"Mr. Carter, sir?" The wavering voice was barely audible over the din in the lounge. The hum of conversation was everywhere, from the people barking with laughter in groups to the tense quips of single travelers rushing by, attempting to juggle the infinite list of things on their minds.
"What is it?"
"T-there's someone here for you."
I lowered the newspaper I was pretending to read just low enough so that my eyes peeked over the information column. One of the bellhops stood in front of me, sweating and awkwardly wringing his hands, staring at the red carpet in an attempt to avoid eye contact.
"Who?" I asked.
"A lady. She's here to respond to your ad."
"Oh, right." It had only been a few days, and already I had received at least thirty letters asking for an interview. To be honest, it was hard to remember which ones I had replied to. Word about me had been spreading faster than a disease, or a wildfire. Something contagious.
I straightened my paper with a crack. "Fine, send her in."
Well, I wonder what crazy San Fran has brewed up this time. I'd already had five girls... well, four girls audition for the part of my assistant. As for the fifth... well, while I seriously considered the guy, he didn't pull off a dress as well as I would've liked.
The sickly sweet smell of tea hung in the air, so thickly that the taste settled on my tongue. Afternoon teatime was part of the ritual at the Palace Hotel, more disciplined than the chiming of a clock. You could tell time just by sniffing the air. I racked my brain, mentally scanning letters I'd sent over the past week. I could have sworn I hadn't scheduled an interview that afternoon.
A bright voice chirped at me from behind my newspaper. "Hello there. Mr. Carter is it?"
I lowered my paper a fraction, and I was glad I was hiding most of my face behind it, because my mouth fell open when I saw her.
The applicant had a wide, warm smile and eyes that were dark like the woodwork of a piano and warm reddish tones. Her wide brimmed burgundy hat framed her cheerful face as if it were a painting.
I got up from my chair and held out a hand, which she grabbed and gave a vigorous shake. A smile crept at the corners of my mouth; her sunny attitude was hard not to mirror.
"So, you're here for the new position?"
I took a long look at her, taking in her round face and upturned nose. Behind her smile, I could see a hint of worry in her face. Her hands were clasped in front of her, making her look as though she were pleading with me.
Okay, so she seems to be sweet and innocent young lady. Not a bad thing. I could definitely use that. But does she have what it takes?
"That's right. I'm Charlie. Charlie Walters."
"Charlie? That's..." The uncommon name took me by surprise, and as I paused, her smile faltered. "A beautiful name fitting for a lovely lady."
At this, she perked up. "Thank you."
"It's nice to meet you Miss Walters, you can call me Mr. Carter."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Mr. Carter? That sounds a little stiff. I think I'd rather call you The Amazing Maxwell," she said, waving her hands dramatically, "especially when we're in public places." Several silk-clad bystanders in the court turned their heads to look at us, interested. Charlie brushed the hair from her face, glancing at the curious expressions of the Rockefeller wannabes and went a little pink. "Or, y'know, I could just go with Mr. Carter," she said quickly.
I suppressed a smile. "Well Miss Walters, as you know, every magician needs an assistant. Have you had the fortune of attending one of my shows?"
"I have. Your type of magic-I've never seen anything like it. As soon as I saw your ad... well, I knew I had to take the plunge and audition." Charlie looked away with her eyebrows drawn together, as if she was running through her response in her head and giving herself a silent chastisement.
"You're too kind. I am but a humble performer." I gave a bow, coming eye to eye with her. She gave me a wry smile, and I returned it.
"I'm glad you don't require experience," she said, "because I've never helped a magician before. I have my own costume, but in the ad you also said you required someone with a curious demeanor... I don't know, would you say I fit that description?" She held her hands out palm-up, awaiting judgment.
"Hmm..." I narrowed my eyes and clasped my hands behind my back. "Well, let's see. Most people would say that a curious person asks a lot of questions." Charlie opened her mouth to respond, but I continued, "It's one thing to ask questions, but are you familiar with the feeling of wonder? That feeling when you look up at the stars and realize there's something more bizarre and fantastic than any story ever written right up there?" I pointed at the ceiling. "That's the feeling I want to inspire in the audience-the fact that there's so much more to the universe than the things we concern ourselves with." Even though I was standing close to her, there was still a foot of separation between us because of our extreme height difference. "So tell me Miss Walters: do you fit the description? Is this a feeling you're searching for, and want to inspire?"
