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"What are we gonna say?" I asked.
Kirby and I stood in the front yard of a white suburban house with brown pillars. The water sprayed out of the sprinkler, creating an arched rainbow that streaked the sky.
"We’ll wing it," Kirby said with a wink. He hurried to ring the doorbell.
A familiar face welcomed us, Zachery Miles, Rose’s husband whom I had seen once in the hospital. "Can I help you?"
"Hello, Mr. Miles," Kirby spoke. "I’m Roy, and this is my wife, Nora. We’re old friends of Rose."
Why the fake names, Kirby!
"You are?" Zachery peered at us. While I was twenty-two, Kirby didn’t look a day over seventeen.
"Yeah, she used to treat our dog before we moved out of town. Now that we’re visiting, we thought we should pass by to say hello."
Where did all that come from? My eyebrows shot up. We only found out what Rose did for a living when we searched for her address online.
"Please, come inside," Zachery said. "I’m sure Rose will be glad to see you."
Stepping into the house, we crossed over a pile of salt at the door sill. Along the entryway, strings of garlic dangled from the ceiling. "I apologize," Zachery said. "My wife has been a little superstitious lately."
"It’s okay." I tittered.
Zachery invited us into a cozy living room with plaid furniture. In vintage cups, he poured us some tea. "You two look like a lovely couple. How long have you been married?"
"April ninth," Kirby cheered. "We’ll celebrate our first anniversary in three days." He grinned and rubbed the nape of his neck.
I wanted to punch him. How dare he use my birthday in his silly story?
We heard the front door open, and a moment later, Rose walked into the room. I tried to hide my face behind the cup, but the hot tea burned my tongue. Bad impulse.
"Honey, look who’s here for you," Zachery said. "It’s your old friends, Roy and Nora."
"My friends?" Rose’s shoulders stiffened when she recognized me.
"Rose, don’t you remember us?" Kirby asked. "You took care of our dog, Oscar, a few years ago."
"Oscar, yes," Rose spoke in a monotone. "I remember."
"Roy and Nora are visiting town, so they came by to say hello," Zachery added. "What great manners they have."
"Yes, they sure have great manners," Rose said, glancing at the tea set on the table. "Honey, why don’t you get some fresh mint for the tea?"
"Where are my manners?" He laughed at his joke.
Once he left, Rose took the seat next to mine and asked, "Why are you here? I haven’t told my husband what happened because I wanted to put this whole thing behind me. So why are you here?"
"I came here to protect you," I said.
"Protect me? Have you seen the psychopath in the cave? You two have nothing on him."
"Yes, we do. Mrs. Miles." I offered an assuring smile. "I’m a witch, and I can cast protection spells around your house to stop that psychopath from coming here again. I know you don’t trust me, but I’m here to help."
Most people would freak out when they hear the words ‘I’m a witch,’ but Rose had seen enough to become a believer. She clenched her jaws and narrowed her eyes, an expression that reminded me of Doyle.
"Salt and garlic can’t protect you," I said. "Magic can... Let me do this, Rose."
"Here you go," Zachery interrupted when he came back with a plate of fresh mint leaves. "Rose has a small garden in the backyard. She plants peppermint, basil, and rosemary. All organic. You’ll love it."
"Sounds wonderful," I said.
Rose and I shared a look.
"Honey. Our guests have traveled a long way. We should invite them to lunch, but we’ll need groceries..."
***
"Hurry up, Nora. He’s back," Rose whispered. She watched from the window as Kirby and I placed protection charms around her bedroom. I never had a chance to give her my real name.
"This is the last one." I hid a sterling silver pendant inside her closet so her husband wouldn’t see it.
"Rose, where are you?" Zachery called from downstairs.
"Upstairs, Honey," Rose called back and hurried to help Kirby make the bed. From the vanity table, I grabbed a perfume bottle and sprayed it around to mask the smell of incense.
Zachery walked in, surprised to see two strangers in his bedroom "What are you all doing here?"
