The Secret of the Sacred Four

by E J Elwin

  I was moved by her compassion and touched by her thoughtfulness. Flower power gifts and magical indoor rose gardens aside, Jessica Appleby had quite the beautiful heart.

  CHAPTER 17

  Seaside Chats

  It was nearly one in the afternoon. Lizzie and Hortensia brought up their concerns that they should go make an appearance at their homes so their parents wouldn’t worry. Jessica offered to drive them to each of their houses, but then suggested they all spend the night again after the Bonding Ceremony and the fight with the Brotherhood were over. All three girls happily agreed and noted that they would be able to pick up some extra clothes and necessities from their homes while they were there, although Jessica and Jasper had plenty of everything we could need, including clothes.

  It gave me the perfect opportunity to finally talk to Harriet alone, and I politely declined the offer to accompany Jessica on her drive to the girls’ houses. “I haven’t forgotten about the Halfway Place,” she said, as she gathered her purse. “I will send you again this evening before we head out.”

  “Thank you,” I said, hugging her and then the girls. “Be careful out there.”

  “Oh, I dare them to attack us,” said Sylvie. “I dare them!”

  I found Harriet curled up in a chair in the sunroom with a cup of tea and a book in her hands. I glanced at the cover and saw that it was Stephen King’s Carrie.

  “I love that book,” I said, taking the chair next to her.

  “So do I,” she said. “I’ve read it dozens of times and never get tired of it. The telekinetic mayhem really appealed to me as a young woman, as you might imagine.” She closed the book and set it on a nearby table. “Is there something on your mind?” I wondered if she could already sense what I wanted to talk about.

  “It’s about the Cloaking Crystals,” I said. “More specifically, my lack of one in the cemetery the night of the resurrection spell…”

  I explained to her my realization in the Purple Haze, that there had actually been two witches involved in the resurrection spell, and that one of them hadn’t been wearing a Cloaking Crystal. I shared my fears that I was the one who had attracted the Brotherhood, had brought on the attack that had eventually gotten Connor and those other people in Portland killed.

  “Was I the reason for it all?” I asked. “Is it my fault Connor died?”

  My eyes stung with tears, and Harriet reached out for my hand.

  “Arthur, listen to me. The first thing you need to understand is that it is not your fault that Connor or those poor people in Portland were killed. That fault lies with the Brotherhood and the Brotherhood alone. As far as the question of your lack of a Cloaking Crystal drawing them to us… I would be lying to you if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind.”

  My heart sunk. I was right.

  “The truth is,” she said, “I’m not sure. I was the one casting and leading the spell, and you didn’t speak any spell words or take part, other than killing Father Gabriel, of course. It is possible that that alone could have done it, or that your simply being there around such powerful magic with your Sacred Four blood running through your veins was enough to send out a traceable magical signal.”

  My breath caught and I felt myself starting to tremble.

  “But Arthur,” she said, gripping my hand, “you couldn’t have known. Neither of us could. Part of the mythos of the Sacred Four is that you aren’t to emerge as witches until a certain time and place; first, when you each defy death, and then more fully when you all meet. If you look at it that way, and believe the magic in your blood was entirely dormant and untraceable at the time of the resurrection spell, then it wasn’t in fact you who drew them to us, and we can stick by my theory that the spell was simply too powerful for even a double-charged Cloaking Crystal to contain. It was the first one I’d ever cast, after all. I suppose the only way to know the truth would be to go out and cast another resurrection spell, this time with you wearing a Cloaking Crystal, then see if the Brotherhood still shows up…”

  I must have looked like I was considering the idea because Harriet laughed, not unkindly, and shook her head.

  “Arthur, that wouldn’t help anyone. And it wouldn’t change what happened. What matters is that you loved Connor, and it wasn’t you who killed him. You fought pretty amazingly for both of your lives, the way Jasper tells it. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you for that.”

  Her eyes shined with tears, and I went to give her a hug. There were a few moments of silence after I sat back down, and Harriet wiped her eyes with a tissue from a box on the table.

