The Moonstone (Enchantment Book 1) (11 page)

"Why do you drag that sack of walking garbage with you?" I say, pointing at the little stink bomb.

"Hey, don't call Mr. Merlin that, he's not a piece of garbage!"

The ferret looks at me as if he understood my last statement.

"Merlin is my best friend, and my most loyal one. Don't insult him."

Poor girl...if her best friend is a ferret, she must be very lonely. I wonder which one of us is the more pathetic, her with a ferret or me with nobody.

She sits on the bed, patting the space beside her for me to sit down. She has the look of a little girl ready to open her Christmas presents.

"So, tell me what your sign is and what gift you have. I can't wait!"

"My sign is Ether like my mother, it seems, and my gift, from what I can tell, is being able to manipulate time, I think."

"Wow, you’re lucky, you'll be able to make up your own team. Pick me, I'll be a great advantage."

"What about you?" I ask, trying to imitate her tone and sound like a little girl who's had too much sugar.

"I’m Earth sign, like my uncle, but my gift is even better. I'll show you later; it’ll be spectacular!"

"Whatever the gift, I’ll pick you because you're the only one I'm going to know over there."

"Don't worry about that, most of the others won't know each other and they come from all over the United States. This'll be great, Lou, we'll transform you into a great witch."

She jumps up in one motion, opens her suitcase and pulls out a whole kit: hair straightener, makeup, and all sorts of girly stuff.

"I'm not very comfortable with all that, you know."

"I know, believe me, it shows!"

She spends the next hour-and-a-half straightening and highlighting my hair and making me up. She was, at least, kind enough to respect the fact that I’m new to this and gave me a subtle look. Flicka then takes an outfit out of her bag. It’s a shiny black dress, not shiny as if it were covered in rhinestones, but twinkling like the starry sky. The whole outfit is practical, though, because the dress has a simple cut and the fabric is as light as silk. I’ve never seen anything like it; it’s so delicate that it seems as if spiders wove it. The dress is very long and falls to my ankles. Flicka then hands me a pair of silver sandals that go all the way up my ankle like the collar of a shirt. I'm not usually a follower of fashion, but I suspect my mother would kill for a pair of shoes like these. Looking at myself in the large mirror that dominates the far end of the room, I am startled by what I see. In fact, I like it a lot and feel very comfortable. It's almost as if she’s created the perfect outfit for me. I look...

"You look great! I love that cut on you, and in my opinion, it should go with your sign."

"But you didn't know what my sign was, so how did you know to pick this one?"

"I'm a little embarrassed, but I created an outfit for every sign, I didn't want to risk it. Honestly, I had hoped that you were Ether because seeing your photo and listening to my uncle talk about you; I figured this outfit would be perfect for you."

"It's obvious you must have a gift for fashion, I adore it, and believe me, that's saying a lot! Normally I wear nothing but my comfortable old clothing."

"And you'll burn them all, now!"

"That's out of the question."

"I'm kidding, but you can't take them with you, except for your leather jacket, that's ok."

I think I'm starting to like this Flicka. It's hard not to be friends with someone so enthusiastic!

"Girls, come on, it's time to train," calls Charles from the bottom of the staircase.

"We'd better go. Otherwise, he might decide to take away our candy privileges."

There's no way I want to get myself barred from his candy stash, so the best thing is to go down right away.

Once outside, Charles is waiting for us next to a table covered with various items.

"Ok, to start off, Lou, I’d like to show you what we can do, and I'll let my dear niece go first. As the expression goes, ladies first!!" he says in his most theatrical voice. Once in a while, he drops his guard, and I can see the man that he must have been before my mother's death.

"Charles!! You didn't warn me that I’d have to perform, I thought we were here for her, not the other way around," answered Flicka, watching her uncle, arms crossed as if she were an angry child contradicting her parents.

"Oh, less of the attitude! Show her what you can do. Lou needs to understand our world. Go on, don't be so stubborn, you're acting just like your father!"

Flicka smiles:

"I'm just kidding, you know I'm dying to show her."

She puts her fingers to her mouth and loudly whistles. Her little ferret immediately appears at a run and climbs her leg to snuggle into her neck.

"So, that's your great power? Training a ferret? I’m amazed, that’s for sure. With a gift like that, you should be afraid to show yourself in public, humans would make quick work of you!" I say, laughing out loud. It was such a big buildup for such a small result.

"What do you take me for, a novice? Please, let me finish. He'll come and see you, and you'll tell him a secret so that we can't hear."

The animal quickly moves towards me and comes to hide his head in my neck.

"Oh my God, he stinks, it disgusting!"

"Just plug your nose, little princess and tell him your deepest and darkest secret," she says, winking at her uncle, who raises his eyebrow, slightly discouraged.

The ferret tilts its head as if to give me a signal. Without conviction, given the ridiculousness of the situation, I whisper quietly in a way that no one else can hear. He then hurriedly wriggles back over to his mistress. A few moments later, she starts to laugh out loud.

"Do you mean to tell me that you always wear pink underwear, no matter what?! That's the dumbest secret I've ever heard!"

"It's because my mother had a thing for pink when I was little. In my rebellious teenage years I wore only black, but I found it ironic to wear pink underwear. It's my personal mock-vendetta with my mother. I keep up the whole underwear thing out of habit. Let's get back to the subject at hand, though. What’s your gift? Bionic ears?"

Flicka shakes her head, discouraged. She looks at her uncle and answers me as if she were a teacher speaking to a student who doesn't understand a thing.

"Well of course not, miss! I speak to animals, Merlin came and repeated your secret back to me."

