by Bonnie Lamer
Chapter 4
When I follow Kallen into the house, Grandma is already unzipping her suitcase. Geez, you’d think she’d at least wait until she was in the guest room. But then it starts to make more sense when I see what she’s pulling out. Apparently, it wasn’t just clothes that she packed.
“What is all this?” I ask as I look over the things she has set on the coffee table.
Grandma looks up from what she’s doing. “I’m sure you are familiar with some of these items, and I’ll explain the others…”
I hold up my hand to cut her off. “Before you start making assumptions about what I know and what I don’t, you should just assume that I don’t know it. I didn’t even know magic existed until last week, and the only magic I’ve used has been my Fairy magic.”
Grandma’s eyes are as big as platters. “You didn’t know that magic exists?” She turns her dumbfounded expression towards Mom, and if ghosts could blush from embarrassment, Mom would be.
“I thought I was keeping her safe from the magical world. I had no idea that as soon as she turned seventeen, the Fairies would come looking for her.” And then grudgingly, she adds, “If Kallen hadn’t taught her to use her Fairy magic, she may not have survived.”
Whoa, Mom used Kallen’s name. She must be ready to trust him if she’s not worrying about saying his name anymore. If we survive the next few days, maybe everything will work out between him and my parents. That’s a big if on the surviving part.
Grandma moves her eyes to Kallen. “You must have taken quite a risk coming here to fight against your own kind.”
“It was the Pooka who came to this realm to do harm. They are neither my kin nor my kind,” Kallen replies evenly.
Grandma has the decency to look at least a little embarrassed by her insult. Inclining her head, she says, “Of course. I apologize for not distinguishing between you being a Sheehogue Fairy rather than a Pooka.”
Returning to the conversation about my magical ignorance, she asks me, “You have not used any type of spell?”
I shake my head. “No.” But then I remember the healing spell that Mom and I did for Kallen. “Unless you count combining my saka with Mom to make a mana.” I stumble over the unfamiliar words. “But Mom worked the actual spell and had Aunt Barb mix the plants for the salve.”
Grandma smiles. “I believe you mean using your mana to create a saka.”
Okay, so I’m not going to pass the pop quiz on magical terms. “Can we just call it magic like the Fairies do? It’s a lot less confusing that way.”
Grandma nods and says kindly, “That is an excellent suggestion.”
“When we combined our mana…I mean magic,” Mom corrects herself, “to heal Kallen from a wound created by iron, I was not a strong enough vessel to channel her magic. Once it was focused on his wound, I had to let go.”
Grandma looks confused. “What do you mean by not a strong enough vessel?”
“Her magic burns hot and fast,” Kallen explains. “And she draws more magic than any other magical being I have come across. It can’t be channeled by another without causing physical harm; it feels like being burned from the inside out. And it is impossible to contain it if she loses control.” He glances sideways at me. I’m pretty sure he’s vividly remembering all the times he tried to contain my magic. I give him my best ‘I’m sorry’ look.
Mom nods in agreement. “She healed his wound almost instantly.”
Grandma looks stunned as her eyes float back to me. “Healed? Completely? I’ve never heard of such a thing; iron does massive internal damage to a Fairy. How is that possible?”
I shrug. “I just did what Mom told me to do. I visualized his wound healing. And then it healed.”
Grandma shakes her head. “Unbelievable. You are certainly a remarkable young woman.” She pats the spot next to her on the couch. “Please, join me and I will explain what I’ve brought with me.”
I hesitate. I’m still not feeling warm and fuzzy about her; and the idea of sitting next to her on the couch is not thrilling. What if one of those things is a Witch Bottle like Mom has planted all over? Who knows what god awful things this stuff could do to me. I glance at Kallen who is now leaning one shoulder against the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his feet crossed at the ankles.
“It’s all defensive magic,” he says as if he was reading my mind.
“Xandra, give your grandmother a chance, please,” Mom rebukes gently.
“Fine, it’s just my life we’re playing with,” I grumble under my breath as I walk to the couch.
“And I have every intention of keeping you alive,” Grandma says with what I would probably think was a nice smile if I wasn’t so on edge. She’s not going to win me over with a smile. She doesn’t seem to realize that, though, because she’s still smiling even though I’m sure that it’s written all over my face that I don’t trust her. But, I sit down next to her anyway. Well, I sit at the other end of the couch, so there’s at least two feet between us, but at least I’m on the same piece of furniture as she is.
“Why don’t we start with something simple,” Grandma says as she picks up a small leather pouch. “We’ll make a mojo bag for you to wear. It will help protect your person from magic which causes a physical attack, deflecting the attack back towards the Witch responsible.”
My brow scrunches. “You mean like Witches’ bottles?”
Grandma nods. “Yes, if a Witch bottle explodes around you while you are wearing the mojo bag, it will flare to life and cause a, for lack of a better word, a force field around you, sending the spell back to the one who used it. But, it may only be used once so you will need several of them.”
