Sinister Magick- Chapter 3: Perfume & Alcohol

Chapter 3: Perfume & Alcohol

This is the first time in a long time that Edris and I spoke during a car ride. His voice became muffled as I focused on the trees passing me; the crisp leaves had turned a beautiful shade of orange within the past week. I can’t take them in, the moon and darkness are covering them up as if I don’t deserve to experience it.

My hearing clears back up as Edris finishes up whatever he was saying, “—and why do you need her anyways? Shouldn’t we go pick up Sybil and tell her what’s going on?”

“I need that lady,” I grunt, pulling my journal from my purse and putting it on my lap, “She could find my brother. When we see Sybil, I will tell her what’s going on.”

“What does your brother have to do with any of this?” He stops the car, snapping his neck to look at me with a grimacing expression, “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’re being awfully quiet. Not saying much. It’s kind of freaking me out.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” I keep my eyes focused on the cover of my journal, “It was something I did in high school. Stupid mistake. I was young, dumb, and oh so selfish. Now it’s coming back to bite me in the ass. And as for the tarot lady; I haven’t used my magic in a while. I’m rusty. I’d rather her help us.”

His eyes widen and he grabs my hand, for the first time in three years. It’s been three years since he’s touched me in any intimate way, and as you get older; you deal with it. I finally feel like we both have something to mourn, and grief to share. This is the only thing we have in common.

“Ugh,” he removes his hand from mine abruptly and throws both of them down on the steering wheel, “This is what I get for marrying a witch, I guess.”

There it is. There’s the shallow, inhumane, disgusting attitude that I’ve lived with for ten years. I knew it was too good to be true. My eyes narrow on him, “Stop that, and continue driving. We don’t have much time.”

“What do you mean, ‘we don’t have much time’?” Edris snaps, gently pressing on the gas pedal.

The concerned expression on his face softens my voice, “The less you know, the better. I shouldn’t have told you.”

“This is my son we’re talking about. My kin,” a tear drops from his cheek as he speaks, landing on his left thigh, “I care about him too.”

Edris is right. He’s his son too. This magic, though, this world… it’s too complicated for him to understand. It would take months, even years, to explain just the basics. Our world is different from his, we stay hidden; judged by the outside world as if we aren’t also human.

Growing up as a witch was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. That’s why I go so easy on Sybil because I know exactly how it changes you. It’s something you can’t put into words-- discovering magic.

I remember when I first told Sybil she was a witch. She was in her room, playing with her Barbies, when all of a sudden, the head of one of them flew off, hitting the wall in front of her. I was reading my novel when I heard the bang. I ran into her room, and noticed how her face was pale—ghastly even, and her decapitated doll’s head was laying on the floor in front of her. It was traumatizing for an eleven-year-old girl.

After explaining to Sybil that she was a witch, she embraced it. She wasn’t mortified like me; she didn’t feel lost. That’s how I knew she was more like my mother than I’d thought. She is brave, fearless, and independent—but she’s still my little girl.

“I understand that,” I respond to Edris, blowing a strand of hair from in front of my face, “When I was young, shortly before I met you, my brother passed. He was killed by a dark witch, using dark magick. I didn’t know what to do. I made a deal with Hecate, in return for another soul, to bring him back.”

Edris’ face goes completely white. He begins sobbing uncontrollably, as if he thinks our son is gone forever. That doesn’t help me, doesn’t make me feel better, and now I feel even worse about the whole thing. I’ve tore myself up about it enough. I’m acting on it.

I’ve never seen Edris cry since I’ve known him.

We slowly pull into the street of the psychic’s house. I sigh heavily once he parks and grab my purse. I open the car door and place my feet on the pebbled driveway. It’s colder out today, and I noticed when we walked out of our house—but everything is so overwhelming that I didn’t even mention it.

The psychic’s house is small, homey, and vibrant. She has dark blue chairs on her porch, and a sign to the left of them that read ‘PSYCHIC’.

Edris trails behind me as I walked. I could sense him wiping away the tears from his face, and I noticed his face was puffy from crying earlier as well.

I knock on the door and peek through the window. The outline of wooden cabinets, paintings, and candles shine through, and light footsteps head towards the knock.

“Who’s there?” It sounded like a woman’s voice, but not quite as old as the one that lives here. Maybe her daughter or granddaughter.

“I’m looking for the Rosalie, my name is Minerva and I’m here with my husband, Edris,” I sightly shout back at her.

“Edris?” She opens the door. I wasn’t bothered by the fact that she was so confident with saying my husband’s name, but I was bothered by her odor. She smells of really heavy perfume, and liquor. She looks to be about my age, or a few years younger, and she’s wearing black jeans and a black blouse—her golden hair braided down to her waist. I could tell she was a witch as well; I could sense energy radiating all around her.

“If this is a bad time—,” Edris started, but the lady cut him off.

“No, certainly not,” She opens the door wider for us; an invitation inside.

I hesitate, but step forward, Edris following.

“Mother is a little bit drowsy today, but I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, Edris,” She turns to me and holds out her hand, “My name is Nina. Nice to meet you, Minerva, I’ve heard a lot about you,” She smiles and walks upstairs quickly; I’m guessing to grab her mother.

Heard a lot about me? Could this be the woman Edris is seeing?

I glance around me, the candlelight soothing my anxiety filled blood, and take a seat at the dining table. The wallpaper is old, maybe from the 50’s, and the air smelled of rosemary and sage. The only rancid smell was Nina herself. Edris places himself next to me and we patiently wait.

Nina and Rosalie come walking down the stairs, Nina balancing her mother with her hand. As they reach the bottom, Rosalie’s eyes light up when her gaze connects with Edris.

What is this connection that they have? I started longing for that type of intimacy from him.

Edris smiles at her and stands back up and she throws herself into his arms, “You haven’t aged a bit, young man,” she says, pulling back and studying his face with her hands.

“Neither have you,” He jokes, gesturing for her to take a seat.

Rosalie laughs and her eyes move to me, and her smiles slightly fades. It’s clear it was now not genuine.

“Who have you brought?”

“This is my… wife, Minerva,” he says. For some reason, his pause before ‘wife’ kind of bothered me. Why did he hesitate?

I flash a quick smile, “Nice to meet you. How do you know each other?”

“Tea?” Nina pops her head out of the kitchen.

“I’m okay,” I reply, and Edris nods, “I’ll take some.”

“Why are you here?” Rosalie asks Edris, completely ignoring my question. Now I was even more bothered, could I possibly be in my husband’s mistress’ house?

No. He wouldn’t bring me here.

“My son,” He says, “He is missing. My wife says it started from a bargain she has with… Hecate, in exchange for a life. We need you to find her brother, if possible. He’s the only one that could possibly find him.”

“Oh, sweet thing,” She purrs, caressing her crystals that are laid out on the table, “You never make deals with entities.”