She stared at me with wide eyes, then blinked, opening and closing her mouth as if she was having a hard time finding a place to begin. "Yes, yes I do. It's what I've always wanted-to inspire that kind of feeling-and you spelled it out perfectly. Out on the stage for everyone to see, helping the masses to think differently... it's all I want." A bit of a flush had risen in her cheeks, and she bounced on her feet as she talked with her hands.
I flashed a wide grin. "Well, then I propose we have a probationary period. I have a show coming up in two weeks that I'll need help with. You can join me for rehearsal tomorrow night. If all goes well, I'll make you my assistant. How does that sound?"
"That sounds great!" Charlie blurted. "I mean," she coughed and continued in a more serious tone, "that sounds great."
"Fantastic. I'll see you at five o' clock tomorrow at the Orpheum, then?"
"I'll be there." She straightened her hat, making it more crooked than it was before. "Oh, and thank you. You won't regret this!"
Miss Walters waved goodbye as she backed away, then gathered the ruffles of her wine-colored dress, running out the door and into the courtyard, a broad grin lining her face.
I hadn't realized the lobby had gone silent until the few groups that were present started talking again. I was still looking at where Charlie had disappeared, an absent-minded smile occupying my face.
%{}%{}%{}%{}%{}%
I closed the door to my study as quietly as I could manage and scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary. Everything looked just as I had left it.
The mirror above the fireplace caught my eye, and when I saw my reflection I jumped a little before remembering it was me. Funny, it had been more than a year and I still wasn't used to my new appearance. The pinstripe suit, the mature face, the confidant stride—it wasn't like the old me at all.
Good, I thought, walking over to the fireplace.The old me was doomed to fail. I grabbed the left-hand candlestick of the two sitting on the mantle and pulled it down like a lever.
With the sound of gears turning, the stone wall behind where the logs would normally sit in the fireplace swung open to reveal a small passageway. Ducking inside of it, I climbed into the dimly lit secret room.
I almost hit my head on the cheap light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Kneeling, I traced my fingers along the bottom of the crooked desk that was taking up most of the space in the room. Finding the lip of the hidden square panel, I pushed up and felt around the space, my hand bumping the form of the book I was looking for. I grabbed its tattered edges and pulled it out.
The black leather book looked as though it had been through hell and back, carrying unknown scars and stains on its cover and pages. A red letter M was the only thing marking the cover, a touch I added myself. I couldn't erase my memory of finding it, even if I wanted to.
"These aren't just parlor tricks," the memory echoed. "This is magic. Real magic."
I opened the book and touched its yellowing pages. My skin prickled, as if something nearby was watching me.
"This has so many possibilities... It's amazing. Exactly what I needed. With this, I can start my own show, but with magic no one has seen the equal of."
Tucking the book into my jacket, I grabbed my hat and left the room. I closed the secret door and glanced at the grandfather clock.It was almost rehearsal time. Charlie would be expecting me.
"But I'll need a new name. A stage name, something better than the mundane William Carter. Something that starts with M. Something sophisticated, like... Maxwell."
%{}%{}%{}%{}%{}%
"It feels different when you're on stage." Charlie's voice echoed through the large and drafty theater. She peeked around the edge of the curtains, her black hair that was tied in an intricate bun glinting in the light of the giant chandelier above us.
"I hope it's not different in a bad way," I said, outstretching a hand towards the lights on the rim of the stage. The border lights flashed on, illuminating the glossy wood floor and brightening up the vast room filled with thousands of seats.
"How did you do that? Is the electrician even here?" Charlie narrowed her eyes at the prompter's box at the edge of the stage.
"Rule number one of magic: a magician never reveals his secrets. And to answer your question, we should be alone. For the most part." I turned towards Charlie. She had abandoned her black coat in the stage wings, revealing the costume underneath.
Her dress was white and sleeveless, with intricate folds like flower petals and black gloves that came up past her elbows.
"My sister made this for me. How do I look?"
"Exceptional." That was putting it mildly. I looked away to keep from staring.
"So, where do we start?"
