by Iris Kincaid
“What happens if you leave town?” Beryl asked.
“We are as devoid of power as you yourselves have been for the entirety of your lives. I have ventured afar myself, on a few occasions. It was a terrible thing to feel my power seep away to nothing until I was as helpless and impotent as an ordinary mortal.”
“But that’s what we are,” Mosh protested. “It’s not so terrible.”
“Because we never lost anything so valuable to us. It was just our status quo. But imagine losing something that you treasure most about yourself,” Beryl noted.
“I should have known that The Lost One would understand,” Gwynifer said with satisfaction.
Beryl felt the eyes of the other two Shimmer girls fix on her.
“Why is she lost?” Mosh wondered.
“Because your father kept a close eye on all of you as best as he could. But he would not intervene in your lives, not in an obvious fashion. He made several trips out to check up on all of you. But you would not have been aware of his presence. He managed to conceal his identity, even stripped of his powers.”
“And he didn’t see fit to make himself known to us?” sputtered Lucinda.
“He had his reasons. But when Beryl was quite young, her foster family disappeared without warning. And bereft of his powers, Oberon could not find her.”
Lucinda took in a sharp breath. “Maybe he didn’t have powers when he left this town because he wasn’t surrounded by people who humored him and let him believe that he was a wizard. But you know what? That gives me a fantastic idea.
“I’ve been wracking my brains this past hour trying to figure out how we’re going to be able to contest this will and get ownership of the house and the cash inheritance without the insanity of being here for two years. So we can argue in court that if he was ranting about being a wizard, then he was not in his right mind, which invalidates the will, and being his only relations, we split his estate without any weird encumbrances.”
“Would that work?” Mosh asked hopefully.
“Absolutely. We just need a few witnesses to testify that he was a nutcase, and we’re free and clear.”
Beryl had not known her father, but still, she flinched at hearing him called a nutcase. But her offense was nothing compared to Gwynifer’s, who rose to her feet with thunderous fury.
“Nutcase! I cannot believe that I'm hearing such disrespect coming from one of his own daughters. A wizard of his stature and abilities deserves nothing but the highest gratitude and respect.”
“I just don't believe in witches and wizards. And I don't think the court system will either. I'm just being straight with you about what I think.
“You'll get to know that about me soon enough. I'm a straight shooter. I believe in complete honesty. A friend of mine once said that I should be put in a twelve-step program for compulsive honesty. And he was right. I don't believe in humoring people who can't deal with the truth. It’s what makes me so trusted in my business life.
“Now I know that there are some incredible magicians in this world. And maybe our father was one of them. And maybe you're one of them. But believing in witches and wizards is crazy. I'm sorry, but it is. And that's how we are going to be able to claim the inheritance, sell the property, and everyone walks away with a nice chunk of change.”
Gwynifer held her palms out toward Lucinda and lifted them. With a loud shriek, Lucinda realized that she was also being lifted upward. There were squeals and gasps from her sisters as well. They all witnessed her ascent to the ceiling, against which her entire body was plastered in horizontal fashion.
Gwynifer then turned toward Mosh. “I believe you were also someone who felt that only people with unfulfilled lives needed to believe in magic. Very well. Don't believe in it.”
And with another gesture from Gwynifer’s palms, a shocked Mosh joined Lucinda flat against the kitchen ceiling.
“No magic indeed. No witches. No wizards. Only nutcases. Like myself.” She turned to Beryl. “What about you, my dear? Would you like to join your sisters on the ceiling?”
“I actually would. Not because I don't believe you. I mean, what's not to believe? It's just that the whole defying gravity thing is pretty interesting to me.”
“Excellent. The curiosity of a scholar.”
And with that, Beryl felt herself gently lifted and watched the floor and kitchen table receding as she was laid gently beside her sisters, her own calm and fascination in marked contrast to their barely contained hysteria.
“Well, it's time for me to be on my way. I'll be back mid-morning to take you on a little field trip. That will give you a full night to take in the things that you have learned today. I will have answers for all of your questions. See you tomorrow.”
“You're not going to leave us like this, are you? Mosh asked frantically.
“If you want to get down, then you will have to get yourselves down. There's a rope over there in the corner. Perhaps you could try to pull yourself down with it. If you are without power, you will spend the entire night on the ceiling. If you are Earthborn, you’ll sleep in your beds tonight. Oh, and if you do manage to get down, don't even think about leaving. Goodnight.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Even Beryl felt a stab of panic at Gwynifer’s departure. That their new friend was a witch, and a talented one, was no longer in question. But that didn't mean that the three of them were going to be able to summon any magical resources.
“Stay calm. Breathe deeply. Deep yoga breaths,” Lucinda tried to soothe herself.
“What are we to do?” Mosh said. “Why would she do this to us?”
“Because Lucinda made her angry, and I hope you can restrain yourself from doing that again. Gwynifer and our father were close friends. So, she just lost someone very close to her. You can't insult him like that.”
“It wasn't so much an insult as a legal strategy, a strategy that would benefit all of us. But we have more pressing matters. Oh, no. My phone is in my purse down there. Does either of you have a phone on you that we can use to call for help?”
