Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
T he stairs materialized as we descended from the attic, our clothes still damp from our otherworldly encounter. I had a fleeting moment of optimism as we reached the second floor. Maybe, just maybe, we were finally getting ahead of this apocalyptic mess. I should have known better by now. Optimism in our line of work was about as useful as a chocolate teapot in a volcano.
The moment we stepped into the living room, Stella's eyes lit up with an almost manic glee. "Ooh, shiny!" she exclaimed as she reached for the locket in Nana's hand with all the restraint of a kid in a candy store.
In my defense, I did try to stop her. But have you ever tried to come between a witch and a sparkly magical object? It's about as effective as trying to stop a tidal wave with a paper umbrella. "Stella, wait-" I shouted, but it was too late.
The second her fingers touched the locket, a light flashed so bright it made the sun look like a particularly underwhelming firefly. When my vision finally cleared, Stella was frozen in place. Her hand was still outstretched, and her face locked in an expression of gleeful curiosity that was becoming more unsettling by the second.
"Uh, guys?" I said, waving a hand in front of Stella's unblinking eyes. "I think we might have a problem. How did this happen? The necklace didn't hurt Nana."
“It's a temporal distortion,” Tarja's voice echoed in our minds, making us collectively flinch. Despite having her speak to me like that consistently for the past year, it was always a surprise when you weren’t expecting it. “ The locket has trapped Stella in a time loop. This isn't your run-of-the-mill curse we're dealing with.”
I watched in horrified fascination as Stella continued to repeat the same five-second sequence over and over. "How long do you think this will last?" I asked as a note of panic crept into my voice.
“Without knowing the exact nature of the curse on the locket,” Tarja mused, her mental voice tinged with concern, “ it's hard to say. It could be minutes, hours... or potentially indefinite. Time magic is notoriously unstable and unpredictable.”
"Indefinitely?" I squeaked. "We can't leave Stella like this! Her family is going to miss her at some point. She wants to be there when Nina gets ready for prom. She'll miss the birth of the triplets. Hell, at this rate, she'll miss their college graduation!"
"Calm down, Phoebe," Mom said, placing a hand on my shoulder. Her familiar Binx was pressed against her legs. His blue eyes darted between us all. "We'll figure this out. We always do."
I shrugged off her hand, suddenly irritated. "Calm down? Mom, in case you haven't noticed, we're neck-deep in curses, Dark magic, and now time loops. Our friend is stuck reliving the same five seconds over and over. Oh, and let's not forget, I'm still pregnant with magical triplets who seem to think my uterus is a bouncy castle. So, excuse me if I'm not exactly the picture of calm right now!"
“As understandable as your frustration is,” Tarja interjected in a mental voice that was soothing despite the gravity of the situation, “ we need to approach this logically. Panicking won't help Stella or solve our problem.”
I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. "You're right. Sorry, everyone. My hormones are all over the place on top of everything else. What do you suggest, Tarja?"
“Well, first things first,” Tarja responded, “ we need more information about this locket and any other cursed objects it might be connected to. Curses this powerful rarely exist in isolation. I believe I know someone who might be able to help us understand what we're dealing with.”
And that's how we found ourselves standing outside the most stereotypical haunted house I've ever seen thirty minutes later. It was the kind of place that would make the Addams Family say, ‘Nah, too creepy.’
"Are you sure about this, Tarja?" I asked, eyeing the cobweb-covered porch warily.
“As sure as I can be,” she replied. “ Marlowe might be difficult to deal with, but he knows more about cursed objects than anyone alive. Or dead, for that matter.”
Before I could ask what she meant by that last part, Nana was already pounding on the door with enough force to wake the dead. Which, given the nature of our lives lately, was a very real possibility. The door creaked open and revealed a man who looked like he'd been around since the dawn of time and wasn't too happy about it. His eyes were magnified by thick glasses. They narrowed as they landed on us. His gaze paused on Layla, and a flicker of recognition crossed his features.
"Hattie's wolf," he grunted as his eyes darted around, searching for something else. "I assume that infernal cat of hers is lurking about as well."
“Charming as ever, Marlowe,” Tarja's voice echoed in our heads, causing Marlowe to twitch slightly.
"Ah, there you are," he muttered. "And who are these other miscreants you've dragged into whatever mess you've concocted this time?"
Nana stepped forward, raising her chin defiantly. "Friends of Hattie. We've got bigger fish to fry than introductions, Marlowe. Can we come in? Or would you prefer we discuss matters of world-ending importance out here where any passing demon could eavesdrop?"
