Witch out of Water Read online

  “Alisia?”

  A wave of elation flowed through me... along with a pinch of guilt for forgetting about my beloved kid sister, despite her being the first family member I thought of when I awoke in my bed less than an hour ago. A broken heart can do that, I guess.

  “Who else would it be, Bas?” She laughed. “Are there other siblings I should know about, perhaps hiding out in Bajenie?”

  I shook my head sheepishly. “God, it’s so good seeing you, sis!” I stepped over to the table’s welcome shade.

  “Are you going to keep the scruff on your face?”

  “What scruff?” I subconsciously touched my chin and cheeks, stunned to find I actually had more stubble than the five-o’clock shadow I expected. “Oh, sweet Jesus, what in the hell is this shit?”

  Frankly, I was surprised that my parents, grandparents, and even my ornery bearded uncle had failed to mention this fun fact. Maybe they assumed I had viewed myself in a mirror before storming downstairs in anger.

  “It’s not so bad, Bas.” Alisia eyed me lovingly, tossing back her long blonde hair that hung loose just below her shoulders. “I kind of like it, actually. Makes you look almost distinguished... once you take a shower and shed that seaside smell.” She laughed.

  Always beautiful, with the best of Mom and Dad’s features, and the same sapphire eyes as our mother and me, there was something different... a radiance about her that I had noticed immediately, though it took a moment to define the change. My gut told me it wasn’t completely on account of a cute little dog she was holding.

  “Who’s this, Ali?”

  I pointed at the dark-haired terrier mix that blinked at me with intelligent dark eyes.

  “His name is Lucian. Dad got him for me last September, after it got lonely around here,” she said. “He’s a rescue from Dalton, Georgia. I think he likes you... his tail’s wagging.”

  The adorable pup’s face reminded me of the Ewoks from the famed Star Wars movies. His tail wagging faster, Lucian jumped down, alternately twirling and prancing like a miniature horse.

  Smitten, I reached down and scooped him up. He allowed me to cradle him on my shoulder like an infant child.

  “Impressive... he only allows Mom and Dad to do that, and me, of course,” said Alisia.

  “Where’d this little guy learn to twirl and dance like that?”

  “He’s just always been that way. He’s a Griffonshire, but different than any I’ve ever heard about. Mom was the one to first find him, during an internet search to find a pet for me. Dad and Grandpa traveled to Georgia to officially adopt him.” She rose from her chair. I noticed my kid sister was dressed up nice in a casual skirt and summer blouse, forgoing the frayed cutoffs and rock n’ roll t-shirts she favored... or had before my incarceration. “I’m glad Lucian likes you, Bas. Maybe he can help fill the void until you... um. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I said, wondering more about the conversations amongst my family about my forbidden relationship with Daciana Matei. Did they all agree it was such a bad thing? Or, was it strictly focused on whatever it takes to keep peace with the Mateis?

  My sister shook her head, as if about to address my unspoken questions. Her psychic gifts are thought to be even stronger than Mom’s or Grandma’s, and with further training, she may one day be more formidable than my Uncle Adrian. I didn’t want to dampen the moment by sharing my fear that nothing would ever fill the void, despite the likelihood my sister had already detected my thoughts threatening to spiral downward. Still, her gesture was a kind one, including the little guy’s name.

  “Why did you name the dog, Lucian?” I asked, looking to distract my mind from soul-killing despair.

  “Because Dad liked it... and I think it was a slip.”

  “Since it’s also the name of my broomstick?”

  “Careful, big brother—say the name like that, and your broomstick might just come flying out of hiding and bop you on the back of your head!”

  “Ha! Probably true.” I chuckled for a moment.

  I actually missed Lucian—the broomstick, that is. Yet, in the span of just a few minutes, Alisia’s little dog had quickly forged a way inside my heart. The two Lucians would have to share that special spot.

  “You look... well, sort of like you’re planning to go on a date. No?” I said, kiddingly.

  “Actually, I am.” She smiled shyly. “Harris will be here in a few minutes to pick me up for an ‘approved’ outing.”

  “Harris Martin?”

