Cass seemed not to see him. “Cold is death,” she murmured.
Alaric grabbed his wine from the table, then went to her, crouching on the floor. “What is it?” he asked gently.
She looked up at him with an expression of despair. “Don’t mind me. It’s just the season. Winter gets to me, Alaric.”
“I thought I told you to call me Ric,” he said, his hand closing over hers, his thumb gently rubbing her upper wrist. “And it will be over soon. It’s already close to Valentine’s Day.”
“You sound sad about that,” she whispered.
I’m not...for the first time I’m looking forward to it. “You should be happy about that,” Alaric consoled. “You can stop spending so much effort to keep your flowers alive.” He kissed the back of her hand gently. “You never told me really how that poppy got so far from your house, Cass.”
“A bird,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “I dropped one of the seeds I’d enchanted, and he flew off with it and ate it.” She looked up at him with sad eyes. “You were trying to kill it with the snow when you buried it, weren’t you?”
Uh oh. Say something, anything. “I was trying to make it go dormant,” Alaric said hastily.
“Winter is death,” Cass stated solemnly.
“Winter isn’t death,” Alaric corrected gently. “It’s dormancy. A season to rest and recoup from all the activity. A time to relax and nurture the soul with inspiration.”
His words stirred Cass from her silent state. “For most plants, winter is the end. Sure there are seeds for new plants, but the plant itself dies.” She paused. “My life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending.”
“E.E. Cummings’s poem called Somewhere I Have Never Traveled,” Alaric said, casting his mind back in an effort to recall a line from the poem that would be of some comfort to Cass. “You open petal by petal, as the spring opens her first rose. That’s encouraging. And I think he wrote many other poems that spoke of the beauty of green growing plants.”
“The plants make me feel like I’m alive,” Cass said with a weak smile, suddenly looking up at Alaric. “It just comes at such a cost.”
There was never going to be a better time. “Sustaining all the spells that make your porch flowers possible must take tremendous power and concentration,” Alaric said. “Why aren’t the ones inside enough for you, Cass?”
She was silent.
“I’m only asking because I’m worried about you,” he continued. “I want to help if I can.”
Cass’s lips trembled, her eyes already filling rapidly. “I need something to welcome me home,” she whispered.
Alaric went to her, putting his arms around her. Cass leaned into him gratefully with a sigh.
“Who died?” he whispered. “Please tell me what happened that made you so afraid—”
“I should go,” Cass said abruptly, breaking free of Alaric’s arms. She darted from the room.
Alaric went after her. “Wait, Cass—”
She already had her coat half on and her boots. “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry, Alaric.”
“Don’t go,” he said, taking her by the shoulders. “Please, Cass. I want to be there for you. I—”
“No,” she said bitterly. She pulled back to look at him, her expression hurt and angry. “You know, I hate winter for the same reason I can’t trust men. Because you’re final. Because you die.”
She ran out of the house into the snow, ignoring his calls to return. By the time Alaric had on his gear to follow her, she was gone.
* * * *
“So her husband died?” Alexander said, looking at Alaric over their glasses of whiskey.
“I think so,” Alaric said glumly, wondering if asking Alexander over to get his advice had been a wise choice after all. “She didn’t say it straight out.”
“She’s locked herself in summer, surrounded by light, but her heart and soul are frozen. It’s just with fear instead of frost.”
“Very poetic, Alexander,” Alaric said sarcastically. “But what can I do to help her? It’s clear she needs my help.”
“Show her there’s nothing to be afraid of. That she won’t die, and neither will you,” Alexander offered. “Show her that there’s beauty in winter as well as summer. That it’s more than the season of death.” He drank the rest of his whiskey, then poured himself another. “I’m sorry I’m not more help, Ric, really. But I tend to stick to the ladies who want my company, and only need a little persuasion—”
Alaric didn’t answer, lost in thought. Show her the beauty of winter. But how?
