by Karen Mead
“I don’t know Ser, she seems pretty sharp to me.“
“Moving on,” said Serenus, switching his attention back to Georgette. “Sam here would like to create an original spell for his familiar, but he is very new to spellcraft. I immediately thought of you.”
The woman didn’t put down her knitting, but it was obvious from the sudden intensity in her voice that she was now all business. “What kind of spell do you need?”
“I want to enchant a pair of earrings so that I can’t read her mind while she’s wearing them,” said Sam quickly before Serenus could reply. He wasn’t a child anymore; he could explain himself. However, when she turned a disapproving gaze on him, he rapidly wished he hadn’t spoken.
“And why would you want to do that? Tryink to ged de both of you kilt, are you?” she snapped, her Eastern European accent getting thicker by the second.
While Sam fumbled for a response, Ser addressed him quietly. “She’s of the old school, she believes master and servant should share everything. It’s not the kind of thing—”
“Don’t you zay ‘old skool’ to me, iz common sense,” she snapped. Apparently she had been able to hear Serenus’ whisper, even over the questionable connection. “We share everything because we are one. To say different iz….” She seemed to struggle for the right word. “As my grandsons would say, it iz lame; it iz ‘fail.’”
“Be that as it may,” said Serenus, obviously trying to keep laughter out of his voice. “The girl wants her privacy, and Sam would like to give it to her. I assume it can be done?”
At that, the old woman seemed to relax somewhat, her accent returning to only the mildest hint as though she’d turned a switch. “I suppose. It shouldn’t be a difficult spell to make, no matter how foolish. How is your cupboard?”
Serenus grinned. “Well-stocked. I made sure to get a proper witch’s pantry in here after our adventure in the fall.”
“Good. Get your cauldron boiling, while I go look at my notes to double check some things. I will be right back.” At that, she rose gracefully from her chair, shockingly nimble for a woman of her wizened appearance.
He was expecting Serenus to come back from the kitchen with a hotplate, so his jaw dropped when the professor returned with a small, black, cast-iron cauldron. “You have an actual cauldron?”
“She insists that all spellcraft should be done in one; I thought it unwise to protest.” He gestured to the tepid water inside the pot, and Sam mouthed a word and flicked a finger to quickly raise the temperature. Making things hot was something he’d always been good at.
The older man smirked as the water reached a rolling boil in a few seconds. “I never imagined being able to pull off powerful magic, but I often find myself wishing I could do little things like that.”
Sam shrugged; he had no idea what to say in response to that. Serenus was only a quarter-demon on his mother’s side, which put him at a disadvantage in the strange and mysterious world of demonic genetics. If his paternal grandfather had been the demon, then he might have inherited powers through his father. However, for reasons they still didn’t completely understand, women didn’t inherit demonic powers, but their male children sometimes showed echoes of their otherworldly ancestor. With his remarkable nose for magic, Serenus was a stronger echo than most, but he could only cast the most basic of spells, and even then he required preparation to do it.
“I have it,” said Georgette, quickly settling back into place. “Son of Sammael, prick your finger and squeeze nine drops of blood into the cauldron.”
Sam was puzzled. “Blood? Not essence?” he asked. He’d only crafted a few magical items in his life, and each time they had called for essence.
“Did I zay essence?” she snapped, her accent threatening to make a comeback. “For this spell, you are almost making a weapon against yourself: weakening your own powers where de girl is concerned. So you must start by hurting yourself.”
Serenus began to head back towards the kitchen to fetch a knife, but Sam motioned for him to stop. Instead, he pulled his pocket knife out of his jeans and cut a gash in his index finger, squeezing the required blood into the cauldron. The water immediately took on a dark hue; Sam’s blood was normally red, but perhaps it was turning black in preparation for the spell. It was sobering to think how much of his own biology was alien to him.
