“No’ that ‘un….” Ian’s voice sighed. It was the most she had heard from him all day. She wondered if he was possibly not as strong as he had thought he was… as she had thought he was. Hopefully, he could hang on and remain with her until she got home, and he had his regular abode of his Highland bear nearby.
Finally, Carol found the seller she was looking for. Ross Goodman was a young man with a shock of white-blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes that stood out in a crowd. He had been buying odd bits of jewelry from Carol for a few years, and she was at this Gem Show by his invitation. They greeted each other warmly, and Ross threw his arms about her in a familiar hug.
“Oh, Carol, it is so good that you came! Let me look at you.” He held her at arm’s reach for a moment and ran his eyes over her. “Oh, you look divine, as always. Is that an Erte?”
She grinned. “It sure is, you darling boy. I promised I’d show it to you someday… Well, today is ‘someday’. Now, I have something that I thought you might be interested in maybe using.”
Ross not only sold antique jewelry; he also was a designer. He was known for his excellent silver-smithing and his use of classic, antique design-elements. Out of her purse, Carol pulled a black, velvet bag and, opening it, she took out her Assyrian-hunt-scene bracelet from Keefe O’Katie’s. When she had first seen the golden cuff, she had marveled at its intricacy. Every detail was carefully sculpted into the gold, from the carved wheels of the chariots to the delicate figuring of the horses’ harnesses. She had never seen anything like it. She had picked it up right away, specifically because she had known that Ross was going to love it.
“Provenance?” Ross asked.
Carol smirked. “None. It’s a complete unknown.”
“I love this,” he replied seriously. “I must have this. The detail is exquisite….” he trailed off. He peered at the bracelet, then pulled out a loupe and held it to his eye, examining the item closely. He made appreciative sounds. “Let’s see what we can work out.”
Ross showed Carol over to his display counter. He always used the finest stones, and Carol loved his creations. She saw a pair of handmade pearl and blue topaz earrings that she thought her youngest daughter would love.
“Ross, how about a trade? How much for those earrings?”
He told her. She looked in the display case. There was a necklace of tiny, garnet beads with gold and pearls. It was very long, and the stones looked to be of excellent quality.
“Ross, how about that? Tell me how much you’re asking for that necklace.”
“I’ll tell you what, Carol. I’ll give you the earrings, and the necklace, for the cuff.”
“Throw in that cameo, and you’ve got a deal.” The cameo in question was large, about two-and-a-half inches tall, with an angel standing by an anchor and beseechingly looking up at an overhead star. Something about her face, the way she stood, as if praying to the star, made Carol feel a kinship with that figure, and she just had to have her.
“Oh, you’ve got good taste! She’s a real beauty, isn’t she? She’s old. Let me think for a minute….” He did some mental calculating, rolling his vivid eyes. “Oh, alright! You can have her too.” He laughed. “I want that bracelet!”
They completed their transaction with smiles and more hugs, and Carol promised to send Ross photos of her wearing the jewelry out at “some fabulously ritzy shin-dig.” She managed to make it through the rest of the morning, thanks to Yao’s tea, without either exhausting herself or buying anything else and, just as she was getting ready to leave and grab lunch, she knew he was there. It began with a silent, growing apprehension in the air, an increasing tightness in her belly that made her clench her teeth. Freddie Archegon was perusing a table covered with stone obelisks and spheres near the front. She decided that she had the energy and gumption to take the initiative, and so she strode up behind him.
“Freddie? Freddie Archegon, is that you?” She feigned surprise.
Freddie Archegon whirled around to face her with a startled smile upon his face.
“Carol Conley! Heavens-to-Betsy, what are you doing here? I didn’t know you were going to be in town.” He seemed genuinely surprised, and he clasped her hands between his with delight in his sparkling eyes. They were grey, Carol noticed, like sunlight reflections on water.
“Well, I love this show, so I like to come every year or two. I thought I might find you here, with our shared love of jewelry; I’m glad to see I was right.” She felt a tickle on her arm, like a sighing breath. She brushed her hand over it, quelling Ian’s presence.
