A Spell for Trouble

by Esme Addison

She waited for Lidia and her cousins to join her in the joke, but their faces remained somber. Minka gently bumped Alex’s shoulder with her own and said, “No, Mom’s serious. We’re witches.”

  Alex glanced back and forth at each of the women, but their faces gave nothing away. She nodded slowly. “Oh. Interesting.”

  So her aunt and cousins imagined themselves to … have powers? She shifted in her seat. This conversation had taken a turn for the bizarre. Maybe it was time to think about sending out her résumé and moving on.

  “I don’t even like the term witches,” Lidia continued. “We’re so much more than that.”

  “Some of us are,” Kamila said in a pointed tone. “Others of us choose to live a less complicated lifestyle.”

  “Sure,” Alex agreed mechanically.

  “Alex, it’s true.” Minka reached for Alex’s left hand. “You remember what happened with your finger, right? You had that terrible cut, and then it vanished?”

  Alex had been so distracted over the last few days that she hadn’t even thought about the incident. She’d assumed … actually, she hadn’t come up with any rational explanation. But now she was remembering all of that blood, and how unlikely it was that she would not have needed stitches after an injury like that, let alone a Band-Aid. “That—what did you do?”

  “I healed you.” Minka grinned. “Like I said, we’re witches.” She squeezed Alex’s hand. “And you are, too.”

  “No.” Alex shook her head. “I’m not a witch. Definitely not. I’ve never done anything magical in my life.”

  “All of the Sobieskis are magical,” Lidia said. “It’s in our DNA. You used to sit in the garden by the mermaid fountain and make the water leap for joy. Do you remember that?”

  Alex pinched her leg. No, she wasn’t dreaming, and she definitely did not recall that. “No way. I would remember something as amazing as that.”

  Lidia’s smile fell. “It’s all of that time living as a Mundane,” she explained. “You’ve forgotten how to be magical.”

  Alex’s vision swam for a moment, and she felt light-headed, as if she’d fall if she wasn’t already sitting. “Mundane?”

  “Mundane means nonmagical,” Minka explained, then leaned forward on an elbow. “Mom, maybe you should start at the beginning. This is a lot of information for Alex to digest.”

  “Of course,” Lidia agreed. “I’m just excited for you to finally learn the truth about yourself. Stay right there; I’ll get the book.”

  Once Lidia left the room, Kamila rose and hastily picked up her plate and mug. “I’m out of here,” she announced. “I want no part of this.” She dropped her dishes into the dishwasher and left the room.

  Alex watched her go. “What’s that about?” she asked Minka. The television blared from the next room.

  “Don’t mind Kam,” she said. “There are some Magicals who choose not to practice. She’s one of them. She doesn’t think Mom and I should practice, either.”

  When Lidia returned, she was holding a dusty book bound with soft, worn green leather. She glanced at Kamila’s empty seat but didn’t remark before setting the book on the table and opening to the first page. “Now. This is the family tree,” she began, pointing to a list of names carefully written in ancient lettering. “Our family history begins in Poland in the sixteenth century. You remember the Syrenka Warszawska, the Mermaid of Warsaw, of course.”

  Alex hesitated to confess that she had no idea what her aunt was talking about, but if she wanted answers, she’d have to ask for them. “I don’t. I’m sorry.”

  Lidia appeared crestfallen. “Oh, I thought for sure your father would have—that’s fine,” she continued. “The Mermaid of Warsaw is something of a legend in Poland, though of course we know it’s true. A trio of fisherman noticed that whenever they went fishing, the waves were stronger than normal, their nets were always getting tangled, and their fish were set free. At night they watched the river and discovered a beautiful syrena, a mermaid, was the cause of their problems. They captured her, but she enchanted them with her singing and they set her free.”

  Alex thought back to Pepper’s suggestion that she had enchanted Jack Frazier. That couldn’t possibly be true … could it?

  “But then a wealthy business owner trapped her, placed her in a prison with plans to profit from her uniqueness.”

  Minka made a face. “You mean he wanted to treat her like a freak show.”

