Autumn Calling

by T. Lynne Tolles

  “So far so good,” she chuckled. “Course, only their name has been mentioned.”

  “I know. I just was wondering if there was a time, when you or Ivy ever thought…”

  “Thought what, dear?”

  “That there was another way.”

  “Another way? I’m not following.”

  “Was there ever an attempt to try and make amends?”

  Myrtle laughed as if relieved by the subject. “Oh, dear. You had me going there for a moment,” she continued to laugh a minute longer. “Yes, my dear. Of course. Once things cooled down after Marcus proposed to Violet there were stirrings of reconciliation. Ivy wanted to clean the slate so she’d be welcome to visit her daughter and any children they might have. She and Henry made a great effort to rally the Midnights into accepting Marcus into the family. Ivy even became quite fond of Marcus, though Henry still had his doubts. After all it was his little girl walking into the lions den and no man is good enough for their little girls.”

  “What happened to make it all fall apart?”

  “Morti found an almost empty bottle of potion in Marcus’s coat pocket. It was deduced that it was a concoction to control the mind and heart of another. One thing led to another and Marcus was accused to bending Violet to his wishes.”

  “What did Marcus have to say about it?”

  “He denied it. Said he’d never seen the bottle before.”

  “I take it they didn’t believe him.”

  “Actually Ivy wasn’t convinced. She and Henry had many words about the topic.”

  “And Violet?”

  “She stood by her man. Henry argued if she had been under the influence of a spell or potion that’s exactly how she’d react. It wasn’t until a letter was found that fell out of Marcus’s journal that Ivy lost her conviction in Marcus’s claims.”

  “Why what did the letter say?”

  “It was a letter from Marcus’s mother, Alexandrea. It referred to a previous letter where he spoke of his joy in finally obtaining a way to apprehend the magic of the Midnights in marrying and conceiving a child—connecting the Macabre magic to the Midnights enabling them to syphon it off the offspring and spouse.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “Isn’t it.”

  “How did Marcus respond to the letter?”

  “He seemed truly shocked and tormented by the allegations. He said the letter was a fake. That it wasn’t even his mother’s handwriting.”

  “Couldn’t they just ask the mother?”

  “No, she had traveled back home to France and fell ill while there, which extended her stay.”

  “So they couldn’t verify that Marcus was telling the truth?”

  “No, but they couldn’t prove he was lying, either. I wanted to believe him, but the bottle and the letter made him look like very suspicious.”

  “But they could have just called their mother in France, right?”

  “I don’t know, I suppose. They probably did.”

  “And Violet? What did she have to say. She married him despite it and went off on their blissful honeymoon. What turned her against him in the end?”

  “When they got back from the honeymoon and announced her pregnancy, the Midnights were in an uproar, as they should, for the Macabres were getting exactly what they wanted—our bloodline. Marcus and Violet were fighting all the time from all the family stress on them. He got very drunk one night and Violet found him in bed with Juliette.”

  “Ew…”

  “Indeed.”

  “What did Marcus have to say for himself.”

  “He denied it was him. He claimed to have spent the night in the stables to sleep of the alcohol consumption.”

  “I imagine that was the final straw for Violet, especially in her condition.”

  “No, actually, Henry’s death was the final straw. Marcus’s twin brother Rene was suspected to have poisoned or placed a curse upon Henry.”

  “But Marcus didn’t have a hand in that, did he?”

  “No, but at that point, it was too late for Violet and Marcus. Violet couldn’t see past all he had been accused of. The death of her father was more than she could bare and it threw her into an early labor.”

  “What an awful story.”

  “And very, very sad.”

  Summer let the story stew in her head for a while as she watched the cauldron boil. Herbs bobbed around on top amidst the bubbles then dropped out of sight to begin its rotation once again to the bottom and up.

  “Since all this time has gone by, do you think maybe things could be talked out?”

  “I don’t see how. So much hate, distrust, and death have surrounded our two families. Why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ve thought, wouldn’t it be nice to have a sister and a father? Get to know them and maybe even be a family of sorts.”

  “Oh my, sweet girl. I know that must seem like a lovely fairy tale to you, but Marcus is not that father you picture in that fantasy.”

  “Maybe not, but my sister might be.”

  “I suppose, but having grown up in such dysfunction, I can’t imagine that would be a good thing to expose yourself too.”

  “Look. What if Marcus truly loved Violet. What if he was sorry for his past misdeeds. Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?”

  “Well,” she paused, “I’ve always been a believer of second chances— I mean look at Mortimer.”

  “Precisely. Getting to know my father wouldn’t be a crime, would it?”

  Her eyebrows raised, but she didn’t answer. “What if by getting acquainted with him, and my sister, I could somehow disarm this ticking bomb between our families.”

  “Is that really something you’d be willing to do? I mean the crows came after you and they attacked you when you went to their house to help that cat of theirs.”

  “Yes. I don’t think it will be easy, by any means. The deck is definitely stacked against us, but what if…”

  “What if…”

  “Just think.”

  “It would be lovely to not be fearful to leave my own home or walk the streets of town once more.”

  “Wouldn’t it?”

