The Spell of Rosette

by Kim Falconer

  ‘Potency is a mysterious thing, Rosette. Sometimes it is based on how much, and sometimes on how little. The alchemy of this spell is activated by the greatest possible dilution. Ultimately, we want a solution that is so highly diluted that there is no longer any trace of our DNA present.’

  Rosette stared at the brown water swirling with yellow foam as it rushed back. ‘I suspect that’s the case already.’

  Kreshkali nodded. ‘It’ll take time for this cure to spread, years, perhaps generations, but the deactivation of the sea-devils has begun.’

  They both ducked when a gunshot sounded in the distance.

  ‘Let’s get you home.’ Kreshkali took her hand again. ‘Send a message to Drayco. Have him and Jarrod meet us at the portal. They can escort you.’

  ‘I can find my way.’

  Kreshkali looked at her without blinking until Rosette swallowed.

  ‘Right. I’ll have them meet us.’ She let out her breath when the older witch released her.

  ‘This world’s treacherous, Rosette. Keep that in mind before you think to go strolling down the lane. From now on, wear your sword under your cloak at all times and make certain you are never seen. They burn witches here.’

  She nodded. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Back to Treeon. There’s one more thing I need to do.’

  CHAPTER 20

  ‘An’ Lawrence sent you?’ Clay eyed the witch slowly. ‘In the middle of the night?’

  ‘He did, so best not delay. And keep your voice down. You’ll wake the whole dorm.’

  ‘I doubt it, after all they drank tonight.’

  ‘Just be quick.’

  ‘You’re Nell, right?’

  ‘Nellion Paree.’

  A cloud crossed his face. ‘Rosette’s Nell?’

  She nodded. ‘Get your gear.’

  ‘My guitars?’ he asked, looking under his bunk. ‘Flutes, whistles and pipes?’ He squinted at Nell in the candlelight. ‘It’s a festival performance? I don’t feel much like entertaining. I told him that.’

  ‘You might change your mind when we get there,’ Nell said, tossing him his cloak. ‘Bring as much as you can carry. Tuning forks, strings, picks, the lot,’ Nell directed, ‘and bring your sword. Do you remember how to use it?’

  ‘I do.’

  He screwed up his face when they got to the portal. ‘Why are we taking so much water?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  Kreshkali had to slap his face to wake him.

  ‘What happened?’ Clay asked.

  ‘You passed out. Feeling better now?’

  ‘I’m okay.’ He gripped his sword hilt. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I thought we went through that.’

  ‘You sure as demons aren’t Nell.’

  ‘Aren’t I?’

  He got to his feet. ‘Is it a glamour?’

  ‘Not really. Nell, Kreshkali, take your pick. We’re one and the same, though I’m sticking to this for now.’

  ‘Kreshkali? You’re the witch that killed Rosette?’

  ‘Hardly, lad, so take your hand off the sword. An’ Lawrence will explain, if you haven’t worked it out by then.’ She ran her hands through her spiky hair and shouldered the instrument bags. ‘Can you manage those?’

  Clay’s face was red. He picked up his guitars and followed her. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘Earth.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Ah, here comes the Sword Master. I’m going to let him fill you in on the way.’

  An’ Lawrence helped them through the manhole and out into the dark street. Clay listened for a while, his eyes getting wider.

  ‘Put it this way,’ Kreshkali said, ‘you’re here to teach—to bring music to people who’ve forgotten what it sounds like.’

  Clay’s mouth was open, but no words came out.

  ‘Jarrod safe?’ Kreshkali asked as they crossed the street.

  An’ Lawrence nodded.

  ‘And I trust my daughter’s well?’ she said, handing An’ Lawrence an instrument bag.

  ‘She’s waiting to see you.’

  ‘Temper?’

  ‘I’d say fierce describes it best.’

  Clay looked up. ‘Daughter?’

  ‘You know her, Clay.’

  ‘I do?’

  ‘Rosette.’

  Clay’s face contorted.

  ‘Sorry, lad,’ Kreshkali said. ‘We had to let you believe she was dead.’

  ‘She’s not?’

  ‘You’ll see for yourself in a moment.’