  Lidia patted her daughter’s leg. “A lesson we can all learn from. We have to always guard our secret lest others try to profit from our abilities.” She turned back to her niece. “The fishermen heard her pleas for help and set her free. She was so grateful for their kindness that she vowed to use her magical abilities to protect the city and its people. Her image has been on the Warsaw coat of arms since the fourteenth century, and statues of her stand all over Warsaw with a shield and sword to represent her fierce protectiveness. She was apparently an impressive warrior when she wanted to be.”

  “Here,” Minka said, reaching for her cell phone. “I’ll show you.” She searched online until she found an image and showed Alex the screen. “This is just one of many statues of her. This one is overlooking the Vistula River.”

  Alex looked at the photograph. The statue was intimidating in size, but the mermaid was beautiful and elegant, even as her arm rose above her holding a sword. “Impressive. We’re descended from her?”

  Minka nodded, fairly bursting with pride.

  “And that’s why the …” She gestured toward the mermaid fountain outside. “Fountain?” She almost laughed, except her throat was tight and dry. “Like an inside joke?”

  “Not a joke,” Lidia said carefully. “A reminder. Of who we are. What we are.”

  Alex mentally stumbled over the what we are response, but tried to think rationally. Tried to process the overwhelming information her family was giving her. She glanced at the photo on Minka’s screen again, blinking until her vision stopped swimming. “What’s with the sword and shield? That’s not a part of any mermaid stories I’ve heard in the past.”

  Lidia laughed. “Apparently she had a gentle temperament and a kind heart, but she was certainly not the Little Mermaid, though some believe the two were sisters.” Alex’s eyes widened, but her aunt only waved her hand. “That’s another story for another time. All you need to know is that she used her powers for good. She protected those who couldn’t protect themselves.”

  “Yeah,” Minka chimed in. “At the end of the day, that’s what it’s about. That’s why we heal.” Her face turned pink with excitement. “That’s why we help. The age-old story of good prevailing over evil. Kamila likes to think she’s not a part of this, but she’s a cop, for goodness’ sake. She has the urge to protect, too; she just does it in a Mundane way.”

  Alex gazed at her cousin, impressed by her passion for the family history. She was certainly enthusiastic about their heritage.

  “The folklore is mistaken, though,” Minka continued. “Because the mermaid didn’t return to the sea. She fell in love with one of the fishermen that saved her.” She grinned. “So that part is like the Danish folktale. She traded her life in the water for a life on land, and her agreement was to protect not just the city of Warsaw, but humans in general.”

  “What agreement?” Alex asked.

  “With the Warsaw community,” Lidia explained. “She was clever. When she chose to spend more time on land—whatever that looked like, we’re not sure—she knew life could be dangerous. Becoming a protector for others meant she was protected herself.” Lidia turned a page in the old book. “The Warsaw community knew she was a mermaid, but she was so valuable to them as a healer that if anyone made trouble for her, the others would work together to keep her and her family safe.”

  “She’s the first magical Sobieski,” Minka said. “She’s the reason we have these … abilities. Apparently, she had several daughters, and they were able to switch between human and mermaid form. Eventually they all left Polan
d to start new lives where they could live as humans and settled in other areas—the British Isles, Asia, the Americas, Africa. Many countries and cultures have folktales related to mermaids. And their children, like our ancestor that helped found Bellamy Bay, lost the ability to transform into mermaids.” She wiggled her bottom in her seat with a grin. “No fish tails.”

  “Here, you can read it for yourself sometime,” Lidia said as she turned the yellowed pages of the book. “Dozens and dozens of pages tracing our family history, all the way to the present day. Around here”—she pointed to a name and date from the end of the seventeenth century—“our family began to immigrate to the colonies. Had they remained in Poland, they may have experienced something like the Doruchów witch trials. What we do can be very dangerous.” She turned to a point later in the book, where someone had drawn a map in ink. “We settled in Bellamy Bay—or the area, at least. It didn’t become Bellamy Bay until years later. But the Sobieski men made a good living as fishermen—shrimpers, mostly—and the Sobieski women became renowned as healers.”

  “Our ancestors delivered healthy babies and saved many people from infectious diseases like malaria, the yellow fever, and smallpox,” Minka said, brimming with pride. “This town thrived because of them.”