Marlowe's eyes narrowed further, clearly unhappy about the prospect of letting strangers into his domain. He grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "I'd prefer the demons," but stepped aside to let us in. He eyed each of us warily as we filed past him. "Don't touch anything," he barked. "Some of these artifacts are older than your entire bloodline and twice as temperamental."
Layla rolled her eyes as she passed him. "Your hospitality is as warm as ever, Marlowe."
"Hospitality is for guests," he retorted. "You lot are more like a plague of locusts descending on my peaceful existence."
Despite his gruff demeanor, I noticed how his eyes kept darting to Layla and Tarja. Whatever history they shared with Hattie, it was clear that Marlowe held a grudging respect for them. Even if he'd rather eat his glasses than admit it. The inside of the house was... well, imagine if a library had a torrid love affair with an antique shop, and their child rebelled by becoming a hoarder. Books were stacked everywhere, interspersed with artifacts that looked older than civilization itself.
Binx prowled around the edges of the room with his tail twitching nervously while we settled in. After completing a circuit, he finally settled next to Mom. However, his eyes never left Marlowe.
"So," Marlowe said, settling into a chair that had seen better days a century ago, "what mess have you gotten yourself into this time?"
As Tarja and Layla filled Marlowe in on our situation, I found my eyes drawn to a particularly dusty tome on a nearby shelf. The title was barely visible under years of grime. "Cursed Objects and Where to Shove Them: A Comprehensive Guide."
"Ah," Marlowe's voice snapped me back to attention. "The Locket of Lyra. Haven't heard of that infernal thing in a dog's age." Interesting nickname for the charm.
"You know about it?" I asked, hope rising in my chest.
Marlowe fixed me with a look that could have curdled milk. "Know about it? Girl, I wrote the book on it. Literally." He gestured to the very tome I'd been eyeing earlier.
“This is why I suggested we come here,” Tarja said. “ Perhaps we can get some concrete information about what we're dealing with.”
"Then you can help us?" I pressed, feeling a glimmer of hope.
Marlowe sighed, making a noise that sounded like old parchment crumbling. "It's not that simple. The locket isn't just any cursed object. It's one of seven. Each one is linked to a different aspect of Lyra's power. Together, they form a set more dangerous than anything you can imagine."
"Holy shit," I muttered. "One cursed object wasn't enough of a headache. Lyra just had to make a whole matching set."
“This complicates things,” Tarja mused. “ If the locket is part of a set, breaking its curse could have far-reaching consequences we can't predict.”
"Do you guys know anything?" Marlowe snapped. "These aren't some trinkets you can toss in a magic circle and be done with. Each object is layered with curses and protections. Trying to neutralize one without understanding its connection to the others is like trying to defuse a bomb by snipping random wires."
"Fair enough. What do we do?" I asked, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "We can't leave Stella stuck in that time loop forever."
Marlowe's eyes softened slightly, a hint of begrudging concern seeping into his gruff demeanor. "No, you can't leave your friend trapped like that. But rushing in blind will only make things worse. You need to perform a magical diagnosis on the locket. It is imperative that you uncover its layers and understand its connections. Only then can you safely attempt to break the curse or curses. You will also discover if you need the others to cut the connection."
I nodded, feeling a mix of relief and trepidation. We had a plan. Sort of. It sounded about as simple as performing brain surgery while riding a unicycle. "Thank you, Marlowe," Layla murmured. "We appreciate your help."
Marlowe harrumphed, already turning back to his cluttered desk. "Just don't make me regret it. And for the love of all that's arcane, be careful. That locket is more dangerous than you know."
As we left Marlowe's house of horrors--I mean, seriously, would it kill the man to dust once a century?-- my mind was racing. A magical diagnosis sounded straightforward enough. However, I had a feeling it was going to be about as simple as untangling a ball of yarn that a family of porcupines had made their home in.
"So," I said as we piled into the car, "anyone know where we can get a magical MRI machine? Or do we cast a circle around it and hope for the best?" Intent was key in magic, so it wasn’t an entirely ridiculous suggestion.
Nana chuckled from the driver's seat. "Oh, honey. We're going to need a lot more than a circle. I hope you didn't have any plans for the rest of the day. Or week."
