Witches Under Way (34 page)

~ ~ ~

For a thousand nights, that trapeze had called to Elsie, swinging through her dreams in impossible temptation.  And a thousand mornings she’d woken up and remembered that people didn’t fly.  That skies were for birds and gravity was an immutable, unbendable rule.

Not today.  At long, long last—not today.

Strong arms caught her just as she reached the base of the ladder.  “Hey, slow down there a minute.  I’m Abe.  Let’s get you clipped into a harness, okay?  Then we’ll head up.”  He grinned.  “You must really want to get started.”

It shocked her to her toes, but yes, she did.  The harness, however, had never been part of her dreams.  “Will it get in the way?”

“The harness?”  Abe shook his head.  “Trust me, you’ll hardly feel it.  There’s plenty of open sky up there.”

A few more safety instructions, to which she paid embarrassingly little attention, and then they headed up.   Abe took her hand as she stepped onto a small platform.  “Okay, the first thing is to get you trusting the harness and the net.  I want you to do a big jump off the platform here and land right out there in the middle.  You’ll feel the ropes working to stabilize you on the way down, and the net’s a soft landing.  Do a nice big cannonball, just like you used to do into the pool when you were a kid.”

Elsie Giannotto had never been that kind of kid.

She looked down—and felt her head reeling.  Oh, God.  This was a very bad time to discover a fear of heights.  Abe wrapped her hands around the ropes, and she felt the sense of disorientation receding.  “In general, looking down will just make you dizzy.  Keep your eyes on those two over there.”  Elliot and Colleen waved from the mirroring platform on the opposite wall.

Abe tapped her shoulder.  “Ready when you are.  Big step out and feel the wind in your hair.”

What she felt was the beating of a thousand hearts—and not all of them were hers.  And the strains of an aria, rising in the background.  Vero—singing of passion.

Elsie breathed in the love.  Clutched the ropes.  Bent her knees.  And launched herself into outer space.

It was Gertrude Geronimo on a big hill in fast-forward.  Her stomach carved an arc in the sky, coming down to land somewhere in her toes.  And she was pretty sure the jubilant scream ringing off the rafters was coming out of her mouth.

Then feet touched net—and back up into the air she flew, this time with eyes wide open.  Abe was right.  She didn’t feel the harness at all.

She had no idea how long it took before the net no longer catapulted her back up into the sky.  She landed, a tangled pile of rope and legs and sweaty joy.  And saw Abe, waving down from the platform, laughing.  “I forgot to mention the bend-your-knees part.  That way you won’t bounce off the net so many times.”

Elsie grinned back, delirious and a little dizzy.  “What fun would that be?”

He chuckled and started pulling on a thin line.  “Come on back up.  This time, we’ll put you on the trapeze.”

Her entire world narrowed to the bar slowly swinging back to Abe’s hands.  She was going to fly.

Quickly, she scaled the ladder, barely conscious of the height this time.  And felt the earth shift when she grabbed on to the trapeze with both hands.  It was like a living thing, shimmying under her touch.   Something that had always been meant to be part of her, and had been missing until just this moment. She shook Abe off as he leaned over.  No instructions necessary.  Her soul had been training for this moment for thirty years. 

Hands firm on the bar, she pushed her hips up into the sky—and flew into her dream.

~ ~ ~

The joy beating out of Elsie didn’t take a mind witch to see—but every mind talent in the crowd was amplifying her anyhow.  She was far too contagious for them to do anything else.

Jennie watched the moment through her camera lens—and knew exactly what she would call it. 
Escaping Gravity. 
Elsie had found her next picture with a vengeance.

“There’s another picture to take,” said Melvin’s quiet voice at her shoulder.  He’d always known how to make himself heard in the midst of bedlam.  “Over to your left.”

Jennie turned, astonished.  Not once, in twenty-five years, had he tried to point her camera in any particular direction.  And then she felt it, sandwiched between Elsie’s sky-scorching joy and the communal celebration on the ground.

Lizard’s fierce, proud delight. 

