The next few days were quite possibly the happiest of my life. Henry and I wiled away the hours studying and kissing, then studying and kissing some more. Rather than be outraged by it, the General seemed more than happy with our wanton behavior. If anything, I would have gone so far to say that he openly encouraged it. He smiled indulgently as our hands clasped under the table and didn’t bat an eyelid when we secreted off to some dark corner to be on our own. My own dad would never have allowed it, but then, I wasn’t the General’s daughter, after all. What was the adage? Daughters must be chaste, but sons may sow their oats. Not that oats were being sown anywhere, but the thought went some way to explaining the General’s attitude.
If Eleanor felt any jealousy at the contrast in our circumstances, she didn’t show it. Indeed, she encouraged us at every opportunity, smiling knowingly at her older brother when he squeezed my waist and then again at me when I blushed for it. I felt blessed. I was one of the family. Accepted by all. Or so I thought.
The sun was unseasonably friendly today, and putting my book aside for a moment, I sat back on a bench outside the Abbey and basked in its warmth. I heard footsteps heading toward me, and when I opened my eyes, there was Henry, hovering over me, looking down. He was cupping something small in his hands, and I wondered what it might be.
“There’s someone I would like you to meet,” he said, as he sat down next to me.
Curious, I turned on my seat to see what it was. Henry opened his hands a little, leaving a small hole through which a tiny hamster popped his head out. His nose twitched as he sniffed the fresh air and took in his surroundings.
“This is Eddie Van Halen, my familiar.”
I laughed out loud and then cooed as Henry offered me his tiny friend and lowered him gently onto my outstretched palm.
“He’s very friendly. You won’t scare him,” Henry said.
Indeed, the little fellow just sat there, looking up at me with the quiet confidence of an alpha cat. “Isn’t he small for a familiar?”
“You think so? To be honest, I don’t use him much. He’s more of a companion than anything.”
“I can’t believe you’ve deceived me all this time.”
“What? How?”
“By not telling me about this wittle cutie pie.”
“Oh, right, sorry.” Henry petted the back of Eddie’s head with the tip of his finger. “As you know, all magic has a cost, especially ley line magic. With your earth magic, the cost is born by the plant or the powder, or whatever it is you’re using, but it’s a little different with ley line magic.”
“Yep, prolonged use drains your energy and wears you down.” Henry cocked his head sideways at me. “I’ve been keeping up with my reading.” I added.
“Just so. I’ve seen unshielded witches shrivel down to nothing and turn into little more than warty hags.”
Put that way, ley line magic didn’t sound quite so appealing.
“That’s the point of a familiar,” Henry explained. “Eddie here does a good job at siphoning the excess for me, so neither of us suffer too much. If, like me, you don’t plan on using ley line magic much, you might not even need one, but if you do, you should certainly look into getting a familiar of your own.”
“I see.” Of course I wasn’t completely ignorant on the purpose of a familiar, but I hadn’t seriously considered one before now. “What do you think I should get?”
Ever so carefully, Henry lifted Eddie from my hands and slipped his friend into the safety of his shirt pocket. How many times had it been secreted in there without my knowledge? The thought made me smile.
“That’s up to you, of course, but I wondered if I might introduce you to another little friend of mine.”
Henry shifted sideways, and this time he put his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out another small and fluffy bundle, all curled up and snoozing. At first, I thought he’d brought me a strange-colored kitten, because its coat was a mix of black and fire red, but when it lifted its sleepy head, I saw it was a baby fox.
“Oh my Gaia, give that to me!” I gasped, raising my hands eagerly to receive it. “He’s so precious. What’s his name?”
“She is Scarlet, though I just call her Scar,” he said, depositing the adorable critter into my hands. “She’s an orphan, and I just finished weaning her.”
“Oh my, you’re quite the Dr. Doolittle.” I laughed. Scarlet was the most beautiful thing, though she smelled a little musky. “Is she house-trained?”