  “I got you thrown out of your house too,” I said, ashamed. “I’m sorry about that.”

  She laughed again. “Oh, honey, don’t be sorry about that! It’s just a house! And that, too, is the Brotherhood’s fault, the bastards. I can’t wait for us all to have a crack at them tonight.”

  This brought a smile to my face. I was always so reassured by her confidence.

  I left her to her book and wandered back up to the third floor. I passed Jasper’s room and noticed a thin haze of white smoke rising from the crack under the door. I caught a whiff of it and was astonished to find that it didn’t smell like smoke at all. It had the wet, earthy smell of a lake or pond, and it made me feel like I was outdoors. I leaned close to the door and heard Jasper chanting, his voice low and measured, as if he were reciting something he had studied many times. I remembered Jessica saying that he was working on a spell using the traitor witch’s swan feathers so that we could learn who she was. I wondered if that’s what he was doing right now.

  Not wanting to interrupt or be caught snooping (what if he can See me? I thought), I carried on down the hallway and back to room four, the Wardrobe Room. I looked around at the many mannequins perched on the long metal racks, at the ruffled dress in unsightly maroon and the gorilla costume posed as if to scare someone, then wandered down an aisle at random.

  Beneath the gaze of the mannequin that wore the blue sequin suit, I found a good assortment of men’s clothes and began to browse through it. I found some jeans that looked like they might fit, then gasped with delight when I found a t-shirt that bore an image of David Bowie. It was the one of him as Aladdin Sane, the same one I had chosen for my first magical transformation around Harriet’s cauldron.

  I shed Jasper’s sweatpants and Harley Davidson t-shirt and pulled on the jeans and Bowie t-shirt. They were both several sizes too big, but just as I was considering looking around for something that fit better, the clothes suddenly shifted and shrunk before my eyes. Within a few seconds, just as Jasper’s clothes had transformed into the James Dean outfit from the magazine, these new clothes had morphed into my exact fit.

  “Nice!” I whispered, examining the magical clothes that now fit me perfectly.

  I reflected that I’d been a little naive to think that this room would be nothing more than the kind of wardrobe found in any non-magical house, extraordinary as it was. It was a thrill to know that I could put on any item of clothing that I saw in here and it would fit perfectly.

  I glanced around for shoes and found a row of them on the floor beneath the rack. There was everything from boots, sneakers, and sandals, to shiny dress shoes, loafers, and moccasins. I spotted a pair of gleaming tap shoes and smirked, imagining myself going up to battle against the Brotherhood doing a jaunty song and dance number like in the movie West Side Story. I settled for a pair of black-and-white sneakers, and smiled in appreciation as I watched them change size to fit my feet.

  I climbed up to the library on the fourth floor which was now brightly lit by the sunlight pouring in through the wide floor-to-ceiling window. I strode up to it and gazed out at the ocean, watching the light glimmer off the waves and wondering if the ocean surrounding Connor in the Halfway Place looked the same at that moment or if it was always nighttime there.

  I tore my eyes away from the sea and walked to the table in the center of the room, where The Unusual, Uncanny, and Unrivaled Utterances of Ursula
Urry still lay open to the prophecy of the Sacred Four. I took the book to one of the poofy couches and sat down to re-read the prophecy and to learn more about the woman whose centuries-old vision had so changed my life.

  **

  It seemed only a second later that I heard footsteps thumping up the stairs to the library. My eyes flew open to see the massive pyramidal ceiling above me. I had dozed off on the couch with the book of Ursula’s prophecies open on my lap. I looked up in time to see Sylvie, Lizzie, and Hortensia walk into the library.

  “There you are!” said Sylvie. “We thought you’d gotten lost in Tokyo. Jessica says it’s almost dinnertime.”

  They had all changed into jeans and t-shirts. Sylvie and Lizzie’s jeans were blue but Hortensia’s were black, like the ones she’d been wearing before.

