Once A Witch Part 21

"Ah, young love," a baritone croons to my left, and I see the tall, robust man who lit Aunt Beatrice's cigarette standing next to us. He beams at us, turns back to his partner, who I realize is Aunt Beatrice, and whispers something in her ear.

She tilts her head toward his, one bejeweled hand reaching up to caress his face, her mouth budding into a tiny smile. Uncle Roberto, I think suddenly. I arch on my toes. Beatrice's husband, I mouth to Gabriel. As we watch, Uncle Roberto reaches into his gray vest pocket and pulls out a shining gold pocket watch. The chain dangling from the watch gleams briefly. Gabriel's hand tightens on mine.

All of a sudden, I think back to that first night that Gabriel came home when we stood in the living room with Aunt Beatrice. She hasn't lost anything that I can find. I tried earlier. It was something about a pocket watch. "Very well, my dear," the man says, "but I must tell the cooks to hold off for another fifteen minutes, then. They will doubtlessly be unhappy with me" He kisses her hand.

"Of course, I'll take a thousand of their frowns for one smile of yours" As he moves off the floor, Aunt Beatrice touches three fingers to her lips and blows a kiss to the man's retreating figure before she sways through the crowd in the opposite direction.

"Do you think that's-"

"One way to find out," Gabriel says, and we follow Uncle Roberto.

TWENTY-ONE.

"EXCUSE ME, sir," Gabriel calls to Uncle Roberto as he reaches the relatively deserted gravel path leading to the kitchen. Uncle Roberto turns, smiles beatifically upon us.

"Ah, young people. Are you enjoying yourselves this evening?"

"Oh, yes" I nod feverishly.

"You and Aunt Beatrice always throw the best parties" This may be putting it on a little too thick, but as we step closer to Uncle Roberto, I realize with relief that he is more than a little drunk. His face has a moist all-over sheen to it and his eyes are benevolently gla.s.sy.

"So you're a relative of Beatrice's, then. I certainly would remember if you were related to me," he adds with a chuckle and a wink at Gabriel that's obviously meant to convey something in male language. I jab Gabriel in the side and he belts out a late laugh.

"Sir, we were wondering if we could see-" I start when Gabriel cuts me off. "We were wondering if you'd like to see a card trick that you won't believe" From seemingly out of nowhere, a deck of cards has appeared in Gabriel's hand. I stare at him. This was not what we had planned. Truthfully, we hadn't planned much. We were just going to ask Uncle Roberto about his watch and hope that something vaguely providential occurred. Apparently, Gabriel hadn't thought much of this plan.

"Oh, now" Uncle Roberto gives us another gentle chuckle accompanied by a shake of his head.

"I'm afraid the guests will be wondering when their supper is going to arrive and I must speak with the cooks. But my wife is fond of card tricks. Perhaps you should-"

"We did try it on several of your guests already. And Aunt Beatrice," Gabriel says smoothly. Then a note of pride enters his voice.

"None of them, including your wife, could get it. But she said that you might. She said that no one can get a card trick past you." Inwardly I groan. This is definitely laying it on too thick. Uncle Roberto is eyeing us with what I am sure is suspicion.

"How did you say you're related to my wife, again?" he asks softly. My mouth goes dry, but Gabriel says with a careless laugh, "Oh, you know how this family works. People coming out of the woodwork all the time. Especially at parties. My father, may he rest in peace, was like you"

And here hegives a subtle weight to the word you.

"He was a great friend of Uncle Charles's, too. *So many cousins' was their little joke between them" Gabriel riffles the deck with a casually confiding air. With his eyes on the cascade of cards, he adds, "It's anyone's guess how you guys really manage to put up with this family.

"Uncle Roberto gives a bellow of a laugh that nearly jolts me out of my skin.

"That's for d.a.m.n sure. Your father, he was ..."

"A self-made man," Gabriel fills in.

"G.o.d rest his soul."

"Eh, now" Uncle Roberto steps closer.

"I didn't know you folks believed in G.o.d. I mean, Beatrice's explained it all to me.

How you practice white magic, so to speak." I swallow my smile to hear it broken down in these terms. My grandmother and mother would have howled with laughter.

"Well, my father had a few things to say about that when it came time for my first Communion," Gabriel says, altar-boy earnest now. I try not to stare at him.

