Everything Is Not As It Seems

Everything is Not as it Seems

A collection of Short Stories

Bryan Teague This is a work of ﬁction. Names, characters, places, and in‐ cidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used ﬁctitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [email protected].

First ebook edition April 2019

Book design by Bryan Teague

bryanteague.com

2 CONTENTS

What Is in Front of You 4 Sleeping Sickness 13 On the Rooftop 18 Not Even a Mouse 20 The Dark Baker 22 Chapter 2 28 Chapter 3 39 Viviana's Tale 53 Chapter 2 58 Chapter 3 61 Chapter 4 70 Chapter 5 74 Chapter 6 79 Author Biography 83 WHAT IS IN FRONT OF YOU

Please, God, let him telephone me now. Three days ago I went out clubbing in the new smaller clothes my friends insisted looked good on me. I saw this guy, and ﬁgured what the hell; I gave him my number. I think the big reason I want him to call though, is to get people off my back. That’s probably the wrong reason, isn’t it? “He still hasn’t called, huh?” That's my roommate, Captain Obvious. He’s never dealt with waiting for a call. Not only is my roommate gorgeous, he’s talented. Everything he tries, he does perfectly, the ﬁrst time. And when we go out, I might as well be invisible standing next to his six foot four inch, broad shouldered, brown haired, blued eyed hairy chested bundle of hotness. Though he never makes me feel invisible, he is really great that way. I put on my brave face. I really didn’t think I could handle Mike’s pity tonight. Judging by the way he’s dressed in his skin- tight Levi’s and t-shirt that’s about two sizes to small, he’s off to have sex with his latest conquest. I don’t want him cancelling out of pity. Even if the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in his consoling arms holds a certain appeal. So I lie. “Oh no. He called a couple of hours ago.”

4 Bryan Teague

Mike looks at me, cocking his head. “Sure, if you say so,” he says, giving me a suspicious look. I smile back at him with all the innocence I can muster. Changing the subject, I ask, “I’m gonna ﬁx something to eat. Do you want me to make you some? I can either leave it in the oven, or toss it in the fridge. That way, when you get home, you have something to eat that’s actually healthy.” I envy Mike’s me‐ tabolism. He can eat all the junk he wants, and somehow it’s me who puts on the weight. Mike’s eyes lit up. “Yea! Thanks, that’d be great! Er, what are you going to make?” I think about telling him green bean casserole. His reaction to that always cheer me up. But I can’t harsh his happiness. “How about Chicken Kiev, Rice Pilaf and a salad.” Mike nods enthusiastically. “Yes please! Maybe I should mar‐ ry you. I mean we already live together. And you are a great cook. And everyone says we would have beautiful babies.” I snort. “Yea. I think you must have misheard that. You’re the one that would make beautiful babies.” Mike has the strangest look on his face so ﬂeetingly, I’m not sure I didn’t imagine it. “Why can’t you accept a compliment? I mean, seriously Joey, you’re a hot man.” Mike frowns, shaking his head slowly. I really did not want to have this conversation with him. Not while I was pretending to wait for some guy to call, while Mr. Perfect was getting ready to go out on his fourth date this week while I sit at home. Alone. Again. Glancing at the clock, I say, “And what time is your date? I wouldn’t want you to miss your entrance, it’s almost seven now.” Mike gasps, and frantically looks for his keys. I casually reach over and pull them off the hook where both our keys hang. “Looking for these?” I shake them to get his attention. Mike spins around, grabs the keys and heads for the door. “Thanks man! We’ll continue this conversation. But you’re right. I don’t want to be late. It’s Latin night tonight!” “Tell Enrique I say hi. And remember, don’t break him!” I call as Mike walks out the door.

5 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

Once I’m sure that Mike isn’t going to return for something he forgot, I set to work on dinner, trying to distract myself from thinking about Mike and what Latin night might mean. I serve myself a delicious dinner, carefully measuring my por‐ tions. I refuse to ever eat my feelings again. I plunk down in front of the TV. I ﬂip through the channels, settling on an old black and white Alfred Hitchcock movie.

* * * “Joey?” I could feel his hand resting on my thigh. I crack open one eye to see Mike staring at me, a concerned look etched into his face. “What?” “He didn’t call, did he?” “Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk about it.” I try to roll over, and fall off the couch. “Ouch.” I pick myself up off the floor. “Just because I’m out here doesn’t mean he didn’t call.” I walk in to my bedroom with what little dignity I hope I still have. I step into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I sigh, seeing everything that’s wrong with me. I’m the complete antithesis of Mike. Short, hairless, I still hate tight fit‐ ting clothes. Just about the only thing going for me is my blond hair and my eyes, at least that is what people tell me. “Oh you have beautiful eyes.” Yea. That’s code for “You ugly, so I have to find something I can look at.” Fighting back tears, I flip off the light so I won’t have to look at myself again. I curl up on my bed, waiting for sleep to claim me. But for far too long, all I can think about is that spot on my thigh where Mike’s hand had been. I swear, it still tingles.

* * * I wake up to the smell of coffee, and ... breakfast cooking? I didn’t think Mike brought someone home last night. Meh, he

6 Bryan Teague must have hooked up with someone and they stayed over. I won‐ der which one of his many tricks it will be this time. Sniffing the air again, I decide the most likely candidate is Peter. His specialty is French Toast, and I think I smell cinnamon. I take care of my morning routine, avoiding the mirror, and head down in a t-shirt and boxers. As I turn the corner to enter the kitchen, I say, ”I hope you made -” Mike is standing there in an apron, cooking. Unsupervised and successfully. “Oh. My. God. When did you learn to cook?” I ask, holding on to the counter with my mouth hanging open in shock. Mike smiles sheepishly at me. “Since I started watching you. I don’t know, you make it look fun.” He comes over, takes my hand, and leads me to the stove. He reminds me of an anxious child showing a parent his first cooking attempt. “Everything looks and smells delicious! When do we eat?” I ask, salivating. “Right now. You get the silverware, and I’ll serve it up.” He brings the plates in as I finish pouring the orange juice. He sets a plate in front of me and removes the cover with a flour‐ ish, making me feel like I’m in a fine restaurant. “I’m beginning to think that there isn’t anything you can’t do. This presentation is perfect.” The French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon were artfully placed on the plate, and garnished with strawberries cut in to the shape of roses resting in a banana trough. After my first bite, I say, “I’m serious, I know restaurants that don’t serve food this good.” I take a second bite, and sigh contentedly. I look up from my plate to an astonishing sight. Mike is bright red, including his ears. I can’t help myself, I laugh. “You’re blushing! I don’t think I have ever seen you do that. Not even when I walked in on you and Todd.” Mike’s blush slowly fades as he relaxes. “I’m glad you like it. And that’s high praise coming from you. You are the best cook I know.” “You only say that because I feed you,” I chide him between bites. “So, what’s the special occasion?”

7 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

“I just wanted to give you a treat this morning. If you hadn’t come down, I would have served you breakfast in bed.” “You know I sleep in the nude. Right?” “Yup. I do. Then I could have had dessert,” Mike says, wig‐ gling his eyebrows at me. I giggle, but stop when I see that Mike isn’t laughing, though he is smiling, and it’s my turn to blush. We continue to eat in silence until Mike clears his throat. “I’ve been thinking,” he says tentatively. I try to keep my face and voice neutral. Anytime Mike starts out with those words, it usually means he’s going to rope me in to some harebrained scheme that ends up with me in a bar singing karaoke. I hate Karaoke. Passionately. “What are we doing this time?” I ask. He flashes his most persuasive grin at me. This does not bode well. “I was thinking that you could come with me to that party tonight. It’s gonna be a costume party. So it will be a blast trying to figure out who everyone is behind their masks.” “Well, since that guy never called, I am free tonight. And it beats my original plans of a threesome with Ben and Jerry, and some Cherries Garcia. Sure. Why not.” “Awesome. And how about making it interesting? Say, a bet? How about thirty-five dollars that you get kissed by the end of the evening.” “Ha! That’ll be the easiest money I’ve made in a while. And all for enjoying myself at a party? You’re on!” We walk upstairs as I mumble to myself, “Now, what to go as.” “With your blond hair and your new buff body? There is no doubt! You should go as Sampson!” Mike says enthusiastically. I glare at him. “You’re joking, right? Sampson had your body, not mine. I would do better as the Pillsbury dough boy, or the Michelin man.” “I wasn’t joking.” Mike held up his hand before I could say anything. “You would make a great Sampson, c’mon! you’d look really hot in wrist cuffs, with chains dangling from them, a ripped tunic showing off that chest of yours, and tight shorts to empha‐ size your assets.” He looks at me, bouncing up and down barely

8 Bryan Teague containing his excitement. When I shake my head no, he adds in a more subdued tone, ”There’s always your pirate, again.” I nod my agreement as I continue looking in my closet. “You don’t really see many fat Sampsons. Fat pirates on the other hand have been known to exist.” Mike looks at me like I’m nuts, but doesn’t push. He ﬁnally wanders down to his room, allowing me to pull my pirate costume together.

* * * I’m sprawled on the couch watching television when Mike comes back down. He’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I half ex‐ pect him to start disappearing at any moment; instead, he reach‐ es for his drawing supplies. The man is a creative geyser. If it’s something creative, he can do it, and do it well. I keep catching him staring at me out of the corner of my eye. Mike’s drawing something while we watch TV and I have a sinking feeling it’s me. I groan inwardly. I don’t need to be re‐ minded, yet again, how ordinary I am. “You aren’t drawing me, are you?” I ask, dreading the answer. “Of course I am,” Mike answers. “You’ve always been cute, but you’re really hot, now. Can’t you see that?” Snorting, I reply, “If I was so hot, I would be having a date tonight instead of tagging along with my roommate to a party I wasn’t invited to.” Mike ﬁnishes his drawing, and looks at me nervously. “Want to see it?” he asks, his voice trembling, and cracking like an adolescent. When I nod, he hands me his sketch pad. I look at the image, and back at him. It’s like I’m looking at the best version of myself. I’m ﬂoored by this incredible sketch of me. “This is how you see me?” I ask, angry, that he’s secretly mak‐ ing fun of my weight. “I keep trying to tell you. You don’t realize how much you’ve

9 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories changed,” he says. I look at him, confused. “I... We... I need to get some aspirin and lay down. My head hurts.” I hide in my room until I hear him go out. I long to see my‐ self through Mike’s eyes. No matter how I try, I can’t see myself as anything other than that fat faggot kid. He’s the one that turn heads.

* * * The closer to the party it gets, the more I dread going. I con‐ sider canceling, but I’ve already given my word. So I put on my big boy pants and get dressed. The last thing I do is slip on my mask before looking in the mirror, that reﬂective bane of my exis‐ tence. I’m surprised, I almost don’t recognize the man staring at me in the mirror. He’s actually almost hot. I hear Mike heading down stairs, so know it’s high time I make an appearance. I build up my courage, open the door and slowly descend the stairs. Mike is standing in the living room dressed as Sampson. His face lights up when he sees me. “Wow you look great! You do pirate very well.” “Thanks, You do an awesome Sampson. The blond hair even works for you.” As we walk to the party, Mike casually puts his arm around my shoulders. I try to suppress the shudder of excitement that passes through me, but I can’t hide it completely. Mike pulls me closer. Apparently, he must think I’m cold. The party is in full swing when we arrive. There are all sorts of costumes, everything from zombies to murder victims on the gruesome side to French maids, drag queens and doctors. Every‐ one is in a mask. I recognize a few people and many of the Mike’s friends, but then again, he knows everyone. Mike leans close to me, and I can smell his musk. I’m thank‐ ful that he can’t see my reaction as I try to suppress the shudder that being close to him always causes in me. “Don’t say my name. From here on out, I’m Sampson, and you are ... Jack Sparrow. I

10 Bryan Teague think that rather suits you tonight.” “Oh please. There isn’t enough makeup in the world to make me look like Johnny Depp.” Mike looks at me and shakes his head. He steps back, looking at me with mischief in his eyes. “Now to win the bet. You will get kissed tonight!” He turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd before I can say anything to stop him. Not that I would ever admit that he’s the one I want to kiss. I grab a Coke, and ﬁnd a quiet corner where I can people watch. I chat with a few zombies that happen to be in my vicinity, but none of them hold my interest. I catch a glimpse of golden hair, and move to try to catch up. “Sampson!” I call out. But I guess Mike doesn’t hear me. Then I’m reminded of why I don’t go to parties as I run into this brick wall of a man, literally. He’s dressed as a brick wall. The only thing I can tell about him is that he has blue eyes, and he is strong enough to stop me in my tracks. “Oh my, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you.” The guy laughs in this two tone electronically modulated way, when I realize he’s using a voice synthesizer. “No problem. You didn’t knock any bricks loose. The children are safe.” He ﬂashes a grin at me showing perfect teeth. “That’s really cool! I like what you did with your voice.” Mike momentarily forgotten, I’m suddenly captivated by this man. “Let me guess, you are... Pink Floyd’s The Wall?” “Got it in one. I know you’re a pirate, anyone in particular?” he asks. Chuckling, I answer, “My roommate says Jack Sparrow. but I, no. Just no.” The wall leans in and whispers, “That’s ok, I prefer you to Jack Sparrow anyway.” We spend the evening people watching and chatting. It seems like he doesn’t know many people either, so we are left to our‐ selves. As the party starts thinning out, we wander outside to look at the moon. I point out several constellations to him when he puts a hand on mine, and with his other, turns my head toward him. “I’m more interested in the stars in your eyes,” he says.

