episode 28: That Could Take Months!

-David-

I’m at the crossroads again. Takara emerges from the mist, looking behind her, her steps staccato and frantic, as though chased, but unsure as from where. Her form changes. A fox twines about my ankles, limping, almost tripping me, trying to hide there. "Takara, darling, what’s wrong?"

"He’s here," and then she is standing beside me walking backwards, blood sluggishly trickling from a wound in her side. "Why didn’t you stop him?" The mist swallows her. I’m about to chase after when I hear a voice behind me, "Where is she?" It’s Babe. He’s frantic, his head swiveling behind him, his hoofs kicking out as though to dislodge something there. "Why is she attacking me? Why didn’t you stop her?"

                                                                                          *

A week has passed to find me struggling to wake from yet another sweat drenched dream wracked with guilt. Not knowing what else to do, I called Louise again.

"I’ve had another dream."

"I think that’s good," said Louise.

"It doesn’t feel good," I said. "It feels like shit — they always wonder why I pit them against each other." I buried my face in my hands, feeling the guilt bubble up from my gut. "I was trying to save them."

"I know, David, but, like ghosts, it seems they are trapped in some sort of limbo, reliving the moments of their fight - they only remember the emotional confusion of that moment."

"Like ghosts," I said, my voice flat.

"Like ghosts – it’s an analogy, David, you’re a writer, maybe you’ve some familiarity with the concept?"

"Jesus, Louise."

There was a sigh on the other end. "Okay, I’m cranky. Your article on the store was amazing, but there’s been a picket line for the last three days. Very few people are willing to come in."

"Oh shit, Louise."

"Meh, it’s more of an annoyance, actually. Business is fairly brisk. It’s like the people out front have never heard of the internet before."

"Perhaps they think witches send everything by owl?"

She laughed, "Perhaps. But I still miss running the shop, like, well, a shop."

"I get that. I can always start interviewing them. God knows, I need a new story angle."

"I’d rather they assume that the media fury is going to die out soon, if you don’t mind. And I don’t think that you want those people to be paying close attention to your life and your situation."

"No, emphatically not. Has the Inquisitor’s office visited you?"

"No, I’ve received a phone call, but that’s it. It was a voicemail to ‘remind me’ that actively promoting acts of witchcraft is against the law. But they called after hours because they don’t want a real confrontation. If they press charges, they know I’ll go to court. Most other media coverage is painting the picketers as fundamentalists. They aren’t even mentioning the Bureau. There was one small editorial in the Sun, but I saw little in the way of comments. No one’s going to take this on in a big way. Too messy."

"You sound disappointed."

"Just a little. I have a customer who’d like to practice openly, and she’s a dab hand at these kinds of cases. Has handled several indigenous and religious freedoms cases, and will work pro bono."

"Too bad Ellen isn’t speaking to me. She used to be a big shot lawyer. Could have used her help."

"While that’s an interesting idea, David, but dropping your name to introduce myself strikes me as a terrible idea. I’d rather not be cursed by a woman with that kind of power. We’ve seen what she can do. It still astounds me — the precision of her control, its specificity." There was a tone of undisguised admiration in her voice.

She was referring to my one attempt to contact Ellen the day after I’d gotten back to tell her about my dreams and about Takara’s grandmother. But the only response had been an email saying, "I can do worse."

Anxiety filled the rest of my day. Any skepticism about magic and its power had been burnt out of me that night on the farm. It wasn’t until I’d gone to make dinner that I’d understood. Everything in my fridge was rotten, black and oozing. When I opened the fridge door, I’d actually started choking on the mould spores that swirled out of the compost heap that had been my groceries. The only upside was that the stench destroyed my appetite because I missed dinner. It had taken me the bulk of the night to clean up the mess, and the black liquid that had dripped out of my fridge onto the kitchen floor. And the following week took multiple applications of javex to get rid of the smell of rot.