  “Nice outfit,” said Sylvie, as they sat down on the couch next to me.

  “You too,” I said.

  “More battle-appropriate attire,” she said, kicking up a purple sneaker. “Although, I did enjoy kicking some ass in heels last night.”

  “Light reading?” asked Hortensia, looking down at the book of prophecies.

  “You know, just some trivial stuff,” I said, closing the book. “I take it there were no Brotherhood or swan attacks while you were out?”

  “Nope,” said Hortensia. “Did you know that Jessica carries a bunch of thorny roses and prickly pear plants inside the Range Rover? She says they’ll go wild and eye gouge anyone who tries to attack her while she’s driving.”

  “It definitely gave us a little more peace of mind,” said Lizzie brightly.

  “No trouble with your parents?” I asked. I knew that if I was still at home, my dad would have something to bark at me for staying out all night with friends.

  “Actually no,” said Lizzie. “My parents are usually a little more strict, but after the Seastar, I think they’re just happy to see me out of the house and socializing.”

  “Same here,” said Hortensia. “My mom was just telling me last night that I’ve been isolating myself and I should spend some time with friends.”

  I remembered my own mom saying similar things to me after Connor’s death in the car accident, when all I wanted to do was stay in my room and sleep.

  “And my mom’s cool either way,” said Sylvie. “She’s known Lizzie for a long time.”

  The four of us left the library and climbed down to the ground floor, where we found that the sunroom had been converted into a dining room. The large wicker chairs draped in white lace had been pushed aside to make way for a long polished wooden table with matching chairs. The sun beyond the windows sat right at the place where the sea met the sky, and sent warm beams of soft orange into the room, bathing everything in an ethereal glow.

  Jessica explained that the house used to have a dining room but that she and Jasper enjoyed eating meals so much more in the sunroom, with its dazzling views of the ocean, that they had decided to make it the dining room instead. The walls that had marked the old dining room had been torn down, making the living room even bigger than it already had been.

  “Nice look, by the way, Arthur,” said Jessica, grinning. “I see you discovered the magic of that room all on your own.”

  The door to the kitchen swung open and a large silver tray bearing a freshly roasted turkey glided smoothly through the air toward the table. Platters of mashed potatoes and corn on the cob followed, along with bowls of roasted vegetables and tomato soup. Harriet and Jasper followed behind the dishes, Harriet with her arms at her side and her palms up, smiling as she saw our expressions.

  “What do you call this?” asked Sylvie, looking impressed. “The Sacred Supper?”

  Jessica smirked at Jasper, who flashed a boyish smile. “She said it, I didn’t!” he said.

  Four bottles of California chardonnay floated through the air and landed neatly on the table as we all took our seats. A steaming apple pie completed the procession.

  “Should I say it?” asked Sylvie, as we all watched the pie touch down on the table.

  “Please,” said Jasper, looking utterly chipper.

  “Appleby Apple Pie?”

  “Our mother’s own,” said Jessica, as we all tucked into the feast.

  **

  It was nearly eight o’clock. The sun was well set and the night was velvety black out the sunroom’s windows. Sylvie, Lizzie, Hortensia, and I pushed our plates away and sat back in our seats with the contented expressions that only a great meal could bring.

  I had never seen Harriet use her power of telekinesis at her own home as often as she was now doing. She set a long knife to cutting up pieces of pie, then distributed them around the table by levitating them in a small parade through the air to each of us. I wondered if being around other witches encouraged heavier use of magic; or maybe Harriet was just trying to keep the spirit of magic alive in us as the hour of the Bonding Ceremony loomed nearer.

  We all savored the Appleby Apple Pie, and for a few minutes, there were only appreciative murmurs and the sound of forks clinking against plates.

  “So I promised Arthur I would send him back to the Halfway Place again tonight,” said Jessica conversationally. “Would you girls care to sit in? Arthur, do you mind?”

  “Not at all,” I said. “You all want to watch my soul leave my body for an hour?”

  “Um, yeah!” said Hortensia, looking fascinated.

