Fated Fantasy Adventure

by Humphrey Quinn

  Meghan stayed on the defensive and after blowing up two more ghosts, her body began the transformation back to living again. As her feet touched the ground, she ate the second piece of candy and dispersed of three more ghosts.

  “This isn’t what we signed up for!” one of the attacking ghosts called out. Another agreed. And then another.

  “Idiots!” shouted Duppy. “You can’t die again!”

  The ghosts didn’t care. The rest made a beeline for the woods to avoid being her next target. The hooded young man watched her every move, waiting for her to become human again. She stared him down, unwilling to take her eyes away. Her body became solid again. He shot off another spell. She dove to the ground and it shot over her, tearing into one of the mud huts.

  Meghan shoved the final piece of the candy into her mouth.

  This was it. She only had a short time, and still had Duppy to contend with.

  Then after... she’d be human again with little to no way to defend herself against the young man waiting to attack. Why couldn’t he be as easy to deal with as the ghosts? Not that she wanted to blow him up, for real. Her opinion wavered. She was pretty certain he’d blow her up if he could.

  She was a ghost again. Duppy was ready for her. She threw herself aside, away from his spell. Her body spun a few times, but she stopped with her head up and feet down.

  She held out her palm, a sphere forming.

  Duppy did the same.

  He aimed and threw, just as she shot upward, and over, coming down behind him.

  “Hey Duppy,” Meghan called out. She didn’t wait for him to answer. As his head turned, she thrust the sphere right at him. It hit him head-on. He exploded; millions of tiny bits rained down over everything.

  She smiled. Satisfied.

  And then started to sink to the ground.

  The last of the ghostly energy failed. She plunked to the ground, human again. She made to stand up, but her legs faltered. “Guess I drained myself.” She forced herself up and leaned against one of the mud huts.

  The young man and his Catawitch eyed her. Meghan cringed at the sinister smile forged on both their faces. There was nowhere to run. She’d won against the ghosts, but she’d lost the book, hadn’t freed Timothy, or saved Ivan. He was still unconscious on the ground. All she’d accomplished was a delay of the inevitable.

  The young man raised his palm. She had no idea what he was about to do to her, but she held her chin high and refused to close her eyes or look away.

  The Catawitch hovering around his legs let out a warning meow.

  Meghan gasped when it charged at something.

  “Nona!” she cried out. Her loyal Catawitch hadn’t abandoned her after all. Nona was smaller, but no less vicious or determined in her attack. The young man in the cloak gave it no mind, unconcerned by the fighting cats. He edged closer to Meghan.

  Up above, over their heads, a bird fluttered in and landed atop one of the huts. Meghan gasped for the second time in just minutes. It was the same bird she had locked in the cage a few hours before.

  A hazy shimmer radiated around the bird and it took off in a dive, straight behind the cloaked young man. He hadn’t seen the bird and had his palm raised with a spell ready to throw at Meghan. She ignored it, her gaze firmly fixed on the bird diving behind him. Beams of light began pouring from the bird’s body, and then the most unexpected thing she could have imagined, happened!

  As the bird descended, its shape began shifting. The wings disappeared and human arms formed. Where there had been claws, now were feet. Tattered clothes replaced the feathers.

  A thunderous voice reverberated through the huts as the bird-human shouted a spell while landing with a firm thud. The spell hit the unsuspecting young man, knocking him to the ground. The book, the Magicante, flew across the ground landing near Meghan’s feet. His spell shot at her but skewed off to the side, missing her.

  He jumped back to his feet and scowled. “Elisha!” he called out to his Catawitch. “Let’s go!”

  “The book,” she reminded.

  “Not today. We’re leaving.”

  His Catawitch vaulted into a nearby fire pit. The boy dashed to her side, grasping her back, and they vanished, dissolving into the fire.

  “Oh. Wow.” Meghan couldn’t believe her eyes. Or that she was still alive. She took a few steps, her legs steadier. Nona bounded to her side and jumped into her arms. They touched noses, relieved that each other was okay. It was strange to be able to sense what the Catawitch was trying to tell her. Although, as she thought about it, not really. It wasn’t much different than how she and Colin communicated, except Nona didn’t use words. It was more like feelings or expressions that Meghan understood perfectly.

