Awakening (Birth of Magic #1)

by P. T. Dilloway

  “But will I ever be able to trust her again? After all of this—”

  “Ethan, that girl loves you. She’s mixed-up right now, but once she comes around I’m sure things will be just like they used to be.”

  “When she was a Nazi spy using me to steal my project?”

  “Ethan—”

  “She’s never going to be the same girl again.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t even look the same. She looks like you now.”

  “I noticed.”

  “Every time I look at her, I’m going to wonder if she really cares about me or if she’s playing a game with me again.”

  “You have to at least give her a chance. Isn’t that what you would want?”

  He considered this for a moment and then nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Without my realizing it, we were approaching the enclosed bridge between the old prisons and the interrogation rooms of the Doge’s Palace. This bridge was called the Ponte dei Sospiri or later as the “Bridge of Sighs.” I put a hand to my mouth, feeling seasick as I saw the bridge. Not because of the water, but because of the memories.

  Marco had taken me to the bridge. He had timed everything perfectly so that our gondola would coast beneath the Bridge of Sighs at sundown. “What are we doing here?” I had asked Marco.

  “It’s a local superstition that if you kiss beneath the bridge at sunset, your love will last forever,” he said.

  “Did you kiss Alexis here?”

  “No, but I want to kiss you here.” He leaned forward to kiss me on the lips. I resisted at first, but then I kissed him back. Our love was supposed to last forever, but it had lasted just six weeks, until we met in Florence. Though maybe the superstition was right; I still loved Marco in spite of everything. I probably always would.

  Ethan took me into his arms just a moment before I began sobbing. He held on to me as we drifted beneath the bridge where everything except love was doomed.

  ***

  The hotel where Marco and I had stayed was still there. We had stayed under his name, with me as his wife. That was the closest I ever came to being Mrs. Stephanie Gallo; the closest I would ever get now.

  I had managed to get myself under control enough for Ethan and I to register as Mr. and Mrs. Cooper, recently arrived from America and on our honeymoon. “Congratulations,” the clerk said in accented English. He offered us the honeymoon suite for our stay. We refused, but finally caved in once he offered to charge us only for a normal room.

  “That’s real nice of you,” Ethan said.

  “It is the least I can do for young lovers like yourselves,” the clerk said. “After all, you only get one first honeymoon.”

  I told the bellhop our luggage would be arriving later, which allowed us to go unescorted up to our room. It was the same suite where Marco and I stayed over a hundred years ago. The furniture was different, but I could still feel his presence in the room. Like a ghost I floated into the bedroom, where his presence was the strongest. When I closed my eyes, I could feel the warmth and smell the sweat of his body as we made love. I could feel his hand run through my hair and his voice whisper, “I love you, Mademoiselle Stephanie.”

  I might have embarrassed myself tremendously if Ethan hadn’t shaken me. “Is something wrong?” he asked. “We can get another room if you want.”

  “No, this is fine.” I sank down on the bed and although it wasn’t the same mattress, it felt the same to me. I couldn’t resist closing my eyes and sniffing at the linens, hoping to recapture his scent.

  My eyes snapped open as I remembered Ethan was still in the room. His face had gone pale and his eyes bulged as he stared at me. “I’ll take the sofa,” he said.

  “No, Ethan, don’t go,” I said, not wanting to be left alone with my memories of Marco. I patted the mattress beside me. “You remember that night on the ship?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need you now just like that.” He didn’t look any less horrified yet. “Please.”

  He wanted to turn me down, but he remembered what had happened on the Gardenia, when I had held on to him all that night as he tried to recover from Celia’s “death.” He finally sighed and nodded. “All right,” he said.

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  Since we had more covers than on the steamer, we were able to split them so we were wrapped separately. I could still feel the warmth of Ethan’s body pressed close to mine as we lay in the darkness. Despite the close proximity of him, Marco’s ghost lingered in the room.

  “Ethan, there’s something I should tell you.”

  “About being a witch?”

  “No. About this place. I’ve been here before. With my lover. It was a long time ago—a hundred twenty years. I looked about the same as I do now. I came here with a man—a wonderful, gentle man named Marco.”

  “That’s all right. I’m not jealous.” I saw his teeth as he smiled at me, trying to lighten the mood. I didn’t want it lightened at the moment, though.

  “It’s not all right. Marco was married to my sister. They had three sons. Three beautiful, sweet little boys. I betrayed all of them.”

  I told Ethan the rest of it. All of it: how Alexis had asked me to become a little girl again, how I had fallen in love with Marco the first time I saw him, and how I ran away from home because of my jealousy. I managed to keep from crying as I gave him an abbreviated version of my years on the run, first at Frau Braun’s farm and then on my own. “After a while, once I became an adult again, I thought I could handle it. I thought maybe it had all been a stupid little girl crush. But it wasn’t.”

  Ethan didn’t say anything; he just held my hand and nodded while I told him about going home again for Luc’s birth. While Marco and I waited by a fire outside, he had said, “You’ve become a beautiful young woman, Mademoiselle Stephanie.” He leaned in close to me, one hand brushing the hair from my face.