And that was how we found ourselves back home, setting up for what had to be the most complicated magical procedure I'd ever been part of. And considering I once had to deal with an enchanted sewing machine, that's saying something. Our living room had been transformed into something that looked like a cross between a mad scientist's lab and a new age crystal shop.
Candles flickered at strategic points. Their flames cast dancing shadows on walls now covered in hastily scrawled magical formulas. The air was thick with the smell of incense, and something that I hoped was just really pungent herbs. Not, you know, eye of newt or toe of frog. In the center of it all sat the locket.
It was innocent-looking and decidedly un-locket-like in its world-ending potential. As I stared at it, I couldn't help but wonder what we were really getting ourselves into. One glance at Stella, still frozen in her time loop, was all I needed to steel my resolve.
I clapped my hands together. "Time to play magical doctor and hope we don't accidentally turn ourselves inside out in the process."
As we worked, Binx weaved between our legs, occasionally pausing to bat at a stray piece of magical chalk or sniff at the ingredients for Mom's concoction. His presence, while not exactly helpful, was oddly comforting.
“You should know,” Tarja's voice intruded, surprising us all in the silence, “ that this diagnostic spell isn't without risks. Each layer of the curse we uncover could potentially trigger unforeseen magical reactions. We need to proceed with extreme caution.”
“I gathered as much from Marlowe’s warning. We can’t back out and leave Stella like this.” I gestured to my best friend and then caught Mom's eye.
She gave me a reassuring smile while one of her hands absently stroked Binx's fur. In that moment, I was grateful for our strange, magical, dysfunctional family. We began the ritual with Tarja guiding us step by step through the process. The air around the locket began to shimmer and distort as we began to chant in a language that made my ears hurt. It was like looking through a heat haze made of pure magical energy and bad intentions.
Keeping my worry about whether we were going to be capable of getting past the evil energy out of my mind wasn’t easy. A few seconds later, I was certain I’d failed when suddenly, an image appeared above the locket. It looked like a tangle of multicolored threads. Each one pulsed with a unique rhythm.
"The curses," Aidon breathed with wide eyes. "Each thread represents a different layer of magic."
" Correct ," Tarja replied. " Now, pay attention. We need to understand how they're interwoven ."
For what felt like an eternity but was probably closer to an hour, we meticulously unraveled the magical knot hovering above the locket. Tarja's voice echoed in our minds, guiding us through the intricate process with a patience I never knew she possessed. “Careful now,” she warned as I reached out to tug at a particularly nasty-looking thread of magic. “ That strand is connected to a temporal distortion field. One wrong move, and you might find yourself reliving this delightful moment for the next century.”
It wasn't easy, to put it mildly. The magical threads were a tangled mess of malevolent energy. Each one seemed to actively resist our efforts to understand it. More than once, my personal protection bubble—the one courtesy of my babies--activated with a sudden, violent shimmer. It bounced Dark magic away from me like a cosmic pinball machine.
"Phoebe!" Aidon's voice cut through the air, tight with concern. "That last one nearly got through. We need to be more careful."
As if to punctuate his point, a tendril of Dark magic lashed out. It writhed like an angry serpent. Aidon moved faster than I thought possible. His enchanted dagger flashed in the candlelight as he severed the magical attack before it could reach any of us.
The severed magic dissipated with a hiss that sounded disturbingly like a scream.
"Thanks," I muttered, my heart pounding. "Guess this really is the world's most complicated game of magical Operation. Except instead of a buzzer, we get... what? Eternal damnation? Spontaneous combustion?"
“Let's not find out, shall we?” Tarja's voice was dry in our minds. “ Now, focus on that golden thread to your left. It seems to be a key component of the time loop. If we can isolate it...”
We pressed on, each of us acutely aware that one wrong move could potentially end not just us, but our entire family. As we worked, the magical knot slowly began to untangle. It revealed layers of curses and enchantments more complex than anything I'd ever encountered. It was like peeling an onion, with each layer booby-trapped and potentially world-ending.
Finally, Tarja dropped her head to her front paws. " It's done. You've mapped out the curse structure. "
I leaned in, trying to make sense of the floating diagram. "So... what does it all mean?"
“It means we're dealing with something far more complex than we initially thought,” Tarja's voice echoed in our minds, her tone grave. “ The locket isn't just cursed. It's a nexus point for all seven objects. Breaking its curse incorrectly could trigger a cascade effect, activating all the others simultaneously.
"And that would be bad," I guessed.
"Bad?" Nana cackled. "Girl, that would make the apocalypse look like a Sunday picnic."