“Next, you will need onyx,” said Georgette. That made sense; even with Sam’s limited knowledge of gems and minerals and their use in magic, he knew that onyx was used as a blocker. Serenus quickly produced a jewelry box filled with generous chunks of dozens of precious stones and tossed in a few onyx chunks with a casual flick of his wrist. Sam didn’t even want to think about what the contents of the box must cost.
“Now, pick a stone to represent her. It can be her birthstone, or just a stone that makes you think of her.”
Sam frowned; he didn’t know her birthstone. Actually, he should probably do something about that if he knew what was good for him. Serenus knew without being told that Sam had no idea when Cassie’s birthday was. “Any ideas?”
“Sapphire,” said Sam quickly. “Like her eyes.”
“Are you sure?” asked Serenus. “Once you pick a stone to represent your familiar, it’s best not to change it.”
“I’m sure.” Serenus nodded and dropped a small handful of sapphires into the brew. It began to hiss with a sound that sent a shiver up Sam’s spine, almost as though a woman was sharply drawing in her breath.
“Good; you have already connected the spell with her,” said Georgette, smiling over her knitting. “The last ingredient is mint. Don’t be stingy Zeitbloom, it is important.”
Serenus shrugged and emptied a small cloth bag of mint leaves into the cauldron, which then began to simmer with tiny green and black bubbles. This was the part of that always lost Sam; he understood how gems, with their stores of primal energy, could be manipulated to serve the caster’s purpose, but the herbs had always mystified him. How a little bit of innocuous plant matter somehow tied the whole spell together was something he had never understood, no matter how many times Serenus had tried to explain it to him.
“That’s all the ingredients? It’s a simpler spell than I would have thought,” said Serenus.
“The best ones are always simple. Now, the final part,” said Georgette with gusto. However she might disagree with the object of this spell, she certainly seemed to be enjoying orchestrating it. “You must drop the baubles in, then imbue the brew with the purpose of the spell.”
At Sam’s puzzled expression, Serenus explained. “Tap into your own magic and put it in the brew, all while thinking about what the earrings should be able to do. You can vocalize it, if you think it would help.”
“No thanks. Next thing you know, you’ll be asking me to rhyme,” said Sam.
“Perish the thought.”
“That is all the help you should need, and it is getting late. I turn off the computer now?” said Georgette. Sam was surprised she didn’t want to stay for the grand finale, but it was getting close to midnight.
“Yes of course, and thank you so much for all your help; we never would have known what to do without you,” said Serenus, turning to face the laptop one more time.
Georgette smiled wickedly. “Oh, I know,” she said, then exited the chat.
Serenus closed his laptop, turning only his head to look at Sam as he did so. “Ready?” he asked quietly.
Sam nodded. First, he took the earrings out of their plastic case and dropped them into the mixture, rather enjoying the small plopping sounds they made as they fell. Taking a deep breath, he put his hands on the rim of the cauldron and reached with his mind for the part of himself he kept locked away; the part he had spent years trying to forget was even there.
All the time he had spent trying to forget had been fruitless, as he found his inner self submerged in a pool of blackness, faster than he could blink. It was always there, just beneath the surface, no matter how much he tried not t
o think about it. If he was honest with himself, he would have to admit that it might not only be below the surface. Sometimes he felt like he saw the whole world through an inky black veil.
Magic that is mine to call, imbue these jewels with the power to protect Cassie’s mind, he thought. He shuddered and fought a sudden, violent urge to throw up; clearly, that was the wrong way to conceptualize it.
Really, he should have known better.
“Sam?” asked Serenus, worried. Sam signaled that he was alright without opening his eyes and tried again.
Magic that is mine to call, with this spell I poke two holes in my own mind’s eye. These jewels will weaken me, so that the thoughts of she who wears them will have no reflection in me. He knew as soon as he formed the thought that he had found the right compromise; the blackness would accept it. Begrudgingly perhaps, but it was good enough.
