by Davis Ashura
Still, he hesitated at Elaina’s tent, almost afraid to ring the bell that would announce a customer’s presence. Did he really want to do this?
“Come in, William,” Elaina called from within the tent.
William sighed. How had she known he was out here? He shrugged aside the question, pulled open the curtain that served as a door, and entered her tent. Stepping inside felt like walking into a trap. He wondered if a fly felt the same way when it lighted upon a Venus flytrap? Knowing it was in danger, but unable to resist the carnivorous plant’s allure?
Inside the tent, he discovered long drapes of purple, red, blue, and yellow hanging from all corners and adding color to what would have otherwise been a drab interior. Candles provided a soft, almost ethereal glow, and from a small statue of a wizard smoking a pipe came the scent of sandalwood incense.
Elaina, back in her fortuneteller getup, with her ghostly whiteface makeup and sack-like clothing, stared as William stepped inside. She might have been intimidating or even scary, except that from a curtained off area in the tent came the unmistakable strain of the theme song to Murder, She Wrote.
Elaina must have noticed William’s amusement because she flushed. “Sorry about that,” she said, “but I’ve always loved Angela Lansbury. Ever since I saw Bedknobs and Broomsticks.”
“And now you watch Murder, She Wrote?” William asked, still amused.
“I think the show’s clever, and it’s neat seeing her solve all those mysteries,” Elaina replied.
“Don’t you think it’s weird, though?” William asked. “Everywhere she goes, someone gets murdered. She’s like a walking plague. I mean, if I ever saw Angela Lansbury walking toward me, I’d run the other direction as fast as I could. And if I knew she was visiting a town, I’d get as far away from it as possible. Someone’s bound to be murdered there.”
Elaina threw her head back and laughed, a bright, musical sound at odds with her ghastly attire. “That’s one way of looking at it,” she said. “Now, what can I do for you?”
“I thought I’d let you read my fortune.”
“You thought you’d let me? Isn’t that generous of you?” Elaina teased.
“Sorry. That didn’t come out right,” William said, reddening.
Something about Elaina threw him off-balance, something he couldn’t identify. She couldn’t be much older than him, but she acted as if she had seen so much more of the world, done so much more than him. Whatever the reason, William found himself both fascinated and intimidated by her.
“It’s fine,” Elaina said. “Sit down, and we’ll get started.”
William sat in the indicated chair. “Now what?”
“Now put your hands in mine and we’ll see what we see.”
William did as instructed. “Where did you learn your fortune-telling skills?”
“I didn’t learn them. I honed what was already there,” Elaina explained. She had her head bent to study his hands. “I was born with my abilities. But as for where I honed my skills, that was in the village of Sand, the place where I grew up. It’s far from here and remote, and the folk there are all witches.” Elaina lifted her head and stared him in the eyes, her gaze challenging. “Which is what I am. Does that scare you?”
William shook his head, trying to shake off his nervousness. “How could I be scared when you’re really just a sand-witch?” He grinned at his pun.
Elaina offered a sarcastic smile. “How original,” she said. “Now be quiet so I can figure out the lines of your past.”
While Elaina probed at his hands and studied them, William became aware of the heavy calluses on her palms. Apparently, she was a woman who worked hard. William wouldn’t have thought a fortune-teller would have to do a lot of manual labor.
Elaina’s head remained bent over William’s hands, and she wore a frown. “You have suffered a terrible tragedy,” she pronounced. “Recently. At such a young age.”
“It was my—”
Elaina tsked. “Don’t tell me. Don’t you know how fortune telling works?” Her head remained bent. “You lost loved ones.”
William shifted about, uncomfortable at her close guess.
“Family. Grandparents. No, parents,” Elaina said. She glanced up again. “They died unexpectedly.”
William nodded. “Last winter.”
“A car accident?”
William nodded again, not bothering to tell her the cause. She wouldn’t understand. No one normal would.