  She nodded.

  “When did that start?”

  “What... going on dates with Harris?

  “Yeah. Last I checked, you were looking for a cowboy or two to roll around in the hay.” I added an ornery smile and she blushed as if she had forgotten her joke to me when Daciana first showed up in our lives, and my sis sensed trouble afoot.

  “I guess a lot has changed since, um, you were taken away from here.” She looked away uncomfortably.

  “Is it serious?”

  I didn’t want to come across as an ass, and for those familiar with my previous journal, they’ll recall that I am quite fond of Harris Martin.

  “Yeah... it is.”

  “Really. Hmmm.”

  She returned her gaze to me, studying my face. I could tell she wanted my approval.

  “I like Harris... he’s a good guy,” I said. “What’s Mom and Dad think?”

  “Who cares? It’s my life and my heart’s choice.”

  “So, they don’t approve?”

  Frankly, I was saddened for a moment, since I had assumed Mom and Dad liked our neighborhood handyman. A kid roughly my physical age of nineteen... a year ago, at least.

  “They love him, and have given their blessing for however things end up. Same for Grandma and Grandpa.”

  “Wow. That says a lot.”

  “So... do you approve?”

  “I thought you didn’t care, Ali.”

  She sighed and shook her head, eyeing me coyly.

  “I don’t care what Mom, Dad, or anyone else thinks. And they all approve,” she said. “But you....”

  She didn’t finish—likely distracted by Harris’ arrival, who waved warmly to me once he noticed my presence as he walked up the paved driveway before jogging across the yard to join us.

  “It’s your life and heart’s choice,” I said chuckling, while ignoring the ache in my chest from not being afforded the same option. “But, yeah, I most certainly approve.”

  I set the dog down and brushed by my sister to greet Harris. A strong, handsome mortal from the neighborhood and who befriended me first, when I struggled with trimming the boxwoods that line the inside of the Victorian fence along the front of our property. Now, in the present, his smile shined brightly from within his flawless ebony complexion.

  Kid could be a model... but I also noticed he carried a limp that hadn’t been there before.

  “Hey, Bas—it’s good to have you back, man!”

  “Thanks, Harris.”

  I thought we would share a handshake, but he raised an elbow to bump instead. It must’ve been the confusion on my face that made him grin awkwardly.

  “Social distancing,” said Alisia from behind me. “Since you and I are impervious to disease and are no danger to spread anything to any mortals, Harris doesn’t have to wear a mask here on our property. But he and I will wear masks when we go into town in a few minutes.”

  “Masks? What disease?”

  “Covid-19... it’s everywhere, man,” said Harris, shaking his head. “Killed an uncle of mine in Alabama in July, and it’s just now getting bad in Herschel County after the school year started.”

  “What in the hell is Covid—”

  “It’s sort of like the flu bug that happened worldwide back in 1918. You lived through it. Remember how bad Mom and Dad said it was?” Alisia came up from behind, and handed her pooch to me, who quickly climbed up my chest to get a secure grip on my shoulder. “But, Covid-19 is worse in many ways. In the long
run, it could be really bad for mortals. Look it up when you get time, later—both it and ‘social distancing’. Millions of people have it and two hundred thousand people have died from it in America. It’s no joke, Bas.... We will see you at the party this afternoon!”

  “I’m looking forward to catching up with you, Bas!” Harris called over his shoulder as he and my sister hurried to where Harris’ rebuilt GTO from yesteryear sat parked along Chaffin’s Bend near the refurbished barn.

  “Me, too, Harris! See you both later!”

  I waved while watching this happy couple step through the gate at the end of the driveway and walk hand in hand to the car, realizing I had a helluva lot to catch up on, starting with their cool love affair. But I also had questions about why a budding football star now walked favoring an injury that surely was the reason he was still here in Denmark instead of pursuing his college football dreams across the state in Knoxville. Last time Harris and I had talked, he told me about a full-ride athletic scholarship offer he planned to accept from the University of Tennessee.

  “Would Ali have followed you to Knoxville, if given the chance?” I wondered aloud. “And, would the EEC and my family have supported it if she had?”