"Rose was giving us a tour," Kirby said, grinning. "You have a lovely home, Mr. Miles."
As I put the perfume away, I glimpsed an old picture of a child in a crib. I recalled what Rose said in the hospital and how Doyle reacted to her. "Oh, you guys have kids?" I asked, trying to sound as casual as possible, but truthfully, I was dying to know. Is Doyle their son? There was no denying the resemblances.
"We did." Rose’s hands almost curled into fists, but she straightened them.
"Pardon my wife. She’s uncomfortable talking about this."
"It’s okay," Rose said before taking a deep breath. Leaning against the wall, she began to tell us their story. She and Zachery had been trying to get pregnant for ten years before they finally conceived a child. The doctors said it was a miracle, and to them, he was. But a few months after birth, the child disappeared from his bed. They did everything they could to find him, but the police found no evidence. "The kidnappers never called, never bargained for ransom."
I could tell that just by telling the story, Rose was reliving it again. I didn’t know how to respond, but there must have been a reason why she opened up to us. Does she believe Doyle is her son? And if she’s right, should I do something to help her?
After sharing a delicious meal together, Zachery and Rose saw us off at the door. "Thank you, Nora," Rose whispered while hugging me goodbye. "You made me feel safe again." I probably should’ve told her my real name then.
"Take care, Rose," I said. "If anything comes up, you have my number."
"Come by whenever you’re in town." Zackery waved us goodbye as we walked to the car.
"Wait." Before we got in, Rose caught up with us. She paused to catch some air. "If something happens and I call you, will it be the two of you coming to help?"
Sensing an edge of nervousness in her voice, I tried to be as gentle as I could. "His name is Doyle."
"Doyle." She smiled. "Will Doyle be coming here anytime soon?"
"I’ll talk to him," I said.
***
"I’m back." Entering my lair, I found Doyle sitting at the table, poring over some papers.
"How was Shady Mews?" he asked with a little bit of curiosity.
"We made sure the house is safe."
"Good." He turned back to his notebook, and I took the chair next to him.
"The Miles are nice people," I said like I was telling a story. "Rose is a vet; Zachery is a teacher. She likes gardening, and he likes reading."
Doyle gave half a laugh. I didn’t want to push any further, so I changed the subject. "What do you have here?"
He showed me a paper on which he had drawn some foreign letters with sharp lines and no curves. I recognized an S and a B but nothing further. "What’s this? Old Hungarian?"
"Runic inscriptions," he said. "This is the spell Zaros wrote on the cloth which later caught fire. I tried to memorize it, but I think I missed a few letters."
"Can you translate it?"
"Vanna and I have been working on it all day. We think Zaros was trying to create a transferal spell."
"Transferal spell? To transfer what exactly?"
"My immunity," he replied. "Zaros wants to become immune to magic to protect himself from Jivar."
"I thought Zaros was Jivar’s right-hand man."
"I guess they want different things," he explained. "Jivar wants to destroy this world. Zaros’s dream is to rule it. If I’m right, Zaros is probably getting ready for a rebellion."
"Huh." I rested back in my seat. "A conflict in the castle is supposed to be good for us, yet this is uncanny."
Fourteen days stood between us and the eclipse. Our enemies were well-prepared with large armies of spirits, soulless people, and whatnot. But what have we done? According to Ebba, the rising ritual had to be performed on the Lone Mountain in Shady Mews, putting the entire town at stake. What are we going to do?
"I’ve thought about them before," Doyle said, interrupting my thoughts. "My...blood relatives."
"Your family?"
He nodded. "I knew as long as I kept them out of my mind, they would stay out of Jivar’s. That is if they are alive."
"They are alive." I burst into tears. "And they love you so much."
Doyle jumped out of his seat. "Wh-why are you crying?"
"It’s been a long day," I said, covering my eyes with my forearm.