11 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

Time stands still. I can’t hear anything but the roar of my heart beating in my ears as he leans in to kiss me. “I can’t.” I stop him as I realize that I am in love with Mike. And it wasn’t fair to this wonderful man. “I’m in love with some‐ one, and it’s not fair to you.” He whispers in my ear, “I’ve been in love with you since we first met, when you moved in two years ago. You couldn’t accept it then, but do you believe me now? I love you.” My heart skips a beat. “Mike? But you can have anyone you want!” “But I want you. Am I wrong, don’t you feel the same?” he looks at me with hurt showing in his eyes. “Ever since I first saw you. But you are so far out of my league.” Mike laughs softly. “It’s always been you who was out of mine.” We leave the party and go home, sleeping in the same bed for the first time. Mike wakes me the next morning with a kiss. “Now about that thirty-five dollars you owe me?” Laughing, I grab my wallet. “Well, technically, you didn’t kiss me until we got home and it was after midnight. But that’s still one bet I’m happy to lose.” Pulling money from my wallet, I count it out for him. “Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five.”

* * *

12 SLEEPING SICKNESS

“The United States announced today that it has closed its borders, following in the footsteps of Canada and Australia, in hopes of preventing the spread of the sleeping sickness pandemic that has struck every country in the world.” I turned down the TV as the talking head began enumerating the symptoms. Everyone was glued to their chosen news outlet, dreading the first reported incident of the sleeping sickness in Canada. To date, Canadian first responders were the only ones to fall to this plague. Unbidden, I remembered my final phone call from my hus‐ band. “I can’t come home like I promised I would.” I remem‐ bered how hollow and tired his voice sounded. I tried to give him a ray of hope that didn’t work. “I’ve been working with samples made available from the CCDR. We are close to a cure, I can feel it in my bones,” I said, babbling, trying to stem the tears I could feel running down my cheeks. “Don’t focus on a cure, focus on a way to stop the spread.” I had to grit my teeth when he said that, though it made me smile. He was always thinking of the needs of others. “Now you stop right there. Why can’t we work on both at the

13 Bryan Teague same time?” Silence. The line wasn’t dead, I could hear rustling coming from his side. Growing panicked, I called his name several times. “Who is this?” Oh God. It wasn’t his voice. “Where is my husband? I was just talking to him,” I reply struggling to keep my voice even.” “Oh. Dear. Let me fetch the doctor. I know she will want to speak with you,” the woman said. Before she set the phone down, I called out. “Please don’t. I’m a research scientist. He’s succumbed hasn’t he?” “Yes.” The memory shattered into a million pieces as the lump in my throat threatened to overwhelm me again, so many months later. Thankfully, something caught my eye, and I quickly turned the TV back up. The talking head was interviewing a scientist of some kind. “... suspended animation that we have been working on for long distance space travel”, the scientist said. “At least, with this we can prevent any more deaths, until we ﬁnd a cure.” I rolled my eyes. Great. Now instead of dead stiffs, we were going to have nearly dead stiffs. And still, someone had to take care of them. The scientist continued droning, “We have modi‐ ﬁed the pods to include an interface into the sleepers brain. We hope that when this interface becomes active, that the sleepers consciousness will be pulled into a virtual reality simulation.” The camera cut back to the talking head who looked pensive, and then concerned as he said, “All we can do is hope and pray that this last desperate gamble will preserve and ultimately bring back some of the greatest minds we have lost to this disease.” The talking head turned to stare at a different camera. “Stay tuned for advice on how to survive and protect yourself from the sleeping sickness.” I sighed, shaking my head. Even in the face of a potentially extinction level event, and the news mongers were still trying scare tactics for ratings.

14 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

* * * I was walking along the beach, barefoot, with my husband by my side. He had his arm draped across my shoulders, and my hand at his hip. He swung me around, bringing me into his arms, kissing me passionately. He laughed as he pulled back. “I don’t think I have ever kissed you with a beard before.” I smiled, looking into his blue eyes. “I was lazy. And then de‐ cided I liked the way my beard looked”, I said shrugging. A hideous sound intruded and the dream shattered into a million pieces as I woke up with tears streaming down my cheeks. Glaring at the clock, I realized it was still the middle of the night, but I also knew that I would not fall back asleep. Sighing I decided that I would be more use working than moping or mourning. I got up and headed to the lab. The latest European samples had arrived, and I was sure that a break‐ through was right around the corner.

* * * I stood in the center of my empty lab, resisting the urge to cackle like a mad scientist and smiling wistfully at the memory of my husband and those aweful B-movies. For a split second, I wondered how I had gotten to the lab, not remembering driving, or really, even dressing. Shaking my head, I wished again that ﬁnding the cure could be as easy as getting to the lab obviously had been. I was sure, now, there was a problem with the mapping of the DNA and RNA of the virus. So, instead of relying on what oth‐ ers had done, I decided to run my own mapping. Thanks to my husband’s codes still being active, I had access to the European Union’s CCDR equivelant computer banks, as well as those in the United States from the CDC and NIH as well as those of the CCDR. I took my time prepping slides from each continent. If I was going to start from scratch, I was going to make sure it was all truly my work.

15 Bryan Teague

While computers all over the world crunched the data from the DNA and RNA scans, I spent time reviewing the treatments that failed. Finally, I received notification that the mapping was complete. As I reviewed the information, I was surprised to find significant RNA differences in the sleeping sickness. The version from Africa was virulent enough, but it looked like we were deal‐ ing with a designer virus. This pandemic was intentional. My chest tightened, and my vision grew dark.

* * * I woke to the TV newscaster talking about the sleeping sick‐ ness pandemic. “The United States announced today that it has closed its borders, following in the footsteps of Canada and Aus‐ tralia, in hopes of preventing the spread of the sleeping sickness pandemic that has affected the majority of the world.” I frowned, as a feeling of Deja Vu settled over me. I jumped out of my recliner and sprinted out the door. When I arrived at the lab, the new European samples sat in the cold storage ready to be unpacked for additional testing. I quickly scanned through the other samples scratching my head. I paused, momentarily confused. There were no samples missing. I slowly reached out and took samples from each conti‐ nent and brought them back to my station. Placing them careful‐ ly in the holders, I began my work. It would take longer with out a computer. But, I was sure I could do it. I gathered the requisite chemicals and attempted the resequencing I could picture in my mind. It only took a few tries before I was successful. The new virus I created destroyed the sleeping sickness, but didn’t touch healthy tissue. * * *

16 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

I woke gasping for air. I tried to sit up, but found that I was too weak. The lights were to bright and hurt my eyes. “He’s awake.” I heard a man’s voice, but I couldn’t tell where it came from. A woman entered my ﬁeld of vision. She smiled. “Congratu‐ lations Doctor. You saved the human race. Well, you and the re‐ bellion. There’s someone who wanted to see you”, she said as she stepped aside. I burst out crying as my husband was wheeled next to my bed. He reached out, took my hand and whispered, “I told you, I always come home. This time thanks to you.” * * *

17 ON THE ROOFTOP

“Reports are coming in from across the city that someone has been breaking into houses through the chimney.” The newscaster turned to look at the grainy video showing a man in blue crawl‐ ing into the chimney of a rather large house. The last thing on the video was his hand coming back out of the chimney to grab a partially ﬁlled bag that rested next to the chimney.

“Wow, that is a terrifying video, especially this time of year!” The other newscaster, a bubbly blond man with distgustingly per‐ fect teeth ﬂashed a smile. “But, the good news is that if you need to protect yourself from this deviant, you are fully within your rights to shoot them.”

I rolled my eyes at how gun crazy this part of the country is. In most other places, a statement like that would cause an uproar, and protests galore. I was not going to succumb to gun fever, or fear.

I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard a clatter on my roof. So much for sleep! I dashed to the window, and threw it open, forgetting about the alarm system. The blaring horn an‐

18 Bryan Teague nounced to the world that someone was trying to break in. For‐ getting the noise on the roof, I raced downstairs running into the hottest man I have seen in ages. He was bent over studying the presents under my tree. His beard was snow white, his clothing was tight, showing off a well shaped ass, and a surprisingly large bulge in his pants. He carried just enough weight to make me salivate.

He stood, glanced at me, and smiled, his blue eyes sparkling in the ﬁrelight. He approached me slowly, his arms held out from his sides as if ready to hug me. I was not disappointed as he wrapped his strong arms around my chest. He leaned in giving me a kiss, the likes of which I had never before experienced.

He let go, and walked back to the ﬁreplace. He layed his hand upon my mantle, and before I knew it he vanished up the chimney.

I rushed to the tree, examining the presents, stunned that the number doubled from what I remembered. I walked to the man‐ tle, seeing a business card laying there.

Picking it up, I read it.

Call me you gorgeous man Nicklaus Kringle 907-555-5412 * * *

19 NOT EVEN A MOUSE

“Are you a man or a mouse?” The question hung on the air as I attempted to discern the real meaning of that question. Thankfully, I was saved from an‐ swering by my smart-alec brother. “Well technically, since a leopard can’t change his spots, I imagine that we can not change our fundamental DNA. So, I’m gonna have to go with mouse.” I curled my tail around my short snout, trying to prevent the laughter escaping that attempted to bubble up. My brother’s snippy humor was legendary in the house. I think it was the Mo‐ hawk, or possibly the earring he wore. I found it intriguing how a personality often manifested in outward expression. The teacher tapped her paw against the chalk board, glaring at Squee. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it!” Now it was my turn. “Well, if you would quit speaking in tropes and platitudes, you might actually teach us something.” The teacher’s ears lay ﬂat against her head, her nose twitch‐ ing and eyes narrowed as she held me in her gaze. I wondered if perhaps I crossed a line. The teacher sighed. “Very well. Since you are looking for pre‐ cise words. Only the brave mouse gets the cheese.”

20 Bryan Teague

I ducked me head as my brother once again opened his mouth. “Well, technically—“ The rest of what he was going to say was lost under the weight of her glare. “In the time I have been teaching, not even one mouse has been caught in the traps,” she said waspishly. Our ears shot up as the alert siren sounded. It was awfully kind of the humans to set an alert for when they returned to the house that we called home. We split up, each making a dash for a different part of the room to hide. “Hey hon, the traps haven’t been set off. It’s been three days. Are you sure you saw a mouse?” * * *

21 THE DARK BAKER

“God bless it!” I screamed, throwing the sampling cup across the room. Before it could strike the wall and shatter, I waved a hand nonchalantly. My husband would not have been happy about damaging the painting hanging there. The cup appeared back in my hand, still filled with a sweet viscous liquid that was supposed to taste like the finest chocolatiers of Belgium. I threw myself into the overstuffed chair next to the only window in the small room. I set the cup down, and picked up the tome sitting open on the side table. Once again, I read through the mystical words, and actions. I stood, and tucking the white book under my arm I strode to my work table. I swept away clutter so I could set the book down. Peering into the cauldron that sat in the center, I waved a hand in disgust. The residue of viscous liquid vanished. I read aloud the necessary ingredients while keeping an eye on how the they behaved. “Three cups of sugar, in a cauldron do.” I watched as a trail of sugar wound it’s way toward the cauldron. Score one for me! “Cocoa, touched by darkness, two-thirds of a single cup fall anew, into the cauldron, deep and blue.” I turned expectantly to my spice shelf as the cocoa flew so close, I ducked. Nodding, I whispered, “Now an eighth teaspoon of salt. Let’s not forget the full cup of milk. Into the cauldron, now change its hue.” Other than a splash in the face from the milk, everything was going exactly right. “And now to the heat I send my cauldron black. Stir and stir in roasting heat, till the mix‐ ture bubbles full.” This was the part I found boring, but I refused to speed things

22 Bryan Teague up. This time I would wait as the magical tome instructed. At least, stirring was easy. I flopped back in the chair as a spoon stirred the self heating and regulating witches Cauldron — yet another great product sold by the company I worked for — Dark Witches Brew and Curse affectionately called DWBC. I still won‐ dered what made them buy Broom Sticks, Cauldrons and Be‐ yond. Still, the employee discount was a nice one. Finally, the mixture was the right temperature. Turning off the heat, I uttered the next magic words. “Sweet butter, a quarter cup, along with vanilla bean, but not to much. Now is the time for cooling, that which will be brown and delicious.” I hoped those final words were correct. They were difficult to make out in the book. While the substance cooled, I busied myself tidying up my workspace. Though it was fun being dramatic and sweeping crap off my work table, picking everything up afterward, not so much. Fortunately, I was getting better at cleaning as I went a long. “Cakes are easier. Not so much waiting,” I said to myself. I pointed at the table, whispering an incantation. A buttered Pyrex dish appeared next to the cauldron. An alert signaled that my wait was over! Excited, I completed the spell. “And now at proper temperature’s time, with a virgin wooden spoon I stir and beat until your gloss is lost. Now out, out, of this fine cauldron, to your final place of rest.” I held my breath as the brown material slowly rose. This time, I didn’t have to run after the gooey mess trying to catch it. It drifted slowly toward the Pyrex dish. I watched as it filled the en‐ tire dish, almost to the top. “Yes,” I yelled, jumping in the air. Now all it needed was to cool. I resisted the urge to cool it quickly. The last time I tried that, all our food froze, and I got one hell of a lecture from my boyfriend, Cade. At least he understood my fascination with the sorcery of baking. It was such a nice change from my usual work. Being a rank and file dark witch was simply not what I envisioned when I pledged himself to the dark‐ ness. Now, I make potions most days. The management claims my powers just aren’t strong enough to progress. My ass! Serious‐

23 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories ly. I was the top producer for the last three quarters. My potions are never returned. And yet, I watched with envy as others at‐ tained their next ring, repeatedly.

