Everything blows up in your face
It falls to Ken and me to take Jims home.
Since I don't want to repeat another accidental trip to a tropical beach, much as Jims might enjoy it, Ken offers to drive him down to Edinburgh and I volunteer to go with him. Joy looks at Ken warily, as if not trusting him to actually deliver Jims into the care of his family, but she mellows somewhat when I announce my intention to accompany them. Apparently, she trusts me enough to look after Jims and myself in the presence of a witch, which almost makes me predisposed to forgive her misplaced distrust.
Thus, armed with the address of Jims's parents that Joy found, Ken and I drive down to Edinburgh. It's late by now and Jims falls asleep not even half an hour into the drive. Not wanting to wake him, neither Ken nor I talk much and at some point, I must have dozed off, too. Before I know it, Ken gently shakes me awake.
"We're here," he informs me quietly.
I blink the sleep from my eyes and roll my tense shoulders. The car is parked on the side of a street bordered by two rows of low terraced houses, illuminated by only a few sparse street lamps and the light of the moon.
"Edinburgh?" I ask.
"Suburbs," clarifies Ken.
I nod at him before turning to look at a still-sleeping Jims in the backseat. He looks impossibly young.
"Shouldn't we have used a booster seat for him?" I wonder out loud.
Ken smiles. "Now you start thinking about that?"
I shrug, slightly defensively. "It just crossed my mind."
"Of course." Ken nods, then points at a house that stands a few metres down the road from us. "If your sister is correct, this is where he lives."
"Well, then…" Unbuckling my seat, I get out of the car and open the backdoor.
For a second, I hesitate to wake Jims. It feels heartless, considering none of us has any idea when he slept soundly for the last time. Blasé as he might have been about his ordeal, it objectively must have been terrifying, especially for a boy as young as he is.
Noticing that Ken opened the other backdoor and is watching me over Jims's sleeping form, I murmur. "I don't want to wake him."
"We could let him sleep," he suggests quietly.
"Lay him on the doorstep, ring the bell and run away as quicky as possible?" I whisper, frowning.
Ken shrugs, then nods.
It sounds like a ridiculous suggestion at first, but thinking about it for a moment…
"Okay," I agree, still keeping my voice as low as possible.
Reaching into the car, I carefully unbuckle Jims's seatbelt, allowing Ken to lift him up with equal care. I can see from his slow movements that he's doing his utmost not to jostle and wake the boy. Jims, alas, shows no signs of waking up anyway. He must be exhausted, poor kid.
As a conveniently placed cloud in the otherwise cloudless night moves in front of the moon, there's only a nearby street lamp to illuminate our surroundings and thus to possibly reveal us to prying eyes behind the windows of neighbouring houses.
"Do something about that lamp, will you?" asks Ken as he lightly moves Jims to hold him more securely.
I turn to look at the street lamp and the moment I do, the light goes out as if snuffed. I can't even say what my magic did to put it out, but I don't stop to question it either. Instead, I walk towards the house Ken pointed out, taking care not to stumble over my own feet in the dark. Behind me, I can hear the shuffle of Ken's feet following me.
As we approach the house, a lamp over the front door flickers to life automatically, but my magic needs but a fraction of a second to take care of it.
"Neat," comments Ken from behind.
I shrug to indicate that it was my easiest feat, not wanting to admit that I have no idea how I even did what I did. Sometimes, one just has to know when to take a compliment, right?
Upon reaching the house, Ken carefully lies a sleeping Jims down on the doorstep. The boy stirs briefly, murmuring, but when I smooth his hair back from his forehead gently, he settles back down, shifting to lie on the side.
Exchanging a quick look, both Ken and I withdraw quietly, walking backwards instinctively so as not to let Jims out of our sights. As I'm not looking where I'm going, I nearly bump into the car's side mirror, but my magic helpfully stirs the air around it to fold it away just in time. Thus, I make it into the car unhurt after all, closing the door firmly behind me.
"And now?" asks Ken, sitting to my right on the driver's seat.
"Now we ring the doorbell and run away," I reply. "Just as you said."
Ring the doorbell.
I have but thought the thought when a stick rises from the ground not far from the house, floats over to the door and pokes at what I imagine is the doorbell. Having done so, it immediately drops back to the ground, rolling for another few inches before coming to a final stop.
"Neat," repeats Ken.
I roll my eyes at him, lest he's teasing me. I also don't admit that I suspect my magic of deliberately showing off a little, because I'm fairly sure it could have rung that doorbell without the little trick with the floating stick. Just as we need to know when to accept compliments, we need to know when to keep information to ourselves.