“I’ve got to say, though, if she’s as powerful as you say, then she’s a prize worth going after,” Alexander continued. “It’s too bad that magic can’t help you with your lady—”
Alaric tuned out the rest of what Alexander said, sudden revelation taking hold. Maybe magic can help. In fact, maybe it’s the key.
* * * *
As soon as Alexander left, Alaric raced upstairs and began pulling down books at random, scanning through them for a spell that he thought he remembered. But all he had to show an hour later was a pile of books scattered on the floor and two spells that probably wouldn’t help, one for roses made of ice called White Flowers, and the other for eternal blooming called Everlasting Flower.
Alaric swore aloud. I thought for sure that I had something better, but I can’t remember the name. Or maybe I imagined it.
He looked forlornly at the spells, looking through the ingredient list. The roses are easy to make, but they’d just be constructs of ice with no smell or color. What Cass loves about her plants is that they are alive...
Alaric’s eyes widened and he grabbed for the pile of books, looking into a thick black tome, his desperate eyes seizing on the spell for infusing life into an inanimate object. “The Spark,” he murmured aloud, a fresh idea taking shape.
* * * *
“I really hope this doesn’t end like the Sorcerer’s Apprentice,” Alaric said aloud two weeks later, placing one of his ice roses out in his backyard. The fully formed flower was made of ice but resembled a cut flower, complete with thorns and leaves. Its color was a mix of browns with a touch of red on the ends of the petals and a green tinge to the leaves.
I can worry about perfecting the color later, once I know if this will work. Alaric read the incantation, then carefully sprinkled the glittering dust over the ice flower.
There was a cracking sound, then the rose broke into two parts, as it bent double. As Alaric watched, the rose put forth a tiny head in the center of the bloom, small black eyes forming, with a reddish nose and tiny nubs that had to be ears. The stalk widened, becoming first a backbone then a torso, the leaves furling together into legs, which immediately crouched as the living flower stared up at Alaric, nose twitching.
I used the rabbit’s tuft of fur I found on the snow in place of a demon-dog’s hair. I’ve made the world’s first living flower-rabbit. Alaric crouched down, holding out his hand to the flower-turned-rabbit. “Hi there,” he said gently, expecting the creature to bolt.
Instead, the creature came to him, then let out a rumbling purr.
It was cat’s fur I found, not rabbit fur. Good going, super magician. Alaric gathered up the animal—for it was clearly animal now and very much alive—and trudged with it into the house. “Let’s get you something to eat, Leo.”
* * * *
Later that week as he sat watching TV, Leo snoozing on his lap, Alaric finally forgave himself for his mistake. While Leo was certainly not going to help with wooing Cass, the catlike creature was already a fast friend, at his side almost before Alaric could call out for him. Leo seemed to enjoy magic as much as Alaric, alertly watching as he worked on his other spells. More exciting, Leo’s very presence seemed to intensify the power of Alaric’s spells. The new orange glowball that hung above them was more than a nightlight; it had the power of Cass’s glowballs that lit her porch plants. In
fact, the russet glow was almost too bright to relax under.
Alaric petted the magical cat, his hands smoothing over the rough furry back whose hair resembled the rough bark of a tree and up to its head, which looked like a miniature lion’s. The rose petals had elongated, forming a kind of mane strangely soft to the touch, yet tough as armor. Leo’s claws were like thorns, sharp, un-curved prongs flexing, and un-flexing, as he purred. Leo could also tolerate the cold better than any cat but was warm to the touch; he was no longer made of ice.
I have a familiar now. While that might impress Cass, it won’t get her to trust me. I’m going to have to try something else. But what?
* * * *
As Alaric’s last class of the evening was wrapping up, he noticed Alexander waiting at the door, his expression impatient and worried. Alaric hurried through his lingering students’ questions, then came over. “Is something wrong?”
“Word is your would-be girlfriend’s eternal summer got noticed,” Alexander said darkly. “Someone must have come through town and sensed the huge, magical, signature.”