Jennie felt her tears come. 

“They love.”  Melvin’s thumb gently wiped her cheek.  “This is a miracle of Elsie’s bravery and Lizard’s insight—and the woman who trusted that they could become sisters for each other.”

“Lucky guess,” said Jennie, sniffling.  She looked up as another squeal signaled Elsie’s descent off the bar down into the nets.

This time she remembered to bend her knees.  After coming to a much less unceremonious stop, Elsie peered down through the net and waved, blowing kisses at the upturned faces. 

Melvin laughed.  “She’s got a bit of the performer in her, doesn’t she?”

Jennie grinned.  Aervyn must be providing eyes for Melvin again.  “Vero has taught her well.”

Elsie headed for the ladder with one last wave to the crowd.  Helga, standing right at the front, called after her.  “Hurry on up, sweetheart.  I want a turn.”

The trainers up on the platforms thought she was kidding.  Jennie wasn’t nearly so sure. 

“Interesting.”  Melvin reached for his pendant.  “They’re not finished with her yet.”

Jennie blinked.  The girl had flown on a trapeze—what more could they want?  She watched as all three trainers started moving around.  Elliot hopped onto some kind of modified trapeze.  Colleen flew down one ladder and scaled up the other side.  Then she borrowed Elsie’s trapeze and focused on Elliot, swinging from his knees on the second trapeze.

Oh, God.  They couldn’t—they seriously couldn’t.  Jennie felt the crowd hush as more eyes figured out what was coming.  Colleen and Elliot, seasoned veterans, executed the move with easy precision.  And then Abe put the bar in Elsie’s hands as Elliot wound up his swing again.

Jennie had a terrible urge to cover her eyes.  And then she felt Melvin’s hand, warm and comforting, wrap around hers.  “Feel her mind, Jennie mine.”

The sky-scorching joy was gone.  And in its place—bold, focused daring. 

Abe had his hands on Elsie’s hips, helping her time the jump.  One, two, and off, flying through space on a thin metal bar.  This time, she had a destination.  With a grace that awed Jennie, Elsie slid her legs up through her arms and over the bar—and then let go with her hands.  One long whoop of joy as she whooshed through the air hanging by her knees, and then she was looking.  Reaching.  Meeting her partner’s hands as if she’d done this a thousand times.

Elsie Giannotto, trapeze artist.  She was utterly magnificent.

~ ~ ~

Elsie tried to roll down from the net like Abe had instructed—and landed in an ungainly heap in his lap.  He laughed and stood her back on her feet.  “Your legs are probably a bit tired after all that.  You just blew through about three months of lessons in an hour.”

Her legs were wobbly.  Her arms were pretty much non-functional.  And if none of them ever worked properly again, she’d consider it a fair trade. 

Abe handed her a brochure.  “We have beginner classes and intermediate.  You could come for either.  Beginner’s more about the flying-free stuff.  Fun, not very demanding.  More partner work at the intermediate levels, and focusing on knowing where you’re going.”  He grinned.  “Seems to me you might like both.”

Elsie stared.  And then started to laugh.  A warehouse full of meddling witches, and the next step of her journey was coming from a guy she’d just met.  Elsie Giannotto still needed some free flying.  Heck, if it felt that good every time, she’d always need it.  But she also needed to figure out where she was going.

Someplace to match her newly bold heart.

She took the brochure—and turned to face her audience.  She had some things to say.  And then it would be time to get even.

After flying on a trapeze, public speaking was a breeze.  “I was going to say that I have no idea why you’re all here.  Well, except for Helga.”  She paused and grinned at her white-haired friend.  “You can come with me next time.”

“I just might,” Helga chortled.  “And we’re here because we love you.”

“I know.  And I’m pretty sure you’d all still love me even if I’d never gotten out of that car.”  She wondered if they had any idea how close a call that had been—and sought out the face that had chased her out into her dream.  “How did you know?”

Lizard shrugged and crossed her arms.  “You dream loud.”

