Spirit of the Dragon: A Story of Magic, a Witch, and the Third Reich

by J Cameron Boyd

  “You should have been there. If you saw what they did to those girls, you wouldn’t be so darn righteous.” Willow grasped Elizabeth’s arm, her grip matching the intensity in her eyes. “For God’s sake, their goal was to annihilate an entire race of people.”

  “Yes, but they didn’t.”

  “Not because they didn’t try. Can you imagine what it would have been like if the Nazis accessed the old Lantian magic?” Willow pressed.

  “There’s no way that could have happened.” Elizabeth looked at Willow quizzically. Why would she even bring up an idea that was so ridiculous?

  Willow let go of her arm. She gave her a look that Elizabeth could have sworn was how a poker player with a full hand looked just as he was about to show his cards. “From what I heard they had some of the old manuscripts. And … they tried to use them to control the magic of flight.”

  “No way!”

  “Apparently, someone stepped in to stop them.” Willow gave her a sidelong glance.

  “A witch?” Elizabeth asked.

  “I believe that was the case. And before you start getting bent out of shape again, I suggest you take that talent of yours and go check it out,” Willow said smugly.

  Elizabeth studied her for a moment. Something was going on. Elizabeth felt like Willow was baiting her; dropping hints about something she knew that Elizabeth should know.

  Willow was, by anyone’s standard, one of the old witches. Her detailed knowledge of human history, especially her intimate relationships with the world’s most famous spiritual teachers, spoke of thousands of years on this planet. Exactly how many, she wouldn’t tell.

  One of the most unusual things about Willow was her indispensable talent. She built Ways. Where most wouldn’t dream of going, Willow went. Solid rock, lava flows, and oceans wouldn’t dissuade her from establishing a wormhole-like Witch’s Way for someone’s convenience.

  Since witches have the ability to levitate and alter electromagnetic configurations, if you add in the Ways that Willow constructed, you get what most witches have become accustomed to. Whether via flight or Witch’s Way, they all have had rapid, unfettered access to anywhere on the planet.

  Willow was a superstar among witches. Accordingly, Elizabeth was surprised when the grand old witch came up to her as if they were old friends and struck up a conversation. The conversation, to Elizabeth’s bewilderment, took some strange twists.

  The gathering they were at was to celebrate Frank’s rebirth. Several hundred years earlier he had met and fallen in love with Julia. Even though she was a witch, their relationship flourished. And when Frank aged, Julia decided to go against custom. Instead of allowing Frank to move on, she rejuvenated her human husband. Since that time, the process was repeated every fifty years or so. The last time Julia worked her magic on him, which was seventy years ago, Frank decided that he had his fill of immortality.

  “Time to die,” he told his wife. “This will be the last go-round.” Reluctantly she went along with the idea.

  But then came talk of the prophecy finally being fulfilled. With the promise of extraordinary changes affecting not only the Lantians and Piretians but pretty much every other being on the planet, Frank changed his mind.

  Already one of the few humans privy to the planet’s true reality, Frank decided he didn’t want to miss what was about to unfold. Accordingly, he took back his wish and a jubilant Julia readily agreed—and, once again, Frank’s body took on the physiology of a twenty-year-old.

  The resulting party turned into a rather large gathering of witches and warlocks; many of whom Elizabeth knew quite well. Willow, however, was not among those she knew. Not that she was aware of, that is.

  Nevertheless, when Elizabeth left Willow to visit with other guests, she felt in their parting, a sense of familiarity that brought with it a whisper that she and Willow would soon meet again. Strangely, it also left her trying to brush away the inexplicable feeling that they already had a history together.

  Not long after that conversation, it was Frank’s turn to surprise Elizabeth.

  “Hey there, youngster. What do you think of the party?”

  “I guess I am the youngest one here,” Elizabeth agreed, giving Frank a rebirthday hug.

  “By about a hundred years I’d say,” Frank said. “Still, for someone of your tender age, you do get around. Speaking of which, have you heard from your father recently?”