  “It’s true,” Lidia agreed. “Even though the town is named after the Bellamys, the Sobieskis are the reason that family settled here. You can read about it in journals from that time. Townspeople report that their children were on the brink of death until one of our ancestors intervened, or that someone was kicked by a horse but survived because a Sobieski cleaned the wounds and set the broken bones.”

  Alex was transfixed by the tale and their sincerity. They believed this history, and so did people like Pepper Bellamy. Was it possibly true? “So we have healing powers?”

  “Exactly. We’re water witches, for lack of a better term,” Lidia replied. “We can manipulate water—anything with moisture, really. But we can also harness the power of nature, especially the elements of rain, snow—”

  “Air,” Minka added, with a nod toward her mother. “That’s how Mom picked up Randy Bennett that time, because there’s water in air.”

  Alex remembered feeling a gust of wind each time Lidia’s vicious temper appeared. “The jars on the shelves rattled,” she said. “Even the windows seemed to shake.”

  “Oh yeah,” Minka said. “Mom creates a vortex when she’s angry.”

  Lidia took the charges in stride and reached for a serving of gingerbread. “I’m working on my temper. But yes, we can heal,” Lidia continued. “And we take our ancestor’s pledge to protect humans very seriously, only using our powers for good.”

  “Before you ask,” Minka said, “no, we can’t bring people back from the dead. People used to get angry at the Sobieskis because they couldn’t do that.”

  “That’s why some started calling us witches, ironically enough,” Lidia explained. “They were angry and wanted to hurt our ancestors, who they had perceived as denying them help. And with all of the terrible baggage that comes with that word—the trials and burning innocent women—calling the Sobieski women witches put a target on their backs. And I still disagree with using that label, by the way. Minka tells me I need to embrace it.”

  “We can’t fight it, so we try to own it,” she said.

  Thoughts swirled in Alex’s head. Minka pushed the plate of sliced poppy-seed roll toward her. “You look like you could use some cake.”

  Absently, Alex placed a slice on a dish. She was still trying to understand. “So our great-great-grandmother … she was a bad witch?”

  “Oh, right, I was getting there,” Lidia said. “No sweetie, she wasn’t bad at all. She was practicing self-defense, and it went terribly wrong.”

  “The Wesleys are magic, too,” Minka said. “You have to explain that, Mom.”

  “Yes, yes. After the Sobieskis arrived from Warsaw, the area began to prosper and other mermaid families followed, including the Wesleys. Of course, back then they were Wasilewskis.”

  “Wait.” Alex set her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. This was dizzying. “Are we related to the Wesleys?”

  “Technically, all mermaids are related, but it would be something like first cousins twenty times removed. Not worth mentioning,” Lidia said, again gesturing to the book. “But what happened long ago was that Jakub Wesley fell in love with Zofia Sobieski, your great-great-grandmother. Or perhaps he fell in love with the idea of combining two very powerful families, I don’t know. But Zofia was in love with someone else, a Mundane.”

  “The Sobieski women have always loved Mundanes,” said Minka.

  “Right. So Jakub fell in love with Zofia, and when she didn’t return his affection, he became aggressive. He held her down and tried to force an enchanted ring on her finger, and she panicked and used her magic to force him away.” Lidia sighed. “In her fear, she miscast her magic. Jakub died of a brain aneurysm, and the Wesley family has always blamed our family for that and demanded an apology.”

  “But that’s not right,” Alex said. “She was only protecting herself.”

  “Now you understand,” Minka said. “This has been going on for decades. The Wesleys think Zofia murdered Jakub, and we believe Jakub had it coming.”

  “Minka,” Lidia warned.

  “You know it’s true.” Minka sat back in the stool like a sulky teenager. “According to history, Jakub Wesley was the worst.”

  They must have had this discussion before, considering the way Lidia looked to the ceiling. “Both families feel strongly that their ancestor was wronged. But Zofia went on to marry the love of her life. They had a beautiful little girl, and that was your great-grandmother.”