"Well, I plan for every performance, but those nasty shadows..." I said, tugging at my sleeve with a mischievous wink in her direction, "they don't always listen."
Charlie grinned.
I grabbed the book from my jacket and opened it to the place I needed. Scrawled on the ancient pages were long paragraphs of Latin in black ink. A few diagrams were interspersed with the words, depicting clawed hands and strange symbols. Charlie's eyes widened and she took a step closer.
"What is that?"
"This, Miss Walters, is a book."
Charlie crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. A pleased smirk pulled at the corners of my mouth.
"Go on..."
"Anyway, It's called the Codex Umbra," my face became more serious, "and it holds the secrets to summoning creatures from another world."
"Okay, so that's what you tell the audience, but how does it work?"
"I'll show you."
With one hand, I made a sweeping motion over the book. A black substance fluttered from the spine, like a shadowy flame.
Charlie sucked in a breath. "Okay, color me impressed. How did you..." She shook her head. "Right, first rule of magic." Even still, she craned her neck to get a better look at the book.
"The book is usually my only prop, so that makes things easy for you. All I need you to do is hold the book like this while I perform," I demonstrated by holding the book pages to the empty chairs, "and give a charming smile to the audience." I gave the ghost audience a cheesy grin.
Charlie laughed. "Alright, anything else?"
"Not much for now. We can make things more complicated once we trust each other more."
Charlie paused, looking as though she wanted to say something, but took the book from me silently and held it like I instructed, forcing a smile.
"That's a terrible smile, but we can work with it."
"Hey! It's the best I've got."
"I've seen otherwise. Anyway, they'll announce our names and we'll walk out onto the stage, and then I'll take a bow." I mocked a bow. "I'll gesture towards you, and you can curtsy." I did so and she did a quick and jerky curtsy. "And then we'll reveal the book. After that, the real show begins."
With that, I extended a hand towards the open book and pulled it back sharply. A trail of shadow flames followed. Charlie watched the book closely.
"Keep smiling, Miss Walters."
The awkward grin returned to her face.
Then, with extra flourish, I pointed towards Charlie. Her smile now looked more like a concerned grimace. I pointed from the book to the ceiling, making an arc. Upon command, a thick stream of oily blackness sputtered from the pages and followed wherever I pointed.
There was a resounding boom, and I tensed. The shadows died, like a hose being shut off. I turned towards Charlie and saw the Codex Umbra lying closed on the ground. She was backing away from the book as if it had bitten her.
"Miss Walters, are you alright?"
"Yes—yes sorry, I just..." She pushed the strand of hair hanging just above her eyes to one side. Her eyes were staring at the ground, trying to make sense of the floorboards. "It won't happen again." She looked up at me with a hard edge to her mouth. Charlie made an effort to relax her shoulders, but I could see a sheen of sweat glowing on her forehead.
Ah, I think I moved too fast.
I knew all too well how overwhelming the shadows could be. They had a certain effect whenever they entered a room; something that sucked the warmth out of you. I hadn't really thought about how it would affect her.
I took a few steps closer. "I'm sorry if that surprised you. I know it can be a lot to take in if you're not prepared. I probably should've warned you."
Charlie nodded and rubbed her arms, staring off into the dark wings of the stage.
Coming to stand closer to her, I made a circling motion with my hands. There was a puff of smoke, and Charlie waved a hand in front of her face, coughing.
A single red rose appeared in my outstretched hand. Its petals were a succulent red, with dew drops still clinging to its velvety surface.
I'm glad the spell to summon flowers works. I'll have to keep that in mind.
A weak smile returned to Charlie's face, which grew more and more genuine once she took the rose from my hands. She tucked the flower into her hair. With the new vibrant red, her brown eyes reminded me of a sunset. Not the obvious red or gold that most people see, but the very edges of the sunset that line horizon, just after the sun disappears.
"Thanks, I love flowers. Do you think I should wear a rose for the show?"
"Most definitely. It... it brings out your eyes."
%{}%{}%{}%{}%{}%
The next two weeks passed quickly. Charlie had gotten more used to the shadows with every practice, and her smiles grew more sincere the more she performed. She still gave the book curious glances, but she was never affected by their unnerving aura like she had been the first day.