* * * Instead of driving myself crazy wondering whether this mys‐ tical fudge would set, or turn into fifty-weight motor oil, I busied myself with cleaning. Ok, I waved a hand and watched as the dishes I used danced under the faucet, then found their way into our dishwasher. I still thought it was the single best invention that mundanes engineered. Satisfied with my cleaning, I retrieved the fudge, and set it in the kitchen. I was so happy it was hardening, I skipped down the hall to the bathroom to get a shower. I entered our en-suite, enjoying the spa like amenities with the double vanity. I caught my reflection in the mirror and smiled. The work I was doing to get in shape was noticeable. I was slowly inching my way from muffin top to dad bod. I wasn’t interested in becoming one of the muscle witches. But, losing the spare tire was important to me. I rubbed my hand through the shaggy blond hair on my head, and made a mental note to get a haircut. I stepped into the shower to clean off the failed batches of fudge that I tackled. I chuckled imagining Cade’s response to my failed fudge landing on the new white sofa in our formal living room. The water felt good as it slowly dissolved the sweet viscous fudge. By the time I was done, my internal clock screamed that I was running late for work. Mumbling a dressing spell, I envi‐ sioned my normal work clothes, then stepped through the mirage. I looked down at myself, satisfied that I didn’t forget any‐ thing. I now wore the uniform of the Dark Witches Brew and Curse, the largest and most prestigious of the coven corporations. I stopped by the kitchen to check on my creation. The fudge looked perfect! I grabbed a knife from the wall bar and cut my‐ self a piece.

24 Bryan Teague

One silky smooth bite later, my tastebuds died and went to hell. This fudge was perfect, velvety smooth chocolaty darkness melted in my mouth. It reminded me of summers I spent at the beach as a child, and the confectionary we visited almost every day. Smiling at the memory, I scrawled a note to Cade, in case he arrived home before me. Hi Honey, I finally got the spell to work! Enjoy the fruits of my labor. I’ll let you know if I have to work late. This might be the one to sub‐ mit for my status change. XO, Zander Laying the paper on top of the fudge, I left for the office. I made it to the next block before office dread encroached upon my awareness. It’s gnawing pain twisted my stomach. They an‐ nounced promotions today. Three times I’d been passed over. I feared today would be no different. The neon sign flashed DWBC Laboratories. Everyone else thought the sign was simply perfect. I thought it was gaudy. Summoning all the courage I could muster, I entered, decid‐ ing then and there what would happen if I didn’t get promoted this time. “Zander!” Chad, the security witch, called from his monitor‐ ing station near the elevators. “I didn’t think you were back on shift for another two days.” “Yea, Clarice cornered me last night. I was volun-told to come in today, something about her current favorite doing a cere‐ mony that requires him to be sequestered, performing a cleanse.” “Oh man, sucks to be you! Do you at least get a different day off ?” Chad asked, continuing to scan others as they entered the facility. My internal alarm rang, again. “Nope. And the overtime doesn’t nearly compensate for my lost personal day.” Shaking my head, I continued, “I gotta get to the potions lab, or she’ll dock my pay, and I need every penny right now. I’m saving for a new broom stick.”

25 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

“Have a blessed day,” Chad called as I continued down the hall toward the potion labs. I suppressed a shudder, but decided not to correct him. Secu‐ rity was the domain of the white witches, so of course he would say something like that. Still, my answer was automatic. “May the darkness shield you from light.” I joined the small group of people waiting for the elevator. It was a pretty eclectic group today, a few Apothecaries, a few Weavers, and a couple of administrators. “Sixth floor please,” I said as I got on the elevator. “Already been pushed.” Someone to the right of me said. We weren’t exactly sardines, but personal space was at a premium. I prayed silently that there weren’t any chatty witches as I scanned the rest of the occupants in the mirrored surface of the closing doors. The last thing I wanted to hear was gossip. “Excuse me.” A woman said as she tapped my shoulder. Turning half way around, a young woman with auburn hair and chocolate eyes smiled at me, her dazzling white teeth sparkling even in the sallow light of the elevator. “I’m Minerva Polygot, and oh my God, you’re Zander Cann- White!” The woman said excitedly, her voice quickly heading to‐ wards a level that only animals could hear. “Your potions layout is taught during orientation,” she gushed. That’s all I needed, a starry eyed kid with a crush on me. “It took me a long time to perfect my layout. It’s the secret to producing both quality and quantity,” I responded, attempting to sound as boring as I could. “Oh, and it’s nice to meet you.” Don’t ask any questions, or the rest of this ride would be miserable, I thought to myself. “This your first day as an Apothecary?” Dammit, now I’m going to have to do ‘elevator talk.’ “Oh heavens. I must sound like a starry-eyed child. No, I was moved over to curses at the end of last week. Specifically, my re‐ sponsibility is spoken and chanted curses.” She inhaled, pulling her shoulders back. “Having perfect pitch lends itself to that sort of casting.” I grunted my acknowledgement, almost afraid to ask her how

26 Bryan Teague long she’d worked for DWBC. Thankfully, I was saved by the bell, well, the elevator chime signaling my floor. I made my way out, relieved that small talk time was over. Now I had to contend with the disappointment of not being promoted, again. There was a note hanging on my cube. I pulled it off the monitor, and set my backpack in the chair. Zander, Please stop by after you get settled. Clarice Yea, that clinched it. That tinker-bell bitch got my promotion. I crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash, and headed to‐ ward my boss’ office. The closer I got, the slower I went. I knew what I wanted to say, but I would have to find a new job, and it’s easier to find a job when you have a job. My phone buzzed as I was about to knock on Joe’s door. This fudge is delicious! They have to approve this! My wonderful husband, always willing and able to support me. Relief washed over me, I knew exactly what I was going to do.

* * *

27 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

CHAPTER 2

I slipped the phone back in my pocket, straightened my back, and knocked on the door. “Come in,” A woman’s voice called. I opened the door, pok‐ ing my head into a cozy little office. Real curtains framed a large window that looked out on the witches park. Technically it was a city park, but one quarter of it was set aside, handled by the resi‐ dents to provide many of the ingredients for spells. The woman sat in high backed office chair behind a large an‐ tique mahogany desk. Clarice’s smile sent chills down my spine, Wavey auburn hair framed a china doll face with a smile never touched her sad green eyes. She gestured to the couch that next to the door. “Have a seat,” she said. I raised my hands. “I already met the newest member of the curse division.” Clarice came around the desk, and took me by the hand. “I thought for certain you were going to get the position. But, the administrators moved the position from cursed items to Audio.” “I guessed when I met tinker-bell on her way to her first day there.” Crossing my arms, I glared. “And, just when did I give my permission to have my potion setup taught to all incoming new hires?” “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clarice said, averting her eyes. Red spots flashed in front of my eyes, anger clawed at my throat. “How long?” I snarled, taking a menacing step toward her. I thrust my hand out, and raised it. Clarice flew against the wall and raised several inches off the floor. “How long, dammit?” “Put me down or you’re going to get fired,” Clarice respond‐

28 Bryan Teague ed calmly. “Tell me.” I growled, lowering her to the floor. “Since your first application for promotion. When admin saw your output and quality.” Clarice adjusted her shawl, and smoothed her dress. “I’m sorry, really I thought this was going to be your time.” She stepped toward me with a hand extended. “Peace?” This time, her smile did reach her eyes. I was tempted to ac‐ quiesce. All I had to do was shake her hand. Instead, I flopped in the chair by her desk, and folded my arms across my chest. “Then at the very least, I should receive compensation for the use of my potions setup.” Clarice leaned against her desk, and looked down at me with pity? Shit. What did I step in this time? “I’m sorry to hear you say that Zander. Since you developed the setup while working for DWBC, technically it’s ours.” “But I’m not in the R&D section,” I shot back. “Doesn’t matter,” Clarice shrugged. “Talk to a lawyer. They’ll say the same thing.” I took a deep breath, and shocked myself. “Fine, I quit!” * * * “You should have seen her face,” I crowed with glee. We sat in a private booth at the local Witchery. It wasn’t great food, but it was at least consistently good. The decor wasn’t bad either. This one was fifties high life. The time of glitz and glamour for witches everywhere. Cade layed his hand on top of mine. “Oh, Zander! I can’t be‐ lieve you finally did it.” He grinned at me impishly. “And with such flair too.” He swirled a hand in the air. The waiter came over. “Have you decided?” Cade and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. Before the waiter stormed off, I stopped him. “Sorry, we weren’t laughing at you. I quit my job today. So, that ship sailed.” I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes as the waiter

29 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories looked at me dumbly. “You know, I decided what I wanted? I. Quit. My job?” The waiter grimaced. “Ah. Ok. So, have you decided, on food?” Cade came to someone’s rescue. I’m still not sure if it was mine or the waiter’s. “Why yes we have decided on that too. I’m gonna have the grilled chicken with witch’s greens and a Dark’s Chardonnay.” He laid a hand on my arm, smiling at me, though it felt more like baring his teeth. “Zander, here, will have the Ravioli, side salad and garlic bread.” This time he turned his dazzling smile on the waiter, placing one hand on the man’s shoulder as he extended the other. As they shook hands, Cade said, “And perhaps a bit of priva‐ cy?” The waiter nodded, leaving our little alcove. Cade wrapped his arms around me, nuzzling my ear. The stubble on his chin just grazed my neck. I arched my neck, lean‐ ing into him. The entire day overtook me as I stared into Cade’s eyes. “What did I do? I just quit my job.” I gulped in air and clutched at my collar. “I haven’t even applied to change magical castes! What happens if they say no? DBWC is the only work in town for someone like me!” Cade took my hands in his. “Hey,” he said tapping my hand. “You quit to stand up for yourself, and to go after your dream.” He studied me, perhaps study is to strong of a word. He ... observed me. Cade’s rapt attention made me blush after a minute. Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore. “What?” I cried. Cade shifted in his seat so he faced me. His brown hair fell in his blue eyes. Instinctively I reached to brush the hair away. Cade grabbed my hand. “I can’t think of a better way to launch your new business than by catering a wedding.” He grinned at me while I looked at him, well frankly, like he was nuts. “Well, to be more precise.” He cleared his throat, push‐ ing the table away from us. He knelt and pulled a ring out. “Catering our wedding?” Cade cringed back for a moment. “As

30 Bryan Teague in, will you marry me?” I stared at him in shock. My mouth hung open, my mind went blank. “Uhhh.” Of course, that’s me. Go for the eloquent response. Cade grinned. “I believe the answer is yes?” He swallowed hard, a bead of sweat trickled down his temple. “Yes! Yes I will marry you,” I exclaimed. He slid a ring on my finger, and I pulled him up. And then my brain clicked. “I’m catering my own wedding? Isn’t that, I don’t know, tacky?” I asked. “It’s showing off your skills. You’ve catered our dinner parties for years.” Ok, slow on the uptake. My brain clicked, again. “Oh! I said yes. We’re getting married!” “Wonderful, congratulations,” the waiter said, entering our alcove with our dinner selections. “Thank you,” I said as the waiter set my ravioli, salad and garlic bread down. “This looks delicious.” “Yes, thank you,” Cade said cheerfully as he cut a bite of chicken and popped it in his mouth. “Very good. If you need anything further, simply ring this bell and ask. I will be made instantly aware of your request.” The waiter extended a hand, producing a simple hand bell out of the air. He handed it to Cade before sashaying out of our alcove. We wiled away the night talking about the wedding. So many questions to work out, I knew it would get overwhelming. By the time we left the restaurant, not only had we planned our wedding, but solved the issues of poverty and hunger for the world, and laid the groundwork for the first magical hybrid vehi‐ cle. * * * Did I mention that Dark’s makes an excellent wine? I woke up feeling like someone turned my brain inside out and soaked it in bleach. Yes, Dark’s makes an excellent wine. I stumbled into the kitchen, and saw our notes, first started at

31 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories the restaurant, and later finished here, along with another two bottles of wine. No wonder my head hurt, and my mouth tasted like camel ass. The ring on my finger glinted in the afternoon light. I studied it, smiling as the facets caught the light sparkling and casting rainbows. Warmth suffused me, radiating out from my chest. I was itching to continue, but first my world famous hangover cure. Well, it was mine. But DWBC owned that, along with my potions setup. Quickly, I whipped up two glasses, gulping one down and carrying one back to the bedroom. Our bedroom was decorated in a combination of Asian and Native American art, and our combined collection of stuffed ani‐ mals. Our comforter was decorated with tree of life legends, Norse, Turkic and Chinese. Cade was under the Chinese tree, still sawing logs. “Good morning, husband to be.” I said softly, rubbing the arm that was outside the blanket. “Mmnnngh.” Cade’s wakeup hangover grunts were always scintillating conversation. “Sit up, I have something that will make you feel better.” Cade sat up slowly, gripping his head with both hands. “Ugh. Remind me again why we drink?” Instead of feeding into his pity this morning, I placed the glass in his hand. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.” “How is it that you’re functional and cheery this morning, and I feel like Godzilla ravaged me last night?” Grinning impishly, I teased, “Because I don’t get hangovers. Nah. Seriously, I had my hangover cure in the kitchen. Someone needed to maintain a pleasant personality this morning.” Cade groaned and held out his hand groping blindly for the magical elixir. I placed the glass in his hand. His hand trembled as he brought the glass to his lips and sipped. “Ugh! Can’t you make this taste any better?” Cade smirked over the top of his glass before he finished the drink I gave him. The transformation was immediate. He straightened up, the pallor of his skin brightened and the clouds cleared from his eyes

32 Bryan Teague making them blue instead of stormy gray. He sighed, leaning his head against the headboard. “I could, yes,” I said as I gathered our clothing strewn all over the bedroom last night and deposited them in the dirty clothes hamper in our large dual access walk-in closet. Cade crawled out of bed, throwing a robe on against the morning chill. He asked, “Our, ahem, planning last night. Any of it ... usable?” “Let’s find out together,” I said, as we left the bedroom. “What do you want for breakfast?” “The usual, unless you want to make something special?” Grinning like a giddy school boy, I called out, “Eggs Floren‐ tine, Toast and Orange juice.” With one hand I pointed to the ‘fridge, and with the other I pointed to the stove. “Wow, you don’t have to magic the recipes anymore? You just call out what you want and poof it’s done?” Cade stared wide- eyed at me. “Not quite, but close,” I said watching the ingredients assem‐ ble themselves. “Did you want bacon too?” Cade stretched, his robe falling open to show the thick brown fur that grew on his chest and belly. “I think so. Dinner was good, but I’m feeling pretty empty this morning.” While breakfast cooked, we looked through the voluminous notes with titles like “How to solve the financial crisis” and “Achieving World Peace.” We laughed at the alcohol driven ab‐ surd ideas that flowed. Finally, we came to the notes for “Wed‐ ding Plan.” “Apparently we weren’t that drunk when we made these notes.” Cade said with a chuckle. “Let’s see.” He took the three pages of notes, and stuck them on a clipboard. “It looks like we have the major items already mapped.” After eliminating the more ... far fetched ideas, we liked the general plan. It would be a wedding in the park during the Ver‐ nal equinox. We had a guest list of sorts already drawn up - even if it was in broad strokes, all of our friends, my family, and his family.

