There’s actually a lot that went on behind the scenes of “Virga Mysteries”, featuring university witch Melissa Virga. Not so much in breadth, but in depth, as far as the writing goes.

So to fully wrap up the Virga Mysteries saga, I thought I’d do one more post about how it all came together. Note: There are spoilers for some plot points. Enjoy!

EARLY CASES

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

I had the first story done by May, so after graduation. I’d basically had the idea of an imaginary friend come to life, and wanted an eccentric female detective to deal with it. Sherlock Holmes was likely an influence.

The characters were revisited a year later, in June 2004, when I was in the midst of some confusion surrounding my relationships. That’s why the second story has a romantic undercurrent in it, along with the technological aspect. (The initial note for the story simply states “computer site, evil script”.)

I feel like the writing helped me work through some things. I subsequently changed elements after the first draft, and then modified things even more before putting that second case online here.

I must have been treating the story more seriously then too - I actually had some text files of latin phrases for use in 2004. And a vague third story idea, “Love of a Star”… that never materialized. Instead, the third (and last) case came about in 2008, after a four year gap.

It was my grandmother’s death that prompted me to mess around with what actually became that third story, “Borderline”. I don’t remember if it was a conscious or unconscious decision to bring back Melissa, so that I could work through some personal issues.

I was quite close to my grandmother, and incidentally was pleased she was able to meet my soon-to-be wife before she passed on.

Since this time the afterlife issues were of impact only to me (unlike the second case with relationships) there was less overall editing. In fact, the story was unfinished (lacking concluding paragraphs) until 2010 (when I did the extra edits to that second story). That’s when I decided it would be a trilogy and called it there.

I hadn’t really had any plans to put it online, but I hadn’t had any plans to not do it either. Which could be said of much of my writing.

BALANCING ACT

July, by comparison? Relatively quiet. So when I saw the JulNo tag somewhere in June, I decided to try for 50k. But what to write? Well, why not a new Melissa story, incorporating as many weird supernatural things as I could? Including callbacks to the original cases.

Since this was going to be novel-length, I decided it had to be at a pivotal time for the characters, hence James' graduation years later. I did my own personal tracking (they have websites for this now), reaching 10k on July 6th, 20k on July 17th, 30k on July 21st, and 40k on July 25th.

There were a couple of 0 word days in there (when I NaNo now, I try to avoid this, always having at least something new in the document) including on July 29th. But on the 30th I powered through with almost 4k words to get 50,085. (It wasn’t even the highest day, I had two previously where I exceeded 4k.)

I then wrote the conclusion on July 31st (including Trixie’s “Post Epilogue Thing”) to get 51,382 words in total. This was spread over two files: Events up to the end of Amy’s part, and from Melissa’s parents onwards.

For the record, my writing style tends to be having a particular goal in mind (in this case, Melissa’s ascension) with smaller arcs created along the way. I find I can’t write the goal first, because I’m not sure what the mood or reactions of the characters will be at that time… it will depend on whatever comes before.

So that’s why there was that big time skip after the bit with Melissa’s parents. I realized I was approaching 50k, and so decided I’d fast forwards and wrap up the faction stuff rather than draw things out even longer with cases (which I probably could have done).

I feel like it still made narrative sense, but maybe that’s me?

Once done, I figured the story would need edits… but maybe not too many, since James wouldn’t get to edit this story to match with the plot, right? And Trixie self-described herself as no good at it. ;)

VIRGA ONLINE

The initial cases were easy enough to separate into four parts/acts each, as I’d written all cases to be roughly the same length. I mostly did final edits as I went along, usually in the days right before posting.

“Balancing Act”, which began its run on this blog in late January of 2019, required rather more effort.

[caption id=“attachment_2345” align=“alignright” width=“186”] TRIXIE
Commission from Sen Yomi[/caption]

I initially split the story into Four Acts (as I had the previous cases). I did edits on Act 1 as posting began. By March 2019, I realized that the second act was going to be 8 parts, more than the initial 6 parts of Act 1.

It had made sense to put the split in when Amy fell asleep, separating by event, rather than by length. But I wasn’t sure I liked that, and suspected similar issues would come up with the remaining two acts.

It was after March Break (with my wife and daughter still in France) that I revised “Balancing Act” to Six Acts. But they still weren’t equal size, the third act was only two parts (splintered off of Act Two) and the fourth was four parts.

Tweaking occurred, putting the last (now sixth) part of Act Two into Act Three as well, giving part lengths of 6-5-3-4-??. By the end of March, I’d even decided to go with 6-5-5-???, splitting Act 3 in the middle of the dinner with Melissa’s parents. Perhaps a bit awkward, but I think it worked?

By early April I had edited things as far as June. I don’t upload right away in such cases, to give me time for a final pass, but that seemed to create a lot of inertia. Act Five took a lot longer to mess around with, editing-wise. I blame parenting, and so forth.

It wasn’t until near the end of JULY that I got Act Five done. Seriously, I look at my edited files and there’s a jump from “Mar 21” (Act 4c) to “Jul 22” (Act 4d, possibly just a renumbering).

In the interim, I got an art of Trixie in May at Anime North 2019, just so that it wouldn’t be Melissa all the time as the image for the posts.

FINAL EDITS

Around this same time, I was completing the equivalent of an entirely new part (to fill in the time skip gap a little better). That’s when I realized the parts could be 6-5-5-5-?? and most of the acts would become five parts.

This new work in late July, by the way, also let me flesh out Trixie’s backstory a little more. A process I’d started earlier, as in the initial writing, she had been interested in bothering Melissa by trying to hook up with James.

I nixed that early on. (Hello past me, we really don’t need two women with a thing for the narrator.) It morphed into more of her annoying Melissa in other ways, and not taking relationships seriously.

So the discussion between Trixie and James (in 4D) after their dinner (and just before the time skip) was all new - originally just a two paragraph summary.

I frankly like Trixie much better this way. The original writing had her drop her interest in James after the illusion spell making her look like Melissa went nowhere (the bit with Zamboni). This now morphed into her questioning her desire for a perfect relationship (as a counterpoint to Zamboni).

I’m still not sure if it works, but it definitely works better than what was there before.

At any rate, to keep the 5-part structure, I decided to put the Wrap-Up of the Zombies in the start of Act Six (as 6a)… and it just so worked out that Trixie’s addendum in Act Six worked well as it’s own part, extending what would otherwise have been another five part pattern.

Meaning an overall structure of six acts, the parts being 6-5-5,5-5-6. Almost like I planned it from the start, or something.

I do like how it kind of foreshadows Trixie’s extra “Post Epilogue”, if you remember that Act One seemed to have that extra part to it.

The entire editing process was done on Tuesday, July 30th. There were some minor updates in October 2019 as I uploaded to the blog, and again in mid to late February 2020. I had toyed with the idea of splitting “Balancing Act” into two (a bit like I did with Time & Tied’s four books), but September 2019 promised to be busy, so I nixed that.

This post was written the week of April 20th, after spending the previous week on the Epsilon Summaries, and there you have it.

Did the process go at all like you thought it did? Do you have any thoughts about the characters, either the three mains (including Trixie) or the individuals? What about bringing back information from the other case files, bad plan? I’d be interested in your thoughts, as always.

If you liked the story, perhaps vote for it at TopWebFiction, so more people see it? (By clicking on that link?) It took a while to clear their queue, and then I never remembered to suggest that link until now. My marketing fu is weak.

Next week, we’ll see how Story 6 of “Epsilon” goes. You still have about a day to vote, if you want input on the genre and characters. Thanks for reading!

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 6f: OF MELISSA AND JAMES

Hi! Trixie here. I’ve now read the whole “Balancing Act” novella that James wrote, as I assume you have too. Thanks for getting this far! This is why I feel you should know the real ending. You can thank me later.

For the record, I do maintain that James was an idiot. Yet to a certain extent, Missy was also an idiot, so in the end, they truly were made for each other. Right?

It’s sorta like that anime about “The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya”. Except Missy only got to be a God towards the end. Well, and James truly loved her, and Missy knew things were supernatural, and okay, bad comparison. Bah, look, I’m no writer. Anyway, here’s the deal.

[caption id=“attachment_2345” align=“alignright” width=“186”] TRIXIE
Commission from Sen Yomi[/caption]

I found this manuscript on the computer in James’ room (formerly Missy’s room), finally exploring there after the third day that he didn’t return home. Yes, his computer was password protected, and yes, I’m that good at what I do. Hence how this whole story has been added to the other three cases he published online. You’re welcome.

Now, while I’m not 100% certain, and James could be dead in a ditch somewhere, I’m pretty sure I know what happened to him. It’s why I got him to sign the Agency over, and more to the point, why I said he’d better hold on to that ring.

Because the idiot didn’t seem to clue in to the fact that it would take Missy time to recharge herself from doing an ‘Ultima Ratio’, to the point where she could actually bring him along to join her. Like, a lot of time.

I didn’t tell him, because I didn’t want to raise false hopes. In all honesty, I wasn’t sure she’d be able to get enough power within the three-month window for those space-time fractures on either side of her decision. It sure came down to the wire.

Anyway, he’s gone, and so yeah, good for her. For both of them, that is. I like to think that being able to home in on the ring helped Missy out, along with my having written James' engrams to Mixi as a test run.

Meaning I did a good thing. I really am that smart, yeah? More mature than I was at the start of all this too. Just saying.

And that’s the real end. You’re welcome.

Oh, unless you care about little me? The buxom witch Trixie, who seemed to be such a puzzle for James to figure out? It’s so tempting to give my real name, instead of this one that James created.

Seriously, had I been a MALE character picking up every Friday night in a bar, I doubt any of you would have given it a second thought. As a lady, am I not allowed to seduce people or something? Damn stereotypes. Or maybe it’s because I was a techie? And they’re not supposed to behave the way I do? Because that’s also bad stereotyping, and shame on you all.

At any rate, I’m doing reasonably well for having lost the only group of people where I felt I was finally fitting in. (Did you even think of that? Did you? Yeah, thanks for asking.) Thing is, I’ve got their Agency here, and I’ve been recreating my Rixi, and okay, I might have met someone at Missy’s ‘farewell celebration’ too, which is leading to a stable relationship.

Could be a guy, could be a girl, could be an elf, you don’t know. It’s not an AI though, is my point. Maturing, as I said. Also, it’s not a relative. Seriously, ew, who went there? Oh, and if I find anyone shipping the three of us main characters at once on any fanfic boards, you’re getting a piece of my mind.

Okay, so that’s the end.

Except now I’ve gone and ruined the poetry of it, huh? And I dunno how to rewrite all this to end it more like how James did last part.

Know what? For all his faults, the guy did craft a pretty good story.

Hmm, fine, let’s consider this. If something magically wonderful happens, you probably have Melissa to thank. If something completely contrary to the supernatural balance happens, you probably have James to thank for distracting her and Mixi at an inopportune time. Heh.

Yeah, I have no idea if ascended beings can make out, but if a mysterious baby appears on my doorstep sometime in the next few years, maybe I’ll have my answer.

Hell, they’d better not do that while I’m single, I don’t think I could handle being a single mother. Shoot, making this about me again.

So really, really, that’s the whole story. Of Melissa and James.

You can stop reading now.

For serious.

Are you still there?

Okay, yes, dammit, it’s true that I’m going to miss those idiots. You happy now? Go leave a comment on this blog now or whatever, I’m gone.

TRUE END

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 6e: OF MELISSA AND JAMES

I felt my heart beating faster in my chest. “Do I want to know what you saw?”

“I saw more than one thing,” Melissa admitted. “Which isn’t something that’s supposed to happen. Even yesterday, I’d held out some hope for the variation. That there would be a way to mentally train myself, so that Mixi would be sufficient.”

Trixie pursed her lips. “And what more did I need to do? Should I just take my wondrous creation back?”

Melissa shook her head. “Don’t misunderstand, I needed all that you’ve done, Trixie. But it has to be more. And when I finally realized what my role was in all of this, I… I wanted to put off saying my goodbyes for as long as possible.”

I felt a knot forming in my stomach. “Mel?” I said, not liking where she was going with that.

“The orb also let me see the key reason for why I was chosen,” she continued in a rush. “Setting aside my fanaticism with supernatural balance, it goes back to my lineage. There is more power in me than I realized, more power than my parents themselves are aware of. Enough for me to do more than observe the Earth. I have the power to see other realms, James. Other possibilities. Things that I’m not sure Mixi can handle yet.”

“I want to be offended by that, but you’re freaking me out,” Trixie remarked.

Melissa sighed, and held Mixi up. “This device is perfect for maintaining the supernatural balance, which is what we designed it to do. But it can’t recognize when exceptions are needed, or adjust for the rules that exist outside of our realm. A human element is required. One that knows how things have changed over the centuries.”

Trixie flinched. “You really ARE going all ‘Star Trek: The Motion Picture’ on us here, huh?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Melissa admitted. “I will say that the burden will be considerably lessened with this device operating. It’s only, necessary adjustments cannot be made by someone bound in this space-time, and the transition out will only happen when the fractures align. Which will be soon.”

I found my voice again. “So you’re leaving,” I said. “And you knew this yesterday.”

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Melissa took a step forwards. I took a step back, suddenly not sure I knew her anymore. After all, if it had been me, I would have spent more time with her. I would have celebrated the rest of the time we had together, not retreated, not kept silent and worked on things by myself!

Her expression did something of a sad crash. “It’s not that I didn’t think you’d understand,” she murmured. “It’s that I didn’t want to make things different between us.”

“Except you did,” I insisted. “You retreated from me!”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I… damn, you’re not wrong. Oh James, I messed up, and now everything is aligning, so I can’t make it right. God, I wish I’d given us more time!”

When I remained silent, Trixie spoke up again. “Okay, so bye, take care of yourself then,” the redhead chirped. “Maybe tweak the stars in my favour a bit? Seeing as you’re running off with not only my prototype Mixi but the original device I had to base it on?”

Melissa looked over. “I can’t play favourites, you know that,” she said. “Otherwise I’d do something to fix this now.”

Trixie smirked. “Just testing you. You pass. You’re normal, and probably not possessed. Albeit you’re more flawed in terms of relationships than I realized, because James has a point. So how are you going to use the next sixty seconds?”

Melissa winced. “I… don’t know.” The part of the roof where she was standing started to puddle a bit, like it was turning into pudding. She returned to looking at me. “I hope you can forgive me in time,” she whispered.

It was that comment which shocked me back to my senses.

Maybe I would have spent time with her, but Melissa, she wasn’t me. That was the whole point; it was why I enjoyed her company. More to the point, Melissa was normally so blunt and straightforward, and here, she’d been evasive. Because of how much she’d cared.

Perhaps, in the end, I’d sort of sabotaged myself? Encouraging Mel to listen to her emotions over the last several years? Meaning she’d said nothing until she’d been sure, and then even beyond that, had found herself unable to open up. Unable to be blunt with me any more. But all of that, it didn’t matter. Damn it all, I still loved her.

“Just tell me one thing,” I said, thinking back to the conversation we’d had in her parents' pantry. “Do you really want this? Do you really want to be the one forced to monitor magick in and around the entire world?”

Melissa’s lips quavered. “I do now,” she admitted. “I thought I wasn’t ready, and maybe I’m not. But to see it all laid out – this is what I’ve been trying to do with the Agency, James. But now I can do it on a cosmic scale! Outside of this framework of reality, I could even affect events before they happen. And I want to make that difference.”

“Then you should do it,” I concluded. “And I’ll support you in that. Because I love you. And in the end, that means there’s nothing that needs forgiving.”

Melissa seemed to blur a bit, and it took a second for me to realize it was because I’d started crying. She smiled at me. “If it helps, James, in a sense, I won’t be gone. I’ll be everywhere.”

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “It helps.”

A tear ran down her cheek. “I should have been with you last night. But I was worried that, if I was, I’d have second thoughts. I’m sorry.”

“No regrets,” I insisted. “Though, can we at least hug before you fade out, or whatever?”

I opened my arms tentatively, and Melissa threw herself into the embrace. She buried her face into my shoulder for a moment. “There’s a letter,” she murmured. “For you. In the filing cabinet. Trixie has others for my parents. Whether you read your note or not, know that I do love you. Please know that.”

“I love you too,” I assured her. “Now go and show the whole world why.”

I stepped back. Then I noticed what seemed to be a slight inconsistency in the air behind her. Like a bit of a tear in space. This might be the last time I saw her.

And yet, I was briefly distracted by Trixie moving into my peripheral vision. Staring at me suspiciously. I tried to ignore her.

“Okay,” Melissa said, letting out a long breath. “Here it goes.”

She threw her hands out to the sides and looked up into the sky. “Let the balance be restored, and then become attuned to those on Earth… let my power synchronize with the wills and desires of everyone out there… though let me retain my sense of self as take on the mantle of - Libra Magica. ULTIMA RATIO!”

I knew then what it must have been like for Melissa to observe Melody. I dare say that must have been her basis for this spell. Sparks shot out from her, thousands of them, millions, most firing off into the distance, but some seemingly dropping down through the top of the roof.

Attuning themselves to everyone, and feeding the information back to the Chosen One, even as I saw the rip opening larger behind her. She was going to transition.

That’s when Trixie kicked me REALLY hard in the shins.

“OW!” I said, looking over at her in befuddlement.

“You COLOSSAL IDIOT,” she bellowed back at me, hands closed in a pair of fists. “If that’s a ring in your back pocket, you better damn well GIVE IT TO HER BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE!”

Oh yeah. I’d almost proposed again that morning, but I hadn’t gotten up the nerve before Melissa had left the kitchen. I’d figured it would keep until after this was all over.

Now it really was all over. But Melissa herself had said that she didn’t want things to be different between us, not in these last few days, hours, minutes, seconds. Right?

Unless she’d been waiting for the ring.

Trixie kicked me again, and damn it, it hurt. I rounded on her, only for her to jab her finger almost right up my nose. “I SWEAR to GOD, if you don’t move your ass RIGHT NOW James, I am going to turn you into a CHICKEN.”

I’m not sure what it was. Perhaps Trixie had managed to use that tone that gets people to obey without thinking about it. Maybe there’s something about the Virga lineage. Or perhaps it was the chicken reference, which reminded me of the clause in my initial rental agreement with Melissa. But then, maybe I simply didn’t need as much of a nudge as I thought I did.

Before I realized it, I was stepping forward and saying, “Mel!” As her gaze refocused on me, sparks still flying from her body, I pulled the box out of my pocket, opened it, and unexpected words spilled from my lips. “Take me with you!”

Melissa’s hands moved to her mouth as she gasped. “You actually did it. You bought me a…” Her voice sounded like it had a bit of an echo to it. I’m not sure if it trailed off, or if I missed a word.

“Opal. Your birthstone,” I said. Perhaps redundantly, but her body seemed to be growing brighter, and I wasn’t sure she could see. “Mel, this ring means we do these things together.”

“It’s too late,” she protested. “I can’t.”

“Then take the ring at least.”

Her gaze shifted to be one of sheer determination. “No, keep it with you. Remember I love you, and please think of me when –-”

The brightness was so intense now that I found I was forced to blink.

Leaving Trixie and me standing alone on the roof, with Melissa’s unfinished sentence hanging in the air. Gradually, the chain link fence reconstructed itself into iron.

Epilogue:

So that’s everything. You’ve now read the story of how I chose Melissa over my childhood friend, only to lose Mel again before the end of the summer.

I think I’ve now been through the traditional five stages, from denial, when Trixie had to practically drag me off the roof three hours later, to acceptance, that being in the form of writing all of this down. Tomorrow will mark exactly three months since she transitioned. There are only a few little gaps that probably need filling in. Well, plus a massive edit job on this whole tale, but let’s deal with that later.

First, the letter Melissa left for me. It said a lot of what she had stated on the roof, maybe because she hadn’t been sure how long she would have to explain things. Several times, it also said ‘I’m sure I’m not explaining this well but I hope you can understand’. It concluded by saying that she will always love me, even always be a part of me – and added in a small postscript, that I should check in with Amy about her lamp.

I did. It had apparently reverted back to being a knife, some time during the three days following Melissa’s ascension. (I’ll use ascension for lack of a better term.) I’m not sure if that was supposed to mean something, but resuming contact with Amy was something of a comfort. Maybe that had been Mel’s intention?

After all, Amy had seen some of what was out there too, giving me someone to talk to aside from Trixie, and it was Amy’s suggestion that I write all this down. She’d apparently looked up those prior three cases online, and thought that I had a good thing going.

The second thing to mention is our parents. In the end, I think mine understood Melissa’s decision to leave, if not the specifics of the magick involved. My mother in particular I think wanted to deride Mel, but they never did so in my presence, and they haven’t tried to set me up with anyone new in the time since.

As to Melissa’s parents, I think her letters to them explained things much as mine did. They’ve even sort of accepted me into the family, despite Melissa’s ultimate rejection of the ring I’d offered to her. There wasn’t a memorial service per se, since Melissa wasn’t dead, but they invited me to a celebration of her life.

Then finally there’s the actual matter of supernatural balance, and the Agency. The latter remains in my name, but at Trixie’s insistence, she’s become a co-owner on paper, with access to the accounts and everything.

I didn’t see the harm. In theory, there will be fewer cases involving people, as things rebalance. But maybe other witches or beings will find it useful, as they adjust to the new (old?) reality out there.

I’m not sure how long I’ll stay. I haven’t quite worked out my future yet. Part of me thinks I should sell the ring I bought for Melissa and move out of the apartment. Part of me cannot bear to part with it yet, particularly not after Melissa’s last words, and Trixie has insisted I keep it as a reminder, at least for a while yet.

I do still have the option of journalism. Maybe there’s a witch faction that runs a newspaper? Or maybe I’ll turn this into a proper novel. Either way, in the end, I guess I’m just glad I got the chance to tell Melissa’s story.

And you know, maybe, just maybe, if you wish really hard for something, and it’s something that can be balanced out in the grand scheme of things… Melissa will hear you, and it will happen.

Just like magick.

END…?

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 6d: OF MELISSA AND JAMES

I hesitated, largely because I wasn’t sure about Trixie’s state of mind. “Uhm, you know my magick experience is really limited, right?”

Trixie’s smirk was back. “It’s fine. You don’t need any inherent magick for Mixi to see what’s going on in your head.”

“Ah. And you don’t want to eat first? Or shower?”

“Nope. But you can picture me in the shower, if you think that’ll help get your neurons firing, James.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and then her hips.

“Trixie…” Melissa said warningly, though it was almost resigned amusement at this point.

I somehow found my gaze back at Trixie’s chest again. I don’t know how she does it. “Trixie, look, you’re not going to be pulling fetishes out of my head, are you?”

Trixie giggled madly. “Not on a test run, but OOH you’re giving me so much ammunition to potentially tease you with. It’s almost criminal, to take advantage of your naivete this way.”

“Yeah, um, so maybe don’t do that?”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Yes, fine, look, listen. I’m doing an impossible thing that no one’s ever done before. Humour me NOW, before I crash and need to sleep for a day straight.”

I resigned myself to my fate. “Be gentle?”

Trixie laughed once more and dragged me into her room to affix medical patches to my temples. All I really have to say about the process is that it was somewhat long, though not the three hours she’d deemed for the final run. It was also completely painless, and seemed to satisfy Trixie that she’d done what she’d set out to do.

Almost immediately after, the redhead passed out, face down on the floor.

When I finally left Trixie’s room, Melissa was gone. She’d left a sheet of paper on the desk saying she needed some air, and some candles. I toyed with the ring in my pocket for a moment, then went to prepare dinner.

That night, I realized that Melissa seemed to be withdrawing from me. Whether it was a conscious decision on her part or not, I didn’t know, but we remained on opposite sides of the bed.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

The next day, early on, she set up what she needed for her spell in our room. Namely some orbs, candles, and I think the rib of a small animal. She then requested absolute silence for when the technology spell actually took place.

Trixie was still asleep (apparently she hadn’t been kidding about sleeping for a day), while I took the opportunity to go to the main room and look out the window. To see if I could catch the flash when Earth’s entire technology grid was flipped off, then almost immediately back on again.

I’m not going to tell you when this happened. There’s a slim chance that making it public would get Annie in trouble, as I could still say here that her information was a bit off, and Melissa calculated the difference.

I mean, okay, I’ve been changing everyone’s names, so I suppose I could change the time of the event and give you that in the narrative. But it seems rather pointless.

I will tell you that the magick involved ensured that nothing would need to power cycle back up, so maybe it was that moment when your radio cut out, or when your computer seemed to freeze up, or when that light in the hall seemed to flicker as you were preparing for bed.

Two seconds, maybe less. I fancy I saw it, but only because I knew exactly when to look for it.

There were no complications.

By that I mean there was nothing reported in the news related to this. There were complications as far as Melissa was concerned. The most immediate consequence being her emerging from the room looking rather pale.

I quickly got her a glass of water and asked if there was anything I could do to help her out. She shook her head. “It was an eye opening experience, that’s all.”

I paused, then led Melissa out into the hallway, away from any surveillance. I then crouched a bit to look her in the eyes, and made sure she was looking at me before speaking again.

“Mel, this is me you’re talking to. I can tell something has upset you. What’s wrong?”

Her lips grew tight. “It’s that there are cracks,” she said after a moment. “In the fabric of space-time. Which is why other realities knew about me, they caught a hint of the spell I just performed. I also got a sense of…” She shook her head. “I can’t describe it.”

“You mean Merlin?”

Melissa shook her head. “James, please don’t press me on this.”

I nodded. “Okay then. You’re sure there’s nothing more I can do?”

Melissa stared past me for a moment, then refocussed. “I need to see Alicia. I’m suddenly scared that there’s not enough time left to do what I need to do. I swear I’ll tell you if there’s anything you can do to help me with it though, okay?”

She smiled at me then, and leaned in to kiss me. For a moment she sank into it, and into my arms, and seemed to me like things were normal enough.

But when she drew back I saw there was still something lurking behind her gaze. With a quick apology, she was immediately running down the stairs, off to Alicia Wing’s store. I think she would have done so regardless of whether the store was actually open at the moment.

To this day, I’m still not sure what Melissa had really caught sight of during her spell.

There’s a well-known quote by Friedrich Nietzsche that comes to my mind: “Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.”

I hoped Melissa would be all right. Again, I found myself fiddling with the ring inside my pocket.

Two days later, meaning one day short of the big day, I was sure that Trixie knew something too. I called her on it while Melissa was out.

“Don’t keep being an idiot, James,” she retorted. “Your girlfriend wouldn’t tell me anything that she wouldn’t also tell you.”

Something in her tone had me reading between the lines. “Might she have told you something BEFORE telling me though?”

The redhead flinched at that, even looking a bit guilty. “No?”

“Trixie, tell me what you know,” I said, becoming a bit scared. I’m not sure why that had been my first reflex. Can men have intuition too?

“Nothing!” Trixie insisted, only to amend, “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, I have some messages to give to Melissa’s parents after tomorrow.”

“After her Decision Day.”

“Right.”

“Related to the fact that she’s refused to respond to their messages? The ones insisting that the spell worked, and that she can stop worrying about everything?”

I really hadn’t been sure what to make of those. Had Merlin been re-energized? Had he not been, but false flags had been thrown up to make the casters think the spell had worked? Did Melissa need to do something to help him out? Or were Melissa’s parents simply outright lying to her, so that she wouldn’t do anything rash?

Trixie had no answers. “I dunno,” she said, shrugging. “Melissa sealed the content into envelopes.”

I stared at Trixie. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. That was definitely new. “Then do you think the spell her parents were doing worked?”

Trixie sighed. “Damn it, James, I don’t–” She cut herself off. “Look. All I know is Melissa thinks her task is actually greater than ever. She even asked me to try and cut down on the three hour window for her virtual self. Don’t ask me to explain why. I’m tech-girl, she’s the supernatural balance expert.”

“And there’s no problem with Mixi and the neural net?”

Trixie’s expression morphed into something that said to me ‘There bloody well better not be after all the effort I put in’. Her lips merely said, “Nothing I’m aware of.”

I dropped the subject.

In retrospect, I must have been preoccupied. I didn’t pick up on the fact that not once did Trixie call her cousin ‘Missy’ on that day.

Melissa didn’t come to bed that night.

When I saw her the next morning in the kitchen, it didn’t seem like she’d actually slept. On the one hand, this wasn’t unusual, since she never did have a good sense for time of day. On the other hand, shortly after I entered, she headed out of the apartment again. So she had to be avoiding me.

I can’t be certain, but I think that was the night when Melissa wrote the message for me.

Melissa was back by noon, in order to undergo the process of putting her engrams onto Trixie’s neural net. It only occurred to me then that I wasn’t entirely sure how the decision-making process was going to occur.

Somehow I’d visualized Melissa casting a spell, with an image of Merlin appearing and asking for her final answer… and that wasn’t it. Of course, I’m not sure Melissa herself had known until three days prior, as I suspect she would have said something to me otherwise. As it was, she merely said we’d be headed to the roof of the building in a little while.

The roof door was normally kept locked. Obviously not a problem in our case.

Melissa walked out first, holding Mixi. I followed after her, and Trixie hung back behind us. My girlfriend walked all the way to the edge of the building and looked out, through the protective chain link fence that someone had erected. She then turned and let out a long breath.

“Okay James, you deserve this explanation from me in person,” she began. “The choice I’m faced with here is the chaos that would come from magick becoming common, and being wielded against those without consent, versus the strict regimen of magick casting backlash and a severing of ties with other realms.”

I nodded. “I sort of assume you’re looking at the strict regimen though,” I said. “Given how you’ve got Mixi there to implement it.”

She licked her lips. “Yes and no. Thing is, while the latter system might have worked 1500 years ago, I’ve been forced to conclude that it needs updating. All systems must change to adapt to the changing times, I know that now. And Merlin, if we still refer to the originator of the system that way, was aware of this possibility. In fact, the more recent shifting in the supernatural balance hasn’t been due to corruption, or lack of energy. It’s come from two other things.”

“Powerful things, I presume,” Trixie said from behind me. “Given how that chain link fence seems to be morphing into cheddar cheese or something before our eyes.”

Melissa glanced back over her shoulder only briefly. “That’s blowback from what’s about to happen. In retrospect, the proximity of me and other Chosen might have been a catalyst for a couple of the more curious incidents. Like Amy’s lamp. As to the two things being powerful, I suppose that depends on your point of view.”

“These are the things you saw during that fraction of a second when we didn’t have technology, isn’t it,” I divined.

Melissa nodded. “Correct. The first thing is the fact that there are now several billion more people on Earth than there once were. It makes tracking the flow of magick more difficult. The second thing, even more problematic, is how the original system doesn’t understand how to adjust for all our scientific advancements. It seemed immensely relieved for that one second when it didn’t have to.”

“So the Internet really is a problem.”

Melissa ran her fingers back through her hair. “Not a problem. An additional variable. That’s what I really didn’t understand until a couple of days ago. How much the system needs to be updated.”

I exchanged a glance with Trixie.

“Fine, I’ll ask her for you,” Trixie said, reading something in my expression. She stepped up next to me. “Melissa, if you’ve known for a couple days, why only tell us all the details now?”

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 6c: OF MELISSA AND JAMES

Gardening struck me as being a new hobby for her, and I said as much.

Annie grinned. “Yup!” she asserted. “That’s my new thing, been growing my own herbs, along with plants and flowers. Selling some of them too, as the couple years since graduating haven’t been good for finding stable work. Particularly since I prefer non-technological jobs. But I get the occasional contract here and there to make ends meet.”

“You’ve kept up with spells too,” Melissa said with a measure of surprise. “I wondered if you might have given that up, to try and keep from being discovered again.”

Annie put her hands on her hips. “Okay, spill. How did you know I was casting?”

Melissa shrugged. “No deduction, per se. Not even a scent. Just a vibe. From you, from Tabby, even from the plants.”

“Ah." Annie adopted a more neutral pose. “Well, and I did avoid it while I was still in school,” she replied, “But once I was done, and then unemployed for six months with no interest in pursing personal relationships, I needed some other ways to fill my time. Plus I was hopeful of there being a good job interview spell or something. Instead, I latched on to communications.”

“Communications?” I wondered. “Are there magick phones or something?”

Annie chuckled. “Not that I know of. But that brings me to why I wanted you to drop by. I need your opinion on something.”

After pulling down the shade on her window, she ushered us over to her kitchen table, where she had laid out what looked like some homemade variant on the ouija board.

Melissa was immediately walking around it, crouching down to see it at eye level, and standing on her tiptoes to get an overall sense of it.

“You’ve been trying to contact other realms,” she concluded at last. “Surprisingly professional setup. Did you search the web for this?”

“No, I still avoid the web for magick,” Annie admitted. “It’s my grandma who gave me some advice. We’ve connected more since my graduation, and my growing interest in spells. She told me that I had to be very careful not to create an open connection, and that I had to have a sense of where I was going to be transmitting. I’ve been pretty careful.”