“Okay,” I say taking the leather pouch that she’s holding out to me. “I’m supposed to put stuff in it?” Kallen smirks and I shoot him a dirty look. He takes great amusement in my magical ignorance.
Grandma doesn’t make fun of me, though. Okay, that’s one brownie point for her. “Yes, you will put an assortment of items in it that are known for their protective properties. Then you will say a spell that binds their collective power and holds it until needed. This is considered low magic – magic that invokes an item’s natural power. It’s also called Earth magic.”
Hmm, and I thought Kallen was a walking encyclopedia of Witch magic. She’s explaining things nicer than he usually does, but she’s still making me feel like I’m in school. I hope the entire day doesn’t go like this. I’m better at learning by trial and error rather than learning by rote. Though, my trial and error with magic has led to some pretty disastrous consequences. Maybe I should just shut up and pay attention.
Looking at the assortment of herbs, stones, jewelry, and other things I can’t name, I ask in an attempt to speed this along, “What first?”
“You will need to use several herbs and stones. The first will be yarrow. It’ll provide protection as well as boost your self-confidence.”
“She is definitely not lacking self-confidence. You may want to start with something that will lessen her self-confidence,” Kallen teases from his position against the wall.
Other than me throwing him a quick dirty look, Grandma and I both choose to ignore him. “The yarrow is the feathery looking leaves right there.” I pick up the leaf she’s pointing at and put it in the bag. She then has me put in nettle and vervain leaves, whatever those are, and a small onyx stone. The last item is a pinch of salt. I hope that doesn’t mean I’m going to have to eat this stuff.
“Now, cinch the bag closed and you’ll recite the protection spell.” Turning to Mom, she asks, “Where might I find your grimoire?”
My face turns bright red when Mom says, “I no longer have it.”
Grandma’s face is shocked, to say the least. Apparently, a Witch is naked without her grimoire. “Did you lose it in your travels?”
“No, I did.” I confess. “I caused an avalanche and it got buried in the cave Kallen and I were staying in at the time.
Now G
randma looks really confused. “Avalanche? Cave?”
“The details aren’t really important, are they?” Dad asks impatiently. “Can’t you just write the spell down for her?”
“Of course.” Trying to recover her composure, Grandma searches her purse for a pen and a small pad of paper and begins to write. When she’s done, she hands it to me. “Now, just hold the bag close to you and while saying the spell, imagine a defensive wall coming up around you.”
“Okay,” I say as I take the paper and look it over skeptically. Not like I’d know whether or not it’s the real deal.
I open my mouth to begin but Kallen interrupts me. “You may want to move away from her,” Kallen says to Grandma. His mouth is upturned in an amused smirk again. I really want to stick my tongue out at him, but I refrain. I don’t even comment back like I normally would. I let my eyes do the talking.
Grandma looks at him impatiently. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Turning back to me, she says, “Go ahead, dear.”
It seems appropriate for me to stand up because I feel like I’m giving a formal presentation, or an audition, since all eyes are riveted on me. Taking a deep breath, I imagine a cinderblock wall all around me and begin to read, “Herb and stone, heart and mind, with my will may all combine. Protect my body, my life, my soul, from forces dark who strike first blow. Evil magic based in sin, sent back before it can begin. Those in my heart will be unharmed, by this Witch’s protective charm.” And then there’s a loud explosion.
Grandma is suddenly across the room in a heap. Right under where there used to be a picture window. And next to where there used to be a door but is now a couch embedded in the wall. The coffee table must have gone out the window because it just isn’t around anymore. The recliner is sticking out of the fireplace. And I’m taking all this in through the haze of a transparent cinderblock wall that forms a six foot perimeter around me and goes up to the ten foot ceiling. My eyes search for Kallen, hoping I haven’t hurt him, but he’s standing in the same spot with a smug smile on his face.
“Guess that answers that question,” he says triumphantly.
It takes my befuddled brain a minute for that to make sense. Those in my heart will be unharmed. Blood rushes to my face as I realize my subconscious just told us both how I feel about him. Instead of acknowledging that, I ask, “What happened? It wasn’t supposed to do this, right?” Okay, I know that’s a really stupid question, but my mind is a little fuzzy right now.
Kallen chuckles as he pushes off from the wall. “No, it was not.”
I turn to Mom to ask her what I did wrong and her mouth is in a perfect o. I don’t think she knows what happened, either. Dad looks really freaked out. Kallen seems to be the only one who isn’t in shock, or unconscious. “What went wrong?” I ask.
He walks towards me, still laughing and shaking his head, and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Nothing went wrong, my little Witch Fairy. You did everything correctly.”
I look around at the destruction that used to be our living room. “Then why does the house look like a tornado stormed through it?” I should probably go and check on Grandma, but I’m a little scared to go near her after tossing her across the room. So, I’m going to assume from afar that she’s fine. She seems to be breathing okay.
