by Zari Reede
I shook my head. “I can’t decide if you will be an actress or a detective.”
“Both!”
“What did you see, Sammy,” Frizzy demanded.
Sammy clapped her hands. “Mommy can do magic! Ta-da!”
“Honey, are you sure you weren’t sleep-walking or playing make-believe?” Weirdville just keeps getting weirder.
“Positive. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye, honest.” She drew an imaginary cross on her chest.
“It stands to reason,” Frizzy rationalized. “If the child and the father are capable of magic, there is a strong possibility that the mother is also capable.”
I laughed. “What are you talking about, Frizzy? If I could do magic, I would have flown out of the castle instead of borrowing the oxen.”
“The drawbridge opened and closed for you twice. Rapunzel’s magic is limited to inside the tower, so your magic raised and lowered the drawbridge. I do not understand why you received no training.”
“Nobody on Earth has magic...well, not real magic.”
“Hmmm...” Frizzy rubbed her chin. “Perhaps people are not the only thing traveling during a Blink.”
I caught on faster this time. “You think the magic from here is Blinking to Earth?”
“It would account for the occurrences.”
Chapter 18
Mindy
Little Big Foot was playing a game of Whack-A-Mole over the kitchen counter, smashing hand-painted porcelain cups and the matching teapot with his pitch fork. Aunt Sue would be devastated to see her gift from England smashed to smithereens. I cringed as he walked through the open pantry door, banging away at the dry goods lining the shelf. At least we could easily replace those items. I looked at Winnalea and asked, “What should we do?”
She tiptoed over and shut the door. Then she dragged a stool from the counter and wedged it under the pantry knob.
“That should buy us a few minutes,” she said with a sigh.
I looked at her with doubt written all over my face. That was one big kid.
“His big mitts have long claws and can’t turn the small things you use to open the doors. He will need time to figure out he can plow through.” Winni tapped her head with a finger and smiled. “He may be big, but he isn’t exactly the top jilinda player of Ortharos.”
I guessed jilinda must be some intellectual game since she chortled at her own joke. I laughed at her giggling, as she held the small pantry door, with a no less than two-hundred-pound Cyclops behind it. This brownie had cojones, I would give her that.
“What a mess! What in heavens are the two of you doing?” Mom sounded incredulous as she stood in the doorway. Oh crap!
“Rats, Grandmum,” Winnalea supplied with a deadpan expression. It sounded as if an entire shelve of can goods had just collapsed in the pantry, and we paused. With a dubious expression pasted on her face, Mom set her arms akimbo.
“A really big one,” I added lamely, as another shelf exploded.
“Mindy, shouldn’t we call an exterminator?”
My mom looked like she had just asked where my homework was. I giggled, and Winni joined me. My forlorn mom worried over the suspected, teacup-crashing rat. Imagine if she knew about the Cyclops in the closet.
“Really, Melinda. This is no laughing matter. Rats carry diseases, and it sounds like an infestation. I’m going right down to the hardware store to buy traps.” She grabbed her purse in the hallway on the way out and slammed the front door as she left. After knocking for a solid twenty minutes, the bangs in the pantry subsided. When the sounds of the destruction died away, I heard the Cyclops prince whimpering on the other side of the door and a scratching noise made by his claws as he tried to turn the knob.
I looked at Winnalea. “He’s from Ortharos and you sorta know him. Please try to calm him before he demolishes the entire apartment complex. Are Cyclopes always so...” I waved my hand at the general damage and floating feathers.
“Aye. They are a passionate race. The males in particular. The Cyclops have been negotiating a peace treaty with Princess Phrysia and her parents. I dinnae ken much about Cyclops, but I druther get vituals in him before he finds something else to eat.” She opened a bag of chips and upended it into a large bowl. She studied it for a few seconds, nodded her head, and poured in yet another bag.
Uh oh. Remembering shooting the giant Cyclops, I decided to confide in Winni. “Um, I may have killed another Cyclops, but he was bigger than any ORB I have ever seen. He would have had to duckwalk through the doorway.” I whispered. With a look of horror, Winni backed away from me as I tried to explain. “He appeared in my bed! He tried to kill me!”