Freddie took that arm in his.
“Have you had lunch yet? There’s a little place right by my house that makes great blintzes.”
And, like before, off they went, out into the summer sunshine.
They walked into Freddie’s darkened shop and he switched on the lights. The shelves and counters were covered with all sorts of unusual items: candles of all colors and scents, jars and jars of incense-sticks, hanging necklaces of beads and shells and crystals, books, pentacles, wall-hangings, strange objects. Freddie beamed with pride.
“Welcome to my home! How do you like it?” He said with a bow and a flourish. “I sell only the best in Occult merchandise at my store. You won’t find those cheap, plastic pentacles here, no ma’am. I vet all of my items and vendors, so I know it’s of real quality.” He walked calmly through the room.
Carol’s senses were on fire. It was like walking into bright, hot sunlight after being in a dark room all day; like biting into an orange when one is thirsty and overheated, and the taste of it is almost painful on the tongue; like washing off with fresh water after sea-salt has crusted upon your skin: searing and tingly. There were so many spirits here, all milling about, some rushing to and fro like they were in a hurry, some not. None of them seemed afraid or panicked. None of them seemed to even notice their surroundings, or Freddie. For his part, Freddie walked right through them as though unaware, and they swirled around him like clouds of vapor. Carol could feel them passing by her, around her, through her, and the hairs on her arms prickled. She couldn’t hear Ian; the background “noise” of the surrounding souls was too much no matter how tightly she clutched the tartan shawl.
“Oh, it’s lovely!” she almost shouted. Freddie took her hand and showed her to a back room, through a beaded curtain she had not even noticed. He sat her down at a round, wooden table with heavy, carved legs.
“My dear, sit down. You look like you’re going to have another one of your episodes. Let me get you some water.” He left to fetch it.
Carol started to feel steadier as she sat, and she noticed that the restlessness of the spirits seemed to be dying down more and more the longer she sat there. By the time Freddie returned with the water, she was starting to feel like herself again, and everything seemed to have calmed down.
“Here you are, drink this. It’s just water, but it should help.” Freddie smirked at her. “There’s a lot of noise in there sometimes, I know… especially when someone new comes in. The spirits get very excited and like to show themselves.” He looked over the table and met her stare. “Oh yes, I know. You’re not fooling anyone, young lady.” He waved his fingers in the air. “I can sense the spirits too, you know. Not as well as you, my dear, but I can, and that’s what makes me especially suited for this business.” He winked. “And I have ample material to work with! Let me show you.” He went out of the room again and came back clutching something in his hands. He put it on the table. It was a silver chain with a pendant of what looked to be clear, golden topaz, bound in silver.
“Go ahead, pick it up.” He prompted.
Carol reached for the pendant. Her fingers tingled as they approached it. When she touched it, she felt a presence, but it was muted… like it was behind glass, muffled. She looked at Freddie.
“What is this?” she asked fearfully. She remembered the panic of the souls in the jewelry store where she had met him: in particular, the terrified woman’s face in th
e amethyst window.
“This one is one of my latest creations. It’s not too powerful, but it can sure add a kick to any flame or illumination spell you’d care to try.” He laughed and winked at her. “This one can be had for only fifty bucks; a bargain for any witch.”
Carol knew that it was trendy to call oneself a “witch,” but she was not sure how it sat with her. She was not a witch; she just could sense the dead in various ways. She had always been like this, and had no need of charms or spells, like witches used. She had learned to conceal it early on for fear, in fact, of being referred to as one, like the green-skinned Wicked Witch of the West.
“Oh, Freddie! I’m not a witch, really I’m not. Please don’t call me that…. But what is this? What are you doing?”
“Oh, Carol, don’t worry. It’s not anything bad, no! What I do is put the energy from the spirits into gemstones, like this one, so they can… help me with things. I’m sure you understand. You took the moonstone ring, after all.” He waved his hand familiarly.
“But, Freddie… look, don’t they mind being put in there? I certainly wouldn’t care for it,” she argued. And then she sputtered, “Moonstone! No… I… uh… I don’t,” she was floundering.