  Knowing my sister’s ornery nature, she would’ve done whatever her heart directed, the consequences be damned.

  It made me think of Daciana Matei.

  Maybe I should be more like my sister.... Maybe what seems bleak and hopeless isn’t impossible after all.

  A slight smile tugged on the corners of my mouth as I returned to the house. My broomstick’s namesake clung to my shoulder for dear life as I scrambled up the stairs to the back porch. Spurred by a tender flame of hope, I practically flew up the stairs once inside Twin Magnolias.

  Time to get busy.

  Chapter Four

  Covid-19 is indeed a wicked bug.

  I spent an hour online getting caught up on the disease and also this crazy ‘social distancing’ thing. But the precautions were necessary, and after continued spikes across the country still happening—with a predicted horrible surge coming before year’s end—I resolved to do whatever would keep me from standing out like a sore thumb.

  Besides, we Radus pride ourselves on being helpful and gracious to our mortal counterparts. Mom had already laid a brand-new black face mask on my nightstand.

  So that’s taken care of.

  Of course, what I spent most of my time working on—once I showered and shaved, and had taken Mom up on her breakfast offer—was discreetly looking into everything I could learn about the European warlocks and witches belonging to the Matei and Radu clans. Much of the early afternoon disappeared while I scanned the history and mindset of our European cousins (Radus) and our enemies (Mateis).

  And, not to be completely foolhardy in what I hoped was a covert beginning in trying to find a way to reach Daciana, I spent time reviewing the appropriate EEC mandates in The Code.

  Would you believe there is nothing in The Code that addresses a situation quite like mine? Sure, there are rules that must be followed—largely arcane bullshit dealing with pre-arranged marriages. But, many of those restrictions have been amended. Fortunately, for us warlocks and witches wanting to know the history of a decree, these hallowed guidelines from the EEC show the previous laws alongside the alterations, and even alongside subsequent ‘rulings’ brought to rectify previous errors, or show the evolution of our kind in terms of cultural adaptations.

  In other words, the document lends itself to some transparency, although the same bureaucracy that plagues most mortal governments on Earth has seeped into the EEC over the years. And, that aspect could be the biggest sticking point—should I somehow be successful in my scheme to reconnect with Daciana.

  I could’ve dug a little deeper into some of The Code’s older treatises about consequences for disobeying ordinances regarding ’family decrees’, but our party guests began to arrive. Bursts of laughter from downstairs told me it was time to end the research and face my present reality: the Denmarkian society I had missed out on watching evolve during the past fourteen months.

  “Sebastian? It’s time, son!” Mom called from the foyer.

  “Coming!” I grabbed my face mask and put it on. A glance in my dresser mirror brought an unseen smirk from behind the mask.

  I look like a bank robber!

  Maybe I could grab my fur-lined bomber jacket and float down to the foyer, ala the villain ‘Bane’ from The Dark Knight Rises. But then I remembered not everyone knew our family was a clan of semi-immortals. Before my incarceration, we were viewed by the neighborhood as simply a quirky family. I assumed this opinion remained largely unchanged, and that very few Denmarkians knew our true identities as witches and warlocks.

  So, I walked down the stairs like a normal kid—one whom the local folks would believe to be a twenty-year-old ‘free spirit’ returning from a fourteen-month sabbatical journey around the world. Thankfully, during my one-hundred-and-thirty-year lifetime, I’ve been afforded the opportunity to visit most countries on the planet. It made Grandma’s advisory about me spending time in Europe, northern Africa, and southern Asia something I could talk to... as long as it stayed within the confines of what those locales were like up to fifty years ago. Otherwise, I’ll be surfing my memory of what I’ve gleaned from television and the internet the past few years.

  That could be bad, honestly, since unless a modern subject fully captures my fascination, it readily disappears from my head within minutes. I would hate for any of our guests to sense this afternoon’s party was a ruse....

  “Surprise!” shouted Sadee Dean, as I stepped into view of the parlor that serves as our living room, as well as the overflowing crowd gathered in the kitchen. Our nice elderly neighbor from two doors down rushed up to deliver a peck to my masked cheek. “Welcome home, Bas!”