He kept his eyes closed as the magic started to flow into the water; he didn’t want to see what effect it would have on the brew. At first, he was careful to only let a small thread of magic through, however for an instant he lost concentration—thinking about how Cassie’s eyes really did have the color of sapphires—and before he knew it, he was drowning in a well of his own making.
Yes, the girl with the sapphire eyes is mine. I’ll cover every inch of her body with bespelled jewels if that’s what it takes. Let her think her mind is safe, never knowing….
Feeling lightheaded, he slammed a wall in between the pool of shadows and his everyday existence, barely catching himself on the edge of the table before he fell forward into the cauldron. Chest heaving, he slowly opened his eyes when he was confident that his hastily prepared wall would hold.
Serenus, looking even paler than usual, had taken a step back from the table. “How bad was it?” he asked.
Sam just shook his head; he didn’t even know anymore. He felt so lost every time the blackness consumed him, he had no way of comparing the experiences. Had that just been a normal, albeit unintended jaunt to the other side, or had he really almost lost control? It was maddening, not knowing.
As his breathing slowed, he dropped his eyes to the floor; he was afraid to look in the cauldron right now. “Why did she make me this way?” he asked quietly. Serenus knew he wasn’t talking about Cassie.
“She just wanted what was best for you, Sam. She couldn’t have known—”
“Of course she knew!” Sam snapped, drawing himself up to his full height.
But once he had straightened, he felt all his energy wane, like there was no point to fighting with Serenus or anyone else. “She knows everything. She knows everything,” he muttered, feeling helpless.
To his credit, Serenus didn’t answer; he knew as well as Sam did that Helen was the most calculating creature on the face of the earth, and perhaps beyond. Whatever Sam was, it was because the woman who had given birth to him had willed it to be so.
CHAPTER TEN
They were doing the poetry unit in first period honors English, which Cassie could do without. As far as she was concerned, creativity was nice, but punctuation was invented for a reason. At least Golding wasn’t one of those teachers who made you read out loud all the time.
Their teacher, bless him, was of the sort that picked mostly short poems and read them aloud to the class himself. He cut an attractive figure, standing at the front of the class holding their textbook in one large hand. With his towering height, olive complexion and leonine mane of golden brown hair, he had long been designated “the hot teacher,” at Silver Crown Academy, something he did a good job of pretending he was oblivious to.
Or at least, Cassie hoped he was pretending to be oblivious: no one could be that blind when 95 percent of the students who came to him for extra help were girls.
He cleared his throat, and soon his resonant bass brought the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson to life.
“The sense of the world is short,
Long and various the report,
To love and be beloved;
Men and gods have not outlearned it;
And how oft soe’er they’ve turned it,
Not to be improved.
“So,” he said, putting down the book and placing his hands in the pockets of his gray slacks, a common habit of his, “Madison, what is Emerson saying?”
“Um, he’s saying that love is a great thing?” said the blonde girl sitting two rows behind Cassie. Madison Clarke was a good student, but like Cassie, she had a difficult time when the subject turned to anything resembling old-timey language.
Cassie rolled her eyes. If Emerson had wanted to say that love was grand, why didn’t he just come out and say it?
Golding smiled, flashing his white teeth. Cassie thought the man must use whitening toothpaste twice a day. “Is that all?” He acknowledged another student behind Cassie with a lazy wave of his arm, which Cassie soon realized was Mike.
“He’s saying that love is the same for men and for gods,” said Mike confidently. “Even if you’re dealing with a god who has superpowers, they fall in love just as easily as an average person.” He nudged Cassie gently in the back with a knuckle, which she made a concentrated effort to ignore.
“I believe you’re right Mr. Trepkowski, but what intrigues me is this ‘report’ Emerson speaks of,” said Golding, pacing in front of the whiteboard. “What do you think he’s referring to?”
In the middle of his question, the bell rang. As everyone began to put their textbooks back in their bags, Golding called out over the noise. “Read through page 96 for tomorrow, and think about the poem; we’ll return to it briefly tomorrow.”
