by E M Graham
I faltered as he shook his head.
‘This is bigger,’ he said. ‘Far bigger.’ He looked up at me. ‘You’re going to love what I have planned. All your dreams will come true, Dara – even the ones you haven’t yet dreamed.’
The sorcerer was really creeping me out here. His eyes burned into mine as if he knew me, while a small smile danced at the edges of his mouth.
He held the clear bag up to the candlelight, his eyes shining with anticipation, then he opened the bag and sniffed deeply. ‘Oh, yes. Let’s do this thing.’
‘Here,’ he said in a normal voice again as he handed me an open bottle. ‘Drink this down, you need hydration for the ceremony. It can really take the good out of you.’
Willem twisted the cap off another and downed the whole bottle in one pass.
‘What exactly are you doing?’ I asked after I’d taken a couple of swallows. It was raspberry flavoured vitamin water, horrible stuff. My eyes were adjusting to the dark. I forced myself to lean on the counter in a relaxed manner, chin in hand, watching him measure up things into a bowl. He was referring to a very large, thick old book with leather bindings.
He looked up at me sharply. ‘I said, drink it all. Believe me, you will thank me.’
‘Do you have any unflavoured water? This stuff is gross.’
He shook his head. ‘You need the electrolytes. Down the hatch!’
I could feel his eyes on me as I took another mouthful, then he turned back to his preparations and I spit it silently back into the bottle.
‘I’ve never done this one before,’ he said almost under his breath. ‘It will be interesting to see how it turns out.’
‘You’re not experimenting with Brin!’ I said, shocked. ‘I thought you knew what you were doing.’
He tch’ed at me, dismissing my fears. I sat back on the stool and watched him more closely. Willem had power, some. Although the potions offered at the fair lacked magic, and it had taken no unearthly power to hook the women in his coven, just flattery and bullshit, I knew from firsthand experience those horrible creatures of his held entrancement deep within them. And look at the way he had whisked me into Alt that time, and how we had together harnessed that blue magic in the coven.
‘So, what are you doing?’ I asked him again.
Willem looked up at the wall in front of him with his back still turned to me and spoke in a very patient and nasty voice. ‘I’m creating a spell for the elf, what do you think I do? You asked me to do something about him.’
‘I thought... well, I just thought you’d be able to make him go back to Alt,’ I said. My voice sounded slow and all of a sudden I didn’t feel like I was firing on all cylinders, like I was missing a beat in my thought processes. I shook my head to clear it. ‘Convince him, like. I didn’t think you’d need to create some hocus pocus spell.’
‘Perhaps you don’t know much about magic at all,’ he sneered. ‘Now shut it, I need to concentrate.’
When he’d finished what he was doing, he turned back to me.
‘Bring over that candle,’ he commanded. ‘Place it on the shelf.’
I did as he bade then joined him at the center of the room where he had arranged a small table. He held a small glass beaker in his hand, the sort we used to use in Chem lab.
‘I need you to put your fingertips on this, lightly, as if you are using a Ouija board.’ he said, laying it on the surface before him. The liquid in the glass was murky grey with things floating in it. I could see bits of Brin’s hair but couldn’t identify the black lumpy blobs. ‘It is of the utmost importance that you fully concentrate on this.’
Resting the tips of my fingers on the smooth surface, I found I couldn’t avoid resting against his hands even at the base of the beaker. His small digits were thin and cold and their touch made me want to urge. I forced down the bile that was gathering at the back of my throat and allowed his fingers to rest next to mine.
‘That’s it,’ he said with a new soothing tone in his voice. ‘Just like that, good girl. This is what we need.’
It was not too late to turn back and just walk out on this, cancel the whole thing. I was already feeling so tired of it all and losing the urgency of my feelings even just an hour before. So what if Brin stayed? I could let the elf be, let him try to forge his own path in this new world and confess my wrongdoings to Hugh, and maybe I would have if I had thought Willem’s potion was going to have the least little effect. But Hugh had promised me that true magic didn’t rely on outside glamour and shimsham, it came from inside or it came not at all. That’s what Hugh had told me last September, and I still believed it.