  “Why do you ask?” Elizabeth queried, thinking the question a little unusual.

  “There’s a rumor that Uriel’s prophecy is about to hatch. Thought you might have heard something.”

  “Where’d you hear this?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Julia got it from a couple of Uriel’s girls.”

  “Oh … I hadn’t heard. Hmm … but I do know Isabel is meeting with my father at the ranch. I suspect Uriel is there as well,” Elizabeth said, before inadvertently adding aloud, “Perhaps that was what Abigail meant.”

  Frank, knew her words had slipped out and weren’t meant for him—so he pried. “What did Abigail say?”

  “Oh … when she called to ask me to come to your party, she said something about the ranch was about to host a meeting of the gods. That crew would be sure to take over the place, and it would be a good idea for me to get out of there.”

  Even though he was sure the witch, Abigail, who was one of Uriel’s favorite daughters, had told Elizabeth more that he would like to hear, Frank changed the subject. He sensed that finding out anything else about Uriel’s prophecy from Elizabeth wasn’t going to happen.

  “Speaking of the gods, I hear tell that little cat god, Isabel, is acting as your familiar.”

  “More like my fairy godmother.”

  “I take it that she conjured up a pumpkin coach to get you here and it’s parked out front?” Frank laughed. “For that, I would say I owe that little god a thank you. You being here gives me a chance to rekindle an old relationship.”

  “Uh, Frank, we only just met a few months ago.”

  “I was talking about Germany. Now that I have my youth back, I’m remembering all those adventures quite nicely.”

  “Germany?” Elizabeth shook her head in confusion. ‘This seems to be the night for strange conversations,’ she thought. ‘I feel like I’m missing something here.’

  “Come to think of it, maybe I’ve got it mixed up,” Frank backpedaled, realizing he might have put his foot in his mouth. “Hey, I heard through the grapevine that you can do what only the gods do; move through time. You wouldn’t by chance consider telling me how this time traveling of yours works, would you?”

  “Once the variables are accounted for, it’s actually quite simple ... But what did you mean about Germany?”

  “This rebirthing thing can mess with your mind. It must have been another gorgeous, young woman that I was thinking about.” Frank gave her a wink.

  Elizabeth knew that the newly-young, old codger was playing her. But what could she do? If she was going to find out why they were talking to her about something that happened seventy-five years ago, she was going to have to play along.

  “Time travel has two inherent possibilities,” she began. “As you know, time is a manifestation of many patterns, each pattern or timeline stacking on top of the pattern proceeding it. This allows time to enter into the illusion of moving from the past to the present on its way to the future. In reality, the movement of time is little more than one of the three flows of consciousness. Still, you don’t have to be aware of any of those flows to move from one timeline to the next. All you have to do is cross a couple of timelines. Do that, and time travel becomes little more than a stroll from one point to the next.”

  “But I heard you work consciously to shift through time.”

  “I suppose I do. It’s mostly mental, but I also take advantage of Mother Nature’s awareness. Factor in the vectors and do the math, and anyone with a little imagination and willingness to believe can pick and choose the time they want to be in.”r />
  “So tell me this,” Frank smiled. “Is this date your real now as it would be for those who have never jumped about in time, or is it merely a future you have come to observe?”

  “Sentient consciousness is flowing at this point of the here and now. Because I’m living in this timeline and matching my own thoughts with that conscious stream, it would have to mean that, regardless of when I was born, this is my now, the same now that the majority of the population is living.”

  “And that doesn’t change when you go back over a hundred years to visit your mother?”

  “I would say it doesn’t.”

  “That would also mean that because you skipped a few timelines getting here, those times haven’t yet happened for you even though they are technically in your past.”

  “Hmm … you have a point,” Elizabeth agreed.

  “But at the same time, I have been in the current flow for quite some time. My past and all its experiences are, for me, a fact. I lived it, and in doing so, made friends with someone who has yet to experience our shared moment.”