I look at her and turn my attention back to Charles who confirms with a nod.

"Wow, that's crazy!!"

This world is so fascinating, so many things I don't know or understand. I'm anxious to start living this new life, but I must say that it’s hard to assimilate.

Charles walks towards Flicka and takes a Swiss army knife from his pocket.

"Flicka, show her your main gift, go ahead, leave the party tricks, we've already lost a lot of time."

Flicka grabs her ferret and gives him a kiss on the snout. I can't help but grimace in disgust.

"Don't you worry, Merlin, you're more than just a party trick. Just ignore the old grouch."

"Leave your furry friend, if you don't mind, we have a lot of work to do."

Saying these words, Charles opens the knife, cuts open the palm of his hand and starts to bleed profusely.

I run towards him to try and rescue him, unsure of the manic behavior he’s exhibiting, but too worried to concern myself with it.

"Oh my God, Charles! Are you nuts?" I say to him, trying to avoid the tornado that is Flicka, who is suddenly there, blocking my passage.

"Charles, you know I hate it when you do this!"

Flicka scolds her uncle, roughly grabbing his hand in hers.

"Ouch! Gently! It hurts!"

"You deserve it! Now, stop complaining and let me do my work."

Flicka passes her other hand over his and closes her eyes. A diffuse green mist suddenly appears as a cloud around her body. After a couple of seconds, it disappears and Flicka lets go of her uncle's hand. I get closer to see what's going on. Nothing! The cut has disappeared, and so has the blood.

"In-cre-di-ble!! So you can heal any wound?" I ask her, taking the knife.

"More or less, I'm still a novice," she says, taking the knife from me and hiding it in her bag.

"I can't do it often, though, because it exhausts me completely and I need a long time to recuperate. Charles knows that, and sometimes I think he's trying to do away with me. I'll need a rest and a large sugary snack after that one!"

"Oh my poor dear, you have so much to complain about! Go on, take the key to my Ali Baba's cave as an apology," he answers, throwing her the keys.

"But don't give any to your hamster."

Flicka turns and makes a face at him while she continues her way up to the house.

"It's a ferret, Charles!" she yells.

"Whatever, it's still a rodent."

"Does she always have it with her?" I ask, whispering, worried that either she or her ferret might actually have bionic ears.

"Oh yes, they're inseparable. She got him from one of her best friends who died last year, killed by a black witch. Since then, they’ve been joined at the hip."

"Black witches, now what are those?!”

Charles chooses a few jars, mixes some powders together, and then throws the black, shimmering mixture into the air.

"This is an imagination powder. It is usually used on children, when we tell them stories, the powder creates images for our words, a little like in a movie."

I watch him, silent, ready to listen, or, at least, to watch whatever he’ll be describing to me.

"There is goodness and kindness in humans, but also in enchanters. We’ve a little of both in us, but as you know, enchanters are fairly neutral in general. There are, however, three kinds of enchanters. The neutral ones make up ninety-five percent of our population, the rest are divided into two categories. Certain enchanters are born with a more human side. They are more in touch with their emotions and eventually find themselves at a crossroads, either they fall, or they rise. Those that rise are those who are animated by deep love and wisdom. Eventually, they become white enchanters. You can recognize them by their snow-white hair and their emerald green eyes. Their cities are in the Antarctic, and they manage to live far away from the impurity in the world."

While he’s reciting, images go past me as clearly as if they were in front of me. The white sorcerers project a feeling of pure goodness that pierces my soul.

"The white enchanters prefer to stay on the margins of our society because they judge our world as tarnished and it negatively affects their energy. Very few of us have ever had the chance to meet one."

He turns his back to me, and I can hear the quiver in his voice. At that instant, an image of my biological mother appears on the smokescreen.

"She sacrificed her mutation to create you."

"Are you telling me that my mother would have become a white witch?"

"Yes, Lou, she would have. She was due to transform, we all felt it, and they came to get her. But her goodness knew no bounds, and she returned her love of humans by offering them her most precious gift, you."

"My God..."

That's all I could think of to say while staring at the image of my mother, happy, rubbing her pregnant belly.

"I never thought I was worthy to touch someone as perfect as her. I didn't deserve her."

I try to interrupt and contradict him, but he continues with his monolog.

"There’s purity, but just like Yin and Yang, there is also darkness. Black enchanters are the vilest creatures you could ever meet. Devil on earth, terror incarnate. They metamorphose in the same way, but for them, their heart is filled with vengeance and horror. They’re pale and have dark hair. You know the stories that humans tell about vampires, well, they're not all without merit. Black witches inspired those stories. They don't drink blood, but they do make it flow continually, and they take part in sacrifices and satanic rituals. They’ve an insatiable thirst for world domination, and if there's anyone you need to beware of on your quest, it's them. Don't worry, though, there aren't many of them, and most of them are in England. Also, they don't have the right to come into an enchanted city, under pain of sacrifice by the council. Until now, they haven't disobeyed that law, but I can't guarantee they won't change their minds once they find out that you’ve the power to find the Emerald Table."

The simple fact that these creatures could wish to possess me for any reason gives me chills.

"Don't worry, Lou, I won't let anybody hurt you. Anyway, you’ve nothing to worry about at the Academy, it's the last place that a black witch would try to get close to you."

"And Lord Black?" I ask, remembering the frightening way that Gisèle described him.

"Lord Black is an enchanter who’s a member of the Council. He’s simply a power-hungry bad person, but I doubt he’s more than that."

I highly doubt he’s revealed the whole truth of Lord Black to me, but I'm not ready to know the depths of a heartless being like him.