33 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

Excited, Cade found the list of heavy hors-d’oeuvres we wanted. After reviewing the list, I ﬁgured we really wouldn’t need to serve a dinner. We added Swedish meatballs and toasted pep‐ peroni, then removed one of the potsticker options. “I’ll handle the food, but if I’m expected to cook, then you’re going to have to handle everything else,” I said.

* * * The next three months were a whirlwind of activity. The wedding RSVPs were all returned within the first week after we dropped the invitations in the mail. Ecstatic to have a good head count, my job became infinitely easier. I was able to hire some kitchen help from our savings. Again the gods smiled upon me. I found an excellent banquet manager named Jeffrey. Since I would be otherwise occupied, he assem‐ bled a breathtaking group of servers, more like Adonises and Aphrodites really. Before I knew it, our wedding day was upon us, and every‐ thing was falling in place — even the weather! The warming spring brought clear skies, and a crisp evening under a full moon. The tables were set up with white linen cloths. The chafing dishes gleamed in the setting sun. The ceremony started as the first fireflies flashed. The priest‐ ess pronounced us married, and we leaned in to share a kiss. I felt energy well up within me, and intermingle with Cades. We received several compliments on the fireworks that went off as we kissed. These confused me, because I didn’t think we planned for those, but figured it must have been Cade who arranged for those. The food was a hit! I was on cloud nine. I saw Jeffrey handing cards to several people, but didn’t think anything of it, at the time. * * * The honeymoon flew by. Before I knew it, we were home

34 Bryan Teague again. I played Mrs. Bumstead for my new husband. I stood at the door, holding his lunch and briefcase, our little Yorkie Moose, sitting patiently by my side. Cade dashed down the hallway pulling on his coat, and skidded to a stop in front of me. He pat‐ ted Moose on the head and gave me a kiss that brought back the passion of our honeymoon. Cade grinned at me. “I will see you, tonight,” he whispered in my ear. And then I was alone. I wandered through the house, until I realized I was in our home office. Cade’s side was littered with trophies and awards. He was an athlete, and competed in every‐ thing. His desk was neat. Everything laid out precisely. It was a big contrast to my chaos filing system. It was all organized in piles, right at my fingertips. I sat down and checked my email. I couldn’t believe what I saw. Four offers to bid on catering. I grabbed my phone, texting Cade, first, then calling Jeffrey to come over. While I waited for him, I worked on the menus for each of the events. I was trying to decide between Mousse, or something lighter like an angel food cake topped strawberry compote when the doorbell rang. “Come in, Jeffrey,” I called. “It’s open.” “You know, that’s really not safe,” Jeffrey scolded as he sashayed into the office wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a ma‐ roon silk shirt. “I could be here to strangle you, and not in the way you like. Mmmmkay?” “Fine, fine,” I said, waving his words away. “Strangle me next time. Right now we have too much work to do.” “Oh good. The cards worked.” Jeffrey shoved a piece of pa‐ per in front of my face. “Our first office expense. This is the re‐ ceipt of the cards I had printed for your catering business.” I took the paper from him, not sure what to say. I looked from the paper back to Jeffrey as he said, “And here’s a sample for you.” He held out a card. “Cultured Palette Catering,” I said reading the card. “Very

35 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories nice.” I nodded to Cade’s chair. “Take a seat, and lets talk about our business.” This was not what I was expecting to do on my first day back. But, no time like the present, and we did have bids to put togeth‐ er. Jeffrey pulled out another paper, handing it to me with a flourish that ended in his graceful seat in Cade’s chair. I raised an eyebrow as I read the division of duties, that in‐ cluded some nice checks for each other without leaving us in a deadlock over disagreements. “I see you’ve put a lot of thought in to this already.” “My, yes. Yes I have put a great deal of thought into this,” he said leaning forward. “I’ve looked for a long time for someone like you. I have the connections. What I needed was a natural chef. Why don’t we give it a shot?” He stuck out his hand. “What have you got to lose?” Thunder cracked as we shook hands. Large drops of water splashed against the window panes. The sound soothed my jan‐ gled nerves. We spent the rest of the day assembling the bids. As I hit send on the last of the bids, Jeffrey stood and stretched. “It’s been a long afternoon,” he said, grabbing his coat. “Looks like the rain’s let up, so I’m out. Let me know when our first bid is accepted.” Startled, I spun around. I grabbed Jeffrey’s arm, staring up at him. “You’re serious. You really think we’re gonna win one of these? I mean, we’ve never done this.” Jeffrey pursed his lips as he looked down his nose at me. “Of course we have darling. Or don’t you remember the flawless affair that was your wedding?” Jeffrey grinned as my brain finally put everything together. He patted my hand reassuringly. “After all, what better advertising is there than a wedding perfectly executed.” He bowed with a flourish, and walked out the door. “As I said, dear. Do let me know when our first bid is accepted.” I shook my head in disbelief. This never happened to me. I grabbed the contract that Jeffrey conveniently had, scanned it and sent it off to my brother. He was the black sheep of the fami‐

36 Bryan Teague ly, being a lawyer instead of a dark witch.

* * * I closed the oven door when Cade poked his head into the kitchen to let me know he was home. Thankfully, he waited to say anything until after the Chicken Cordon Bleu was safely in the oven before he made me jump in surprise. I threw my arms around his waist and leaned in for a kiss. “How was your day?” “Not bad,” Cade said. “The potions division is in a tizzy over the fact that you quit. Something about having to update the training or some such. I’m glad you’re out of there!” He hugged me, and then broke free of our embrace. “I’m gonna go change, and then is there anything I can help with for dinner?” He asked, knowing full well I would say no. “No. All that’s left is to set the table. The wine is already breathing.” I took Cade by the shoulders, turned him around and pushed him out of the kitchen. “Go get comfortable. I’ll join you in the living room with wine.” Cade walked down the hall toward our bedroom while I re‐ turned to the kitchen to get two glasses of wine. Upon entering our living room, I went around the earth-tone sectional, set our wine down, and ﬂipped on the news. Cade came out of the bedroom wearing his house pants, and no shirt. He sat next to me with a sigh, and grabbed his wine. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He kept glancing over at me expectantly. Talk about tough to keep a straight face! Final‐ ly he turned in his seat to face me. “Ok, out with it. You look like the proverbial cat who ate the canary.” I took a deep breath and told him about my day, and all the surprises it held. By the time I ﬁnished, Cade’s smile reached from ear to ear. “I told you that you were that good! And score one for Jeffrey making business cards for our wedding.” Cade winked at me and

37 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories continued, “As the ofﬁcial taster for all of your dishes, I can see I’m going to need to double my workouts to keep myself in the shape you have come to enjoy!” A timer sounded from the kitchen. “Well, tonight’s recipe is a new one. It’s one of the main cour‐ ses for a wedding on which, Cultured Palette Catering placed a bid,” I said as we walked into the kitchen to silence the timer.

* * *

38 Bryan Teague

CHAPTER 3

A fabulous dinner and three anxiety ridden days later, I re‐ ceived our first acceptance! I called Jeffrey to tell him the good news. Once I knew his schedule, I called the happy couple. I was totally thrilled to be catering Don and Julia’s wedding. After all, I set them up in the first place. We made plans to meet at Espresso Yo’self, an adorable coffee shop close by. Plans made, I texted Cade the good news. I arrived early, walking in the front door, scanning the various seating areas for Don, Julia or Jeffrey. By the time I got to the counter, I knew I was the first to arrive. A young man with a bit of scruff, deep brown eyes and a buzz cut greeted me cheerfully. “Welcome to Espresso Yo’self. What’s your poison?” “Hi Luke,” I responded, reading his name tag. “Let me get two lattes, one with almond milk, and two mochas. One with cream and the other with soy, please.” “Right away,” Luke said cheerfully. “Your name?” “Zander. Actually make it Cultured Palette Catering.” Might as well get some free advertising when they called my name I rea‐ soned. “Very good Zander. Your drinks will be up in flash.” Turning away from the counter, I scoped out a nice semi-pri‐ vate meeting area. The only thing it needed was bussing. So, while I waited for the coffee, I cleaned the table off then sat fac‐ ing the front of the store. “Cultured Palette Catering, your drinks are ready.” A woman’s voice cut through the murmur of conversation. I noted several heads turn to watch as I picked up the four drinks and re‐

39 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories turned to my seat. Jeffrey, Don and Julia came in together. I waved to get their attention. “Don! Julia! So good to see you.” I stood, clasped Don’s hand and hugged, slapping each other on the back. I kissed Julia on the cheek and shook Jeffrey’s hand. “Thanks for agreeing to take this job,” Don said taking a sip of his latte. “You remembered!” he exclaimed. “I love almond milk in my latte. I knew we made the right decision with you!” I smiled at Don. “We are so happy that you chose CPC to cater your wedding.” I pulled out our suggested menu to review it with them. Before I could speak, Jeffrey took over. “For your wedding re‐ ception, we wanted to do something different. Instead of appetiz‐ ers served at tables, how does tray service sound for hors d’ouvres? That way, it will give your guests some time to mingle before the meal is served.” Julia clapped her hands. “Oh I love that idea. Your wedding was so elegant with the waitstaff wearing white gloves carrying those silver trays, Zander. I wasn’t sure if that would work since we’re having a sit down dinner.” I looked at Jeffrey, who nodded at me this time. “Well, I think it will work quite well. People will be able to ﬁnd their dinner seats, but not feel obligated to stay until we serve the meal. It would give everyone another chance to mingle.” We ﬁnalized the menu, and number of servers. They provid‐ ed us with their contact at the city Botanical Garden. “I think that’s all we need. With the changes to the menu, I need to double check, but I believe that the price will stay the same.” “Perfect,” Don said. “We’ll write you a check for the deposit right now.” He pulled out a checkbook, and quickly scrawled out the deposit. “Here is a copy of our contract and deliverables.” Jeffrey handed them a Manila folder. Please sign and date one copy of the contract, and return it to us in the next few days.” We hugged all the way around, then Jeffrey and I headed

40 Bryan Teague back to my house. I stepped into the cool night air. The stars were shining, and a full moon rose. The light cast deep shadows. These I avoided. I saw too many people maimed, when I was growing up to even go near a shadow. Too many delightfully evil creatures hid in those shadows, many of them former pets that grew to large or power‐ ful. “We’re walking?” Jeffrey looked surprised. “But it’s night time.” He drew close to me as we passed out of the light of a streetlight. “It’s when they feed,” he hissed in my ear. The wind stirred fallen leaves causing them to swirl rising in the air. Jeffrey clutch my arm. I cast a light spell, chasing the darkness back. “It’s a nice night, Jeffrey.” He sighed, pulling my arm as he slowed to a stop. “I’m not a witch,” he whispered so softly, I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly. “What do you mean?” I asked. Witches kept themselves very well hidden. It was easier now that technology was catching up with magic, again. “Well, my family’s magic has never been strong. We weren’t much stronger than hedge witches really. It was our herbal med‐ ical knowledge that included us in the obscurity spell.” He looked at me wide eyed and drew back as if he expected me to shun him at any moment. I took both his hands in mine, and looked him in the eye. “It wouldn’t matter if you were from a human family. You have witch’s sight, you aren’t affected by our protections.” I took a breath to continue when my magical light did some‐ thing it wasn’t supposed to, it flickered. Just a tiny flare of light. Something was trying to coerce my spell. “See the flicker? Right now, we need to get indoors. My house is close, but we need to keep moving.” I dragged Jeffrey along behind me as I sprinted for safety. Once inside the gate, the house protections engaged. I glanced back to see a winged ser‐ pent bounce off the house protections. It flicked its tongue, tast‐ ing the shield magic, before darting off after easier prey. In the relative safety of the court yard, I stopped to catch my