  Elizabeth stared at him suspiciously. “Are you saying I need to go back in time so that we can be old friends again?”

  “How about the year 1938? Say around November or so,” the young man grinned from ear to ear, showing off his brand new set of pearly whites.

  CHAPTER 6

  Before leaving Frank’s birthday party, Elizabeth spoke to Willow again. She was determined to find out where the witch was in November of 1938. That accomplished, instead of returning to Arizona with Abigail, she borrowed one of the brooms in Julia’s shop. The one she grabbed was awful. The darn thing, labeled ‘Faster Than the Young Wizard Could Ever Imagine’ was colored a blackish green, and of all things, had racing stripes.

  Nevertheless, Elizabeth was in a hurry, and it was the one closest to the door. Ignoring the warnings directed toward the parents of the young wizards, the witch converted the toy into the real thing, hopped aboard, and lifted into the sky.

  Elizabeth was thankful it was so easy to turn any stick of wood into a speedy mode of transportation. Contrary to popular opinion, broom flight is not all witchcraft. What is needed to fly on a wooden stick is a basic understanding of witchcraft and a command of magic.

  One must be able to mentally elongate the wood’s molecular structure so that it, and whatever it is supporting, can be levitated. From that point forward, it becomes a matter of magic. The broom is levitated with the mind and then manipulated to create repelling (back end) and attracting (front of the broom) polarities. The latter of which allows the front of the wood to be attracted to a specific point in space. All of this is done with the mental ability of a magician.

  The nature of the flight, on the other hand, is up to the witch, much as one driving a convertible gets to choose whether the rag top is up or down. One can fly as if in an open cockpit with the wind, friction, and noise or be shielded in varying degrees so that there is little or no wind, noise, or friction. The latter of which, obviously, is the standard approach when the broom’s velocity goes beyond the speed of sound.

  From Denver, Elizabeth, shielded, sped east making the broom live up to its billing. Four hours later she was in Vienna, Austria.

  Arriving at night without familiar landmarks was a tad bit tricky. Luckily the city is home to a large, quite famous park—Stadtpark. Elizabeth spotted the city lights reflected in the Wien River and followed its course through the city until she found the biggest space without lights. There she gently eased her racing broom down through the park’s trees.

  Once on the ground, the math began. By the light of a glowing orb that she conjured up, the witchling mapped out the terrain, subtracted seventy-seven years and worked out the other necessary calculations. She then checked to make sure the spot she picked was exactly the same in 1938.

  The latter was done with a combination of magic and human technology, though she trusted the magic to a far greater degree, Elizabeth figured it couldn’t hurt to follow up her findings with a quick computer search.

  Her six by four-inch little laptop, thanks to the array of satellites it was connected to, gave her the internet wherever she went.

  ‘This will do,’ she told herself, referring to the place she stood. Then, adhering to her training, she ran her numbers one more time.

  Her calculations gave the same conclusion. With a pleased smile on her face, the young witch did what no other witch could do. She closed her eyes and saw herself in the 1938 version of Stadtpark.

  Year: 1938

  When the feel of solid ground again united Elizabeth to the planet, her eyes opened, her breath returned, and without wasting a moment, she stepped into a brisk walk.

  Willow’s coordinates were precise. Then again, anyone spending most of their time underground making wormholes would be into precision. Within the hour, Elizabeth was outside the house of Professor Philipp Luderick.

  Luderick and Willow first came together because of rocks. His expertise in rock formations and the dynamics of subterranean patterns made him the go-to-guy whenever a mineshaft or railroad tunnel was needed. Curious as to what the man knew, Willow sought him out. From there, his six foot plus frame and gorgeous blue eyes made her think he had so much more to offer than just his knowledge of subterranean patterns. But what sealed the deal for the old witch was that Luderick was attracted to her by who she was and fascinated by what she was. Whenever Willow was in town (which was far more often than necessary) she could be found at Professor Luderick’s.

  Standing outside the darkened structure, Elizabeth tried to determine the time.

