animals could have spirits like that! The ghostly creature, seeing her recognition and awareness, delightedly hopped up and down, and began to scamper around Carol’s feet, weaving in and out of her ankles at it did so. Carol could not hide her surprise.

  “Och, dahling. Is Karl bothering you? He’s zuch a Schlingel! Karl? Karl! Come here, Schätzchen.”

  The ermine appeared, wrapped around Lorelei’s shoulders once more, looking for all the world like a regular fur stole. Carol was amazed and enchanted. Did all animals have spirits like this one?

  Carol looked up inquiringly, but Lorelei turned to Freddie.

  “Freddie
, really, I am just here to pick up zome supplies. You know what I like, ya?”

  “Of course, my dear, how could I ever forget?” He went out into the store. Lorelei pulled a lace handkerchief out of her sleeve and swiped the cup of the dregs of liquid with a practiced turn of her turquoise-sheathed wrist. After packing up her box of tea and now-dry teacup, she tucked the bundled hankie back into her sleeve. Carol was enthralled by every, graceful movement of the celebrity.

  “Whenever I am in Chicago, I get all of my zupplies from Freddie. Ve go vay back, right to our school days!” Lorelei laughed, and it was hearty, earthy, the laugh of a woman who is comfortable with herself, no matter the surroundings, or the company. “I like to keep him in my zights, no?”

  Freddie came back with a small bag of white plastic. It had the words “Oddities & Rarities” printed in ornate, scrolled letters.

  “Oh, thank you, Freddie.” She peeked in the bag. “Zis is per-fect! Just what I needed.” She stood and fished around in her purse, finally pulling her hand out holding some cash. She stuffed it into Freddie’s hands, amidst his protests of “Lorelei… no… not again… hold on now…” and then she strode off, sending the beaded curtain swinging, and swept out of the front door, leaving Freddie standing there confused with a double-handful of money.

  “Well, my dear,” He said frankly, “That’s Lorelei!”

  He came over and poured the cash onto the table, swept the soggy tea leaves into the trash bin with a quick motion of his hand and a brief frown at the stain they left behind, and then sat and started smoothing and stacking the bills. He was halfway through the pile when he started chuckling.

  “She’s overpaid me again! Oh, that woman,” But his grey eyes were smiling when he looked up, “But what a woman!” He shared a grinning-gaze with Carol. She was also smiling. What a character Lorelei was! She had lived up to the audacious persona Carol had always imagined she had.

  “Freddie, now you’ve told me quite a few interesting things about yourself, but you never said you knew Lorelei! She has been around forever! How on Earth did you two meet?”

  Freddie went and put the money in the register, smirking enigmatically. Carol could hear the ring as he closed the drawer.

  “Oh, we met back when I was in Art-School, forever ago. She knows she can come here for… reliable ingredients,” he called from the other room.

  “Well,” Carol responded, “That’s just amazing. I can’t believe that I got to have my tea leaves read by Lorelei! Wait until I tell my sister!” She laughed to herself, imagining the surprise and envy on her sister’s face.

  Then Carol thought about what Freddie had said earlier. “Transform” energy? Into what? Use it for some purpose which she couldn’t even imagine? What did he mean, he was “keeping evil at bay”? Carol felt a cool, breathy sensation on the back of her neck, where the tartan shawl touched her skin. The hairs stood up, but she could not sense Ian. She wished she could hear his whiskey-brogue; she needed his guidance here. In a moment, Freddie returned.

  “So, Carol, have you thought about what I was saying before?” He sat down and looked at her pointedly. It was like looking into the bright eyes of a crow, one who knows he’s clever, and wants to play. For a moment she was almost frightened, almost frozen by that gaze, but then she decided it was more of an... inviting... playfulness and not menacing at all.

  Silly woman. Carol scoffed at herself, then returned her attention to the conversation at hand.

  “But isn’t it wrong, Freddie? Aren’t you using up people’s souls when you do that? What happens to them?”

  “The enemies I fight are legion, my dear,” he replied. “And subtle; full of corruption, greed, hatred…. They have all the power they can possess, because they are not held back by rules on how to acquire it. If I do not use every resource at my disposal, how will I win? How can I save, or even help, anyone that way? Tell me, Carol… you know about the spirits. Do you know any of them who would not want to fight against evil in this world?”

  Carol had to admit that she did not. “Well, no, of course not. But what if they are just waiting to pass on?” she asked.

  “How else are they going to earn their passage forward than by helping to stop evil from spreading? What better way to put things to rest than by helping to save someone, or even the world, by adding their leftover power to the forces of good and justice?” Freddie reached out and patted her hand. “My dear, you give it a good think, and take the pearls home. I like you, I find you quite an interesting person, and I hope we can remain friends. We are friends as of now, am I correct?” He arched an eyebrow at her.