41 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories breath. When I was able to speak again, I asked, “How do you survive in a magical world?” A pained look crossed Jeffrey’s face, only to be replaced in the blink of an eye with a mournful look that matched his sorrowful eyes. I felt like I was seeing him for the ﬁrst time, though we knew each other for several months now. “It’s not easy, but I have two things going for me. I’m a master at slight of hand, and most of the greater healing spells come from soul magic. Even the hu‐ mans have that.” Jeffrey shrugged, continuing, “It just takes me longer to do things.” “It doesn’t matter. To me, you are an amazing wizard. And I’m honored to be in business with you,” I said giddy with excite‐ ment, hugging him. “Let’s go in. I’ll summon a car once we ﬁnal‐ ize this work.” “Deal,” Jeffrey said, already walking toward the door. I sighed and trotted after him. That was both the good and the bad of our integrated security spells. Anyone who passed through the shield with us had access until they exited our property. Oh sure, we could lock the place down, but then someone would have to escort guests anywhere. I set foot in the foyer, and I knew Cade was home. I clapped Jeffrey on the shoulder. “You, my friend are in for a treat. I’m not the only one who can cook!” I hung up my jacket, then took Jeffrey’s and did the same. I led the way to the kitchen. Though the way Jeffrey sniffed the air, I was convinced he could have found it himself. The kitchen is what sold this place for me. I drooled over the professional twelve burner range with a wok station. One large oven under the range, and two more wall ovens sat next to the range. All of it was under a burnished bronze hood that pulled the heat out of the kitchen when it was turned on full. Cade leaned against our center waterfall marble island. A chandelier of pots and pans hung over the island, in easy reach of the stove and sink. The refrigerator sat on the opposite side of the island. I placed my spice rack between the refrigerator and the pantry. That way I wasn’t doing laps around the island as I

42 Bryan Teague pulled out spices and ingredients when I prepared to cook. I sti‐ fled a laugh when I saw Cade, though. Standing like that, he re‐ minded me of a bad porn plot! Except he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans under his apron. I did my best to ignore the thought that with a simple wave of my hand this could seem more like that porn plot. “I figured you might be hungry, so I fixed dinner tonight,” Cade said, flashing his megawatt smile. “I assume you’re staying for dinner, Jeffrey?” Jeffrey glanced at me and then at Cade. “I—“ “Of course he’ll stay,” I said as I gave Jeffrey a push. “It smells great!” Cade chuckled. “Have you seen his trick?” He asked Jeffrey, gesturing towards me. “He can tell you everything that’s current‐ ly cooking just by sniffing the air. It’s truly amazing.” Jeffrey glanced at me with an eyebrow raised. “Really? What’s for dinner, Zander?” Blushing, I sniffed the air. “Baked macaroni and cheese, and chicken stuffed with a wild rice.” I sniffed again. “And a green salad with grated zucchini and, is that arugula?” Cade nodded. “The salads are chilling in the fridge. Can you get them while I set dinner on the table?” We grabbed the salads, and headed to the dining room. The round table was set for three. Cade had set the table using our pride napkins and napkin rings that still reminded me of cock‐ rings. Wine chilled in a bucket next to Cade’s chair. Jeffrey and I took our seats, as Cade came in and set the chicken and macaroni down with a flourish. “Please hand me your plates,” he said, extending his hand to Jeffrey. When it was my turn, I handed him mine, saying, “Not to much mac and cheese for me, please. I can barely fit in my jeans now!” Cade flashed one of his jungle predator grins at me as he dumped a large scoop on my plate. “Then we will just have to burn those calories off, after Jeffrey goes home.” As soon as Jeffrey noticed the blush climbing up my neck, he

43 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories got into the act. “And I’m happy to turn up the heat in the kitchen with you,” he said waggling his eyebrows at me sugges‐ tively. My face was radiating heat as I accepted my plate from Cade. My mind raced trying to ﬁnd a suitable retort that might have a hope of making either of them blush. As was par for my social quips, I came up empty. “Sounds like fun to me,” I said praying my blush would subside sometime before dinner ended. The meal was superb, and the conversation light. Jeffrey and I talked about the proposals, and Cade told us about his day. After a wonderful dinner, Cade shooed us toward the ofﬁce saying that he would clean up.

* * * I was the happiest I could ever remember being. I was doing what I loved, working with an amazing business partner and married to the man of my dreams. I was in the middle of creat‐ ing a meal that Don and Julia’s guests would never forget. Jeffrey was handling the stafﬁng, and coordinating the rest. In a rare moment of quiet, I was able to answer my phone when it rang. “Just what in the heaven do you think you’re doing magical catering? Dark witches can’t do that. There’s the curse,” my mother said. “And good morning to you too, Mom,” I said, cheerfully. I was not going to let her rain on my good mood. It was her fa‐ vorite activity. It’s one of the reasons Cade and I bought the Blinders Security Package for the house. We discovered my mother was spying on us with her crystal ball. No shit, a crystal ball. She totally got peeved when I asked if she was planning on growing a wart on her nose. “Zander, I’m being serious. You could kill someone.” “Where were you when I catered my own wedding? Why didn’t you say anything then?”

44 Bryan Teague

“Your event was safe because of true love.” My entire world came to a halt. There were any number of different things I expected to hear come out of my mother’s mouth. That sentence was not one of them. At least not about me. Groping for something to say, I went for the highly intelligent, “Uhhhhhh.” “Honestly, Zan, yes. You and Cade have true love, and that’s the only thing that saved your guests from death.” “You might have mentioned this sooner?” I groaned praying that Don and Julia had true love, too. “Well, since you could tell, and all, how? I mean, how did you know-“ “How did I know you and Cade had true love,” she chortled. I could almost see her shaking her gray head, a sly grin on her face. “You kids are all alike. You never take the time to see the signs.” It was my turn to chuckle. “What do you need?” “Who me?” She asked. “Can’t a mother call her son to let him know that he is potentially committing mass murder?” “Ya’ know, I’m just spit ballin’ here, but you could always let me know how to make sure I don’t?” “Yes, I could.” Mom said. “What plague is bothering you this time?” I asked, realizing what she actually wanted. “Oh some annoying mud children with a ouija board keep disturbing my sleep. I need a protection potion.” “That’s easy. I have all the ingredients.” I took a deep breath. “Now tell me.” And my mother laughed. And laughed. “What’s so funny, Mom?” I asked. “I already told you the answer, Zan,” she gasped between laughs. “It’s true love’s kiss! Gotta go! Bye.” “But, Mom! Don’t,” I said into a dead line. She gave me the answer, or at least she thought she did. That much was obvious. I chuckled at her antiquated notion of true love’s kiss before dis‐ carding it. Everyone knew true love was a fairytale. I wondered if she was trying to scare me into going back to DWBC.

45 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

I tried to put it out of my mind, and focus on making the but‐ ter cream icing for the wedding cake. After the third time getting the mixture wrong I blasted the bowl with a bolt of raw energy cursing loudly. And that made my mind up. I had to know if she was screwing with me.

* * * I left the kitchen, headed for the office. I stopped in my work room long enough to get my scrying mirror. I didn’t have time to do this, but I also didn’t want to go to jail either. At least I could keep an eye on what was happening in the kitchen while I investi‐ gated my mother’s claim. I set the mirror up and cast the spell. The first place I figured I would check was the National Dark Witch’s Council website. They were the authority on dark witches, so it only made sense that I should be able to find something there. But no. Not a word about magical catering. Though interestingly enough, I did find a reference to the one thing that could break any curse or binding, true love’s kiss. I was about to use the magical Spoogle search en‐ gine to look it up it when I saw the cakes were done. Sighing, I trotted back to the kitchen. Yea, we weren’t terribly original in our naming. But then again, neither was a certain author after they were exiled from our world but I won’t bother to mention their name here. There was still so much to do. The cakes cooled on their racks, the hors d’ouvres were laid out and needed to be racked for transport and the main meal was coming together nicely. “Oh honey, I can see you have been over stressed. I told you to hire a souschef,” Jeffrey said startling me. He dusted flour off my shirt. “I can take over from here. My boys and girls will be here in a few minutes. We can finish getting everything ready to travel. The van will be loaded before you get back.” I leaned against the counter and folded my arms. “Back? From where?”

46 Bryan Teague

“Why from your shower, of course. One, you have a wedding to attend. But, even if you didn’t,” Jeffrey said, pointing down the hall. “You must be presentable when you wheel the wedding cake out. Now go! We leave in twenty minutes.” He shooed me out and down the hallway. I wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to spoogle something that I had always thought was a myth. Far from being a myth, true love was just something that was extremely rare, but hap‐ pened in clusters. After reading what little there was on true love’s kiss, I checked for anything on dark magic and food preparation, or catering. That’s me, going with the priorities. But, it was a relief to know that there weren’t any prohibitions of warnings.

* * * The wedding, as they usually are was beautiful. Julia was stunning, and Don looked magnificent in his top hat and tail. Lit‐ erally. The prehensile tail was a side effect of his principle gift. I watched with both sights as they kissed. I still wasn’t sure I be‐ lieved her, but there was more to believe than not. There was no flare— by my mother’s theory this wedding wasn’t safe. The cir‐ cle was sealed so I couldn’t slip away, but I could send an elec‐ tronic signal. I dashed off a quick message to Jeffrey and one to Cade. The watchtowers bid their guardians thanks and releasing the sacred space. While the gathered energy was released to the uni‐ verse, the sky lit up in bursts of fireworks. An aisle opened lead‐ ing to the reception. The newlyweds sauntered down the lane, while I darted in a parallel path, dodging guests to the make-shift kitchens.

47 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

* * * Cade and Jeffrey were outside the trailer, leaning over a table. As I approached, they straightened. “Your mother’s correct, Zan. We can’t serve this food,” Jeffrey said as he stepped aside to show a dead rat and one of the thousands of canapés. “She said that we had true love,” I said grabbing Cade’s arm, and pulling him to me. “Our kiss stopped it once, maybe it will do it again?” I loved kissing Cade. Every time we kissed, it took my breath away. The sparks that pass between us as our tongues dance can get me going like nothing else can. I don’t know if it was the stress of the moment, the murderous canapés or what, but on a scale of one to orgasmic, this one was meh. We parted, and I turned to Jeffrey. “I don’t think it worked, but try again.” They watched hopefully as a new rat sat happily eating an‐ other of my canapés. Jeffrey couldn’t have done a festive cracker, this time it was a spicy prawn. At least I knew the rat’s last meal was a good one. “Now what?” Cade asked. “I. Don’t know,” I said hanging my head. I felt stupid. This was all my fault. Who knew that dark witches couldn’t do cater‐ ing? I mean, besides my mother, who apparently was right even in my own thoughts, which was disturbing on an entirely differ‐ ent level. And why did I keep hearing my mother’s voice repeat‐ ing true love’s kiss broke the curse? I mean, my own mind was starting to creep me out on top of everything else. The guests were starting to drift into the reception area. Don and Julia would be a few more minutes. I ﬁgured that gave us ap‐ proximately ten minutes to ﬁgure out how to feed a hundred peo‐ ple tray service hors d’ouvres, a sit down meal and a seven layer cake, break a millennia old curse, or, ya’ know, kill ‘em all.

48 Bryan Teague

* * * Cade, Jeffrey and I stood staring at each other. Cade leaned against the prep counter, his shoulders slumped, his head hang‐ ing in defeat. Jeffrey frowned, pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back. While I stood at the entrance leaning against the door frame. “So, how does one go about giving true love’s kiss to a business?” I asked, half joking. Jeffrey stopped pacing and swung around. Cade looked up hopefully at the sound of my voice. “No, really, when I was work‐ ing the magic to create all of this.” I swung my arm around at the food. “And thinking about both of you and about today with Don and Julia, I was the happiest I have ever been. This is my true love. It’s my passion.” By the time I finished speaking, Jeffrey and Cade were both staring at me wide eyed. When I glanced out the door, I noticed that several wait staff gathered, and were also staring at me. “What?” I cried. “You were glowing,” Jeffrey said. “Yea,” Cade said nodding in agreement. “It reminded me of, well, us actually.” I glanced at my watch, impatiently. “While these observations are good, we’re down to five minutes until mass murder. What about destroying the food?” I asked, taking over the pacing back and forth from Jeffrey. Jeffrey shook his head. “We tried that. Fire, ice, tornado, knocking the trays over. None of it worked. Whoever put this curse together did a great job eliminating any way to prevent cat‐ astrophe.” “This is nuts,” I said. I crossed my forearms infront of me, holding my middle two fingers curled in toward my palms. “Mother come here,” I growled, as I swung my arms out, my hands flowing in a graceful arc. When they touched, a light flashed, and my mother, wearing a summer dress, stood in front of me. She had selected a strand of pearls and the accompanying pearl earrings to complete her look. Looking her up and down, I said, “Really, Mom. If you want‐

49 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories ed to come to the wedding, you could have said something.” She had the audacity to try and feign innocence. “What this old thing?” Fortunately, Cade saved me from having to respond to that. “Don’t even try it, Janet. We have exactly four minutes before my husband commits mass murder, because you didn’t warn him. Which, in case you forgot, mitigates his responsibility, and makes you an accessory.” Janet spun around shaking her finger at Cade. “I most cer‐ tainly did warn him. I called him.” “You called me today! Today, Ma. And you made it sound like it was a dark witch covenant!” I sneered. “I wasted valuable time. And when I couldn’t find anything, I thought you were jok‐ ing! I’m glad I asked Jeffrey to test the food.” I casually tossed a fireball at a rack of canapés. “And since we can’t destroy the food, how do we break the curse?” “Oh dear. Kissing your husband didn’t fix it this time?” Janet asked, her brows knitting together as she frowned. “Obviously not. Mom, why are we cursed?” “The story predates this world, and our journey here. There was a time when magic was neither light nor dark, it just was. Our family toiled in relative obscurity. We took our gifts seriously and were good stewards of those in our care.” Janet shifted. She mumbled a few words and a stool appeared. Sighing, she sat. “That’s better. Anyway, a call went out for a magical gather‐ ing. They happened every 20 years, so it was an exciting time. There were games of all sorts. But it was the culinary competi‐ tion that everyone loved. Our family decided to enter. It was the first time any of our family participated. When our family won, it shook the foundation of the community, and by community, I mean the community of rich and snooty witches who forgot that they had an obligation to take care of the less fortunate.” Janet clapped her hands, laughing derisively. She continued in a high pitched nasally whine, “Imagine that a ‘cultural nobody’ winning.” She shook her head looking each of us in the eye. “I’m sure you’ve met the type. Nose so stuck up in the air they would

50 Bryan Teague drown if it rained?” “So we were cursed because we have a knack for food magic?” I asked in disbelief. “But that’s the only way to prepare food here.” Janet held up her hand. “Now son, don’t try and jump ahead. That’s not the reason at all. We were cursed because our ancestor turned down the opportunity to become the Master Witch Chef.” I was pacing back and forth in the tiny room, attempting to wear a groove in the floor. Leave it to my mother to tell War and Peace when time was critical! “But that still doesn’t tell us how to break this damn curse!” I yelled. I took a deep breath and let it out. “Sorry, I’m just a bit anxious with the murder of a hundred of my closest friends hanging over my head.” Mom took my hand and patted it. “That’s ok dear. I under‐ stand these things. But it is obvious isn’t it? Food magic must be your true love, your passion. That is what will break the curse.” She leveled a steely gaze at me. “Is food magic your true calling? Or will I be burying you?” Janet asked as she handed me a silver plate with a candied bacon and apple canapé. I took it from her, looking from her to Cade and back again. “I have never been happier or more fulfilled,” I said biting into it. I felt energy draw in through my feet, pooling in my stomach. It gathered, building there suffusing me with warmth until I was bathed in a warm golden glow. Light exploded from me shooting in all directions. Squeals of delight and laughter floated on a gen‐ tle breeze that stirred the air. And I lived. “Quickly!” I ordered. “Feed another rat!” Jeffrey retrieved a rat and feeding it a bit of roast. Seeing no signs of trouble, Jeffrey sprang up, gathering my mother and me in a bear hug. “We did it! Well, you did it! I think the curse is broken!” “In that case,” I said with a grin, “We Harve a reception to feed! Let’s get serving!”