Religious devotion does not figure into what little I remember about Gabriel's father, Uncle Phil. Unless he was a member of the Church of Boring Sports. In that case, I do remember a lot of G.o.dd.a.m.ns and thank you, Jesuses being shouted at the football and baseball games that flickered in and out of reception on the rickety television set my mother had placed in a small side room. That was where you couldalways find Uncle Phil ensconced-if you wanted to do such a thing. Most of us didn't.

"Good man," Uncle Roberto grunts.

"I might have a few things to say about that, too, if Beatrice and I ever ... well. .

. that's not talk for a party, now is it?" Then he shakes away whatever he was thinking, steps forward, and claps a hand on Gabriel's shoulder.

"Let's see this trick. But this is a real trick, right? None of your . ."

He swallows and I suddenly feel a pang of sympathy for Uncle Roberto.

Apparently, there is some truth to what Gabriel said about not knowing how he tolerates the family.

"None of it at all. Not my Talent, anyway," Gabriel says, honest at last, and the cards snap in his hands and suddenly the movement of his fingers is too fast to follow. After a few seconds of complicated shuffling and rearranging, he fans the cards and holds them out to Uncle Roberto.

"First pick one card, any card" Uncle Roberto does so and holds it in his hands expectantly.

"And you can look at it, but please do not show it to me or my a.s.sistant." Uncle Roberto nods, his face going carefully blank as he takes a quick peek at the card.

"Now place it in your left pocket," Gabriel instructs.

"Good, excellent. Now pick another, whichever one you'd like. And look at it, please, but again don't show it to anyone ... Perfect. Now hand it to my a.s.sistant face-down so I can't see it. Perfect. She's going to place it in your right vest pocket" I step forward, my heart suddenly thwacking my rib cage. Hoping thatUncle Roberto won't notice that my fingers are trembling, I reach for the second card. The slick plastic feels cool to my fingers, and as I step closer to Uncle Roberto, I can smell the sweet perfume of alcohol and after-shave coming off him.

"Sorry, sir," I mumble as my fingers slip against his chest.

"You did this trick on ladies, too?" Uncle Roberto says with another bellow of laughter.

"That's why I have my lovely a.s.sistant. So no one can complain," Gabriel says, his voice magnanimous and light, betraying no hint of the nerves I know he must be feeling.

"Okay, Ta-er, Agatha. Place the card in his front right pocket now. Now,"

Gabriel coaxes me, and suddenly, just as I realize that he has nowhere to go with this trick, Uncle Roberto takes the card from me and places it in his own pocket, smiling kindly at me.

"I think your a.s.sistant needs a little practice," he says gently and then turns with an expectant look on his face.

"And now what, my young man?"

"And now . ."

Gabriel says and pauses for what must seem like a dramatic flourish, but really I know it's his way of buying time.

"And now, please take the first card out of your pocket and look at it again" As Uncle Roberto fumbles for the first card, Gabriel sends me a look that clearly reads as what the h.e.l.l is wrong with you and I send him a look back that I hope conveys I'm sorry!"Now what?" Uncle Roberto says, holding the card aloft, looking at each of us in turn. He rocks back on his heels a little, smiling happily.

"It's still the same card?" Gabriel asks.

"That it is."

"Are you sure?" Gabriel says, stepping closer.

"I am," Uncle Roberto replies with the first hint of impatience.

"Look-"

"But what about your second card? Please, allow me," Gabriel says, and before Uncle Roberto can react, Gabriel steps in smoothly, inserts his hand into Uncle Roberto's pocket, and flicks the card free. It tumbles to the ground, landing face-up. The queen of hearts winks at me.

"That's not your first card?" Gabriel says with a swagger.

"No, it certainly isn't," Uncle Roberto says with a grin. He thinks he's beaten the trick.

"I think it's not just your a.s.sistant who needs a little practice."

"Maybe so," Gabriel concedes with a disarming smile and then adds, "But I'm not so sure. Let me see what other cards are in here."

"Oh, ho!" Uncle Roberto says, clearly willing to give us one more second.

"Gabriel, don't," I say with a catch in my throat as he leans forward and draws out the pocket watch from Uncle Roberto's pocket. He is holding it by the chain, his fingers not quite touching the watch face. For one second, one minute, one eon, nothing happens,and then Uncle Roberto steps back, a frown creasing his face.

"See here, what's this about?" It's not it, I think with a sinking heart, and then Gabriel gives a short, sharp twist and the pocket watch comes free of the chain and spins through the air, its face gleaming and glittering. With a flash Gabriel puts out his right hand and catches it just before Uncle Roberto does.