***
Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh—the broom slid along the smooth floorboard as I swept. Doyle and Kirby carried the pet food bags into the store. "I don’t get it," I said. "Why do I have to spend Friday night cleaning the store? And why can’t I use magic to do it?"
"We’re doing this for Vanna." Ebba wiped off the counter with a wet cloth. "She said no magic in the store."
"We could’ve been done in a second," I argued.
"What if someone comes by?"
I snorted. "No one will come by at this time to buy pet food."
I must’ve looked really bad when two women walked in less than a minute later. The older lady was around eighty years old and wore a gray jacket. She humped over her cane, taking slow, careful steps towards me. The other one was younger. She wore a black dress and a wide-brimmed hat. Although it was ten in the evening, her sunglasses covered most of her face.
Hurriedly, I helped the older lady to a chair. "Can I get you water or anything, ma’am?"
"Thank you, dear," she said in a graceful British accent.
"The store is closed for maintenance," I said. "But if you need something, I’ll get it for you."
"We’re not interested in the shop." The younger one took off her glasses to show me her face. I recognized her immediately. We had fought in Spiritsvale, and she almost killed me.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"Not happy to see me, Blackwood? Last time, you gave me internal bleeding."
"That’s cute. You gave me one too."
She sneered. "Who do you think—"
"Bailey," the old lady shouted and tapped her cane on the floor. Kirby, Doyle, and Ebba turned to us with concern.
"We’re fine here," I said, waving at them.
"Let us introduce ourselves, Ms. Blackwood," the lady said. "I’m Audrey Harlow, and this is my granddaughter, Bailey. We are members of the Magic Board, and we are here to make an arrangement."
"An arrangement?"
"The Magic Board is willing to release you from your duty. Give us your magic and let us fight Jivar."
Bailey extended her hand with a piece of paper. "This is an empty cheque. Write down the number you want."
I let her hand hang in the air. "You think I need your money?"
She peered down at the broom in my hand.
"I clean when I’m stressed," I cried out. "I don’t need your money. Plus, it’s my destiny to fight Jivar. I’m the chosen witch. There’s a prophecy about it."
"A fake prophecy made up by—" She was about to say something, but her grandmother gestured her to hold her tongue.
"With all due respect, Ms. Blackwood," Audrey said. "Jivar is a thousand-year-old witch with a millennium of experience in witchcraft. You neither have the powers nor the resources to fight him."
"Yet, you’re here, offering to buy my magic." I placed the broom against the wall and crossed my arms.
"Is something wrong, Echo?" Doyle asked as he approached us.
"Everything is fine," I told him, then turned back to the old lady. "Mrs. Harlow, do you have anything else to say? I have to get back to cleaning."
"I think we’ll be meeting again soon, Ms. Blackwood." Audrey came to her feet. She squinted, studying Doyle with her eyes. "Let’s go, Bailey."
"But, Grandmother—"
"I said let’s go."
Once the two left the store, I went crazy. "Can you believe this? The Magic Board wants to buy my powers. They think I’m not adequate to fight Jivar. It’s humiliating." I stomped my foot and threw my arms out in frustration. "We are the Harlows. We are so cool and British, blah blah blah, bloody hell."
"The Harlows have always been full of themselves," Kirby said. "Their family created the Magic Board, so they’re like royalty."
"How do you know about the Harlows?" I asked.
"We’ve had our troubles in the past," he said. "The amulet—they wanted to take it from your mother. They hated to see a Blackwood with any source of power."
"I don’t get it. Why do they hate Blackwoods so much?"
"Lillian asked the same question," he said. "After a lot of research, we discovered you and the Harlows share a great-grandfather: Lú’s husband. He remarried after Lú died, and his new children were jealous of their older sister. One of them even tried to poison her."
"Oh," Ebba uttered, drawing our attention to her unnoticed presence.
Kirby smacked his forehead. "Ebba, I shouldn’t have said that."
"N-o no, it’s o-okay," she said, turning away. I wondered what was on her mind at that moment.