  “You knew? Didn’t you?” she asked Nona. “How? How did you know the bird was more than just a bird?”

  Nona meowed and jumped out of Meghan’s arms, glancing upward. There was a distinct sound of wings flapping. The bird-human had already shifted back into its bird form again. It sat atop one of the huts.

  “Who are you?” asked Meghan.

  It ruffled up its feathers in reply.

  “I wish you would tell me, so I could thank you properly. I guess, if you ever need anything, you know where my window is.”

  The bird winked mischievously at her, squawked, and then flew away.

  Meghan’s gaze dropped, landing on Ivan. He didn’t look good. He wasn’t moving. She ran over and tapped him gently on the face trying to wake him. There was no response. She knelt closer and discovered he was not breathing.

  “Oh my God. This... this can’t be happening. Ivan can’t be... dead.” Moments ago her own death seemed imminent, only to be saved by a miraculous bird-human. Now Ivan, who had risked his own life to save hers, lay on the ground, dead.

  The Magicante sat next to her on the ground.

  Nona pawed at the book.

  Do I dare open it?

  What can this book possibly do to help me?

  Ivan is dead!

  She pulled it out of the wrapping and flipped it open. She bit her lip and held back the tears stinging at her eyes.

  “Mr. Ancient Magic Guy, um, I could really use some help.”

  The book replied. Rather than snidely, darkly. Eagerly.

  “It’s about time you got around to something challenging. I assume from the dead boy’s body, you need a reawakening?”

  “What’s a reawakening?” Meghan asked timidly.

  “Watch, and learn,” it replied.

  The book started to shake violently in her hands; so much so, she could no longer hold on and let it fall to the ground. The leaves tore off the pages, shimmering and spiraling over Ivan like a tornado.

  Golden beams shot out from the leaves slicing into Ivan’s body. After a minute the tornado slowed, the golden beams faded, and the leaves reattached to the book, which promptly closed upon finishing.

  Meghan wasn’t sure what she expected as she leaned over Ivan’s unmoving body. She jerked backward with a rushed intake of air. Ivan drew in a deep living breath and his eyes flickered open.

  Meghan drew back in awed exaltation, beholding the Magicante with indescribable new reverence. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Don’t look so disappointed,” Ivan said in his usual rude manner. She blew it off, helping him up.

  “You’re not dead,” she cried.

  “No such luck today, Ms. Jacoby. Where did everyone go?” he asked, noticing they were alone and all was quiet.

  “Everyone left,” she answered, not wishing to explain further. Ivan saw the book lying on the ground and picked it up. Meghan worried he might keep it, or turn it over to the Viancourt. He had no idea it had just saved his life.

  “So this is what the battle was over? An old book. Magicante,” he read the title.

  Meghan decided, then and there, not to tell Ivan he had died, or that Magicante had brought him back to life. He laid the book down, rubbing the back of his head.

  “You wer
e thrown against a wall,” she explained, apologetically.

  “That part I remember.”

  “Uh, excuse me,” a small voice interrupted.

  “Timothy!” She ran to his cell. “How am I going to get you out?”

  Ivan strolled over. “And who might you be?”

  Timothy regaled Ivan with a long introduction, while Meghan attempted to loosen the door of his prison, to no avail.

  “Timothy,” she interrupted. “Who put you in this cell, a ghost or a living person?”

  “The one you were battling, I think. Alive for sure, it could have been...”

  “That’s okay, Timothy,” said Meghan, cutting him off, baffled at how a living person had done magic on him.

  “I can tell you the spell to open this door,” said Ivan. “But for some reason, I feel too weak to do it myself.”

  “I wonder why?” she mumbled under her breath. “What is the spell, Ivan?” she asked, determined to free Timothy.

  “Fenestra,” he answered.

  She repeated it twice.

