by Tess Lake
“Mom…” Jack said under his breath.
“How about we pick what we’re going to eat,” Jonas said diving in. We’d been given menus, but no one had looked at them yet. I picked mine up but Jas was not to be dissuaded.
“How is your book going?” she asked, smiling at me the way a lion might look at a fresh meal.
“It’s about halfway done, I think,” I said.
The truth was I’d barely thought about my story since I’d started working for Red at Writerpalooza. Between the packed days and now busy nights I hadn’t had the time to work on it–or hadn’t made the time to work on it. Although the days with Red had been busy there had been something incredibly inspiring about working with her and the other authors.
They were on the other side of an enormous chasm that at first looked too wide to jump across. I think I must’ve been absorbing some of Red’s session info by osmosis because every day I was feeling more confident in my ability to finish my book and then maybe do something with it.
“That sounds great. I’d love to read it once it’s done. Have you seen the writing studio that Jack has been building?” she asked.
“I have and it’s lovely,” I said, giving Jack a smile and touching his hand under the table.
Two things happened then: one, Jack pulled his hand away in alarm; and two, the waitress returned for our orders.
“How about I order for all of us?” Jonas proposed and then went ahead and did that. While he was ordering I opened the perfume bottle under the table and rubbed a bit more of it between my fingertips. The heat washed out and the chill left my skin. Was it my imagination or had the potion worn off quicker this time?
I slipped the perfume bottle back into my small pocket and then poured everyone more mead. By the time the waitress was gone the conversation had moved on from Jack and his writing studio over to Peta and the Cozy Cat.
“A business owner. That’s impressive,” Jas said, giving a significant look at Jonas.
Jack squeezed my fingers under the table as he tried to keep a straight face.
“It’s always great to be in love,” Jon said, smiling at us. I said cheers to that, and we clashed our tankards together, some of the mead ending up on the table.
“It’s going well and hopefully soon, Harlow might come work with me,” Peta said.
“Maybe, but I also have a job offer as a journalist again,” I said.
“Oh, really?” Peta said, her face falling slightly.
Oh no, why had I blurted that out? Oh right. Too much mead on an empty stomach. I’d have to take it easy.
“How is your business going Dad?” Jack asked, coming to the rescue.
We all drank mead while Jon talked about his business back in Canada. He had been a house builder but now was doing small jobs and sometimes Jas went along to help him. Jack and Jonas were very effective at keeping their parents off our backs, turning all the questions back around to what they were doing and keeping them away from any topics that could lead to questions of marriage.
“But now that we’ve been down here I don’t know how we’re going to go back to that cold,” Jon said.
“It’s so far away. Too far to travel if there are grandkids,” Jas said.
Jack and Jonas almost splurted their mead at that. I came close to doing the same and so did Peta.
Grandkids? Oh boy, Jas would get along wonderfully with the moms.
“I think that’s a little in the future,” Jonas said.
“How far in the future would you say?” Jas asked.
Thankfully, the food arrived, enormous hunks of meat on the bone, salads that I’m sure weren’t ever served to Vikings but were delicious anyway, and another large jug of mead.
We dived into eating, me taking the briefest of moments to apply another dab of potion, this time rubbing it on my leg. As we ate we talked about Jonas’s business. It seemed it was going well especially now the redevelopment of the Governor’s mansion was underway.
The conversation eventually swung around to the newspaper Jon and Jas had been reading this morning, The Harlot Bay Times. Carter had reported on the strange symbols all throughout town and had clearly blamed it on the authors, saying it seemed the work of vandals interested in publicity.
“Is that the guy you’re going to be working with? Would he be telling the truth?” Jon asked me.
Perhaps I’d had slightly too much mead by then or maybe the potion was having an effect on me because I simply blurted out the truth.
“Carter writes a lot of exaggerated garbage so he can keep selling papers but I think somewhere deep down he is quite honest and I feel sorry for him sometimes. It’s hard running a business in a small town,” I said.
