Chapter 11 #2
Talula closed the café door and locked it, listening as Michail walked farther into the shop.
His shoes sounded so strange. Talula glanced at the hem of his too-long pants and swallowed back a gasp.
Hooves. Michail had cloven hooves. Talula looked up to Michail’s face.
The newcomer had taken off his bowler hat, revealing a pair of corkscrew horns peeking out from his hair.
“It’s a lovely shop you’ve got here.” Michail admired the tarot collection on the occult side of the café. “Eclectic, yet homey.”
“Thanks,” Talula said warmly.
“But of course, you’re not here to admire the scenery. To the Volta we go,” Simon said, turning to waddle through the Employees Only door.
They made their way down the stairs to the basement, where the Volta glowed as blue and beautiful as usual, tendrils reaching out toward Talula in greeting.
“My goodness,” Michail said breathlessly. “What a wonder.”
The Volta shimmered even brighter, as if flattered.
“Unlike our work with the jinn, we won’t be summoning the perfect place of belonging for Michail. He’s already found it,” Simon explained.
“Not it. Him.” Michail pulled what looked like an old-fashioned pocket watch out of his jacket. With a click, it opened up to a picture of a grinning man with black hair that shot out in all directions. A pair of pointy ears peeked out from the strands.
Talula melted. “He’s absolutely dashing. What’s his name?”
“Linh,” Michail said, blushing. “We met on an art history Internet forum, can you imagine?”
Simon explained, “Michail will meet Linh in Pompeii.”
“We’ve always wanted to see the frescoes in the Villa of the Mysteries,” Michail said to Talula. He dropped his voice. “Especially, ahem, the House of Lovers.”
“Talula,” Simon commanded. “Take us to Pompeii.”
Heart pounding, Talula approached the portal.
Her shoulders pulled nearly up to her ears, her spine stiff.
Blue tendrils flicked at her teasingly. Talula had the strangest sense that the Volta was laughing at her rigidity.
She took a breath and let her shoulders relax.
Finally, she let her magic reach out to the Volta.
A whisper of That’s better flowed through her.
“To Pompeii,” she murmured to herself. The Volta became a smear of blue-tinged images until it stilled. It showed Talula ancient relics, where tourists snapped photos, guides strode confidently through ruins, and an errant breeze tossed a paper map over stone pathways.
“Very good.” Simon nodded. “Michail, are you ready?”
Michail clip-clopped to the blue membrane of the Volta. He reached out his fingers to the bustling scene, trembling.
It had been like this once, Talula thought, far away from herself, as she watched visitors ambling through Pompeii’s streets. Full of people and noise and color. Until it wasn’t…Talula ached, thinking of that ancient city ending in ash and fear.
Suddenly, the blue-tinged world of tourists and relics disappeared. Instead, Talula stared straight into the gaping maw of an active volcano. Lava rippled and spat, hurtling its raw red glow against the blue of the Volta’s membrane.
Michail gasped, snatching his fingers away.
“Talula, focus!” Simon growled.
Pompeii, please! Her mind shouted. But the Volta merely changed the view of the volcano, showing Talula the red rivers of lava carving through trees. Talula’s mind was a feedback loop of panic.
“To Pompeii!” Simon shouted.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Michail clutching his pocket watch.
To Linh. Talula pressed the thought into the Volta. To Linh, PLEASE!
In a blink, the scenery changed. They were staring at the back of a man, his black hair stuck out in all directions as if he’d been electrocuted.
He sat on a bench in a quiet corner of the ruins, his legs swinging.
Over his shoulder, Talula could see he was staring at a picture on his phone—it was a selfie of a sheepishly smiling Michail.
Michail gasped. “That’s him. That’s my Linh!”
“Can you focus long enough for Michail to get through the portal?” Simon asked Talula, barely containing his anger.
“It’s safe.” Talula swallowed. “The Volta gets it now…we had a misunderstanding. I was distracted.”
Simon’s eyes flashed darkly.
“Thank you, thank you.” Michail practically galloped into the Volta, the barrier warping around him like ripples in a pond.
Talula watched Linh whip around, his face breaking out into a toothy grin.
Right as they reached for each other, Talula broke her connection to the Volta. They deserve a little privacy.
Talula turned to face Simon. Her heart sunk. Rage simmered in his eyes.
“Home,” he seethed. “Now.”
Talula sat on her living room couch, while Simon stood on the ottoman in front of her, nearly eye to eye. They’d stewed in silence until finally Simon asked, “Do you want to be a sorceress?”