  Myrtle nodded and pondered what life might be like without the constant weight of the Macabres on her shoulders.

  “It would be lovely to finish out my years that way, but I’ll tell you straight, your biggest obstacle will be Mortimer. He’ll never agree to peace after what Yvonne did to him.”

  “Maybe not, but even if only me and my sister can be a family that would be enough for me.”

  “It would be something to see my nieces together and happy.”

  Summer smiled watching Aunt Myrtle consider a future without imminent battle on the horizon. She’d done it. She’d planted the seed of hope in Myrtle—now was the hard work to make it all come together.

  * * *

  Summer was very pleased with the outcome of her conversation with Aunt Myrtle, but it was only early afternoon and her early morning with Autumn was taking a toll on her—she was very sleepy. She headed to the bedroom for a little nap and Sully was happy to join her, taking up most of the bed. Despite her lack of room and the horrific snoring, he was like a warm furry pillow to burrow her back into.

  It wasn’t long before she was fast asleep. She did, however, have the oddest of dreams. She was surrounded by snow and not exactly dressed for it. Her teeth chattered as gust after gust of snow-filled wind beat at her. The odd thing was, she was in her house. All the furniture was gone and there was no roof or windows. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself trying to keep any warmth she had from escaping, the attempt was of no use. She would die of hypothermia if she didn’t find something to wrap herself in. She looked around the cottage and behind her she beheld a woman in a pencil skirt and silk blouse wearing heels in the snow. The most disturbing thing about the woman was what she held in her hand—Sully.

  She had the huge hellhound by the throat, her hand extended almost straight
up to accommodate the hound’s height. His back legs scraped the floor and his front legs flailed to find something to push off of to get out of her grasp. How could anyone pick up a two hundred plus hellhound and render it incapacitated—the only explanation? Magic. She ran to Sully and the woman, hitting and beating her to let Sully loose, but it was like hitting a brick wall—cold and solid. That didn’t stop Summer from trying. Sully squeaked what Summer assumed was an attempt at a bark, but the woman’s hand held tight as steel.

  A change of tactic, pulled Summer away from the pummeling the ever-smiling woman and she raised her hand at her. Her hand trembled and glowed red as a ball of fire formed. Fire wouldn’t hurt Sully given he’s a beast of hell, but it might hurt the woman. Forming the ball had taken too long and the woman’s other hand came up in defense. Fire was not Summer’s forte, but she was too worried about Sully to try anything else. She released the ball and it dissolved into a shield the woman had called up before her.

  Think, Summer. Think. She told herself. The refrigerator stood ten feet behind the woman. If she could use her wind element to throw it at the woman it surely would knock Sully loose of her grip. With a wave of her hand she commanded the air to bring it forward hitting the woman from behind.

  Yes. Summer said to herself. It worked. The woman was expecting things to hit her head on, not from behind. It was enough to get her to release the pup. But as strangely as the whole thing had started, the dream ended with Sully hitting the floor. Her eyes opened and she found herself in bed with Sully who had woken as suddenly as she.

  “What was that?” she said out loud waiting for some explanation from the hellhound. He coughed a couple of times as if he had been chocked. Was it real? Her arms were cold to the touch. Sully’s fur was cold too. She got up and walked into the main part of the house and looked around half expecting it to be roofless, without furniture, and several inches of snow laying on the floor. But there was nothing amiss, not even a dish out of place.

  Sully stood beside her looking around the room as if whatever she had dreamt, he too was there. He coughed again and went to his bowl of water taking in an endless amount. That’s when she heard it. Sully must have heard it too for at the same instant he stopped gulping and cocked his head to listen. It sounded like a far off rumbling, but with each drawing second it became louder. Whatever it was it was coming and it was coming really fast. Was it an earthquake? A low flying jet? The rumbling became louder and louder until it was deafening—like thunder that wouldn’t stop but only got worse. She looked to Sully and he ran to her side and laid down putting his paws on his ears and whining. She too put her hands to her ears.

  BOOM. Every window in the house blew in towards her. Without even thinking she shielded herself with a quick burst of wind that radiated outward from where she and Sully stood. If she had been thinking she would have done a harder blast but this was a knee-jerk reaction and she was very lucky she had the gumption to think of it when she did, for all around her and Sully, in a perfect circle were shards of glass. Summer noticed one just inches from her foot that was at least two feet in length and six inches at its widest. It would have gone clean through her if she hadn’t used magic.

  She did however have some small cuts from the remnants of the blast. Again if she had been thinking clearly she might not have had any cuts, but that obviously was not in the cards. The worst of her injuries was a piece of glass that was in the fleshy part of her upper arm. It was in pretty far and it would be hard to get it out on her own since it was her right arm and she could barely brush her teeth with her left hand.

  She checked over Sully to make sure he was okay. He had a few tiny cuts, but nothing deep. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and called Aunt Myrtle to come down to the cottage. Summer had no shoes on and the floor was covered in glass looking like snow from her dream.

  “Aunt Myrtle? It’s Summer?”

  “Did you hear that terrible roar of thunder?”

  “I don’t think that was thunder. Could you come down to the cottage right away. We’ve had a little incident down here.”