Melissa tilted her head to the side, as if she was trying to divine exactly to whom Annie had been speaking. “So you’ve been talking to…?”

“An elf.”

Melissa nodded. “Right, makes sense. This flow is connected to that weak point at the North Pole.”

As to me, I was startled. “Hold on. There’s actual elves at the North Pole?”

“No, no,” Melissa said, gesturing vaguely as she continued to admire the setup. “Though that was a logical place for their realm to gain access, as a number of regular humans already have the belief of elves existing up there, even though the elves they picture are very different from the real thing.”

“So they don’t have pointed hats and help Santa,” I reasoned. “Are they more like Tolkein elves then? Because I only ever saw the movies.”

“They are long lived, and can be beautiful, but are mostly my height, with no dark vision,” Melissa said idly. She turned her attention back to Annie. “Who is it you’re talking to then? While most elves aren’t evil per se, a number can be particularly mischievous.”

Annie smirked. “Iantneth has a similar opinion of humans. I really only speak with her about fashion, relationships, daily life stuff – though she’s been instructing me a little on how to grow better herbs.”

“Aha, that explains the magic I sensed from the plants,” Melissa concluded.

“So, be straight with me. This seems safe and all?” Annie said, hesitantly. “I mean, I’ve spoken to my grandma about it, and sent pictures, but it never hurts to have a second opinion from someone in the know who’s actually here.”

Melissa looked once more under the table, then stood up and shrugged. “I don’t see any problems with this. Have you noticed anything strange?”

Annie breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, I noticed a pine tree had morphed into an oak tree last week, only a block away. I figured it was unrelated, but…” She gestured vaguely.

Melissa pursed her lips, then nodded. “I have been aware of a few incidents like that of late. Don’t worry, it’s not you. We’re approaching a sort of supernatural turning point.”

I was reminded then of Melissa’s knife turning into Amy’s lamp three months ago. “Could talking to other realms be upsetting supernatural balance even more though?” I wondered. “Not exclusive to Annie, I mean.”

Melissa shook her head. “No, the balancing issues are related to the weak points that these devices exploit. It’s those areas which can allow entities though, and these visitors cause much more of a problem than what’s more akin to a radio transmission.”

I nodded. “Meaning, going after communication tools is a bit like shaming someone for not using a reusable bag, when the plastics industry is really at the core of things.”

“I guess?” Melissa mused. “Except it’s more like you’re reusing a plastic bag in the first place. Things won’t get worse than they are already.”

“A-Am I doing a bad thing then?” Annie asked. “Because I’m getting confused.”

Melissa waved Annie off. “No, no, you’re fine. This setup isn’t even electronic at all, is it?”

Annie shook her head. “Nope.”

“Okay. So do you use electronics at all?” Melissa pressed. “To the point where your grandmother might have told you when NOT to use them next week?”

Annie now looked very confused, which led to me jumping in with an explanation of the problem we were facing. I left out the Chosen One aspect, playing up the secret spell part, and wrapped it up by remarking, “Ideally we’d want you to find out the time without making it clear that that’s what you’re asking.”

Annie pressed her index finger to the side of her mouth. “Funny you say that. Iantneth said there would be some sort of disturbance in our realm coming up, so I can use that as a basis. I was planning on driving around town next week on another job hunt too… so yeah, I can probably get Grandma Lindy to spill something.”

“I’d need the exact second,” Melissa reminded.

Annie nodded. “After your help back in University, I’ll see what I can do. And if it doesn’t pan out, I’ll try to let you know sooner rather than later.”

“We appreciate that,” I said, reaching out to shake her hand. “And hey, let us know what herbs it is you’re selling, in case we need a supply of anything.”

Annie grinned. After a few more quick pleasantries, and Melissa declining the offer of home brewed tea, we headed on our way. I sensed she was turning a new thought around in her mind, and called her on it shortly thereafter.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“Well,” Melissa admitted. “It occurs to me that with the balance fully back in place, and the other realms cut off, potentially beneficial conversations like the one between Annie and Iantneth would be lost as well.”

“Ah. Throwing the baby out with the bath water?”

“Not quite so crude, and we do need a way of preventing the bad from getting worse. But it makes me wonder about loopholes… would Trixie’s AI be able to handle those, even with my engrams?”

“It might depend on whether it was something you’d thought of before they got mapped,” I reasoned. “Do you think many would come up?”

“I don’t know. I’m realizing more and more that there’s a lot I don’t know.”

“Maybe some of the literature from the rational faction could help,” I quipped.

Melissa made a face. “I tuned out a lot of the faction stuff. This sort of decision calls for an opinion that hasn’t been biased one way or the other, after all.” She paused. “I guess it’s harder to ignore the occasional benefit when you see it in person, that’s the only problem. Makes me wonder if there’s a lot of others like Annie out there, who need to see that there’s a good side to being a witch.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I simply let the matter drop.

We heard back from Annie within 48 hours; she was able to give Melissa the precise timing that she needed. It would be early in the morning, three days before Decision Day. That is, the day her final decision would need to be rendered… assuming the reinforcement spell failed, which Melissa was certain would happen.

Melissa started to prepare for her own spell. Me, I got a ring, and decided to propose to Melissa one day before all of that went down.

Unfortunately, while I had the ring, and some phrasing in my mind, what I didn’t have was control over the other circumstances surrounding me.

It happened about five minutes before I felt I’d have the nerve to drop down on one knee, as Melissa sat looking over some papers at the main desk. Guess I should have been braver. As it was, the delay meant Trixie’s door burst open first. She bounced out, and practically off the walls, she was bursting with such enthusiasm.

“It’s DONE,” Trixie shrieked. “I DID it. I am like a TECH GODDESS, ha ha ha!”

“The artificial Melissa?” I said, startled. “I didn’t think you’d be ready for another day or two.”

Trixie grinned at me. “I haven’t slept in a while. That helped.” She bounded back into her room, then emerged, holding up what might have once been an iPhone. “The new Rixi is ready! I shall call her Mixi. Missy, I’ll need you for a couple hours now, to deal with the memory engram side of things.”

I fidgeted with the ring still in my pocket. “Um, Trixie, you don’t want to sleep first?” I suggested.

Trixie’s hair was rumpled, to the point that she had a single twintail, versus a ponytail. One of her knee high stockings had fallen nearly to her ankle and she’d made no attempt to correct it, and as to the rest of her clothing, I could see stains from either sweat or drool, which was completely out of character for her. She had definitely been pushing herself.

“Nope!” Trixie chirped. “I am SO ready to put this to the test. To cement my brilliance in the history books. Today’s the day, James! So, Missy? Let’s get to it.”

Melissa hadn’t even looked up yet. “It will have to wait until after tomorrow’s spell.”

The redhead’s gaze took on a slightly murderous tinge off Melissa’s casual response. “Are. You. FUC–”

“It’s not that we don’t appreciate EVERYTHING you’ve done, Trixie,” I cut in swiftly. “And the fact that you have things ready in advance of your own timelines is amazing, particularly in light of some of the challenges that you’ve been telling us about along the way. It’s just, I think Melissa needs some time herself now in order to get more in tune with the spell she needs to cast herself.”

Of course, there was also the matter of my proposal, though given Melissa’s reaction to Trixie, I was fast thinking I might want to hold off on my revelation as well.

“It’s not a matter of tuning,” Melissa said idly. She looked up for the first time then, and sucked in her lower lip briefly as she diagnosed Trixie’s expression. “Of course, what you’ve done is AMAZINGLY AWESOME, and worthy of praise.” Her gaze shifted from Trixie to me. “People still say ‘awesome’, yes?”

“Ugh, forget it,” Trixie said in exasperation, flopping down onto the couch and throwing her shoulders back. “It’s enough that I’ve done it, that James appreciates it, and that you’re not lashing out at me for being smug. Adding extra flattery on top would be weird, particularly when it sounds like it might be sincere. That’s not the Missy I know and love.”

Melissa half smiled. “I may still get you a cake. Or some cheesecake. The thing is, the new memories I’ll be gaining in the next day or two may be critical for decision making on the part of your device. I don’t want there to be any chance of corruption between my mindset now, and what my mindset might be like on the day I have to decide.”

Trixie crinkled her nose cutely. “No biggie, I can wipe the engrams if necessary. It’s a feature, for testing purposes. Though I grant that would be easier to do with a completely different person.”

“Meaning you could test it on yourself for now?" Melissa checked.

The redhead crossed her arms. “Playing to my vanity? Mmm, I’ll allow it. But honestly, as a test run, it’d be better for me to have a measure of separation from the data." She turned to me, and grinned almost wickedly. “So I’ll co-opt James. Then purge and overwrite with yours later, Missy. Speaking of, what kind of waiting period are we talking about here?”

Melissa ran her fingers back through her hair. “How much time do you need, from starting to pull in my memories, to complete implementation? Bare minimum.”

Trixie looked back. “For serious? Bare minimum? Three hours. But that would cut it awful close, and it would be better to allow for the case of needing a reset.”

“I’ll try to give you more time,” Melissa concluded. “Though it seems like, the closer we get to the event, the more I’m starting to doubt myself, wondering if I’ve missed an alternative along the way. Please bear with me?”

She smiled, a bit sadly it seemed to me.

I decided that today was definitely not the day to propose.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 6b: OF MELISSA AND JAMES

Melissa shook her head. “I have no doubt she could do it, but I don’t want to distract Trixie at this point. She’s got less than two weeks to finalize her work on the neural net. Besides, I need to know the spell’s exact time, down to the second. It won’t be easy for her to get that precise.”

I thought again. “Your parents might have it written down somewhere. If we were to visit them again, I could distract them, while you look.”

“They’d see through that,” Melissa sighed. “And I’d probably end up arguing with them even more, which I’d rather not do.”

“Since you might storm out in a huff?”

She attempted to elbow me in the ribs. “One time, ONE time I act immature in front of them, and you’re there, so you’ll never let me forget about it, huh? No, it’s that my Mom is pretty stubborn, so even presenting a proper case to her now will be pointless. Stooping to the level of subterfuge, that would not fly at all."

“Fair enough,” I said. “So maybe you can try your case on someone else? Trixie’s parents? Other witches?”

Melissa clasped her hands behind her back as she spoke. “Except then I might have to get into the whole Chosen One situation. I don’t think it’s wise to mention the spell to anyone who doesn’t already know about it. In part because other witches might not like that I… I’m starting to have second thoughts about my unilateral decision to restore supernatural balance.”

I stopped walking. “Really?”

She also stopped and looked at me. “Really. Is that so strange?”

“Sort of,” I admitted. “I mean, you cut right to the heart of the matter in the beginning, and you don’t usually second guess yourself.”

“It’s not second guessing so much as realizing I might not have had all the data I needed to form my conclusion in the first place. In particular, Merlin’s take on everything. Hence, wanting the spell information.”

“Huh.”

I resumed walking, and she again fell into step beside me. “I guess this doesn’t make much sense to you,” she said after a moment.

“No, it kinda does," I reassured her. “I was just thinking of more alternatives. And while there’s only four witches aside from your mother involved in the re-energizing spell, there must be TONS dealing with the tech problem. Can’t we track down one of them specifically? See what their calendar looks like in the couple days before Decision Day?”

“Kind of? There are a few names I’m aware of. Thing is, I don’t personally know any of them. Aside from the one in France, whom I vaguely recall from a fancy dinner when I was young. And with him, I wouldn’t know how to get in touch without my parents finding out. While for anyone else, being contacted out of the blue would simply be suspicious.”

“Someone geographically closer would be best,” I granted. “We could maybe sneak into their place when they weren’t around.”

“Again with the subterfuge, I hate to resort to that. Of course, two weeks doesn’t even give me the time to figure out where they all are, and then do further research to narrow down which ones might be sympathetic to me if we’re caught.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. This was definitely as big of a problem as she’d thought. “Can we play the odds? I mean, the majority of witches casting this anti-tech spell, they’d be older, yeah? Against new inventions? Maybe we can use that to narrow things down.”

Melissa frowned. “James, that’s ageist. Who’s to say they’re not younger? In fact, the older witches and wizards might not properly recognize some of today’s tech.”

“Oh. I figured the spell would be doing the recognition.”

Melissa rubbed her nose. “Another good point, I don’t know the exact spell involved here. Agh, if only my parents would simply TELL me!”

“Okay, calm down,” I soothed. “Consider, we can at least eliminate the techno-witches as casters. I mean, can you honestly see someone like Trixie willingly participating in a spell to cut technology out of her life, even for a second? Imagine if something went wrong, and they couldn’t get it back! Chaos!”

The brunette witch smirked. “Possible point. But that really doesn’t narrow things down. There’s a lot of witch groups.”

“Okay, let’s turn it around then. How many of the other groups might be friends with techno-witches, and inclined to give them vague warnings. Like ‘Bad idea to use your technological devices at a particular time on this day’ sort of thing.”

Melissa stopped to lean back against the nearest building. “That’s a good line of reasoning. Slightly modified, since a witch would be more inclined to warn a family member, versus another member of another group.”

“Okay, great. So now we’ve got something.”

Melissa grimaced. “All we’ve done is trade the problem of tracking the spell casters for the problem of tracking their families. It’s no easier.”

“No, see, we don’t try to track the families down,” I countered. “We go the other way. We check for witches and other people we know in the area, possibly through our old case files, and then see which of them are most likely to be connected back up the line to the technological spell casters on your list.”

Melissa tilted her head. “Bit of a long shot.” She smiled. “But it’s a good line of reasoning, and one that I hadn’t considered. Thanks, James. Let’s try it.”

I waved my hand in the air and made a slight bowing motion. “Any time.”

We resumed our walk. Melissa seemed to be heading in a circle back towards our apartment, implying to me that she hadn’t really had a destination in mind, she’d only wanted to have the conversation. So I decided to bring up the other topic on my mind.

“So, uh, by the way, I looked more into the idea of a Chosen One getting married,” I admitted.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Melissa nearly stumbled in her walk. “Yes. Right, sorry, I hadn’t forgotten about that issue either.”

“It’s merely been lower priority?”

Melissa winced. “Don’t put it like that. There’s been a lot on my mind. I actually need to prepare my own communication spell to run at the same time as the tech shuts down.”

“Right, I get it,” I yielded. “Thing is, Zamboni and his priest friend were gambling on their service being at a particular time, using I suspect a particular set of phrases. There really isn’t anything to prevent you being married, if that was something you were still interested in doing.”

Melissa said nothing at first. Then, “Okay, so honestly? The more I thought about it, the more I figured what would come after a promise of an engagement is an actual ring. So if you’ve done the research into it being okay, I mean, you already know I love you and all, so, ah… I guess the next move is yours? Unless I’ve missed a social cue.”

I’m sure I flinched. “That’s… a really good point. I’m sorry. I guess I just… I’m sorry.”

Melissa looked at me again. “You thought that now might not be the best time? Because engagements can last for years, you know. Unless you’d wanted to get married next week? Since that would be more of an issue.”

“No, no, I don’t mean to rush this,” I insisted. “It was more like, I guess I wondered if there were certain magick aspects that I had to make sure to follow through on, given our particular circumstances. Uh, seems not?”

Melissa looked away. “In the end, I really am still just a regular girl.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s true. I’m sorry.”

Melissa shook her head. “Stop apologizing. I mean, sure, there are little things to know. Like, I’m keeping my last name. That’s a simple witch truth, we do it even if legal documents pretend to say otherwise. But there’s nothing to stop… that is, don’t let my situation keep you from acting like you normally would. Okay?”

“Right.”

I felt like I’d really messed things up this time. Not sure what else to say, we finished the walk back to the apartment in silence. I resolved to find Melissa a ring.

That night, Melissa came up with a short list of possible casters for the tech spell, which we could cross-reference with our files and local supernatural individuals. The name Lindy Sermo struck a chord almost right away. It took another day before I was able to find the link.

It was an old case, very old. The second one I’d been involved with, in fact. And I hadn’t been there when the lineage spell in question had been performed, I’d only seen the paper after the fact. But the page was still there, in our files.

I showed it to Melissa the next morning, when we went for another walk.

“Lineage spell,” was her first remark, glancing at the page. “Given names, the proper ingredients, and the permission of the person involved, you can track the origin of certain genetic qualities. Such as witchcraft. How does this old sheet help us?”

I pointed at the name at the top, one Annie Potts. “We know her.” And then my finger traced two generations back, to Lindy Sermo.

Melissa stared. “I’ll be darned,” she realized. “You’re right. I would never have made that connection. Annie’s mother never wanted to practice, didn’t even keep her last name. So the magick information was never passed on to Annie, and she also took her father’s name. Good work, James.”

“Thank my memory,” I remarked. “Also, in a sense, Annie’s ex-boyfriend, who had created that online file, which acted as a beacon for the spirits to go after Annie herself, bringing her to us.”

“Let’s NOT thank him,” Melissa corrected. “Even if he was Odi et Amo.”

For your reference, Annie had been a victim of stalking by an Internet entity, who had sensed her spell casting potential. Annie - who must have sensed her own capabilities too, based on her cat and choice of reading material - had ultimately helped in casting the spell to vanquish the entity.

“The only question is whether Annie and her grandmother are close,” I concluded.

Melissa chewed on her lower lip. “They can’t have been that close back then,” she deduced. “Since Lindy never spoke to Annie about magick prior to her association with us. But perhaps, if Annie decided to continue doing witchcraft on the side afterwards…?”

“I figured there was no harm in looking her up and asking.”

Melissa nodded. “Agreed. As I recall, she was a year ahead of me… except she wasn’t keen on technology either, thus probably won’t be easy to track on the web. One might hope she’s still in this city, of course.”

I nodded. “I didn’t turn up anything on an initial search. I thought I’d talk to you before checking in with Trixie’s bag of, er, tricks.”

“Mmm. Unless finding the spell itself, this should be a simple enough job for Trixie, if she’s not at a critical point in her studies. Rather than disturb her unexpectedly, do you know if she still surfaces to eat?”

I considered the last few days. “Eat, yes. Though I’m less sure about her showering, and I think she even had some of your shrimp and asparagus soufflé the other night without complaint.”

“She must be getting close, it’s making her more manic,” Melissa mused. “I’ll see if I can turn up anything first.”

Melissa got a list of a few ‘A Potts’ from the online phone book, which she planned to call the next morning. I happened to see Trixie later that day, wearing the same cropped top, skirt and stockings that she’d been wearing for two days. I mentioned the situation, in passing.

Trixie apparently was pleased to have an easy diversion for a few hours, as the next day, one of the names was circled in red with a smiley face next to the phone number.

We were in luck. Annie didn’t mind the call “to check in”, even if it was years later.

Okay, so she was briefly concerned about there being some new entity in the area that might menace her, and I slipped up in terms of saying it was Melissa’s Agency, but once we got past all that, Annie was more than happy to invite us to drop by to talk.

And by that I mean she said she wanted Melissa to take a look at something. So we headed right over that afternoon.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 6a: OF MELISSA AND JAMES

“Our time’s up,” Melody said, stepping away and cracking her knuckles. “Move fast, I’m not sure Mortum will survive this, and there is a non-zero chance that his death will cause the castle to crumble.”

“Oh, good,” Melissa sighed, as she adjusted the strap of her bag.

The door was thrown open, and Mortum himself stood there, flanked by a few zombies, and looking seriously pissed off. “You bitches,” he snarled. “Any last words before I blast you both into dust?!”

“Two,” Melody stated. She threw her arms out at a forty five degree angle. “Ultima ratio.”

Sparks seemed to fly from her body then, energy sparks, as if she were being electrocuted. Her body even twitched, as the light show passed out through the walls, not unlike Melissa’s tracking sphere had done before. This time with more sparks being generated by Melody’s body to replace them.

Mortum, seemingly unimpressed, lowered a staff he was carrying, pointing it at the witch like a weapon.

The zombi next to him reached out and pushed the staff back up.

Mortum turned in surprise to look the zombi in the eyes. Then he realized he actually WAS looking said zombi in the eyes, and not staring at the blank look he was used to. According to Melissa, Mortum first seemed confused, then scared. Then very scared.

“Braiiiins,” the zombi whispered, finally able to speak on its own.

Melissa judged that was the most opportune time to duck down and push past the group. She fled without looking back, encountering more than a few dead and undead bodies moving in the opposite direction, under their own power. Whether they were homing in on Mortum, or on Melody’s light show, she wasn’t sure, nor did she particularly care.

Her destination was the circle of salt on the turret, and safety. She destroyed the circle on our end as soon as she arrived.

I leaned back in the desk chair. “So you think Melody survived? And saw that Doctor?”

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Melissa sighed. “Probably? I hope so.” She circled her shoulder around and then put her ice pack back on it. “Remind me never to ram into doors again.”

“Never ram into doors again,” Trixie chirped. She was lying on the couch, chin resting in her hands as she kicked her legs back in the air. “I’d make another Doctor Who reference too, but neither of you would get it.”

Yes, in the end, Trixie hadn’t gone out to find herself a date for the night, electing to wait with me for Melissa’s return. Perhaps handling the factions and the explosion had given her enough of a rush, or perhaps she was turning over a new leaf after learning about Zamboni. I still can’t read her very well.

Melissa looked over at the redheaded witch. “I’ll save an exasperated remark at you for a later occasion, on a day when you didn’t recently comport yourself with aplomb.”

We had given Melissa the rundown on events here, before she told us her story. In case there was any sort of immediate fallout from the failed marriage to deal with, though it was seeming less and less likely.

“Do you think using big words means I won’t realize that’s a compliment?” Trixie asked, grinning. “Also, apology accepted for being a jerk to me earlier.”

Melissa simply half smiled back before looking back at me. “I wonder if the factions will resume devouring their own tails now. Or better yet, decide I’m untouchable."

I ran a hand back through my hair. “They’ll definitely think twice about messing with the Agency, at least. And by extension, you."

Melissa nodded. “That’s good.” She paused. “And in the end, they were right. The evening was a turning point for me. In that I figured out why my parents’ spell will fail.”

I blinked. “Right, so you said. What was that about, exactly?”

“What Melody said to me. About the will of the zombies.”

I searched my memory for when that might have occurred in the story she had told me. “You mean the bit about wanting a break after being forced to do something for a long, long time?”

“And lashing out at anyone who doesn’t give it to you, yeah. Because I’m thinking Merlin or whoever needs a break. Giving him more power to last longer won’t help in that case, particularly if someone’s already tried casting this spell at him in the past.”

“Guess we should start thinking of a plan B, huh?” I joked, looking to Trixie.

To be clear, the three of us had all been pretty careful not to link Trixie’s neural net project with Melissa’s prophecy decision, just in case word got out, and people tried to prevent Trixie’s efforts. So we were pretty confident in our backup plan.

“We might want a plan C,” Melissa murmured then, which surprised me.

“Hey! I’m going to manage this virtual Missy thing for you,” Trixie said, sitting up. “Granted, I’m a still wee bit hazy on doing it in the necessary time frame, but don’t write me off so quick, damn it.”

Melissa shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No?” Trixie looked back and forth between Melissa and me. “Oh, fine, fine, hint taken to leave the room and get back to work.”

“Melissa wouldn’t hint,” I pointed out. “You don’t need to leave.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “I’m going off your expression more than anything, James.” She pushed herself up off the couch. “You two talk. Because you both have stuff to say that the other person needs to hear. And I do want to work more before I sleep.”

With a grin reminiscent of the time she’d left me alone with Amy, Trixie went back to her room and closed the door.

Melissa cleared her throat. “Well, and Trixie’s not wrong. Because here’s the problem, other realms have now come up a couple of times. Except when my virtual self picks supernatural balance, they’re supposed to be cut off. So how could that Culicinae vampyre have known about me and my family?”

I decided to go with Melissa’s topic, even as I parsed what Trixie had meant in my case. About our relationship. “He’d been in our world for a while,” I reminded. “Could have researched.”

“Virga is hardly the first thing he’d feel like looking up,” Melissa insisted. “No, the only possibility that occurs to me is that we’re coming up on an event that’s so cataclysmic, its effects reverberate back through time across neighbouring realities. Which may simply be the decision, but could also be our methodology for it.”

“That’s unsettling. Could things go that wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Melissa shifted her ice pack. “Maybe I’m overreacting. But it’s why I’m considering a plan C.”

I looked at her for a moment. “Well, we’ve still got some time to figure it out.”

“Some.” The brunette tugged lightly on an errant strand of her hair. “I need to revise my last resort spell too, I think. That will take a bit of time.”

“What? Why, what’s wrong with the one you have?” It occurred to me then that I didn’t even know what was involved in the spell she already had – there had never been an occasion for her to use it.

“Things change. Another feeling I have.”

“All right, well, let me know if I can help.”

“I will. Don’t worry, it won’t be like it was with the zombies.”

Melissa smiled, then lapsed back into silent thought. Since it was probably verging on 2am by this point, I almost left her that way, but given how Trixie had alluded to the other issue, I couldn’t get the marriage idea out of my head. Except, how to approach it?

She seemed to sense my hesitation after a few minutes, looking back at me. “Sorry, something else?”

“No,” I said automatically. Then, “Actually, yes.” I reached back to rub the back of my neck, suddenly wondering if I should have delayed this talk until I’d gone out to buy a ring or something.

“The marriage thing,” I finally blurted out. “Part of me wonders if I should propose to you right now, but another, larger part of me doesn’t want that sort of personal element to mess up your psyche at this rather critical time. In particular if it would make you lose your Chosen status somehow. So, I won’t. Unless, I should. Um, I love you.”

I think I botched that rather completely.

Her cheeks began to tinge red. “I… I love you too. You know that. But wow, marriage? We’re not even twenty-five yet.”

“Too soon, right. Sorry.”

She quickly shook her head. “Oh, I don’t mean… that is, I never really saw myself as the marrying type until I was at LEAST that old. But then, I never pictured that I’d be in line to choose the fate of the supernatural until I was over twice that age. So I’m not sure what to – wait, James, was that actually a proposal?”

Her expression implied worry over not reading me properly. Honestly though, I wasn’t sure what I meant either. “I think it was a promise of a proposal. I mean, as crazy as Zamboni’s scheme was, it did get me thinking. About us.”

“I see. And you’re thinking that you’d want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

I looked at her again, seeing how tired and exhausted she was after her overseas encounters, and yet how she was still beautiful despite that. How she was so much better looking than any other girl I’d ever met. And I thought about how I wished I could have been there for her, doing something when she was being attacked. I might well have sacrificed myself so that she could have escaped unharmed.

Of course, all that I actually managed to say in response was, “Yeah.”

It must have come across sincerely though, since Melissa’s face was definitely red now as she looked away. “Golly. That’s the nicest thing anyone… but it’s probably something we should revisit when this Prophecy stuff is over. Right? I mean, for all I know, the worship faction put a whammy on you out there.”

“It’s not that.”

She turned back to me, looking adorably flustered. “I know. Trying to make a joke. Came out lame. My sense of humour is still a work in progress.”

I smiled back at her. “It is late. Promise we’ll revisit this within the next three weeks, at least?”

Melissa nodded. “I’d like that.”

I nodded back and started to turn away, only to have her drop her ice pack, approach me, and pull me into a rather passionate kiss.

I was more than happy to oblige. In fact, by the time she pulled back, my hands had started to wander. “I’m too overwhelmed to enjoy this now,” she rasped near my ear.

I squeezed. “I reserve the right to pick up here later.”

She smiled. “Mmm hmm.”

We were late to breakfast the next morning.

The very next day, we returned Alicia’s orb. It occurred to me that she’d known about the turning point too, but I had no idea whether she’d manipulated the situation with Melissa to take advantage of the situation. She was even more cagey than usual, so I don’t think we’ll ever get an answer there.

Another week passed, uneventfully. I went by the park at one point, but aside from some efforts to repair the gazebo, presumably by the city, I didn’t see anything there of concern. Only the more devout faction members were lingering, and they didn’t seem to have a plan.

It was the following Monday that Melissa suggested to me that we go for a quick stroll. I accepted. She got to the point right away, and it wasn’t about the marriage situation. “I think my parents have been listening in on us again. Somehow.”

I frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“I contacted them,” Melissa admitted. “Because I wanted to know when they were planning to run their ‘suspend technology on Earth’ spell. And they wouldn’t tell me.”

“Oh. Well, is there a reason we need to know that?”

Melissa grimaced. “That’s the same question they asked. And yes, there is, because the loss of tech would give me the chance to be more in tune with the supernatural, possibly even Merlin himself.”

“Oh,” I repeated. “So, what, do they believe we’re going to use that time to implement the results of Trixie’s efforts?”

“That’s what I wonder,” Melissa said. “They certainly know we’re at cross purposes. Mom went so far as to imply that I wanted to sabotage their spell, and gave me a whole lecture about knowing what’s best for me.”

“That must have been fun.”

“Oh yeah.” She looked up at me. “So, I’m going to need your help, to figure out the details of their spell, without them knowing.”

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 5e: OF ZOMBIES AND ZEALOTS

The tracking spell, which had been laying dormant in the orb room behind them, was sparked into action one last time. It immediately ballooned out, the little glowing sphere’s radius increasing exponentially fast as it passed right through the walls, through the floor, ever expanding until it made contact with Melissa herself. Then, having located it’s mistress, it enveloped her and collapsed back down, taking her along with it.

Fortunately, only physical forms could be pulled right through the wall, not the Zombi spirit presence. The distance was also only good for a radius of about ten metres, which was why Melissa hadn’t tried that from the start.

Melissa could practically hear Mortum’s roar of rage through the stone. But she wasn’t done yet.

Reaching again into her bag, she pressed another scroll against where the door seemed to be on this side, the twin of the one she had put up earlier. Ensuring that the mechanism would not function either way. Which would give her, she judged, between three and five minutes.

She then extended her hand, palm up, and made a small spark arc between her pinkie and thumb, looking towards the other occupant of the room. “Do you need a zapping?”

“No,” Melody said slowly, rubbing her palm against her temples. “No, I think I’m finally clear of it. How did you know that ripping me away with that spell as the zombi spirit tried to jump, would clear it from both of us?”

“I didn’t,” Melissa said frankly. “I wasn’t even sure you’d be caught in the field. But I was on a tight timeline and had made the tracker spell generic to witchcraft, as opposed to my unique witch scent, so there was a chance. Figured I might as well try. Seeing as even you didn’t deserve that fate.”

“Lovely. Was it also a guess that you’d be able to talk and perhaps subdue me once you got out of that room?”

Melissa shook her head. “That, no. I knew your area spells were confined to the throne room. I tested it early on by clearing my throat just the other side of the entranceway.”

“Aha. Clever.”

“I know.” Melissa lowered her hand. “Though I’m glad I don’t have to zap you. Invoking that emergency measure has severely depleted my casting ability. I’m not ashamed to admit that you nearly had me… I don’t remember the last time I felt that vulnerable.” She moved to start poking around the chests in the room to find the orb.

Melody pursed her lips. “For spells, I can back you up temporarily.”

“I’d hoped. Going to escape with me too?”

Melody sighed. “No. Thing is, I’m here voluntarily.”

Melissa blanched, turning back. “Are you INSANE?”

“Possibly,” Melody said with a half smile. “But oddly enough, I did this because of you."

At first, the explosion only expanded out as far as the scrolls on the gazebo posts, scorching the interior. But then, with nowhere else to go, the force was directed upwards, to the roof. Where I had placed no scrolls. So kind of a big mistake.

“No, no, nooooooo,” Trixie/Melissa said. And while there was a tinge of panic to her voice, I interpreted the cry as more of a command than a scared shriek. She seemed to be spinning one hand in the air.

Moments after the top of the gazebo popped up, before any flames could burst out, it spun back down. Once again containing the burning fireball. The fire continued to blaze brightly for two or three more seconds, before fizzling out, I presume due to a lack of oxygen.

Trixie/Melissa lowered her hands. The pieces of paper ceased their glowing. The roof of the structure completely collapsed, leaving everything as a smoking ruin.

There was a moment of silence.

“I DID it,” Trixie/Melissa said, fist pumping into the air. “Variable sided containment. First try. Take THAT, Missy! Ha ha ha!” She began to dance around on one foot.

“Missy?” Zamboni questioned, looking towards the witch.

Trixie/Melissa froze, then looked at me, I shrugged, and she made a few canceling gestures to restore her actual appearance. Zamboni was caught off guard, and fell silent. Or possibly it was the look of Trixie’s original clothing as she jutted out her hip that silenced him, I don’t know.

“Fac ut gaudeam?” I asked of the redhead. It hadn’t been the phrase I’d used to cue her.

“Yeah, we can tag whatever we like onto that particular spell,” Trixie explained. “And roof aside, I’ll admit, that was a good plan. Lucky that I’d sometimes listen when Missy droned on about you, and so I realized what you were talking about, hm?”