“She is so honest Jack, I love her,” Jas said, taking another gulp of mead.
“Thanks Mom, I love her too,” Jack said.
I was blushing furiously and having a wonderful time thinking the night was going incredibly well when there was some sort of commotion over by the door. Valhalla Viking is quite noisy but in that moment there was a lull in the conversation as a new group staggered in. My breath caught in my throat as I saw Red, TJ, Jay and Jenna roll up to the bar, their faces streaked with black and their clothing covered in dirt and grime.
“Wow, how did they get in looking like that?” Jonas said.
It was then that the writers saw me and TJ called out my name. It seemed like the four of them were slightly tipsy, or possibly drunk. Before they could come over to the table and cause a scene I bolted out of my chair.
“There are some friends of mine, I mean, people I’m working with, I’ll be right back,” I said and rushed over to the bar.
When I got there, TJ clapped me on the back with an enormous hand that nearly sent me sprawling.
“Harlow Torrent, the woman of the hour,” he boomed.
“The mead is here,” Jenna said and Jay and Red each gave a cheer. A full tankard was thrust into my hands and I was pulled into saying cheers, although I don’t know what it was for.
“You guys need to keep it down… what’s going on?” I asked.
“We broke in and we found something,” Jenna said, grinning at me.
“What do you mean broke in? Are you talking about Rufus and Dawn, the Mysterious Mysteries?”
“No, not that. Jenna found this other place where they keep all this old historical stuff,” Red said and touched the back of my hand. She pulled away an instant later.
“Why are you so cold? Is it the air conditioning?” she said.
Oh no, the potion had worn off again.
“It’s strong over there,” I said, grabbing for the potion bottle. They were all too excited and, yes, seemed a bit drunk to care what I was doing as I rubbed some between my fingers. The heat burst over my skin instantly. I shoved the potion back into my pocket and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the fact that I could see Jon and Jas and everyone else at our table glancing over to where I was.
“Okay, so to get this straight you broke into somewhere else and not Rufus and Dawn’s?” I said.
“Jay, show her what we found,” Red said.
Jay reached behind him and pulled out something from the band of his shorts. He held it out to me.
“It’s a map,” he said, eyes gleaming.
It was a cloth map, clearly extremely old, sealed in a plastic bag. Up in one corner of it was the strange symbol that had been carved in doors all over Harlot Bay and spray painted everywhere. There were lines showing a rudimentary map of Harlot bay. Printed across the fabric were random letters and symbols.
“Is that a code of some kind?” I said. As I moved to take a closer look, I felt the magic tingle. Oh Goddess, it was magic and the writers had stolen it!
“That’s what we are going to figure out,” Red said.
“It was all thanks to you! You gave us the idea to break into Rufus and Dawn’s and then we felt brave enough that we should go into the place Jenna found!” TJ said. He slapped me on the back again before pulling h
is hand away.
“You don’t feel cold, you feel hot,” he commented. Jenna reached forward and touched me on the shoulder.
“Harlow do you have a fever? You’re burning up,” she said.
Oh no. I felt for the potion in my small pocket and as soon as I touched my dress I realized it was wet. Somehow the stopper had come off and the entire bottle had leaked out and soaked into my clothing.
“Talk to you tomorrow!” I said.
I felt my temperature jump and I was sure the next person who touched me would burn their hand.
I looked briefly back at the table and saw Jack watching me with a look of concern. I gave him an apologetic wave and then bolted out of Valhalla Viking. Two steps down the road I took off my fantastic high heels and ran with them in my hands, heading down the street towards the ocean. As I sprinted I could feel myself getting hotter. It wasn’t like a fever where you feel sick and terrible. I pretty much felt fine… but my skin temperature was increasing fast.
I bolted around tourists who were looking at me with a strange expression to see a girl running down the street. By the time I reached the edge of the beach I could smell smoke. My clothing was starting to crisp up against my body. I dropped my heels on the beach, ran straight into the water and dived. There was an audible sizzle like the first moment when you throw a steak into a hot frying pan.
