by J. E. Lezah
“What you did is against the rules, Aldara.”
“How?”
“Because all sentient beings, mortal and magical alike, were given free will by the Goddess,” she quoted an axiom learned by all witchlings at the beginning of their training. “And…” Magnie drew out the word waiting for Aldara to finish the statement.
“And to tamper with a being’s free will is wrong in the eyes of the Goddess and the Universe.”
“Exactly.”
Aldara bit back the urge to remind her mother how often she had bent the will of her father, but this was obviously one of those “do as I say not as I do” parental teaching moments.
“Fine.” Aldara conceded. “I’ll speak to Giles and tell him he doesn’t have to come.”
“I believe that is for the best. You’ll see.” The mirror turned back to silver as Magnie faded from view.
9
Aldara floated the last of her bags down the staircase, and into the foyer of her home. Through the years she had embraced many of the day-to-day chores of the diamage. She enjoyed the physical motion of writing with pen on paper. Driving a car was another activity she enjoyed, but lifting heavy bags didn’t make her list of fun mortal activity.
She looked at the stately grandfather clock. “12:45”, she mumbled aloud. There was plenty of time for porters to pop in and claim her luggage. She had to admit having people waiting on her was one of the perks of being her father’s daughter.
“Already then?” Giles asked.
Aldara watched his reflection walk toward her, with Ismarelda leading the way. She still didn’t understand why having Giles join her was so important. It wasn’t as if she were traveling to an unknown realm where she needed someone to hold her hand. She was heading home for Merlin’s sake.
“Yes, I believe I am,” she answered.
“What about Ismarelda’s food?”
Aldara’s head bobbed around like a child looking for the basket Giles packed with snacks for her and Ismarelda. “Got it.” She held up the basket smiling at Giles’s thoughtfulness. Although she never thought of him as a servant, Aldara started to wonder if she had begun to treat him as one.
He did often cook for her, and help with household chores. Plus he never balked at tending to Ismarelda when she couldn’t. That didn’t make him her servant, did it?
Giles crossed his arms over his chest. “Looks like you’re ready then.”
Aldara looked up at him through ash – blonde lashes. She was never nervous around Giles, but something about this moment made her awkward. She felt as though she were saying good night at the end of the first date. What was a girl to do? Shake his hand? Hug him? Kiss? The latter didn’t seem so bad.
Oh. My. Goddess. What am I thinking? Aldara pushed the thought away. I knew I shouldn’t have hugged him. Say something you fruit bat before things get any weirder.
“Okay then.” She slapped a hand on her thigh causing Ismarelda to startle. "Come Ismarelda. Time to go.” The dog came to sit at Aldara’s feet. She attached a pink, rhinestone studded leash to Ismarelda’s matching collar. Turning toward to her right, Aldara reached for the needlepoint bell pull. The pull had been given to her by her father and connected this home to her Shadowfield mansion.
She pulled on the ancient fabric three times, with each tug she intoned the words. “Die Tür erscheint.”
A roar emanated from inside the wall growing louder and louder before an archway formed where sheet rock and wainscoting once were. Hoisting the strap of her bag over her shoulder, Aldara and Ismarelda took a step into the doorway.
“Aldara,” Giles blurted out and stepped toward her.
“Yes?”
“You will call me, won’t you? I mean… If you need anything."
“I will, but you should enjoy this time. Just think, you won’t be forced to watch Specter Hunters this week.”
“Still, if you need anything. Promise you will call."
“Of course, Giles," she said and stepped fully into the archway. She paused, turning slightly. “You know, it’s not too late. You can still come with us.” What was she doing? She had seen the look of relief that came over him when she told him he didn’t have to go. All in all, she understood that. What she didn’t understand was why his not wanting to go made her so agitated.
It’s not like he said he didn’t want to be with her, but that’s how she felt.