“No,” the priest said, having fallen to his knees. “No, this is not possible. I checked all the variables. For whatever reason, the Chosen One was at her most vulnerable right now! I knew we could take her power through marriage, we had merely to…" He jabbed his finger out at Trixie. “How are you not Melissa?! I verified her presence, I went so far as to determine her unique magick scent, and I sense it here with us, even now!”

Trixie looked towards the priest. “You do, huh? Well, you know how anyone who gets real close to a witch, and doesn’t have a magick odor of their own, ends up giving off a stronger version of that same scent?”

“Yes, but it takes years for someone to…” His voice trailed off. And he looked at me.

Trixie also turned. “Actually, priest here raises a good point, James. If you’ve been having sex with Missy to the point where you can apparently fool the church with her odour, maybe you SHOULD propose already.”

I became flustered. I didn’t feel like raising my sex life was very fair in front of an audience.

“H-Hey!” I objected. “It’s spell proximity that does it, not sex. At least, Melissa said it can be transmitted without sex, and I can’t even pick up on this scent thing, and Melissa merely gets all enigmatic about it when I ask. Can we not do this here? I mean, this guy isn’t even a real priest.”

“Ahem, I really am,” the priest said in annoyance. “The marriage needed to be valid.”

“Yeah, he’s a wizard priest who guaranteed me either a magick wedding or a spectacular suicide that would put me in the history books,” Zamboni put in, finally finding his voice. He began undoing his bow tie. “You said there was no way they’d identify the bomb, dude. What happened to your mystic cloaking whatever?”

“Obviously it’s working, the factions were baffled,” the priest shot back.

“Oh, I never sensed anything mystically,” I felt compelled to add. “You told me where the explosives were yourself, Zamboni. When you gestured at your priest friend earlier, telling me to reveal my game? You almost made him drop the book. Once it registered with me why he’d looked so panicked, the rest fell into place.”

“Son of a–”

“Zam,” the priest cut in warningly. “Not now.”

“Fine, fine.” Zamboni put his hands on his hips, then leaned in towards Trixie. “Hey, nice work with the gazebo. You’re sexy too, would you be game for a marriage? We’ve got the priest right here. You could really put one over on ‘Missy’ that way.”

“Gah,” Trixie said, leaning back and crossing her palms over her chest. I realized then that her learning in towards him had not been intentional. “NO. I am not as desperate as you, and may I never reach that level. Just marry the priest yourself if you want into the covens so bad.”

Zamboni sputtered at that, but it seemed he didn’t have anything coherent to say.

“So,” I said to the priest. “Before we go, want to reveal how many others here were in on the scheme?”

He shot me a look. “Pardon?”

“The factions here,” I elaborated. “Some must have the same information as you. About the turning point. So they let you two try in order to see whether worship, arguments or crazy vendettas had the stronger case for getting her.” I gestured, only to notice that our audience had thinned considerably in the time since the gazebo had more or less imploded. “The answer being none of them.”

He grimaced. “As if I would tell you if I had anyone working on the inside.”

“We don’t need you to tell us anyway,” Trixie scoffed, before bellowing, “HEY!” That immediately got the attention of everyone still around. The redhead looked out at the scattered groups of people in the park, before pointing at me.

“Check it out,” she continued. “He’s not even Melissa and he took these marriage guys down. Look at him! No plan, no backup, no weapons worth a damn, oh, and something else, now he doesn’t have anything to lose. So, if you’ve got any silly little plans about going after Melissa again… do the smart thing.” She put her hands on her hips. “Let somebody else try first.”

She began to march out of the park. I decided that was a good enough exit, and hurried to catch up. “Nice little speech,” I muttered to her as we headed out. “Didn’t recognize the material, Douglas Adams or something?”

She whipped her head in my direction so fast a twintail nearly hit her in the face. “You didn’t recognize Doctor–” Off my expression, she smacked her palm hard against her face. “Oh GOD, it’s like I’m living with a couple of luddites.”

I didn’t follow up. Frankly, I was more worried about whether Melissa had truly reached some sort of vulnerable turning point, not here, but in Mortum’s castle.

“Hear me out,” Melody added, as Melissa’s jaw clenched. Obviously she did not like the implication that she had somehow driven another witch to become a zombi.

“Listening,” Melissa said, though she turned her attention back to finding the orb.

“Almost fifty years of witchcraft,” Melody said. “Fifty years. And you were the first to ever make me pull out my last resort ‘Ultima’ spell. The first witch to force my hand to the extent I felt I should vanish, giving up everything I’d made for myself to that point, and you were barely twenty years old.”

“I’m crying for you,” Melissa deadpanned back.

“That made me angry, but more than that, it made me curious. So I looked into you, Melissa Virga. Turns out you’re on the path to be one of the Chosen Ones.”

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“Been there, doing that,” Melissa said, spotting an orb. She reached for it, only to discover it was a decorative snow globe. Albeit one you could trap people inside. She tossed it aside, allowing it to smash on the ground. “Or have a plan for the decision, at least.”

“We’re within the window?” Melody said in surprise. “I suppose more time has passed than I realized. But no matter. Discovering that fact helped me to come to terms with the knowledge that, while my habit of bleeding essence away from the recently departed did not violate the letter of supernatural balance, it did violate the spirit, as it were. You, a Chosen One, had judged me, and found me wanting.”

Melissa paused in her searching. “Please don’t talk about me like I’m some sort of God. I never went around intentionally judging anyone.”

Melody shrugged. “Religious upbringing, it’s how I speak.”

“Get to the point,” Melissa suggested.

“Very well. I decided I should atone, and become more of a force for good. Meaning I tracked down the person on the planet who was the worst form of necromancer, namely Mortum, and signed up to be one of his underlings.”

Melissa rested back on her haunches, staring at the blonde witch. “Which brings us back to the INSANITY. How are you a force for good by willingly allowing an undead spirit to possess your body?”

Melody smiled again, this time darkly. “With my background, Mortum accepted me. And since it was a willing zombi partnership, the spirit would occasionally extend itself away, secure that it could return. Allowing me breathing room, with the chance to study it, to understand it. Not act, I grant. Not then. But I knew that the time had to come when someone would free me, giving me the chance to turn the tables. To do something about this, something that would put to practice all I had learned about the way an individual’s will is suppressed by a zombi spell.”

A shiver ran up Melissa’s spine. “Then you know how to free them,” she deduced. “You know how to free them all.”

Melody’s smile became a bit unhinged. “Mmm hmmm. I have a NEW Ultima spell.”

Melissa’s eyes again flickered around the room, the witch suddenly not sure whether to congratulate Melody, or run screaming from the room. “Do I want to know?”

“Let’s just say that if you were forced to do something for a long time – a very long, long time – you’d want a break. And if you didn’t get it, you might very well lash out at the one who’s been forcing your situation upon you. Assuming you have your will restored.”

“O-kay,” Melissa said slowly.

Melissa turned back to the latest chest, and after another moment of inspection, pressed a jewel in the front. A secret compartment opened, and Alicia’s orb popped out. The brunette witch grabbed it, and placed it into her bag, even as a thought struck her. “Alicia’s person on the inside… that’s you, isn’t it.”

Melody nodded. “As I say, I had occasional breathing room. I was never sure when or where it would happen, but sometimes, the spirit would extend itself away, and I could get out a brief message to the rightful owner of that orb.”

Melissa licked her lips, trying to figure out what she should say here. Being casually dismissive felt wrong. So she considered what I might say, in her place.

“Look, Melody, you’ve obviously sacrificed a lot here. Maybe more than you realize, more than you should have. Promise me you’ll get checked out by a doctor or something, after depleting yourself with your last resort spell?”

“Of course,” Melody said, her light tone not exactly a guarantee.

“Melody, look at me.” The older witch managed to focus back on Melissa. “Doctor.”

“Of course,” she repeated, though this time seeming surer of herself. “And thank you for shaking me out of my complacency years ago.”

Melissa frowned. “For the record, I was more in the wrong than you were, that day,” she admitted. “I let things get too personal, and allowed my emotions to run away with me. I am sorry. Especially if things came to this, because of that.”

Melody shook her head. “I was too clinical back then, too detached. We witches, we cannot allow ourselves to operate in either mode for too long. Can we?”

Melissa again thought of me. “Yeah. Learning that.”

“You will make the right decision, in the end. For all of us.”

Melissa almost answered ‘I hope so’, only to have it hit her why her parents' plans would ultimately fail. It was a turning point. She knew then that she would need to know more about her destined role, and she was running out of time to do some proper research.

And at this point, you’ve probably divined that it was Melissa who gave me this account after the fact, not someone else. But while she was about to escape, our problems were only going to get more difficult.

END ACT 5

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 5d: OF ZOMBIES AND ZEALOTS

She leapt to the side, up onto one of the thrones, using it as a launching pad to spring for some ceremonial fencing swords that were just out of her reach. (Sometimes her height is a particular drawback.) Snaring one, she brandished it in self defence, waving her palm along it to check that it was an effective weapon, and not merely decorative. To be clear, preventing a witch from speaking doesn’t prevent her from spell casting, it merely prevents the ability to focus magick for the more intensive spells.

“Magnes,” Melody stated.

Melissa felt the magnetic pull as Melody tried to relieve her of the blade. She allowed for a slight pull, then turned the trajectory into a spin, and flung the blade at the elder blonde witch. As Melody was forced to deflect, Melissa ran back for the entrance.

“Volo.” Melody flew up into the air.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Melissa was overtaken before she could get out. Which was when her hand came up out of her bag, throwing a handful of backup salt into Melody’s face. As Melody flinched, concentration broken enough to make her return to the ground, Melissa made up the couple extra steps.

She grabbed one of the spears from the zombies who were only now untangling themselves at the entrance.

But there were more zombies closing in from all sides. Melissa saw she had no viable escape other than back through the large throne room. She took a second to clear her throat before charging back in.

The spear being mostly wood, it kept Melody at bay temporarily. Melissa needed to find the access point to the hidden room ahead.

“Aduro,” Melody intoned, and Melissa’s spear caught fire.

The brunette smirked a little at that, having hoped for just such an attempt to disarm her. Holding her bag in her hand to act as a fire buffer between her palm and the spear, she maintained her grip and ran backwards, to a tapestry. Using the flames to set it ablaze, Melissa then waved the burning shaft of wood about, to keep any newly arriving zombies at bay.

Perhaps realizing that she had just given Melissa a MORE dangerous weapon, Melody’s next summons was “Aqua”.

Again, anticipating something of the sort as soon as Melody opened her mouth, Melissa was a hair faster. Perhaps trying to make up for her earlier hesitation. She threw the blazing spear towards the entranceway, making the zombies back up. That the water then condensed and fell upon her, instead of the spear, verified that all Melody’s spells were area based, and cast in her direction, as opposed to actually on her person.

Another clever loophole. Melody wasn’t performing magick on the unwilling, Melissa was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Reaching out, the now slightly dripping witch ripped the still burning tapestry down from the wall. Concluding that her arms and shoulders were soon going to have a hard time forgiving her, she ran back for the thrones, still using the fire as a buffer.

Now Melody hesitated. Or perhaps merely concluded that she had time to think of another plan, as Melissa seemed to be cornering herself.

‘Come on, come on,’ Melissa said in her head, and possibly would have been muttering it aloud if she’d had the capability.

She saw the scuffmarks on the floor. It had to be due to the hidden door scraping on the stonework. The only remaining question was how to open it.

Unfortunately, at that moment, her luck ran out. Before she could figure out the door, there was the sound of someone clearing his or her voice on the upper level.

“What,” the voice rumbled, “is happening here?”

It was Mortum.

With Zamboni’s words, the attention of everyone in the park shifted from him to me. I was pretty sure he hadn’t set out to make my Agency (technically Melissa’s) into this lightning rod for her status, but asking me whether I had propositioned Melissa and/or was pulling her strings? Had managed to do just that.

“Melissa’s not the marrying type,” I shot back at the waiting Zamboni.

Which I immediately knew was the wrong response. First, it didn’t deny that I might have asked her, and second… it made me wonder myself whether Melissa was, indeed, inclined to stay single. For the first time since Amy, at the start of the summer, I found myself wondering how far things were going to go between Melissa and I.

“Perhaps she’s merely not the type to marry YOU,” Zamboni said, far too smugly.

Did Zamboni have a point? Why hadn’t Melissa or I touched on this subject yet? We’d merely returned to our status quo. For weeks now, nothing had changed.

I was forced to do more self-reflection. At what point do you know you’ve found ‘The One’? More to the point, hadn’t I already answered that question? My debating three months ago with Amy had led me to choose Melissa.

But I hadn’t returned to her with a ring and a promise.

Of course, Zamboni seemed to be in this for the magick lifestyle, and Melissa had feared as much of me when I first came back. And while I wasn’t about to run off with another witch, if Melissa were to give up the Agency, would I feel any disillusionment? I supposed there was an answer for Zamboni in that.

“Melissa’s married to her job, anyone who knows her knows that,” I fired off.

Except this was a job which would go away in three weeks – as either the supernatural would be a reality, or it wouldn’t. There would be no need to have an agency to balance things out. And without the job, what were we? Still a couple? What would Melissa’s next project be after the Agency? Would she want me along? Would I still want to be a part of her life if we weren’t solving supernatural crimes?

“Sorry, what?” I said, realizing I’d missed Zamboni’s latest retort.

“I said you have no reason to be speaking for Melissa here,” Zamboni repeated, narrowing his eyes. “Her job should speak for itself. Frankly, you do not even seem capable of investigating the supernatural without her. Can you perform magick?”

I grimaced. Well, lying wouldn’t help. “I can do illusion.”

“Please,” Zamboni sniffed. “Anyone can do that. No, you couldn’t conjure up a rose even if your life depended on it. You are a mere puppet, the only question is whose. Perhaps Melissa conjured you up herself, to keep suitors like me at bay, hm? Or to keep give the factions here a red herring to investigate?”

He attempted to push past me again. “Come, Melissa, let us ignore this fool and be joined. It is time.”

I reached out a hand to stop him. “Melissa is not going anywhere with you.”

“And who’s going to stop me?” Zamboni said, managing to make his voice even colder than mine. “You?”

“Perhaps,” I answered, even as I realized I was getting way out of my depth. “Don’t underestimate me. I’m full of surprises.”

“That’s true enough,” Trixie/Melissa muttered.

It was Zamboni’s turn to pause, perhaps wondering just how far I’d be willing to take this. “Very well,” he said slowly. “Let us say I agree to back off, and even give up my explosives… it would be under condition that YOU marry Melissa. After all, if she is so fond of you, doing this will avoid further meddling by me or anyone else.”

“Y-You can’t guarantee that though,” I protested, hating the quaver in my voice.

“Can’t I?” Zamboni smirked again. “You merely do not wish to finish things. Come, I have the priest. You shall be married in my place. Unless Melissa wishes to speak up for herself, for once? Rather than letting you continue to speak?”

My expression sort of froze, as I directed my gaze back towards Trixie/Melissa. She returned the look with a very Trixie-style expression that I found I could only interpret as, ‘You idiot’.

After all, the more she spoke, the more likely the deception would be uncovered. But I couldn’t play along and marry Trixie. Even if it were somehow judged to be marriage by proxy, Melissa hadn’t given consent. Nor could I admit now that this wasn’t Melissa, as Zamboni was liable to simply blow the whole place up. But then, what was the alternative?

For a moment, I felt like I needed Melissa’s guidance more than ever, and wished that I could have been with her just then.

Quick as a wink, Melissa yanked an adhesive scroll out of her pocket and slapped it onto the wall, before turning and standing in front of it.

Melissa could see him now, coming down the stairs. Mortum was a slightly portly man, balding, maybe Melody’s height, currently dressed in a black bathrobe. He quickly sized up the situation.

“Fascinating,” he concluded, expression almost a smile. “I haven’t had an unexpected visitor get this far in over fifty years. Someone, go and hold her. And my dear, if you resist, I assure you I have no qualms about throwing the person who fails me into that fire you’ve prepared.”

Melissa could think of several choice things she wanted to say to the man at that point, but perhaps fortunately for him, she still couldn’t speak. So she merely stood there, fists clenched, as two type I zombies, a male and a female, moved in to restrain her by the arms.

“Now then,” Mortum continued, upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, “we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. The easy way involves you explaining to me why and how you came to be here. The hard way involves me zombifying you and getting the same information that way. Though I suppose that way is easier for me.”

Melissa’s eyes narrowed. Mortum flashed a smile. “Aha, yes, rather seems a bad idea to let you speak just now. I suppose that wasn’t really a decision I’d let you make anyway.”

He gestured at Melody. “We’ll let my most powerful spirit split it’s attentions between you two witches then. See what it can learn. Maybe it will even find itself a new home. Melody?”

The blonde witch took a step forwards as the other two zombies held Melissa firmly to prevent her getting away. The brunette’s eyes darted left and right, but she saw no possibility for escape there, and a slight struggle showed she wasn’t about to break free.

Melissa decided she had no choice but to fixate her gaze on Melody’s hand, as it drew closer and closer to her. Wondering when the zombi spirit would jump into her head.

Trying to stave off desperation, I looked from Trixie/Melissa, to Zamboni, to the priest. It was upon seeing the priest that something Zamboni had done a short time ago fully registered, and the solution hit me.

With that, I felt a surprising amount of inner calm.

“Perhaps you are right,” I said to Zamboni, “it would be proper to ask Melissa’s opinion here.”

I turned again to the image of my girlfriend, whose Trixie-expression immediately morphed from ‘You idiot’ to a concerned ‘What are you doing?’ I smiled reassuringly.

“But before we do that, you should know two things, Zamboni,” I continued. “The first is that she has been working with a protégé of her’s, Trixie, on an amazingly complex technological device, called Rixi. Mel, could you perhaps give us a demonstration? Have it call up some scrolls for a containment spell, say five or six?”

Trixie/Melissa eyed me before reaching into her jeans pocket and pulling out the device she I knew she’d grabbed before departing. She never goes anywhere without it. “Rixi, containment scrolls,” she said into it.

“All right,” Rixi said brightly. “Accessing.”

I glanced back at Zamboni, who was now starting to look suspicious, and the priest, who was looking confused.

“Yeah, Mel’s been working a bit too hard lately, she’s starting to sound like the tech,” I pointed out, as the glowing sphere deposited scrolls into Trixie/Melissa’s hand. I quickly took them from her. “It’s rather interesting though, the design wasn’t merely based on Siri, what were those other animated television shows that Trixie said she had been watching? I never remember.”

Trixie/Melissa eyed me as I began to walk to the gazebo. “Magical Lyrical Nanoha and Martin Mystery,” she admitted quietly after a moment.

“Those were the ones,” I said, as I slapped a scroll up onto one of the beams of the gazebo. “Never have found the time to get into what she calls anime, but I hear it’s fascinating stuff.”

Trixie/Melissa had to have known by now that I was stalling for time. Given how my memory wouldn’t let me forget those trivial little details, which we’d discussed during our first dinner, all those weeks previously. But would she see what I wanted her to do, or more importantly, when I wanted her to do it?

“Stop wasting time,” Zamboni cut in, apparently cluing in to the delay tactic too. I picked up the pace of my circuit of the gazebo as Zamboni continued, pasting up the scrolls. “We’re here to decide who is going to marry Melissa, not what her friend watches on TV. Is there even a second thing we should know?”

“You aren’t listening to me," I shot back. “Marrying Melissa is merely why you’re here. And you’re trying to pull me into it to, almost like as long as it happens, you get paid. Is that tuxedo even yours, or is it a rental?”

“It is MINE,” Zamboni sighed in annoyance, reaching up to adjust his bow tie. “Now stop stalling or I swear I will activate the explosives."

“Very well,” I said, raising my index finger. “The second thing then. It involves a case I was part of, one regarding a young lady named Danielle. Saving her included the use of a latin phrase, ‘die dulci fruere’. Do you perchance know how to spell that?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I gave Trixie/Melissa a pointed look. She DID remember what she’d said about the case less than an hour ago, right? Her eyebrows went up, and I knew she understood.

“It’s a rather meaningless latin phrase,” Zamboni was answering. “Which has nothing to do with those scrolls, but which I’m about to interpret as a threat.”

“Here’s the thing then,” I finished. “You say this moment is a turning point, which some spirits foretold. That may well be true. I’m sure it’s why the most devout are staying to watch, even now. But I don’t think YOU are meant to be part of this turning point, Zamboni. Because you aren’t even brave enough to carry the explosives yourself.”

I immediately shifted my attention from Zamboni to his priest, snatching the bible from his hands before he had a chance to prevent it. As I suspected, the book was a lot heavier than it should have been.

“Trixie!” I called out, throwing the object into the gazebo.

Trixie/Melissa raised her voice slightly as she completed the latin chanting that she had been doing under her breath. She raised both her hands, creating the necessary mystic gesture.

“Fac ut gaudeam!” she concluded.

The papers which I had placed around the gazebo lit up with a bright glow, just as the book hit the ground. There was a massive explosion.

And that’s when I realized I’d made a mistake.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 5c: OF ZOMBIES AND ZEALOTS

I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of her being there, looking like my girlfriend. Particularly given her earlier thoughts about Zamboni, and possible jealousy issues towards Melissa having been picked. “I don’t know, Trixie.”

[caption id=“attachment_2345” align=“alignright” width=“186”] TRIXIE
Commission from Sen Yomi[/caption]

“James, I have to use a low level version of the illusion spell, or it’ll register a mile away,” she explained. “That means no vocals. So unless you’ve gained the ability to talk like Melissa in falsetto, you’re out. Plus, ever since throwing your name on this agency? Your identity’s been twisted up with Melissa’s. You coming along wouldn’t be seen as weird. Me there plus ‘Melissa’ too would put people on their guard.”

She made sense. “I suppose,” I said. “But you don’t really sound like Melissa either.”

“I’ll mumble and pretend I have a cold,” the redhead countered, already starting to pour a circle of flour around Melissa’s desk chair. “Honestly, me or you, what’s the difference?”

Even setting aside my concerns over ‘Trixie/Melissa’, I realized I was still worried about Trixie being in the thick of the action all of a sudden. “Just want to make sure… you really wouldn’t rather back me up from afar?”

She looked up at me then, and frowned. “I won’t freeze up.”

I raised my hands. “I didn’t say you would.”

“Don’t get all protective and caring of me either. You’ll make me hate you more, over how we can’t have a relationship.”

I rubbed my forehead. “I just want to make sure you’re doing this because you want to, not because the situation seems to require it. Okay?”

Trixie sighed, dropping the flour sack onto the floor. The circle was ready. “Fine, well, you got a plan C?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“Then it’s fine.” She grabbed one of Melissa’s personal items from the desk and then jumped up into the chair, crossing her legs to prevent her short, plaid skirt from revealing too much. “I really am doing this to see what it’s like living in Missy’s shoes for once. We good?”

I wasn’t sure if that was a satisfactory answer, but even my plan B wasn’t solid in my head. “Okay, just make sure the spell makes you look like you’re wearing something Mel would wear.”

Trixie smiled impishly, and started to chant in Latin.

Melissa peered out from the alcove she’d selected as a hiding place. She saw nothing.

The coast should be clear now, she reasoned, all the way to the vicinity of the throne room. As to whether she’d be able to work her way back out… well, one thing at a time. She attuned herself again to her tracking spell, which had continued to move on ahead, at the edge of her awareness, and used it as a reference.

She then set out, moving quickly but quietly. Maybe ten minutes later, she was only a corridor away from her destination.

Two steps past the suit of armour, she registered her mistake. Melissa quickly jumped forwards and rolled on the ground, narrowly missing the axe that had been swung down at her.

“That was stupid,” she muttered to herself. Of course armour could contain a body. Still, it was armour. Obvious weakness. She came up on one knee, and readied the electrical spell at her fingertips.

Then paused. Once burned, twice shy.

Could a type III zombi animate a suit of armour? If THAT was the case, she couldn’t touch it at all, lest the spirit jump to her. But maybe this was a simple enchantment, and not even a zombi?

It was readying another swing of the axe. She couldn’t risk the touch.

She switched her focus from her fingertips to her palm, holding it out as it to say stop, while at the same time intoning, “Caecus!” A bright flash of light lit the corridor in front of her, and the swing of the axe went wide.

The armour could apparently be blinded, therefore had eyes of a sort. Hence not a simple enchantment. Melissa didn’t waste time with a follow-up, hopping back up onto her feet and racing down the corridor in her initial direction.

She should be able to get into the collector room around the back of the throne room, and then seal herself inside temporarily. Buying time to work out an escape. But that plan went awry too, when a person with vacant eyes stepped out of a side passage, seemingly investigating the noise.

Seeing Melissa, it blocked her way.

Melissa reached back into her bag, fingers connecting with the end of the rope inside. She yanked it out, calling out, “Ligatio!” as she threw it at the zombi that stood before her.

It had started to extend its arms, only for the rope to magically wind around it, pinning its arms to its sides. That allowed Melissa to edge to the side of it. Then, reasoning that they’d expect her to continue on her current path, she ducked back down the side passage from where her opponent had emerged.

With her presence known, stealth was becoming less and less of a concern. Given her location, she decided to go for broke.

Three more right turns would let her hit the throne room dead on. Unlikely that Mortum was hanging out there this late at night, and from there, she could still get into the room with the orb and barricade the entrances.

Heading for her third right turn, an obvious type II appeared from the left. Obvious, as no living being could have a chest wound that large. As such, she decided to risk a tactile spell.

By stopping short in her run, it couldn’t correct as fast, and almost plowed into her; Melissa extended her index finger. “Dormis!”

The zombi with the chest wound fell to the side; she didn’t waste any thought on whether the undead could dream or not. Fifteen steps became ten, then five – yet at the main doors, there were two more, now registering her arrival and holding up spears.

Two was the number she’d hoped for.

“Everro!” Melissa called, making a hand motion from left to right. The one zombi got yanked sideways into the other, both of them falling to the ground in a cluster of arms and legs. She pressed her advantage.

“Fit via vi!” was the spell, with both palms now out, her fingers interlaced. The hinges on the double door buckled from the force blast, and when Melissa slammed into the wood with her shoulder, the opening yielded to her weight. Even so, Melissa wagered she’d need an ice pack when this was all over.

As soon as she burst into the central room, with its stereotypical columns, raised dais and additional stairwell curving up one side, she was looking for a way to access the hidden area that she knew existed behind the thrones.

As such, she missed the woman with the long blonde hair standing in the corner until it was too late.

Or rather, Melissa noticed her within two seconds of entering, but was then frozen for the critical extra seconds that she’d have needed to cast a spell. She knew this woman.

“Melody,” Melissa breathed out.

“Qui tacet consentire videtur,” Melody intoned, raising her finger and pointing.

The elder blonde witch, the one who had once consulted with an old classmate of Melissa’s, who had once suspended me upside-down in a position of peril, and who had once caused Melissa herself to suffer a breakdown after summoning a recently departed spirit, stood in Mortum’s throne room.

She was now a type III zombi. Who had just taken away Melissa’s voice. A fact that my girlfriend became acutely aware of, when she found she was unable to cast a protective shield.

As we started down the stairs of the apartment building, I looked at Trixie again. The illusion made her appear exactly like Melissa, right down to the pair of tight jeans.

“So, how we gonna play this then?” the witch chirped, thrusting her smaller chest out at me. Reinforcing the fact that she didn’t have Melissa’s voice or mannerisms.

I looked away. “We determine how this lunatic is going to blow up the park, and defuse his explosives or the situation before he can marry you,” I stated.

“Duh. Can you be a bit more specific?”

“I’m still working out the details," I admitted. “Thing is, the faction side of this worries me. Why would they let Zamboni get this far?”

“What, you think they’re working together?” Trixie/Melissa asked.

“Alicia did say the groups wouldn’t be working at cross purposes for much longer.”

“Yuh huh. I bet Alicia said a lot of stuff to rope Missy into going on her mission.”

I sighed. “Maybe. Just… follow my lead, okay? And please don’t say things like ‘yuh huh' or ‘duh’ when you look like that. It’s all kinds of wrong.”

Trixie/Melissa smirked. “What if I call you an idiot instead? Hey, curious, would it be a turn on for someone who looks like Missy to call you that?”

“Trixie…”

“Call me Mel,” she giggled. She briefly grabbed for my arm, but my reaction must have told her that she’d crossed a line, and she quickly disengaged. “Sorry. Look, I won’t say that stuff because I’ll have made it look like Missy’s lost her ability to speak or something. That said, since your thinking’s stalled, I reserve the right to improvise.”

I nodded. “I guess that’s fair, but don’t take any undue risks.”

We headed to the park, after making sure our protective charm necklaces were still in place under our shirts. We weren’t about to get stabbed in the back without warning. It was just starting to grow dark, making for a bit of a gloomy atmosphere; the sunset seemed to be mostly red.

The park, I discovered, also had a lot more people in it than we might have expected… some I recognized as previous attempted guests at the apartment. Had they simply not been in this park when I walked this way? Or had they somehow used illusion to seem different?

Of course, given Zamboni’s ultimatum, maybe a lot of them were here now to catch a glimpse of Melissa, which would be more difficult at most other times. I hoped no one would try to take a shot at Trixie/Melissa, or all hell might break loose. That is, assuming they weren’t all working together somehow.

Crazy marriage guy turned out to be hard to miss. He was standing with a priest close to the park’s centre, next to the gazebo.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t one of those guys who looked that crazy. Sandy blonde hair, hazel eyes, reasonably good looking, dressed in what seemed like a rented tuxedo, complete with white bow tie. He simply drew the attention of everyone around him.

The priest nodded at Zamboni, for reasons that would make more sense later.

“Aha! Aha!” Zamboni shouted at us, as we stopped short a couple paces away. He shook his finger in the air. “See, I knew the true Chosen One would not let her brethren come to harm. See how well I know you? We are destined to be together.”

“Right, well, we’re here now, so why don’t you put away whatever detonating device you have as a show of goodwill,” I said. It looked like the guy had even put some flowers around the gazebo, which I supposed was a nice touch.

His gaze fully turned from Trixie/Melissa to me, becoming a glare. “Who are you?”

“James Conway. I run a supernatural agency, and I speak for Melissa in this case. Who are you?”

“I am the Great Zamboni. Surely you’ve heard of me?”

“Right, yes. Ice to meet you.” (That just slipped out.) “So, let’s defuse the situation, okay? Give me the explosives.” I stepped closer and extended my hand.

Zamboni shook his head. “I will not give up my insurance until me and Melissa are joined in wedlock.”

Trixie/Melissa must have rolled her eyes or something, because he then moved to try and step around me.

“Melissa,” he continued, “the time is near. You must pick someone. Surely you don’t want to face your decision alone?”

“Look,” I continued, keeping myself between Zamboni and Trixie/Melissa. “Even assuming that’s true, we don’t need a shotgun marriage yet. Let’s reschedule.”

The priest let out a grunt. Zamboni laughed.

“Fool,” Zamboni said. “This is the time that was foretold to me by the spirits from the other realm. It is the turning point, the moment when Melissa’s fate is realized. Of course we shall do this now!”

I exchanged a quick glance with Trixie/Melissa, wondering if I’d missed part of a conversation, before turning back. “Zamboni, check your calendar, you’re about three weeks early.”

The blonde man glared at me again, then waggled his finger. “You mock. But I don’t mean this is the decision of the Chosen One itself. I mean this is the turning point. And the presence that is here, within me, will help Melissa sift through the data to make the proper decision when it is time. I know it.”

He lifted his hand to his heart. Were his feelings the presence he meant? I belatedly wondered if this was a case of possession, kicking myself for not thinking of the possibility sooner.

“I don’t need a guy like you in my data,” Trixie/Melissa piped up in a rasp.

“A marriage here is out of the question anyway,” I broke in quickly. “Melissa’s parents aren’t even here. They would want to attend such an event.”

Zamboni’s eyes narrowed as his gaze was again brought back to me before he could address Trixie/Melissa. He peered. “You know of her parents? Ah, yes, yes, I can see that now. It took me a moment, but you see yourself as my rival, James. Yes? You wish to be the one sifting through Melissa’s data?”

Trixie/Melissa snorted. I had to agree, somehow that sounded dirty, but I’m not sure if it was from his tone or my mind.

“I am merely her business associate,” I stated.

Trixie/Melissa started coughing violently.

Zamboni now looked ticked off. “I am not a fool. You care for her. I know now. Curious though.” He stepped back and made a wide gesture with his hand, almost hitting his priest in the process. “Perhaps you could reveal your game to everyone here? After all, could it be that YOU have proposed to her already, as I have? Is this why you claim to speak for Melissa, hmm?”

He caught me off guard with that one.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 5b: OF ZOMBIES AND ZEALOTS

Trixie gaped at me. “Really? We want someone like that to realize Missy’s away?”

“We can pretend Mel’s sleeping, or will be back soon,” I answered. “Danielle Timins, she was involved in my first case here. The one I documented online. I’m curious about what she wants now.”

