Prologue~Ch. 1~Ch. 2~Ch. 3~Ch. 4~Ch. 5~Ch. 6~Ch. 7~Ch. 8~
“Maybe we should sit down,” Jessica said, shutting the door again.
Howard nodded. They went back into the living room where he perched on the arm of a chair, turning the jewel case around and around in his hands.
“Sometimes it’s really hard to be different, you know?” He looked at her.
“You’re not just talking about being gay, are you?”
“No, I’m not. It’s the magic thing. It makes me feel more apart than being gay. Lot’s of people are gay, these days it’s not so much of a big deal, but the magic thing, that’s another story.”
“Magic is for fairy tales and the movies,” Jessica said softly.
He sighed and slid down into the chair. “Do you remember when we were kids and we used to play swords and sorcery games?”
Jessica nodded, smiling. “You were going to be the King’s High Wizard and I was going to be a Lady Knight.”
“But we grew up, and you put aside your sword . . .”
“Not entirely,” Jessica said slowly. “I still keep up with the fencing I took in highschool, and I’ve practically memorized every swashbuckler that’s ever been filmed. In fact, that’s how I got involved in the Little Theatre production that’s in rehearsals right now.”
Howard stared at her in surprise. “Then maybe you might understand. I never gave up my dream of becoming a wizard, a real magic worker. I’ve got books, done years, a lifetime, of research, taken reams of notes . . . I went to Europe three summers in a row to look for proof that magic really exists.” He sighed. “I’ve made just enough progress to keep hope alive.”
Jessica opened her mouth, then shut it again. She continued to listen without interrupting.
“Anyway, I came across an ancient manuscript—trust me, you don’t want to know what I went through to get my hands on it. Jess, this thing is amazing. It’s so old it’s written on animal skins, that’s how it’s survived.
“It took me almost three years to translate even a small part of it. Jess, you just can’t imagine the world of possibilities it’s opened for me.”
Unable to sit still any longer, Howard jumped up and began to pace.
“It confirms everything I’ve always believed in. Magic exists, Jess, real magic. After all these years of studying and sweating and keeping the faith, I’m able to work and actual magical spell.”
“What kind of spell?” Jessica asked, intrigued more by Howard’s intensity than what he was actually saying.
“It’s a transferral spell.”
“Transferral?”
“It allows you to move an object from one place to another.”
“You mean like telekinesis?”
“Telekinesis is moving objects with your mind, this is done using pure magic. I know how all this sounds, Jess but—”
“I remember some of the stuff you used to be able to do as a kid,” she said slowly. “Those weren’t just magic tricks to you, were they?”
“No, they weren’t.”
“Is that what the deal with the violet was all about? You really did teleport it into my kitchen?”
He nodded.
“I have only a small amount of magical energy so I was only able to move a small object. It’s not enough, Jess. I want more.”
Jessica reached over and put her hand over his. “I’m listening, Howard.”
“I’ve been in touch with a local coven . . . covens are great at raising magical energy, but they just release it. I want to try and channel it into the transferral spell. I want to try and move a person.”
“You mean me, don’t you? You want to use magic to transport me from one place to another.”
“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell, Jess,” Howard said in a small voice. “I know how all this sounds, but you’re the only one I could think of that would even come close to understanding, and—”
“Okay, Howard.”
“What?”
“I said okay, I’ll do it.”
“You will?”
“Howard, we’ve been friends for a long time and maybe I don’t buy into all this magic stuff, but any fool can see how important this is to you.”
“Oh, thank you, Jess, thank you,” he jumped up and hugged her. “I’m right, you’ll see. This is going to be great!”
“Just so long as it doesn’t involve sacrificing chickens or anything like that.”
Howard was not amused. “You know me better than that. All you have to do is stand in one spot.”
“That I can do,” Jessica assured him. “When is it?”
“The Saturday after next.”
“I have a rehearsal until 11.”
“That works out great, I won’t need you until after that.”
“Okay, Howard, you’ve got yourself a guinea pig.”
“Great! I can’t tell you what this means to me. I’ll let you know about the pendant.” With that he was gone.
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