“There was another involved in that accident, was there not? Let me see.” Once again, she peered at William’s hands. “Who’s this?”
“It was my—”
Elaina tsked again. “Quiet.” She continued to study William’s hands, running her fingers along the creases and folds of his palms. “A sibling.” She glanced at William once more. “An older brother.”
“How did you know?” William shivered, creeped out by her ability to divine what had happened to him.
“You aren’t the only one with magic,” Elaina said with a mysterious smile.
“What?” William asked in shock.
“You and Jason. Your performance with the swords. It’s magical,” Elaina explained.
“Oh,” William said, hoping his face and voice seem as weak with relief as he felt.
Elaina laughed. “You look like I just took away a death sentence.”
“I’m just nervous,” William said, which was the truth, if not the entirety of it.
“Is it because you’re alone with me, and you wonder what Serena will think?” Elaina asked. “Or is it something else? Fear, maybe? Fear of the unknown, of true magic?”
“Pretty much all of that,” William replied.
Elaina nodded. “At least in this one instance you’re honest.”
What did that mean?
Elaina didn’t explain. Instead, once again she peered at William’s hands. A frown creased her face. “You said your brother died?”
“He died in the same accident as my parents.”
“The accident that wasn’t an accident,” Elaina murmured.
Once again, William’s hackles rose.
“What is hiding from my sight?” Elaina mused, sounding frustrated. “Something dark.” Her head shot up. “Walking death came for you and your family last winter, and yet you live. So, too, does your brother.” Elaina sounded utterly sure of herself.
William snatched his hands from her, his blood instantly at a furious boil. He tried not to shout at her. “I buried my brother. He’s not alive, and it’s a cruel joke you’re playing on me, saying he is.”
“Landon.”
A chill crawled down William’s spine. “How do you know his name?”
“Because a true witch can see that which is hidden even from the eyes of the magi.” Elaina held his gaze the entire time. “That is what you are, is it not? You and Jason and Serena. You have true magic, and your brother does as well. And he lives. He is lost and searches for himself.”
William stood up on shaky legs, wishing he’d never come here. His heart thudded, and he breathed as heavily as if he’d run a marathon.
Elaina’s performance had been impressive but only a performance and nothing more. Most of it had to have been guesswork on her part, just like her heroine, Jessica Fletcher, Angela Lansbury’s character on Murder, She Wrote. Elaina was no witch.
Landon was dead. Of that, William was certain. The notion that his brother was out there alone, wandering and lost, didn’t bear considering. It couldn’t be true. William had buried Landon’s ashes alongside their parents.
“Believe what you wish,” Elaina spoke into the silence, “but I speak the truth. The living death walks—”
“Thank you for your time,” William interrupted. He backed out of the tent, keeping his eyes on Elaina the entire way. Now he understood what it was about Elaina that bothered him so much. She stared at him like a predator.
It was hours after the final performances of Wizard Bill’s Wandering Wonders
in Las Vegas, late at night. Tomorrow the circus would pack up and head home to Salt Lake City. Meanwhile Serena, William, and Jason would leave for the saha’asra.
The enormity of what would happen afterward filled Serena with fear and doubt. Neither “Gloria” or the Colt automatic that she'd purchased in a local pawn shop assuaged those worries. The hours of her life might be measured in hours, and while she wanted to succeed at the task set to her by Isha and her father, even more she wanted to live. She wanted to see the New Year. She wanted to dance in the ocean. She wanted to climb the mountains of her island home. She wanted so much from life, so many things that she couldn’t even name.
Serena had never before known such longings or such disquieting uncertainty, and it left her wanting the company of others tonight. So when Mrs. Nancy, Jane, and Josephine Sandler had invited her to a late-night raid on Jimmy’s dessert pantry, she had gladly accepted.
Better than spending time worrying about William, or lying to him. Not tonight. Not now. She couldn’t. Tomorrow Serena would lie as skillfully as always, but tonight she wanted peace.
