DARJA
“Well that’s…inconvenient,” Aggie said. I could barely see her silhouette in the darkness, an eerie sort of glow at her edges, the same color as a rainy spring dawn.
“And interesting,” I said, wondering what the hell had actually just happened. I could feel an energy thrumming inside me, tingling through my fingers. Was that what magic felt like?
“That, too.”
“So,” I said, leaning over Sofi and Mirtel to squint at the shadowed pages, trying to swallow down the wild sort of excitement that had begun to well up inside me, “is there, like, an off switch?”
Aggie shrugged. “Mirtel?” she said, but the older woman was already pushing herself to her feet and moving to the small window above the kitchen sink. It was covered in a patchwork curtain peppered with roses and lilacs softly illuminated against the sunshine outside. She pulled it open and the wagon lit up with warm dappled light. When she turned back to us, there was a wide smile on her face.
Sofi was running her fingers down the page, touching the book almost reverently, her eyes filled with wonder. No one else said anything, but I could feel the thrill in the air around us. We had done it. We had done magic.
I’d forgotten that I’d been furious with Aggie on the way over here, completely at my wit’s end with her mysterious misdirection and perpetual avoidance of any actual truths. I nodded at the page they’d been reading from, then looked back at her. “Can you understand any of it?”
“Here,” she said, lowering her hand next to Mirtel’s and pointing at a word on the page. At the same moment, Sofi ran her finger down the length of the spell, right through Aggie’s delicate, bird-like wrist. Aggie flinched away, and I gave Sofi a look, nodding infinitesimally toward her hand and then away. She seemed to get the hint, pulling her hand against her chest and looking mildly embarrassed.
“Do you know the word?” Mirtel asked, and Aggie nodded.
“I remember it from one of our prayers. We used to say it at the end, when we took a piece from the loaf of bread we all ate from. ‘It is done,’” she said.
I pointed to the word and repeated the translation for Sofi.
Mirtel gave her a nod, and she seemed to steel her shoulders before saying firmly, “Valmis.”
Nothing happened.
“Oo-kay,” I said. “Good try. But if that ends the spell, why are the lights still out?”
No one said anything for a long moment, then Sofi looked up at me, her eyes gleaming with an idea.
“The lights only went out when Mirtel and Aggie both spoke the words together.”
Mirtel began to smile. “Of course. The bond must be what makes it work. Why don’t you two try it.” She gave Sofi an encouraging smile.
With a deep breath, Sofi glanced over to me again, nervous and uncertain. I wasn’t quite as supportive as Mirtel; I shrugged, not really believing any of this was actually going to work. But I still muttered, "valmis" in her direction, so she'd know how Aggie had pronounced it.
She nodded and gave me a thankful smile, then repeated the word in a whisper-thin voice, "Valmis."
Immediately, the lights in the wagon flared, blazing brightly before settling to their usual soft glow.
“Holy shit,” I said quietly. Sofi was gaping at the book, leaning away from it as if it might bite her. Mirtel’s face was stoic, but there was a triumphant gleam in her eyes. Aggie watched us all with her usual skeptical glare.
“Did we…” Sofi began, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Did we just… cast a spell?"
Mirtel was grinning widely, looking decades younger. There was something wild in her eyes, and I could see why everyone in town had thought her crazy.
"That," she said, touching the pages in front of her almost reverently, "was most certainly something magic."
The two of them laughed softly, not seeming to know how to process this. I exchanged an unsettled glance with Aggie, who seemed as troubled as I suddenly felt. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something didn't sit right with me. Maybe it was because the only reason the magic seemed to work was because half of us were dead.
Still, it made sense. The whole purpose of the bonding was to tap into some sort of power source that neither living nor dead could access on their own. It was strange, but as unsettled as I felt, I also felt as if something—something maybe I was meant for—had been fulfilled.
“Darja?” Sofi asked suddenly, her smile fading. “Are you okay?”
“Sure,” I said, but I wasn’t sure I meant it. This felt…big. And I didn’t really know if we should celebrate just yet. But Sofi was looking like a kid who’d just discovered a pile of presents under the Christmas tree, and I couldn’t take that away from her. Not yet.
“I mean, hey,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant, “I’m a ghost and a witch. I’m like a whole horror movie, all in one.”
Sofi laughed, but Aggie harrumphed. “I don’t like this,” she said, and neither did I, but we had the book, and we could sound out some of the words, so…what could it hurt?
Feeling reckless, I plopped myself down next to Sofi and leaned over the pages. “So, what else have you got?”
Sofi’s eyes lit up. She looked over at Mirtel and gestured toward the book. “Should we…?”
Mirtel seemed enchanted by the whole thing. “Well, I’m not sure how much we can accomplish, and of course, we must be cautious…but yes. Why not?”
“Why not?” Aggie hissed. “Mirtel, what are you thinking? We don’t understand this magic. It could be dangerous.”
“Turning the lights on and off is far from dangerous, Aggie. We might just…test this out. After fifty years, I’d like to think something good might come of this.”
Aggie clenched her jaw. Mirtel didn’t seem to notice, but I could feel a crackle of angry energy pierce the air.
“You think this is nothing more than parlor tricks?” she said. “You think this is what I died for? What Darja died for? All those other girls? Is that what we are? Nothing more than magicians’ assistants?”