Beryl reached for her back pocket. Except that she was now wearing her beautiful new dress and no longer had a back pocket. She glanced around. “There is that rope that she was talking about.”
“And how on earth is that going to help us?” Lucinda said sharply. “We can't reach it.”
No, it was clearly not within reach. But the most knowledgeable authority on witches in their acquaintance had just told them that they should be able to get that rope. Instinctively, and without much hope, Beryl pointed her outstretched hand toward the rope. Oh, why couldn't it float to the ceiling the same way that they had?
And then it did! Within a matter of seconds, the end of the rope was gripped in Beryl’s fist.
“I can't believe this. We're witches. We actually are witches. I don't want to be a witch,” Mosh groaned.
“Why not?” Beryl asked, marveling at the rope in her hand.
“The rope isn't anchored to anything,” Lucinda noted. How can we pull ourselves down?”
The other end of the rope was still trailing the floor. Beryl knew how to tie a good firm knot. And she could see the perfect thing to tie it to—a door knob. Would it obey her outstretched hand again?
It did, and her sisters watched in hushed silence as the rope knotted itself around the door knob. When it was complete, Beryl pulled herself down to the ground right next to the door. As she tentatively let go of the rope, she was relieved to see that her feet remained solidly planted on the ground.
“Throw it up,” Lucinda said insistently.
Beryl almost did just that but then thought better of it. “Reach for it. Reach for it with your hand. And if you want it to come to you badly enough, then I think it will come to you.”
“Why can't you just throw it to us?” Mosh pleaded.
“Because she wanted us all to know that we could do it. After everything you two kept saying about not believing her, she wants to make sure that we
do believe. Reach out your hand.”
Mosh unenthusiastically put her hand out.
“I think you have to mean it. I think you have to want it.”
Mosh took in a deep breath and was clearly putting her full concentration on the rope. It worked and she was soon standing on the ground.
Lucinda did not look as if she was on board with taking her turn.
“It was you who got her so mad. Now reach for the rope or spend the night on the ceiling.” Beryl wasn't usually this harsh with people. But their inclination to sabotage her own security and inheritance was still weighing on her.
After it was clear that she wasn't going to get any assistance, Lucinda finally got herself down. Like Mosh, it took two tries.
“I think I want to spend the night in a hotel. I've gotta get out of here,” Lucinda said.
“I could use some fresh air,” Mosh said. “Just stand outside for a while. And then, who knows? If you go to a hotel, I just might join you.”
Easier said than done. All the doors to the outside world were locked. And there was no opening them.
“She told us not to leave,” Beryl reminded them. “She wanted us to get a good night's sleep and she promised to answer our questions tomorrow. So, we do as we're told and go to bed and see her in the morning.”
Hollywood Hot Shot and Bohemian Snowflake, as Beryl had begun to call them in her mind, exchanged a hopeless glance and reluctantly began to climb the long stairwell to their rooms.
In a dreamy daze, Beryl retired to her own room, changed into her own real pajamas, and climbed into her too-good-to-be-true bed.
Again, she admired the colorful, cozy, artistic room that Gwynifer had prepared for her. A few hours ago, all Beryl had wanted was security. She still did, desperately.
But now she also needed to know who she was, what she was, and what it all meant.
Like the inheritance, being a witch was something that had no appeal for her sisters because their lives were so fabulous. But she was starting with nothing, and being a witch was something. Something good? Something bad? At any rate, it was something given to her by her father. Like her green eyes.
It was unlikely that she would come up with any answers tonight. Time for sleep. Oh, but she had left the light on. Beryl sighed. Wouldn't it be nice if . . . ? She stretched an arm directly at the light switch and flicked a finger downward and found herself engulfed in darkness. Sweet. On. Off. On. Off. She could tell from the squeals of dismay coming from down the hall that her new sisters were making similar discoveries.
*****
The refrigerator was thoughtfully stocked, and Beryl was able to put together a satisfying breakfast of cheese omelets and fruit salad for the three of them. Not completely satisfying—the other two could not stop complaining about their cravings for a flat white. Beryl just wanted to tune their chatter out.
“Pass the pepper, please,” Beryl asked, perhaps too softly because no one responded.
“I have a ton of attorney friends back in LA. They'll tell us what our options are to invalidate the will,” Lucinda said. “I mean at this point, this place is freaking me out so much that I'm ready to just walk away with nothing. But of course, it would be better to walk away with some money. I sent a bunch of emails out this morning trying to get the 411 on this. We just need a plan.”
After everything that had occurred the previous evening, Beryl was fascinated and needed to know more and Lucinda just wanted to run away. Swell. Beryl’s future was a shaky three-legged stool that was about to have two legs cut off.
“The pepper,” Beryl repeated impatiently. “Could someone please pass me the pepper?” No need. The pepper passed itself, landing right into Beryl’s outstretched palm, which momentarily shut the other two into silence.
“It's true. It's really true. We are witches,” Mosh said.