“That’s nae a wee mess you’re in, Mums.” Frowning, Winni shook her head. “The largest Cyclops male is always the King. I feel for ye and the dear prince if it’s the king ye have killed. You see, the real power of the Cyclops throne is the queen. She is surely a’frettin’ now with the wee one vanished and his da.” She looked at the door and lowered her voice. “If he is dead, she will be awful with grief.”
“What a mess. I’ve got to get to work, Winni. Can you watch him until I get back? Maybe he could play with Sammy’s sturdier toys.”
I heard the door open and close then my mother rushed in laden with bags. “I didn’t know how many traps to get and I got a few groceries. It seems you are always running out of necessities like bread or milk. What would you do without me, dear?”
“Mom, I just bought groceries.” Grabbing her elbow, I pulled her toward the living room, but she wouldn’t budge.
“I got non-perishables, of course.” She peered at me and saw my distress. “What’s wrong?”
Before I could respond, the prince let out a loud wail.
“Melinda! Did you put Sammy in the pantry?” She thrust the groceries into my arms, marched to the door, and before I could do more than gape, tugged the stool away, and yanked it open. I’m not sure who was more shocked. The door opened and the boy crouched on the floor chewing on his thumb-talon.
“Melinda Marie! What is going on?”
The prince sniffled and wiped his nose with his arm but my mom grabbed his wrist, which was the size of my mom’s biceps, whisked out a handkerchief, and held it over his nose. “Blow,” she ordered. When he looked confused, she tweaked his honker. I guess he got it because he obeyed. Then she tugged him upright, did a double-take at his size, but patted the seat of the stool and pointed to him. To my utter astonishment, he sat. Maybe it’s my mom’s graying hair and respect for one’s elders that got him to behave. At that point, I didn’t care as long as he behaved.
“Ummm...this is Winni’s handicapped nephew.”
Mom checked the room. “Where’s Sammy?”
I wish I knew where she was too. I was sick to my stomach thinking of my little girl alone--or worse, surrounded by angry one-eyed people. I didn’t know what to say, but inspiration hit.
“She’s with Jim. He’s sick too. He thought it best to avoid exposing me.”
“Then where is Jim?” She crossed her arms and tapped her toe as she waited for my answer.
This day was taxing. I grieved my family’s absence, worried about getting fired from my job, and questioned my ability to protect Winni from ISMAT. Mom would just have to be mind- wiped. I sighed, resigned to fess up.
“Look, Melinda. It’s hard to raise a family. All couples experience stress at times, but is this the time to separate? An ORB cleans your house and another sits at your kitchen counter. This isn’t the time to fall apart. Family first, ISMAT second!” Mom’s brows knitted as she frowned at me. “Didn’t I teach you anything?”
She knows about ISMAT and ORBs? “Mom?”
“All those years you thought I worked as a private school teacher, didn’t you ever wonder why you weren’t enrolled there? All children in New Orleans are tested for that school, Mindy. Those exhibiting skills necessary for an ISMAT career attend the school. It’s a subcategory of ISMAT. We never disclosed
this to the parents or children, but the top students become agents. I didn’t want you to attend, because I wanted you to have a normal life, out of danger.” Mom sighed and looked defeated. “But typical of my daughter, you drew attention to yourself every time you came to visit and the chief at the time was determined you should join his team.”
I lifted my arms in wonder. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“As part of the training, you are tested to see how tight-lipped you can remain. I finally gave in and let them approach you after they mind-wiped you the last time. Who knows what that nonsense does to your brain? I was afraid if I didn’t give in, they would turn you into a vegetable. Really, Melinda, what was I supposed to do, pretend a Cyclops in the pantry is normal? The house-cleaning brownie may be a midget, but a one-eyed monster?” From her disappointed expression, she must think me an idiot, and at the moment, I sort of felt like one. Imagine, my mother a talent agent for ISMAT!