Trixie frowned. “First case… the invisible friend thing? Where you nearly blew up a building on campus?”

Apparently this was another of the cases that Melissa had mentioned to her cousin during my three-week absence in May. “That’s the one.”

“Okay. And you’re sure that this is the same person, not some sort of illusion? And that she hasn’t joined a faction in the last four years, like maybe the stabby-stabby one?”

“I… euh…”

[caption id=“attachment_2345” align=“alignright” width=“186”] TRIXIE
Commission from Sen Yomi[/caption]

“Once an idiot, always an idiot,” Trixie sighed, rolling her eyes. She glanced at her palm, as if debating smacking me upside the head, like old times. Instead, all she said was, “I’ll hang around long enough to keep you out of trouble.”

I opened the door for Danielle.

Trixie immediately fired off with, “What faction are you representing?”

Danielle shrank back. “Oh, um, I do have scriptures explaining why the human race isn’t ready for supernatural incursions,” the blonde said timidly. “Based on what I remember of my own experi—”

“Rationals.” Trixie slammed the door in Danielle’s face and turned to me. “Told you.”

“B-But that’s not why I’m here!” Danielle called out from the other side.

I sighed. “Trixie, let her back in?”

She shot me a look. “As if we don’t have enough on our plate already?”

I crossed my arms. “And here I thought you were eager to help the Agency out with more than just the engrams.”

“This IS helping,” Trixie said. “Isn’t it?” She searched my expression, then frowned and reopened the door. “Fine. Make your case for sticking around in ten seconds or less, Danielle.”

Danielle reached to push her glasses up higher on her nose. “There’s a guy in the park down the street who says that if Melissa doesn’t show up in the next hour to marry him, he’ll blow everything up.”

I did a double-take. “He’ll what now?”

“Huh. Blow the PARK up or blow MISSY up?” Trixie questioned. I turned to see if she was making fun of the situation, only to realize she was doing up the half of her blouse buttons that had been undone. She was taking this seriously.

“Blow the park up,” Danielle clarified. “The one where a lot of us faction people have been hanging out. Trying to figure out how we can get the upper hand on the other groups.”

“Wait, all the factions are there?” I asked, looking back at her.

“Sure,” Danielle answered.

“I figured you all had to have a home base,” Trixie mused. “Okay, sorry for slamming the door on you. Question though, how is him blowing up your base a smart move?”

“He’s not part of any faction,” Danielle insisted. “Or if he is, he’s some hybrid. He showed up about five minutes ago with that crazy ultimatum. And a priest, for the marriage. And our rudimentary magick shows he does have explosives. So we’re at a bit of a loss as to what to do.”

“Did you sneak out to come get us?” Trixie asked.

Danielle shook her head. “I was nominated, as a Rational person who had once seen Melissa, and could thus maybe gain her sympathy. Even though I don’t remember much about my case, they thought you’d at least let me in.”

“In that, they were right,” I realized. I looked to Trixie. “You know, the fact that Melissa just left can’t be a coincidence,” I pointed out.

“A-duh,” Trixie retorted. “Way to not be an idiot for once, though minus points for saying that with Danielle still here.” She turned to the blonde. “It’s fine. Run along and we’ll fix things within the hour time frame this guy gave. Unless you have other useful information?” She made shoo-ing motions.

Danielle started wringing her hands. “Are you sure? When is Melissa due back? We don’t even know where this guy’s explosives are, and a lot of people in the park are hanging around to see what happens, rather than being smart and running away.”

“It’s fine,” I said, to back Trixie up. “Though, you might want to be one of the smart people who leaves the area. Okay?”

Danielle nodded, her glasses slipping down once more. “A-All right then. I’ll pass on the message. Oh, if it helps, the guy called himself the Great Zamboni. That’s all I’ve got.”

I closed the apartment door as she headed down the stairs.

“Okay,” Trixie said, tugging up on her dark stockings. “I figure that Mortum guy used Alicia’s orb, and sent this Zamboni to keep Missy busy here, so that she wouldn’t be messing around his castle. But the message was a bit late.”

“Though it could be coincidence,” I suggested. “Maybe this marriage guy was planning to blow up the park regardless, and he wants Melissa there for it, to get her in the blast. He doesn’t exactly sound balanced, he might be full of crazy instead of worship.”

Trixie nodded. “No kidding. Anyone considering marriage to Missy can’t be balanced.”

She smirked. It took me a second to parse why, and as I did a double take, she extended her tongue impishly back. At least the earlier conversation hadn’t made things awkward between us.

“Either way,” Trixie stated. “I’ll put my intimacy cravings on hold to help you with this.” A flash of uncertainty appeared. “Unless you don’t want my help. Since I guess this will be field work and a half.”

“No, I’ll need the help,” I assured her. “Since my back-up plan is going to require magick casting, and that’s your department.”

Trixie nodded. “Cool, you have a plan. This, I want to hear.”

“We have almost an hour, so it involves doing some research, while hoping Melissa’s able to complete her mission particularly expediently.”

“Uh.” Trixie didn’t look impressed. “And your back-up plan…?”

I exhaled. “Well, Plan B involves getting some flour from the kitchen.”

I’ll now relate to you some of what happened with Melissa. You’ll find out in the end whether I know this from her directly, or through other means.

When Melissa first arrived, she was forced to blink a few times to adjust to the lower light levels. In the end, she didn’t like what saw. There had been three possible points for her arrival, as Alicia had said her informant couldn’t guarantee placement.

One was down in the dungeons. Another was an arboretum-style room. The last was at the top of one of the towers, where she now seemed to be. Where there was only one point of entrance or egress, unless you counted flying. (The dungeons, funny enough, had two.) With no alternative, Melissa crouched and hurried down the stairs before her, hoping not to encounter anyone on the way. These being the same stairs she would need to take to get back out.

One of the main reasons Melissa had known this would be difficult, was because she had to avoid casting any particularly powerful spells in order to avoid detection. Ironically, casting invisibility would only serve to pinpoint her position. Another drawback was the fact that Melissa didn’t want to attack any zombies if she could avoid it; she’d already resigned herself to the fact that she would need to obtain Alicia’s orb before attempting to free them.

After all, she could only be sure all of them were released by blocking, or otherwise incapacitating, the magick of Mortum. Which implied removing any advantage he might have. Alas, since (according to Alicia) the orb itself was kept in a sealed off storage room behind the throne room, a face-off might become inevitable.

Fortunately, Melissa was in luck – there was no one in the vicinity of the stairs. As she reached the bottom, she opened her pack to remove a small jar, which held the tracking spell she had prepared earlier. It appeared as a tiny glowing ball of light, and once Melissa had unscrewed the lid, the spell fluttered out and down towards the ground.

It remained there for a moment, hovering, before shooting off down the hall. Melissa attuned herself to it, before setting off in quiet pursuit.

It was upon peering around the third corner that she caught sight of her first zombi.

It was a male, perhaps in his thirties, looking none the worse for wear (outside of his tattered clothing), thus likely a type I or type III. He’d been slowly walking through the hall, facing away from her.

Another misconception I should dispel here is that zombies always move slowly. They tend to do that when they’re on a routine patrol (who wouldn’t get bored and go on autopilot?), but they can speed up if they have to, just like a normal human.

Melissa now searched her memory, to recall what Alicia had mentioned about security patrols. The majority of the interior squad was type II (no need to feed those ones), while the majority of the exterior squad was type I (despite the remote location of this guy’s castle, there was always the possibility of them being seen by the public, or one of his collector guests).

So the fact that she’d passed the perimeter, and yet this wasn’t a II, meant it was one of the inner guard. Melissa was closer to the throne room than she’d realized. The specs hadn’t been entirely accurate.

Moreover, given the position of that zombi, and the other information she had, she reasoned that she’d have to work her way back out and around. Then wait a full half hour before a window of opportunity opened for getting through.

Melissa’s tracking spell was already out of sight, but it remained close enough for her to draw a bead on it. She wasn’t in any hurry. Or so she thought, not knowing what we were facing back home.

“Flour from the kitchen,” Trixie said, dropping the sack onto the desk and then looking at me expectantly.

“Right,” I sighed. We were down to twenty minutes left. “So you didn’t turn up anything useful on this Zamboni guy?”

I’d spent my time combing through Melissa’s files for any reference to him, or any similar cases in the past, and had come up empty. My eidetic memory had implied as much at the start, but there’d been a couple places where I’d wanted to be sure. I’d left the internet in Trixie’s hands.

Trixie leaned forwards against the desk. I saw she’d unbuttoned part of her blouse again, whether as a conscious decision or otherwise. “I didn’t find anything I saw as useful,” she said. “But here’s the rundown, on the off chance you spot something.” She smirked. “First, Zamboni’s not the manager of an ice rink, much to my surprise.”

I rubbed my forehead. “Yeah, I’m going to have to curb a desire to pun,” I admitted.

“Maybe don’t,” Trixie said. “What little there is on the guy shows that he can get riled up when he’s made fun of, which in turn leads to him making mistakes.”

I frowned. “Do we want a guy with explosives to get riled up?”

Trixie shrugged. “I said MAYBE don’t.”

“Noted. Anything else?”

She seemed to hesitate. “He’s a regular guy with bare minimum magick who’s aware of its existence, and as such is constantly looking to hook up with a witch. Which is why I did find cursory information. But his lovers don’t seem to satisfy him, or he accuses them of ulterior motives, and so he keeps bouncing around, from one witch love affair to another. Never finding a lasting relationship.”

“Ah.” I wondered if Zamboni had been exposed to magick the same way I had been. Trixie seemed to want to say something else though, so I kept staring at her.

Her mouth tightened. “So even an idiot like you can see there’s a bit of a parallel in my own life? Fine. Look, I won’t turn out like that. Whereas he’s sleeping around trying to find his place in the magick community, I’m just trying to find my place in the world. And whereas he’s thinking he’s finished because he’s found a Chosen One, I’m just going to keep going until I make, oh God, I’m not as pathetic as this guy, am I? Please say I’m not.”

I couldn’t tell if her attempt at a smile was her joking or being sincere.

“You’re not,” I assured her, honestly. “After all, you’d never blow people up to find yourself a boyfriend.”

Trixie almost facepalmed. “James. Seriously. The explosives aren’t for Missy, they’re because he’s decided that, after all this time, if she ISN’T his doorway in, nobody else WILL be. She’s no longer a girlfriend, she’s his Chosen One. His final solution. Much like how I’ve decided that anyone who wants me must have ulterior motives, making me wonder if I shouldn’t just build an AI boyfriend.”

“Uh. Wait, what? Are you making an AI along with everything else?” I said, not sure about the timing of this conversation.

“No, idiot, I’m too busy helping you and Missy first.” Trixie glanced down, apparently realizing her button popping had been distracting, and she started to do them back up. “Look, don’t worry about having this conversation with me, James. You’re no good at it. Suffice to say, I’m realizing I shouldn’t coerce people to walk my path, even if it’s obviously the best path, because I’m so smart. People have to be themselves, and forcing otherwise means things will blow up in my face.”

“Right. You’re not like Zamboni though, seriously.”

“I’m glad you think so.” She gestured at the sack she’d brought. “Now explain to me why we are throwing flour at the guy?”

I seized the topic change. “Right,” I said. “We don’t throw it. The plan is, we put that in a circle, and then you work a transformation spell to make me look like Melissa.”

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 5a: OF ZOMBIES AND ZEALOTS

Melissa looked startled, as if she’d forgotten I was even there. She looked towards me. “Sorry, James. But yes. A zombi is the ultimate perversion. Using witchcraft to turn a body into a puppet for one’s own purposes. There are laws against that sort of thing in our trade.”

“Aha. Obviously this is different from the classical ‘eat your brains’ kind of zombie.”

“Hollywood strikes again,” Melissa said with a shrug. “Also, zombi, fast i, only the plural uses an e.”

It also says something that she had to tell me that. I was pretty good at the language of the supernatural by now, yet zombies had never come up in all of our time together.

She went to sit back down at the desk, which I think was to prevent pacing back and forth. I waited until she was ready.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“There are three types of zombi," Melissa began at last. “In the first case, a regular person, or occasionally animal, has their willpower totally supplanted by the spell, basically becoming a slave in their own body. Their actions are totally controlled by the caster. In the most dire of cases, the body can die because even though the brain knows they should be drinking water, the body received a command not to do so.”

My eyebrows went up. “That’s terrible.”

Melissa’s voice was clipped. “It gets worse. The second type of zombi involves reanimation of a dead subject by forcibly tying their spirit back into their body. This tends to warp and taint the spirit, be it slowly or quickly depending on the actions the zombi takes – and again there’s nothing the individual can do about it.”

Here I understood Melissa’s apparent revulsion. She strongly believes that once a death has occurred, that individual has passed into another state of being, if not another realm. Thus it’s unhealthy for us to use supernatural means to tie them to our mortal plane of reality, messing with the natural order of things. To do so is at best irresponsible, and at worst, can compromise the deceased’s spiritual existence.

She’s indicated that some ghosts and specters were not originally evil when they first chose, or were forced, to remain on Earth.

In fact, that one time I saw Melissa break down and cry? Was when she was forced to briefly call upon a recently departed spirit, in fighting an older witch named Melody. I’m not sure she’s ever fully forgiven herself for that one, though it did get me out of a potentially life threatening situation. It was one of the first cases that I chronicled.

“Do I even want to know about the third type?” I asked.

“Well, they’re perhaps the most dangerous, while simultaneously being the least horrific, as far as I’m concerned,” Melissa said. “Creating the third type involves enslaving a spirit, rather than a body itself, and requires at least passive acceptance on the part of the spirit. But said spirit is useless without a body, so it can take over whatever is available – temporarily. It can jump, and in fact must, once human immune systems kick in. But for hours, even days, it can supplant the will of whoever’s body it likes the most at any particular time. It is sometimes able to control multiple bodies at once. You don’t want one of them touching you.”

I thought about this. “Seems a bit like using magick on the unwilling,” I admitted.

“Alas, the dead don’t really have an advocate for what they want or don’t want,” Melissa said. “And a person not being satisfied with their life is often enough of a wedge for the zombi spirit.”

She finally couldn’t sit still any longer, standing and starting to pace despite her best efforts. “Incidentally, it’s that last zombi type that gives rise to the belief of zombies spreading an infection, and the lack of their own will that has people believing they seek brains. It’s more that a zombi seeks to regain control of their own brain. The whole practice is absolutely despicable, and I cannot believe that it’s still going on in what we laughingly call a civilized society.”

I looked a little more closely at Melissa. “Did you accept this mission in order to retrieve Alicia’s orb, or in order to free the zombies?”

She gave me a look, and I knew it was the latter.

“But if there are laws against this sort of thing, can’t you or Alicia notify the magick authorities?” I protested.

“I’m guessing this Mortum doesn’t publicize the scope of what he’s doing. Alicia probably only knows because of her person on the inside, and for that matter, this orb is probably giving the guy an advantage as well.”

I nodded slowly. “Well then, I’m going in there with you.”

“No.”

“Mel, we do these things togeth—”

“Not this time!” Melissa repeated loudly. Then her gaze softened and she reached out to take me by the shoulders. “It’s too dangerous, plus Alicia specifically stated that I’m the focus point. The only one who can slip under the radar.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to go in unprepared.”

I tried to think of a good objection.

“Damn it, what’s all the shouting about?” came Trixie’s annoyed voice. Her twintails appeared as she opened her door and poked her head out. “I’m about to do some delicate work here, constructing a memory circuit using what feels like stone knives and bearskins. Do you mind?”

“It’s about zombies,” Melissa said, looking towards her cousin.

Trixie’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, fuuuuck. Spill.”

Melissa left us the following evening. She had already coordinated with Alicia by that point, so that she would have some idea as to the layout of Mortum’s castle and the size of the force she would be dealing with. She refused to share the information with me or Trixie.

“So what if we have to charge in and rescue you?” Trixie had asked earlier that day. “We won’t have your map.” The techno-witch had surfaced to find food, and found Melissa putting things into a backpack.

“You won’t need to charge in,” Melissa retorted.

“Uh huh. You know, being this Chosen One doesn’t make you invincible, yeah?” Trixie pressed. “There’s others who can take over, or whatever.”

“Of course I know that. The same way we both know field work isn’t something you excel at,” Melissa fired back. “So back off.”

Trixie glared. “Low blow. In return, maybe I should get in contact with your parents and tell them how often you’ve been sexing it up with James, against their advice?”

“At least I’ve had sex with a guy in the last three weeks, unlike you,” Melissa said. “Are your silly tricks not having their desired effect this month?”

“Whoa. WHOA,” I interjected from across the room. I’d been looking at Wing’s accounts. That had escalated too quickly. “Mel, decorum!”

Trixie’s face had become red, with either embarrassment or anger - or both. I’m not sure. “Wow, sorry for caring,” was all she snapped before going back into her room and slamming the door.

I approached Melissa. “You must know that was uncalled for.”

Melissa pressed two fingers to her forehead. “Right. Right, sorry. This zombi thing has me on edge. If you talk with Trix later, apologize to her for me? Please?”

Insisting to Melissa that she apologize herself felt like a conversation for later, particularly when Alicia herself came by to create the circle of salt for us shortly thereafter.

Know that it wasn’t strictly necessary for Alicia to do that, but she knew where the corresponding circle would be on the other side, as laid by her inside informant. Which would help to ensure safety on the return trip.

“Okay,” Melissa concluded, just before 8pm. Meaning after 1am European time. She had dressed in black for the occasion, within her usual motif - jeans, T-shirt and running shoes. “Give me at least two hours before you start to worry.” She shouldered her backpack.

“Kind of hard to schedule my concern,” I pointed out. “Besides, is there anything I can do when those two hours are up? That I couldn’t do now, that is.”

Melissa seemed about to wave me off, only to change her mind. “You could have Trixie contact the witch authorities,” she allowed. “Since at the least, I should have made it more difficult for this Mortum guy to disguise his zombi hordes by then.”

I nodded. “Please be careful, Mel.”

She simply grinned back, though the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Always.” Melissa leaned in for a quick kiss before moving into the salt circle. “Alea iacta est,” she muttered at last. And she vanished.

Less than a minute later, Trixie came out of her room. She was wearing a barely buttoned up red blouse and a short plaid skirt with long, dark stockings, meaning she’d changed from the more conservative outfit (for Trixie, at least) that she’d worn earlier in the day.

“Missy gone?” Trixie asked.

“Yeah,” I confirmed. “And she said she’s sorry about earlier.”

Trixie crossed her arms under her breasts, seemingly to push them up a bit, while leaning back against the wall. “Sure she is. Because you told her to be.”

“She is,” I insisted. “I mean, I know you don’t see us a lot of late, so maybe you couldn’t tell, but Mel is pretty on edge about this zombi stuff. Probably the Chosen One stuff too. Let’s talk again once this is over.”

“Uh huh.” Trixie looked me up and down. “Missy’s part of the reason I’m not getting any, you know,” she blurted out.

I stared. At Trixie’s face, for the record. “O-kay?”

“You heard her call me out on not bedding a guy lately, huh? She was right, of course. I dunno what the hint was, but her perception is as acute as ever.”

“I wasn’t going to bring it up.”

“No kidding, that’s why I’m bringing it up,” Trixie continued. “My last major Friday date was three weeks ago. Turned out to be one of Missy’s Worshippers. He was trying to use me to get to her. Ask me how I knew.”

“Um.” Playing along seemed safest. “All right, how did you know?”

“Any normal guy would be fine with nailing me back at his place. Ergo, insisting that we do the deed here, in this apartment, was a huge red flag. And yes, maybe he lived with his parents, the way I used to. Or it could’ve been a kink.” Trixie took a deep breath. “So I swiped his wallet when he wasn’t looking. Had pictures of Missy in it, and a membership card for some fan club. Can you believe it? What an idiot, keeping that stuff on hand while trying to pick me up.”

“Uh, yeah. Look, Trixie, I’m… not sure why you’re telling me this,” I admitted.

Trixie lowered her arms to push herself off the wall. “Well, aside from the fact that it’s a pretty good bit of field work on my part, who the HELL else am I going to tell? Besides, Missy’s life is interfering with mine in more ways than one… and I’ve wanted to get that off my chest.”

I think Trixie’s got it down to a science, using the word ‘chest’ at the same time as she does a heel bounce, to naturally draw the eye down. I still fall for it. “Fine,” I said. “Now could you at least… not do that, for right now?” I asked, gesturing.

“Oh, sure, because I can turn off my personality on a whim,” Trixie shot back. She stamped her foot. “Never mind all the work I’m doing for Miss Chosen One. Without any reward to speak of, aside from the work itself, I might add. Just screw Trixie, except of course I’m NOT getting screwed lately, I’m lonely as hell, and nobody cares!”

I now realized her eyes were misting over. My first instinct was to give Trixie a hug, except I worried that would result in mixed signals. “I-I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t notice.”

“Of COURSE you didn’t,” Trixie said. She rubbed her arm over her eyes, as if to clear them. “Because you’re the wonderful kind of idiot. But Missy obviously deduced it all, and didn’t care. That’s why I’m upset. Damn it, why am I helping you two idiots out again?”

I was swiftly feeling all kinds of awkward in this conversation. “Because you know Mel cares, even though she doesn’t express herself very well?”

“Cares about YOU, you mean. Maybe I should have just let her fan club into this place after all, might have taught her not to ignore me.”

“I’m, um, not sure that would have solved anything.”

Trixie stared at me. “You still don’t get it, do you. The big reason why I’m telling you.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “No?”

“Agh, IDIOT,” Trixie groaned, sliding her palm down her face. “Look. I thought I was finally fitting in here, James. Sure, I’m a bit of a third wheel, but I was helping out, right? With my skills? It seemed like that. Finally, the fact that I’m so smart, or so shallow, or so witchy, or so whatever, wasn’t a barrier.”

“Is this about field work again?”

Trixie pursed her lips. “Only partly. It’s about how despite being a part of this, I still craved intimacy. Which I thought I could fulfil through… you know. But now this job is screwing that up. I mean, don’t misunderstand. I won’t leave you now, not when I’m so close, but damn it, I need to be held. And to not wonder if it’s happening because I know Missy.”

“Um.” Again, I wondered if I should give her a hug. “Held, or groped? Because as a friend, I could manage the first…”

“James, connect the dots, it’s kinda the same thing for me,” she interrupted. “Which is why I’m going out now, dressed like this, despite Missy’s life possibly being in danger. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s an attempt at self-care. You get it?”

I nodded. “Okay. You have needs too, I get it,” I agreed.

“Good.” She didn’t immediately make any move for the doorway. “James… I AM helping you both out, right? With more than just the engram work? You still like having me around?”

I didn’t get a chance to answer, because that’s when the protective wards downstairs tipped us off to the presence of a new arrival. When I went to look, I saw a blonde woman with short hair, wearing glasses. She looked vaguely familiar.

“I need to talk to Melissa,” she said into the monitor, seeming a little out of breath.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Danielle. Danielle Timins.”

I knew that name. She’d been involved in my first ever Virga Mysteries case.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 4e: OF PARENTS AND PROGRAMMING

First, by August, Melissa and Trixie had toned down their sniping at each other. This was largely due to how Trixie was very preoccupied with the immense computing task we’d given her, and as such remained mostly in her room.

I realized that her inexperience with field work had been a source of insecurity, one she masked through humour and conflict, to avoid appearing stupid. So having it scaled back by choice worked out.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Meanwhile, Melissa’s own insecurity - about whether I was in love with her, or with witchcraft - was put to bed within the first couple weeks of my return. Granted, she was still vexed with how her “rival” Trixie would shake her chest at me (particularly if it was over breakfast, because there occasionally wouldn’t be a bra involved yet, and that is damn distracting) but I explained (in private) how it was a coping mechanism for Trixie.

Meanwhile, Trixie seemed to be handling her relationship issues by vanishing on Friday nights and arriving home Saturday morning looking disheveled. (“Yes, it’s what you think,” she told me once, when I asked her. “If you must know, the challenge of programming a sophisticated magical neural net gets me hot and bothered, and a vibrator is not a great way to ever find myself a permanent relationship like yours, so what do you care anyway?")

To avoid getting into deeper trouble, I simply said Trixie could talk to us if there were problems. With that, enough said about my roommates (Agency-mates?).

As far as the three factions went - recall the Crazies, who wanted Melissa dead, the Rationals, who wanted to petition her, and the Worshippers, who wanted her venerated - we didn’t see much of them. At first.

It probably helped that, with Melissa’s true location submerged, we’d put out a few false trails in other locations around the world. It’s also possible that Melissa’s parents were running interference somehow.

The first evidence that we weren’t invisible was near the end of June, when a guy refused to leave the front stoop of the apartment until he’d been allowed to touch Melissa’s hand. And present her with a rose. (“I’d almost prefer we see more of the type of people who are trying to kill me,” Melissa admitted that night. “At least I know how to handle them.”)

She did throw the rose out of the back window, over concern that it was booby-trapped. I suppose that was possible.

In July there was more of a shift. A guy came into the office claiming that he was being stalked by a demon, only to pull a bunch of files out of his briefcase and then begin a lecture on the benefits of urban fantasy entanglement.

A week after kicking him out, there was a ticking package left on our doorstep. After dunking it in water, we determined from the card that someone had tried to give Melissa a new clock. (We really should get the batteries fixed in the old one. The fact he/she didn’t know that the present wasn’t useful was somewhat heartening.)

Then the first Crazy. Someone in the apartment downstairs admitted to me that he’d let in a guy dressed in robes and a pointy hat; supposedly a knife salesman. We were out at the time, and there was no sign of the guy later.

We extended our protective wards out that day, from covering only Melissa’s apartment area to the entire building. As much for our safety as to avoid further issues with the other tenants. Also, fringe benefit, the wider net interfered with Melissa’s parents spying on us. So, one less thing for me to worry about.

Speaking of her parents, as far as I knew, they were continuing to work on the spell that would suspend all electronic activity on Earth, which would allow them to cast the ‘Merlin Reinforcement Spell’, for lack of a better phrase.

Melissa still didn’t think the latter would work, and still wasn’t sure why. If her parents knew we were working on a backup plan, they said nothing.

At any rate, none of the factions impacted our daily lives, aside from our decision to wear protective wards when out in the city. And speaking of being out, the Agency did get a number of supernatural cases that summer, though they were pretty routine.

And what is routine for us, you ask?

Let’s summarize it as: -Person comes into office with a problem (“I think there’s a curse on me” / “My garden gnomes are coming alive at night” / “My roommate has become invisible”). -Melissa (disguised) and I listen and diagnose (“It’s not a curse, there’s a devil on your left shoulder controlling your actions” / “Simple case of possession” / “Sounds more like your roommate became half an inch tall”). -We take payment and remedy the situation (“We’ll distract the devil by creating an angel on your right shoulder” / “Don’t blink, don’t look away, and tape this scroll onto their pointy hats” / “Leave this small cake out with a sign reading ‘Eat Me’.”).

For some cases, the field work is necessary (for instance, to locate the origin of a problem, so that there isn’t a new curse next week, or in that one case, to locate the tiny roommate), but all these kinds of cases tended to take less than a week from start to finish.

But make no mistake. While the cases were routine, there was definitely an uptick in supernatural events, the longer into the summer that we got. It was simply in frequency, not scale.

That is, there was nothing I know of on the order of Amy’s knife remaining as a lamp, and certainly nothing that made us think elves were about to invade from a nearby realm or anything. (Spoiler: They don’t.) But maybe these things were happening in more rural areas, so don’t get the wrong idea.

Then in early August, Alicia Wing came by. That was a big deal.

Alicia runs a small store of mystical artifacts and trinkets, the location of which is half hidden above a bookstore. She’s been Melissa’s ingredient supplier for at least the last four years, and is very tolerant of the witch’s quirks, such as her calling at three in the morning looking for an ingredient for a spell.

I’d gotten to know her reasonably well too, but had never before seen her outside of her business. Alicia had always given me the impression of being a sixty-something Chinese shut in; the white haired woman was simply there whenever we needed something, wearing traditional garb, her store perpetually cluttered and always faintly smelling of incense.

So I was a little caught off guard when she buzzed to come into our apartment building in the middle of the day, and looked to be wearing a floral print dress and straw hat.

“Mel, did you or Trixie order something from Alicia’s?” I asked.

Melissa, still sitting at her desk, looked up at me. By this point, she had dispensed with any sort of illusion spell so long as she was in the apartment, and I’d effectively returned control of the office space to her.

“Not me,” she said. “And I doubt it was Trixie - you want to risk disturbing her?”

I glanced at Trixie’s bedroom door. “Pass. Could our supplier have been recruited by one of the faction groups then?”

“Let her up and we’ll find out,” Melissa concluded.

I let Alicia come up.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I seem to be making a house call,” the older woman said as I let her in the room. “Know that this is more of a case, along with a chance to finally settle your bill.”

I stared. “Our bill?”

It struck me then that she’d always extended us so much credit that I had no idea how much we still owed to her. In a business like ours, you’re pretty much fortunate when you’re making ends meet. Then again, maybe the same could be said of Alicia.

“Your bill,” Alicia repeated back, with a hint of a smile.

I looked to Melissa once more. “Uhm, Mel, check the third file folder in the second drawer, how much DO we owe Wing’s Mystical Collectibles and Assorted Knickknacks?”

She went to have a look. Then shook her head slowly. “Did you drop a decimal when summarizing the account back in April, James?”

I went to have a look myself. “Oh. That’s not good.” I looked back at Alicia. “Please tell me we’ve at least paid you something in the last four months.”

“Something,” the older woman said, nodding. “Interest accruing can really be a problem though, can’t it?”

“Well, you’re welcome to repossess a lot of stuff,” Melissa offered. “The way things are now, I don’t think I’ll be using most of it this August, and things are a little up in the air after that.”

“I’m aware,” Alicia said. “Chosen One.”

I tried not to frown at the title. “ARE you with one of the factions…?”

“No,” Alicia assured us. “But I know this city. And they are closing in on you. At present, they’re largely cancelling each other out.”

“Cancelling out? What do you mean?” I said, at the same time as Melissa said, “I wondered about that.”

I turned to look at Melissa. “You know what she’s getting at?”

Melissa nodded. “I saw a shifty looking guy with a rifle in a trench coat at the corner last week. He was chased away by what I assume to be a small group of Worshippers. And a Rationalist got his iPad zapped and deleted by examining rather too closely our ward across the street. The one meant to protect against bladed weapons.”

“And there was a worshipper in my store looking for leads,” Alicia agreed. “She decided to move on after being subjected to a librarian’s lecture about the dangers of fantasies coming to life.”

“See James, anyone in the Crazy faction can’t attack me by conventional means,” Melissa concluded. “The Worshippers wouldn’t allow it. While the Rationals can bore Worshippers to figurative death, convincing them to give up. Unfortunately, they ignite blind rage in the Crazies, to the point where that group don’t care anymore, which is why I got that death threat in the grocery store yesterday. It’s all a cycle.”

“You mean the fact that the groups are at cross purposes has been working in our favour,” I summarized.

“Correct, but it won’t last for much longer,” Alicia cautioned.

I turned back to her. “You get that from a crystal ball or something?” I wondered.

“Or something,” Alicia repeated back, again almost smiling.

“Okay,” Melissa concluded. “So you said you had a case that would settle our debt.”

Alicia nodded. “I want you to obtain a particular mystical artifact for me. A collector who lives overseas took it from my family some time ago. If you can return it to me, I’ll consider your debt to my store paid in full.”

Melissa frowned. “One artifact? It’s worth all that?”

“It’s worth all that,” Alicia affirmed. “And it will, incidentally, retain its value regardless of your upcoming decision. Because it’s an orb that gives one the ability to look into their personal future. Even alter that future. This makes it very valuable.”

“And very difficult to get,” I reasoned. “Since if you have it, you’d see anyone else trying to obtain it.”

“Precisely,” Alicia agreed. “Except recently, Melissa’s become a bit of a focus point. Ironically, this means she’s best suited for a stealth mission into Lord Mortum’s European abode, as signs will point to her still being in this town.”

“I don’t do break and enter though,” Melissa protested. “I stay within the law, not to mention within the country.”

Alicia wasn’t about to back down. “I have a person on the inside. You can teleport right inside Mortum’s castle, at which point you merely have to deal with his security force, get the orb, and teleport out. An orb, I remind, that was in my family originally. I have the papers to prove that. Also the orb will square your financial debt to me.”

“Still a form of theft,” Melissa said, hesitating. “Have you not tried other means to obtain it?”

“I have,” Alicia assured. “He’s very stubborn.” She paused a beat. “And his security force is zombies.”

“Fuck,” Melissa swore.

I’m sure I’ve heard her do that less than a dozen times in all our history together, so for her to do it now, I knew it had to be serious.

“I have your cooperation then?” Alicia said.

Melissa’s jaw was tight. “Yes.”

“It can only be you, of course. Your other associates must remain here.”