Choosing instead to keep my gaze fixed on the front door, I wait for something to happen. A minute or so passes and I just start wondering whether I need to reutilise the stick again, when the door finally opens, the lamp above it springing to life again.
What follows is a reunion so heartfelt and touching that I can't possibly deny that Joy was right. To delay this would have been a travesty and while I'm glad for the answers we got from Jims first, I'm even gladder that we brought him here pretty much immediately once we knew where 'here' is.
Silently, both Ken and I watch as Jims is hugged and kissed by a man and woman I assume to be his parents. He clings to them in a way that thankfully also proves Mum and Leslie's concern wrong without any doubt. This is a boy loved by his family and if he played at being reluctant to go home, he's undoubtedly very, very happy to be back in the arms of his parents now.
"Your sister was right," remarks Ken into the silence inside the car.
"She was," I agree. I could, I suppose, add something to the effect that Jims gave us important intel and he wasn't wrong to have us ask him some questions either, but he's a grown man and he doesn't need me to mollycoddle him.
"I'm glad he's home," I state instead. "I'm glad he is safe."
Ken hums in a tone I can't quite place.
"Don't you think your mum's friends are able to keep an eye on him?" I query, turning towards him and peering at him through the darkness. His features are only illuminated by moonlight, but as my eyes get used to it, I can see him more clearly.
Since Jims wasn't let go like the others, we can't know whether Jims will be targeted again, so Leslie got some witching friends of hers involved to look after him while we're busy with hopefully neutralising the threat for good. They're set to arrive soon and keep watch so that Ken and I can leave.
"I know Gina and Wallace well. I think he'll be alright with them to look out for him," Ken assures me, though there's a distinct frown on his face, belying the words.
"Then why the doubtful look?" I challenge. If there's even the slightest doubt that Jims is safe…
"It's not his safety I'm concerned about," replies Ken slowly. "I'm mostly wondering whether we can trust him not to tell anyone about where he was held and, of course, about us. We don't need police snooping around and asking questions, especially not now."
"Oh." I consider his words briefly. "Well, I don't think you need to worry about that."
Now it's him looking at me, the frown replaced by a raised eyebrow. "And why do you think that?"
"For one, I think Jims is a trustworthy boy. And for another…" I shrug. "If he told anyone non-magical, who would believe him?"
There's a brief moment of pause, before Ken starts laughing softly. "Point taken. In fact, once he starts talking about being beamed around, not even a magical being will believe a word of what he's saying."
I allow myself a smile. "Glad that my magical quirks and I can be of service."
"Hardly a quirk," counters Ken, growing earnest. "It's perhaps the most impressive piece of magic I've ever seen."
"Would be more impressive if I had any idea what I'm doing," I reply airily, making light of the uncontrollability of my magic.
A moment passes. "We don't always have to understand something to know it to be true, don't you think?" asks Ken and I can feel him looking at me from the side.
"No," I agree, now serious as well. "No, I guess not."
Looking over at him, I can see him flash me a brief smile that I return a little tentatively. With a nod at Jims, he asks, "Do you think we can leave him to it?"
"Are… are what-are-their-names here?" I want to know, peering out into the darkness in search of our replacements.
Ken raises his phone, the screen illuminated and showing a message I can only just make out. "They just arrived."
"Well then…" I hesitate, my eyes turning back to where Jims is just now being carried into the house by his father. Before having formed the conscious thought, I hear myself asking, "We can come back and check in on him once it's over?"
"I don't see why we can't," agrees Ken, while starting the car and turning it around to head back up the street we came from.
The drive back to Leslie's castle stretches into infinity as the car moves through the night. I have no idea how Ken even stays awake, much less manages to navigate the car without crashing it, because I'm absolutely beat. Never having felt it necessarily to get my driver's licence, I can't even offer to relieve him for a portion of the drive, so instead I settle on making small talk to give him something else to focus on but the monotony of the dark, winding roads in front of us.
By the time we're back at the castle, it's closer to morning than to night. Ken heads up to bed immediately without so much as a word in greeting to the others, while I gather myself long enough to given them a brief run-down of what happened when we delivered Jims back to his parents. Joy, I must say, looks might smug but happily refrains from pointing out that she was, indeed, correct in her assessment. I love my sister, but it's too late – or too early, come to think of it – to be told 'I told you so'.