  “Please don’t,” I whispered to him. I could have stopped him as easily as killing a fly, but I didn’t. After all these years I still wanted him to kiss me. So I let him and then I kissed him back.

  “It was later that we made love for the first time, in the forest on the grounds.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at Ethan anymore as I reached this part of the story. “We kept meeting whenever we could. Most of the time we met here, in Italy. Until we came to Venice. We went to all the same places back then as you and I did today. Right down to this hotel, maybe even this bed.”

  I felt Ethan’s hair touch my hair, brushing it away as Marco had done. “It’s all right, Stephanie. It’s not your fault.”

  “I betrayed my sister. She’s never done anything to me and yet I did something that terrible to her.”

  “Have you ever told her?”

  “No, I couldn’t. She still loves him. She still has his name after all these years.” I shook my head. “It would kill her if she found out.”

  Ethan said nothing for a minute and then he nodded. “I promise I won’t say anything.”

  “Thank you.” Though since the three of us could all be dead tomorrow that promise might not mean a whole lot. “I’m sorry about Celia. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I know.” Just like on the steamer and later on the lifeboat we lay in bed, clinging to each other for dear life throughout the night. My heart did feel lighter after telling Ethan my darkest secrets; now I understood what the Catholics saw in confession. But I could still feel Marco there, watching me. No, the shame couldn’t be lifted so easily.

  Chapter 20

  I woke up before Ethan did. I slipped out of his embrace and then padded into the bathroom, a welcome addition from the last time I’d stayed here. I caught my reflection in the mirror and grimaced. I looked like a mess: eyes red and hair disheveled. I probably didn’t smell much better either. Not that Alexis was going to care what I would smell like when I came to make the exchange.

  The shower was lukewarm at best, but it did give me some tim
e to think. There wasn’t much point in fooling around, not until I knew what we were dealing with. If this Chairwoman knew all of my secrets, then she would probably be able to guess what I would do before I could do it. I didn’t have much doubt that she would be the one calling the shots; she might even be behind the entire Nazi operation. That was a thought I didn’t want to think too deeply about, especially if Gretel was the Chairwoman. She’d never claimed to have any interest in the affairs of mortals, but that might just be a clever cover story. Or she might have gotten sick of hiding in the shadows and decided to start taking control of the world.

  In any case, my first duty was to my sister. Alexis had always been there for me, though most of the time I’d been too stubborn to seek her help. I wouldn’t let these Nazi bastards kill her. If they had, then I would make them pay. I’d burn the whole Nazi regime to the ground, starting with Hitler and Berlin.

  I hadn’t brought any clothes with me from Casablanca, so I had to dress in the same outfit I’d been wearing when the prefect arrested me. I could use Alexis’s skills to sew up a couple of holes and to fix the hem that had become ragged. Maybe later, once we got her back. After the shower I looked less like a madwoman, but I didn’t feel much more confident about any of this.

  Ethan was just waking up as I stepped back in the bedroom. “Good morning,” I said, trying to sound as chipper as I could manage. “Sleep all right?”

  “Like a baby,” he said.

  “Good. The shower’s a little cold.”

  “That’s fine. A cold shower will help wake me up.” He brushed past me, a shy grin on his face. I went back through my memories, trying to remember if we had done anything last night. No, we had just shared the bed and cuddled; that was probably as close to sex as Ethan had managed. Providing we survived this, I might have to set him straight about a few things.

  While I waited for him to clean up, I used the traveling spell on my jacket to call it back from Casablanca. The jacket was a little wet, but none the worse for wear. Searching the pockets, I found everything where I’d left it, including my old Colt. I opened the chamber to check the load. If I had more time and the right equipment I could give the weapon a good cleaning, but I’d just have to hope for the best. If we were lucky, it wouldn’t come to any shooting.

  Ethan looked about as fresh as possible under the circumstances when he came out of the bathroom. He was still wearing that same grin, at least until he saw me with the Colt. “I thought you threw that off the plane.”

  “I keep a spell on it and the jacket so I can get them back.” I clicked the Colt shut. “They don’t make them like this anymore.”

  “Why do you need a gun anyway? You have magic—”

  “It’s a lot easier to kill demons and bogeymen with a gun or crossbow,” I said. “If I’d used magic that night in your bedroom, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t feel bad, there’s a lot about magic I still don’t understand.”

  “Really? I would have thought after four hundred years—”

  “Every witch has a discipline. Mine is killing monsters. Alexis’s is making potions.”

  He must have heard my voice change when I mentioned Alexis. His smile returned, though it didn’t quite go with his eyes. “We’ll get her back. You’ll find a way.”

  “Yeah, I’ve done a good job with everything so far.”

  “Stephanie—”

  “Skip it. Let’s get going.”

  I took his hand and we vanished to Florence.

  ***

  The amphitheater didn’t look much different than the last time I’d been here. The main difference was more of the Italian soldiers we’d seen in Venice were surrounding the place. They were blocking the entrances to keep the public out and I was sure they had a few snipers up in the seats to kill us if things went bad. Or at least they would try to kill us.