“Understood.”

“Very well. I’ll return tomorrow with the castle layout, once you’ve made preparations.”

With that, Alicia departed, and I turned an expectant gaze upon Melissa. The emotional walls that I’d worked my way around over the last few years now seemed to be firmly back in place. She continued to look at the closed front door.

END ACT 4

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 4d: OF PARENTS AND PROGRAMMING

We remained standing that way for at least ten seconds, at which point I decided I might as well grab a piece of toast, and offer one to Melissa as well. It wasn’t until almost five minutes later that Trixie moved her head and gave a full-on blink, processing that we’d changed positions.

[caption id=“attachment_2345” align=“alignright” width=“186”] TRIXIE
Commission from Sen Yomi[/caption]

“Oh, there you are. Okay, look,” she began. “Making such an AI from scratch would be ridiculous, as I’m sure you both realize, particularly given the time constraint. But what I COULD do is take what I’ve already got coded for Rixi, and find a way of laying down the mental engrams of a real person on top.”

“Sort of like creating a virtual Melissa?” I asked.

Trixie made a face, her nose scrunching cutely. “If you insist on using HER engrams, something like that, yes.”

“Hold on,” Melissa protested. “I know enough about science to know that engrams are, first of all, hypothetical, and second of all, only valid for reliving prior traumatic events. Moreover, I don’t want Trixie screwing with my head any more than she already does on a daily basis.”

“I’m obviously using a magick component here,” Trixie explained. “To preserve engrams to a level above your typical scientific definition. And while I’m not going to say there’s no chance of complications on the technical side, on the biological side, the real person involved wouldn’t feel in a thing. In fact, I’d been thinking of using MY engrams.”

“Ahh. You’re not the Chosen One though,” Melissa fired back. Her tone was matter-of-fact, but I couldn’t escape the feeling that she was trying to claim some sort of superiority over her cousin there.

“It can be done then,” I said, in an attempt to summarize.

Trixie pulled her attention back to me, crossing and uncrossing her arms. “Yeah,” she said. “That is, I’m pretty sure.”

She finally simply clasped her hands behind her back, while simultaneously pushing out her chest, in my direction. “James, truly, you may have just given me the first actual honest to goodness challenge I’ve ever had to face in my entire life to date. I kind of love you for that.”

I then that realized her breathing rate was quicker, and her face was getting flushed. I hoped it was only excitement over the project itself.

“Ahem, must I remind you he’s taken?” Melissa cut in.

Trixie’s gaze snapped towards Melissa. “Did I SAY–”

“Um, look, Trixie, I’m glad,” I said quickly, trying to head off another argument. “Though here’s the second thing. We also need to you retroactively scrub out any information on the internet related to Melissa’s Supernatural Detective Agency, putting it in my name instead.”

Trixie turned her stare back at me, pulling herself back to her full height. “The hell? Because you thought me trying to devise a highly sophisticated neural net wasn’t challenge enough?”

“You’re the one with the IQ of 151,” Melissa murmured.

“Yeah, 151, not 515, dumbass,” she snapped.

“Sorry, Trixie,” I apologized. “I figured it would be as simple as a search and replace virus. If it can’t be done–”

“Don’t YOU start with that,” Trixie said, obviously vexed as she pointed at me. “I can do it easy, but it would take a day and there would be loopholes and my brain is kind of totally preoccupied with your first project right now. Why didn’t you lead with the simpler task?”

“I… guess we should have?” I mused.

“Right. So.” Trixie pulled the end of her ponytail into her hands, curling it about her fingers, as she again leaned towards me, now batting her eyelashes. “Can you pleeease give me at least a week with the big stuff before I look into the silly name thing?”

“We need the name thing done first,” Melissa said bluntly.

“I wasn’t asking you, Missy,” Trixie growled, this time without looking.

“She’s right though,” I said. “We’re over the three month mark, if we don’t submerge Melissa’s name fast, we’ll be faced with interruptions from all those other factions we mentioned earlier.”

“Nnngh. Three days then?” Trixie pleaded. “I have some ideas that I want to start looking at right away.” She brought a hand up to unbutton the second button on her blouse. I think the first had been unbuttoned the whole time, I’m not sure. Either way, at this point my eyes wandered, I couldn’t help it.

“No,” I asserted to Trixie’s cleavage. “Sorry.”

“Multitask,” Melissa suggested, now elbowing her way in between the two of us.

The redhead stamped her foot on the ground. “Missy, you’re never ANY fun. I’d quit this agency, if I had anything better lined up.” She pointed at me. “And James, you… you… oh God, I don’t know if I want to slap you real hard or kiss you even harder.”

“I’d STRONGLY suggest doing neither,” Melissa said.

“Fine. I’m going to my room,” Trixie concluded, storming out of the kitchen. Moments later, her door slammed. Then opened, then was slammed again for emphasis.

I looked at Melissa. “Something tells me her parents had to deal with tantrums far more than yours ever did.” My girlfriend smothered a laugh.

At least Trixie understood, in the end. We’d decided to let her stew for a day, but by the next morning, a routine online search on Melissa Virga’s real name turned up nothing. Or at least nothing related to our Melissa. But the Agency still existed, and I was in charge.

It occurred to me after the fact that if anyone else happened to have the same name as Melissa, they might be in trouble (sort of like in those Terminator movies). Mel reassured me by saying that in person, she’d be giving off certain magick vibes that were unique to spellcasters - a bit like how there’s apparently a scent on people who hang around witches long enough - along with pointing out how unusual her last name was in the first place.

I resolved to thank Trixie the next time I saw her, for her prioritizing. But then I didn’t see her until Thursday. She spent most of the intervening time in her room, working. I glanced in at one point when the door was ajar, seeing that during my absence, she’d moved in a small computer mainframe, next to the bed. Where she was asleep.

Even after I saw and thanked Trixie over breakfast, she only mumbled back a thanks, obviously preoccupied.

It wasn’t until the following Monday that Trixie surfaced from her engramatic studies, having remembered that we were owed a dinner together. Melissa agreed, even though it was technically too late per the original deal. It’s not like we were busy with cases anyway, in fact I wondered if our Agency having ceased all advertising was responsible for the lull.

I let Trixie pick the restaurant. As such, I learned that the techno-witch may have a thing for Japanese.

Trixie also wore pants for the occasion, whereas I’d thought she only owned skirts of various lengths and fabrics. And she let her hair all the way down too. I commented on that fact, as we headed out.

“Yeah, see? I can be mature. VERY mature,” Trixie said, smiling. And with that, she thrust her shoulders back, pushing her chest out into her blouse, so much so that a gap appeared between the buttons.

“Remember, nothing’s coming of this, aside from a good meal,” I pointed out.

“Uh huh. Remember that you felt you had to remind me of that,” Trixie said, wiggling her shoulders to set up vibrations.

“I say that for your sake, not mine.”

“Uh huh,” Trixie repeated, still wiggling.

With that, I ceased looking at her. At some point on our way to the restaurant, she stopped thrusting her chest out. And her possible attempts at seduction diminished even further through dinner itself, to the point that, by the time we left, she was slumped as she walked.

Of course, I also knew more about her by then, as Trixie was more of a talker than Melissa. And as I’d suspected, Trixie hadn’t had many friends in school, in part because she’d told me that she’d never been sure if they wanted to be friends for her personality or her mind. Or as she put it, “It’s no fun if people are cozying up to you for test answers.”

I wondered if maybe that’s why she’d taken to emphasizing her body the way she did, after puberty hit. Namely to remove personality and mind from the equation, so that she would always know why people were approaching her.

Trixie also admitted over dinner that she’d always had something of an interest in technology, much like her mom. In fact it was Marissa’s marriage to Wayne, a technophobe, that caused Trixie’s mother to communicate less with her sister. They weren’t estranged, to be clear, but they talked so little that Trixie hadn’t even known about Melissa’s agency until she’d been approached.

Related, her Rixi device apparently took some inspiration from Japanese anime, and a television show called ‘Martin Mystery’.

And then there was the matter of Trixie’s sex life, which I didn’t get lots of detail on (thank goodness) but apparently she’d had a couple of boyfriends. Which she brought up as more evidence of her maturity. Even though it transpired that she’d basically initiated and then broken off the relationships herself.

Not because they’d been bad in bed, more “too high maintenance”. She may have been implying she’s more into one night stands.

As we reached our street, out of the blue, Trixie straightened her posture again. “So, have you figured out why I wanted to do dinner with you yet?” she asked.

I shrugged. “To annoy Melissa,” I figured.

“Fringe benefit, but no.”

“Then to learn about me first-hand, without Melissa’s possible embellishments.”

“Kinda, but also no.”

I realized I had to think about this now. “Was it because of Melissa’s cooking?”

“No, that was an excuse, not a reason. Keep trying.”

“Uh, because you hadn’t been out on a date in a while?”

“Oh, you truly are an idiot,” Trixie sighed. “I mean, I thought the whole point of this exercise is that this wasn’t a date? Besides, I only need to dress in leather and go to a club to get a guy to buy me dinner. Which, I gotta say, would end in a way more fun way than this night is gonna.”

“Why don’t you tell me then,” I decided.

She stopped walking and fell silent, looking away from me. Then, “James, I thought I was going to be kicked out of the apartment. Before that happened, I wanted to peek into the window of a successful relationship. To see if I could learn to spot whatever Missy saw in you.” She turned back to me, her gaze questioning.

“Oh.” I felt like I should say more, but I wasn’t sure what to say. “It’ll happen for you some day,” I finished, as she kept staring.

Trixie sighed, and resumed her walk. “I wasn’t asking for platitudes, idiot. Look, did I at least seem like a normal girl towards the end of dinner? I’ve kind of forgotten how to not mess with people.”

I fell into step beside her. “You’re asking the guy dating Melissa about what’s normal?”

“Point,” Trixie admitted. “Oh well. It’s funny though, I felt like I could ask you that question, versus anyone else I’d be out with. Oh, and kind of related? On a casual basis, I’m going to keep shoving my breasts at you and doing seductive things. Just so you know to be ready.”

I held back a sigh of my own. “Trixie, there are less annoying ways to bug Melissa.”

“It’s not about Missy,” Trixie snapped. “It’s about me wanting to treat you the same as I do all other guys, James. Because if I start treating you special, I think I’ll start to care about you, and then everything will get complicated. Because of how you’re taken. Okay? Can you maybe stop saying stupid things now?”

We reached the front door of the apartment building in silence. “I wonder,” I said as we headed into the stairwell, “do you call all guys idiots, or is that more reserved for me?”

“Oh, you’re a special kind of idiot,” Trixie muttered. “In that you actually listen to me when I say that. Now, stop talking altogether, or I might want to kiss you on the cheek.”

I stopped talking.

The next day, around the apartment, Trixie wore what I think was a sheer negligee overtop of a bikini, almost like she was making up for dressing so conservatively the previous night. Or maybe she wanted to reset her life equation back to something she understood? Or show up Melissa. Trixie’s mindset was still hard for me to understand.

Regardless, at this point, I’m going to jump from the end of May to the start of August. Because that’s when everything started to come to a head, including a case that came to us courtesy of a visit by Alicia Wing.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 4c: OF PARENTS AND PROGRAMMING

Melissa’s expression morphed into a frown. “None on Trixie’s level. Even witches thirty years her senior aren’t at her level. Plus I don’t want to tell a stranger about all this Prophecy stuff.”

“Okay. So…?”

Melissa groaned, pressing her palm to her forehead. “Uggghh, it really has to be Trixie, doesn’t it. Of all the… James, is it okay if you’re there when I’m talking about it with her? The two of us are always bickering, and I don’t want to do that with something so important.”

“Sure, Mel, anything I can do.”

“Thanks so much.” And Melissa spontaneously reached out to hug me. “Not only for being there, but for seeing another path forwards here.”

I tried to hug back, despite my arms being trapped by the hug. “It’s fine. You’d have done the same for me.”

“For sure.” She pulled back. “Now, if only we can find a way for me to keep living my life too, despite all this insanity going on. Because I love my parents, but I don’t want to stay with them for months. Particularly not while you and Trixie are off… programming together.”

There was a bit of a hesitation there, which implies to me that Melissa wasn’t only thinking about programming. Seemingly still a bit unsure about my love for her, over any possible lust for Trixie. And to be fair, the last time I’d seen Trixie, she’d been blowing me a kiss back at the motel room, so maybe she wasn’t someone to be casually dismissed.

“Maybe we can move your business to Outer Mongolia,” I quipped.

“Hah. I get the impression these three factions would find me regardless,” Melissa sighed. “No, I think our Agency is done for, given how my name’s tied to it and everything.”

My dad’s remark from earlier in the day came back to me at that point. “Okay, so what if we replace your name with my name.”

Melissa did a double take. “Pardon?”

“What if we put your supernatural agency in my name,” I insisted. “Retroactively even, if there’s a spell for that, so that anyone looking into past cases wouldn’t turn you up at all. This way, we’d still be able to function locally, and any clients we already have would recognize me. Unless you had a ton in the year before I came on board.”

Melissa’s thoughtful expression was back. “We’d need to take that website down that you put up last year, and ideally scrub any trace of me from browser searches – damn it, I think we’ll need Trixie’s help with that one too – but it could work. I can even still be there with you, if I disguise my appearance. My parents shouldn’t object to that, they’ve done it often enough.”

“I’ll take down those old case files too,” I added. “The ones I put online.”

Melissa waved me off. “Don’t bother, you called me Melissa or something in those, right? Might even get people to chase false leads.” She frowned. “Of course, if we do this, I’ll want your assurance that you don’t leave the office without some form of magick protection. Even if it’s only a ward from our usual distributor. After all, the last thing I want to do is put your life in danger simply because I can be kinda stubborn.”

I half smiled. “You, Mel? Stubborn?”

“Ha ha. Promise me, James, you’ll use protection.”

I resisted the urge to interpret that in another way. “I promise, of course,” I said, raising a hand to my heart for emphasis. Then I beamed. “See? Problems practically solved. I knew you had it in you.”

She smiled, and blushed faintly too. “Couldn’t have done it without you. Thanks for that.”

Before I knew it, we were kissing. It was nice. It progressed to french kissing. Then I was somewhat climbing on top of her, and she was pulling my shirt up out of my pants, running her hands around on my back. It was after her leg had hooked around me while I was cupping a breast that Melissa’s hand shot up, pushing my head to the side.

“James… James, no, wait,” she panted.

I swallowed, regaining a measure of awareness. “Right. Not in your parents' house.”

Melissa’s chest heaved. “I was thinking more we’re real close to disrupting the salt circle here, which would sever the connection back to our kitchen. But yes, good call about my parents' place too, yes.”

We carefully disentangled ourselves. “Maybe later?” I said, half heartedly.

Melissa gave me a look. “James, remember earlier, when I said I only missed the casual sex a little bit?”

I nodded. I have a photographic memory, after all.

“I’m now realizing it was more than a bit,” she admitted. “Three weeks is a long time, even if I was on my period for part of it.”

I wasn’t sure if Melissa bringing that up was her being blunt, or an attempt to douse my flames of passion. Either way, I started tucking in my shirt. “Let’s say definitely later then,” I rephrased.

She smiled, then turned to the pantry door. “For now, I guess I go back and apologize. Let’s wait on hitting my parents with the Agency name plan until after mom’s pie though? And let’s not tell them about the technology idea at all… it’ll only upset my mother.”

“Okay then,” I said, managing to avoid saying how much Melissa seemed to be acting like her mother now. “You think it will take a lot of convincing?”

Melissa set her jaw. “I don’t care if it does. After all, I’m the one the Prophecy is impacting the most, and it’s my life.”

In the end, as soon as Marissa and Wayne saw how determined (stubborn?) Melissa was about her idea, her parents went along with us. Also, the dazzleberry pie was quite good. I only learned later that it was somehow a mix of both fruits and vegetables.

There was, incidentally, a compromise. Melissa also agreed to have a magick listening device in our apartment, to pick up on any kind of trouble, so her parents wouldn’t worry.

I suspected this was also Wayne’s way of keeping tabs on me. Given his suggestion that we still consider living apart, “just to try it out for a while longer”. But no, I’d had enough time away from Melissa, and by now I was more than happy to be be back in my girlfriend’s apartment. In fact, owing to Trixie’s presence, I was also permanently sharing Mel’s bed.

Now, mind out of the gutter, we weren’t having sex all the time. Not with her parents spying, and the wall between Melissa and Trixie’s room not being all that thick. Seriously, you can’t get any alone time in that kind of environment, not without a good soundproofing spell, one which doesn’t require constant concentration after casting.

Melissa does know one. That’s enough about that.

We spoke to Trixie on Sunday morning over breakfast. She had sounded like she was home when we returned late the previous night, but we decided not to disturb her.

After we came into the kitchen, I started by making Trixie promise not to make any commentary until we’d laid out the entire situation for her.

[caption id=“attachment_2345” align=“alignright” width=“186”] TRIXIE
Commission from Sen Yomi[/caption]

“I’ll save you time. If you’re getting married, and want me to be the maid of honour, no thanks,” Trixie said, munching on a waffle. She was eating it straight out of the toaster.

“This is not about the relationship between me and Mel,” I assured her. “Not directly.”

“You’re just kicking me out of here under some other pretext, is that it?”

“No.”

Melissa sighed. “Can you not make commentary about a promise to not make commentary? I mean really.”

Trixie sniffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot I was talking to the person who never commented about me at all for four years.”

I sidestepped, so that I was between them, but looking at the redhead. “Trixie, please?” I requested.

She looked at me, and took another bite of her waffle. For reference, at this point in the morning Trixie was not sporting twintails yet, but instead had yanked all her hair back into one ponytail that fell between her shoulder blades. It helped her look more mature.

“Tell you what, James,” Trixie decided, after chewing and swallowing. “I’ll do it under condition that I’m allowed to take you out for dinner this week.”

“Trix, you’re not dating my boyfriend,” Melissa objected.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I say date? I said dinner. I think James would appreciate one night of not having to deal with a blue cheese casserole with lemon juice, or whatever the heck it was I saw in the fridge last night.”

“Lime juice. It clears the sinuses,” Melissa grumbled. She was quieter though, I suppose annoyed that she’d been caught acting insecure.

I also had to admit that Trixie had a point. I’d tried to do as much of the cooking as I could when I lived here.

“We can go to dinner,” I agreed slowly. “As long as you’re aware that it won’t lead to anything.”

“Ooh, anything? Both of your minds are just in the gutter then, huh?” Trixie said. As if to capitalize on that, she made a point of adjusting the tall stockings she was wearing (even so, they still failed to reach the hem of her red skirt) and adjusting her white satin blouse (practically fluffing her cleavage).

It’s possible I stared at that a bit more than I should have.

“Agh, I wish we didn’t need her,” Melissa sighed behind me.

That helped snap me out of it, and when I turned to glance at Melissa, she was pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose. I looked back at Trixie. “Okay, so let us explain,” I said. “No commentary.”

Trixie smiled, but nodded. And so Melissa and I laid out the whole Prophecy and Chosen One situation, along with the factions and the idea that someone - maybe Merlin - had been dealing with supernatural balance for centuries. Trixie’s smile faded, and I think she literally bit down on her tongue a couple times, but she kept up her end of the bargain.

“So with that said,” I eventually concluded, “we need your help with a couple things.” Trixie’s hand shot up, implying she wanted to talk first.

“Go ahead,” I yielded.

Trixie took in a deep breath, then let it out. “Okay, hold on.” She walked all the way around Melissa, who incidentally had merely pulled on another pair of jeans and an oversized green T-shirt after getting up.

“Okay,” Trixie began again. “So you’re telling me that Missy, my plain looking, fashion impaired, socially backwards witch cousin… is going to be single-handedly responsible for deciding whether Earth goes all Shadowrun??”

“Don’t overdramatize,” Melissa said in annoyance. “And what do running shadows have to do with it?”

“Shadowrun. It’s a roleplay game where cybernetics meets urban fantasy. Supernatural creatures and technology, living together. More culture you’ve missed out on.”

“You roleplay?” I said to Trixie in surprise. I didn’t know Shadowrun, but I knew what she was getting at. She hadn’t really struck me as the type of person able to work well in a group.

“Well, no,” the redhead admitted. She shifted her gaze away from me then. “I read fanfic. There’s not much point roleplaying, because I’d never be able to generate a character more interesting than I already am.”

“I’m sure,” Melissa said dryly. “You also seem to think you can get whatever you like by giggling and looking cute, which I imagine is more difficult to manage online.”

“Oh pssh,” Trixie said dismissively, waving her arm. “I get whatever I like by using my high IQ of 151. The giggling and looking cute merely makes other people – especially men – feel better about surrendering themselves to my intellect.”

“You mean surrendering themselves to your–”

“We’re straying from the point,” I insisted, before Melissa could finish her thought. “Namely that, Trixie, do you think your mind would be capable of coding up some sort of artificial intelligence, which would be capable of handling the world’s supernatural balance issues in Melissa’s place?”

The ponytailed witch snapped her gaze over towards me, shocked. She opened her mouth as if to respond, then closed it, then opened it again, then her brow furrowed. “Euh.”

“See, James, I told you this would be beyond our capabilities to resolve in three months,” Melissa said.

“Shut up, Melissa, I’m thinking,” Trixie snapped.

Not Missy, Melissa. This was one of the first times for me to see Trixie going into full-on serious mode. Even as I processed this, she began mumbling to herself.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 4b: OF PARENTS AND PROGRAMMING

“Are you saying rationals because their arguments will always be rational?” I wondered.

Marissa rolled her eyes. “No, more because they rationalize."

“And the last group is the Worshippers,” Wayne finished. “Those who believe you’re the greatest thing since slicing bread, or whatever. Their logic is that if they grant Melissa prayers and favours now, good fortune will shine upon them no matter how the final decision comes down.”

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Mel’s expression morphed into one of disbelief, a good approximation of how her mother had appeared a few minutes earlier. “Worship ME? But how could anyone…” She paused, looked in my direction, then back to her parents. “I mean, that still makes no sense. I didn’t open a supernatural agency for more notoriety, and most clients find me, um, abrasive.”

“Sometimes you’ve got to tell it like it is,” Wayne said, nodding.

“Also, some men like strong women,” Marissa said, with a hint of a smile. She then glanced in my direction too.

“Hey, well, Trixie will ensure that any public adoration doesn’t go to your head,” I offered, trying to find a way to reassure my girlfriend, not to mention move the spotlight away from me. “For however long she’s around the Agency.”

“Ah, yes, about that,” Marissa said. “Melissa dear, you probably shouldn’t operate your supernatural agency over the next three months. It would be like painting a target on yourself. In fact, part of the reason we wanted you here now was to get you to start laying low, where none of those various factions will be able to find you.”

“I also think it’s best if you don’t see James from this point on,” Wayne added, looking sidelong at me. “As much for his safety as anything else, otherwise people may use him to try and influence you.”

Mel bristled. “Wait. Are you asking me to stay here for several months, while you send James away to shut down my Agency?”

“It’s an option,” her father agreed. “Plus, if things go wrong in three months time, you might not be able to continue your relationships anyway, so I think it’s best to end them now, at a time of your choosing.”

“MY choosing?” Mel yelped.

“Don’t worry about what your father says, darling, things won’t go wrong,” Marissa said, glaring at her husband pointedly. “You see how practical this is though, yes?”

I should mention here that, as of this point in my life, I had only seen Mel suffer an emotional breakdown once before. It had happened when dealing with one of her old high school friends, Eric, who had been attempting to contact people from beyond the grave. Some lines you just should not cross, and Mel had been forced to cross those lines herself when dealing with both Eric and another witch named Melody.

That case, coupled with being confronted with her controlling nature at an inopportune time, had almost devastated Mel. Yet at this point in the meal (if you can still call it a meal), I wondered if my girlfriend was about to suffer a second meltdown.

“So,” the young brunette said coldly, and I’d say only barely managing to rein in the emotions I’d seen flickering across her face. “In one shot, you’ve come back into my life, only to suggest I eliminate my livelihood, my boyfriend, and even my choice in deciding how this Prophecy thing will play out,” she said. Her jaw clenched, and I could picture her hands curling and uncurling into fists under the level of the table too. “Do I have that right, mother? Father? Tell me I don’t have that right.”

Her parents didn’t immediately answer, choosing instead to exchange glances one more time.

“She’s not wrong,” Wayne said at last.

Marissa winced. “Well…”

“Both of you, go to hell,” Mel exploded at that, standing up. She threw her napkin down onto the table and stormed out of the room before either of them had a chance to speak again.

Marissa’s expression was now much the same as when her daughter had used sarcasm. “Wayne dear, what was that?”

“A tantrum?” Wayne mused in surprise. “She’s never done that before. What happened to the calm, rational teenager we raised?” His gaze slid to me.

“Your daughter grew up,” I pointed out. “While you were off trying to make her decisions for her.”

Realizing such a comment may have been overstepping my bounds (not to mention thinking a fast exit would be prudent without Mel around to back me up) I added, “But let me go and talk to her for you.”

I rose and swiftly headed out after the girl I’d fallen in love with.

As I left, I heard Marissa say to her husband, sounding very irritated: “I told you we should have eaten the pie first.”

I found Melissa curled up into a ball in the pantry, having pulled a tissue out of her handbag for dabbing at her eyes, though I didn’t see any tear streaks.

She looked up as I entered, her expression momentarily angry, until she registered who I was, at which point she merely hooked her arms a little tighter around her legs and stared back at the floor.

There was barely enough room for me to sit down next to her without disturbing the salt circle, but that’s what I did. I then waited, to let her have the first word.

“I forgot I didn’t have a proper room to storm off to here,” Melissa admitted eventually. “What with my parents having moved. This was all I could think of.”

“Just as well, I only know how to navigate three rooms in your parents’ place too.”

She snickered. “I suppose I should have actually practiced this back when I was a teenager. Were my parents confused?”

“Surprised,” I stated. “I came to find you myself, by the way, they didn’t send me.”

The brunette witch turned to look at me again. “The worst of it is, despite what I said, I don’t think I can really blame my parents. They’re on my side here, looking out for me, like always. The problem is this Prophecy nonsense.”

“Which they kept secret from you,” I pointed out.

“Out of concern,” Melissa insisted. “And to do research.”

I nodded. “Okay, so they may be looking out for you, but you really should get to have a say in their decisions,” I added. “I mean, imagine where we’d be if my parents had unilaterally decided to find me different lodgings three years ago, rather than letting me stay with you over the summer. Our whole relationship would never have happened.”

“I guess,” Melissa said dubiously. “But I want to keep you from being a target, and keep myself from being some object of worship, just as much as my parents do. They know that.” She hugged herself even tighter before releasing her legs. “I’m going to have to agree to stay, aren’t I.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I insisted. “There’s always options, so let’s take a moment to think about this.”

Melissa sat quietly for a short time, then shook her head. “I can’t concentrate. I’m still reeling at how supernatural balance, the thing I’ve been striving to maintain, is suddenly being handed over to me to fix. Me! I didn’t expect to have the whole world on my shoulders when I got up this morning.”

“It’s not really something you can prepare for,” I granted. “Of course, if this plan of your parents works, you may not have to make the decision. That’s the real problem here, isn’t it? That they’re taking this opportunity away?”

She didn’t answer, but I like to think I know Melissa pretty well by now.

I reached out to grasp her by the hand. “Mel, don’t think about this, but right now, off the top of your head, tell me, DO want to be the one to make that call?”

“Gods no.”

“But do you think you’re the right one to make that call?”

“Yes.” She seemed surprised by her own admission.

“There you go then,” I concluded, releasing her. “Now we need to think about why. How about you start with that.”

Her lips pursed slightly. “Huh. I… I guess… if I was chosen out of everybody on Earth, I feel like it means something. Like the Agency means something. Like, not that I should be worshipped, but that my work is important. And that if I pass the buck to someone else on this one, I’d be shirking my responsibility.”

“Stuff like this happens for a reason, even if it’s one that’s not immediately obvious,” I attempted to rephrase.

Melissa nodded. “Not to bring religion or fate into this, but yeah.”

“Which way would your decision go then?”

“Well, towards keeping the balance, obviously,” Melissa replied. “Order above chaos. Thing is, I don’t think I’m ready to handle being a Merlin. I’m barely into my twenties, and now I’ll be doing the balancing job myself, out in the ether, for some indeterminate amount of time? That’s huge.”

“Then what’s wrong with the solution offered by your parents? Surely Merlin is ready to handle being Merlin, and in the end, supernatural balance will still be restored. This will also give the witches of the world time to figure out a better solution, because the situation seems to be getting more press than it was 300 years ago.”

Melissa pushed her legs out, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, when you put it that way, there’s no issue.”

“Yet there’s something.”

“Yet there’s something,” she repeated back. “It’s weird. The more I think about it, the more I don’t think my parents' plan is going to work. I can’t put my finger on why.” She frowned. “I wish they’d given me more time to figure it out by myself. Three months isn’t enough time.”

“Okay. So their idea won’t work, but you’re not sure if you can restore order all by yourself,” I summarized. “Meaning we simply come up with a new plan by ourselves.”

She turned to stare at me, smirking. “Oh, right, as easy as that?”

“Why not? I don’t think you’ve lost a supernatural case yet, Mel.”

“There was that one last year, with the pixies.”

I shook my head. “You gave that up voluntarily. Besides, being this Chosen One probably gives you a certain degree of extra insight.” She still looked a bit dubious, so I tossed in, “We can even make it official Agency business, bringing Trixie and her IQ in on it, if that would help.”

“Joy,” Melissa said dryly, I suspect trying to determine if I was joking. “I don’t think Trixie will save the day, James. She’s more into technology, the very thing interfering with my parents’ spell. The only way that girl would be useful is if…” Her voice trailed off, and Melissa looked thoughtful.

“I hope you’re not proposing sacrificing her,” I joked after a minute.

“Don’t tempt me,” Melissa murmured. “No, it’s the technology aspect. Could there be some way of writing a program to handle supernatural balance in my place?”

I blinked in surprise. “Artificial intelligence?”

“Kinda? I mean, it would require integrating technology with magick, but Trixie’s already managed that, insofar as her Rixi is linked to her storage space. That’s not a common thing by the way. For all her shortcomings, even I have to admit that, from a technical standpoint, she really is brilliant.”

I nodded. “Okay, so programming may be the answer. Which doesn’t have to be Trixie. Maybe your parents would be better at handling it?”

Melissa laughed. “Oh, Gods, no, my dad’s even more of a technophobe than me, and by now my mom is dead set on her way of doing things, seeing as she’s invested so much in it already.” She tapped her finger on the floor. “But maybe, another techno-witch…?”

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 4a: OF PARENTS AND PROGRAMMING

“But why target me?” Mel said, the frustration in her voice obvious to me, and likely everyone in the room.

Marissa sighed. “Melissa, if we tell you, do you promise that you’ll continue to let us handle it our way?”

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“Oh, of course, seeing as your way seems to involve me continually getting attacked,” Mel grumbled.

This time Marissa simply looked startled. “Melissa, did you just get… sarcastic with us?” Marissa shifted her look of disbelief on to me, her expression morphing into one of disapproval. Her father also looked my way.

Caught under the microscope, I found I could only shrug and smile back wanly. “Yeah, maybe she picked that up from me?” I said apologetically.

“Well, this is what we wanted. Less pure analysis, more emotionalism,” Wayne remarked, briefly drumming his fingers on the table.

“Perhaps we should have been monitoring the situation more closely though,” Marissa said, frowning in concern. “Oracles don’t get sarcasm, they take that sort of thing very literally.”

“Well, you know what I think we should have done all along,” Wayne countered, ceasing his drumming to cross his arms.

“Don’t be silly, dear, she’d have spotted a magick listening device in her apartment from a mile away.”

“Hello! Still in the room,” Mel said, seemingly gaining strength as her anger and exasperation started to bubble over. “What. Aren’t. You. Telling. Me.”

As a matter of fact, the way the tables had been completely turned on her usual know-it-all attitude, this might have been humorous under other circumstances. Poor Mel really was out of her element here.

Marissa sighed again. “Very well. Melissa, darling… in about three months time, you will be given a choice. Namely whether to have the supernatural balance of Earth completely restored, or completely shattered.”

Mel peered closer at Marissa, looking for a hint of deception.

“In the former case,” Mel’s mother clarified, “the rules would again be fully enforced, no magick would be done without appropriate consequences, and other realms would be completely shut out, preventing bleed over. In the latter case, supernatural beings would be seen with increasing frequency, and magick could be done not only by more individuals, but wielded against those without implicit consent.”

Mel made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Well, that’s a no brainer. Given order or chaos, I pick order. Let’s do it now and get it over with.”

“Unluckily, it’s not quite so cut and dried,” her father said, frowning. “For one thing, maybe the world could use a little shake-up before everyone becomes tied to the supernatural that at present exists only in their little electronic virtual worlds. While automation keeps taking over every industry, and destroying people’s imaginations.”