  “It’s got to be close to five-thirty in the morning,” Elizabeth said. She looked around for a clock tower or something that would determine if her guess was correct or not. There was nothing.

  This left the witchling with the choice of waiting until a light popped on somewhere inside the house or force the issue and wake someone up. The sticky thing about the second option was that the people she had come to see were strangers. Willow’s past may have included Elizabeth, but Elizabeth had yet to initiate the relationship. Then again, the witchling had yet to acquire the necessary patience it took to wait for someone to wake up.

  With a soft combination of words, the witch conjured the wake-up call. In the form of a lime-green spiral of smoke, the words rose to a second story window and passed into the brick structure. Moments later the window lifted, and a man stuck out his head.

  “Do you know what time it is?” the man barked, eyes staring like daggers down at the woman below.

  Elizabeth smiled and whispered up at him, “I’m looking for Willow.”

  ***

  Introductions and explanations led to breakfast and speculation. Willow and the professor could not think of why this moment in history would justify Elizabeth’s journey. Yes, the Germans had taken over, but that seemed to suit the majority of Austrians.

  “You can’t go anywhere without seeing that symbol,” Willow griped.

  “It’s quite ancient, you know, darling,” Luderick offered. “It’s a dimensional pattern denoting the power of the four elements. From what I’ve studied, it has been around for over three thousand years.”

  “Come to think of it, I have run into it with my alchemy studies,” Willow confessed. “Sort of the alpha and omega of life.”

  “My mother’s side of my family knew the symbol,” Elizabeth added, referring to her Native American heritage.

  “It was also used by the ancient Christians,” the professor added. “I would think the Nazis choice of the swastika bodes well for our future.”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t going to be the case,” Elizabeth said sadly. “Years from now, the world will still think the swastika is the ultimate sign of evil.”

  “That’s … are you really from the future?” Luderick questioned, obviously having a hard time with that part of Elizabeth’s introduction.

  “Honey, don’t worry. Her present time does not have to be ou
r future,” Willow spoke up. “It will be better if we create what comes on our own.”

  “If it helps you to wrap your brain around my timeline, I was born in 1801,” the witchling offered hopefully.

  “Not particularly,” the professor said dryly.

  ***

  The witches took to each other quite readily. And though the professor had his misgiving, he was every bit the congenial tour guide. By the end of the day, the witchling knew firsthand what it was like to be at the beginning of the human’s Second World War.

  The swastikas were everywhere, and so too were the soldiers, the youths with their arm bands, and the fledgling unit everyone was calling the storm troopers. There was an excitement about the city that had an edge to it. Haunted by the image of a balloon expanding past its limit, Elizabeth followed Willow and the professor back to their home.

  “Thank you for the day,” Elizabeth said as the three moved through the house to the kitchen.

  “It’s kind of intense out there, isn’t it,” Luderick frowned.

  “I think a night in would be in order,” Willow agreed.

  “Perhaps we could invite the Haas’s over for dinner,” Luderick suggested.

  “Oh yes,” Willow smiled and then turned to Elizabeth, “You’ll love their daughters. Hannah and Laura are precious.”

  The professor, knowing that his offer had been approved, headed back out the door to deliver the dinner invitation personally. Elizabeth and Willow took this time for a bit of witch talk. And yet the collaboration did little to solve the mystery of why the Willow, Elizabeth had met at Frank’s party, wanted Elizabeth to meet her in this particular now.

  ***

  The Haas’s were special, especially their daughters. Hannah, the oldest at sixteen, was gorgeous. And the fourteen-year-old Laura was every bit her sister’s younger equal. Smart, sensitive, and gentle, the girls reminded Elizabeth of why witches spend so much of their time assisting humanity.

  Dinner turned out to be quite a treat. Elizabeth found the goulash scrumptious. Supplementing two bowlfuls with the three slices of freshly baked bread, also made the meal quite filling. The combination of good food and excellent company made Elizabeth entirely forget that the Haas’s had brought dessert.