Right now, they had the backyard to themselves, a blessed quiet.
“Mmm. That’s good,” Jane said after taking a bite of strawberry cheesecake. Her voice had grown husky and her expression became one of sheer bliss. Jane took another bite, and her eyes rolled up. “Better than sex.”
Josephine Sandler, the pretty, young Dubrovic with whom Jason had been flirting the past few days, snickered. “Nothing’s that good.”
Jane’s eyes snapped open and she pointed her fork at the younger woman. “Get to my age, missy, and then come talk to me.” She took another slow, sensuous bite of her cheesecake.
“Or maybe you’re just doing it wrong,” countered Mrs. Nancy with an arch of her brows. “I’ll take the small death over a slice of cheesecake any day of the week, and three times on Sundays.”
“Three times on Sunday?” Jane snorted. “With Bill?”
“The Lord does tell us to be fruitful and multiply,” Mrs. Nancy responded with a pious expression.
“What does the Lord tell you to do?” William asked as he walked in from the shadows. He’d apparently only heard the end of Jane’s pronouncement. Jason walked alongside him.
Serena mentally groaned. A single night of peace. Was that too much to ask? She wanted to gnash her teeth in frustration. She didn’t have it in her to deal with William and Jason right now.
“There you are, Nancy,” Mr. Bill said, striding into the backyard.
Serena sighed. The peacefulness that had existed among the four women was officially over.
“Can’t I have just a moment to myself?” Mrs. Nancy complained, echoing Serena’s thoughts.
“Sure, you can. When we get back to Salt Lake. Then you can take a nice, long soak in a tub or whatever,” Mr. Bill said. “Right now, I need your help. Elaina doesn’t want to tour with us next season.”
Mrs. Nancy did a double take. “Why not?”
“College.”
“Not this again,” Mrs. Nancy groaned. “Is she still up?”
Mr. Bill nodded. “Can you go talk some sense into her?”
“I’ll be right there,” Mrs. Nancy said. She offered hasty goodbyes to everyone in the backyard before departing with Mr. Bill.
“I think I’m done here, too,” Josephine said, yawning mightily.
“I’ll walk you back to your trailer,” Jason said, hopping up with an overabundance of eagerness.
Jane glanced at Serena and William. “I think that’s my cue. Make sure to see me tomorrow morning before you leave.”
“We will,” William told her.
Serena sighed. Here he was despite her best efforts to avoid him. She could have whined about the unfairness of it all, but what was the point? Instead, she set aside her disappointment and mustered her energy. “Looks like everyone left us,” Serena said with a smile.
William shrugged. “I just came here for something to eat. I’m hungry.” He sat down and drew Jane’s half-eaten cheesecake and Josephine’s untouched slice to him and focused on devouring the food.
Serena shook her head in amazement. How did he eat so much? She’d have been as big as a houseboat if she ate like William did.
“Are you a magus?” William asked casually.
His head remained bent as he focused on his food, so he missed Serena’s wide-eyed expression of shock. She gazed at him in disbelief before quickly schooling her features to stillness. Once again, she leaned on her training and answered his question with one of her own. “Why would you think that?” she asked, hoping he didn’t notice the quaver in her voice.
William looked up from his cheesecake slices. “Are you all right?”
“Just a tickle in my throat,” Serena lied.
William shrugged. “Are you?”
“Am I what? A magus? Absolutely not,” Serena answered, her voice now firm. “Why would you think I was?”
“Elaina Sinith,” William said. His face had gone uncharacteristically flat.
Serena’s hackles rose. William liked her. But that wasn’t what made Serena nervous about the other young woman.
It was something else.
Serena knew the truth about Elaina Sinith. The fortuneteller was a being of magic, like William and Jason, except Elaina was a witch. While they weren’t as powerful as asrasins, they were still dangerous.
“She read my fortune,” William said. “She said that you’re a magus, and that my brother is alive.”