Kallen chuckles again. “How aptly put. You are a tornado personified.”
The shock is wearing off and now I’m getting annoyed. “Will you please just answer my question?”
“This,” he sweeps his hand out to encompass the room, “is what happens when what should have been a gentle summer breeze is replaced by a tornado.”
I still don’t get it. I’m probably being obtuse, but good lord, I just blew up the living room! I’m a little bit overwhelmed right now. Narrowing my green eyes, I look into his. “If you don’t stop laughing at me and answer my question, I’m going to blow you up next.”
Of course, he doesn’t take me seriously, but he does answer my question. “The average witch would be the gentle summer breeze. The spell would have been cast, the mojo bag would have been properly stored for future use, and the Witch would have gone on her merry way. But if you replace the gentle summer breeze with a tornado, you create a spell so large that it cannot be contained by a tiny little leather pouch. Therefore, instead of being stored, the spell is cast out. And where a normal Witch would have created a thin wall around herself, your wall is a hundred times thicker and needs more space. To make room, it removed all obstacles except for those you specifically told it not to harm.”
“Oh.” What else is there to say to that?
“Are you saying that she can’t perform spells? She is half Witch,” Mom says. There’s some defensiveness in her voice.
Kallen turns his eyes to her and Dad, who have not moved from where they were floating before I worked the spell. He shakes his head. “No, I am saying that the outcome of a spell that Xandra casts will be a hundred times greater than it was meant to be.”
“And you couldn’t have said something before she worked the spell and destroyed the living room?” Mom’s voice isn’t defensive anymore, it’s angry.
Kallen inclines his head. “Would you have believed me if you had not seen it with your own eyes?”
Mom’s lips move as if she’s about to say something, but apparently she thinks better of it. After a moment, she finally admits, “No.”
Across the room, Grandma starts to stir. Her eyes open and she takes in the room; and then her eyes turn to me. Is that concern in them – or fear? She tries to stand up, but it seems her ankle must have gotten twisted and she sits back down. “So much power in one so young is dangerous,” she says to the room.
“I did warn you,” Kallen points out.
Grandma gives him a tired look. “Yes, you did. But my pride wouldn’t listen.” She smiles weakly. “I’m lucky that it didn’t get me more than a twisted ankle and a headache.”
“If it had been a truly dangerous spell, I would not have let you teach it to her.”
I look up at him as I place my hands on my hips. “What do you mean, you wouldn’t let her? Just because you were the first one to teach me things doesn’t mean that you have full rein over my magical education.”
Both of his eyebrows raise and I know he’s going to say something condescending that’s going to make me even madder. “And what basis from your vast magical experience will you use to determine if a spell is safe or not?” Okay, he has me there, even if he is being a jerk again. Before I can say anything, he continues, “It makes more sense for someone who is versed in Witch magic, and has experienced your magic first hand, to determine the ramifications of a spell spoken by you.”
I scrunch my face up in what I hope looks like disgust. “You know, my father is right over there.” I nod my head in Dad’s direction. “I don’t need another one.”
“Believe me, I have no desire to be your father.” The curve of his lips and the fire in his eyes tells me that he really doesn’t want to be my dad. Again, a blush crawls up my neck to my face. Now I’m flustered and tongue tied; which I’m sure is what he intended.
Dad clears his throat in the awkward silence. “Yes, well, now that you’ve established that you only have one father, I’ll give my opinion. I believe Kallen is right. He has the best idea of all of us what you are capable of, so he should have final say in what spells you do.” Great, the father/boyfriend bonding has created a brain trust that will decide what I can and cannot do. They can go back to hating each other any time now.
I glare at both of them but Kallen look s amused and Dad pretends not to notice as he continues. “But, before any of that is decided, we need to figure out what we’re going to do about the door and window. It gets awfully cold in these mountains at night.” Of course, he and Mom don’t have to worry about that, but the rest of us do.
Kallen looks a little less cocky, but still self-possessed, as he turns to Dad. “Of course. If Xandra will let down her wall, I can reverse the damage she has don
e,” he says making me sound like a five year old who broke a lamp and now he has to clean it up. He and I are going to have a long talk about his attitude when we have some time alone. Or maybe I’m just being too whiny and defensive because of my magic going all wonky again. Yeah, probably that.
Grandma looks at him doubtfully. “You are able to perform reversal magic?”
“Yes, I am.”
Grandma actually looks impressed now, though she looks like she’s trying hard not to. I look away from her and turn to Kallen. “Can all Fairies do that?” If so, maybe I can do it, too. It would be nice to be able to clean up my own messes.
He shakes his head of silky black hair that got mussed by the explosion, the only effect on him, making it look even better. I’d love to run my fingers through it. But I’m going to ignore that desire right now. I have to focus on the situation at hand. Besides, that would be more than a little awkward with my parents and grandmother right here.