Henry smirked. “Getting there. What do you think? Do you want her?”
“Where on earth did you get her from?” I asked.
“Her mother lived in the cemetery for years. She passed after giving birth to this wee one. It was touch and go for a while, but I managed to save her.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. Scar looked up at me with a pair of sleepy brown yet intelligent eyes. Did I think I could click with her? Maybe. And it was the closest thing to a gift Henry had ever offered me. “What about Sylvia? She might not like me bringing an animal into the apartment.”
“Already taken care of. She said she wouldn’t mind at all. Oh, and I already put in the paper work for a familiar license, so you don’t have to worry about that either.”
That was presumptuous, I thought. Henry must have guessed what I was thinking because he added, “I thought Eleanor might want her, but she said no. Scar’s such a darling and too rare to be ignored. If you don’t want her, someone will snap her up quick enough.”
I relaxed a little. “Ah. Can I think about it?”
Henry’s eyes softened. “Of course. Choosing a familiar is a big thing. You’ll want to be sure about each other.”
“Thanks.” I raised her up to give her back to him, but Henry shook his hand. “How about you two spend some time together? See how you get on. You’ll know quickly if you bond. And as soon as you do, she’ll start storing some of that magic you’re spindling.”
“Okay.”
I set Scar down on my lap, where she immediately curled up into a tired little ball and fell asleep. Henry inched closer to me on the bench and idly played with my hair. He lowered his head to my neck, and I had just braced myself for a kiss when all Hades broke loose behind us.
“I told you, I don’t want you bringing that filth in my home.” Something had riled the General and riled him good. I glanced anxiously at Henry, who was sitting stiffly beside me, straining to hear what would come next.
“Don’t call him that, Pop. It’s offensive. His name is Victor.” Eleanor said.
“I don’t care what his name is. I will not have a werewolf in my house, and that’s final. I forbid you to see him again.”
“You can’t forbid me. I’m old enough to see whoever I want.”
“Yes, you are. But I don’t have to support you if you don’t listen to me. You’ll be out on your ear, quick as a flash.”
“Fine. Then I’m leaving.”
We heard scraping chairs and a door slam, and a moment later, Eleanor ran from the Abbey, her eyes full of the tears she would soon shed. Henry jumped up and moved to comfort her, but she shooed him away. With a wave of her hand, a purple stream of magic circled the willow, which opened to receive her, and then she was gone. Henry turned back to me, and after securing Scar in my arms, I stood up, but he shook his head.
“You should probably wait here. Let me go inside and see what I can do.”
I had no desire to confront the General, not in his current frame of mind, so I did as Henry asked and sat down. Scar slipped through my hands and stood to attention on the bench, her body alert as she looked back to the Abbey. She then fixed her gaze on me, as if trying to read my mind, communicate, or something. I shook my head. “Sorry, Scar, I don’t know what to tell you. This one’s out of my control.”
I picked up my book and held it tight on my lap, as much for something to do as anything else. Shifting around in my seat, I stared at the ground—after all, I was only a guest here and didn’t know quite how to behave in the midst of all this family drama. So I sat there, feeling like a complete lemon, not sure whether I should go inside, wait to be fetched, or what. I was thankful at least that it wasn’t raining.
A few minutes passed, and though all was quiet inside the Abbey, I had a hunch it wasn’t a good time to go in there. But I couldn’t sit here all day. I needed to stretch my legs and get moving. Scar seemed to be having the same thought, for she jumped down off the bench and scampered over to the willow.
“Come back,” I cried, trying to keep my voice down, not wanting to draw attention to either of us.
As I approached, Scar kept looking back, but as soon as I got close, she would run a little farther on, until at last, she disappeared under the hanging branches of the tree.
