Chapter 17 #3
“Yes… I suppose it is.” But Malcolm didn’t have the heart to tell his friend nothing would ever feel good again.
“Well, I’d better get back. Sage has me running the shop when she’s casting protective spells around the town or helping with the festival preparations,” Jasper finally said. He placed a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “You know you only have to call me if you need me.”
“Thanks.” Malcolm had watched him walk away too.
Everything his friend had left behind for him had been void of any memory of her.
His clothes were clean, no lingering smell of pumpkins, spice, or sugar—the things that he’d come to associate with Calli.
No old books. No muffin crumbs on any of his clothes.
No cat hair from Persephone. Nothing to reflect the place that she held in his heart, or the depth of his loss.
The absence of her in those boxes and in his life was such a vast feeling that it spread over the entire sky of his world.
Every storm cloud and cold autumn day held her name.
For every minute he felt the burning agony of losing her, he couldn’t let himself forget that he was the one responsible for all of it. He’d destroyed her life twice. It seemed only fair that he felt what she was enduring.
After two hours of setting things up, he sat down on the single loveseat he’d brought from his old apartment. He let out a sigh and tilted his head back with a groan.
Something tapped the window, making his head jerk up. He turned around and closed the door, facing the boxes that contained his life, knowing he would find nothing of Calli in them.
A large black raven was staring right at him with its head slightly cocked. He recognized Poe, Lady Batsford’s familiar. He had a feeling he knew why it was here.
“Already?” He got up and opened the window.
The raven flew in and perched on the back of the sofa.
The raven wore a blue collar with a ruby stone around his neck.
As the bird faced him, the gemstone cast a light into the room, forming what Malcolm had always called a witch hologram.
The spell had a far more arcane and formal sounding name, but witch hologram was more direct.
The ruby light coalesced into the form of Serafina’s face.
“Malcolm, your presence is required in the Council Chambers. Use the traveling mirror.”
Malcolm looked around the room. “What traveling—?”
There was a heavy thud in his bedroom. The raven took flight, soaring out of the window and vanishing from sight. Malcolm closed the window and went to check on the sound he heard in the other room.
A tall gilded framed mirror, at least seven feet in height, gleamed in the fading evening light.
He placed his hand on the surface and tried to push it, wondering if that was how to travel.
Suddenly he was hurtling through a murky lake, swimming, struggling to hold his breath.
And then he was flung through onto the other side landing face down his stomach.
Choking for air yet somehow miraculously not wet, he glanced around.
Someone chuckled and hands helped him stand up. “Tried to step into the mirror a little too hard?” A warlock asked.
“I guess so.” Malcolm recognized the man who’d spoken as Curtis Batsford, Serafina’s husband. The man his father had wanted him to take remedial magic lessons from.
“The only safe way is to fall through. Place your hand on the mirror to let it guide you. Don’t step into it. Just let it pull you. Magic is about trust. Trusting yourself and trusting the magic. The traveling mirror operates under that very same principle.”
“Why don’t we use portals or totems?” he asked grumpily as he brushed off his jeans and fixed his flannel shirt. He saw the other council members were dressed more formally than he was. Great. No one told him it was a formal affair.
“I can answer that,” Lady Batsford came over, her long cloak trailing over the permanent spells carved on the floor of the Council chambers. Her black witch’s hat was perched fashionably on her head.
“Portals are too violent and unpredictable for our sacred space. Traveling totems have a way of ending up in places they shouldn’t. We can’t have the sanctity of our chambers open to anyone but us or those we invite by careful invitation. The traveling mirror can only be operated by you.”
She placed a cloak around his shoulders and stared into his eyes.
“Today we examine your skills more deeply. Remember, we all know you, each of us. We’ve kept a watchful eye on you as you grew up, and now it’s time we see how far you are ready to go in learning your craft.
Being a part of this council is a bit like being part of a family.
” She gestured toward the witches and warlocks in the room.
“Whatever happens, we will support you, guide you, teach you. All we ask is that you trust us, and most importantly yourself.”
He nodded and then took his appointed place along the circle, standing shoulder to shoulder with the most powerful magical people in his world.
Today would answer the question of whether or not he truly belonged among them.