  “Oh? Of course, dear.”

  “And Aunt Myrtle?”

  “Yes?”

  “Could your bring a broom, or two?”

  “Uh, yes. I suppose. What for, dear?”

  “You’ll see when you get here.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there lickety-split.”

  “Thanks.”

  Two or three minutes later she could hear her aunt coming up the stairs then a knock came at the door.

  “Come in, but be careful,” Summer called out to her.

  The door opened and Aunt Myrtle shrieked. “Good Lord, what happened here.”

  “Magic.”

  “Come again?”

  “I believe I received a little gift from the Macabres. I don’t have any shoes on and I don’t want Sully to walk on the glass, can you clear a path to us so he can go outside and I can find some shoes.”

  Aunt Myrtle dutifully swept a clean wide path to them speaking to herself all the while with a few “Dear Lords and “Mercy me.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Myrtle.” She squeezed Summer tightly with a hug, grabbing just above her wound, making Summer squirm a bit.

  “Oh dear, that’s nasty. Better take you up to the house to get that out.”

  “Okay, but could you grab my Wellies from the shed so I have shoes?”

  “Certainly, sweetheart. Certainly. You just wait here.”

  In a flash the old woman was off and back. Sully and I walked up to the main house where Aunt Myrtle patched them up and gave them both something to eat.

  “So you still wager on peace talks with the Macabres after this?” Myrtle asked.

  “Well, I didn’t expect it to be easy, if that’s what you’re asking. And it’s not like it was Marcus or Autumn who attacked me.”

  “Even though neither of them were the initiated the attack, it doesn’t mean they don’t know about it,” Aunt Myrtle said, making a very good point.

  “True, but I prefer to think the better of them and give them the benefit of the doubt.”

  “How very sweet of you. I just hope you don’t get burned or worse.”

  Summer hoped not too, but she was going into this with her eyes open. Chances were it was going to get bad before it got better, but she had her sights on the bigger picture and determined to meet her goal, no matter what it took to get there.

  Chapter 20

  A week went by before hearing anything from Autumn and just when Summer was starting to get worried things were not working out as they had hoped, she got a text from her asking her to meet with her at the cabin, though this time it wasn’t quite as early or late, depending on how you look at things, as the their last meet.

  When Summer knocked the door, an eager face met hers.

  “Come in. I’ve got some news,” Autumn said.

  “Me too. Do you want to go first? Or shall I?”

  “I’ll go. So I did what you told me to do. I went to Dad and confronted him about Violet. I’ve never seen him in such a state. I guess because we had already broken the boundary of Juliette not being my mother and that whole gross situation, he was much more willing to talk.”

  “See. I told you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. It was so cool. We sat and talked for hours. I can’t remember the last time we’ve done that—maybe even since I was a little girl. I can tell you it was awesome to be alone without Juliette watching over us. I hadn’t realized how much she hovered until I found out she wasn’t my mother. I never liked her much as a mother, she was never exceptionally motherly and she absolutely never let me and Dad have time alone. I think she’s a control freak when it comes to us.”

  “So in your conversation, did you bring up the possibility of a nonviolent way to solve this feud.”

  “Not exactly. But we did talk about Violet—a lot.”

  “What did you learn about our mother? Anything you can share with me?”

  “Ye
ah. Tons. He was totally in love with her. No potions or spells were used like the Midnights suggested. He was heart broken when Violet lost faith in him and it nearly killed him when he had learned that she was in cohoots with her family to take you and me away from him.

  “He asked a lot about you. I think out of all of this I may not have planted the seed you wanted but I’m pretty sure he would very much like to meet you.”

  “Really? He said that?”

  “Yes, and why wouldn’t he. You’re the daughter he never got to know. He showed me that he keeps a picture of you and me as babies in his wallet. He’d shown it to me in the past but what I didn’t know was that it had been bent in half and you were on the backside which I never saw. I suppose this kept Juliette from hounding him too.”

  “That is interesting.”

  “So what’s your news?”

  “I talked to Aunt Myrtle about things. I didn’t actually suggest meeting up or anything like that, but I definitely planted the seed of a possibility. She was able to tell me Violet’s side of the story as she knows it. I don’t believe she felt that Marcus had put a spell on Violet and I know she and Ivy both tried to give Marcus the benefit of the doubt but there was so much evidence piling up against him. Violet believed in him for as long as she could but I suppose the hormones and emotions of pregnancy along with the pressure from the family was just too much to take.”

  “What do you mean ‘evidence’?”

  “A potion bottle was found in his coat pocket, a letter from his mother that referred to his role in the plot to steal magical powers from his offspring, and Violet finding him in bed with Juliette.”

  “What? He would never sleep with Juliette.”

  “According to Aunt Myrtle that’s what happened, and we both know that they faked being married for you benefit. As for the potion and the letter, both were rather circumstantial and could have easily been planted and faked.”

  “It must be a mistake or a misunderstanding. Dad swore to me nothing ever happened between the two of them. In fact he seemed quite disgusted by the suggestion.”

  “It does have a certain bit of ‘eeewww’ to it.”