“Of course, it's true,” Beryl said, wondering why her sisters were having such a hard time accepting it.
“It will all go away after we've left this town, and it will just seem like a bad dream,” Lucinda said.
Mosh scooped up some orange seeds from her plate and tossed them into the garbage.
“Sorry,” Beryl apologized. “I thought I had gotten all the seeds out.”
“No problem,” Mosh said. “They were really sweet. Perks of being in Florida, I guess.”
Lucinda’s phone rang, and she took a quick look at the text and groaned. “My ex-brother wants to hit me up for another loan.”
“What's an ex-brother?” Mosh inquired.
“He was from my foster family. I think that my foster parents actually liked me better than they liked him. They paid for my Stanford tuition and board, and they told him that he had to pay for his own education. I guess they must have thought that I was the better investment.”
It was the second mention of a foster family.
“Why were you with a foster family?” Beryl asked.
“My mother died when I was just a baby. Cancer.”
“Wow. Mine too. When I was just one year old,” Mosh said. “Leukemia.”
They turned to Beryl warily, and she nodded grim conformation.
“Heart attack. She was only thirty-six.”
They sat silently, lost in thought. Gwynifer could not arrive quickly enough. There were too many questions that needed to be answered.
*****
Gwynifer arrived with a big smirk on a face. “You found your way off the ceiling. Then you're ready to hear everything. Why don't we take a little ride over to the canyon? You can't come to Marvel Canyon and not see the canyon.”
“All right. I rented a Lexus at the airport. I can drive,” Lucinda quickly volunteered.
Beryl correctly surmised that her sister did not want to wind up in someone's humdrum economy car. Especially not hers. Lucinda’s selection was indeed a high-end luxury vehicle, and they all settled in with great comfort.
“There's a TV back here,” Mosh noted. “Cool. I didn’t notice that earlier.”
“I'm sure I can keep you more entertained than anything on that screen,” Gwynifer chided. “Are you ready to hear?”
The three sisters nodded in unison.
“All right. Drive, and I will begin.”
“So, our father had three children with three different women who were just passing through his town?” Lucinda prompted.
“You think your father was some kind of ladies’ man, hooking up with random women and mindlessly scattering his seed throughout the land? I think he would have laughed to hear that.
“No, you were all brought into the world with deliberate intention. Oberon was determined to have children. And that the babies should be raised with no knowledge of their Earthborn legacy. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me begin at the beginning. Oh, take a right here, and follow the signs to the park entrance.
“Now, the history of the relationship between the Earthborn and the Moles of Marvel Canyon is a long and troubled one.”
“Moles? What are Moles?” Mosh asked.
“They are the ordinary. The ungifted. We, the Earthborn, are those who rise from the Earth, filled with its power, and the Moles are those who remain below the Earth, blind, weak, and limited.”
“You mean, ordinary people like we are?” Mosh asked.
“Like you were,” Gwynifer reminded them.
“Seems a bit . . . pejorative,” Lucinda objected.
“Your father did urge us to refer to them as The Many. But old habits die hard. You’ll most commonly hear them referred to as Moles.
“In any case, one hundred years ago, a travesty occurred whose implications are still being felt today.
“Three young innocents of our kind naively ventured beyond the protective borders of Marvel Canyon. I cannot fault them. We are all tempted by curiosity to venture and see the world beyond our town, and it usually happens without incident. But they were ambushed. They were falsely accused of some tragically unsolved murder. And they were killed.
&n
bsp; “Afterward, this town was poised to be torn apart by a bloody war. Witches versus Moles. Earthborn against The Many. It would have been a fight to the death, they with the greater numbers and we with the greatest strength. There would've been no shortage of casualties on either side. One kill would have been avenged by another until . . . An all-out war was only averted because it was in their own self-interest. Because too many of them had been accused of being witches and threatened with death.”
“Like Salem?” Beryl wondered.
“Precisely. The accused who were burned at the stake in that particular tragedy were ordinary Moles, and eventually, they had to put an end to their own self-destruction.
“And the same here. A mutual decision was arrived at to keep the peace. One of the compromises the Earthborn made is that we do not practice our talents as freely and openly as we should like. It frightens them. And that fear can create danger for us.
“The one restraint that we must never violate—we must not exercise our abilities to force them to act against their will. The prospect terrifies them, which is rather understandable. And it would almost certainly destroy what peace we have managed to maintain.
“Ah, here we are. This is the forest that surrounds the canyon. We’ll get out here and walk the rest of the way. It’s a very peaceful place, I think you’ll find.”
Lucinda pulled into a small parking area, and they all climbed out and scrambled to keep up with Gwynifer’s brisk steps.
“Your family home used to belong to another Earthborn family, the Cassadays. It was their girls who were ambushed and killed a century ago. And as Mr. Godfrey mentioned, their spirits haunted the house from the time of their deaths to throughout much of your father’s life. He had a talent for reaching over to the other side to the dead. He could see them and hear them, not always to his benefit. I believe he was kept awake on many an occasion listening to their weeping and lamenting.”
“What were they lamenting?” Mosh asked.