51 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

* * *

Epilogue The Cultured Palette Catering Company went on to domi‐ nate the Culinary industry in the years that followed. They suc‐ cessfully launched a chain of restaurants that partnered with their catering outlets all over the world, and all because of one young man’s love of an odd magic brought from the old world. * * *

52 VIVIANA'S TALE

Viviana cowered in the corner of her room, clutching a rag doll to her chest. Her auburn hair fell over her face, covering ice blue eyes that were blood shot from crying. She rocked back and forth as tears continued to stream down her cheeks. Outside she could hear the sounds of battle. She could feel magic gathering and being released. Flashes of light illuminated her bedroom casting malignant shadows everywhere she looked. Her father, Geran, burst in to her room. He scooped her up in his arms as she buried her face in his neck. The damn burst and she began to cry in earnest. He tried to comfort her the best he could, whispering, “It’ll be alright. We just need to make it through the gate. Then we’ll be safe.” He pulled back from her so she could look him in the eye. “But you must be brave and make no sound. Can you do that for me?” Afraid to say anything, Viviana nodded her head before resting it against his broad shoulder again. He carried her to the main room where they joined up with her mother, Clara, and younger sister, Jenevet. He set Viviana on the ﬂoor next to her mother as he crept quietly to the door. Viviana watched as her father placed his hand on the door, and felt him gather power and release it. The battle raged, not

53 Bryan Teague far from their front door. There would be no safe passage that way. There were too many from the other enclaves attacking out front. Geran threw a bar over the door, and rejoined them. He picked Viviana up, and the four of them moved quickly to the back of the house, away from the noise of battle. Again, Ger‐ an gathered power and sent it out. This time, though, he opened the door, and they slipped out in to the darkness beyond. Keeping to the shadows, they moved toward the edge of the village, and the gate that would take them to safety. The edge of the village came in to view as they heard “Halt!” come from be‐ hind them. They stopped and turned around. Viviana lifted her head and looked at the tall man with the long braided hair, and beard. He was standing, feet shoulder width apart, with a hand resting on a sword at his hip. “Adric! Are you coming with us?” she asked. “Viviana, be quiet”, Geran admonished her. To Adric, he said, “What do you want Adric? Are you going to turn on us too? I’m your oldest friend.” “Everyone from the magical enclave is to be gathered in the village square. Any who resist are to be restrained. I’m sorry Ger‐ an, but that includes you, Clara and the children.” Geran shook his head. “This action won’t go unanswered Adric. Even if the magical enclave of this village is destroyed, the enclave from another village will strike back. Is it really worth los‐ ing your life over?” Adric looked at him bleakly. “Don’t you understand? This is happening everywhere. The magical enclave’s tyranny ends, tonight. I can’t let you leave. I’m sorry.” Geran set Viviana down and stepped in front of her. He gath‐ ered power, and sent it at Adric as he cried out in anguish. Geran had done the one thing he swore he would never do, take a life using magic. Viviana peered between Geran’s legs watching the levin bolt hit Adric in the chest. Before Adric’s body hit the ground, Geran spun, scooped up Viviana and grabbed Clara’s hand. They ran for the edge of the

54 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories village. Once out of the village, they moved in to the woods far enough that they could just make out the light coming from the fires in the village. Clara cast a locator spell. They followed the small ball of light leading them through the forest toward the transfer gate, and safety. * * * The ball of light winked out of existence as the family ap‐ proached a cave. Viviana was tired and cold, but she was more afraid than anything else. As they entered the cave, she felt a tin‐ gle pass over her, and the darkness and cold vanished, replaced by the warmth and brightness of a small fire. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she tried to look around, squirming in her father’s arms. “You want to get down now?” He asked as he swung her down to the floor of the cavern, still holding her hand. Geran put his other arm around Clara’s shoulder hugging her. “We made it.” “Papa there’s Darren!” Viviana pulled on her father’s arm as she pointed deeper in to the cave. “Can I go see him, please, Papa?” Geran knelt and placed both his hands on Viviana’s shoulders. “I think he’s asleep. Why don’t you stay here with Jen‐ evet, your mother and me, for now?” Viviana looked longingly once more toward her friend. “You’re right. I can sense him in the dreamtime.” She heaved a sigh and sat down. She looked up at her parents and asked, “Well, are you planning on joining me?” Clara laughed. “With an invitation like that, how could we refuse?” She set Jenevet down, and joined both of them on the ground. “Before I join you, I must find Helene, or one of the other el‐ ders.” Geran kissed each of them, and walked further in to the cave. Viviana watched her father walk away, his head down, and

55 Bryan Teague his shoulders stooped. She turned back to her mother and asked, “Why did they attack us?” “For the same reason that the Gods no longer walk among us.” Clara said in a distracted tone, her eyes never leaving her husband. Viviana frowned. “But the Gods left to save us from the Roskovich.” Clara gasped. She looked in shock at Viviana. “You don’t ever say that word again. You hear me? Never!” Viviana shrank back from her as she meekly answered, “Yes, Mommy.” Clara pulled Viviana into her arms hugging her tightly. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. But that is a very bad word. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Viviana nodded, snifﬂing as tears welled up in her eyes. “I know Mommy. And I won’t.” “Good. Now, you are right about why the Gods left. But, it was a mage that released it, because he thought he could control it.” Viviana made a tisk sound and rolled her eyes. “Well that’s ridiculous! Everyone knows that it can’t be controlled!” Clara couldn’t help but laugh a little at Viviana’s reaction. “I know, right?” Clara sighed. “it was a lesson we had to learn for ourselves.” She shook her head sadly. “But we didn’t learn.” “After the Gods left, we turned our backs on their teachings. The enclaves are supposed to work together. Instead, we felt we were above the others; after all, only the magical enclave wields the magic of the Gods.” She brushed away a tear that slipped out of the corner of her eye. “And now we are paying the price.” Viviana crawled up in her mother’s lap. She hugged her, and patted her back trying to make her feel better. “It’ll be alright Mommy. I know it will. Papa will make it better.” Geran returned with a loaf of bread, cheese and water for them. Clara woke Jenevet, and they had a bit to eat. “We can only open the gate once. When it opens, it will be like sending up a ﬂare. Anyone who is sensitive to magic will

56 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories know exactly where we are. Helene wants to wait for as long as possible.” Geran said between mouthfuls. Clara nodded at this. “Isn’t she concerned about the tenders tracking us through the woods?” “If we’re found, then we’ll defend ourselves and open the gate immediately and save as many as possible. The elders will send families first.” “No matter what, she wants to wait for daylight if at all possi‐ ble. Otherwise the dreamers may be able to track the gate in the dreamtime.” Viviana, perked up at the mention of the dreamtime. “But Papa, won’t the dreamers still be able to find us once we gate to safety?” Geran stroked Viviana’s cheek and cupped her chin. “Ever the precocious child. Yes, the dreamers could find us if we had not devised a way to make our minds invisible to the dreamtime. You keep thinking like that, little one and you will be an elder one day.” He smiled at Viviana as she practically radiated under his praise. They finished their meal and settled in to wait. Fear of dis‐ covery driving sleep from their minds. * * *

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CHAPTER 2

Sometime during the early morning, Viviana succumbed to sleep. Though she had not learned to enter the dreamtime, even sleeping, she could perceive the minds around her. She woke up stifling a scream as she realized there were too many minds nearby. She shook her father whispering, “Papa, Papa, please wake up! There are people outside the cave!” Geran woke with a start and looked around. He brought a finger to his lips, as he nudged Clara. As Geran stood, Clara woke Jenevet and began getting both children ready to run. Geran moved silently toward the mouth of the cave. He stopped by a tall willowy woman with long silver hair that hung to her waist. After several seconds, she nodded and walked to‐ ward the back of the cave. Geran pointed to several men and women and motioned for them to join him. Clara stood, and took Viviana and Jenevet by the hand. They moved toward the back of the cave, joining several other adults with children. Viviana felt power being gathered. She stared wide eyed at the woman with silver hair as she began to glow. It be‐ came so bright that it was difficult for Viviana to continue to watch. She felt the woman release the power. To Viviana, it felt like a

58 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories gust of wind. She saw a flash of light as a gate portal sprang in to existence. Where the back wall of the cave had been, a meadow now stood. The gate was wide enough that three people could pass abreast. Clara approached the silver haired woman. “Will you be alright Helene?” Helene sagged against the wall of the cave. “Yes. But we must hurry. I can’t hold the portal for long!” Yelling came from the front of the cave. “They have pierced our illusion! Helene! They sensed the gate!” Helene pushed herself off the wall. “Erect the shields and protections. Then everyone through the gate. Casters must go last.” Viviana looked fearfully to the front of the cave. She watched as fire sprang up out of nothing. If she looked carefully, she could see a shimmering at the mouth as well. She watched as a spear hit the shimmering, bounced off, and burned up in the wall of fire. Feeling a tug on her arm, Viviana turned back to discover that they were the next ones to walk through the gate. She craned her neck looking for her father. Pulling hard on Clara’s arm, she screamed, “We can’t go! Not without Papa!” Clara motioned for the next people to go ahead as she knelt in front of Viviana. “We have to go now. He will be right behind us, baby. I promise. He has cast protections to help keep us safe so we can all get away.” Viviana whined, “But I don’t want to go without him! He has to come with us, right now!” She stamped her feet. Sighing she looked at her oldest daughter. “No, child, he doesn’t.” Clara touched her forehead, and caught her as Vi‐ viana’s eyes rolled up inside her head and she passed out. * * * Viviana rolled over trying to avoid the sun shining in her eyes. She groped for the blanket that had slipped down, and fallen out of reach. Grumbling, she sat up and rubbed her eyes. She looked around confused at her surroundings. Then the memories came flooding in.

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“Mommy! Papa!” Viviana cried out. She scrambled out of her bedroll headed toward the entrance of the tent. She flew through the tent flaps and ran in to her father. Geran knelt down. “I’m here. Mommy said I would be, and here I am.” Viviana threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck as tears came unbidden. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. Between sobs Viviana managed to gasp, “I thought you were gone, and I would never see you again! Oh Papa. Why weren’t you there when we had to go through the gate?” “My beautiful precious girl. I couldn’t. I had to make sure you were safe! You wouldn’t have wanted me to turn my back on everyone else would you?” Viviana lifted her head to look around. Her eyes grew large as she looked around. “You saved everyone?” Geran shook his head. “No my little lamb.” He kissed her forehead. “I wish it were so. Everyone that was in the cave is safe. Everyone that gathered with Galeath is too.” Viviana looked in to her father’s eyes, and could see the pain of loss reflected in them. Hugging him she whispered, “It’s ok Papa, you did everything you could.” Geran swept Viviana up in his arms. “I bet you’re hungry aren’t you?” Viviana nodded vigorously as she looked around. A gentle breeze was blowing across the encampment, carrying the smells of camp fires and food being cooked. She continued cran‐ ing her neck around looking for anyone she knew. “Where’s Mommy? And where’s Jenevet?” “They’re getting food for all of us.” Viviana started squirming. “Do you want to walk, honey?” Again, Viviana nod‐ ded vigorously. He set her down and they walked hand in hand toward the improvised chow line. Their family was together having breakfast, and all was right in Viviana’s world. * * *

60 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

CHAPTER 3

Over the next few weeks, everyone pitched in to start building anew. The ﬁrst building that was completed was the main hall. “Mommy, does this mean I’m a big girl now?” Viviana asked as the family walked toward the main hall. “After all, I’m going to the meeting too!” “Yes dear, you are a big girl now.” Clara said, amused at her daughter’s reaction. “After all, your magic has awakened.” “I knew it!” Viviana beamed, bouncing as she walked along. Geran chimed in, “Now you know that part of being a big girl is listening to and following what the elders say.” “Of course I know that Papa. Even if I was still a little girl like Jenevet, I would still have to listen to what the elders say.” Vi‐ viana shook her head at the absurdity of her father’s statement. Geran laughed. “Well, you do have a point Viviana. But what I meant was that now that your gifts have awoken, it is important that you follow the rules for your gift too.” “Oh.” Viviana frowned as she thought about this. Before they could talk any further, the family arrived at the hall. Viviana saw Darren and his family, and waved to them. She grabbed her parent’s hands and dragged them over so the two families stood together.