“Good.” He smiled and her heart flipped. Not a huge flip. More like a little hick up, but big enough for her to notice before the archway shrank, closing her off to the world of mortals.
As one archway closed, another opened behind her. There was little time to ready herself before the first squeals of her sisters met her ears.
“Aldara!” The unison voices of Zerlina and Zoe shrieked.
She hadn’t expected the twins to be waiting on her, nor had she expected such enthusiasm. Zerlina and Zoe wrapped Aldara in a double bearhug forcing her to release the hold she had on Ismarelda’s leash.
Realizing she was no longer tethered, the dog darted into the entrance and up the stairs, nose to the ground. “Marelda! Marelda!” She yelled for the dog, but it was no use. The last Aldara saw of Ismarelda was the fluff of her white tail as it disappeared down the hallway to the right.
“Don’t worry,” Zerlina said.
“Your pup will be fine,” Zoe added.
“No doubt,” Zerlina said.
“Going after,” Zoe said.
“The ferrets," they chimed in unison.
“Where’s your pool boy?” Zoe asked.
Aldara blinking confusion. “My what?”
“Your pool boy," the twins said.
“I don’t have a pool, Zoe"
“But you have a pool boy?
"That doesn't make sense."
“No,” Aldara said. “I don’t have pool or a pool boy. I have an assistant, but he didn’t come with me.”
“No pool?"
“No."
“No pool boy?"
“No.”
“Rat feathers,” they sang in unison.
Aldara hated to admit it had been so long since she had been around her sisters, she had forgotten how they finished each other sentences. They often spoke in unison, saying the exact same thing with the exact same intonation. It was kind of creepy, but they were her sisters. So, what could she do?
“There’s my beautiful daughters,” Magnie said placing life is Aldara’s cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” Aldara realized her statement may have been a bit more brusque than she intended.
“Can a mother not come to welcome her child back into the fold?” Magnie’s bright blue eyes stared up at her.
“Of course, she can. I assumed you would be too busy with preparations for the Gathering to come meet me.”
“Your father has it all in capable hands. Now that you are here.”
As usual, Aldara’s face gave away her shock at Magnie’s statement.
“The Regent Supreme is actually quite good at such things. Where do you think you get your penchant for the dramatic?”
Aldara looped an arm through her mother’s elbow. She didn’t want to speak to her father or where her love of theatrics came from. “I don’t think I’ve seen the castle so busy.”
“Much to finish before this evening’s ceremonies. Plus, three of the clans are staying with us.”
Aldara groaned. Being at home was difficult enough, but now her home would be filled with strangers.
“It won’t be too bad,” Zerlina chimed in.
Zoe added, “plenty of eligible bachelors to look at.”
“Just what I needed,” Aldara mumbled.
“What was that deer?” Her mother asked.
“Nothing, Mother. Nothing at all.” Aldara decided if she couldn’t say anything sociable she wouldn’t say anything at all. Walking arm in arm with her mother, Aldara listened as Zerlina and Zoe twittered on and on about this wizard or that witch. Sometimes she seriously won
dered if her mother adopted aliens. Her sisters were just so strange.
Finding a nice wizard to settle down with was the least of Aldara’s concerns, and if truth be told, she often felt like a hypocrite considering her chosen profession. She had to believe everyone deserved a happily ever after, and she did for everyone except her.
The group came to a halt at the door to her father’s office. "This is where we leave you,” Magnie said.
“What? Here?" Aldara whined a bit more than she expected. “But… Why?"
“Your father wishes to speak to you about your plans for the Gathering.” Her mother smiled at her. Aldara realized her sister’s cheery twittering had ceased, and they gazed at her with widened eyes.
Tears inadvertently stung the back of Aldara’s eyes.
“There’s no need to become upset, dear. It’s only your father. Not the Grand Inquisitioner.” Her mother tried to placate her.
Aldara knew it was only her father, but he was the one person who disapproved of most everything she had done.