Cassie was about to follow Mike and Jay into the hall when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. When she turned, she was surprised to see Mr. Golding towering over her.
“Ms. Tremblay,” he said, “Can you stay behind for one minute?”
“Sure,” she said, straightening her bookbag on her back. “What is it?”
Golding looked over her head, watching the other students file out of the room for a moment. When the room was empty enough to suit him, his hazel eyes returned to hers. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah everything’s fine. Why?” she asked, puzzled. Other than the fact that she’d run out of Golding’s class once last fall when Sam had summoned her to his side, Golding had no reason to suspect any of the upheaval in her life. She was careful to keep her grades up.
“It’s just…” he looked down, seemingly struggling for the right words. “Cassie,” he said softly. Cassie started; from him, it was always “Ms. Tremblay.” The fact that he was calling her by her first name couldn’t be a good sign.
“I know I’m not your guidance counselor, but if there’s anything going on in your life—anything at all—I want you to know that you can tell me,” he said. He looked over her shoulder again to check that the room had emptied out, and when his gaze returned to her, the look in his hazel eyes was almost pleading. “Even if it’s something you can’t tell many people.”
Cassie suddenly felt dizzy. He hadn’t said anything specific, but between his words and the way he was looking at her, she was pretty sure Golding knew something. Whether he knew that she was a demon’s familiar and everything that entailed was another story.
“Thanks, Mr. Golding,” she stuttered. “I’m—“
“Call me John,” he said, shocking her further. He ran a hand through his thick hair. “Not in class obviously, but when it’s just us it’s fine.”
Cassie blinked. He wanted her to call him by his first name? What was going on?
“Th-thanks Mr…. John, but I’m fine. I’m just a little stressed because of the SATs, that’s all,” she stammered finally.
He shrugged, clearly not interested in the upcoming test. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
“Well there’s fine and then there’s Harvard-fine,” said Cassie, avoiding his eyes. She wanted this conversation to be over, but didn’t know how to delicately extricate herself.
“That�
�s true. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I’m here for you. I won’t keep you from your next class,” he said, turning back toward his desk. Clearly dismissed, Cassie left the classroom bewildered.
Mike and Jay were waiting for her in front of her locker.
“What did Golding want?” asked Mike, curiosity obvious in his light blue eyes.
“He knows,” said Cassie, fixing them both with a grave look so there could be no doubt what she meant. Jay’s eyes widened, and she saw Mike’s Adam’s Apple wobble as he swallowed.
“Okay, but what does he know?”
“That’s the problem.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Since there hadn’t been any banging the night before, Sam was hopeful on Thursday morning that whatever had been living in his wall had found a way out sometime the previous day. However, when he was halfway through the set of 100 sit-ups that he did every morning (the push-ups had been uneventful) he heard the ominous banging behind his headboard once again.
He finished his workout and stood up, reaching for the phone. He punched one button for the hospitality desk.
“Yes?”
“Hi, it’s room 3B again. Listen, the noises in my wall haven’t gone away, I was wondering if you could send someone to come check it out?”
There was a pause. “You want change room?” said the woman, her voice thick with some accent Sam couldn’t pin down.
“No, I don’t want to change rooms. I like this room. I just want someone to come take a look at—“
“Mr. Li go home, you can have 2C. Want room 2C?”
“No, I don’t want room 2C. Isn’t there a maintenance guy you can send up? I think it might be a raccoon or something.”
Another pause. “I sorry, if you wan’ move 2C you call back okay?” She hung up. Sam muffled a swear and did the same.
Whatever his new “roommate” was, he was just going to have to deal with it. After marking this room with magical smut, he didn’t want to change rooms and risk marking anywhere else. Besides, it was the principal of the thing: it was his room, and he had his stuff (what little stuff he had) laid out just the way he liked it. He shouldn’t have to leave because they had a pest problem.