Serena exhaled in relief. The witch’s pronouncement could be easily explained away. “Well, I’m not a magus, and your brother is dead.” Serena tilted her head in consideration. “Not much of a fortuneteller, is she?”
“I didn’t think so,” he agreed, “but something keeps bothering me.”
“What’s that?”
“She knew Landon’s name. I never told her that.”
“Did Jason?”
“He says no.”
“Lucky guess?” Serena asked, hoping to set aside William’s concerns. He couldn’t be allowed to think too deeply on what Elaina told him.
William snorted. “That’s one helluva lucky guess. Landon isn’t exactly a common name. And Elaina says that she’s a witch, a real one from some place called Sand.”
“A Sand witch.” Serena snorted laughter.
“That’s what I said.” William grinned, but his smile quickly fell away.
“What is it?” Serena asked, her own smile fading.
“I wish she hadn’t known Landon’s name.”
“What are you thinking then? That I might have it in me to become a magus like you and Jason? And that your brother is alive?”
William perked up. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. You aren’t a magus now, but maybe you can become one.”
Serena breathed out a quiet sigh of gratitude, thankful that her distraction had paid off. William hadn’t seen through her ruse, hadn’t seen how she had guided his thoughts. She smiled and mimicked a faraway expression of longing. “How wonderful would that be? I wouldn’t be the only bland, boring normal person on Arylyn.”
“Yeah, and best of all, Landon would be alive,” William enthused, his face also filled with longing.
DREAMED DETAILS
“William, you awake?” a voice asked.
William rolled over.
“William,” the voice repeated.
He covered his ears with his pillow.
“I need to talk to you,” the voice persisted.
“Leave me alone. I’m sleeping,” William grumbled.
Someone clicked on the battery-powered lantern they used to light their small tent. “How about now? You still asleep?”
William poked his head out of the pillow, growling like a bear and knowing that he’d find Jason smirking down at him. “What?” he demanded.
“I was asleep and—”
“So was I,” William grumbled. “Besides, I thought you’d be with Josephine after you wal
ked her back to her trailer.”
“I did, and she let me kiss her goodnight, but that was it.” Jason looked crestfallen. “She didn’t even let me inside so we could talk.”
“Is that what they call it in Arylyn?”
“I swear that’s all I wanted to do,” Jason protested. “I just wanted to tell her how much I like her.”
“What did you want to talk to me about?” William asked. He really wanted to go back to sleep.
“After I left Josephine, I went back to my tent and fell asleep. That’s when I heard from Mr. Zeus,” Jason said. “I know where the saha’asra is. It’s on the north shore of Black Canyon Lake in Arizona.”
“You’ve got the saha’asra dialed in?” William woke up more fully.
“It’s in this small hollow next to where a dirt road leads right up to the lake. We won’t even have to do any hiking, just drive right there.”
Hope blossomed in William’s chest.
“Best of all,” Jason said, “some of the saha’asra extends into the water.”
“Why’s that good?”
“Because the necrosed don’t like water. They hate it.”
“Why?”
Jason shrugged. “How would I know? And more importantly, who cares? Maybe they melt in it and die or something.”
“That’d be cool, right?” William said with a grin. “We kill the necrosed, and none of us have to go to Arylyn. We can all go home and finish high school.”
“St. Francis,” Jason said in fond remembrance. “It seems like a million miles away.”
“A long time ago, in a high school far, far away."
Jason chuckled. “What would you have done after graduation?” he asked. “You can’t stay with Serena, you know? Your lorethasra is awake. You’ll have to come to Arylyn, but the longer you wait, the harder the training will be.”
“How much time do I have?”
“Plenty,” Jason said. “But college is definitely out. Four years, or in your case, seven, Mr. Bluto Blutarsky, is way too long to be away from Arylyn.”
“Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life, son,” William quipped, quoting Animal House.
They laughed, but the seriousness of what might happen tomorrow quickly stole away their humor.