"Tamsin," Gabriel gasps.

"This is-"

"Idiot," I moan. Silvery ribbons are snaking up from the watch, entwining themselves with a sinuous fluidity all around Gabriel's hand before shooting up his forearm.

"Cold," he murmurs.

"So cold."

"What's ... I... why did you-do something," Uncle Roberto bl.u.s.ters, and with a shock I realize he isn't talking to me. I turn and Aunt Beatrice glides forward from the shadows, c.o.c.king her head to the side and examining Gabriel dispa.s.sionately.

"Do something," Uncle Roberto says again to his wife, and she smiles at him, a gentle smile, one that a teacher would give to a pupil who wasn't maybe her best and brightest but who held her heart just the same.

"I am doing something, dear. What I'm supposed to be doing. But this isn't something you should have to see" And with a light brush of her fingers she touches her husband's forehead tenderly. All at once Uncle Roberto stops moving. His eyes remain wide open but unblinking. I lurch toward Gabriel, but somehow Aunt Beatriceblocks my path, anchors me to her by grabbing both of my wrists in one hand. She is holding me so tightly that my palms and fingers tingle unpleasantly.

"Gabriel!" I shriek.

"Drop it. Drop it now." With what seems like great effort, Gabriel turns his hand over, but the pocket watch has adhered to his fingers.

"Good thing it wasn't his left hand," Aunt Beatrice says musingly as she turns her attention back to Gabriel.

"Otherwise, he'd have died by now. But then again it'll just take another minute or two to reach his heart this way."

"What?" I cry, tearing my eyes away from Gabriel's stone-colored face.

"Stop this!" I say fiercely to Aunt Beatrice, trying to pry her fingers from my wrist.

"Now or you'll regret it." She smiles at me, a very different smile from the one she just gave her husband, and my skin crawls trying to equate this sword blade of a woman with my dotty great-aunt. With her free hand, she reaches up and flicks her fingers against my forehead with what seems like considerably more strength than when she touched Uncle Roberto. Her eyes gleam with a cold and righteous anger. Inwardly, I feel the familiar dizzy wave roll over me and then it's gone. Twisting my wrists in her grasp, I finally manage to angle my palms away from each other. Flames erupt from my right hand and sizzle into the gra.s.s near her feet.

"Oh!" she shrieks, beating frantically at the hem of her dress. Taking advantage of her distraction, I wrench myself free of her, step forward, and s.n.a.t.c.h the watch from Gabriel's hand. Instantly, the silver ribbons engraved in his skin begin to shimmer and fade, but he remains motionless. All at once I remember how Gabriel, the fire, and even time itself seemed to have stopped when I touched the clock in 1899.

"What have you done?" Aunt Beatrice whispers, staring at me now. Her lips are trembling and her eyes dart from me to Gabriel, then back to me again. I stare at the watch in my hand, then flick it open. Faint writing has appeared on the lid, but try as I might I can't read it. Just as I seem to catch a word here and there, it squiggles away from me. With a start I realize these letters are behaving in the same way as the ones on the clock in 1899. And in my family's book. Ten seconds have pa.s.sed.

"What does this writing say?" I whisper hoa.r.s.ely.

"I don't know," Aunt Beatrice answers immediately. Even though I know somehow that she's not lying, I say anyway, "What do you mean you don't know? You're the Keeper, aren't you?" She flinches, nods once.

"But I still can't read it. I don't have that Talent."

"How long have you been the Keeper?" Twenty-five seconds have pa.s.sed.

"Three years." She closes her eyes briefly.

"And now I will lose it."

"Why?" "Once the power's breached, it goes to someone else."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Keepers never know who the next Keeper will be. The Domani chooses them.

"Thirty, thirty-five seconds have pa.s.sed.

"Why was Uncle Roberto able to touch the watch without ... without those snaky things attacking him?"

"Because my husband has no Talent. He's an ordinary man" And the way she says ordinary sounds like wonderful. I swallow.

"Since he has no Talent, the Domani doesn't recognize him."

"So this writing would never appear if... when ... he touches it?" Aunt Beatrice shakes her head.

"But if I read this writing, what would happen?" Aunt Beatrice blanches, shakes her head again.

"What would happen? If I read this aloud? Would I be able to destroy it? Would I be able to destroy the Domani?"

"No," Aunt Beatrice whispers.