The Codex sat on the floor of my secret study, its pages open and revealing a picture of a circle labeled with runes.
"Voco vos, everto ex tenebris." I stretched out a hand, and a substance that looked like tar bubbled from the book's spine. The tar grew, shaping itself into a grinning mouth and crude eyes, solidifying and compressing until the silhouette of a creature formed. The thing hovered in the air, looking two-dimensional and about as substantial as a ghost.
Its form was odd and alien, with a snake body, stubby arms, and an angler fish smile.
"Salve, Praecantator," it rasped, barely above a whisper. "Habetis autilium." Hello, Magician. You have our help.
I tried to forget the time when the ritual had gone a little...awry. The image was still stuck in my mind—the shadow creature that appeared that time had carried a much more malevolent aura, and instead of a grin, it wore a gaping mouth full of long teeth. It just stood there, staring, and I couldn't do anything but hold my breath. It disappeared without incident, but I still dreaded meeting it again. It felt as if it were observing me, like a hawk does a fish. Summoning shadow creatures had always made me uneasy, but it was a necessary evil if I wanted to perform magic.
I wonder if Charlie's nervous about the show tonight.
An image of Charlie laughing popped into my head, and a new surge of turmoil settled in my stomach.
What's with the discomfort? A new face isn't making me nervous, is it? I hadn't felt stage fright since my early days of performing, and yet I couldn't shake the jitters.
Maybe it wasn't so much a new face being the problem, but her face.
Charlie's smile and bright ocher eyes came to mind, but I mentally batted away the image.
Stay focused.
I glanced at my pocket watch sitting on the desk and noticed the time; it was nearing eight o'clock.
I grabbed the Codex Umbra and straightened my tie, a smile settling on my face that masked any feelings of doubt.
It's show time.
%{}%{}%{}%{}%{}%
"Ladies and Gentleman, give it up for the Amazing Maxwell and his lovely assistant, Miss Walters!" The announcer's voice crackled through the microphone. He was met with an applause that sounded like rain slapping a roof.
Charlie took in a sharp breath. I glanced at her, concerned. She gave me a smile, but I could see sweat gathering on her forehead.
"Hey, it's going to be alright," I told her. "Just remember what we practiced, and follow my lead." I held out my hand.
Her tense expression softened somewhat. She looked at my outstretched hand with a crease forming between her eyebrows, then rested her delicate fingers on my palm.
With my free hand, I made a sweeping motion. "Fumus," I whispered.
With a pop, smoke exploded in my face. When the smoke cleared, our view was now of the dark abyss beyond the stage rather than the red velvet curtains. The audience applauded at the teleportation trick, and Charlie released her painful grip on my hand.
I took a bow.
If they thought that was good, just wait.
I aimed a smirk at the dark audience and gestured with my hands as if I was looking into an invisible crystal orb. There was another puff of smoke, and the Codex Umbra appeared in my hands.
I held it aloft, and the audience cheered. I passed the book to Charlie, who opened the tome and showed off its pages to the audience. I plunged my hand into the book's binding as if it were a bag. My hand, which should have been visible on the other side, was in the unseen depths of the pages.
Gasps sounded throughout the dark auditorium as I pulled my hand back out with a bouquet of roses. I held up them to the audience like a trophy. I doubted that I would've been able to pull off this trick a few years ago, even if I had the same black magic. My shakiness was nonexistent, and the "what if something goes wrong" mentality was far from my mind—a stark difference to how it used to be. The only thing I was focused only on was making literal magic.
Before they could react, I snapped, and the bouquet burst into flames. A man—or woman, I couldn't tell which—screamed as the yellow light flared and bits of scorched flower fell to the floor. I dropped the charcoal that was left and dusted my hands off.
The bits of flower turned inky black and pooled together like raindrops on a tarp.
Charlie sauntered over to the pool of shadows and placed the book face down on top of it. She backed off and stood beside me. We exchanged a quick glance, and I grinned.
The book shuddered, then flipped over so that the inside faced the ceiling. The pages turned as though pushed by an invisible wind, and with the sound of something cracking, two black shapes shot from the book like nightmarish trees, rising up until they towered in front of us. The shadows solidified in shape, the excess shadow dripping away like wax until they resembled two large, shadowy hands. They spread their claws, awaiting orders.