  “Of course, Freddie, of course we’re friends.” And as she said it, smiling reassuringly, Carol realized it was true. They were friends, and Carol felt like they had actually been friends for a long time… maybe lifetimes. She thought about Lorelei’s prophecy. Perhaps she was wrong to fear this man or what he could do. Perhaps the spirits were wrong to fear him as well. She could not seem to hear Ian, and she wished that she could have a long talk with him about this. She was sure she was going to get her wish later, maybe once she got home. It seemed that the tartan, even though it was Black Watch, did not keep Ian strong enough to talk with her for very long. She resigned herself to needing to pack Ian’s teddy bear if she wanted to bring him along when she traveled.

  “Excellent! Now, it’s getting late in the day, and I promised that I’d show you my city. First, Lake Shore Drive and then, Zorba’s, where we will drink ouzo and dance around the tables until late in the night! Off we go!”

  Carol was glad that she had had that cup of Yao’s tea this morning; she felt like she was going to need it.

  Susannah pulled her car into the driveway of her mother’s home, tires crunching on the gravel. Carol got out unsteadily, shielding her eyes from the sun with large, dark sunglasses, and took her bag from the back seat.

  “Really, Mom… ouzo? And dancing? At your age? What would Dad say?”

  “Really, Susie… like you’ve never done anything like this? And what did your father say to you?” Carol raised her eyebrows.

  Admitting defeat, Susannah left, and Carol swayed her way into the house. She went up the old, hardwood staircase with some difficulty, and pushed open the door into her room. It was soft in here, and comfortable: familiar. She laid the Black Watch shawl over the Scottish teddy bear. Ian had not made his presence known since Freddie’s shop. She was worried but hoped that he just needed the bear and some sort of rest. She wondered how ghosts rested. She laid down on the bed for just a moment. Her head was pounding, and she was not sure if she was sober yet or not. She had not had a hangover like this in years. The physical exhaustion added to the whole experience, and Carol wondered what had possibly made her dance around those tables all night? She hadn’t even known those people! She smirked.

  It was fun though, she had to admit to herself… and drifted away into memory.

  She was awakened by loud, crashing sounds. Or was it shouting? Carol opened her eyes. She had fallen asleep in her clothes and could feel them bunched up under her. There was nothing different about the room… but she could hear Ian, his voice coming over a background of rumbles and distant calls.

  “And ye went into ’is lair by your bonny self?!” He was shouting to all of her senses. “An’ I could, I’d take ye o’er mah knee and skelp yer breeks!” He was as furious as Carol had ever felt. He moved through the room like a storm cloud, making the curtains wave, the perfume bottles and cup full of pens on the desk rattle. Carol thought the room darkened where he passed. In the background of her senses, she could hear noises like some sort of remote battle. “Did ye no’ see the people there? Did ye no’ feel for ‘em? Wha’ was gaun through yer wee mind, Carlie?” The battle sounds got closer. She could hear screams and cannon-fire. “I canna guard ye like this! Grab thyself, Milady, we must flee!” And then he was gone from the room with what felt like an implosion. Everything settled.

  “Well, that was exciting.�
�� Carol announced to the air. “Are you always going to have tantrums like this when I decide to take a chance?” Carol knew from long association with the ghost that, when he was extremely agitated, he started to speak to her as if she was someone who had gone through whatever he had. He often referred to her grabbing her “little dog” or herself, and almost always ended by suggesting they “Hie ourselves from here”.

  Ian’s voice came, more contrite, smoke over ice, and with less furious battle sounds. “Ah, lass… but ’e be sleekit and crafty. Don’t ye ken that ’e’s usin’ ye? Takin’ ye fer all ye’re worth, Carlie?”

  “Oh, Ian. I can protect myself at least a little bit… when you’re not around, of course. I have the tea, which is a great help, and remember when Julia taught me how to shield myself?” Carol thought back to a long afternoon in Julia’s apartment, drinking odd-tasting teas and trying to reach her “spiritual center.”

  At that moment, the telephone rang. Carol looked at the time. Five o-clock. It was not late yet. She picked up the receiver.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “Carol! I was hoping you were home. How did it go?” It was Julia. Carol noticed the coincidence and wondered at the serendipity of the Universe.

  “Last time we spoke, Jules, you said something about an onslaught of spirits?” Carol smirked. “Maybe you weren’t thinking about these kinds of spirits.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Carol told Julia all about her trip to Chicago: the encounter with Lorelei at Freddie’s, what he had discussed with her afterward, the dinner at Zorba’s, and the dancing and ouzo consumption that followed.