‘I need you to focus your mind now,’ Willem said. ‘Close your eyes and think.... of nothing, nothing at all, focus on that place deep inside you.’
His voice had a hypnotic effect and I found myself going along with him, relaxing and growing heavy in body. The beaker was warming beneath my fingertips, and even his hands were losing their repugnance. We sat comfortably in our touch.
‘Now Dara, I’m going to enter your mind,’ he said softly. ‘Has anyone ever done that before?
I thought for a moment, reaching through my memory as I tried to grasp the concept. I shook my head. Hugh had read my mind before, yes, but I’d never felt him inside me. Willem had no power over me, he could not enter the head of this witch.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘An untouched mind. Your mind is pure, clean. Relax, and let me show you.’
He was filling my mind’s eye and then I felt him enter, a cold small hand reaching in. I flinched slightly and felt him withdraw, yet still he hovered close.
Then like the softest breath, like the morning mist barely there, Willem came back. ‘Hush, now,’ he said. ‘Hush, it’s okay.’
My body was growing ever heavier, and then the featherweight of his being gradually entered through my defences. I tensed only for a moment, but it was as if he was stroking me from the inside, smoothing down the quills in my mind, taking care of everything, and all of a sudden my distaste for the man had dissipated, I felt myself wanting more of that soothing touch within. Hungering for more of the peace his strange light touch was spreading through me.
‘Yes, Dara, yes, good girl. Let me fill your mind, let my presence enter, take down the barriers,’ he droned on.
And I did. I felt his presence filling in my head and didn’t even fight it. He wasn’t doing anything, just lingering around inside there and his voice was monotone and I didn’t have to think. I found myself drifting off in a warm fuzzy haze of relief, and even my body was responding to him, growing warm yet excited, all my defenses down as his fingers found the hidden private places in my mind and he inexorably drove deeper and deeper, imprinting himself within.
I couldn’t even pick out his words anymore, was he speaking Latin? Perhaps I should have made a start on the little grammar book Hugh had left for me but none of that seemed important right at this moment. I silently stepped aside, made room for Willem in my mind, allowed him to settle there and let his loving touch brush over the places that had never been touched before. It was strangely comforting, having another inside my head, for I could give up the fight, let him make the decisions, direct me. He nestled in, burrowing in, creating a place in me that was his alone and I could let my mind just drift.
And while drifting, it dawned on me that Hugh was wrong. This, this moment was right, with the sorcerer’s presence deep inside me, this was true unity, the comfort of another with me. I didn’t have to make all the decisions anymore, I could just be.
Hugh and all the Witch Kin. Hugh and his James Dean looks, the lean darkness of him. Hugh flying with me, that safe presence behind me, bolstering me up. Hugh talking about Willem, telling me something...
I had no sooner settled into my comfort zone than I was jolted out of it as a flash of lightning cracked through my brain, that same feeling of falling when you’re on the brink of sleep, and I physically jumped.
‘What just happened?’ I opened my
eyes to see the sorcerer triumphant across the space, his eyes ablaze with power. Our hands still touched, I quickly withdrew from the beaker. My voice was slurred. ‘What the frig, Willem? What the hell are you doing?’
‘I think we have it,’ he said, his eyes now on the glass.
In the short space of time I had closed my eyes, the liquid in the container had changed texture, it was now frothy, creamy and thick. It almost looked good enough to drink if I didn’t know its origins.
‘How’d you do that?’ I felt dazed and discombobulated, trying to shake off the feeling of his touch within me.
‘We did it, Dara,’ he said triumphantly. ‘Well, I did it, with your assistance. We will go far, my dear.’
‘I don’t... understand...’
He interrupted me. ‘No, you’ll feel dizzy for a short while still,’ he said. ‘Quick, now. You need to get the elf here. Immediately.’
‘You’re not going to make him drink that, are you?’ I asked.
‘It won’t harm him, merely give him thoughts about his childhood home,’ Willem looked at me and smiled. ‘Do you think I’d allow your friend to be hurt? After what we just shared?’