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Helene and Galeath stepped out in to the room, making their way around greeting everyone. Viviana stared in awe when Helene stopped to speak with Geran and Clara. The senior elder was speaking to her parents. She gulped when Helene turned her silvery eyes on Viviana. She half hid behind her mother’s leg as Helene chuckled. It sounded like bells ringing, enticing Viviana to come out. Helene placed her hand on Viviana’s head before moving on to the next family. Helene and Galeath made their way to the front of the room. Helene clapped her hands together creating a sound that was much louder than a clap, that drew everyones attention. “In ad‐ dition to the main hall, which includes food storage facilities, we have also built the watchtower crystals. Once they are powered, we will be able to use magic within the village safely.” Cheers erupted from the crowd. Helene motioned with her hands for quiet. “We face our most dangerous moment when we lock the masking spell. The magical ﬂare to set the spell can not be hidden.” A murmur passed through the crowed. Galeath held up his hand. “Don’t let this frighten you. We have a plan, but we will need volunteers who are willing to create diversions. Diversions that will be large enough to hide the set spell.” “We must imbue the crystals before the next full moon. We need ﬁve volunteers. While we hope that you will be able to re‐ turn, we fear that once you are beyond the protections.” Helene paused again and took a deep breath. “We fear this will be a one way trip.” “Time is of the essence”, Galeath added. One of the people in the back called out, “What about the dreamers? Are we still hidden from them?” “We were never hidden from the dreamers, because we can not separate ourselves from the dream paths. We are all linked in the dreamtime.” Helene paused. “We have masked our magical essence across all planes. If a dreamer were to encounter us in the dreamtime, we would appear as member of one of the other enclaves, provided a dream mage is not working magic.”

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He took Helene’s arm and they moved to the side of the hall. The gathering broke into a buzz of conversation. “Mommy?” Viviana whispered as she tugged on her mother’s tunic. Clara knelt down, “Yes Viviana?” “Why is Helene afraid it will be a one way trip for those peo‐ ple, can’t they just use a gate to come back?” “Once they are beyond our protections, they must travel back without magic. If they use magic to come back, the protectors will be able to track that magic back here.” Helene stepped back to the center of the stage with ﬁve men following her. A hush fell across the crowd. “Thank you all for coming this night. Johan, Gaorge, Rangor, Phaulon, and Suar‐ tious, our volunteers, we will remember you always.” * * * Everyone worked as one toward the same goal, to make sure that everything was ready for the securing. All of the survivors had a role. “But Mommy, we have already done this a hundred times!” Viviana whined to Clara for the third time as they trudged to the crystal watchtower they were assigned to. “I know, but we only have one chance to do this. We have to do it right. So we are practicing again”, Clara replied patiently. “Why doesn’t Jenevet have to practice then?” “She’s to young. Her powers are still dormant.” Clara knelt in front of Viviana and looked her in the eye. “You have your pow‐ ers. That means that you will be able to help to make all of us safe.” Viviana considered this. “But what if I can’t make the magic work when I need to?” Her lower lip began to quiver as her eyes ﬁlled with tears. Clara enveloped her in a hug, rubbing her back. “Just by be‐ ing with me, you will bring magic.” She kissed Viviana’s forehead and stood up. “This is the last practice. So lets go we don’t want to be late!” Viviana led the way, with fresh determination to do her best.

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Her mother followed in her wake, chuckling to herself. The practice went smoothly. Viviana preened under the praise she received from the adults around her. “We will commence with the ritual as the sun touches the mountains. Our scrying shows that our diversions are in place and ready.” Pywin said as she walked through the group. Glancing at the sky, Clara said, “That will give us enough time to eat before we need to come back Viviana. Are you hun‐ gry? Or would you rather stay here?” “Can Papa join us? And Jenevet? I promised to tell her all about the ritual.” Viviana looked at her mother with a gleam in her eye. “And that way you can make sure I know what I’m doing.” Clara laughed as she gave her daughter a hug. “That sounds like a great idea. I’m so proud of you Viviana. You are being very brave. I know you will do well.” They walked back toward the village holding hands talking about how different their new life was without the other enclaves, and how fortunate the mages were that they really didn’t need them. Viviana kept an eye out for her younger sister and father as they neared the main hall. As soon as she saw her father, she broke loose from Clara and ran to her father calling, “Papa! Papa! You would be so proud of me! Mommy even says so!” She launched herself at her father throwing her arms around his neck and wrapping her legs around his waist as Geran braced himself to catch her. “I would, would I?” Geran glanced at his wife who nodded her head in agreement with a small smile. “Well, then that is cause for a celebration when this is all done, and we’re safe.” Geran carried Viviana back to Clara, and gave his wife a kiss be‐ fore heading in to the hall to collect their other daughter. Their next stop was the dining area to join those who decided to eat be‐ fore the ritual. Geran and Clara ate in silence as they listened to Viviana prattle on to Jenevet about the ritual, and the steps she would

64 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories have to perform. Periodically, Viviana would glance at her par‐ ents for confirmation that she was correct. A surreptitious nod from her parents, and Viviana was off and chatting again. All to soon, it was time to return to their designated locations. Geran took Jenevet, and dropped her off at the hall while Clara and Viviana returned to their assigned crystal watchtower. As the sun kissed the horizon, everyone could feel the diver‐ sions beginning. As one, the group that Viviana was in began to chant and weave intricate symbols in the air, magical energy making the symbols visible in golden flames. As each symbol was completed, Pywin would pull the symbols together and push them in to the crystal. Each time she did this, the internal glow of the crystal would brighten. As the brilliance of the sun dimin‐ ished, the brilliance of the crystal increased. As mages exhausted their power, they collapsed. With the set‐ ting of the sun, the spell completed. The four watchtower crystals shot beams of light arcing into the sky. The beams intersected over the center of the little village. At the center where the four beams met, a beam of light shot up into the sky, and down to the ground, in to the village hall powering the fifth and final watch‐ tower crystal, the keystone. A boom shook the earth accompanied by a blast of cold wind that threatened to knock over the few mages still standing. When her eyes cleared from the dazzling brilliance of the magical light, Viviana was stunned to realize she was one of a very few still standing. Her gaze fell upon her mother. She screamed in terror as she knelt by her side crying, “Mommy, Mommy wake up!” Viviana pulled on her arms trying to get Clara to sit up, but to no avail. She put her ear to Clara’s chest, and sighed, at least she could hear a heartbeat. Viviana heard footsteps approach. She looked up from her mother to see Pywin standing over them. “Child, your mother will be fine. She needs rest right now. Leave her be.” Viviana nodded. “Did it work? Are we safe now?” Pywin pointed to the glowing crystal. “Our watchtower is set. It would not look like this if the spell had failed. We are safe in‐

65 Bryan Teague side the crystals.” * * * Over the next several months, life returned to a semblance of normal for Viviana. She had her schooling, her magical training, her family, and her friends that had survived. Normally even keeled and responsible, Viviana had her mo‐ ments where anger got the best of her. In those times, her very powerful magical gift lashed out, completely out of her control. Viviana was out playing with her younger sister. As had be‐ come her habit, Jenevet carried a rag doll around with her as they played, often treating it as a third playmate. Viviana worked her magic and animated the rag doll, delighting Jenevet. As they continued their games, Several of the other village children joined them, until their little group was large enough to catch the attention of the village bullies. When Ryn and his little gang entered the village square, all of the children froze where they stood. He walked straight up to Viviana, glaring. “Who said you could be here?” Viviana gave him a cool gaze. “My parents, the elders, the fact that I can do this”, she said as she shook her fist. When she opened it, A flame sprang out of her palm. “Oooh. The little girl can do a parlor trick”, Ryn taunted. “This is magic.” Ryn brushed through his hair with his hand, then pointed at Viviana. Frowning, Viviana pulled a lock of hair so that she could see it. She smirked at her blue hair. “That’s nothing, Ryn.” Viviana snapped her fingers. Ryn grabbed his pants as they began falling down, only to find them disintegrating in his hands. “Those were my favorite pants”, he screamed! He made a pushing motion toward Viviana. A wind gust knocked Viviana back. She tumbled, falling in to mud that hadn’t been there a moment before. She staggered to her feet. She looked for Jenevet, and saw her face down in the mud. She ran over and picked her up. Viviana wiped the mud off her face as Jenevet opened her eyes. “Are you ok”, she whis‐

66 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories pered? “I think so”, Jenevet replied quietly as she moved to stand. Viviana spun around, anger blazing in her eyes. With each step she took toward Ryn, the sky grew darker, ominous clouds gathering directly over the square. “You did this”, she screamed pointing at Ryn. Thunder rumbled, and lightening flashed. The watchtower stones flared to life, absorbing the magical lightening as it struck the protective dome. Ryn looked wide eyed at Viviana, his mouth open in surprise. He closed it with an audible snap, turned on his heel and ran off. Viviana turned around, retrieved her sister, and quickly walked home. * * * Viviana was in the sitting room when the elders came. Geran and Clara sent Viviana to her room, but she crept back to listen. “Your daughter’s magical tantrums are creating fissures in the watchtower crystals — all five of them”, Helene said without pre‐ amble. Geran stiffened at the statement, glaring at Helene. “You make it sound like her actions were unprovoked. Do I need to re‐ mind you that Ryn attacked her?” Helene frowned at that. “Ryn attacked her? He turned her hair blue. I really wouldn’t call that an attack.” “That wasn’t all he did”, Geran growled. Helene sighed. “And we have dealt with Ryn. The fact still re‐ mains, Viviana is doing damage to the very protections that keep us safe from those who would destroy us. Or do I need to remind you that we don’t have five more crystals to replace our current watchtowers, let alone the ability to lose five more men to the di‐ versions so we can set the protections, again.” Geran and Clara looked at each other nervously. He asked, “What do you want us to do?” “You will need to bind her powers.” Clara gasped, covering her mouth in horror. “You want us to make her mind-blind?” Helene shook her head. “Not all her powers, just her magic.

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It is to strong for a child of seven winters to wield.” Clara looked hard at Helene. “Is this the will of the elders?” “Yes.” As Helene stood to leave, Viviana slipped quietly back to her room. Confused at what she heard, she wanted desperately to ask someone, anyone about it. But, when she considered who she could talk to, there was no one. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she clutched a rag doll to her chest. Viviana crept back to her door and placed her ear against it. Her parents were talking, but she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Suddenly, their voices grew louder, and more distinct; She ran for her bed, and dove in, throwing the covers over her head. Viviana heard the door to her room open. She whimpered softly as she heard footsteps approach her bed. “Please don’t take my magic away”, she pleaded. “I promise I’ll be good from now on!” Clara gently uncovered Viviana and gathered her in to her arms. “My sweet child”, she said, kissing her forehead. “I wish it were that simple.” Geran sat next to them. “Viviana, it isn’t a question of being good. You are a very good girl. But your magic is very strong. It threatens to break our protections, risking our safety. It won’t be gone forever. You won’t even know it’s gone.” Geran touched her forehead with his ﬁnger. Viviana felt a small amount of magic, and then nothing. Clara opened a mind link to Viviana. At least you aren’t mind blind. It is only magic, and it will be given back to you when you prove you can handle it. Viviana tore herself out of her mother’s arms. She threw her‐ self at her father, beating on his chest with her ﬁsts as she sobbed, “I hate you! I hate you! You took my magic away! I hate you so much!” Finally, she cried herself out, with only enough energy to crawl on to the bed. Viviana made sure her back was to her par‐ ents as she stared at the wall willing them to leave.