  “Definitely!” said Lizzie, intrigued.

  “Duh!” said Sylvie.

  A short time later, we all watched Jessica bring out her spell supplies from the tall oak cabinet. They were the same items from the previous night: the two candles, white and black, the five violet crystals, and the silver knife encrusted with sapphires. She laid the crystals in a circle in the same spot where she had before, and addressed me and the girls.

  “These are Crossing Crystals,” she said. “They’re another one of the four major Crystal categories. They’re used for crossing between realms as the name suggests.”

  She explained to them the things I already knew: that my soul was about to leave my body, that I would die if it wasn’t returned in under an hour, and that it was best to have a secondary spellcaster assisting with this spell in case something happened to the primary. She explained that my blood was crucial for the spell to work, that it would guide me to where Connor was in the Halfway Place.

  I lay down on the rug at the center of the crystals, then watched as Jessica gripped the black and white candles at their bases and closed her eyes. Both candles ignited, along with all the white candles on the small end tables, just as all of the antique lamps went out. The girls “ooh”ed in surprise as the room was thrown into a sea of shadows cast by the candlelight.

  “I thought only Arthur could start fires with his bare hands?” asked Hortensia.

  “That’s true,” said Jessica. “Arthur is the only witch in the world who can conjure fire with his bare hands without a spell or cauldron or crystal. We have pre-set spells cast on these candles and lamps. Notice, also, that no flame actually burst from my hands. That’s important.”

  Hortensia nodded, an intense look on her face, as if she were expecting to be quizzed on all this later. Her face, along with everyone else’s, was cast in dramatic shadows the way Jessica’s and Harriet’s had been the previous night. I felt like I was in a luxurious cave once again.

  Jessica handed me a pillow from the red velvet couch, then went to the record player by the fireplace. I heard a needle make contact with vinyl, then a lively tune that I recognized as John Paul Young’s “Love is in the Air”, quite a change from Jefferson Airplane’s “White Rabbit”, I thought.

  “I like to play music during big spells,” she told the girls.

  “Cardiac surgeons do the same thing when performing heart surgery, you know,” I chimed in from my place on the rug.

  Jessica and Harriet took their places on either side of me like before, as Sylvie, Lizzie, Hortensia, and Jasper looked on. It was a far more
comfortable experience to have him watching me with his eyes open and a cheerful smile on his face as opposed to the not-quite-sleeping stock-still statue of a stranger he had been the first time. The girls had their eyes trained on Jessica as she began to chant, as if they feared that looking away would cause them to miss the best part of the spell.

  “As the night falls, and stars come alive

  Upward we look, and upward we dive…”

  It was the exact same spell from before, down to the word. As she moved toward the verse that addressed me specifically, a breeze blew through the room, causing the candlelight to flicker, and the girls looked around excitedly. The Crossing Crystals came alive with a pale violet glow at their cores.

  “A drop of blood from the witch born of burning

  Bring him to that which consumes him with yearning…”

  Jessica picked up her knife with its glinting sapphires, then gently took my hand and poked my middle finger with the shining blade. As soon as the blood dripped onto the black candle, the flame turned the exact red of my blood and shot several inches into the air. The breeze intensified, battering the dozens of tiny flames, which flashed and danced but didn’t go out. If I didn’t look right at them, it looked like the room was on fire. The violet light inside the crystals pulsated and brightened, reminding me again of a nuclear reactor about to explode.

  “A meeting once more, his pain may it cease

  A final goodbye, a bid to bring peace…”

  The breeze became a powerful wind that felt like the one that had blown through the trees outside Huerta’s Restaurant. Everyone’s hair flew around in the magical breeze.

  “We send him forth, yet anchor him here

  He will return, so said the great Seer…”

  I felt the familiar sensation of the room starting to spin, like being on a merry-go-round. Jessica shouted the final line of the spell, joined suddenly by Harriet, as John Paul Young sang his final words.

  “Volant per astra!” they shouted.