“Aggie, please,” Mirtel said. Sofi was looking back and forth between Mirtel and the empty space next to her. I was sure even though she couldn’t see Aggie, she could sense the electric hum that was growing more and more resonant. “There’s no reason to be upset,” Mirtel continued. “If we could all just remain calm—”
“CALM?” Aggie screeched. The gray aura around her suddenly flared brilliantly, blindingly white, and a sound like a sonic boom shook the wagon. There was a flash and everything around us trembled like an aftershock. When it stopped, Aggie was gone.
“Oh, dear,” Mirtel muttered. Sofi’s mouth was open and her eyes darted around the wagon.
“Could you see that?” I asked.
“I felt it,” she said. “What happened?”
“She’s pissed,” I said.
At the same time, Mirtel said, “I’ve upset her. It isn’t the first time, and I doubt it will be the last. She’ll come around though. She always does.”
“Should we leave?” Sofi asked.
“No, dear. Let’s give her some time to cool off. In the meantime,” Mirtel leaned over to retrieve the book, which had fallen from their laps during Aggie’s explosion, “let’s see what else is in here.”
Twenty minutes later, we had tried two more spells, with zero success. The problem was clearly on my end. I didn’t know any of the words, and couldn’t even hope to sound them out. I was beginning to get weary and frustrated, but both Mirtel and Sofi seemed somehow energized.
Sofi flipped a page and pointed. “What about this?” It was a brief spell—just two short paragraphs spread across two pages. Beneath the words there was an illustration of a woman. Her eyes were closed, but in the center of her forehead there was a third eye, wide open.
“There,” Mirtel said, pointing to a word at the top of the page. “That means ‘two,’ I think. Or ‘twice.’ And this here, it’s something to do with seeing. ‘Vision,’ maybe?”
Sofi looked lost in thought. “Twice,” she said softly, running a fingertip over the drawing of the three-eyed woman. “Twice seeing? Two visions?”
“Second sight,” Mirtel exclaimed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized it sooner. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? With the illustration?”
The look Sofi shot me over Mirtel’s shoulder told me it didn’t make any more sense to her than it did to me.
“The second sight,” Mirtel said again, as if we were missing something obvious. “Clairvoyance. The ability to see the dead.”
“Well, you two already checked that off the bucket list,” I said, but Sofi leaned forward and studied the page, clearly intrigued.
“Do you think that means…could we see each other’s bonded? Or other…dead people?”
Mirtel shook her head. “I’m not sure. But the spell seems simple enough.”
“Speak for yourself,” I snapped, even though of course she couldn’t hear me. The paragraph on my side of the book appeared to be complete and total gibberish. Short, yes, but I was sure I couldn’t begin to pronounce half the words.
“Let’s try,” Sofi said, shooting me an appealing look. “What have we got to lose?”
I was irritated, but I knew the two of them weren’t likely to let my protests stop them, so I waved her on.
“Go ahead,” she said to Mirtel. “Let’s see what happens.”
Mirtel sounded out the words on her page in a jerky, staccato sort of rhythm that sounded unlike any actual language I’d ever heard before. When she reached the end, she turned her eyes expectantly in my general direction.
I gritted my teeth, not wanting to continue, but Sofi was watching me intently, and so I began sounding out the words, certain I was butchering them. I got to the last line, stumbled over the final phrase and halted, feeling stupid for even attempting it.
It took a moment for me to notice that Mirtel was staring. Not in my vicinity, but at me. And Sofi was staring at her.
“Dear God,” Mirtel said breathlessly. I met her eyes, a thrill of excitement tinged with terror blazing through me. It all felt suddenly very real, and though I knew we had done magic, I wasn’t certain what the implications of that would be—what it would mean if the living could see the dead. “Oh, my dear,” Mirtel continued, her eyes going soft and a little wet at the corners. “Aren’t you lovely?”
“Was lovely,” I corrected, but there was no sting in my voice.
Mirtel nodded. “Yes, of course. You were. I’m so very sorry.”
My shoulders slumped and I felt some of the tension seep out of me. “Thank you,” I said quietly, and I meant it.
“Well then,” she said briskly, picking up the book and closing it firmly. “That will certainly make conversing a bit easier. But I think that’s quite enough magic for one day.”
“Do you think…” Sofi said softly, looking both afraid and intrigued. “Will I be able to see Aggie?”
“Well,” said a voice from the back of the wagon, “can you?”
We all turned to see Aggie walking toward us and I heard Sofi gasp.
“I suppose that’s a yes,” Aggie said tightly, but she nodded at Sofi, a sort of half-smile flitting across her lips. “Hi,” she said quietly, and Sofi beamed back at her.
“Aggie,” Mirtel said, relief evident in her voice. “I’m glad you’ve come back. Oh, isn’t it thrilling?”
“Is it?” Aggie said, but there was no more fight in her voice. She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“As much as any of us do, dear,” Mirtel said.
The four of us looked at each other for a long, silent moment, the unspoken, Now what? hanging in the air between us.
“I think we need to find Stephen,” I finally blurted out.
Sofi glanced up sharply. “What? Why?”
“Why? So he can tell us what the spells are before we go setting a forest fire or blowing up town hall. We can’t mess around with this, Sofi. We don’t understand this magic, and we don’t know where it comes from. He’s the only one who knows the magic, but isn’t Vaikesti.”
“Darja, this is ridiculous—”
“He’s the only one who can help us,” I said with finality. Sofi frowned, but she didn’t protest again.
I just hoped I was right.