“So what?” Alaric questioned, tilting his head and knitting his brow. “It’s not against the law to do magic for yourself on any level. Cass is hurting no one.”
“I’m sure she’s not,” Alexander replied. “But that doesn’t matter. It’s been reported as a weather violation, Ric. You know messing with the weather is strictly off limits because that gets noticed by everyone—”
“She’s only working a charm for her own house,” Alaric said defensively. “That’s hardly world weather domination—”
“It’s on her porch, which is technically outside her house,” Alexander stated. “I’m not happy about it either, Ric. That damn state board is always poking its nose into people’s businesses.”
“They’re a bunch of bureaucrats,” Alaric scoffed. “The most they could do is issue her a fine.”
“No,” Alexander said darkly, “They’ll probably involve the state Ruler to deal with it. He’ll send one of his weremen to investigate.”
A cold chill went down Alaric’s spine. “What Ruler? You say the word like it’s something to be feared. Weremen? Is Cass in danger?”
“For someone who’s so into magic, you don’t know much about the world beyond the human side of it,” Alexander mocked. “You didn’t really think all those spell ingredients you’ve seen listed are just clever names for something mundane, did you? Werewolf claws, werebat wing, weresnake skin, faerie blood, vampire’s fang—”
“I always suspected that they were real when the spell was written,” Alaric said defensively. “I had no idea that they were...still available.”
“Well, they are,” Alexander stated. “They’re just very expensive, as a rule—”
Alaric took hold of Alexander and shook him. “I don’t care about that! What are they going to do to Cass?”
“I don’t know!” Alexander said, scowling and pulling free. “You know, Ric, you were a lot more fun when you could think about someone else besides that witch—”
Alaric stared at his friend, his face draining of color. “It was you. You were the one who turned her in.”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “You should leave her to her fate. She’s never going to see you as anything but a threat.” He turned on his heel and strode off.
Alaric pushed down his regret and hurt and ran for his car. He had to get to Cass before it was too late.
* * * *
When Alaric arrived home, Leo was waiting for him anxiously, tail twitching. There was a dark feeling to the air, as if something evil lay in wait for him. He hurried inside and upstairs, Leo at his heels.
Pulling down tomes, he searched for some kind of weapon, something he could use to protect Cass. But how can I protect her when I don’t know what’s coming for her? I need some kind of weapon that will work on anything.
Alaric paged through his best tome, then threw it down in disgust.
There was a sharp pain in his leg. Alaric staggered, glancing down. Leo crouched there, claws embedded in Alaric’s ankle, an open book held in the creature’s small mouth.
Alaric took it and looked at the page. “White Fire,” he said aloud, scanning the spell and its ingredients. “We’ve got the bat’s fur and the rest of the herbs, but I don’t have faerie hair—”
Leo turned its head to its flank, ripping out a tuft of bark-like hair with its teeth. The creature stood up on its hind legs, holding the hair up as an offering.
Alaric took it gratefully, then stroked his familiar’s head. “Let’s do it,” he said resolutely. They worked into the night, combining the ingredients and simmering them until only powder was left. Then it was time for the final test: setting the powder concoction alight. If it went out, they had failed. If it burned and became a mass of white flames, they had done it.
Alaric took a little of the potion outside, his familiar following with a box of matches in its mouth. He set down a teaspoonful of the powder directly on the snow, then Leo went to light it with the match.
“No,” Alaric said kindly, stopping his friend and familiar. “I won’t have a chance to use a match when it’s time to use this. Let me use the Words of Immolation.” He spoke the words carefully.
An orange fireball erupted upwards with a whoosh, making both figures jump back. The flames burned on for a full minute, then changed to white momentarily before flickering first blood red, then a greenish brown before finally burning out into smoke.
Alaric waited a moment to make sure it was safe, then crept closer. The flames had burned down through the snow and into the very earth, making a blackened circular crater.