I didn’t want to think about what had just happened, the bile was rising in my throat again even at the sight of his tiny fingers. But he was right, I did still feel dizzy from whatever had happened back there. I stumbled down the outside steps and into the bar, and beckoned to Brin. He was just about to get up on stage with the guys.
‘I want to sing,’ he said.
I shook my head. ‘Never mind that right now,’ I told him, leaning against the doorway of the bar and trying hard not to think of Willem inside my head and how good it had felt and how I wanted to throw up. ‘Lots of time for that later. I need you to come with me.’
He only pouted a little before coming outside with me.
‘Alice is not here yet,’ he pointed out. ‘Will you use your black box to tell her where we are?’
‘Yeah, I’ll text her,’ I said. The stairs loomed steep above my head, and I had to stop for another moment. I entered the message into the phone as I tried to collect myself. Still my stomach heaved and I couldn’t help it, I had to let loose into the corner of the steps.
‘What’s wrong, Dara?’ Brin asked as he hovered over me, his wide mouth drawn down in consternation. ‘You’re sick and you don’t seem yourself. Were you imbibing?’
I shook my head as I wiped my mouth. ‘No, I’m okay, I just feel a little funny. I’ll be alright.’
I flashed him a weakly reassuring smile and led him up to Zeta’s where Willem awaited.
‘Ah, my friend,’ the sorcerer said, welcoming Brin onto the shop. ‘Come in, let’s let bygones be bygones, and we’ll all have a drink of hot chocolate. How jolly it will be.’
Brin stopped on the threshold of the store, his ears beginning to quiver. He shook his head vehemently and braced his arms on the door jambs of the entrance, for all the world like a cat being told to get in his carrier for a trip to the vet.
‘Dara?’ he asked me, his voice trembling just a little. ‘I cannot come in here. Evil awaits.’
‘It’s alright, Brin,’ I said gently. ‘Willem wants to be friends. He’s not going to hurt you.’
I took his arm and patiently nudged him inside. He stood there shivering for a moment longer, then allowed himself to be brought in to the store, his eyes on mine the whole time. The warm smell of chocolate diffused through the store, mixing with herbs of cardamom and cinnamon that were Zeta’s magic stock in trade.
I knew I was betraying the elf’s trust, but I told myself it was for his own good, brushing aside his fears in my need to get this awkward problem solved. I could feel Willem’s approval at my actions and a part of me deep inside longed to drink from that well. But that wasn’t why I was encouraging Brin to follow me, I told myself. Brin needed to be sent back from whence he’d come.
A pulse was beginning to throb inside my head, thudding and banging till it was like a hammer and I was feeling a terrible thirst. Willem had been right, whatever it was we’d done had made me dehydrated. I could hardly make it to the chairs Willem had laid out in a circle.
‘See?’ The sorcerer was holding up a tray with three mugs of steaming chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles on top. He lifted his upper lip into a smile, displaying an even row of chiclet teeth. The elf had followed me reluctantly inside the store, warily keeping his distance from Willem. He moved his chair closer to mine as if for safety.
I took the mug handed to me automatically, but hesitated before I brought it to my lips. The strange feeling I had, could Willem have drugged my bottle of water? I sniffed the hot chocolate, and even sent sensors into it, looking for something that wasn’t the basic milk, cream, chocolate and sugar.
It wasn’t drugged. My eyes met Brin’s. His drink had the potion that Willem assured me wouldn’t cause harm. I took a careful sip and the sugar rushed to my brain, clearing my head a little.
Brin saw the effect on me, nodded and lifted the oversized mug to his lips. But he had no sooner taken one swallow than his face crumpled and he let out a loud howl. The vessel fell to the floor, smashed, the contents splashed everywhere.
‘Christ, Willem!’ I said as I forced myself to rise and stand over to the elf. ‘What the hell did you do? Brin, are you okay?’
‘There’s no physical harm done,’ the sorcerer replied calmly. ‘It’s all in his mind.’