  I vanished us right onto the center of the grassy field where once I’d imagined seeing my daughter. Ethan blinked a few times and then went pale when he saw the soldiers. The reality began setting in for him that this wasn’t going to be easy. “Where’s your sister?” he asked.

  “That’s a good question. Let’s find out.” I raised my arms and then called out in Italian, “My name is Stephanie Joliet. I’ve come for my sister. Who is in charge here?”

  The man who stepped forward wasn’t an Italian. He was a beefy blond with blue eyes and a swastika on the arm of his black uniform. He answered in German, “Your sister will be here soon. I see you have brought your friend.”

  “That’s right, I’ve brought Mr. Fraser. If you want to get your grubby hands on him, you’d better make with my sister fast.”

  “I assure you that she will be here very shortly. In the meantime, have a seat, won’t you?”

  I grumbled at this, but decided at least for the moment to play ball with him. I took Ethan’s arm to lead him over to the bleachers. I took him up to the same row where my affair with Marco had finally ended. Looking down on the grassy plain, I again thought of the little girl I’d seen, the one with Marco’s face and my eyes. She was dead now; she had probably died before this century began. Did she have any children? Was a part of my love for Marco still alive somewhere?

  Ethan shook my shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “I wish you’d stop asking me that.”

  “You just look really sad all of the sudden.”

  I told him about what happened the last time I’d come here. “I had hoped the baby would bring us together, but it just tore us apart.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “What happened to your baby?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  “You don’t know?”

  “I gave her up for adoption.” I raised my finger before he could say anything else. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

  “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

  There wasn’t any more time for conversation as I saw the guards by the entrance tunnel parting. Two SS men came through first, machine guns at the ready. Behind them were three hooded figures. Probably the blond girls I’d run into at the castle. Maybe Alexis was amongst them. Maybe they had brainwashed her into joining them.

  But then I saw a fourth hooded figure, this one pushing a wheelchair. I began running down the steps, not caring how any of the guards reacted. I knew something was wrong. I didn’t know what until I reached the bottom of the steps.

  The SS guards took a step off to the side to allow the hooded figures to step forward. They drew back their hoods and as expected they were the same three blond girls I’d fought before. They didn’t say anything, just took a step to let the wheelchair through.

  Alexis was in the chair, but not the Alexis I had left behind. It wasn’t even the elderly seamstress I’d lived with for fifty years in Rampart City. This Alexis was even older, her hair entirely white and the skin of her wrinkled face sagging as if it were made of wax and being held up to an open flame. Even her eyes had lost their luster, having turned cloudy from cataracts.

  The figure behind the wheelchair let her hood drop as well. Celia’s face grinned at me like back in Casablanca. “We meet again,” she said.

  ***

  Ethan caught me before I could throw myself at Celia and wring the life from her. “What have you done to my sister?” I shouted.

  “Stephanie?” Alexis said, her voice sounding like someone crumpling newspaper. “Is that you?”

  I knelt down in front of the chair and touched her wrinkled cheek. Her head turned in my direction, but her eyes refused to focus on me. “I’m here, Alexis. I’m here to rescue you.”

  “There’s no need, dear. My grandbabies are looking after me.” She waved a hand feebly towards the blond girls standing off to the side.

  “Alexis, your grandchildren are dead. So are your great-grandchildren. Don’t you remember?” She only coughed in reply to this. When her head sagged down onto her chest, I thoug
ht for a moment she might be dead. Then I saw her stomach rise and fall; she was just sleeping. I looked back up at Celia. “What did you do to her?”

  “The Chairwoman said you’d be familiar with this. Except she’s made it more potent than last time.”

  I stared at Alexis, but instead of her face I saw Mama’s. Our mother who had begun to wither away when she could no longer use her magic. Except that process had taken months, not two days. “You sons of bitches,” I growled. “When she dies—”

  “She won’t die. At least if you give us what we want.” One of the blond girls reached into her pocket for a silver vial. She passed this over to Celia. “Alexis’s life in exchange for Ethan. I think that’s a fair trade, don’t you?”

  It was Ethan’s turn to need held back before he could grab Celia’s neck. “How could you?” he shouted at her. “The girl I met at Cuthbert couldn’t do something like this! She was sweet and good and innocent—”

  “She was a lie,” Celia snapped. “A cover story I made up so we could get what we wanted.”

  “No, you can’t be that good of a liar. Some part of you had to be that Celia. Some part of you is still that girl. You don’t want to kill Stephanie’s sister and you don’t want to work for these monsters. Let’s put an end to this. We can go back home and start over again.”

  For just a moment it looked as if Celia would go for it. Her mouth twitched and her eyes softened as she looked at him. Just as quickly the moment ended. She reached into her robe for one of her knives. She held this to Alexis’s throat. “I’ll kill her right now if you say another word.”

  I gently pushed Ethan back. “Don’t,” I said. “We’ll figure something out.”

  He looked down at the ground with tears sparkling in her eyes. “I don’t know her anymore,” he said.

  “It’ll be all right.” I turned to face Celia again. Maybe it was my imagination, but Alexis seemed to have aged a few years while we had been sitting here. “How do I know that will actually cure her?”