  Everyone else erupted into cheers and similar salutations. I scanned the crowd around me, seeing mostly familiar faces, along with Adrian’s beautiful crimson-haired wife, Catriona, and their toddlers. I also noticed another attractive, but stern-looking, blonde woman standing an exaggerated ‘social distance’ away from Manuel. Surely this must be the despised Sebrina... the only person in the crowd not smiling.

  I guess life could be worse.

  “Glad to have you back, sport!” Julien Mays greeted me, drawing my attention away from my youngest uncle’s unfortunate fate.

  My favorite neighbor wore an amused dimpled grin partially hidden by a Fu Manchu Mustache. An esteemed author who resides across the street in an amazing Queen Anne Italianate with his lovely wife, Meredith, he chuckled warmly. Julien leaned in closer, while the ice cubes in his preferred vodka and cranberry juice cocktail jingled lightly against the glass.

  “I see you’ve got your coronavirus gear on,” he drawled quietly. “Looks great, but it isn’t necessary in here, Bas. Your mom and grandma have employed a ‘misting spell’ that is killing every virus and harmful bacterium known to mankind before the tiny bastards can cross any threshold inside this fabulous home of yours.”

  He deftly motioned to the front door, where I could detect a slight glow hovering above it. Invisible to most humans. I wondered if Julien could somehow see the mist’s purple essence, too. If not, perhaps Meredith—a genuine mortal psychic—had pointed it out to him earlier.

  I removed my mask and stuffed it inside my jean’s pocket.

  “Tell us about your trip, Bas!” asked a young girl accompanied by two older ladies from around the block—Carol Morton and Alice Fullerton. I had met these ladies shortly before my fateful disappearance, and especially had enjoyed visiting with Mrs. Morton. A former school teacher, she exuded almost as much energy as the young girl I finally recognized.

  “The trip was okay. Is that you, Twyla?”

  “Yep!” She frowned and hit me on the arm—much harder than I would’ve ever thought possible. “You forgot who I was? Humph!”

  She stuck out her tongue while I massaged my arm from her
Mike Tyson sucker punch.

  “I didn’t forget you... just took a moment, since you’ve grown a lot in the past year.”

  No lie there. Some might remember the diminutive spunky little five-year-old who roams the neighborhood. Or, used to fourteen months ago. She had grown at least six inches and looked more like an eight-year-old. Same beautiful big blue eyes and gorgeous smile... and obviously the same ornery disposition.

  “Come on into the kitchen, Bas,” said Mom, accosting me and steering me away before I could answer Carol’s follow-up question about my European exploits. “The ‘Welcome Home’ ceremony is about to start, followed by food and fun, and then we’ll cut the cake for your birthday once things settle down.”

  “Sure,” I said, before signaling to Carol, Alice, and of course Twyla, that I’d be back to answer their questions, eventually.

  I could feel the crowd outside the kitchen seeking to merge with the dozen or so folks squeezed in tight around the breakfast table and much larger island, where the cake still sat since this morning. Only now, the island was also covered with enough wrapped gifts and cards to make a newlywed bride blush.

  I wanted to leave. Immediately.

  “Not until the party’s over, Bas,” Alisia whispered in my ear, taking over the chaperone role from Mom. Meanwhile, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma, and Harris stood smiling nearby, along with an elderly couple that could only be described as Haight-Ashbury hippies. Both wore their long flowing gray hair loosely, although it was laced in beads. Attired in tie-die smocks, bell bottom jeans, and flip-flops, their appearance made everything seem that much more surreal. “Try to have fun. Think of it as the first step in the next chapter of your life as a warlock.... An amazing adventure that will one day culminate when you become patriarch of our family.”

  I whirled to face her, half expecting my sis to be yanking my chain. But Alisia’s expression was serious.

  I began to wonder if this was a dream... or subtle nightmare? Feeling completely out of step with things, I longed for a return of the cavalier outlook that had marked my existence until Daciana showed up in my life.