Sadly, the tide was out. Because it’s a bay that meant it was quite shallow. I ended up landing on my stomach in a few inches of water (oof). I jumped up and continued sloshing outwards away from shore until eventually I was up to my waist, then I ducked down until the water touched my earlobes.
“Okay, stay calm, stay calm, stay calm,” I chanted to myself. At this time of night there were still people swimming but thankfully it was dark enough that no one could see out where I was. The water around me was simmering which then turned into a full boil over the next hour. I kept moving around, going out as deep as I could. Thankfully the tide had begun to come in and the cool wash of water helped keep the temperature down. It was another two hours before the boiling finally subsided, but then I was in serious trouble because once it wore off I was out a long way. I had to rush back to the beach, swimming as fast as I could as the water turned to ice around my hands. By the time I got back to the beach my feet were encased and chunks of ice were hanging off my hair. The cold had spread!
By then it was past midnight though and the beach was mostly empty. I still had my shoes, but I had no phone, no car and I had bolted away from dinner. I was feeling very sorry for myself as I walked along the beach, thinking I’d have to walk home, when Jack appeared out of the darkness.
“Harlow, are you okay?” he said, grabbing me and grabbing me in an enormous hug. I relaxed into his arms but then a sudden sob hitched in my throat and before I knew it I was crying.
“I was trying to impress your parents and then I spilled the stupid potion on myself and boiled the ocean out there. Now I’ve run off again. They’re gonna think I’m crazy. I hate being a Slip witch,” I said.
“But I love my little Slip witch,” Jack said. He had to let me go then, the lines of frost climbing up over his clothing and up the insides of his arms.
“Your parents are going to think I’m crazy,” I repeated again. My tears were freezing on my cheeks and falling to the ground as tiny beads of ice. This new power was worse than I thought and had spread fast.
“I think the word you’re looking for is eccentric, like Aunt Cass, and as I said, I love my eccentric slip witch,” Jack said. He kissed me on the cheek and squeezed my fingers for as long as he was able, and then together we made our way back up off the beach and to his truck.
Jack advised me on the way that he’d told his parents I’d bolted out because I wasn’t feeling well. Not the best of lies but hey, what could you do?
I recovered somewhat in the truck and it wasn’t long until he was dropping me off at home. Jack couldn’t stay; it wasn’t safe for him to sleep next to me. So we said goodnight, he kissed me again, and promised we’d see each other again soon.
After he was gone, a very sleepy Kira came out of her room and smiled at me. “How did the date with the parents go Torrent?” she said. Then she saw the state of me.
“Oh,” she said. Surprisingly, for a teenager, she came over and hugged me, pulling away before the frost could streak up her arms.
“Being a Slip witch sucks doesn’t it,” Kira said to me.
“No disagreement there,” I said.
Chapter Sixteen
I was up at dawn with a mission on my mind. Thankfully, the cold had retreated again, affecting only my hands. After a quick test to confirm that I was still frosting up water glasses (which I was), I put on my gloves and rushed down to the other end of the mansion to see if I could talk to Aunt Cass before she left for the day. At this time in the morning the dining room is empty but soon it would fill up with guests. The Torrent Mansion bed-and-breakfast had been full to the gills and every morning and every night the table was packed with tourists.
As I approached the kitchen I could smell breakfast being prepared and hear the clattering of frying pans and chopping of knives, and the other comforting domestic sounds of cooking.
I rushed inside and found Aunt Freya and Aunt Ro cooking like two madwomen possessed. Frazzled was exactly the right word to describe how they looked. They barely glanced up as I entered the kitchen.
“Oh Harlow, good, pass me that onion,” Aunt Freya commanded.
I passed her an onion and as I did she got a good look at me.
“Oh my Goddess, what happened to you?” she said.
“What?” I said, attempting to straighten up the bird’s nest that was my hair.