Thankfully, Mum and Leslie take pity on me after a few minutes and allow me to drag myself up to the tower bedroom that I've come to think of as 'my bedroom' unconsciously. Agnes is hot on my heels, waiting impatiently as I brush my teeth and get ready for bed, before happily curling herself up on my feet once I'm in bed. Her purring lulls me to sleep and it takes less than a minute before I'm lost to the world.
For obvious reasons, the late night turns into a late morning and the sun is already high in the sky when I wake up. Agnes is gone, probably having left in search for breakfast, and when my stomach grumbles hungrily, I decide to follow suit. Getting dressed quickly, I skip down the stairs towards where it already smells delicious.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," Mum greets me when I enter the kitchen.
Briefly, I glower at her to show that I'm taking offence at being called thus, before being distracted by the waffles that Leslie is currently piling on a plate. She sets it down in front of an empty chair while Joy kindly pours me a cup of coffee. With a grateful nod at them both, I sit down and tug in without further ado.
They allow me to eat my breakfast in peace for a whole two minutes, before Joy announces, "We're going back today."
No need to ask to where we're going.
"You made a plan?" I ask around a mouthful of waffles and it's to Joy's credit that she understands even one word of what I'm saying.
"We made a plan," she confirms and takes a sip of her own coffee.
Chewing my waffles, I listen to my sister as she lays out the plan with occasional input from Mum and Leslie. Even with Jims's information, we still don't know a lot of what awaits us inside the white building on that industrial estate, and accordingly, their plan has more than one uncertainty. Crucially, we only have a hazy idea about any protective measures, be they magical or otherwise, which is… less than ideal.
"Since we're dealing with a witch, Leslie will go ahead and probe whether any spells have been put on the building," Joy explains to me. "She will try to undo them with Kenneth's help, at which point Mum and I will accompany them inside."
"Wait." I swallow a piece of waffle, almost choking on it in my haste. "What about me?"
In response, Joy exchanges a glance with Mum in a way I don't care for at all.
"You'll be outside standing guard so you can alert us if anyone comes," Mum explains to me, making sure to smile to take the sting out of her words.
I scoff. "That's the equivalent of fobbing someone off because you don't want them to come with you."
Another long glance between Mum and Joy. Without thinking, I push my still half-full plate of waffles away. I suddenly lost my appetite.
Mum reaches out and lays a hand on my arm. "It's just because your magic can still be… volatile at this point. We don't want you accidentally getting hurt."
Abruptly, I pull my arm away from under her hand. "I'm the only one who can beam you out of there if it becomes necessary! So what if we end up in Colorado by mistake so long as we can leave in time!"
"That's true, but –" begins Joy.
I cut across her. "I can block their magic, too! I did it with Jims, I think I can do it with whoever awaits us there as well."
Again, Joy opens her mouth, but this time, I don't even let her speak.
"You didn't have trust in me when I had no magic and you don't trust me now that I have too much of it," I accuse, jabbing a finger in the air. "What do I have to do for you to believe in me?"
What follows is a long, loaded silence. I look between Joy and Mum, only dimly aware of Leslie trying to melt into the kitchen counter somewhere to my left.
Finally, just when I think no-one will say anything, Mum speaks.
"We just want to protect you." She states it quietly, plainly, but sincerely.
I take a deep breath, digging my nails into my arms as I do so.
"I don't need to be protected," I reply, my voice barely above a whisper because I don't trust it enough to try and speak louder. "I never needed to be protected, not back when I had no magic and not now that I do."
"It's just because we love you and we want you to be safe, magic or not," Joy attempts to explain, her hands moving through the air as she tries to emphasise her point.
"I want you to be safe, too!" I exclaim. "And I can help keep you safe much better when I'm with you. My magic sometimes does its own thing, but it doesn't act against my interests. Look how quiet it's been all morning just because I decided not to spend it unnecessarily! I know it won't act against my will. I want you safe, so my magic does as well. It's really that simple."
Once I've finished speaking, slightly breathless, silence fills the room once more. Mum looks at Joy and Joy looks at Mum and I look at them both, hardly daring to breathe.
When no-one says anything, I ask, quietly, "Will you let me come along?"
Do you trust me?
Do you believe in me?
With baited breath, I look at them, not even blinking lest I miss anything, until finally, finally, Mum reacts – and nods her head.
"If you think you can help us, I believe that you can," she states and this time, when she places a hand on my arm, I don't pull it away.
Joy, too, nods her head, a wry smile on her face. "I guess I'm just having to come to terms with being protected by my little sister, huh?"