The last time she had spoken to him in his office was the last day she called Shadowfield home. He had been so unreasonable and stubborn that day. Then again so had she.
She tried over and over to explain how she wanted to throw elegant parties and make people happy. All he wanted was for her to become his protégé and begin learning Council rules and regulations. No amount of pleading or begging would change her father’s mind. Aldara sniffed back a tear. The pain of that day still lingered in her heart.
“But….”
“No buts. He is expecting you.”
With a soft click, the doors to her father’s study cracked open. Aldara took a deep calming breath, squared her shoulders, and entered. She was surprised to see Ismarelda lying comfortably in her father’s lap. The dog sleepily acknowledged her presence, then promptly fell back into slumber.
“Lose something?” Her father asked.
“I’m sorry father. I’ll take her if you want.” Aldara reached for the dog
“Nonsense. It’s not often that Ismarelda gets to spend time with her Poppy.” Keene said nothing more. He simply continued stroking the dog’s head.
Little had changed in the room since she had been a child. The familiar aromas of Sandalwood and Frankincense. Without realizing it, Aldara let the tension release from her shoulders.
Memories of her childhood rushed back. Every time she was scared or upset, she would crawl beneath his desk, and cling to folds of his thick robes. There wasn’t an ogre or boogieman her father couldn’t vanquish. Aldara had been daddy’s little witch, totally and completely, and their falling out had been harder on her than she ever wanted to admit.
“Your mother tells me you planned on bringing the diamage with you.”
Acid churned in the pit of Aldara stomach. Rats, bats, and crickadats, she thought. Here we go. “The mortal is named Giles and he is my assistant.”
“Of course. Your assistant. I’m glad to see you came to your senses. You know how I feel about mortals being here.”
“Yes father,” she huffed. “I know of your prejudiced against everyone who is not a witch.”
“That is not true. I have nothing against the diamage, but when it comes to the Gathering and this realm, I prefer to keep them away.”
Aldara’s head dropped back resting on the softness of the velveteen chair. “What if one comes with one of the other clans or a werewolf or a vampire for that matter?”
“As much as it would displease me, those clans are not my issue.”
“That doesn’t make sense. It’s okay for them but not for me?”
“I understand it is a double standard. However, you are my daughter and next in line to be Regent Supreme.”
“That shouldn’t matter,” she argued.
“And yet it does.” Until that moment, Aldara never realized how much her father sounded like Alan Rickman. "She suddenly had the urge to ask him to say, “Mr. Potter,” but she figured now would be the absolute worst time to do so.
“Speaking of that,” Keene continued. “I have decided it is time for you to give up this nonsense and come home.”
Aldara’s heart skipped a beat. Surely, she had misunderstood him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Aldara. It is time you gave up your foolishness and returned to Shadowfield. There is much you need to learn if you are to replace me.”
The ringing in Aldara’s ears intensified with the rising of her blood pressure. She had not been home more than 30 minutes and already her father was trying to dictate her life.
“There’s plenty of time for that.”
No,” Keene demanded causing Ismarelda to step out of her stupor. “There is no more time for play. With most if not all of the clans here, and your agreeing to coordinate the Gathering, this would be the perfect time for you to announce your return. You must get your face out there. Let them know you’re ready to lead.”
“But I’m not. I’m not ready to lead,” she argued.
“My decision is final.” Keene leaned down, whispering something in Ismarelda’s ear. The dog looked around the room, searching. Soon it was obvious what she was looking for as Scuro fell to the floor. Aldara immediately recognized the darker of her mother’s ferrets.
Ismarelda jumped from Keene’s lap with an ear piercing, “Arf”, and began chasing the ferret around the desk.
With an almost imperceptible wiggle of Keene’s index finger, the door inched open enough for the ferret to make a hasty escape. Ismarelda huffed and snorted, until she was able to open the door enough for her body to squeeze through.
“Where’s Leggero?” Aldara asked.