  Alex plucked at her food. She was too preoccupied to actually eat. The story was great, but how could any of this actually be true? She folded her hands and looked at the women around her. “Okay, you say we’re witches. Prove it.”

  “You want a parlor trick?” Lidia slid off her stool. “Watch this.”

  She retrieved a glass from the cabinet, set it on the counter, and turned on the faucet above the sink. At first the water fell into the sink as usual, but then Lidia’s eyebrow cocked. Suddenly the water from the faucet arched and fell neatly into the drinking glass. “There,” Lidia said, and shut off the faucet again. “That’s a basic one.”

  Alex’s mouth hung open. “Oh my gosh …”

  Minka squeezed Alex’s arm. “We can control thoughts, too,” she said eagerly. “And read minds.”

  “What?” Alex whipped her head from her cousin to her aunt.

  “Now Minka,” Lidia said. “I think poor Alex is overwhelmed as it is.”

  But her cousin leaned over to whisper, “I’ll teach you how to do it later.”

  Alex stared at her hands. Was she actually capable of working this kind of magic herself? She’d never accomplished anything like it, and wouldn’t know where to begin. She stared at Lidia, seeing her differently. “What about my mother? Was she also magical?”

  Her aunt’s face brightened at the question. “Oh yes. Bianca was the most powerful of our kind to be born in generations. A force to be reckoned with.”

  Alex frowned. If her mother had been so powerful, then how come she had never seen any of that magic? Surely she would have remembered something like that. As if reading her thoughts, Minka reached up to stroke Alex’s hair affectionately and say, “Your father didn’t like magic. He asked her not to use it, and she agreed.”

  Alex froze in her seat. “You mean Dad knew about all of this?”

  “Yes, Robert knew all of it,” Lidia confirmed. “And he wasn’t comfortable with any of it. He said he couldn’t marry a witch, so your mother stopped practicing.”

  “They loved each other,” Alex replied, feeling an ache unfurling in her chest. “Mom would have done anything for him, and he would’ve done anything for her.” But she didn’t like that her father had asked her mother to hide a part of herself. �
�He must have had his reasons for asking her to stop,” she added, quick to defend him.

  Lidia set her warm hand across Alex’s. “Your father was a wonderful man. He was a true gentleman who raised a gorgeous, intelligent daughter.”

  Tears formed in Alex’s eyes. “Thank you, Ciocia.”

  “We were always sad that he stayed away from us after your mother—after the accident,” Lidia continued. “I’d hoped that one day he would change his mind.”

  Alex thought a moment. “But if she was descended from mermaids, how could she have drowned?”

  Lidia grimaced. “I’ve wondered that a million times myself,” she said softly. “Your mother was a strong swimmer who could stay underwater even longer than I ever could. I can’t explain her death, and I struggled with it for ages.”

  She squeezed Alex’s hand. “I’ve waited for so long to tell you the truth, though I would never have chosen to tell you like this, in the context of … this unfortunate event.”

  The murder, Alex thought. She turned her face toward the window and saw some gray clouds gathering. She’d always believed there was something soothing about the rain, and right now she would have welcomed a downpour. Alex brought her attention back to her aunt and cousins. “So Randy Bennett wasn’t being bizarre when he came to Botanika looking for a potion. You infuse your products with magic, don’t you?” No wonder customers saw remarkable results.

  “Some of them, yes.” Lidia nodded. “Of course, herbal remedies work and can be a powerful medicine, but Zofia Sobieski deserves all the credit. She began selling teas and salves many, many years ago. Disguising it as a business helped her avoid the occasional witch hunter who came to Bellamy Bay. Botanika continues that tradition.”

  “Witch hunters,” Alex gasped. “Those are real?”

  “Very real and very scary,” Minka replied ominously.

  “So basically our family is involved in magic laundering,” Lidia continued. “The store is a legitimate front that allows us to practice our healing powers.”

  A stretch of silence covered the women, and Alex had the sense that they were all waiting for her to say something in response to all she’d just learned. But Alex felt disoriented, like her world had just shifted beneath her. Mermaids and witches? If what her family said was true, then everything was different. Magic existed, and she had the ability to practice it. How could that be, when Alex had spent her life believing in facts and evidence?