"I guess so," I confirm, trying not to appear too pleased. Instead, I turn to Leslie and ask, "You're okay with this change of plan, as well?"
"Oh, but of course," she replies quickly. As she speaks, her eyes move to a spot behind me and when I turn, I see Ken standing in the doorway.
I wonder how much he heard?
"No need to ask me," he remarks calmly. "I always considered Rilla an asset. Now, is there some coffee left for me?"
Joy hands him the coffee pot, nearly succeeding in putting on a friendly face as she does so. Me, I turn back around and pull my waffle plate back towards me, my appetite suddenly returned to me.
In fact, there's a warm, peaceful feeling somewhere deep within me that doesn't quite fit to what we're set to face today. I know I should be nervous or even scared, but instead, I feel hopeful and confident and… accepted. Loved.
The light feeling remains even as we gather for me to teleport us back to the industrial area that is our destination for today. My magic, now roused, creates a playful swirl of warm air around us and honestly, the only thing missing to make this go full Disney are some colourful flowers and petals!
Unlike in a Disney movie, alas, everything goes downhill very quickly from there.
The teleportation goes off without a hitch yet, successfully delivering us to the same partly overgrown path that leads past the white building we know the kidnapped magical beings to be in. It looks no different from the moment when he stumbled over Jims, though of course we need to consider the fact that his disappearance has since been notice and that added protective measure might have been taken.
"Any protective spells?" Joy asks quietly, looking at Leslie and Ken.
They both look focused, Leslie having her eyes closed and Ken with a frown etched between his brows as they probe the atmosphere around the building for any witchcraft meant to repel or harm us. Wanting to help them, I extend my own magic, sending it to search for something that might be of interest.
Look for a threat.
Eagerly, my magic uncurls, happy to be able to do something. I can feel it searching the building, looking for something that might harm us, when –
When suddenly, I whip around, my body instinctively following my magic as it whirls through the air. I don't have time to consider what it might have detected, before shouting, instinctively, "Take care!"
To their credit, the others react almost immediately. Turning quickly, they, too, must immediately see the darkly-clad figure that alerted my magic. It is, I dimly realise, the same figure from the alley, all those weeks ago, and the same figure that Leslie fought on the outskirts of her home not much later. Just from the looks, it could be anyone, of course, but my magic knows who it is, if only from the fact that I still cannot tell what kind of magical being is standing across from us, not even when I deliberately set out to try.
As I'm still trying to puzzle out who the hell this is, the others have already sprung into action. There's wind whistling around us, courtesy of Mum, and the earth moving beneath the feet of the dark figure, likely Joy borrowing Di's favourite magic for better effect. Leslie and Ken are on the move, too, and as objects start to rise around us, it's they who're pushing back, moving them away with their spells.
The dark figure, alas, remains unimpressed. Standing firmly despite the rippling ground and the whooshing wind, the figure continues to direct objects to fly towards us, blocking our path, blocking us in.
Keep them safe.
The thought is instinctive, almost primal.
And then –
Block the power.
I don't need to say or think whose power I mean. My magic knows, just as it knows every thought in my hand. It acts instantaneously and I've barely finished thinking the thought when a mid-size station wagon that was parked nearby stops from moving towards us as the figure loses control of it.
Only – only the dark figure wasn't the only one trying to gain control of the car. Ken did so, too, and with the figure's power stripped, his spells hits no resistance anymore, thus propelling the car forward and down, down, down…
Time slows down as I realise what will happen before it does. The figure moves their hands, flutily trying to re-gain control of the car, but that's impossible without magical power, so the car comes hurtling towards the ground at unbroken speed – directly at our foe.
Make the car –
But I don't have time to finish the thought and direct my magic before the car comes crashing down, burying the figure beneath it with a sickening, screeching sound.
Stop.
And everything does stop. For a moment, no-one moves or speaks or even dares to breath. We all stare in horror at the destroyed car with the person beneath it, hidden now, but with no possible chance at survival, not with their powers stripped.
We all stare in horror, but no-one more so than me, because in that very last fraction of a second, I suddenly remembered – and I realised, who the darkly-clad figure truly was.
The title of this chapter is taken from the song 'Ironic' (written by Alanis Morissette and Glen Ballard, released by Alanis Morissette in 1995).
To Guest:
Jims truly is the best! Unfortunately, his role in the story has pretty much run its course now, so while he gets another mention or two, we won't see him around after this chapter. He's fun, but he's a child and Joy is right - he needs to be back home with his family, which he now is =).