"So how do we free Stella without, you know, ending the world?" I asked.
And that's when the brainstorming session from hell began. We spent the next few hours tossing around ideas, each one more outlandish than the last. Nana suggested we try to "out-curse the curse" by layering on so many minor hexes that the original curse would get confused and give up. We tried it. Result? The locket started singing show tunes. Badly. And Stella was still stuck.
Aidon thought we could create a magical siphon to drain the curse's energy. We gave it a shot. For a brief, glorious moment, it seemed to be working. Then, the siphon overloaded and turned every piece of furniture in the room into gelatin. Do you know how hard it was to sit on a Jell-o couch? Not comfortable, let me tell you.
In a moment of sleep-deprived genius, I suggested we try to reason with the curse. You know, appeal to its better nature. Turns out, curses don't have better natures. Or a sense of humor. Or any interest in my impassioned speech about friendship and the power of love. Who knew?
We tried everything. Magical tuning forks. Cursed object feng shui. A particularly energetic interpretive dance that I was pretty sure violated several laws of physics and good taste. Nothing worked. Stella remained stubbornly stuck in her loop, and we were no closer to a solution.
As the sun began to set and cast long shadows across our gelatin-furniture-filled living room, despair settled in. We were out of ideas, out of energy, and dangerously close to being out of hope. "Maybe," I said in a small voice, "maybe we're approaching this all wrong. We've been trying to break the curse, to overpower it. But what if... what if we need to work with it instead?"
Aidon looked at me, his eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?"
I gestured to Stella, still frozen mid-reach. "The curse trapped her in a loop, right? So instead of trying to break the loop, what if we try to... I don't know, extend it? Give her more time?"
“That’s an interesting idea,” Tarja mused. “ If we could manipulate the temporal aspect of the curse, we might be able to give Stella enough awareness to break free from within.”
Mom's eyes narrowed. "Promising start. Go on."
"Well," I continued, warming to my idea, "if we could somehow stretch the loop from five seconds to, say, five minutes, it might give Stella enough time to find a way to break free from the inside. We will tell her what’s happening to make her aware she needs to do something, of course."
There was a moment of silence as everyone considered this. Then, slowly, Nana began to grin. "You know what, kiddo? That's just crazy enough to work."
And so began attempt number... well, I'd lost count at this point. This time felt different. Not only were we trying to negotiate with the curse, we weren’t acting out of desperation. Nana and Mom worked together to modify the diagnostic circle, while Tarja and I prepared a new set of incantations. It was a delicate balance, trying to influence the curse without triggering its defensive measures.
Once we settled on the approach to take and I began, I felt a familiar tingle in my fingertips. The babies’ magic was stirring. I placed a hand on my swollen belly, sending a silent prayer to whatever higher powers might be listening. Please, don't let them start another storm. This had to work.
The chant flowed from my tongue along with my magic. The air around Stella began to shimmer and distort. Ten seconds later, it became clear that the familiar five-second loop had stretched like taffy. We watched, hardly daring to breathe, as seconds ticked by. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. And more.
Selene and Nina started shouting at Stella about her predicament and her need to break free while I concentrated on my intent so the loop didn’t shrink. It might have been unnecessary, but I was taking no chances with my best friend. And then, miracle of miracles, Stella blinked. Really blinked, not the mechanical motion we'd seen a thousand times before. Her eyes widened, darting around the room in confusion.
"Wha- what's going on?" she asked, her voice hoarse. "Why are you all staring at me? And why is the furniture made of Jell-o?"
I let out a laugh that was half-sob, half-hysteria. "Stella! You're back!"
As we rushed to fill her in on what had happened, a swell of pride filled me. We'd done it. Against all odds, we'd found a way to beat the curse. Or at least negotiate a temporary truce. As the initial euphoria faded, reality set back in. We'd won this battle, but the war was far from over. The one thing that had become clear through this process was that we had six more cursed objects to deal with. And a power-hungry witch to stop.
“Well done, all of you,” Tarja praised. “ But remember, there is more to do. We've bought ourselves some time, but Lyra's still out there. And those cursed objects won't neutralize themselves.”
We might be out of our depth. We might be facing odds that would make Vegas bookies weep. But we had something Lyra and her curses didn't: each other. And if there's one thing I've learned in this crazy, magic-filled life of mine, it's that together, we could face anything. Even if "anything" involved Jell-o furniture and time loops.