Her father cut his glance toward the window where a pink nose peeked out from behind the drapes. “Go to your bother,” Keene spoke calmly to the animal. Leggero slid from the windowsill, and scurried off after his companions.
“Now, what are your plans for the opening ceremonies?”
***
Giles watched as the plaster and paint of the hallway returned to normal. Why Aldara went through the wall, and her father came through a clock he would never understand. Then again, there were many things about the world of witches he would never understand.
He listened to the silence of the house. Without Aldara and Ismarelda, it was as if the house lost something, and he realized that for the first time ever, he was alone inside the two-story Victorian he shared with Aldara.
“Right then,” he mumbled. “Lots to do.” He looked around aimlessly. Where was a man to begin. There was always socks to be sorted, or maybe he should color code the up coming parties and such. That would be a nice surprise for Aldara when she returned. Or maybe, just maybe he would take a book and enjoy the quiet of the garden in the fall.
Returning from his office, book in hand, Giles stopped in the kitchen long enough to grab a glass of tea, before proceeding to the garden.
He turned his face to the warmth of the sun, and breathed in the cool air. Stretching his legs out before him, Giles luxuriated in the late afternoon sun. The deep golden rays warmed his skin as he stretched his legs out before him, flipping open his book. “Ah, here we are,” he whispered and began to read.
It had been mere minutes when Giles heard what he thought was someone yelling to him. “Yoo hoo!” He looked toward the side fence where a pale hand waved at him over the garden gate.
Had he heard that right? He placed his book on the table next to him, listening. “Yoo Hoo! Mr. Giles!” That he heard.
With tentative steps he made his way to the gate, and peered through a small space between the slats. “Miss Storm?”
“Yes, Mr. Giles. I’m sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you might have a moment for me to interview you.”
Giles tilted his head to the left. It didn’t seem right that she would want to interview him. But he couldn’t just leave her outside the gate, that would be rude. With a hard click, the gate swung open. Before him stood Tempest Storm in all of her ultra-coiffe
d glory. Not a single eyelash was out of place.
“Did you say, interview me?” Giles felt the tightness of his grip on the gate latch. There was something about Tempest that made his hackles raise. That was, if he had hackles.
“I did,” she said, pushing past him. “What a beautiful garden.” Tempest ignored Giles’s protests and walked further along the path. “Did Aldara do all this?”
“Yes,” Giles answered, trying to head her off from going any further.
“Interesting,” she drew out the word before bringing her attention back to Giles. “Now, about out interview.”
He raised his hands to stop her. “Miss Storm, why would you want to interview me?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” she stepped closer, leaving scant inches between them. “You’re the mortal behind the witch.”
Giles swallowed as Tempest’s cherry colored nail tapped each button on his shirt from the collar to the waist. Grabbing her hand, he pulled it away with more force than he intended. “I apologize, but I don’t see how my and Aldara’s relationship is relevant to your story.”
She stepped even closer. “Aldara chose to live and work among the mortals. She works with a mortal. The story is about witches in the mortal world, it is quite relevant.”
Giles twisted his head down and too the side trying to block out the piercing whistle cutting through his right eardrum. The pain brought tears to his eyes, as his vision became blurred. What seemed to last for an eternity, in reality, lasted mere seconds.
The ringing dulled to a small roar, before disappearing with the thought left in his mind, “Your warning is now. Beware.”
“Giles. Giles. Is everything okay?”
He could feel the warmth of Tempest hand permeate his sleeve. Jerking back his arm, he stumbled a bit before righting himself. “Yes. Yes,” he said. “I’m perfectly fine. I get migraines from time to time. And I feel one coming on now.” He slipped his hand around her waist, and ushered her back toward the opened gate. “I really must go lie down.” He squinted his eyes closed for effect.
“Another time then?” Tempest stammered as Giles slammed the gate in her face, being extra careful to insure it was locked.