I took my place in front of the book and I waved at the audience. The shadow hands mirrored my movement. The audience broke into a tumult of cheers, and my pulse quickened.
I wriggled my fingers the shadow hands did the same. Their copying was almost instantaneous, acting as flawless puppets. I lifted my hands in a grand gesture and pointed at Charlie, who was standing off to the side and trying not to look nervous. Tendrils of shadows snaked around her, growing until she was cocooned in shifting blackness.
The shadows dissipated like clouds, and in their place was nothing—Charlie was gone.
Only half the audience clapped; everyone else was murmuring to each other in worried tones. I laughed, and it echoed ten times louder in the open theater, sounding as though the Devil himself was splitting his sides.
I went to one knee and made a space with my arms, looking as though I was hugging a giant invisible marshmallow. I slowly stood up, and the darkness in the room responded. The shadows cast by the drawn curtains, the blackness in the audience—every scrap of darkness pooled towards me like it was magnetic water. The room brightened, becoming more of a middle-ground gray than black
Using the giant hands to hold a ball of collected shadow, I released it into the theater. Everything went dark. The border lights, the spotlight-everything was extinguished, making no difference if your eyes were open or closed. This time the audience was too shocked to make a noise.
I flicked my wrists and the shadow hands turned into slashes of white against the darkness, which was now the only bright thing in the room. The hands didn't give off much light. Rather, they were selfish kept it to themselves, making a stark white and absolute black.
I made a few hand motions, energy pulsing at my fingertips, then pointed to a place in the air. As soon as I did, a bright light appeared like a miniature star. Smoky white tendrils appeared, recreating the cocoon that Charlie disappeared in.
I spun around on one foot, and when I faced the audience again my foot hit with a bang. As soon as I did, Charlie appeared. She sighed with relief and held her hands out in a showy gesture, grinning.
She levitated down, and when her feet touched the ground the darkness retreated around her. Light flooded from her and set all the values right again, growing from just a drop of light until it consumed the rest of the Orpheum.
One by one, the border lights flared back to life, looking like grinning white teeth at the edge of the stage. I could only imagine what the electrician in the prompter's box was thinking.
The shadow hands dissolved into smaller shadows and disappeared completely, ripped apart by the light. Once again, the stage was as mundane as we had found it.
The crowd erupted, a rising cheer that became a roar, filled with high-pitched whistles and whoops.
A smile quirked at the edge of my mouth. Charlie caught my eye; she was panting and close to laughter. She looked so alive, with flushed cheeks and shining eyes, it caught me off guard. Even though the act was over, Charlie still seemed to radiate light. My smirk turned into a full fledged grin.
With the cacophony pounding in my ears and the warmth of the spotlight on my face, I took a bow.
%{}%{}%{}%{}%{}%
I neared the boardinghouse and stopped right before the steps leading up to the main door.
Charlie raced after me and grabbed my sleeve. I titled backward, momentarily losing my balance and stumbling to right myself.
"That was incredible! It was even better than I imagined—I mean, at first I wasn't so sure, what with the whole dark magicand evil shadow creatures thing," Charlie made waved her hands when she said dark magic, "but now I'm absolutely sure this is the job for me." She coughed, pink coloring her cheeks. "If you'll take me, of course."
I clasped my hands behind my back and smirked. "Oh, don't worry. You passed the test with flying colors. I was looking for someone I could rely on-someone I could trust, and work well together with. From what I saw tonight, I think you're that person."
"Really? You think so? Yes!" Charlie lifted her hands to the sky, praising the heavens. "Thank you so much." She grabbed my hand and shook it up and down, nearly dislocating it. "I won't let you down."
I pulled my hand away and rubbed it. "I know you won't. See you at the next rehearsal."
"I'll be there," she said, stumbling towards the boardinghouse door. She beamed at me in the open doorway, her warm brown eyes connecting with mine. Something fluttered from behind my rib cage. The door shut with a clack. I took a calming breath.
From inside, Charlie let out a muffled whoop of joy. I smirked.
Hello, and welcome! This story is all ready fully written and will have a chapter update every Friday. Thanks for reading!