I had nothing better to do, so I followed behind her. There was no sign of Eleanor on the other side. I could only imagine she had gone to find comfort in the arms of Victor, as I would have done had I been in her place. The familiar outline of the New York skyscrapers loomed mysteriously before me, reminding me that we were literally feet from the bustle of the metropolis, but in all other regards, we might as well have been a million miles away. Perhaps I should have asked where Victor lived, and now regretted that I hadn’t, since Eleanor could easily be anywhere in a city such as this. If she didn’t want us to find her, we never would.
“Come on, Scar. Where are you?” I called. I’d have thought with her distinctive black-and-red markings, the little fox cub would be easy to spot, but since bounding through the willow, she’d completely disappeared. “Scar! Come on now, honey.” My pace quickened as I grew more anxious. How would I explain losing her to Henry? Like he didn’t have enough on his plate as it was. “Come on now, Scar. Don’t make me spell you!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of something red over by a broken headstone. Relieved, I made for it, but there was no sign of Scar when I got there. I was about to give up when I saw the tip of a small but bushy tail disappear behind another stone.
“You little rascal.”
I followed again. I found Scar at last, curled up in a ball on the grave of Eleanor Tilney. The naughty little tyke appeared perfectly content with herself, looking up at me as if to say, what took you so long?”
I shook my head and was about to pick her up when a familiar chill came over me. Transfixed, I instinctively reached for my ring, touching the inset stone and holding my breath as I tried to channel my sensations through it.
The usual thrill of the connection was there, but for the first time, I felt no fear. Whether this was foolish or not, I couldn’t say, but I tried to relax as I waited for the spirit to rise from the dead and say what she had to say.
Gently, the sod over the grave seemed to pulse, and then an ethereal specter rose from it and hovered just inches from where I stood. I recognized her at once. Eleanor Tilney—the deceased mother, not the distraught daughter—looked just as I remembered her from her pictures. She appeared very young, much younger than she would’ve been when she died, and I wondered if spirits had the power to determine the image they presented to the physical world.
For a moment, Eleanor floated silently in the air, a little bewildered as she took in her surroundings. I could feel what she felt and sensed what she thought as her mind adjusted, and she began to focus on where she was. It was amazing, scary, and strangely fantastic.
“You must bring her back,” Eleanor said. She spoke slowly and purposefully, but otherwise her voice was so like her daughter’s, it took me by surprise.
“I would if I knew where she was,” I responded.
“You must find her and bring her back. Otherwise she’ll be lost to us forever.”
There was no melodrama in her words, just a pining sadness, a mother fearing for her child. My heart ached, and I found myself ready to promise her anything.
“I’ll do what I can,” I said. “I promise.”
“Bring her back. Bring her ba—”
Eleanor’s voice trailed away, and her image began to fade along with it.
“What on earth are you doing?”
Startled, I jumped and saw the General standing directly behind me. His hands were set on his hips, and his face was red with fury. Stunned, I was at a total loss for words.
“I—I—”
“How dare you summon my wife? This is how you repay me, after I’ve shown you the hospitality of my home? How dare you!”
“I didn’t summon…”
But the General’s blood was up, and he cut me off. “Leave. I want you to leave at once. Go on! Get out now.” He rudely pointed over to the gates. “Take your wicked practices and get out of my sight. I never want to see you here again.”
I looked around him to the willow, knowing Henry was still in the Abbey and wishing he would come to me now.
“But my things,” I argued. “I need my things.”
“Never mind those.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and flung it at me. It landed inches from where Scar still sat, and the poor thing scampered quickly away, seeking the safety of the willow. “There. Take a Magic Cab and go. I’ll have your things sent on. Just leave now.”
The General stood firm, barring my way between me and the willow tree. I knew he was still reeling from his fallout with Eleanor, but I didn’t know what to do. Completely lost for words, I shook my head, and leaving the money on the ground where he’d tossed it, I walked to the cemetery gates. As I approached them, the locked gates swung silently open, and I could clearly see the bustle of the Magic Apple on the other side.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted Henry by my side. But I did none of these things, and Henry didn’t come to find me.
In my confused state, leaving seemed the only thing to do.
And so, I left.