Luckily, I didn’t have to buy a new fridge. I put a single container of milk into it the next day to make sure that the appliance hadn’t been cursed, or if it had been a one-off spell.

I didn’t contact her again.

Louise, of course, had been fascinated, admiring even, but it made her wary. She’d never seen that kind of power — not over that distance, without something very specific to anchor the spell.

"I’m so pleased that you find my having a compost heap inside my kitchen is an exciting example of spell work," my tone sharper than I’d intended.

Louise muttered something under her breath, then spoke more clearly. "Look, David, in these kinds of situations, you have two choices. You can complain about the problem or you can work on the problem. Magic is like most things that have power, it’s complicated but at its heart it’s driven by our own primal impulses, so you have to learn how to channel these, as, unfortunately for you at the moment, Ellen has a singular ability to do just that."

"It’s her primal instincts that got us into this situation," I said. Even I could hear the anger and frustration in my voice.

"She felt a mother’s instinct to protect Babe. The magic has amplified this instinct. But you know, I think there’s something else at play - something connected to your gate. However strong she’s become through her link to Napier farm, she should never have been able to create a sentient creature. Such a spell should be well outside of her abilities."

"So, what allowed her to do it?"

"That is a key question, and I don’t think she’s truly free of the influence of whatever’s at play. She’s not fully rational, and she’s more powerful, still, than she should be - I think she’s a conduit for something else. It’s part of the reason I think she cannot listen to the possibility that Babe is alive. It’s simply not time yet."

“Not time? Are you fucking serious?”

It was Louise’s turn to be irritated. "Is magic real, David?" Her tone demanded an answer.

I stared at my phone, opened my mouth. Closed it, even after everything. It was still difficult for me to say it aloud, even if I accepted it intellectually. I sighed, "Yes."

"Really, what’s with the big sigh, then? I ask again, is it real?"

I thought of Takara, "Yes, magic is real"

"Then you’d better think about it that way. Like it’s real, like it follows its own rules. Start thinking about how it really works. About the symbology and power of it all. So, when I say it may not be time, that fate may be at play, you’d damn well better take that idea seriously."

"Yes, Louise."

She nodded, "Okay, then."

"So, what, then? We just wait?"

“Of course not. Like anything else, we work the problem. And I think the best solution right now is to get information to act on, should it become time. You need to learn to take control of your dreams.”

"Lucid dreaming. I thought that was something that only Shamans and the like could do."

"One becomes a shaman through training, not through some simple touch of the divine. Oh, sure, that might be involved, but a key aspect of most of the magical arts is training, dedication and not least, devotion and belief."

"Those last two are not my strengths."

"I think you undersell yourself, David. Maybe not to any conventional deity, given what you tell me and from what I see in your eyes when you speak of them, there are two supernatural beings that you’ve very devoted to."

"Well. Shit."

"Exactly. And it’s not like you’ll be the first to walk down this path. Dream-walking has been something that people have been doing for generations, as you well know. C’mon down to the shop, and we’ll get you a book with some basics."

"Jeez, Louise. That could take months!"

"All the better to start now. Real magic isn’t Harry Potter waving a wand around. It takes work. Ellen can only do what she did because she’s spent years building power and knowledge. It’s time you started doing the same. Or you can leave Babe and Takara to their fate."

"There has to be a faster way," I said, frustrated.

"Well, if you think of anything, let me know. Until then, it’s best if you take the path in front of you. See you soon."

I got back home rather late with my required reading. I had dropped by Grandmother’s shop, hoping I could find her. To ask her for another way, a faster way. But the shop was closed, and looked long abandoned. Suspicion flared in me and I looked at it through the loop of my altered finger and thumb and saw through the glamour. But any hope that she might be simply hiding out was dashed. The shop was locked up, and there was new signage. I couldn’t read the script, but the warning that was behind those Chinese characters still rang in my mind. Dejected, I turned away and went home.

Image by aivars vilks at unsplash