Elsie stared, shocked to her core by the invasion of privacy.  And then shock receded as Lizard’s words truly sunk in.  “No.”  Elsie shook her head slowly.  “I didn’t dream loudly enough.  My deepest hopes only got to come out and play at night when I wasn’t really listening.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the truth of what she was about to say next.  “Thank you for listening when I couldn’t.”

“No big.”  Lizard looked insanely uncomfortable now.

Elsie grinned.  It was about to get far, far worse.  She walked slowly over to her bag, keeping one eye on her roommate.  And pulled out a brochure.

She turned to the waiting crowd.  “You’re all invited to the Great WitchLight Dare, part two, tonight at the Starry Plough pub.  8 p.m.”

She turned back to a totally confused Lizard.  “This is my dare for you, Lizard Monroe.  You have an open-mike slot in the pub’s Poetry Slam at 8:15 p.m.”  Which had required a minor act of God and several witches.  She handed her roommate the brochure.  “I dare you to speak one of your poems.”

Watching the blood drain from Lizard’s face, Elsie was suddenly very glad to be a fire witch.  It might take a ring of fire to get Lizard in the pub’s door.

Chapter 24

Lauren walked in the door of the pub, filled to the rafters with noisy witches and assorted college students.  She found Jennie’s worried eyes. 
Sorry, I got nothing.  No idea where she went.

Nobody else does, either.
 

Lauren sighed. 
It’s not all that easy to vanish in Witch Central.  You think she left Berkeley?

Jennie shook her head. 
Melvin says no, and he’s never wrong about this kind of stuff.

Does Melvin know if she’s coming back?

Jennie’s mind was leaking concern. 
He’s not sure.

Crap.  Lauren knew why Elsie had given Lizard hours of notice on the dare.  Most people couldn’t recite a poem with no warning, although their blonde delinquent might be the exception.  But it had given Lizard way too much time to think.  And way too much time to run.

She turned to look for Elsie.  If Lizard didn’t put in an appearance, it was going to be hard on a lot of people, but none more so than her roommate.  Her friend.  The one who had stepped up to her own dare and served a wicked-hard one in return.

“Elsie’s doing better than the rest of us,” said Vero, handing Lauren a mug of beer.  “She says Lizard will show.”

“I hope that’s not just wishful thinking.”  If wishes could get the job done, Lizard would have been back hours ago.

“Not anymore.”  Vero climbed up onto a stool.  “Even back before WitchLight, Elsie was often an effective therapist, you know.  Not always, but she had a reputation for being quite insightful.”

That hadn’t been Lauren’s first impression of Elsie, but she kept her thoughts to herself.  Vero had a big soft spot for their once-obsessive witch.  “Well, she nailed this dare.  Not what I expected from the woman who once had us all texting words to Lizard to improve her vocabulary.”

Vero snorted into her beer.  “We all take wrong turns sometimes, and Elsie’s were often spectacularly wrong. She also had a reputation for that in her professional community, although I’d wager she’s unaware of that.”

Lauren raised an eyebrow.  “You seem to have a lot of background on your WitchLight charges.”

Vero’s lips twitched.  “Information is power.  You know that as well as any witch in this pub.”

She did.  “I don’t suppose those files of yours happen to say where Lizard goes to hide.”

Vero shook her head, sipped her beer—and watched the door.

Lauren had just settled down into errant-witch watch when her pendant sent out a long, slow hum.  The kind of sound you might expect from a rock exhaling in relief.  She glued her eyes to the door, along with all the pendant wearers in the room.

And watched Lizard come stomping in.  With an enormous, smiling black man at her side.

Who the hell is that?
  sent Jennie.  Lauren could hear versions of the same question from two dozen minds. 

No idea.  But I intend to find out.
  She stretched a link toward Lizard and ran into a blank wall.  Deciding she wasn’t taking blank for an answer, Lauren turned her scan on the hulking man standing beside her assistant. 

And caught the last thing on earth she’d expected to read. 
He’s her father.

She caught Jennie’s shock—and then her laughter. 
No way those two share genes, my dear.