  Tears welled and spilled down his cheeks. He pulled up his hood and spoke no more. They arrived at Kreshkali’s apartment building at sunset, the glowing strip of rose on the horizon signalling the end of the day. The sky turned a dull, starless mud-black as they trudged up the steps, rain pounding the tin overhead.

  Rosette opened the door, light flooding the hallway. Jarrod stood from the table, moving to take wet cloaks, instruments and gear. Rosette stepped aside as he ushered them in.

  Drayco flicked his tail. Go easy on him, her familiar cautioned. He’s standing on a precipice.

  Clay? When she looked up, she met Clay’s eyes. Everyone went silent, staring until they all suddenly busied themselves with tasks.

  ‘I guess I have some explaining to do,’ she said at last.

  Clay stiffened at the sound of her voice. He looked over at the Sword Master, who gave him a nod.

  ‘I do as well. I haven’t been completely honest, Rosette.’

  ‘None of us have,’ she answered.

  ‘You’re not even part Gaelean, are you, Kreshkali?’ An’ Lawrence asked as he walked about her large studio, examining the shelves full of strange books and unfamiliar trinkets. Some he recognised, some he did not. The others were at the kitchen table, talking in hushed voices, a tentative peace working its way out between Rosette, Clay and Jarrod. Zero’s enthusiasm was affecting them all.

  ‘No, Rowan. I’m not Gaelean.’

  ‘When did you first come through the portal?’

  ‘Five years ago, Earth time.’

  ‘Gaelean time?’

  ‘Over fifty.’

  She tossed him a box of matches and nodded for him to light the candles. They settled in amongst the pillows and futon at the far end of the studio.

  ‘So, what’s your plan, Kali?’ he asked, stretching out next to her.

  She smiled. ‘I plan to save the world.’

  ‘And how do I fit in exactly?’

  ‘You mean once we bring down ASSIST?’

  ‘That’ll do for a start.’

  She yawned, rubbing her feet. He motioned to her and she lay back, lifting them to his lap. ‘I want to find my ancestors’ property, the Richter-Paree estate. It’s meant to be protected by a spell.’

  ‘And you need me to help you find it?’

  ‘I need you to help me run it.’ She whispered the last few words.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Not now, Rowan. I’ve got to sleep or die. It’s been a hell of a ride.’

  ‘Hell-of-a-ride?’ He said it like it was a foreign language.

  She smiled at him but didn’t explain. ‘We can polish the plans in the morning.’

  ‘To save the world?’

  She nodded, pointing to a spare quilt—a patchwork from Flureon. ‘Sleep where you like,’ she mumbled.

  The apartment had several cushion-covered futons on the floor and a large, overstuffed sofa near the fireplace. She wiggled out of her clothes, letting them lie where they fell, and snuggled into the bed, pulling the covers up to her face.

  Her eyes opened momentarily as Rowan got into bed beside her. He leaned on one elbow and whispered in her ear, ‘You’re as beautiful as ever.’

  ‘You look good too,’ she said as her eyes closed.

  ‘Kali? You haven’t given up on this world, this Earth?’

  ‘That’s not an option,’ she said. ‘Ever.’

  An’ Lawrence rubbed at the stubble on his jaw. ‘Have you had
a look around lately?’

  She turned to him but didn’t answer.

  ‘One more question. Have you got a razor hidden away somewhere?’

  She sighed. ‘In the bathroom, and yes, Rowan, I’ve had a look round. It’s decaying and putrid and vile. The inhabitants are a mess, save for a rare few. Still, I won’t abandon them or this place when there is still hope.’

  ‘So there is hope?’

  She gave the faintest smile. ‘That’s the only thing there ever was.’

  Rosette jolted awake at the touch of Drayco’s presence in her mind: Men approach!

  As she became aware of the thought, she saw An’ Lawrence jump up, Scylla at his side. He pressed his finger to his lips before drawing his sword.

  Where are they? Rosette asked her familiar.

  Foot of the stairwell.

  Are they coming?

  Fast. Wake Clay.

  Zero was up, and Jarrod was clearly communicating with Drayco as well. Rosette went to Clay and gave him a shake, shushing him before he could speak. They gathered around Kreshkali, barefoot and shivering.

  ‘Who are they?’ Rosette whispered.

  ‘Street patrols, if we’re lucky.’

  ‘And if we aren’t lucky?’