“Another rather more key fact,” Marissa put in, “is that if you choose to restore the balance – Melissa, you’re the one who will have to monitor and maintain that balance. Indefinitely.”

Mel stared at her parents before shaking her head. “You’ve lost me.”

“Go back to Merlin,” Wayne suggested.

“We don’t know that it’s Merlin,” his wife countered. “All we know for sure is that there is actually someone doing that job now, and that they’ve been doing it for hundreds of years. Trouble is, over time, they’ve lost perspective, and possibly their magick has become corrupted.”

“Which Merlin was smart enough to foresee,” Wayne remarked, stubbornly insisting on using the name. “Hence why he put in this ‘give a promising young witch or wizard a chance to make a choice’ clause that we’re currently faced with. Melissa, you’ll probably want to do the same, if you take over his job.”

With that, Wayne picked up his fork and cut into his pie.

“Dear, how can you eat at a time like this?” Marissa said.

“Hey, now that the truth is out there, I actually feel a whole lot better,” Wayne countered with a shrug. “Not to mention, still hungry.”

Mel still looked a bit uncertain about the whole thing, so I decided to speak up again. “Can I see if I have the gist of this?” I asked. Everyone turned to look at me, and no one objected to my speaking. “So, back in the 12th century, Merlin…”

“Fifth,” Wayne interrupted. “While his stories were from the 12th century, the actual events surrounding Merlin occurred about 700 years before.”

“And we don’t know it was Merlin,” Marissa reminded.

“So, many centuries ago, someone decided that they would monitor the supernatural balance on Earth,” I continued doggedly. “Or possibly they decided to take the job over from someone else, starting at that point. But said person knew that they couldn’t keep it up forever, thus put in some magick clause. And now, in our present, another will be Chosen to either dissolve the position entirely, or take over.”

“Correct,” Marissa said.

I leaned in. “Is it fair to extrapolate, and say that the increase in supernatural incursions over the last few years or decades is because of the current office holder starting to fail at their job?”

“Also likely,” Marissa agreed.

Wayne didn’t respond, as he was now eating his pie.

“Is there some significance as to why August of this year is the turnover?” I continued.

“Not that we’ve been able to determine. Seems random,” answered Mel’s mother.

“Why ME?” Mel said, speaking up again. “I mean, this seems huge. Shouldn’t this be the sort of thing decided by someone older? Or by a full committee, or voted on by a majority of Earth’s population or something?”

“Only one person gets to run this show,” Marissa said in resignation. “As to why you were one of those chosen to receive the earlier Prophecy, and in fact now seem to be the selected Chosen One, all I can say is that power seeks out those who won’t abuse it. Among those, you’ve apparently seemed the most fanatic, or the most insightful, with respect to issues of supernatural balance.”

“The spell needed to choose someone young too,” Wayne said offhandedly between bites. “Given the job takes centuries, you’ll want to start early. Then again, maybe there was a lack of correction factor for how long people live these days?”

“So, then… I have three months to decide whether I want this job, or whether I want to plunge the Earth into chaos,” Melissa said, numbly.

“Well, that’s just it, not necessarily,” Marissa said, now looking a bit happier. “We’ve found a work-around. A spell which can be performed to re-energize the person already managing the supernatural balance.”

“Merlin,” Wayne noted, with his mouth half full of pie.

Marissa shot her husband a look before continuing. “The spell itself will reverse any magick corruption and put off the problem for several centuries, getting you off the hook.” She smiled at her daughter.

“Put that way, it seems like we’re merely delaying the situation, sticking it on someone else,” Mel pointed out.

“Well, yes," Marissa yielded. “But if you ask me, that’s what was happening anyway. As things are now, you’d end up on the hook for handing the balancing act, until you’d also have to look towards sticking the problem on someone else. With our plan, the only difference is that we skip over your involvement, so that you can live out a proper life.”

I shook my head. It didn’t seem like passing the buck could be as easy as Marissa made it out to be. Otherwise surely this solution would have been attempted already. I said as much, also suggesting, “Is it that the spell itself is incredibly complicated?”

“Oh no,” Marissa said dismissively. “Spell’s fairly simple, just needs about five people to cast. They do give up some of their own essence, but we already found some volunteers for that, myself included.”

“Then what’s the twist?” I pressed.

“The spell can’t be focused onto the right place while there’s electronic devices functioning on the planet,” Wayne said, dropping his fork back down onto his empty plate. “There’s your twist, it’s all about the bloody tech. Well, and related to that, there’s the fact that this spell hasn’t been cast in 300 years, but it seems legit.”

I stared. “You mean to make this work, you have to hit the Earth with some kind of giant electromagnetic pulse first??” I said in shock.

“Oh, of course not, that would be terribly irresponsible,” Wayne objected, shaking his head. “Planes dropping out of the sky, life support machines failing, food spoiling in refrigerators…”

“We have found a way of shutting down, or rather, suspending the entire world’s electronic infrastructure,” Marissa cut back in. “With another spell. For only the couple of seconds we need. But the coordination involved in that is rather intense; we’re still pulling together a group of people both willing and able to invoke it.”

“So that’s the more difficult spell,” I realized.

“Partly,” Marissa yielded. “Also, it’s been determined that the optimal time to shut down all electronics is right around the time when the prophecy decision is going to be handed down anyway.”

“Globally speaking, we need a time with the fewest vehicles on the road, the least number of surgical operations in progress, all those sorts of variables,” Wayne muttered. “And yet it’s always daylight somewhere, so there’s lots to coordinate.”

“I have wondered if the timing of both events is not coincidence,” Marissa admitted. “A calmer time also being good for handing over the responsibility of the balance, assuming it’s not released entirely.”

Mel cleared her throat. “But then, what you’re saying is that I won’t have to make this decision after all.”

“That’s the plan, yes,” Marissa agreed with a smile.

“So what if I want to?”

Marissa’s smile faded. “Anyone wanting to make such a decision probably shouldn’t. But even so, Melissa, why would you take on such a huge responsibility? Honestly, we’d rather hoped to have it all figured out by now, such that you wouldn’t have had to deal with ANY of the Prophecy’s consequences, chief among them being those beings trying to kill you. Obviously, we’ve fallen short. For that, we are sorry.”

The young witch’s forehead creased slightly. “You were going to tell me all this either way though, yes?” There was a pause as her parents exchanged glances yet another time. “YES?”

“Doing that would have been the responsible choice, of course,” Wayne seemed to hedge. “As I’m sure you would have worked it all out eventually.”

Mel’s mother went for a slight shift in the topic. “So as things stand, Melissa, I’m afraid you’re liable to be accosted by three types of people over the summer. Based on our research, and owing to the three-month window between your official nomination, as it were, and the actual decision.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Mel sighed.

“The first group, as you saw, is the crazy ones, who believe that killing you will resolve this entire supernatural balance problem,” Wayne said, seizing the topic shift.

“Will it?” Mel interjected.

“No, darling, don’t be silly,” Marissa said, gesturing vaguely. “The decision would just pass on to one of the other Chosen Ones in the world, we said there were a few. But I suppose when you’re crazy, you think you can eliminate them all, or perhaps it’s merely that they believe one of the others would have viewpoints more compatible with them.”

“Who knows, when you don’t perceive reality properly?” Wayne muttered. “Figures one of them would be a lycan.”

“Couldn’t one of the other possible Chosen Ones send out a hit squad or something too?” I interjected. “To take out Mel and the other candidates?”

“It’s unlikely that they’d want to pull the attention towards themselves,” Marissa pointed out. “But even if that were the case, the Prophecy itself would then reject them as being a suitable candidate for deciding the balance.”

“Merlin still has some control,” Wayne agreed.

Marissa looked towards her husband. “Would you stop already with the Merl–”

“We’re getting off track,” Mel interjected. “Who are the other groups? Who will be after me, aside from the Crazies?”

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 3e: OF LYCANS AND PROPHECIES

Once I could see inside, I took note of the circle of salt on the floor. “Ah! Teleporting,” I concluded. Not to be confused with a circle of flour, used for transformations.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“Seemed easiest," Melissa said. “They actually moved away from the town I grew up in, once I graduated from high school. They also prefer to keep to themselves, so infrequent teleportation visits not only mean I can find them anywhere, but that they can continue to keep people from tracking them down using more routine methods. Like following me.”

I moved into the kitchen. “I suppose their reclusive ways explains why I’ve never met them before,” I remarked.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, they get out and do stuff like normal people,” Melissa assured. “They just tend to do so in other guises. They were at my University graduation last year, for example.”

I blinked. “What? When?”

“That time I went over to talk to what I said was a couple of my former classmates. It was actually my parents.”

“Your parents…” I searched my memory. “The couple of twentysomethings with dark hair and tie dyed shirts…??”

“That was them. Made to look thirty years younger, of course.” Melissa pressed an index finger to the side of her mouth. “Come to think, they’re a bit quirky too, by your definition. Hereditary trait?”

“I guess this will be interesting then,” was all I could think to say.

Melissa smiled reassuringly as we moved into the circle. “Don’t worry about it. Now, as soon as my parents have mentally given their consent for teleport, the spell should activ—”

I found myself in another salt circle, seemingly in a pantry. In fact, the box of salt that had been used for the circle was still right in front of me.

Melissa had remained with me, and setting her handbag aside, she dusted her hands off on her jeans before heading out into the next room, which had to be the kitchen. I poked my head around the door a little more tentatively.

“Hello, mother,” Melissa said brightly, hugging the woman standing by the stove.

“Melissa, darling, good to have you back… and that must be James?”

“Uhm, hey,” I said, stepping out and waving as I realized I’d been seen.

Perhaps it’s a cliché to say this, but Melissa’s mother really did look like an older version of her daughter. Same wavy brown hair, if a bit shorter, same piercing green eyes… I suppose Marissa had an inch of extra height, but other than that…

Then again, I guess you could say their choices of attire were different too. Melissa’s mother actually sported a floor length dress in pale yellow, a contrast to her daughter’s jeans and green t-shirt.

(And if any of you are wondering why, given that this tale is using changed names, I picked ones that were so similar for the Melissa/Marissa, their real names were also very similar. Deal with it. Though, fair point, text medium, no visuals… maybe I’ll refer to Melissa as Mel for this portion of the tale? And I’ll fix this in editing.)

I paused here, not sure if Mel was going to do introductions, but I suppose she figured she’d taken care of that before the teleport. “So, um, do you prefer Marissa or Mrs. Virga?” I asked.

“Eventually you can call me Judge and Jury,” the older Virga quipped. “Though Marissa is fine for now.”

Said in a very non-confrontational tone, so maybe she had some of the humour that I’d always felt I had to teach to her daughter.

“We’re working up to Executioner, huh?” I responded in kind.

“I’m the Executioner,” came a voice from behind me.

I turned, to see what had to be Wayne Black entering the room. A huge contrast to Mel, he was just below six feet tall, wearing a dress shirt and black tie, leading me to wonder if my golf shirt was a bit too informal here. He had what might be described as chiseled good looks, including shorter dark hair with no real sign of baldness (are there spells to handle that?), and he was wearing glasses while carrying a newspaper.

Mel also has a pair of reading glasses, so maybe that was from his side of the family. Of more immediate concern, his tone had held none of the lightheartedness of his wife, making me swallow.

“Wayne, dear, give us a chance to work up to that,” Marissa said. I glanced back in her direction; now I could no longer tell if she was joking or not.

“Yeah, uh… is there a room where I can sit down? Out of the way?” I asked.

“I can show you both to the sitting room,” Wayne offered.

“Well, only if there’s nothing I can help with here,” Mel put in. “Any vegetables to chop or herbs to enchant?”

“It’s fine,” Marissa assured her daughter. “We’re actually going more traditional for James’ sake, with a lasagna. That said you’re welcome to add some marmalade to your individual salad course; I think I will.”

Checkmark for where Mel might have gotten her dining habits.

Around this point I realized I was classifying her personal quirks merely out of nerves, and decided I should stop that and think of an actual topic of conversation instead. Unfortunately, the only things coming to mind were sports or the weather. And geographically, I didn’t even know where on Earth we were. The kitchen didn’t have any windows.

“Let’s head to the next room then,” Wayne repeated.

With no other suggestions, this seemed as good an option as anything.

I lucked out a bit though, in that Mel started chatting with her dad about her latest case about the vampyre, and from there we went to Wayne’s line of work and some of his recent customers, so I didn’t have to do much talking. Even the few questions Mel’s dad pitched at me didn’t seem out of line, related to my degree or my feelings towards his daughter, so I was starting to feel much more relaxed by the time Marissa called us to the dinner table.

We each sat across from our respective partners, the table itself being closer to a square in shape than a long rectangle.

It was during dinner that I realized there was something not quite right. Namely, Mel’s parents were avoiding certain topics. Mel had mentioned the Prophecy thing twice by now, and in each case the subject was changed.

She didn’t seem to have noticed.

Wayne and Marissa also seemed to be gently probing into her relationship with me for more than her job situation, and I saw her father’s gaze seem hopeful when she mentioned how we’d just spent three weeks apart. Only for it to turn disapproving when it became obvious that we’d had intimate relations already. As Marissa served the dessert – some sort of pie – I finally couldn’t keep my suspicions to myself.

“Okay, help me out here,” I said. “Is there a chance Mel is actually some sort of Chosen One, to the point where you’re concerned about my relationship with her? Because you seem to be avoiding any direct discussion about that.”

Mel shot me a look of gratitude then, helping me to realize that she’d picked up on something of the sort, but had been hesitant to challenge her parents on it.

Wayne and Marissa exchanged a glance.

“Your answer is yes, and we’re thinking maybe you shouldn’t see each other for the next few months,” her father responded.

“Wayne, we were going to wait until after the dazzleberry pie,” his wife admonished.

“He brought it up,” her husband pointed out.

Marissa sighed. “You didn’t have to answer so bluntly.”

“Not see each other? Excuse me, you were going to tell me this exactly WHEN?” Mel demanded.

“After the pie, dear,” Marissa soothed. “Is it so bad? You’ve been apart for all these weeks already.”

“He’s already moved his stuff back in,” Mel countered. “Why would you even tell me how to live my life all of a sudden? That’s not like you.”

Marissa exchanged a glance with her husband. “Honestly, we were hoping to have the Prophecy problem solved by now.”

“Bloody technological advancements of the human race,” Wayne groused.

“Hi, sorry. Maybe you should back up to the beginning?” I requested, slowly raising my hand. I knew I’d be lost otherwise.

Her parents looked to me, and Marissa finally pushed her pie a short distance away so that she could clasp her hands on the table. “Very well. Do I assume you already know about the Prophecy that led my daughter to start up her agency, James?”

I blinked. “Um, no,” I admitted, bringing my hand back down.

I supposed I’d never asked. And while Mel wasn’t as uncommunicative as she’d been when we met, as you’ve seen, she still doesn’t tend to volunteer information.

“That wasn’t exactly a Prophecy,” Mel countered. She turned to look at me too. “It’s more a psychic reading that magick families can avail themselves of, once their children turn eighteen. I’d been trying to decide whether I should focus my supernatural interests in a more spiritual way, or a more practical one.”

“We thought it would provide guidance,” Marissa agreed.

“According to my reading,” Mel continued, “I ‘was destined to play a lead role in restoring supernatural balance’. So I went the practical route, with the agency. But these readings, they’re really just mystical fortune cookies, if slightly more accurate ones. You can interpret them to be true or not.”

“Except very few get the particular sort of reading Melissa got,” Wayne rumbled.

“Or to go with my daughter’s analogy,” Marissa put in, looking at me, “it’s like the back of her fortune had the winning lotto numbers on it. If she wanted to play them.”

Mel turned to stare at her mother. “You never told me that.”

“No, well, we knew you wanted to finish your degree, and we had a good deal of thinking to do,” Marissa continued. “That’s part of the reason we went traveling, and took a step away from your life. We figured we needed some perspective.”

“We were able to determine that at least one or two other people had received that same Prophecy style message, in other parts of the world,” Wayne stated. “And ultimately, what it meant in terms of the big picture.” He went silent.

“Which was…?” I prompted.

Wayne looked to his wife. Marissa cleared her throat. “Are we sure we wouldn’t like some pie before we get into this?”

“Mother, what did it mean?” Mel said firmly. She was using that no-nonsense tone in her voice, the one that can get a person to obey without thinking about it.

“Melissa Temetum Virga, do you REALLY want to know?” her mother countered. And though Marissa’s voice was barely above a whisper, the words were delivered with all the force of a jet engine. Hell, her tone sent chills up MY spine, and the comment hadn’t even been directed at me.

Obviously this speechifying was a family trait, and Mel’s mother didn’t like that Mel had tried to use it on her.

Mel immediately looked to me like a five year old with her hand caught in the cookie jar. Meaning not only was she in trouble, but worse, she felt that there was no possible chance of escape. She actually squirmed in her chair, an action I would never have thought possible for someone as in control as she was.

“I…”

And then Mel looked to me. Me, with her eyes pleading, as if begging me to ask the question that had been stolen from her lips. (Lesson learned, do NOT get pushy with Marissa Virga.)

“I think what Melissa means,” I attempted diplomatically, fearing Marissa turning her gaze upon me, “is that this so-called Prophecy is affecting her life now, what with vampyres and lycans attacking based on her name.”

Or at least, her first and last name. Though you should look up the latin for her middle name sometime too – I used the real one - it’s rather informative. Or at least it was for me.

“Mmm. Disturbingly accurate, that three month timeline,” Wayne mused. “If we’d known, we’d have had you come by here a day or so earlier.”

Her father’s voice seemed to give Mel the courage to speak again. “Then I am being targeted,” she concluded.

“You are, and it won’t get any better,” Wayne affirmed.

I felt like this did not bode well for us.

END ACT 3

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 3d: OF LYCANS AND PROPHECIES

“Reality bites, huh?” I offered at last, when Amy didn’t say anything. Amy laughed weakly at that. “Yeah, if it’s not my own internet success tripping me up, it’s having my childhood dreams of genies torn apart.”

My face fell. “I’m sorry. I just meant about the magic school thing being beyond you.”

She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Bah, don’t look at me that way, James, I’m being melodramatic. I must confess though, part of the reason I went along with your parents to meet you that first day was because, deep down, I’d hoped their casual dismissal of a ‘supernatural detective agency’ wasn’t necessarily something to be dismissed.” She brought her hand back to rub at her neck. “Of course, your work wasn’t at ALL what I’d expected it to be.”

I tried to smile. “I’d love to say I’ll stick around to help you through it, but… uh…”

“It’s not going to work out between us.” Amy’s tone was as matter-of-fact as Melissa’s, but her expression was anything but neutral. “Because I can’t deal with this stuff like you, and I think you’ve missed having the magic around. Or Melissa. Or maybe they’re one and the same in your mind?”

I coughed. I hadn’t thought of things that way. “I’m sorry if I kept talking about her.”

Amy shook her head. “Don’t be. I’m sorry I ignored the signals.”

“I guess I did too.” I edged a bit closer. Amy was still my friend (I hoped), and she looked so sad that I wanted to hug her. But I worried that it would give off the wrong signals.

“Live and learn,” she concluded.

Perhaps sensing my awkwardness, Amy bridged the distance then, and the two of us met in an embrace. She buried her face for a moment in my shoulder, and when she pulled back, her eyes were misty but her expression overall seemed more composed.

“Just be careful out there, okay James? It really doesn’t seem safe. At the least, it certainly puts my concerns over internet criticism in perspective.” She pursed her lips. “And, can I be honest with you?"

I nodded. “Please do. Friends should be honest with each other.”

Amy chuckled, accepting the label. “Okay then. Thing is… I’m not sure that Melissa’s the best choice for keeping you emotionally stable. I don’t mean she’s a bad person, but in particular if there are people - or beings or whatever - out there after her… but look, I grant that I haven’t known her for as long as you have, so there is that too.”

“Yeah, well, Melissa’s…” I fumbled for a word. “Unique.”

“Everyone is,” she reminded me. “You are too. Make sure she realizes that, and that she doesn’t take advantage of your good nature. She may not even do it intentionally.”

“Uh… yeah, okay.”

Amy shook her finger at me. “I mean it, James. As one friend to another. Make sure that you’re happier with Melissa than you are without her, before you commit yourself long term. Yes?”

I shifted on the bed. “Okay.”

“Good.”

We hugged again, quickly, and then Amy got out of the bed, insisting I at least get some sleep there, despite my protests. I passed out shortly thereafter, discovering in the morning that Amy had apparently done the same at some point, while sitting slumped over the desk, next to her lamp.

We were asked the next day by the motel management whether we had heard anything during the night, with respect to vandalism at their pool. I hedged, saying I’d heard something around midnight, and pointing out that my car window had also been smashed. They simply responded how they weren’t responsible for damage done on their property, as per the agreement I’d signed.

So, as far as I’m concerned, this can be an unsolved mystery for them. Particularly given the fact that Trixie told me Melissa answered “Lycan” when they’d asked the same question of her, and they dismissed her as a crazy person.

The rest of Saturday was a bit of a blur.

I got Amy back to our hometown, and then dropped in to see my parents, to let them know that I’d made my decision as far as returning to Melissa. You really don’t want me to bother transcribing that, mostly just my Mom asking whether I was REALLY sure, along with my Dad’s resigned acceptance, provided that I made sure this was something I could make a living at.

He suggested adding my name to Melissa’s agency. More on that later.

I then headed out with a lot of my essential items, bringing them back to Melissa’s apartment. Or rather, back to what felt more like my home, as I’d stayed there right through University.

Remember, if this return to living with her seems rushed, I had dinner with the Virgas on my schedule now, and I kind of wanted to be moved back in by then.

I was brought up short upon my arrival though, discovering that Trixie had, in fact, fully moved in over the past couple weeks, taking over my old room. We still had an hour before meeting up with her parents, so Melissa gave me the whole story.

Apparently the (at present) nineteen year old techno-witch had decided that schooling had nothing more to teach her after her high school graduation, and had subsequently spent more than a year doing mad science in her room while generally driving her parents crazy.

As such, Trixie’s parents had been only too keen to pawn her off on Melissa when she’d called up for technical advice with Amy’s stalker. Meaning for the moment, Trixie didn’t have anywhere else to go.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“Two weeks ago, I thought having a technical consultant in house would be a good plan,” Melissa admitted. “At the time, I didn’t realize she’d be such a pain in the ass, and it’ll take some time before we can get rid of her.”

“It’s fine," I assured Melissa. “Besides, she was helpful in terms of the garlic and vampyre, so she can’t be as bad as all that.”

“Helpful, but a little last minute in terms of the deduction,” Melissa countered.

“To be fair, we didn’t see a connection either."

Melissa crossed her arms. “Okay, but maybe she’d have figured it out sooner if she wasn’t busy trying to seduce all our other prospective clients.”

I frowned. “I’m not sure those things are connected. Also, she what?”

“I’m talking about that thing Trixie does with getting guys to look at her huge rack, despite dressing like she’s too young to have it. She told me she showed you that pose, yes?”

I tried to think of a good way to answer that, and decided to be evasive. “I think I know what you mean. But not all our former clients were male, and how many have you even had in the past two weeks for Trixie to pull this on?”

Melissa sniffed. “Like, two. Maybe three. Only one case was actually supernatural. Look, James, clients aside, I’m not blind to the fact that Trixie’s personality is quirky like mine, except she’s funnier, and prettier than me. I’m just saying, if you and her try to run off and start a rival Agency, she’ll be a problem for you, so I wouldn’t.”

I peered at Melissa a bit closer. “Hold on. Mel, are you being evasive too?”

Melissa’s cheeks went a bit pink. “Yes. Yes, okay, fine. What I’m saying is don’t have sex with Trixie, despite her being available in your old room. Okay, James?”

“Whoa.” I coughed. “Are you saying that in a ‘hands off my young cousin’ way or in the sense that you think me and her–”

“Trixie’s not a virgin, she’s only a couple years younger - despite how she dresses - and I think she’s into you,” Melissa clarified. “Though, while we’re on the subject, the fact that she’s my cousin makes a threesome out of the question.”

I had to look away from her serious expression, rubbing my forehead for cover. “Oy. Mel, remember, Trixie has hit me multiple times. I don’t think she’s keen on me.”

“James, you’re being your wonderfully naive self,” Melissa insisted. “In smacking you, Trixie was taking the time to clue you in, rather than tune you out. You don’t help someone if you hate them. I think maybe I was singing your praises too much this past week too, which helped make her interested.”

“Okay, well, even if you’re right–” Composing myself, I fully turned back. “Mel, your cousin is not the one I’ve fallen in love with. That’s you. You don’t have anything to worry about, no matter how much your cousin might want to develop a love-hate relationship with me.”

I smiled, hoping that sounded as sincere as I felt. I worried that my earlier facial expression resembled that of your stereotypical guy in the movies who’s been blindsided with the old ‘were you looking at that woman?’ schtick.

“Right. Okay.” Melissa bobbed her head in agreement, then scrunched her face up a bit as she shook her head instead. “But while intellectually, that makes sense to me, being away from you seems to have made me insecure in new ways. I mean, I thought I’d properly planned for your departure, yet despite that… it didn’t turn out right.”

“No? What, the Agency accounts got messed up?”

“Not that.”

“Then did you run into technical issues? Because Trixie seems to have the tech-fu, or whatever you want to call it, more than either of us.”

“It wasn’t a tech problem.”

“Is was personal? Did you miss the… um, er…”

“Sex? No. Well, maybe a bit. Thing is, James, it was more I liked having someone to bounce ideas off of. Because talking to Trixie professionally just makes her get defensive, and talking to her about personal stuff… well, I mostly didn’t. I don’t want to give her ammunition. But I couldn’t shun her entirely, because I didn’t want to run this place alone.”

“So, you missed me,” I summarized.

“Nngh. Yeah,” Melissa forced out. “In fact, about a minute ago, I guess I should have simply said I love you back. If this is love I feel. I’m sorry?”

I smiled. “It’s fine, Mel. I know you. Hug?”

I moved in to give her a hug, and she hugged back, drawing in a deep breath.

“Okay,” Melissa said at last. “Dinner with my parents is in under half an hour. Might as well just put your stuff in my room for now. I mean, Trixie’s not here to complain about your return, so screw her. Not literally.”

I pulled back a bit. “Where is your cousin, dare I ask?”

Melissa made a face. “She’s been gone most of today ‘thinking’. I bet because our whole lycan-containment-fail happened, when it theoretically should have worked. She’s stupidly smart, to use an oxymoron, but that doesn’t translate to work out in the field. I can’t believe I allowed it.”

“Mel, don’t get too harsh. Trixie’s still young. We all make mistakes in our youth, as we learn.”

“She’s not that young,” Melissa sniffed. “But what, you don’t want her to move out then? You want to check out her chest a bit more?”

Having opened my mouth to respond to the first question, I paused momentarily at the second. “Uh, well, I don’t want to barge back in and kick Trixie out if she has nowhere else. But my motive is not to check out her body.”

“How could you not though,” Melissa muttered, only to pull right back from me. “Sorry. Let’s drop it, I think this parents thing is messing with me a bit tonight too. I haven’t spoken to them in months, aside from the dinner invitation, so I’m on edge.”

I had questions about that, but I suspected that asking any meant we’d run out of time for me to get my stuff inside. Or the conversation would somehow loop back to Trixie.

So I simply agreed with Melissa, and put my stuff in my no-longer-ex-girlfriend’s room. When I was finished, I moved up behind her at the desk in the main area, where she was staring at a snow globe.

“Mmm. What time is it?” she said, as my shadow fell on her.

“It’s 3 o’clock,” I responded, noting that the clock in the room still didn’t have batteries. Melissa turned in surprise.

“Oh. Seriously?”

I pulled back and gestured towards the offending timepiece. “No, that was a joke. It’s a ten to seven.”

“Oh. I knew that,” she lied.

Truly, I should have known better than to make a time joke with someone who doesn’t register the passage of time.

“Anyway, let’s go. Doesn’t matter if we’re a bit early,” Melissa decided. “I should probably help chop vegetables or something.”

Melissa reached under her desk, grabbing a handbag. Which for the record, I was pretty sure contained magical artifacts, rather than beauty products.

“Anything I should know first though?” I asked. “Because you’ve, uhm, never actually spoken to me about your family. Like, at all.”

“Haven’t I?”

“No.”

“Huh. Guess I never thought it was relevant. Well, my mom is a pixie and my dad is a dwarf, so I knew from a young age that I’d have height issues.”

I searched her face. “Now you’re joking.” It almost came out as a question.

“Yes. My mom’s name is Marissa Virga, she’s a witch like me, and my dad’s name is Wayne Black, he manages a general store and does alchemy on the side.”

I let out a breath of relief. “Well, okay then. You know, you’re definitely getting better at deadpan humour.”

“Thanks,” Melissa said with a grin, before gesturing towards the kitchen. “Shall we have you learn more about them by simply talking to them now?”

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 3c: OF LYCANS AND PROPHECIES

“You never told me that,” I protested.

A pause. “I was sure I did.”

I ran back through that night in my head, and managed to hit on something. “You said you’d wanted to talk to me about something relating to parents when you went to get my dad his water. You never specified what.”

“Oh.” Melissa rubbed her nose. “Well, I’m specifying now. You good with that?”

“I… sure.”

There was no point arguing about the circumstances. This was Melissa’s way. In fact, it felt strangely reassuring to think that things were going back to “normal” so fast. Honestly, my only hesitation was over the fact that I’d never met her parents before.

But after everything Melissa had needed to handle with my parents, doubting her supernatural connection, it seemed only fair that I give hers the chance to give me the once-over as well.

She half smiled at my acceptance, and with that, I realized just how much I had missed her. I reached out to brush some of her hair off of her face.

[caption id=“attachment_2345” align=“alignright” width=“186”] TRIXIE
Commission from Sen Yomi[/caption]

“A-HEM,” Trixie said, clearing her throat incredibly noisily. I realized that face had moved in to within an inch of my former (current?) girlfriend’s, and so I quickly pulled back. Melissa did likewise.

“I’d say get a motel room, but I’m worried you’d kick me out to use the one we’ve got,” Trixie said, hands moving to her hips. “Also, Missy, dinner what now? You never mentioned that to me.”

“Oh, good, so you won’t be offended now that you’re not coming,” Melissa said, raking her fingers back through her rumpled hair.

“No, but I’m wondering if you told your parents we’re dating,” Trixie remarked. “We’re related you know, so that’s a bit twisted.”

Melissa’s face seemed to get redder. “I only told them I might not be able to bring James. This wasn’t a matter of coming with a date either, they wanted to know who I was associating with at work. But you know, even if we weren’t related, your attitude is such that I would NEVER –”

“I think we’d best check on Amy now,” I said, hoping to prevent an argument. I attempted to clear my throat afterwards and just sounded raspy, so I turned and stepped towards the motel room door, reaching my hand out for the doorknob.

Trixie blinked. “Oh, wait, James, I put up –”

As I touched the door, I felt an electrical jolt, which not only knocked me off my feet and onto the pavement a good foot and a half away, but which left my fingers twitching spasmodically for several seconds.

“—some protective scrolls.”

“Now who’s an idiot?” I grumbled back in her direction.

“Well, it stood to reason, didn’t it?” Trixie countered. “You told me to keep her safe, and what did you think those little papers were for? Idiot.”

I glowered. This caused her to switch tactics, clasping her hands behind her back as she pushed her chest out. Despite her maturity, she looked remarkably cute, to the point where it almost felt cruel to remain upset with the freckled witch. “I sowwy,” Trixie cooed.

“Oh, I… uh…”

“Cut that out, Trixie,” Melissa grumbled, moving to stand between us, blocking my view. “He’s working with our Agency again, so he’s off limits to your nonsense. Also, let us into Amy’s room, I need to sit down.”

I saw Trixie stick out her tongue at Melissa as she walked closer, right before winking at me. That said, she then deactivated her scrolls without causing any other arguments.

At this point, per Amy’s request, we explained to her exactly what had been going on while she’d been asleep. Of course, some of it she already knew, through me. But Melissa’s account of the lycan was new to both of us, and I also had to fill in some information about Amy’s dream world for the witches. Without going into quite the detail I did above with respect to Amy the Genie, to be sure.

After all, while actual “Jinn” are supposedly neither angelic or demonic, there is an association in folk tales with more evil intentions. Sleep paralysis is also associated with Jinn attacks. I didn’t want to send the witches off on a tangent.

Oh, for the record, I did make contact with Amy again before setting this account down. She’s okay with you knowing more, given the time lag and what this managed to lead up to. It was also during this motel room discussion that Trixie hit me multiple times for failing to understand women. Couldn’t argue either, particularly being the only guy in the room.

“At the risk of sounding self-centred,” Amy said when it was all over, “What exactly is going to happen with Charlie Halko? Is he still going to be stalking me, even without that vampire’s presence?” (She really couldn’t get the hang of elongating the ‘i’.)