Aunt Ro took a look at me and tutted. “Did Jack see you like that?” she asked.
Great, Mom wasn’t here to mom me but my aunts were more than willing to step in on her behalf.
“Yes, Jack did see me like this and he loves it,” I said.
“Don’t make a big deal out of it. Do you want some breakfast?” Aunt Freya asked.
I was getting hungry, but I had bigger fish to fry at the moment, a fish by the name of Aunt Cass.
“Is Aunt Cass here? Is she up yet?” I asked.
“She’s downstairs, but I don’t know if you’ll be able to get into her lab,” Aunt Freya said.
I went down the stairs into the basement.
As usual, Grandma was standing there, although she was over in the corner with a sheet over her. There was also an ongoing concealment spell on her maintained by the moms in a rotation.
I felt a sudden pang of guilt. I hadn’t been down to see Grandma in quite a while. Yes, she is frozen and doesn’t respond, but still, all of us like to come down every now and again to have a talk with her. I walked over and lifted the sheet.
“Morning Grandma, good to see you,” I said softly.
As usual, there was no response. I put the sheet down and turned around, intending to head into the undermansion see if I could find Aunt Cass, but the woman herself came through the door, wiping pink off her hands with a rag.
“Harlow, the witch I wanted to see,” Aunt Cass said. I walked over to her and caught the sharp smell of turpentine from the rag.
“What’s that all over your hands?”
“Some paint but it was worth it,” Aunt Cass said. She dropped the rag on the floor, reached into a pocket, and pulled out a small, flat black stone. “Here, hold out your hand,” she said.
I obeyed, taking my gloves off, and she dropped the stone into my palm. As soon as she did, I felt that familiar burst of heat that I experienced yesterday with the potion.
Aunt Cass closed my fingers over the stone.
“I realized last night that having a liquid isn’t very stable or safe, so I thought I could infuse the potion into a stone. It’ll only come out a small amount at a time and as long as you just touch it every now and again, it’ll work fine,” Aunt Cass said, proud as punch.
I
stared at her for a moment, having the feeling that I wanted to strangle her.
“I’m very glad you realized that. It’s something that would have come in handy last night at Valhalla Viking when I spilled the whole bottle of the potion on myself and nearly caught fire,” I said through gritted teeth.
“You nearly caught fire? Wow, that sounds amazing!” Aunt Cass said.
“Amazing? I had to bolt away from Jack and his family again. They must think I’m a crazy person,” I said.
“But if you got hot without burning that’s an amazing discovery! Imagine what you could do with that potion. Take a gulp and go out to fight crime. No one would be able to grab you without burning themselves,” Aunt Cass said.
“You forget the bit where my clothing nearly caught fire. I had to wait in the ocean for hours. So your superhero who’s out drinking that potion will be fighting crime naked,” I said.
I realized I’d been sidetracked from the point of why I went to see Aunt Cass and despite feeling quite annoyed with her, I realized I was being slightly ungrateful.
“But thank you very much for the potion. It worked before I spilled it on myself, and thank you for the stone. I appreciate it,” I said, softening my tone.
“So is that why you came down here?” Aunt Cass asked me.
“Nope. Yesterday, the writers broke in somewhere, I don’t know exactly where but they stole a very old map that had that weird symbol on it and some coded message. They brought it to Valhalla Viking. I sensed magic but that was right around when I spilled the potion on myself and so I had to get out of there and hang out in the ocean for a while,” I explained.
“Which one of them has it now? The big hunk of muscle, the little one, Red, or that guy with the curly hair?”
“Jay Savage had it last night. I think that’s the one you mean when you say the curly hair,” I said.
“Hmm… interesting,” Aunt Cass said with that sort of mad gleam in her eye again.
“What do you mean interesting? What are you planning?”
Aunt Cass ducked down and picked up the rag from the floor, using it to wipe the last few smudges of pink from around the ends of her nails.