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* * *

69 Bryan Teague

CHAPTER 4

The happy little girl, who had survived the uprising and helped secure the village, was gone. In her place was a sullen and listless girl who rarely spoke and never smiled. Viviana was crushed at the betrayal of her parents. She still could not believe that they had taken her magic. Viviana’s anger began to spill over on to her friends as their powers developed. She glared at each as they began to demon‐ strate what they could do, and the latest thing they learned about their power. That is, until Darren told her about his special power. As a dream mage, not only could he work magic in the waking world, but as long as he entered the dreamtime through meditation, he could work magic in the dreamtime as well. Viviana hatched an insidious plan. If she couldn’t work magic in the waking world, perhaps she could still work magic in the dreamtime. She spent weeks hanging on every word that Darren said. Finally, as his enthusiasm for the subject was starting to wane, she pounced. Trying to make the question as innocuous as possible. “So, um, Darren, how do you get to the dreamtime without falling asleep?” She smiled sweetly at him and batted her eye lashes like she had seen some of the older girls do. She didn’t understand why it was needed, but it helped them get what they

70 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories wanted, so she was willing to give it a try. She was stunned at the result. Darren puffed out his chest and began to strut back and forth. He spent the next hour lecturing her on how to meditate, and then to use that meditation to catapult her conscious mind into the dreamtime. This time, she really did hang on his every word. When he was done, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Wow! You are so brave and smart!” * * * Viviana could barely contain her excitement as she waited for the sun to set. Darren hadn’t been able to explain why, but a mage could only enter the dreamtime in darkness. Viviana knew that she would have to wait until bedtime to try; she was certain her parents wouldn’t approve. When bedtime rolled around, Viviana made quick work of good night’s and trotted off to her bedroom. She stretched out on her bed and began the meditation that Darren taught her. She felt her body begin to relax and then grow light. She shifted into the mantra mumbled under her breath. She could feel her mind lift up and out of her body. She panicked. She grabbed the edges of the bed and stiﬂed a scream. Again and again, she tried to reach the state where she felt herself growing light, but to no avail. It simply would not come again. Frustrated, she rolled on her side and fell asleep. She stood in a ﬁeld of tall grass, surrounded on all sides by trees. Not a cloud in the sky, the sun warmed the chill brought on by a cool breeze. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. As she spun to see what it was, Darren walked towards her. He smiled brightly as he waved. Viviana blinked, and Darren stood next to her. He opened a mind link. I watched you. You were so close! Darren sent excitedly. I know, Viviana sent back. But there seemed to be several things you forgot to mention about entering the dreamtime. Darren shook his head. I did not! You weren’t listening. Everyone ex‐ periences the entrance differently. Viviana cocked her head to one side. What does it feel like for

71 Bryan Teague you? For me, it was really scary at first. I felt like I was turning inside out. I had to step through myself to enter the dreamtime. What about you? Viviana thought for a moment, and then described her expe‐ rience. By the time she finished, Darren was grinning from ear to ear. What? She sent. Why are you smiling like that? Because, only the most powerful dream mages feel what you did. I think, I think you might be a dream mage like me! Viviana nodded at him. You really think so? I will try again tomor‐ row. When it works, I will come visit you! Much to Viviana’s frustration, it took more than a month be‐ fore she was able to enter the dreamtime, and even then she was confused. When she looked around, she was in the same field, surrounded by trees as when she had talked to Darren. The only difference was that there was a path that lead off through the trees at the edge of the field. She took a step in the direction of the path. The world seemed to fold in upon itself, her foot landing on the path leading away from the field. Viviana peered into the woods. She could feel her parents minds as well as her younger sister’s as she ex‐ tended her senses down the path. With one last look back at her little meadow, she stepped into the woods, while thinking of Darren. Again, the world seemed to fold, and as her foot touched the ground, she was suddenly stand‐ ing in front of an arch that stretched across a stream. On her side of the the stream was a small boat bobbing in the water, pulling against the line that held it fixed to the bank. Instinctively she knew that Darren was somewhere down the stream. Viviana stepped into the boat, and cast off the line. Her little boat drifted, slowly meandering its way across the stream. When it made landfall, she stepped out and looked around expectantly. She stomped her foot angrily when all she saw was another field ringed by trees. The only difference was the stream. She closed her eyes, and focused her mind on Darren. She pictured him as vividly as she could, and took a step forward. She cracked an eye open and almost jumped for joy.

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Darren sat on his bed playing with a toy. Opening a mind link with him she sent, I made it! Darren giggled as he met her eyes. Did you? The question is whether we will both remember this after day turn. Viviana’s face clouded with anger. Or you could tell me now! She glared at him. Darren laughed. Of course you made it. And you even found me on the dream paths. And here I can show you how to do this! He held out his fist, and after shaking it turned it palm up. A small flame ap‐ peared and stayed until he balled his hand agin. You try now. Viviana mimicked Darren’s motions, and she too produced a small flame. She squealed with delight, throwing her arms around Darren’s shoulders and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Thank you so much Darren! Viviana was ecstatic, she had her magic back in the dream‐ time. * * *

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CHAPTER 5

Over the next few weeks, Viviana went into the dreamtime almost every night. At first she was content to stay near what was familiar, the sleeping minds of her parents, or those of her friends and neighbors. The stronger the magic she used, the more she became scared she would be discovered. Viviana began ranging farther afield trying to find a safe place where she could continue her practice. Without realizing what she was doing, Viviana used her magic to slowly reshape the fabric of the dreamtime. She needed somewhere away from her village and her gift provided it. As she wandered the dream paths, she stumbled across another meadow reminiscent of the one that appeared when she entered the dreamtime. The only difference was that there were no minds anywhere near it, and the sky was lavender. Satisfied she would not be discovered by anyone in her village, Viviana began her study in earnest after Darren showed her how she could bring any book forth into the dreamtime that she had looked at waking. Hungrily she consumed the knowledge exulting in doing that which she was denied in the waking world. * * * Viviana was sitting at the dining table reading a book when

74 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories her parents came out of their room. She looked up and smiled. “Good morning Mommy, Papa. Isn’t it a beautiful day today?” She watched as her parents exchanged a confused look. They joined her at the table. Her father took the lead. “It is a nice morning. You are certainly up early. What are you reading?” Viviana grew somber. In a serious tone that only a child of nearly eight winters could muster, she answered, “I’m reading a book on magic. Just because I don’t have access to my gift now, doesn’t mean that it’ll be gone forever. The more I learn now, the easier it’ll be when I’m allowed to have it again.” Clara sighed with relief as Geran laughed. “That is very wise for one so young, Viviana”, he said. Trying for just the right amount of contrition in her voice, Viviana added, “I understand that it was my own lack of control that caused this. And, I’m ... sorry that I forced you to ...” Vi‐ viana took a deep breath as her lower lip quivered. She struggled to keep the tears at bay. Geran lifted Viviana out of her chair and set her on his knee. “Oh Sweetpea”, he said, giving her a hug. “I wish we didn’t have to. But I’m sure the elders will allow you to have your magic back soon, especially once they hear that you are studying so that you are ready to control your magic.” Viviana smiled through tear ﬁlled eyes. “Papa, I’m so excited! I miss my magic!” She threw her arms around Geran’s neck and hugged him tightly. She slid off his lap and returned to her seat, and the book that she was reading. Viviana watched her parents go in to the kitchen out of the corner of her eye. She strained to hear their quiet conversation, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Giving up, she returned her focus to the book in front of her. Geran and Clara came out of the kitchen with their breakfast. Viviana hopped up and after putting her book away ran to get her sister. By the time she returned with a sleepy Jen‐ evet in tow, breakfast was served. * * * Viviana realized that to regain her magic in the waking

75 Bryan Teague world, she would have to prove she could control herself. She dis‐ covered that the meditation that Darren taught her helped with that too. All of the children had their schooling, and for those whose gifts were active, they had magical practice as well. Viviana watched with envy as her friends headed to the magical work rooms. She hated that Ryn who almost killed her sister still had his magic. But hers was bound. Next time she knew what she would do. Viviana knew that these thoughts would not lead to getting her gifts back, so she actively turned her thoughts to helping, knowing that would be the only way the elders would allow the blocks to be removed. As she wiled away the days being kind and generous, she plot‐ ted, waiting for her magic to be released. She smiled to herself knowing that everyone would expect her to be a novice. But she knew better. Already in the dreamtime, she could weave some very complex spells. * * * Before she knew it, it was the celebration of her eight winter’s turn. This was always a favorite day of hers. Her father would create light shows in the sky that would light up the night in dif‐ ferent colored explosions of twinkling lights that would drift back toward the ground. Over their third meal, she asked if he would again do the display. Geran looked solemnly at Viviana. “I’m not sure I have all the energy I need to.” As Viviana’s eyes welled up with tears, he reached over to her, touching her forehead. “But, perhaps you could help me?” Viviana gave a shout of joy as she felt the magic ﬂow through her again. She sighed happily. “Oh Papa! This is the best gift ever”, she cried, throwing her arms around his neck hugging him tightly. “Of course I will help you!” The family walked outside, making their way to an open area. Together, Geran and Viviana created the light show that she loved so much. They sat watching the stars until Viviana

76 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories could no longer hide her yawns before returning home and going to bed. To sleepy to focus, Viviana fell asleep before she could cross over into the dreamtime. But what a dream she had that night. The sky was a brilliant shade of lavender. Viviana put her own spin on her father’s light show, conjuring balls of light that she would toss in to the air. They would explode in dazzling dis‐ plays of light and sound, and she would laugh. "That last one was spectacular." Viviana spun around and studied the woman in front of her. Then she scrunched up her face concentrating before she said, "You aren't one of mine. You don't belong here. Who are you?" "My name is Endya. Your display caught my attention. It is so beautiful. Where did you learn to do that?" Viviana backed up a step. “I don’t know. Papa says we shouldn’t trust outsiders.” Endya smiled at her. “I understand dear. But this is your dream, in your village. If I weren’t good, do you think I would be here?” Viviana considered this, and deciding she was friendly and good told her the truth. "I don't know. Papa says that what we do is like breathing. We don't have to think about it, we just do it. See, watch this." She scrunched up her face concentrating and when she relaxed a new ball of light ﬂew in to the air. This time, when it exploded, Endya was surprised to see her own image in the twinkling light. "That is very beautiful, and very good for one so young. Have you shown anyone else what you can do?" "Oh no, I, I just got my magic back today." “Well, congratulations! I would love to stay, but I must be go‐ ing now. It was lovely meeting you." On a whim the Viviana jumped up, ran over and gave her a hug. "You are the ﬁrst person I could talk to about what I can do! I hope I see you again. My name is Viviana." Endya smiled at Viviana and returned the hug, "Me too Vi‐ viana, those are certainly some pretty balls you make." With that,

77 Bryan Teague

Endya vanished from Viviana's dream. * * *

78 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories

CHAPTER 6

The next few weeks ﬂew by for Viviana. With her magic back, she was to busy to enact any of her petty revenge plots. The dream of the strange woman faded from her memory, re‐ placed by all of the important things a girl of eight turns must consider. Still, now and then, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had forgotten something important. As had become the custom in their family, they walked out to‐ gether as Viviana took her sister by the hand to walk towards school, and Geran and Clara headed off on their errands. The girls hadn’t made it ten steps when the alert was raised. “We are under attack! We have been found! To arms! To Arms!” Viviana turned around, still holding Jenevet’s hand. She ran toward the house, dragging her younger sister along in her wake. As she crossed the threshold, she felt the familiar tingle of magic being released. “Stay inside until your mother or I tell you it’s safe. Watch your sister and stay quiet!” Geran shouted at Viviana as he and Clara headed toward the edge of the village. Viviana pulled out several toys for Jenevet to play with before she crept to a window to peak out. Unable to see anything, she ran to her parents room to get her mother’s hand mirror. She fo‐

79 Bryan Teague cused her own power, and building a clear image of what she wanted in her mind, released the magic in to the mirror. When she opened her eyes, she could see the battle being waged at the edge of the village. She gasped as she watched the mages slowly being overcome by the attackers. The remaining mages were no match for the onslought. She focused on her parents. The scene in the mirror panned around to her mother. Viviana watched as Clara sprinted out from behind some hay bales. She ran toward a child that was sit‐ ting in the middle of the lane crying, his mother lying in a pool of blood beside him. Viviana watched in shock as an arrow pierced her mother’s throat, knocking her to the ground. Viviana screamed in horror as she watched her mother die. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She struggled to breathe against the band tightening around her chest. She cried out as the spell faded from the mirror from her loss of concentration. Viviana grabbed Jenevet, and they stood at the door waiting for their father. She knew he was coming for them. He had to be coming for them, he would fix everything. When the protective spell fell, she felt it and threw open the door. They ran out in to the open in time to see their father. Viviana could see the fear and pain in his eyes as he began building a teleport spell. She screamed, “No! Papa no! We can all go together! Please!” She ran toward him, dragging Jenevet be‐ hind her as she went. A blast of wind knocked in to Viviana as Geran completed his spell. It threatened to tear Jenevet away from her. A second gust of wind sent them both tumbling backwards, pulling them apart in the process. As the world continued to spin, Viviana lost sight of her sister, her father, and finally the village. She tumbled through the nothingness of a magical portal unanchored, and uncontrolled. * * * Viviana woke up, laying in the grass. She sat up confused, un‐ til everything came flooding back. She choked back a sob. Jenevet! Her sister must have landed somewhere nearby. Taking a

80 Everything is Not as It Seems A Collection of Short Stories deep breath, she looked around. Viviana was next to a road. In one direction, it looked like it went on forever. But in the other, The road led to the strangest place she had ever seen. A giant stone wall crossed the road, and there was a metal gate that could raise and lower. From where she stood, she could see inside the gate, and could just make out a building inside the wall. On either side of the road were fields. Viviana looked at the sun. She figured she had several hours before dark. She spent that time looking for her sister, to scared to use magic or her mind gifts for fear of discovery. By the time the sun was setting, Viviana was frustrated almost to tears. She was cold, tired, sore, hungry and afraid. Nighttime was the time of the evil dreamers. They found the mages, even after all of their protections, what would stop them from finding her here, wherever here was? She found herself walking toward the strange wall once again, desperation pushing her forward. Now there were men standing by the gate. Inside, she could see fires and lights in the windows of the building. She began to wonder if there were no dreamers here. Having no where else she could go, Viviana walked up to the gate. As the men took notice of her, she gathered her magic, forming an image in her mind, she released it. The men immediately changed their demeanor. They scooped her up and comforted her. The one holding her carried her through the gate, and directly inside the odd building. He walked in to a large dining room where he addressed one of the people. “Mi’ Lord, we found this girl outside the gate. She needs your help.” The man lifted his head regally, and his own demeanor changed as quickly. “Absolutely man. Bring the girl here. She will sit by me.” Viviana sighed as she was set down on a comfortable chair and given as much as she wanted to eat. That night, as she lay in her bed, clutching her mother’s hand mirror to her chest, Viviana promised herself, her parents, and

81 Bryan Teague her sister, “I will make the dreamers pay for what they have done. They will all pay. They will all pay with their lives.” * * *

82 AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY

Bryan Teague is a Senior Web Administrator by day, and writer by night. Originally from the East Coast, he found a little slice of weather heaven living in San Diego with his chosen family. He is published in the anthology, Letters Never Meant to Be Read Vol- ume III. He's on Twitter @bryanlteague, Facebook, Wattpad, and Allpoetry. You can also visit his website

83 Bryan Teague