“Halko was never stalking you,” Trixie reminded. “That was a dream scenario. And from all the electronic data I went over, I don’t think he was necessarily interested in you, per se. His initial fascination was with lamps, he’d started buying them even before your show existed."

“I agree you shouldn’t worry,” Melissa added. “I suspect it was the vampyre’s compulsiveness that drove Charlie to monitor you to the degree that he did. You were a wedge he could use. Charlie’s now liable to be a bit hazy about the last few months of his life, plus he’ll probably associate your videos with fear and horror. So let’s classify him as mostly harmless.”

“Ooh, Missy, are you quoting Douglas Adams?” Trixie asked her cousin, expression brightening.

“What?” Melissa asked tiredly as she turned back to the redhead.

Trixie’s expression became a pout. “Sorry, for a moment there I thought you had culture.”

“Though, one more thing, speaking of lamps?” Amy broke back in. From where she sat on the bed, she gestured at the old style lamp on the night table.

The one that had formerly been a knife.

“Yeah, now, that should not have happened,” Melissa admitted.

She stood up to go and examine the object once more. Trixie immediately took Melissa’s place, sitting in the only chair in the room. I continued to lean against the wall.

We had gone to the effort of rubbing the lamp, by the way. No genie.

Melissa turned the lamp around in her hands a couple of times, then shook her head. “Still no signs it’s going to revert. The current supernatural balance is obviously even more out of whack than I previously believed,” the brunette witch concluded.

“Maybe the knife’s transformation has some connection to this Prophecy?” I suggested. “Between that and the three month window that the vampyre alluded to, perhaps we’ll start seeing more of this kind of thing.”

“The lycan mentioned a prophecy too, but I have no idea what it’s about,” Melissa said, starting to sound frustrated. “Trixie? You turn up anything yet?”

“Nopers,” Trixie said with a shrug. She’d done some online searching for it during my earlier dream explanations, and had come up empty. “But remember, I’m a techno-witch. If it’s not published on the web, I can’t find it. You’ll need to research dusty old books in the library with James. If you can keep your minds on research, that is.”

“This isn’t funny, Trix," Melissa snapped. “Can’t you try the so-called dark web or something?”

Trixie’s grin vanished. “Geez, Missy, I didn’t say I was giving up. But you can’t just call me in and expect me to fix all your problems overnight.”

“Tell me about it. It took you two weeks just to pinpoint Halko,” Melissa grumbled.

“Which is not that long given what little I had to go on. You should have called me in a week earlier, before you started following false leads.” Now Trixie was sounding defensive.

I exchanged a quick glance with Amy, who smiled tiredly and shrugged. It wasn’t just me then - the working relationship between the two witches wasn’t as amicable as the one that had existed between Melissa and I.

I coughed. “You know, we could always talk to other witches, see if they have more information,” I suggested. “Maybe they’ve heard supernatural beings talking about it too.”

“Mmm,” Melissa said, nodding her head in agreement as she put the lamp back down. “Maybe see if any other witches are also seeing a rise in supernatural incidents, or magick forced on the unwilling, that sort of thing. Good thinking, James.”

Trixie rolled her eyes, but said nothing, which at least didn’t create more problems. As far as the Agency goes, I like to think I compliment Melissa’s analysis and Trixie’s tech with a little human interaction.

“Um, about that,” Amy put in. “If I’ve understood James correctly the last couple weeks, weren’t you breaking your own rules tonight? By attacking the vampire, using your magic to contain the wolf when he didn’t want to be trapped, and that sort of thing.”

Melissa turned to look at Amy. “No, because we were up against beings who knew we were witches, and thus expected spells. Moreover, when someone attacks you, they’re implicitly opening themselves up to be attacked back. Passive acceptance.”

“Besides, our spells were basically for self-defence, and we’re allowed to protect ourselves without a backlash,” Trixie added.

“Ah,” Amy said dubiously. “I guess real magic’s a lot more complicated than I thought it would be.”

“There’s special evening courses you can take,” Melissa offered. “Though you’d need a sponsor, you have to show some natural ability, and all the participants tend to be of high school age or less. Well, occasionally first year university.”

Melissa glanced my way. I vaguely recalled her talking about it with me once, but I had been more interested in my journalism goals at the time.

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Trixie moaned. “If I hadn’t had to take all those extra magick courses, I’m sure I could have graduated regular high school two years early.” She grinned at Amy. “Say, have I mentioned my IQ?”

Amy raised her hands, palms out, and waved them back and forth with a wan smile on her face. “Never mind, it’s fine, I think I’ll leave the magic to the professionals.”

“That’s probably best,” Melissa said dismissively. I suspect that I alone had sensed the disappointment in Amy’s tone. Maybe it was time to clear the room, to give Amy some peace and quiet.

I pushed away from the wall, stretching my arms above my head. “Well, at the risk of being rude, it’s something like 3am, and I think we could all do with at least a bit of uninterrupted sleep.”

“3am?” said Melissa in surprise. “I thought it was midnight.”

She gestured at the motel’s clock radio, which had been reset at some point and was flashing twelve.

“Yes, Missy, it’s been midnight for the last three hours,” Trixie said. She rose from the chair and headed over to her cousin, grabbing her by the arm. “Don’t you worry, James, I get it. We’ll get out of your hair, leave you to say to Amy whatever it is you need to.”

Melissa humphed. “Don’t get coy, Trixie. James knows not to hint with me, if he needs time without us, he’ll say so.”

“What he needs is for you to pretend to understand relationships,” Trixie said, pulling Melissa towards the door. “Honestly, you two idiots are made for each other.”

Melissa gave Trixie a look of annoyance, and me a sort of a confused shrug, but didn’t otherwise resist being led out of the room. As Trixie pulled the door behind them, I fired off a grateful smile her way.

Trixie’s response was to meet my gaze, and give me a wink while making a kissing motion with her mouth. I couldn’t tell if the redhead was making an allusion to “kissing Amy goodbye”, if she was trying to give me her own kiss goodnight, if she was simply trying to annoy Melissa, or something completely different.

Trixie was definitely harder for me to read than her cousin.

Only once the witches had left and closed the door did I go to sit on the side of the bed near Amy. It was time to end this particular chapter of my life.

Little did I realize that this would be less like ending a chapter, and more like concluding an entire book - before launching into a new volume, one that had me in a relationship with the Chosen One of a Prophecy.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 3b: OF LYCANS AND PROPHECIES

“Clever,” the wolfman yielded. “But remaining like that requires concentration, which will falter eventually.”

“Yes, well, gives us time to talk about why you’re so against restoring supernatural balance. Along with why you’re targeting me when there’s plenty more witches doing this on a grander scale,” Melissa said. “Am I an appetizer before them?”

“Surely you’re aware of the Prophecy. You’re the Chosen One, Melissssa Viiiirga,” it countered with a hiss.

Melissa stared. “Prophecy. How special. Okay, I’m listening.”

“I’m done talking.”

The lycan moved to grab a rather hefty concrete vase, no doubt used to provide some décor to the area, which he then threw at the brunette.

Melissa was forced to do a quick dodge, as she not only attempted to avoid the object but the splinters of the vase after it shattered against the far side of the pool. The wolf used this opportunity to jump at her.

Melissa saw no alternative.

She hopped off the broom, hefting it by the handle as she fell towards the pool bottom. She then angled up the hard wooden end holding the bristles, mentally calculating her drop in relation to the way the lycan was twisting in the air to try and land on her, then with as much force as she could muster, she jabbed it up between the lycan’s legs, hitting at the crotch of his jeans. (Sometimes, Melissa conceded, you can’t avoid the cheap shots.)

Her opponent let out a bit of a whine and his trajectory shifted, as Melissa released her grip on the push broom, calling out “Salio!” once again.

She landed on the pool bottom with both feet together, grimacing as her weight followed, bending her knees to try reduce the shock, as the spell helped her spring back up.

Know that repeated use of the same spell does tend to reduce its effectiveness, at least in the short term. (Magick tends to reward the more creative individual, rather than penalize across the board regardless of what gets cast.)

As such, Melissa didn’t spring up as high as before, this time only just managing to catch the middle rung of the ladder for the deep end of the pool, once at the height of her arc.

She looked down, noting that the wolf was apparently trying to block out whatever pain he was feeling, and was already standing up. He again jumped for her. After doing another quick mental calculation, she pulled back her leg and delivered a kick to his face before he could grab hold of either her, or the pool ladder.

He did manage to leave a bit of a scratch on her leg for his efforts, owing to his outstretched arms.

“Having fun?”

Melissa declined to answer Trixie’s remark, but did accept the redhead’s extended arm, helping her to get up out of the pool that much faster.

“Time for Plan B, containment,” Melissa said tersely. “Go to the opposite side.”

[caption id=“attachment_2345” align=“alignright” width=“186”] TRIXIE
Commission from Sen Yomi[/caption]

“What was Plan A?” Trixie mused, even as she quickly moved to comply, hopping nimbly over the low diving board at the head of the pool on the way.

The wolf, for his part, had apparently decided that it would be easier to get out by heading down to the shallow end, as he was now doing so. However, the couple of falls and hits meant he wasn’t moving at top speed.

Melissa began a quick chant here, and I won’t transcribe all of the latin, but the gist of it was a containment grid that the lycan would not be able to pass while in wolf form. Not without having to endure a lot of pain.

As Melissa finished, she looked up to link eyes with Trixie, who was by now crouching directly opposite her. “Initimus!” the two witches chorused, slapping their hands down onto the pool tiles in tandem.

The tiles lit up sequentially around the poolside, like a glowing rectangle. In less than a second, the whole perimeter had been covered, and then beams shot out laterally to cover the area as well. They passed right through the torso of the wolf as he was emerging.

The lycan howled, even as his transformation suddenly reversed, leaving what looked to be a forty-something bearded male yelling out in its wake. Said male then fell back beneath the surface of the glow, leaving him sitting in the shallow end, glaring up at the witches.

The glow itself faded after a moment, but the barrier remained.

Melissa tucked some hair back behind her ear. “Okay, we’ll question him later,” she concluded, expelling a long breath. “For now, back to James and the vampyre.”

“Worried about your James, hmmm?” Trixie inquired, standing back up and tugging on her short skirt, one hopes to make sure she was staying decent.

“No. Maybe. He’s not my James. Shut up.”

The younger witch smirked as she followed Melissa back out of the pool area. “Guessing you’re going into Amy’s dream," Trixie reasoned. “Can I come too? I haven’t seen James' bizarre form of incompetence against an adversary yet. And after your complaints about how I’m doing things different, I’m curious.”

“I wasn’t complaining. And I said shut up.”

“Uh huh. You know, it’s possible he likes redheads more. Not worried about a little witch competition, are you?”

Melissa whirled. “Trix, for the last time, I said… ohhhhh, hell-o!” Where the ‘o’ was very much tacked on, so that she could pretend she hadn’t come close to swearing.

“No, you said…” But then Trixie’s voice trailed off too, noting the expression on Melissa’s face.

She spun as well, looking back towards the motel’s pool. Where the man who had been a wolf was climbing out amid a silent crackling of energy, which lit up his face and revealed the way his teeth were clenched and his eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets as he braved whatever their barrier was doing to him.

“Sooo, you know how to fight a lycan, huh?” Trixie said. Humour was something of a defence mechanism for her.

“That should have worked,” was all Melissa could say.

Trixie hesitated. “It really should have,” she yielded, as the lycan (in human form) finally completely surfaced, collapsing back onto the deck by the side of the pool.

“He’s insane,” Melissa diagnosed. “You don’t have any new tricks hidden in your so-called hammerspace for insane lycans, do you?”

“Not so much, no.”

Melissa’s jaw tightened as the shock value wore off, and her instincts started to take over. “Fine then. Another plan forms. It involves using the mirror I brought back with me. Which means I’ll need you to tell me the moment James awakens from his spell-induced slumber, because I can’t invoke the mirror safely until I know he’s handled the vampyre spirit.”

Trixie blinked. “James and the vampyre? You think he can manage that on his own?”

“He handled a poltergeist three months ago with only minimal assistance from me.”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Oh, right, right, the poltergeist story again. Fine, I’ll let you know when he’s conscious,” she finished, hurrying back towards the car.

Once there, Trixie later said she took the opportunity to peek in through the curtains at the slumbering Amy as well, to verify that the dream world was still both active and stable.

Melissa looked around for something new that she might be able to use as a weapon. She didn’t see anything, but then resigned herself to the fact that if the lycan could withstand all the punishment she’d thrown at him so far, brandishing a club wasn’t liable to dissuade him either.

With a few quick murmurs and gestures, she began to work on what she determined to be her best possible defence, a moveable shield. These actually work better than simply enclosing yourself in a six-sided box, as their smaller size requires much less energy to activate and maintain. Though their use does require the caster to have a sense of where the next attack is coming from.

Once completed, Melissa extended her non-dominant hand, the magick circle appearing at her palm to her eyes alone. She then looked back up at the lycan. He had managed to at least partially transform back into wolf form, and was now about ten paces away, moving slowly but steadily, still sizing her up.

“You know,” she began. “Maybe we can still talk about –”

It lunged, slamming against her invisible shield with such force that she had to take a step back.

“Or not,” Melissa sighed in defeat.

What followed was a series of clawings, poundings, and attempted bitings. No finesse at all, Melissa later noted, and no imagination either. The lycan apparently didn’t even consider capturing the nearby Trixie to use as bait, not that such a ruse would have panned out any better.

Melissa did have to expand the diameter of her shield a couple of times though, and she suspected that, had the lycan been at full strength, it wouldn’t have held out. Soon she began to grow concerned that maybe I’d decided to wait in Amy’s dream for her to get there.

“Trixie,” she called out after maybe two minutes of the lycan’s mauling attack. “Maybe we’ll get you to go into that dream after all.”

Trixie brightened. “Seriously?”

“Well, something needs to break up this stalemate, before we end up with a much bigger problem,” she shouted.

“He’s awake,” Trixie called out at that moment.

“Arcesso!” Melissa stated, Charlie’s mirror in her mind’s eye.

She extended her non-shield hand in the direction of the car as his mirror flew out through the broken rear window. The wolf’s momentary distraction at the sight of the object flying in towards Melissa even gave her the reprieve she needed to catch it.

“Honestly,” she continued. “If there’s one thing more annoying than unexpected vampyres, it’s when they’re accompanied by lycans.”

Apparently deciding that the mirror wasn’t a new threat, the wolf jumped at Melissa again.

Big mistake.

The witch dispelled her shield and brandished the mirror in both hands, calling out something rapid fire. Whatever she said meant the lycan’s jump took him right inside the mirror, and out of our plane of existence.

Melissa immediately smashed said mirror onto the ground, breaking the glass, and then she moved to stand on it, jerking the frame out of alignment. There was a long sighing sound, not unlike the air being let out of a tire, and for a moment a white haired image appeared, hovering over the debris.

This, I believe, was the Somnalibus. His image then vanished (I may have imagined a smile), and all was silence. Except for the sound of Melissa’s heavy breathing.

I waited a beat before exiting the car, looking first to Trixie. “I’ve missed something.”

“No kidding,” Trixie chirped back. “Man, you just can’t stop yourself from saying idiotic things, can you. It’s actually fascinating.”

Melissa trudged back to the car, looking tired, rumpled and sweaty, which I found simultaneously worrisome, given how she’s usually more proper, as well as bizarrely erotic, for precisely the same reason.

“Tell me you and Amy handled the vampyre spirit,” she said, more a statement of what she wanted to be true than an actual question.

“Yeah. Well, the Somnalibus did,” I amended.

“Good,” Melissa said with a sigh.

I then glanced towards the shattered mirror on the pavement of the parking lot. “Your, um, lycan dealt with?”

She shrugged. “If that went right, he’s trapped in the Culicinae realm with the vampyres. If not, well, at least he’s not here any more.”

“Ah. Well, good.”

The two of us linked eyes. Melissa’s cheeks were already flushed, and I suspect mine got darker too, at the intensity of her gaze. I cleared my throat, searching for the right words. “This is probably going to sound weird. But I’ve missed this.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. “Only the cases then?”

I slowly shook my head. It’s possible my gaze wandered over her form.

“So you’re coming back.” Again, almost a question, but more a statement of hopeful truth.

I paused for a moment to make sure I meant it. “Yeah. If you’ll have me.”

“Oh, heck yeah,” Melissa repeated, sighing again. “I’d much rather bring you to dinner with my parents tomorrow, instead of Trixie.”

“Right. I can underst– wait, what?”

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 3a: OF LYCANS AND PROPHECIES

“Hi Missy,” the redhead said in delight as soon as she picked up. “James get to you in time with the garlic?”

“So it was you who sent him.”

“No, he psychically knew you were in trouble. You two have that special bond.”

Melissa sighed. “Trixie…”

“Well, what did you expect me to say? Anyway, how is it that in all our conversations you failed to mention that James is somehow a competent idiot? That’s a real interesting mix. For the record, I’ve told him he can do better than you."

“Trixie, he’s not your type.”

“Oh, sure, immediately leap to thinking that I hit on him."

“I bet you at least did your stupid ‘look at my chest’ pose.”

“Stupid, hmm? What if I said James looked, meaning he’s a typical guy? B-t-w, green’s not a good colour on you, Missy.”

Melissa leaned in against the steering wheel. “Let’s table this. I need you to bring some items over to his and Amy’s room, ASAP.”

“I’m already here. How about you simply bring this stuff to me?”

The brunette witch blinked. “What are you doing in James’ room?”

“He wanted me to protect Amy while he was gone. Little thing called chivalry. Remind me to fill you in on the concept.”

I’d once suggested to Melissa that if someone was being deliberately annoying around her, she should simply count down from five in her head to avoid saying a rather blunt remark, thus causing the situation to escalate further. I suspect that’s why she remained silent for a moment at this point.

[caption id=“attachment_2345” align=“alignright” width=“186”] TRIXIE
Commission from Sen Yomi[/caption]

Come to think, Melissa pauses like that a lot when Trixie is around.

“Fine, well, I’m parked in front of that room with James asleep in the passenger seat,” Melissa said at last. “So we might as well be talking in person.”

“YOU called ME,” Trixie reminded.

Melissa simply hung up. She then dropped the phone onto the floor of the car and reached for the door handle – which is when the rear window shattered from the large rock that had been thrown at it.

The witch quickly spun, and she admitted to me that her heart briefly leapt into her throat, over concern that the mirror had been destroyed prior to our agreed upon time. It had fallen over, but still seemed intact.

Unfortunately, with her attention being on the mirror, she was unable to defend against the long, hairy arm that reached in through the shattered glass and grabbed for her throat from behind. “Melissssssssa,” a voice hissed.

“Urk!” was all Melissa could manage to vocalize.

Her mind immediately went to work sizing up the situation. She didn’t have enough force to break the grip. Her better spells required a focusing phrase, which was currently impossible. I was obviously not in a position to help, her phone was on the floor, and she wasn’t in the best position to strike back at her aggressor. Moreover, while slamming her hand down on the horn might attract the attention of someone - like Trixie - who could help, it might also wake up Amy, which was also not in Melissa’s best interests.

At this point, I will mention that there is a spell, unique to every witch, known as ‘ultima ratio’ (or ‘last resort’). They can invoke it in times of dire emergency.

I say it’s unique, because it might involve vanishing, or explosions, or growing a third arm, or whatever said witch has previously decided should happen if the situation is really as bad as all that. It also effectively renders the witch incapable of casting spells for quite some time afterwards, hence why it’s a last resort spell.

Of course, Melissa’s situation here was, in fact, not as bad as all that – I mostly bring it up at this point so that it’s not a surprise later, and to give you a sense of how bad things may yet become.

What Melissa did do at this point was reach up and rake her fingernails over the hairy hand that had her by the throat.

When the hand flinched, she was able to subvocalize a particular thought.

When the car then caught fire, the hand flinched even more, to the point where she could rasp out, “Fulgur.”

Melissa tapping her fingers against the hand now sent a sharp electric shock through it. By the time her opponent had processed the fact that the fire had no heat, he was jerking back and twitching from her electrical attack anyway. (Illusion, Melissa has said, can be a very powerful tool. At the very least, it can provide one with the second or two that’s needed to think up something better.)

Melissa wasted no time in kicking her car door open and getting out, in order to put herself in a more defensible position.

Her opponent – a lycan, as mentioned earlier, so essentially a wolfman in jeans – was able to backhand her before she was fully prepared.

Melissa’s body flew back onto the hood of the car, but she rolled with it, landing in front of the vehicle on one knee. Trixie poked her head around the motel room curtains at about this point, having heard something. Her eyes went wide, and keeping the drapes pulled back at least slightly, in order to still be able to see Amy, she hurried outside.

“Do you two mind?” Trixie quipped at Melissa as she opened the door, and then tried to close it as quietly as possible. “People at this motel are trying to sleep.”

“Not now, Trixie,” was Melissa’s only response, slowly getting to her feet, eyes fixated on her attacker.

The lycan, for his part, had also paused to size up the situation, seeing as he’d now lost the advantage of surprise.

“Lycan,” Trixie said, a mite reduntantly, to fill the ensuing silence. “Different from a werewolf, silver doesn’t apply. You’ll have to –”

“I know how to fight a lycan, Trix,” Melissa said, her tone clipped.

Trixie hushed. Whenever Melissa started getting terse, you knew she was serious. (Conversely, Trixie tends to use full names when she gets serious, as she likes using nicknames as a matter of course. Go figure.)

For your sake though, assuming you are unaware, I’ll mention that the main difference between a werewolf and a lycan is that the former requires a full moon to transform, while the latter has more control. There are other differences, but, well, the internet is actually not as wholly inaccurate on this particular distinction as it is on others, so you can check into them yourself if you like.

Melissa and the lycan continued their staring contest for a few moments more.

“So,” Melissa ventured. “I’m willing to go our separate ways here. Though I’d recommend some silver sulfadiazine, should help you balance out your control issues, you’re liable to get in trouble looking like that.”

“I won’t be in trouble once I keep you from restoring the balance, Melisssssa Viiiirga,” the lycan retorted at last. “Very arrogant of you to put your real name on the motel ledger.”

“I’ve been told I can be arrogant,” Melissa admitted.

“Yeah, I’ve told her that,” Trixie chimed in.

“Is this not directly connected to the whole vampyre thing with Amy then?” Melissa continued.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Trixie lamented, when the lycan simply stared. “The movies have lied to us again, not everything interconnects.” She shook her head sadly, her twintails knocking against her shoulders.

The lycan’s eyes narrowed. “You two must think you’re pretty smart.”

“IQ of 151,” the redhead said proudly.

“Must you always bring that up?” Melissa said in annoyance.

“Oh, right, cuz as you’ve told me, James never flaunted his intelligence. His apparent complete absence of such, you seem to have become love numbed towards.”

“Don’t end a sentence with a preposition.”

“Shut up,” the lycan said in disbelief.

“Make me,” Trixie shot back.

The wolf form lunged at them. Or more specifically, at Melissa, though he took a side swipe at Trixie too.

The redhead was able to simply step back; Melissa’s dodge had to be a bit more artistic, but seeing as she’d anticipated the lycan’s move, she was even able to reach out and grab one of the motel’s exterior deck chairs to use as a shield afterwards.

“MAKE me?” she said to Trixie in disbelief.

“Sorry, hadn’t parsed it was him saying that,” the younger witch mumbled.

“I’ll lead him on a chase, meet you at the pool,” Melissa concluded, as the lycan managed to rip the chair from her hands. The pool was one of the outdoor types that these motels sometimes have.

“But…” Trixie began, gesturing at the motel room, before blinking and nodding in realization. She pulled out her computing device again, punching something in quickly with her thumbs. “Rixi, protective scrolls,” she said.

“All right,” her own voice replied agreeably. “Accessing.”

One light show later, and Trixie was quickly thumbing some self-adhesive papers to the motel room’s door jamb and window.

At the same time, Melissa had made a run for her own motel room. It wasn’t, in fact, her destination, but she had hoped the lycan would believe that to be the case. She had already concluded that she wouldn’t be able to outpace him on foot – wolves are damn fast – and that running any sort of confusing zigzag pattern would only serve to slow herself down.

As expected, he did jump in front of her, so as her own foot touched the ground, she intoned, “Salio!”

As her foot came up, she shot at least ten feet into the air. With her momentum still carrying her forwards, she easily overshot her opponent, and was able to continue running.

With a snarl, the lycan turned to catch up again, this time passing her and blocking passage to the room she had booked. Which was pretty much what she’d hoped.

She turned to the side before reaching the lycan, grabbing the long push broom that someone had left next to a small pile of debris, outside an unoccupied room. After giving it a quick enchantment, she grabbed the handle, hopped up onto it, and rode it off in the other direction, like a segway. (I believe I mentioned this is how she uses brooms to travel.)

With an exclamation of annoyance, the wolf followed, but now at least they were moving at roughly the same speed.

“Hurry it up, Trix,” Melissa remarked as she came within earshot of my hotel room again.

“I’m keeping James’ current girlfriend safe,” Trixie retorted as she stepped back to activate her scrolls. “You’d be blamed if Amy came to harm.”

“That girl’s not his girlfriend yet,” Melissa was heard to mumble as she continued to ride her push broom through the parking lot.

I hesitate to point out here that no effort was made to actually protect my slumbering form in the front seat of the car. I’m not sure what that says about my witch associates, or about me, but I choose to believe they felt I was in no danger, or could handle myself. Somehow.

The lycan continued his pursuit of Melissa, obviously his primary target. She continued to glide on her broom in the dim light being cast from both the moon and the neon sign for the motel, until she reached the access to the pool.

The gate was locked, but public property has never stopped a witch before. Once inside, she was confronted with the fact that it had not yet been opened for the season, and remained totally drained.

This did not bode well for her initial idea of getting the wolf wet, and possibly altering the chlorine content to be something rather more aggravating to her adversary.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 2e: OF VAMPYRES AND GENIES

Amy let out a little sigh of relief. The vamp quickly recovered, landing back on his feet.

“Can’t attack a genie that way,” Amy admonished, apparently starting to assert herself a bit more, seeing as we were out of the detective scenario and into something a little more familiar to her.

“You gave yourself powers,” the vampyre realized. He shot a look at the Somnalibus. “Little help here?” he demanded.

The white haired Somnalibus demon sized up the situation. The vampyre was, for the moment, keeping his distance away from Amy by the wall, as well as from me, in the light coming in from a front window.

“You can handle it,” the demon concluded, crossing his arms and leaning back against the open doorway. In other words, the outcome here was uncertain, and the Somnalibus didn’t want to be on the losing side.

“You useless piece of–” The vampyre didn’t even bother to finish the sentence, instead reaching for the vase on a nearby table, heaving it at Amy instead.

Again, she raised her fingers, the object bouncing off an invisible wall. Regrettably, the vampyre had probably counted on that, as he used Amy’s momentary distraction to jump at ME.

I was at least able to reason out his angle of attack, namely parallel to the window, since he was having to pull the curtain as he moved. To block out the sun.

This let me evade his initial strike, and vault over the couch, though without thinking I put some weight on my wrist as I did so. I cried out in pain before falling onto the floor.

“James?” Amy called out in concern.

“Capture the vampyre in a cage or something,” I suggested, my arm throbbing.

“I cannot grant you that wish unless you have my lamp,” Amy protested.

“Think of a better idea yourself then?” I ventured.

“I cannot use magic on the world around me, unless it’s in self-defense.”

Okay, her dream world, her rules. You’d think she could have bent them, but then, certain beliefs can be pretty fundamental to an individual’s personality. Also, in a way it means supernatural balance was playing a role even here.

I became very busy fending off the vampyre’s next attack, wishing that I’d had the presence of mind to throw on a turtleneck sweater at some earlier point in the evening.

With the curtain closed, grabbing one of the couch cushions became my plan for blocking an attack to my face or neck. It was successful, but the vampyre then went for my injured wrist.

Well, that wasn’t good.

I kicked at him, but he avoided it. His grip locked around my arm, and just as I felt like there was no way to prevent him from biting down on my skin somehow, there was a smashing sound, and he collapsed on top of me.

I quickly hefted him off and crawled to safety, seeing that Amy the Genie was now standing above the both of us with her hands on her hips.

“I can still attack without using magic,” she asserted. Pieces of the other vase in the room were now scattered about the floor, following its impact on the vampyre’s skull. Unfortunately, he remained conscious, and seemed to be shaking it off.

There seemed to be only one way out of this.

“Amy, give me your lamp?” I requested.

She immediately tossed it in my direction. I caught it with my good hand, then rubbed it with my opposing elbow. “We good for magick on my behalf now?” I asked.

“Mmm hmm! Three wishes, Master,” she affirmed, seemingly smothering a giggle as she tacked on that last term. Under different circumstances, it would have been very cute.

“I wish that the vampyre here be trapped in a cage that he cannot escape from, which has us on the outside, yet is such that we can still see and converse with him,” I blurted out.

The thing with genies, even friendly ones, is trying to account for some of those little loopholes that wishing always seems to generate.

“Granted,” Amy said, clapping her palms together.

With a clanging sound, a cage of iron bars dropped from the ceiling, narrowly missing my foot as it enclosed the vampire. Along with the couch and a quarter of the room.

Well, it didn’t really matter to me that it was roomy inside. I got to my feet again, moving to stand next to Amy as the vampyre also rose. He immediately lunged, reaching through the bars, but fortunately his reach wasn’t enough to touch us.

Sensing that he was temporarily out of options, he stepped back, crossed his arms and glared. “What now then, associates of Melissa?” he demanded. “Are you going to kill me?”

It was a rather good question, actually. I looked to Amy. “I don’t suppose I can wish for him to be banished back to his realm.”

“Uh, since his realm isn’t within this dream, I’d have no idea how to do that,” Amy apologized.

I rubbed my chin. “How about wishing for him to spill everything he knows about the prophecy he mentioned? Could be a clue there.”

Amy shook her head. “James - that is, Master - this vampire is not actually a character in my dream, so I can’t interfere with his free will.” She frowned. “Come on, can’t you think of some way that my magic would be of use?”

I refrained from bringing up her pronunciation issues.

“Fine, we can certainly make things uncomfortable here, such that he’d want to cooperate of his own accord,” I concluded. “Amy — uh, Genie - I wish for garlic to be in every house and environment in this world. Along with a basket of garlic bread for the both of us.”

My Asian/Arabian friend grinned once again. “Granted,” she declared, again clapping her hands.

The vampyre’s eyes went wide. “No,” he said rather hoarsely, as cloves and sprigs of garlic suddenly popped into the room. A gift basket of bread also appeared on a nearby table.

The vamp threw his arm over his face, to try and screen his breathing. Or perhaps to remind himself that he didn’t need to breathe, I don’t know.

“Fine, torture me if you like,” he shot back. “It’s still nothing compared to what my fate would otherwise be, either within your realm, or my own.”

I handed some garlic bread over to Amy as I pondered that. “What, are you a wanted felon or something back in Culicinae?” I asked, now hoping I was pronouncing it right.

He didn’t respond, simply glaring with his red eyes. I sighed, taking a bite of bread myself, before shrugging and looking back at my companion.

“Maybe we’ll have to wait until Melissa shows,” I concluded.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Amy’s eyes went wide. “What? She’s coming into this dream as well?”

“That had been the plan, I think. She was returning to the motel first.”

“But I can’t let her see me like this,” Amy protested, tossing her garlic bread aside. “It’s bad enough that YOU are seeing one of my most secret desires. Dammit James…!”

Amy pressed two fingers to her forehead, and it felt like the room blurred a bit around the edges.

“I-I’m sorry,” I apologized, suddenly worried that she was going to wake up. “Could we simply get you a disguise?”

Amy shook her head. “Give me the knife back, I guess I need its help to reverse this whole setting.”

I frowned. “The knife?”

“Yes, I turned Melissa’s nasty knife into that lamp when I switched us over into this fantasy.”

My fingers tightened on the object.

How long had I been holding the knife/lamp now? At least a minute. And when Melissa said two minutes, she meant it. And once I exited, the mirror would be smashed, and Amy would wake up.

“Okay, big problem. Hypothetically, what would happen to the vampyre if this dream abruptly ended?” I asked, not really expecting Amy to be able to answer.

“He’d probably make me jump to another one,” answered the Somnalibus in her place.

I’d almost forgotten about him.

I turned to the white haired demon, still watching us from the entranceway to the room. “What if you were released though?” I asked, trying to speak quickly without slurring my words. “If the item in my world that the vampyre had used to trap you here with him were to be simultaneously destroyed along with the end of this dream.”

An eyebrow went up. “He’d merely be a free floating spirit then. Albeit one liable to trap another of my kind and then find more victims.”

“Could you act to prevent that, within the next thirty seconds? With my personal guarantee that you will be freed from his influence thereafter?”