“Of course you have it, don’t be ridiculous. We’re far past that, my dear.” His fingers flashed in the light as he made one of his many dismissive gestures. “I hope someday to win it back from you. In fact, to show my good faith….” He reached under the table and pulled out a small, black bag, pouring a pearl necklace out of it and into his palm. The clasp was intricately box-shaped, and set with glimmering, black stones. “I do believe this is yours, yes? In our exchange?”
Carol recognized the necklace she had slipped into his bag when she had stolen the moonstone ring from him. She felt mortified: not only had she stolen, but he had called her bluff about not having it, and so very boldly at that. He was entirely in control here. She was going to have to rectify that somehow. She felt the heat rising into her cheeks. Freddie had placed the pearls on the table before her, like an offering.
“Are you giving these to me?” Carol asked.
“Of course! They are yours, after all. I am not a thief. I do not take what is not offered me.” He looked directly at her with his silvery eyes. “I hope someday that you will see the error of it as well and return that which belongs to me.”
Carol wanted to squirm under that gaze, uncomfortable with both his scrutiny and the thought of what she had done, but she held her back straight and did not look away. Freddie dropped his eyes from hers and softened, continuing.
“Now, like I was saying, Carol, they’re dead. They are not using that energy anymore. As I said before, energy never disappears, it just changes form. Well, so, that energy is still there… I’m just helping it to ‘transform’, shall we say… into whatever I’m doing with it. Currently, I’m trying to keep evil at bay.” He laughed.
At that moment, Carol heard the door open, its attendant bell ringing as it swung.
“Helloooooo…!” A woman’s voice called out. “Freddie, are you there?” The voice had a German accent.
In a moment, a woman entered through the beaded curtain. She was of indeterminate age, although not young, with languid, violet eyes, and silvery hair pulled into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and wisping around her face. Freddie stood up and immediately embraced her.
“Lorelei! My dear, how are you? This is my new friend, Mrs. Carol Conley. Carol, this is Lorelei.”
Carol knew this woman through her image alone. This was Lorelei, the infamous tabloid-writer and fortune-teller! This woman was notoriously eclectic, or so the media said, with extravagant vacations, long seclusions, and lovers galore. Carol had always admired her sense of style but had never been brave enough herself to wear the flamboyant, Bohemian textures and oversized jewelry that this woman did. She found herself a little flustered and extended her hand in greeting. Lorelei took it, laughing, and squeezed Carol’s fingers gently.
“Hello, dahling. Ah, you look at me like I vill bite your head right off! Don’t vorry, dahling… I don’t bite… often.” She winked. She wore a fur stole around her neck of the palest, softest-white ermine that Carol had ever seen, and she had not seen one in a long time. People did not wear real fur anymore, especially not with skull and foot-bones intact. It also winked at her. Carol stared and wiped at her eyes. Had she really just seen that?
I must be imagining things, she thought, Too many ghosts around.
“Besides,” Lorelei went on, “You have a lover, do you not? A... Zcotsman? He vould never forgive me.” She let Carol’s fingers go and sat down at the table. “Freddie, be a dear and get me a cup of vasser.” Freddie gave a close-lipped smile and ran off to do so.
Lorelei put a massive purse of brightly colored, silken material on the table. Out of it, she pulled an old teacup and a small, metal box. Carol wondered why she needed such a large bag to hold such a tiny cup. What else was in there?
“I am going to do zomething for you, my dear. I am going to give you a reading right now. Why not? It is what I do, after all, and I’m here.” Lorelei opened the box, pulled out what looked to be crumbled tea leaves, and put a large pinch in the cup. Freddie came back with some water. He must have known what Lorelei was going to do, because the water was in a mug, and it was steaming. Lorelei took the mug, poured some of the water into the teacup, swirled the cup around two or three times, and handed it to Carol.
“Drink.” She said.
Carol drank. It tasted like a black tea, strong and malty, almost sweet, like an Assam. Lorelei was going to read her tea leaves! Carol was interested, and more than a little excited. She finished the tea and handed the cup back over.