The child Cyclops wailed as he sat on the stool, eating chips. “I not munster!”
Mom patted him on the back reassuring him that he was not a monster, but a big strapping boy who needed to be strong until he returned home to his mom. This helped curb the crying. Mom pulled a Pay Day candy bar from a paper sack and unwrapped it for the child, then gave him half. He examined it, then popped it whole into his mouth. He made a wondrous growl and pounded his chest in happiness. No one could mistake his pleasure in the treat. “More,” he roared.
Mom gave him the second part of the bar and dug in the bag for the others.
“I guess you won’t mind if I give him yours.” She looked at me and smiled as she asked the rhetorical question. “Next we need to clean up your mess, Melinda.”
I waved for Mom to follow me a safe distance away. “Mom, the usual way we handle these occurrences is unacceptable.” I didn’t want to alarm either Winnalea or the Cyclops prince by enlightening them of ISMAT’s directive, requiring me to kill all ORBS, not to let them clean or serve chips and candy bars to them.
“Our only option is to report to Chief Chapman. My superior wouldn’t know what to do with the information.” Mom paused at my quizzical look then went on to explain. “My department concerns itself with identifying, educating, and developing the talents of young cadets. Without this crucial training, assimilating into ISMAT has been difficult for you. Your test scores, albeit very low back then, identified you as eligible for a transfer. However, since they were barely above the benchmark, I obtained a dispensation for you to remain in the regular school system. Your ability increased over time and, after that last wipe, I finally agreed to your training.”
I wandered back to the kitchen. “Well, that explains why it seemed like everybody had the jump on me.”
Winnalea had whisked up enough sandwiches to feed an army--or a Cyclops boy.
“But, Mom, I am not exactly Chief Chapman’s favorite person at the best of times. After the mess on the Johnny Carson show--”
“What mess?”
“Long story.”
“Honey, you don’t have a choice. ISMAT is so closed mouthed about everything. Need-to-know-basis is standard. Do you even know to whom the chief reports?”
“No, I don’t.” I figured I better tell her the rest of the bad news. “Mom, Jim and Sammy--I think they are on Ortharos.”
“Ortharos?”
“Winni and the Cyclops came from there. I hoped Jim would reappear when the big Cyclops in bed with me was--” Turning away from the Cyclops and Winni so only my mom could see, I made my hand into a gun and mimicked firing. “It may have been the King.” Mom looked at the prince and winced. “I feel awful about it,” I said, “but I didn’t know, and it was self-defense. Anyway, Jim didn’t reappear. It doesn’t always work that way, but sometimes it does.”
“I’ll stay here and keep these two company. You report in. You’re due at work anyway.”
“Okay, thanks Mom.”
Winni tried to teach the Prince how to use a spoon. He stuck a spoonful of ice cream on his nose.
I raised my eyebrows and gave my mother a candid look. “Good luck.”
“You too, dear.”
After closing the door, I opened it again, tossing the Fury keys to my mother. “I’ll take the trolley in. You may need my car if there is...well, whatever.” I waved my hand in a dismissive gesture.
Chapter 19
The Witch
One of Queen Fodjes’s servants ran into the room. He spoke urgently to her and gestured to the large balcony. The queen ran to the balcony doors and threw them wide. The rest of the party rushed to her side. Golden locks ascended the walls, and as the flaming arrows of the Cyclops archers glinted off the moving hair, the fire was extinguished.
Rapunzel floated to the top, espying me. “Why, sister, dear. I’ve been looking for you. Imagine you being here. You have sunk low, Phrysia, if you consort with no other beings save these.”
“How did you escape?”
“Simple, dear.” The figure blurred and changed, until Rapunzel wore my face and clothes.
“Fabulous trick,” I said with dismay, wishing I had thought about that possibility.
If I had, Rapunzel wouldn’t be out of her cage. When we were teens, I could have transformed to her likeness and been adored. No one outshone my exquisite sister.
Our abilities were different but equal in strength, and our battles resembled games of chess. One wrong move and checkmate, I’d lose the board.
