Chapter Eighteen

The Parlour Trick

            The next morning Alice and Maya shared their experiences with the potion as they made a large breakfast of pancakes and bacon. 

            “Mine was almost too real.” Alice didn’t mention the fact that the man in her day dream had resembled Altair. “I mean, my…the ship got attacked and boarded by pirates! And there was a bloody boot…it was a bit scary.”

            “That doesn’t sound nice.” Maya frowned. “I’m glad I chose the beach. It took me a long time to get up the courage to drink the potion, but it was nice, really realistic, like I’d gone on vacation. The guy didn’t evenshow up.  I just enjoyed lying in the sun.”

Alice wondered if the potion somehow knew you. It would make sense that Maya would be shy of intimate contact with a man.

            “So I would guess you would do it again.”

            “I think so. If it was just the beach.”

            “I don’t think I’ll be doing the pirate one again.” Alice turned off the burner on the stove, figuring the stack of six pancakes was more than enough for the two of them.

            “What was your guy like?” Maya smiled.

            “He was…a pirate,” Alice said lamely. She couldn’t help feeling worried all over again. It was just a dream. A magic dream though…does that mean it was different?

            “Alice?” Maya looked amused. “You’ve gone off somewhere. Are you back on the pirate ship?”

            “No.” Alice stabbed one of her pancakes with more force than was strictly necessary.

            “Maybe you should do a different one next time,” Maya said worriedly. “You don’t seem to have liked it.”

            They cleaned up the breakfast dishes and then Alice took the younger girl downstairs. She sat quietly with Shakra by the fireplace, and Alice watched curiously out of the corner of her eye as the girl edged closer to the Tiger. Maya was staring intently. Could Shakra be talking to her already?

            There were several customers in the shop and one of them, a thin and awkward woman with explosively frizzy brown hair and huge coke bottle glasses that magnified her blue eyes, had tried on a strangling scarf and seemed unable to get herself untangled.

            “Ma’am, here…let me.” Alice tried to grab the end of the knitted scarf - once you squeezed the end they went limp - but she couldn’t get hold of it because the woman kept dancing around, flailing her long arms and making awful choking noises. Alice thought crossly that the scarves didn’t exert more pressure than a gentle squeeze, and the woman was trying for a law suit or something.

“Stay still, ma’am.”

            “Ack!” The woman choked, clutching her throat and dancing on the spot. “Ow!”

            “Stop it!” Alice ordered crossly. “I know you’re not choking.”

            The woman stopped for a second, observing her with bug-like eyes. “I am too.”

            “You’re not - now hold still.” Alice managed to wrap her hand around one end of the scarf, and it sagged limply onto the woman’s shoulders, no more exciting than a blue knit scarf someone’s grandmother had made. Alice unwrapped it and threw it back in the box.

“There.”

            The woman continued to stare at her, rubbing her throat. Alice crossed her arms and glared, fairly sure the woman was trying to run some sort of con. She reminds me of a stick bug. Then the woman blinked at her, and turned and walked out the door, exiting with a jingle of the overhead bell.

            “Thank God,” Alice muttered, and returned to the till where Maya was staring after the woman in astonishment.

            “She was faking?”

            “The scarves don’t exert enough pressure to actually choke someone. It’s just a funny name.”

            The door opened, and Alice turned back, hoping it wasn’t the stick bug lady returning.  It was Altair, and he had a large golden envelope in one hand. It was sealed with blood-red wax stamped with two curly A’s.

            “Mail’s here. Found this on your doorstep.”

            “Oh great.” Alice took it reluctantly. “Two guesses who this is from.”

            “Well I’ll wager it’s not Alcoholics Anonymous,” Altair said cheekily.

            Maya eyed it in dismay. “An invitation.”

            Alice had turned it over and was reading the scrolling calligraphy on the front. It was addressed to her with no return address or stamp in the corners.

            “I guess he’s above sending letters like a normal person.” She looked up and down the sidewalk in front of her shop. “I hate how they always appear on the doorstep out of thin air.  It’s eerie.” She slid a finger under the flap and ripped the golden envelope open.

            You are cordially invited to….

            “Why am I always being cordially invited?” Alice griped. “Why doesn’t he start with something different?”

            “Next time maybe he’ll say you’re grudgingly summoned,” Altair joked. “Would that be better?”

            Alice looked at him closely for the first time since he’d walked in the door. He had a pair of leather boots on that folded down at the top, black pants and a white open collared shirt.

What the hell? Was it her imagination or was he dressed very similarly to how he’d been in her dream? Altair noticed her wide eyes and smirked at her.

            “I know I’m good looking, but honestly, darlin’, you’re staring.”

            She glared at him. “I was merely distracted by your hideous outfit.”

His expression became more amused. “I thought I would go for the pirate look today.”

            She froze. Was he was alluding to something? It wasn’t possible, was it? She studied his face, her heart in her throat. That simply isn’t possible. You can’t share a dream with someone. Only it hadn’t been a normal dream. It had been a potion induced day dream. You could never guarantee what would happen with magic, could you? Maybe he did know.

            “Hello?” Altair interrupted her thoughts. “The invitation?”

            Alice huffed and tore her eyes away from his face, reading the invitation. “Looks as if he’s having a formal sit down dinner this time. How perfectly dreadful. I didn’t think gods had to eat, or the Vampires he seems to like to hang out with.” She thought of something horrible. “They won’t be…eating, will they?”

            Altair was shaking his head. “No, that would horrify most guests. They’ll merely sip on wine and pretend to eat some of the food, just for appearance.”

            “Then why bother with dinner?” Alice said. “That seems sort of silly.”

            “Probably so you’re stuck sitting in one place for a few hours. So he can talk to you without having to worry about going around to all his guests and being the good host all night.”

            “He must have more important guests to sit by,” Alice protested.

Altair shrugged. “We’ll see, but I doubt it. What time is this dinner?”

            “It’s at seven. I can hardly wait.”

            Maya was pale. “I’ll have to come. Look what the invitation says.”

            “Crap, you’re right.  That jerk didn’t leave any wiggle room.”  Right below the formal wording was a long, hand-made scrawl, probably Ambrose’s, which said:

Please bring all your delightful friends including your newly acquired pet, dear little Maya.

            “Newly acquired pet?” Alice glared at his handwriting.

            ”He’ll get me back.” Maya’s brown eyes were wide with terror. “He’ll try to…I just know it.” She sucked in her breath sharply and Alice was reminded of her own fit of hyperventilation. She went to the girl and placed a firm hand over Maya’s shaking one.

“There is no way I’ll let him take you back. I’ll bring that entire place down around his ears before I let that happen.” Maya flinched, and Alice remembered, too late, what Ambrose’s one act of magic had been. Damnit.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean that literally. I just mean you’re not going back there.”

To her surprise Shakra suddenly nuzzled her way under Maya’s arm, and the girl let her hand rest there around the Tiger’s neck.

“Is Shakra coming too?”

            “Of course.” Alice was relieved when Maya nodded, looking less afraid. She didn’t know how to comfort someone so obviously traumatized, but Shakra seemed to. Thank God.

            “So when is this party?” Altair asked.

            “Saturday June 26th,” Alice read, “At 7:00.”

            “Three weeks,” Maya groaned. “Only three more weeks.”

            “It will be fine,” Alice told her firmly. “Everything will be fine.”

 Maya’s voice quavered, “But what if he tries to hurt you?”

            “Don’t borrow trouble,” Altair told her, glancing at Alice. “Alice has it covered.”

            Alice nodded. She wished she felt as confident as he sounded.

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