Lorelei passed her fingers over the cup and murmured wordlessly under her breath. Then she hefted the cup in her palm to about eye-height, and in one move, flipped it over and set it upside-down, hard, right on the table. Freddie winced. Carefully she lifted the cup, peering underneath as she did so, until the cup was up off of the table, and the tea leaves were spread out on its wooden surface, displayed before them.
“Hmm….” Lorelei began. “Vell, this is interesting.” She looked up from the leaves and at Carol. “It says here that you have ze lover, yes? And that you have been together for lifetimes, no?” She looked expectant.
“Go on.” Carol said. She was expecting to hear about Queen Mary’s execution, about the handmaiden and the little dog, and about the bonnie guardsman who had loved them. She had discovered these things herself already through various experiences; from long discussions with Ian, to dreams she had had, to long evenings of library research.
“Hm! Vell…” Lorelei gazed again at the leaves. “Over here… here it says that you vill change your mind about zomething important. Ya… ya. It says you are going to change your mind. I don’t know about what, dahling, but you vill.” She gave Carol a significant, direct gaze. Then she turned back to the leaves, scanning them with her long-lashed, shadowy eyes and tracing her delicate fingertips over their configurations.
“Oh!” Lorelei exclaimed. Then she looked at Carol with a confused expression for a few intense moments, then back to the leaves. “Fascinating.... Zomething… zomething is coming… zomething is happening. Your decision is very important. A careful choice could tip ze balance. Does this make any zense to you?”
Carol felt something suddenly brush softly against her ankle before she could answer. She jerked her leg away and looked down to see what she thought looked like an animal… a white animal, before it darted away. She looked back up at Lorelei: her ermine stole was nowhere to be seen. Carol had not seen her put it down. She felt the touch at her ankle again and glanced down out of the corner of her eye. It was the ermine; Carol was sure of it. The creature was looking up at her intently as it placed one paw on top of her foot. The paw sank right through her flesh: Carol felt nothing. It was ghostly, spectral, that paw. Carol realized she was looking at an ermine ghost. She didn’t even know t
hat animals could have spirits like that! The ghostly creature, seeing her recognition and awareness, delightedly hopped up and down, and began to scamper around Carol’s feet, weaving in and out of her ankles at it did so. Carol could not hide her surprise.
“Och, dahling. Is Karl bothering you? He’s zuch a Schlingel! Karl? Karl! Come here, Schätzchen.”
The ermine appeared, wrapped around Lorelei’s shoulders once more, looking for all the world like a regular fur stole. Carol was amazed and enchanted. Did all animals have spirits like this one?
Carol looked up inquiringly, but Lorelei turned to Freddie.
“Freddie, really, I am just here to pick up zome supplies. You know what I like, ya?”
“Of course, my dear, how could I ever forget?” He went out into the store. Lorelei pulled a lace handkerchief out of her sleeve and swiped the cup of the dregs of liquid with a practiced turn of her turquoise-sheathed wrist. After packing up her box of tea and now-dry teacup, she tucked the bundled hankie back into her sleeve. Carol was enthralled by every, graceful movement of the celebrity.
“Whenever I am in Chicago, I get all of my zupplies from Freddie. Ve go vay back, right to our school days!” Lorelei laughed, and it was hearty, earthy, the laugh of a woman who is comfortable with herself, no matter the surroundings, or the company. “I like to keep him in my zights, no?”
Freddie came back with a small bag of white plastic. It had the words “Oddities & Rarities” printed in ornate, scrolled letters.
“Oh, thank you, Freddie.” She peeked in the bag. “Zis is per-fect! Just what I needed.” She stood and fished around in her purse, finally pulling her hand out holding some cash. She stuffed it into Freddie’s hands, amidst his protests of “Lorelei… no… not again… hold on now…” and then she strode off, sending the beaded curtain swinging, and swept out of the front door, leaving Freddie standing there confused with a double-handful of money.
Wayward Magic Page 33