Rapunzel opened her mouth and leaned her head back. Hair levitated around her angelic face as her mouth and fingertips glowed. She was a black hole drawing light from the burning sun, able to melt the world. Energy ignited. Jim and Sammy rushed beneath the table. I had seen this trick before, and it was more for show than harm. During the distraction of her momentous glamor, I tossed one of my spell-infused clay balls into a pitcher and threw magicked water in the air. Spinning the contents into freezing cylinder stakes, I whipped my hand back then sent them flying into Rapunzel’s fair form. One lodged between her two perfect eyes, but melted away, leaving only the barest of marks between her lovely violet irises. She bore it like a tribute to Queen Fodjes. Steam rose from my sister’s golden tresses as the entangled ice spikes melted like sweetened ices.
“Not the best look for you,” I said in a snide retort.
“Now, now Frizzy, jealousy doesn’t become you--makes you greener.” She laughed at her own joke. Rapunzel must have heard Jim’s nickname for me from the servant’s gossip. Note to self, must hang Jim from the liar’s rack, before sending him back to his world.
Queen Fodjes claimed the sword from her scabbard and cleared the contents from the table with one swipe. Sammy began to wail beneath it, and I heard Jim comfort her. This was no place for a child. As Rapunzel began to light a fire to the tapestry covered windows, I opened the door and used a spell to create a wind tunnel through the balcony, sending flames back onto my sister. Fodjes upended the table, which acted as a thick, wooden barrier between Jim and Sammy and my evil, flame-throwing doppelganger.
Rapunzel threw her hands toward the sky, drawing heat. In a heartbeat, a sphere of white, hot incandescence hovered between her palms. As we scattered for cover, aware of the eminent danger, Rapunzel made an unbecoming guttural sound.
I pulled another clay ball from my cloak and pitched it past Rapunzel’s head, into the moat. I prepared a ball of water beyond the window, using all my concentration to keep it just above freezing. I held it steady at balcony level, spinning it endlessly around itself. My plan was to douse her energy, before she could ignite the castle. With my incantation, I lifted the water orb to douse the balcony, but all was for naught. Rapunzel, in all her glory, faded. She was oblivious to her extinguishing flame as the wall of icy water washed over us and onto the cold flagstone.
Chapter 20
Mindy
An extra meeting on a busy Thursday afternoon will not please the chief. Being ten minutes overdue won’t help. Sammy and Mom were frequent
ly late, thanks to me. During November, Sammy often arrived to play practice mere minutes before her grand entrance and Saturdays, Mom regularly missed the beginning of tai chi in the park. Jim was the timely one in the family. A necessity for professors, yes, but timeliness was his one obsessive compulsion. I drive him crazy with my sporadic, messy life.
“Melinda Nichols!” Chief bellowed. “In my office now!”
The echoing of his booming voice catapulted me out of my chair.
“Yes, sir!” I snapped to attention and grabbed my overflowing brief case filled with my notes outlining the drama of the last two days.
“You’re late!”
It was more fact than accusation.
I need to be more prompt. “Technically Chief, I’m not. I have been working.” I pulled out my sheaf of notepaper and plopped it on his desk. “I need to talk to you about the ISMAT issue of ORB extermination. You see there is the brownie and now--” I started into my spiel, but froze when he interrupted.
“Nichols, you mean to tell me that two unattended ORBs are in your apartment? One of which you said was exterminated?”
I cringed when he put it like that. “That’s what I’m getting to, sir.” I tried to straighten my shoulders and take an affirmative stand. I knew I was right. “Killing all ORBs is senseless! Winnalea is the sweetest little brownie. She wouldn’t hurt a fly and the poor Cyclops prince is probably fatherless, thanks to me. His mother will wage war on Winnalea’s people and possibly us. We don’t know how the Blink works.”
Throwing up my hands in a futile manner, I stood and paced before the chief’s desk, clicking off points on my extended fingers. I must have felt very righteous about my cause because suddenly, a light blinded us as if a flame thrower torched the room from behind me.