Talula jolted, taken aback. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Are you sure?” Simon asked. “Because I haven’t seen a young woman working to master her extraordinary powers.
Instead, I’ve seen a distracted, undisciplined little girl playing at magic with no thought to the consequences of her actions.
Michail was a second away from an excruciating death. Because you were distracted. Again.”
Talula winced, but his criticism churned in her gut like a bad meal.
“So I must ask you, Talula, only daughter of the most powerful magic-worker in millennia, heir to the guardianship of the Volta, Do you want to be a sorceress?”
Shame warmed her cheeks. “Yes.”
“Then you must let go of your human distractions.”
Talula shook her head. “But Simon, we need to be a part of the human world if the Blue Moon is going to keep up its cover. Plus, I’m not like my mom; I’m half human! I need human things like food and bike rides—”
“Dahlia.” Simon stared levelly at Talula. “You must let go of Dahlia.”
Now Talula’s cheeks were really on fire. “I don’t have Dahlia.”
“No, but she has you, doesn’t she?” Simon replied.
“She’s the sun, and you’re an idiotic little flower, following her every move with your thoughts and eyes.
She distracts you from your purpose. From your magical responsibilities.
You’re a sorceress. Or you could be, if you stopped trying so hard to belong to the human world. ”
Simon’s words resonated in the dark, quiet parts of herself.
“Do you know why Michail was sent to us?” Simon continued. “Why, despite his humanesque appearance, he needed to be sent to safety as soon as possible?”
Talula shook her head.
“The trophy hunting company has escalated,” Simon explained. “A selkie was supposed to meet your mother yesterday. She was the last to see a pod of kelpies before they were taken by the hunters.”
Suddenly, Sara’s tension during yesterday’s astral projection made more sense.
Growing up, Sara had taken Talula to visit the selkies’ shores in the warmer months.
The sly, sleek-eyed beings had shown a tiny Talula how to dive silently into the sea, to catch and cook quick-scuttling crabs, to hold her breath for a whole minute under water.
Talula didn’t have cousins or aunts, but the selkies felt as close to extended family as anything.
Talula swallowed, her pulse thick with fear. “What happened?”
“The selkie never showed up to the meeting place.” Simon let out a long breath. “Your mother followed her trail, back to the cove where she’d been hiding. She found tranquilizer darts. The same kind were left near the griffin’s nest and the goldhorn’s grazing grounds.”
Shaking, Talula asked, “Who was the selkie?”
Simon peered at her somberly. “Mhairi.”
“No.” Talula let out a strangled sound. When Talula was a child, she’d scampered after Mhairi like a duckling, imitating everything the beautiful young seal woman did.
Mhairi was playful and patient. She’d splash around with Talula in the sunlit waves and let her doze on her soft seal cloak at dusk.
But now, Mhairi was missing. Or so, so much worse.
“I’m sorry,” Simon said gently, watching tears stream down Talula’s cheeks. “But you see what’s at stake? Why it’s so important that you eliminate all distractions? Including Dahlia.”
Why did it feel like Simon was asking her to cut out a part of her heart with a jagged knife?
“I can’t ban her from the café,” Talula said numbly.
“You can certainly make her feel less welcome.”
The thought of giving Dahlia the cold shoulder made Talula feel sick.
“From now on, you’ll devote every waking moment to mastering your magic.
If I get a whiff of human distraction, I will have to let the Council know you’re unfit to serve the Volta, and you’ll be removed from the Blue Moon until you’re worthy of it.
For the good of our community. Is that understood? ”
Talula stared her mentor down, her jaw aching from clenching. She wanted to scream with grief, to stamp her feet and demand he get his fluffy ass out of her house. The house shook its walls in agreement, the protective amulets that hung from the rafters clanging out in fury.
But Talula thought of Mhairi. She thought of Michail and how close he’d been to stepping into a volcano. Because of her. That couldn’t happen again.
She had to be better. She had to be.
Sorrow shifted into self-loathing. Talula stared at her hands, clenched into fists in her lap. “I understand.”
“Good.” Simon hopped off the ottoman. “Get some sleep. We’ll start with the elements again tomorrow.”
“What if your by-the-book method still doesn’t work?” Talula asked, her voice acid despite the tears in her eyes. “What if being half human means I can’t learn magic the way you’re teaching me?”
Simon’s voice was tired. “Then maybe there was never any hope for you in the first place.”