  Kreshkali’s face went grim. ‘Witch-trackers.’ She lit several candles and scanned the room. ‘Rosette, we need a glamour, fast. Get Clay, Zero and Jarrod and all the gear into one place, against that wall.’ She pointed to the east side of the studio. ‘The temple cats too. Blur them. Blur everything but me and Rowan. Can you manage that?’

  ‘I, I,’ she stuttered.

  ‘Rosette! We need this. Now!’

  ‘I can.’

  Kreshkali turned to An’ Lawrence. ‘Put that thing down.’ She nodded to his sword. ‘Send Scylla to Rosette and tell her to stay put!’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  She winked. ‘What I do best, and you are going to stay still. Back in that bed.’

  ‘Bed?’

  ‘I mean it. Go!’

  The temple cats followed Rosette, melting into the shadows. They had the predator’s knack for camouflage and hardly needed a glamour. Rosette shook the sleep from her head and helped move the gear against the wall, jugs of water, foodstuffs, instruments and crates. She whispered in her mind, over and over, weaving the spell she wanted to conjure. She didn’t even think about whether she could do it or not. She simply began.

  Pressing herself between Jarrod and Clay, she drew to her a concealment spell, one that would make them appear as a blank wall—no people, no familiars, no contraband. She slowed her pulse and respiration as she brought in the Elementals, surprised at how readily they came. They nearly sang with delight, responding to her intentions, and together with Fire, Earth, Air and Water, she felt a visual illusion take form in front of her. Once in place, it was like standing behind a two-way mirror.

  If I can imagine it, I can make it, she smiled.

  Nice spell, Maudi. Keep it up. They’re right outside the door.

  She heard the knock just as Drayco spoke.

  Kreshkali waved An’ Lawrence back down into the bed, hissing at him to conceal his sword and play his part.

  ‘I’m working,’ she screeched towards the door. ‘Wait your turn.’

  ‘ASSIST Corps. Open up.’

  Kreshkali grumbled obscenities as she pulled on a satin robe, careful to cover her tattoos but expose her breasts and belly. Rosette swallowed hard as she watched. The woman was formidable, impervious to the shocked faces and leers when she opened the door.

  ‘What the fuck do you want?’ she asked.

  ‘We’ve had reports. People coming and going…’

  ‘Of course they are coming and going.’ She clicked her tongue. ‘I’m not a seamstress, you realise.’

  ‘He’s your client?’ The captain pointed to An’ Lawrence.

  ‘Last trick of the night if you’d let me get on with it.’

  They scrutinised An’ Lawrence, bare chest, legs covered by a thin sheet.

  ‘You’re getting what you paid for, mate.’ The captain chuckled as he spoke, indicating the protrusion under the covers.

  An’ Lawrence didn’t reply but tightened his grip on the sword hilt nestled between his legs.

  ‘We’ll have a look around, if you don’t mind.’ The captain pushed past her, not waiting for a response.

  They circled the large room, shining their beams into the corners, looking at the books and knick-knacks. Rosette knew Kreshkali wouldn’t allow banned titles to be displayed, but she blurred the shelves anyway, making the walls melt with obscurity. They walked right past her and the temple cats, past the stocks from Gaela, past Jarrod, Zero and Clay, and into the kitchen area. Rosette felt a wave of panic when she realised they had left drafts and notes on the table. She took a deep breath and blurred them into an image of a table-cloth, trusting such things existed here in this world.

  ‘You do well,’ the ASSIST captain commented as he fingered the edge of the rich cloth draping the table. He ran his hand over the woven surface, his face giving a hint of longing.

  Kreshkali laughed, letting her open robe speak for itself as he shone his beam on her breasts.

  ‘There were reports of animals…’

  She shrugged her shoulders and winked.

  The captain took off his cap and wiped his brow before continuing his search. He went over the kitchen thoroughly then snapped his fingers, bringing his men to attention.

  ‘That’ll do for now.’ He led them to the door. ‘Remember, whore, we’re watching you,’ he said as they marched out.

  ‘Wouldn’t want it any other way.’ Kreshkali followed them to the door and locked it, leaning her back against the cool frame, letting her shoulders relax. Her face was etched with fine lines. Rosette waited, her heart pounding, before letting down the glamour. When Drayco said they were completely out of the building, they all emerged from the shadows.