  She poised herself and gathered the energy needed.

  I’m getting better at this, she thought, raising her hand, palm extended.

  “Fenestra.”

  It opened.

  She had done it.

  MEGHAN PICKED UP THE book. Nona and Timothy followed close by as they all followed Ivan out of the woods. Meghan found her sweater on the ground just outside the huts and used it to wrap up the book in.

  “Not that it matters at this point,” said Ivan. “But how did you get the book? And why did everyone leave?”

  “Everyone just took off. Couldn’t tell ya why,” she lied, winking at Timothy.

  He was getting good at keeping secrets, too. Ivan stopped and cast her a seriously frown. She said nothing more, just shrugged. He shook his head and dropped the subject.

  Soon, they arrived back at the old mill. Uncle Eddy wasn’t there so she left a message with Timothy, who set immediately to deliver it.

  “Be careful, Timothy. Don’t talk to any strangers.” Meghan had an enormous desire to get Ivan home, and checked out by the doctor. And to check on Colin, whose voice she had not heard since the beginning of the battle. What terrible timing it had been.

  “You go along without me,” said Ivan unexpectedly when they entered Bedgewood Harbor.

  “But you’re hurt,” she argued.

  “And what will I say happened to me?”

  “You fell.”

  “I have a friend I can see. Don’t worry. Go and check on your brother, tell him you got his precious book back.” He was not exactly smug, but not exactly nice either. He strode off in a direction of town she had never been to. Part of her wanted to follow him. She hoped Ivan could be trusted. He was probably pissed that she didn’t tell him the truth about what had happened.

  “He knows what he knows,” she resigned, continuing to the hospital.

  Meghan had hoped that the voice she had heard during the battle meant that Colin had come out of his coma. To her dismay, his condition had not changed.

  “I thought for sure I heard you, Colin. I got the book back, so don’t worry. Get better, okay.” She kissed his forehead and headed home.

  Her legs and brain were jelly. She needed a hot bath. Some sleep. For her brain to just shut down for a few hours. Maybe a heavy dose of something sweet.

  She followed Nona back to the Mochrie house and stumbled indoors.

  “There you are,” said Sheila. “I was hoping you would show soon. Not good to overdo it just because you’re feeling better.”

  Meghan almost laughed. I’ll try to remember that, she told herself.

  Sheila made a funny face and wrinkled her nose as Meghan walked passed her. Skunk rags. She didn’t have the energy to make up an excuse. These clothes might not be wearable again.

  It was good to be home, even if it wasn’t truly home. She bathed, ate, and sat downstairs, dozing while waiting for either Ivan or Jae to come home. Hours passed, and neither returned home that night.

  COLIN’S NOTHINGNESS turned to darkness. Then to light. Then to a dream. A gray colorless dream. He was standing in a forest of tree trunks. The trees were so tall he could not see the tops of them. And the trunks were so wide it took many steps to walk around them.

  Silver hair rounded the tree just ahead of him. He picked up his pace trying to catch up with the girl. He went around and around, at least three times he thought, before suddenly she was there, in front of him. She reached out and grasped his hand.

  “You’re shaking,” he whispered.

  “I don’t have long. They will discover I’ve gone.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Colin, gravely concerned for his dream girl.

  She inhaled quickly, her frame popping out of the woods. He called out but there was no reply. He ran around and around the tree trunk again, almost running into her when she popped back in front of him.

  “They knew,” she said frantically. “Somehow, the last time you found me. They knew someone had found me.”

  She vanished again, this time, popping in behind him.

  He whirled around, grabbing onto her shoulders in attempts to keep her there. It didn’t work.

  “I need your help,” she whispered, disappearing again.

  Colin hurried around the tree trunk, hoping she would return. She did.

  “Who are you?”

  “Catrina,” she replied. “And I need your help, Colin Jacoby, as much as you will need mine. You are the only one that can help me...”

  “How can I help you?” he begged to know. His hand fell through her body; it took on a ghostly form.