We did it. Alaric ran back upstairs, grabbed the rest of the powder, then headed back to the car. But as he went, a man materialized in front of him suddenly, the feeling of danger that had lingered all evening solidifying into overwhelming fear.
Alaric staggered backward, Leo at his feet hissing.
The man stood there, considering him.
“Who are you?” Alaric said bravely.
“I am Terian,” the man replied, moving closer. “And you, warlock, had better explain your actions right now.”
Alaric gaped at Terian. His eyes are red. What is he?
“I sensed your magic like a stain on the forest as soon as I entered this town.” Terian continued. “It seems there is more than one errant magician I need to correct.”
“On whose authority?” Alaric demanded.
“The New York State Board of Magic and Enchantments,” Terian replied. “I’m here legally and not on Hell’s behalf, as I’m sure you expected.”
A shiver went down Alaric’s spine. A demon. He’s a demon!
“I saw you test that magical fire,” Terian accused. “What are you planning, you and your familiar?”
“Defense,” Alaric stammered. “Just defense.”
“Defense against what?”
“You,” Alaric managed.
“You would need no defense against me,” Terian said, his eyes again flashing red. “If you are not breaking magical laws.” He took a step toward Alaric, murmuring some words, reaching his hand upward to the sky with his palm outstretched. A ball of bright blue fire erupted from Terian’s hand, burning furiously.
Dare I try the same with the powder? It might burn me to nothing. Yet if the demon gets past me, it would seek out Cass next. I have to save her.
Alaric took a deep breath, then held out the powder in its packet, speaking the Words of Immolation. The white packet exploded outward, fire billowing up, shining white.
The pain of the fire in his gloved hand was almost unbearable, but Alaric gritted his teeth, then threw the fire at Terian.
Terian countered the blow with his blue fire, both fires coming together with the metallic ring of swords. Then the white fire consumed the blue, becoming purple and glittering before burning itself out.
“Cass has done nothing,” Alaric shouted. “I’m not going to let you hurt her!”
“Hurt me?” Cass said.
Alaric turned in surprise to see Cass had driven up in her car in the midst of the fight. She stood there in her winter coat, holding a vial of white shining liquid in her right hand.
Alaric rushed to her side, taking her in his arms and hugging her tight. “Are you okay?”
Cass hugged him back. “Of course. I—”
Alaric cut off her words with a passionate kiss, all the longing he felt for her these months apart bursting through. Cass clung to him as well, her lips devouring his, her longing the same fervor as his.
“I think I understand now,” a wry voice said from behind them.
Alaric broke the kiss, turning with his arm protectively around Cass. Terian watched them, smiling for the first time.
“I thought there might be a love triangle in this when that male sorcerer reported a witch,” Terian said, coming to them. His eyes were no longer red. “I’ve seen enough of them in my time to know they cause problems. “
“So you’re not going to do anything to her,” Alaric persisted.
“No,” Terian stated, dusting himself off. “Though I will be back to get that recipe for...what would you call it, Alaric? Purple fire?”
“I hadn’t thought,” Alaric said slowly, relieved, excited and proud all at once. A demon knows my name. Quickly, he added uneasy to his list of emotions.
“You’re its creator, so you should be the one to name it,” Terian said. “There is nothing that consumes blue fire, to my knowledge. I’m impressed, something that isn’t easy to do.”
Alaric blushed faintly, conscious of Cass at his elbow.
“Goodbye for now,” Terian said. Then he disappeared.
“How did he do that,” Alaric murmured.
“Teleportation,” Cass said in a hushed voice. “He was at least part demon, if not full demon.”
Alaric hugged her again. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“All I could think of was getting to you,” Cass said tearfully. “I felt that bad feeling since I woke up. I knew it might be someone coming for me. But if it wasn’t for me, it was for you.” She showed him the white vial. “This is to protect against evil beings. They call it Liquid Faith.”
Frozen: A Winter Romance Anthology Page 37