  ‘That was a risky little game,’ An’ Lawrence commented, his voice barely more than a low growl.

  ‘I know it rankles not to slice and dice your opponents, Rowan, but now is not the time to confront them. We aren’t ready.’

  He made an incoherent response.

  ‘Will they come back?’ Rosette asked.

  ‘Probably not tonight, but we’ve got to move.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘A bigger place, for starters. I’ve got one set up, closer to ASSIST. It’s being minded by that ragtag of rebels I told you about, but first we need more recruits.’

  ‘Are you going to get Rosette to conjure those up as well?’ An’ Lawrence asked as he put down his sword.

  ‘No, but I’m thinking about paying a visit to Los Loma in the morning. Might find some volunteers there.’

  Kreshkali entered the chamber, dressed in a full-length fur-lined cloak and knee-high boots. She shivered. It was the dead of winter under the mountain of Los Loma and the contrast to the muggy Earth climate made her fingertips numb and her nose cold. She looked at the faces staring up at her. Dark eyes set, expectant.

  ‘Why have you called us?’ Hotha asked, morphing from his wolf form to stand before her. Several other Lupins did the same. Kreshkali smiled. She had gathered the leaders of these strange creatures to her, uncertain how they would respond, but she could tell by their auras they were keen for change.

  ‘I thought some of you might be ready for a trip back to your home world,’ she said, seating herself at the whalebone table with the others.

  ‘We are exiled,’ Rashnan said.

  Murmuring agreement followed.

  ‘That’s true, but only for your own protection.’

  Several of the pack snarled.

  ‘I know.’ Kreshkali held up her hand. ‘You hardly need protecting now, but in the beginning you did. You were a few litters of helpless pups and young whelps. If my foremother hadn’t smuggled you out when she did, there would be no Lupins anywhere. You’re one of a kind.’


  And what, Kreshkali, would we be going back to?

  Kreshkali kept her face a mask as she listened to Hotha’s words in her head. She suspected he’d shielded them from the others.

  I won’t pretend it’s a pleasant place. The Earth is badly damaged.

  As are we.

  She sighed. Maybe there could be healing, for both.

  Hotha touched her leg beneath the table. Then tell them. Tell them the truth.

  ‘I’m not offering you paradise,’ she spoke aloud. ‘It’s a mess there—polluted seas, martial law, witch-trackers ready to skin you alive, blocked sun, seismic activity, no clean water, constant acid rain, fear in all species, river, rock and stone…’

  Tell them the truth, but don’t terrorise them, Kreshkali!

  The witch smiled. ‘But we are going to change all that.’

  ‘We?’ the Lupin across from her asked.

  ‘Yes…me, my coven, some stray rebels and you, if you care to participate.’

  ‘We can stay in our home world then?’

  ‘If we win.’

  ‘Battle?’

  Kreshkali sighed. ‘Yes, I think it will come to that.’

  Nice bait.

  I’m just telling the truth.

  The Lupins conversed amongst themselves, their heads turning, ears shifting as the debate went on in front of her. Their mind-shields were up. She couldn’t follow a single thread until Hotha spoke to her.

  Looks like you’ll have at least five clans.

  Including yours?

  Of course.

  ‘What about hunting?’ a young Lupin asked from the far end of the table.

  ‘Only water rats in the city, but there’re still wild boar, goats and rabbits in the surrounds.’

  ‘Water?’

  ‘That you’ll have to bring from here, until we get more purifiers set up.’

  Fists thumped the table as each clan pounded their approval. Tails wagged in the background.

  Seven clans, Mistress. That leaves five here, in case.

  In case what?

  In case we don’t survive Earth.

  Kreshkali awoke stiff and sore the next morning. She stretched, looking over the wadded quilt to scan the apartment. They’d taken over the entire top floor of Annadusa’s building. There was plenty of room there for Kreshkali and her inner circle: An’ Lawrence, Zero, Clay, Rosette, Jarrod and the familiars, including the Three Sisters. The ravens preferred this top-floor abode to a winter in Gaela, content with the pampering they received from the coven, and the warmth. All agreed it best for Mozzie to stay in Dumarka, at least for now.