  Her eyes opened wide. “Please, don’t forget about me.” Quite viciously, her gray ghostly frame flew upwards into the nothingness, which pulled backwards like a veil being yanked away.

  Colin shouted and reached for her, but his dream changed. The gray dream world disappeared. He did not feel so heavy or lost. Air moved across his face.

  “I’m waking up,” he realized.

  A VOICE ECHOED IN MEGHAN’S head, waking her. She was slumped over in a chair. The voice echoed again, this time discernibly. She bolted upright.

  “Colin!”

  “I’m awake! They’ve sent someone to tell you. Knew I’d get to you first though.”

  “You’re really awake?” she questioned, grabbing her coat.

  “Yep, really awake.”

  “Going to wake everyone, they’ve all been so worried. I’ll be there quick as I can... Big Bro.”

  “Big Bro,” he snorted.

  “You are my big brother, technically speaking.”

  “What the heck happened while I was out?” he questioned.

  “Short version, I got the book back. I’ll tell you all about it later.” She bounded up the stairs, wanting to shout that Colin was awake, but first, sent a leaf to Uncle Eddy.

  “Colin is awake. Everything great! Will contact you soon.”

  She entered the bedroom where Mireya still slept and woke her gently.

  “What’s up?” she asked groggily.

  “Colin’s awake!”

  Mireya jumped up and down in her bed.

  “Yes! Thank goodness, that’s over. I’ll wake Mom and Dad.” Mireya ran downstairs to her parents’ room.

  Meghan knocked lightly on Ivan’s door, but there was no answer. She wondered where he had gone. She put it out of her mind, hightailing it down the stairs, just as a knock pounded on the front door. She answered it before anyone else had the chance, realizing it would be the messenger from the hospital.

  Oliver Stamm delivered the message on behalf of his father, the doctor. She acted as though she was hearing the information for the first time and thanked him.

  “What wonderful news,” said Sheila, emerging from her bedroom. “And right before Christmas.”

  Meghan, Sheila, and Mireya traipsed through the snow, which made progress slow. Halfway there, they ran into Jae. He looked as though he had
not slept, but had a smile on his face just the same.

  “Dad and I were on our way home when we got news that Colin was awake. I was on my way to make sure you knew.”

  “Yes, we found out a few minutes ago,” replied his mother, fixing his untidy hair. “Why didn’t you come home last night? I hope your father isn’t working you too hard,” she said as they walked.

  “We worked late and fell asleep at the office. Sorry, we should have sent a message.” Jae held his mother’s arm, keeping her steady over an ice patch as they reached the hospital entrance.

  Doctor Stamm’s tall silhouette leaned over Colin, along with Irving Mochrie, giving him a thorough exam. Meghan ran to her brother’s bed and hugged him until he could not breathe. She ignored the fact that the doctor and Colin were mid conversation.

  “My son Oliver tells me you are quite talented, Mr. Jacoby. I’m afraid my boy is always a bit distracted, loves to daydream too much.”

  “From what I’ve seen of Oliver, he does a great job,” said Colin. The doctor smiled and left his side, giving him a clean bill of health. The doctor and Irving stepped outside of the room to speak.

  “Don’t ever, ever, do that to me again,” Meghan demanded. Silently, she sent, “When I thought you were dead... it was like... it was like part of me died.”

  Colin blushed, unused to this kind of attention from his sister.

  “I promise to try to never get attacked again,” he sent back to her. She bit her lip to hold back a laugh.

  “How long will he have to stay?” Meghan asked Dr. Stamm when he came back into the room. The doctor mulled it over.

  “Normally after such an ordeal, at least a week. But, seeing as Christmas is almost here, maybe a few days will suffice, as long as he promises to rest.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” she said, relieved.

  “This will be a blessed Christmas,” said a teary-eyed Sheila. Jae sat down for a minute and fell asleep almost instantly.

  “Irving, you’re working the boy too hard,” Meghan overheard Sheila say.

  “It’s best this way, Sheila. We’ll discuss it later.”

  A messenger arrived, with a letter from Juliska Blackwell, addressed to Colin.