The elf’s eyes stared unseeing into the distance, his face contorted into a silent scream.
‘No harm?’ I stared at the elf in horror. What I had done, what doors to hell had I opened for Brin? Beautiful, gentle, fun loving Brin. ‘Look at him! He’s in pain.’
‘Hmm,’ Willem rubbed his chin. ‘I may have been heavy handed on the worm wort, but it will not be long lasting. He only drank a little bit, after all.’
He stood up calmly. ‘Get away from him, Dara.’
I refused to leave the side of my friend, but Willem strode over and roughly manhandled me away. The small man had surprising strength in his grasp. He shoved me against the nearest shelving with the books and jars and baskets of stuffed unicorns and turned his back on me and immediately started his loud incantations in Latin again.
Picking myself off the floor I turned in time to see faint wisps of haze surrounding Brin, and then they were gone as if they’d never been. He sat in his chair still, unmoving except for the pain which writhed on his face. I dashed back over to be with him only to find myself smashing against an invisible, unyielding wall.
After a moment I recovered from the blow, and tried again this time hitting out with my fist. It bounced back as if I had hit a Plexiglas window. The sorcerer stood by with his arms crossed and a superior smile on his face.
Brin sat there unmoving in the chair as if he didn’t even hear me shouting and railing against Willem.
‘I don’t know why you’re complaining so much,’ Willem sneered. ‘You led the elf into the pentacle yourself.’ He held the candle aloft to shine onto the floor.
For the first time, I saw design on the inlaid wooden floor. Scuffed through years of hard use as it was, the soft glow of the candle now showed the dark woods against the light, mahogany and oak and chestnut and elm, all pieced together to create an intricate pentacle like a Celtic knot.
And Brin’s chair was in the middle of it. Slightly off center, true, for he had moved closer to me when he sat down, but still inexorably and uncontestably within the wooden marking.
‘I thought we were going to send him back to Alt,’ I said. ‘But he’s still here.’
‘It does not suit me to send him off yet,’ Willem replied. ‘I still need your cooperation, and you won’t give me that if you have everything you need, will you? Even though I have branded myself onto your virgin mind, and you can’t ever escape that. I still need to ensure your obedience.’
My stomach lurched up again at his words. Was it true? Surely I could control my own mind if no
thing else in my life, there was no way his threats could be true.
‘You cast a spell on him,’ I said slowly as I sank into the nearest chair. ‘What did you do? You said the potion wouldn’t hurt him.’
‘You asked me for assistance for something you can’t do,’ Willem said slowly, turning to look at me. ‘I’m a sorcerer, of course I’m going to cast a spell. That’s what sorcerers do.’
‘I didn’t think you knew any real magic though,’ I blurted out. My head was still pounding.
‘Then you underestimated me, didn’t you?’ he said, a vicious grin coming across his face. ‘Like all your kind do. Witch Kin.’
‘But you failed Sorcerer’s College,’ I said to him. I rallied my head together. ‘How powerful can you really be?’
Even as I spoke I heard Hugh’s words again. Not failed, not at all, but thrown out for cheating. There was a huge difference between the two.
He looked at Brin and laughed again. ‘Powerful enough, don’t you think? Although your assistance was invaluable. No, I couldn’t do it without you letting me access your mind’s power.’
‘You... drugged me, in the bottle of water, you added something,’ I said. ‘But it wasn’t magic, I would have sensed it.’
‘No, just a few of Zeta’s benzo’s,’ he admitted. ‘Probably just as well you didn’t drink the whole thing. It did the trick of relaxing you enough.’
‘And the potion you gave him?’
“I told you it would make him think of his homeland,’ Willem replied, oh so smugly. ‘Unfortunately, it had a tinge of grief added to the mix, which has exacerbated his own painful memories. Interesting, isn’t it?’
‘You need to undo it. Now. Please. I’ll.... I’ll do whatever you need. Just let him go.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Willem said, shaking his head. ‘It suits my purpose to keep him right where he is in order to convince you to give me your wholehearted assistance. You see...’