The demon half smiled, straightening his posture and cracking his knuckles. “Indeed I could. Because I’ve always wanted to see precisely why my associate decreed the absence of all garlic within the dreams of your companion.”

“Now hold on,” the vampyre said, finally sounding a bit worried. “I was going to release you too. Right? Once I’d become corporeal? You’ve known this James guy for all of half an hour. How can you trust him over me?!”

“From what I have seen of her dreams, this Amy is honourable,” the Somnalibus responded. “I extrapolate the same to her friend. Moreover…” The demon smiled a rather unpleasant looking smile. “In the more lengthy time I’ve known you, I’ve decided I quite DISLIKE you, Culicinae. You think you know better than me? You may have another think coming.”

I held up the lamp. “Third wish. That the Somnalibus here have access to the vampyre’s cage, along with whatever else he might need to defeat the vampyre before I depart.”

“Granted,” Amy said, clapping her hands.

“I don’t need anything else,” the Somnalibus rumbled, grabbing Amy’s discarded garlic bread before marching through the iron bars as if they weren’t there.

The vampyre backpedaled frantically. “Buddy. Friend! Let’s talk about this,” the vampyre began, only to shriek as he put his palm down onto one of the garlic cloves that Amy had summoned up earlier.

“We may not want to watch this,” I realized.

“Yeeeah,” Amy said, briefly tugging on my sleeve before heading out into the hallway.

I followed, though was still in time to hear the vampyre scream again like it had when Melissa had blown the garlic vapours at him.

“In fact,” Amy continued, moving to sit on the stairs. “Leaving the vampyre at his mercy, even this doesn’t feel right, somehow.”

“No element of poetic justice?” I suggested.

“Maybe,” Amy granted.

The screams cut out. She shuddered.

“My wonderful genie fantasy’s been tainted," Amy murmured. “I wonder how much of this I’ll actually remember when I wake up.”

“At least your dreams will be yours own from now on,” I offered.

“Oh! There’s that.” She looked up at me. “Thanks, James. You’ve helped me to realize that magic is–”

“–a much bigger problem,” Melissa shouted.

I sat up, realizing that I was back to being in the passenger seat of the car. We seemed to be parked at the motel.

“He’s awake,” Trixie called out, staring at me through the front windshield.

“Arcesso!” Melissa stated.

I turned in time to see Charlie’s bathroom mirror fly out of the back seat, through the previously shattered rear window, towards Melissa’s outstretched hand.

“Honestly,” Melissa continued, and in the dim lighting of the parking lot, all I could see was that she was talking to some sort of beast, looming over her. “If there’s one thing more annoying than unexpected vampyres, it’s when they’re accompanied by lycans.”

I’d better back up.

END ACT 2

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 2d: OF VAMPYRES AND GENIES

“Oh good, another countdown,” Amy murmured.

Sham droned on regardless. “Next step, you leave the theatre here, take a newspaper, and walk by the park. Keep all your electronic devices on, in case that’s what he’s using to track you. Sit on a bench to read. As you do, I’ll keep an eye on things, from the shadows, and nab the guy if and when he turns up.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there on the bench with you,” I assured Amy, as she again looked dubious.

Sham shook his head. “No good. A perp like this is too smart to approach if you’re with her,” he said to me. “You can hang back with me, as long as you can keep quiet, but it’s got to look like Ms. Lampana’s alone. It’s fine, I gather he’s more likely to propose to her than stab her.”

I frowned, deciding to just come out with an accusation. “Sounds like you want to split us up, to knock me out before attacking her.”

“Whoa! Hey! SHE hired ME,” the PI countered indignantly. “And let me add that as the boyfriend, you ARE a prime suspect – if you even are who you claim to be?”

“Oh, stop,” Amy moaned. “Let’s just get this over with already. Catching this guy, that’s… that’s what ends this, right?”

The question was pretty much directed at me, as Amy had somehow sensed or decided that this would be the fix for the complications I’d mentioned to her before.

“I hope so,” was the best response I could give her.

“I’ll get the guy, don’t worry,” Sham asserted, giving me a look.

Amy could only sigh in response.

We went ahead with the plan. Amy booked the airline flight, grabbed a movie magazine, and headed out. I waited a couple beats along with Sham before following. The two of us were constantly exchanging uncertain glances – neither of us seemed to trust the other.

Consider, the original private investigator had most likely been Charlie, pulled back into reality by Melissa’s arrival. But, I wondered, did that necessarily mean that the vampyre spirt had again assumed the role?

Could the vampyre have instead had the Somnalibus pull a reset, the PI becoming a puppet, while it took on the guise of the stalker instead? It could now be biding it’s time until it felt recovered enough to attack.

I didn’t know, meaning I now had to keep an eye on both Sham (who might attack me) and Amy (who might be attacked).

It seemed to be nighttime in the dream world too, which didn’t help. I belatedly wished I was close enough to Amy to tell her to make it brighter, using her lucid dream abilities.

Instead, I could only watch as Amy chose a park bench relatively close to a lamppost, so that she could see her magazine. It was a type of lamp, I suppose that was fitting. I took up a position in the bushes nearby, slightly removed from Sham so that he couldn’t suddenly clock me in the back of the head.

We waited. A good five minutes passed.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

I started to wonder about Melissa, whether she had reached the motel, and whether she might suddenly appear here too. How close was the passage of time in this dream a match to the real world? I’ve never had a conclusive answer to that question.

A businessman in a suit and tie passed by without incident. Then some woman in a track outfit ambled by, walking their dog. Next, a brunette girl with long hair appeared on the path, facing away from me. I leaned in a bit, twisting my head to see if that was actually Melissa.

Which let me see something else out of the corner of my eye, something approaching fast from above.

I rolled left. A figure landed exactly where I’d been crouching. It wasn’t Sham, I’d been keeping tabs on him too. No, this person had somehow been in the tree above me.

The shape turned to look at me, his eyes red, his forehead ridged. “You’re not supposed to be here with her,” the vampyre hissed.

I blew my cover. All I could think about was getting away, so I scrambled out of the bushes, heart racing, barely aware of the person in the overcoat sidling up to Amy as I ran towards her.

At the time, I was thinking that she was the one with the knife, and the power over what was her own dream, so she could save me. (Again, Trixie hit me for that when I was telling this story, because from Amy’s perspective, she was now being accosted on both sides, one side by Overcoat, the other by me and a vampyre.) To perhaps no one’s surprise, Amy froze up.

“Idiots,” I heard Sham say, somewhere off to my left. It sounded like he was now hurrying in as well.

Apparently, Sham the PI was on the level, whereas Amy now had both a stalker and a vampyre to deal with.

That’s when I got knocked to the ground from behind.

It’s only a dream, I told myself as I fell, attempting to defy physics by missing the ground, or at the least springing back up like an acrobat. Instead, I wrenched something, ending up flat on my face, my wrist hurting like hell.

I quickly rolled over while bringing my knee up, which ended up knocking the vampyre aside as it tried to jump on me (or over me?), buying us a few extra seconds.

“Amy,” I called out, tilting my head back. The upside down image I saw involved Amy looking shocked on the park bench, as Sham Spayed got Overcoat into an arm lock. “Do something?”

“What?” she protested.

I was tempted to say ‘anything’ but recognizing that she needed specific directions here, I opted for, “Exert your power and change the setting!”

It was too dark to see the vampyre properly, plus with any luck, a good dose of sunlight would do him in.

“To what?” she still questioned.

My attention was back on the vampyre, as I threw an arm over my lower face and neck. It loomed above me, about to jump again. I think I said something like, “Your favourite dream. Please, Amy, now!”

Have any of you wondered what it’s like to be an animated character, where suddenly a new cel background is dropped in behind you without warning? I’m guessing no, but know that this is the point when I felt about the same way that character would feel.

The park was gone.

So were the muted colours, everything was suddenly rather bright, and I was indoors, near a window. As such, before even taking stock of everything else, I rolled in that direction, into the sunbeam. Only when it didn’t seem like the vampyre was about to reach in after me, did I sit up to take stock of the situation.

This was a residential house. I think we were in the living room, by the hallway for the front door.

The vampyre was on the floor by the couch, also looking around. Sham Spayed seemed to be accosting the coat rack near the entryway, having an empty coat in an armlock. And Amy… well, her hair was no longer purple. But that was the only thing I immediately recognized about her.

She was standing in the middle of the room, holding an older looking lamp in her hands, while dressed head to toe in Arabic looking silks and translucent fabrics. Like a djinn, or genie, basically.

Looking back, the “Aladdin” story may have been where her fascination with lamps started. It was definitely the reason she hadn’t tried to exert control on the dream before, as she’d known this was where her desires would lead, and she hadn’t been certain it would be of any help.

(I can say that definitively because Amy admitted as much to me later. For the record, she didn’t want to talk much about what happened, but as far as this setting goes, she was willing to confirm what I already suspected. Being a genie was a fantasy of hers, and she’d held out some hope of trying this by herself… until I started popping in and out of the dreamworld, speaking about complications.)

“Boss?” Sham said, dropping the overcoat.

He was speaking to the vampyre, who was now rising off the floor. The private investigator’s features morphed then, changing him into a much older looking male with white hair, his height increasing by a few inches as well.

This was the Somnalibus.

The vampyre snarled in his direction. “I thought you still held a measure of control.”

The demon shrugged. “I do. So does she. I couldn’t get the knife away from her.”

“Why were you even helping her out?” the vamp continued. “I was planning on taking over the stalker persona once I’d dealt with Melissa’s interloper here.”

“Earning her trust. A concept I know you have difficulty with.”

Something in the demon’s tone made me look closer at him. He looked back at me, and for a split second, his expression verged on apologetic.

Had his attitude towards me been out of a belief that the vampyre held a measure of control over me? Or that I was some sort of test?

Either way, I judged here that the Somnalibus wasn’t an additional adversary. Not yet. It helped that I had a couple weeks of research to back up Melissa’s initial assessment back after my graduation, namely that these demons were non-confrontational by nature.

The vamp grumbled something under his breath before concluding, “No matter. As long as I feed on these two, I’ll gain enough strength to affect their reality. You just wait for my signal, demon. Since Charlie’s been marked, there will be an unavoidable time lag before I can locate and jump to another willing patsy.”

I struggled to my feet - doing so carefully, to avoid putting any weight on my sore wrist. “But Amy has control of this scene now,” I declared. “You’re at a disadvantage. Surrender, vampyre, and maybe we’ll go easy on you!”

The vampyre turned a look of disbelief on me. “Ha! One of Virga’s associates, showing mercy to an intruder from another realm? Are you stupid, or do you merely have absolutely no idea who you’re working for?”

I was reminded of how this guy knew about Melissa prior to their meeting. Somehow. “Melissa’s fair minded,” I countered. “If you were to agree to a memory wipe prior to a return to your realm, I hardly think…”

He laughed. “No, you hardly do. I can’t believe I didn’t detect her arrival even sooner. Unless, in your realm, we only just entered the window for fulfillment of prophecy…?” His voice trailed off, as he seemed to muse on that.

I risked intruding on his thinking. “Prophecy?”

The vampyre shot me a look. “Never mind. Three months of your time should be more than adequate for reestablishing myself. But first of all…” And he lunged for Amy, who was not in a sunbeam.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 2c: OF VAMPYRES AND GENIES

I had pulled them out as I reached the bedroom doorway. I’d had no real plan, other than throwing them at the vampyre, but Melissa must have seen them out of the corner of her eye, and she had a better idea.

She pressed the cloves between her palms, saying, “Sublimare.”

When she next opened her palms, the solid garlic had become completely gaseous. A gas which the vampyre inhaled as he again attempted to go for Melissa’s neck.

The vampyre (and Charlie?) screamed.

He screamed like he had just inhaled acid or something, loud enough for me to think that we’d finally alerted the neighbours to something happening here. The vampyre then clawed briefly at its neck, and collapsed. Or rather, Charlie’s body collapsed, as Melissa was about to clarify.

“The Culicinae spirit’s fled,” Melissa said, visibly shaken as she attempted to get back onto her feet.

I gave her a hand in rising, and she shot me a look of thanks. It was surprising how much that made this feel like old times.

“It’ll have retreated back to safety, with the Somnalibus,” Melissa added. “Thus inside Amy’s dream. We’ll need to retrieve the demonic control object, then return to the hotel so that I can perform another invocation, allowing us inside your friend’s dream world. To deal with that vampyre spirit for good.”

“I’ve already been inside Amy’s dream,” I offered. “And I likely will be again. If that’s helpful.”

In fact, it had happened to me once more on my trip over here. Fortunately, not for long, and as I was driving away from an intersection, so not at high speed. Otherwise, there could have been an accident.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Melissa shot me a look of mild surprise. I don’t often manage to elicit that sort of response from her, and felt perversely pleased.

“You were holding the knife too,” she deduced immediately. “Okay, I can work with that. First, to the washroom.”

By which she meant the last room in the apartment that she hadn’t investigated. Immediately upon opening the door, she saw that the oddly ornate mirror, which was hung overtop of the medicine cabinet, was emitting the glow she was looking for. It’s… probably best not to dwell on the fact that the bathroom had been selected as the location for spying on Amy’s dreams.

Melissa waved her palm over the glass.

“Okay, it’s all the vampyre’s doing,” she decided. “It trapped the Somnalibus here as a way of corrupting Halko, in order to eventually get itself a body."

“Then Charlie’s innocent in all this?” I wondered.

Melissa shook her head. “Not really, he knew what he was doing. Okay James, first you kill or banish the vampyre that’s in Amy’s dream. Otherwise it might get strong enough to escape back into its realm.”

I frowned. “But don’t you want it to go back in its realm? Rather than running loose in ours?”

“He seemed more the type to return here with friends. I think we have to nip this one in the bud. Now, once you’ve dealt with him, I’ll shatter the mirror to release the Somnalibus – which will also eliminate the peculiar crack that this object seems to have generated between us and the Culicinae. Understood?”

I did, actually. Which didn’t mean there weren’t problems. “Thing is, I have no more garlic to attack the vampyre with.”

“Irrelevant, you’ll have to use dream world garlic anyway. Don’t worry, so long as our vampyre is in there, he’s vulnerable to that reality.”

“Amy’s dreams also have no garlic though,” I added.

“Makes sense, because the vampyre was controlling Amy’s dreams through Charlie. However, the Somnalibus should be able to exert more control now, if Amy allows him. Which she can do, seeing as she’s now lucid dreaming. Besides, there’s always the knife, decapitation kills most anything.”

“Um, and how exactly are we supposed to identify this demon – or the vampyre, for that matter?”

“It’s Amy’s dream, not mine,” Melissa said, starting to sound irritated. “Check inside lamps, maybe? You know her better than I do, James, you’ve just spent several weeks with the girl.”

“But I don’t–”

And with the momentary ringing in my ears, I was back inside Amy’s dream.

We seemed to be in a movie theatre now, in the main lobby. There were a handful of others present, but I was able to spot Amy once more, by virtue of her purple hair. I even managed to walk towards her this time, reality not reasserting itself quite as fast as before.

It seemed Amy was talking to a guy in a trench coat and hat. That was a new development.

“It could be an ex-boyfriend after me,” Amy was saying to TrenchCoat, before spotting my approach. “Oh, hello again James.”

I picked up on a bit of resentment there. I imagine she wasn’t thrilled with how I kept coming and going.

“And who’s this then?” TrenchCoat demanded.

“This is James. My current boyfriend,” Amy answered with a little sigh, before fully turning to me. “I was just explaining to Sham Spayed here about my stalker problem.”

The ‘boyfriend’ thing worried me, but then, this was her dream. I decided to take the comment in stride. “This is the private investigator you were going to see earlier,” I deduced. “The one who vanished.”

“Mmm,” Sham said, noncommittally. “Yeah, sorry about being called away suddenly, but I’m on the case now. So, Ms. Lampana, you said you had only a knife with which to defend yourself? Let me have a look at it.”

I immediately realized that the reappearance of the private investigator, and disappearance of the vampyre in reality, couldn’t be complete coincidence. Also, that it might be a bad idea, letting the PI have the knife that was acting as a focus for Amy’s lucid dreaming.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t voice any of that, because I again found myself back in Charlie Halko’s bathroom.

Melissa had apparently used the intervening time to pull the mirror down off the wall. (She later told me that she’d also checked that Charlie’s pulse was normal. In the end, once he came to, Charlie was pretty shaken by the incident. He swore off internet videos, which meant that Amy didn’t have to take out a restraining order against him.)

“We’re going back to the hotel,” the brunette declared, upon seeing me alert once more. She then half led, half dragged me back towards the apartment door, in passing switching off the lamp that she’d illuminated.

“Wait,” I protested, still parsing what I’d seen in Amy’s dream. “From what I just saw, I think I’d better return to the dreamworld, sooner rather than later.” Another thought occurred. “And is there some way to prevent me from being pulled back and forth at these really inconvenient times??”

“Let’s get to your car,” Melissa said succinctly. “Once there, I’ll put a conditional on you, allowing you to be in the dream permanently from that entry time up until, let’s say two minutes after you next touch the talisman knife. If you return to reality before I can enter as well, I’ll know it’s time to destroy the mirror. Sound good?”

“Two minutes? What if I need more time?”

“Don’t. I want to smash the mirror as soon after the vampyre’s defeat as possible, to prevent other incursions. But breaking it will free the demon, and subsequently cause Amy to wake up. You’ll really need to be out before then.”

“Oh, good…” I think that was Melissa’s way of telling me I might become trapped in the dream.

By this point we were in the hall, having closed Charlie’s apartment up. That seemed to be the cue for one of the adjacent apartment doors to open a crack.

“Hey, uh, did you hear screams?” a guy said tentatively from behind a chain lock.

“Tenant here REALLY didn’t like the mirror we brought him,” I offered up, thinking fast and gesturing at the object Melissa was holding.

“Ah.” A pause. “Right.” The guy’s door closed again.

People believe what they want to believe.

We hurried out to my car, this time with Melissa in the driver’s seat, the mirror tossed into the back. She turned to look at me.

“Incidentally, if you get the chance, ask the vampyre how it knew my name. If I’m becoming known outside of our realm, I’d like to know why. Now, are you ready?”

I took a deep breath. “I think I –”

“Dormis,” Melissa stated, tapping her index finger on my forehead.

I was back in the movie theatre.

The first thing I noticed was Amy and the PI both holding onto the knife from before, with him seemingly examining it. Now, I know that in theory once you start lucid dreaming, you don’t suddenly forget you’re in a dream, but we were bending the rules as it was – plus one can spontaneously wake up from a lucid dream, and I’m not sure where that would put me.

I quickly strode the two paces back over, saying, “Amy, don’t lose your grip on the knife.”

I almost reached out for it myself, before remembering that doing so would start the countdown for my own exit from the dreamworld. There was a lot to keep track of here.

Amy turned back to me. Her grip on the weapon remained firm, which was good as it seemed to me like Sham attempted to use her momentary distraction to jerk it away… but then maybe I was reading too much into him shifting his weight back and forth.

“James, can you stop running off already?” she said, trying not to sound exasperated (and failing).

“Yup,” I affirmed. “This time, I’m here until the conclusion.”

I shared a glance with Sham, the PI. His eyes narrowed a bit, but otherwise he remained pretty inscrutable.

“Fine, well, keep the knife then,” he concluded, releasing his own hold on the object.

Amy slipped it back into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing, still mostly looking at me. Possibly wondering if I was actually me, or if my declaration meant she’d manifested me as part of her dream. Hopefully my knowing about the knife’s significance was proof enough for her.

“Now, Ms. Lampana,” Sham droned on. “I know you said you preferred to keep somewhere public, but that won’t be possible all the time. Best we set up a situation now, where we can coax this stalker of yours out of hiding. We’ll confront him before he becomes violent.”

“Really?” Amy said, dubiously. She looked at me.

“Actually, yeah, the sooner the better,” I agreed.

My reasoning was, with too many people around, it would be really hard to get a read on where the vampyre was hiding. Moreover, if Sham’s setup seemed sketchy, I’d know he was the vampyre. Plus, in the back of my head, I was worried that the longer this went on, the more likely Amy would wake up of her own accord, possibly trapping me.

“Oh,” Amy concluded, rather nonplussed.

In retrospect, I completely understand her reaction. Sham and I were effectively telling Amy to put herself in harm’s way of a stalker. If it makes you feel any better about my insensitivity, Trixie gave me what for about this later, smacking my head as she pointed out that I was an idiot for not considering what kind of suggestion that was for a female.

“Don’t forget, ultimately you have control over what happens,” was all I said at the time.

She smiled uncertainly at that. After all, this was only a dream. A lucid dream that, by now, Amy should have had some control over.

Which was when it struck me how pedestrian things had remained. No magical beings or flying cars to be seen… Amy was either keeping things low key, or had not yet bothered to exert her will on the situation.

Had it been me lucid dreaming, I suspect by that point I’d have tried flying, or casting spells the way Melissa could. It made me even more aware of how incompatible Amy and I might be, long term.

“Good, then here’s what I’m proposing,” Sham went on, oblivious to the situation between us.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 2b: OF VAMPYRES AND GENIES

“Watch out for my lights,” Charlie shouted at her, baring his teeth in anger. Which was Melissa’s first real clue as to his nature, what with two of his teeth being pointed fangs.

“Oh, perfect,” Melissa said sarcastically. (For the record, I seem to have taught Melissa sarcasm to the point where she now does it without me there. Is that good?)

Opting for avoidance, my former roommate faked left, then moved right, throwing open the doors of one of the other closed rooms. It was the bedroom, and again, pretty much what you’d expect to see there, albeit in this case including the existence of more lamps. Also, a couple of printouts of Amy in different wigs tacked up on the wall.

Nothing seemed to be glowing. So either the item controlling the Somnalibus in Amy’s dreams was in the last room, or it had been quickly hidden away somewhere.

Charlie was fast, though. Melissa has since remarked that it’s the fast reflexes and healing properties of his breed of vampyres that make them formidable opponents, rather than their physical strength. She barely had time to turn before she was being forced to back up, right into that bedroom.

While there existed the option to flee through the window (it was only the second story, plus there was a chance of grabbing at the nearby balcony - albeit equally a chance of getting tangled in the large black curtain), Melissa didn’t like her odds of getting back into the residence afterwards.

She grabbed a lamp instead, brandishing it in the a dim light entering from the main living area.

“I’ll smash this into the dresser,” she warned.

“I’ll stop you in time,” Charlie countered, poised to spring. “And then you’ll regret it.”

“You can’t be a hundred percent sure, or you would have jumped by now,” Melissa countered. “Perhaps we could talk about this.”

“You broke into my place, there’s nothing to discuss,” he shot back.

“How about the fact that you’re being possessed by a vampyre spirit of the Culicinae realm, who’s been gaining power over you by having a Somnalibus demon respond to your commands.”

Charlie stared. “How did you work THAT out?” he said, rather taken aback.

I was rather impressed myself (after the fact), given how Trixie had needed a few minutes of web searching to come to the same conclusion.

(“It was a bit of a reach,” Melissa told me later. “But along with his fast reactions and pointed teeth, there was the comfort of blackness in his place, the playing up of an obsession implying a compulsive personality, and finally a faint buzzing noise when he spoke. Trixie can research all she likes, it’s no substitute for being out in the field, James.”)

“Irrelevant,” is how Melissa responded at the time. “The point is, unless you actually WANT to become a being that requires blood for sustenance, Charlie, you need my help.”

A few emotions ran over Charlie’s face at that point. Melissa wasn’t able to describe them to me, at the time she simply held her ground, figuring any sudden moves would only help the vampyre spirit reassert itself.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

After what the brunette estimated to be about five minutes, but which no doubt felt even longer, Charlie spoke again. “I… I just want it to be over,” he said.

Melissa almost relaxed.

Charlie bared his fangs. “And if were to drink the blood of a true spell caster, like yourself, my transformation would finally be complete.”

Melissa pursed her lips. “Right, well, that’s not going to happen,” she sighed. “So, better decision, we excise the vampyre, so that it can be destroyed, freeing you to make more sensible choices.”

The dark haired man stared, and then bared his teeth again. “You are no match for us. For ME. Surrender now, and I promise not to drain you completely dry, witch.”

“Several minutes to think, and yet you still make the wrong decision,” Melissa said with another sigh. She raised her free hand into the air to snap her fingers, whilst muttering under her breath, “Illusio, Culincinae!”

Immediately, her form changed. Bumps appeared on her forehead, as two of her teeth lengthened into fangs. She drew herself to her full height, and then a bit more, before glaring, her green eyes momentarily flickering red.

“What about now?” Melissa challenged. “Same strength and speed as you, plus magical control. I suggest YOU surrender.”

Charlie took a half step back - only to reassert his pose and look smug. “I’m not stupid,” he declared. “A transformation like that is impossible to maintain. And your type cannot weild magick with the intent to cause harm, even against – I’d even say particularly against – your own self. So you cannot change your body chemistry to be vampyric on a whim, any more than I could change into a bat at any time of my choosing.”

Melissa stared. “No?”

“No. Otherwise, your human body would rebel, the same way humans need compatible blood when receiving donations. No, young witch, I have seen through you. You are out of your league here.”

Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “You seem to know an awful lot, considering you’re from another realm, Culicinae.”

Charlie – or really the vampyre, as Charlie had almost completely given up control by now – shrugged. “The more the balance on your Earth is thrown off, the more the barriers are breaking down. Faster and faster, of late. Perhaps it would be a mercy for you to die now, before it gets really bad? I can help you there.”

Melissa snapped her fingers in the air again, dispelling the illusion she’d crafted about herself. It had obviously not had the desired effect, and took at least marginal effort for her to maintain, effort she preferred to put elsewhere. Though she remained standing as tall as she could.

“Thing is, I’m going to keep it from getting really bad,” she stated coldly. “Starting with you.”

That brought the vampyre up short even more than Melissa’s vampire image had. There’s a certain tone she brings out on occasion, one that brooks no argument, and when accompanied by a look, Mel can have people obeying her almost before they know it.

Then, as if sensing he was on the verge of losing the advantage (or possibly losing control back to Charlie), the vampyre sprang.

Melissa threw the lamp at Charlie’s head.

With the reflexes of a cat, he caught it in midair with one hand, as his other moved to deliver an uppercut.

But Melissa wasn’t there any more.

She had edged to the side, then jumped over onto the bed. After one jump to turn her body back around - as well as test the springs - she coiled her body up, then sprang for the ceiling.

Accomplishing a flip around in midair, Melissa landed back in the bedroom doorway, and then strode quickly out of harm’s way. Or that had been the plan, at least.

The vampyre was a little bit faster than her.

Charlie had swiftly set the lamp aside, then headed back for the door, rather than aiming another blow for Melissa in the air. As such, he managed to grab a handful of my witch friend’s long hair as she fled through the doorframe, then used his hold to yank her back inside.

This had the added bonus of pulling her off balance.

He then twisted the hair around his hand, pulling Melissa’s head off to the side and baring his fangs. She could feel his breath on her skin as he moved to sink his teeth into the unobstructed view of her neck.

“Saeta!” Melissa gasped out.

With that, Melissa’s hair came alive. At least, it did so in that it attempted to twist away from Charlie’s grasp, while at the same time frizzing up and getting in his face, blocking the easy path to her skin.

“Pffth!” the vampyre said, now having to try and spit out a mouthful of her elegantly shampooed hair in order to again go for the jugular. Facing away from him, her next move involved lifting her foot and kicking back towards his legs.

Melissa was successful with one blow, which was immediately followed by the vampyre shoving her into the wall. Hard, and headfirst.

Melissa was unable to brace herself, or prevent her body from collapsing onto the floor, but she at least managed to turn so that the two of them were facing each another once again. She then raised one hand, preparing to deflect the next attack, her hair still attempting to defy gravity as it waved in the air.

In Melissa’s later account, she told me that it was only at this point that she really considered going on the offensive. However, I will say that she has some difficulty with that sort of mindset, plus she wanted to avoid too much collateral damage to the apartment complex. In particular, fire, her best bet against a vampyre, was liable to spread, particularly given the abundance of curtains and other flammable material.

Even as she considered her options, the vampyre grabbed the bedspread and threw it at where she sat on the floor, following it up by leaping at her himself. He was probably reasoning that she’d be preoccupied with removing the sheet, leaving herself exposed to attack.

Except Melissa simply let the spread fall upon her, which made it even more difficult for the vampire to find an opening. Granted, it also served to restrict Melissa’s movements even more.

Ultimately, the vampyre found itself trying to yank the sheet away again.

Which is where he got a bit of a break, in that one of Melissa’s arms had become tangled in the folds. So, by tossing the sheet back behind himself, she was pulled back towards him, and the fabric fell away, giving him another clear chance at a bite.

Her palm went to his chin, to keep him from biting. But at this point, there was no way she could keep him off her indefinitely, not without causing collateral damage.

This is when I arrived.

Trixie’s skeleton key having been successful at granting me access to the building, I burst through the still unlocked apartment door, quickly taking stock of the situation.

Namely, nothing happening, a flickering lamp providing the only light. But it sounded like there was a scuffle in the bedroom.

“Melissa?” I called out, risking drawing attention to myself as I hurried towards the doorway.

The vampyre froze. “Melissa… not Melissa Virga?” the possessed Charlie said, his eyes growing larger as he looked down at the brunette witch.

“Behind you,” Melissa said, throwing her voice to a position near his right ear. (Have I mentioned Melissa picked up ventriloquism in her youth?)

The vampyre jerked his head that way, allowing Melissa to smack his face, spinning him off balance for a change, the diminutive brunette then scurrying out of his clutches and off towards me, though never taking her gaze away from him.

“How can you know me?” she demanded.

Because he had, in fact, used her full, true name, not the pseudonyms I’m using as I publish Melissa’s cases here.

He simply stared at her again. Then the grin came back, and it made my blood run cold.

“I can be the one to ensure that you never restore the balance,” the Culicinae vampyre declared, his eyes taking on a hint of the crazy. As if it no longer mattered what happened to him. “I can be a hero to my realm.”

And with that, the vampyre launched himself at her once more.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 2a: OF VAMPYRES AND GENIES

Feeling momentarily disoriented, I took a half step back before evaluating my surroundings. Large wooden desk, coat rack, filing cabinet, no obvious windows. That is, the door had a window, but the glass was frosted. Had I just been magically teleported somewhere? If so, it wouldn’t have been the first time.

Lacking anything better to do, I moved to open the door and peer outside.

On the other side of it was Amy, although she seemed to have purple hair. Like in one of her reviews, except it didn’t look like a wig, the colour looked completely natural. She looked equally startled to see me.

“James?” she said in confusion. She looked down at the rather familiar knife in her hand, then back up. “Did I summon you here? Because the private investigator I was hiring a minute ago just seemed to vanish on me when I turned–”

And then just like that, I was back in the hotel.

“–like an idiot,” Trixie concluded.

“Whoa, what?” I placed a hand to the side of my head to steady myself.

“I said you could actually suggest pertinent details from Amy’s recurring dreams, or continue to stand there like an idiot,” the redheaded witch reiterated without missing a beat, still scrolling through the internet using her electronic device.

“I think I just saw it,” I admitted. “She was with a private investigator.”

“Vampyr PIs, okay, that narrows it down to Moonlight, Angel, Forever Knight, maybe True Blood – no, wait, Blood Ties…” Trixie stopped and looked back up. “JUST saw? Wait. Were you also holding onto the talisman when Amy fell asleep?”

“Yeah.”

Trixie stared. “Huh. That’s either brilliant, or idiotic. I know which direction I’m leaning, but then again, maybe you do have some usefulness after all. Go fig.”

She finally lowered her keyboard to continue. “Look, there’s a good chance Amy’s dreams were being used as a kind of self insertion fanfiction. Can you recall anything more about a dream motif on her end that might lead us towards the kind of vampyr we’re dealing with?”

“Uh…” I tried to recall some of the information I’d previously passed on to Melissa. “The theme was often film noir, so not a lot of sunlight.”

“Yeah, but no vampyre types like sun, it doesn’t even kill all of them, and right now it’s 11 PM, so Missy can’t use that. Next?”

“Okay, euh… oh, countdowns. There was almost always a countdown to some event or other celebration in a lot of the dreams Amy could remember.”

“So now we’re leaning towards the more OCD vampyres, like the ones from X-Files or the Count from Sesame Street. Better. More?”

“I…”

With a slight ping in my ears, I was back in Amy’s dreamworld again. This time I was standing in a lobby. It seemed likely that I was in the same building that the PI’s office had been in during my last trip, as I saw Amy walking across the open area, towards the front doors.

“Amy!” I called out to her, hurrying to catch up. “Where are you going?”

She turned. “James? You’re back! I… I was thinking I should be somewhere surrounded by people. Or should I just wake up? I mean, if the investigator was Charlie, and he’s not here any more?”

“No,” I said hastily, which I then attempted to clarify. “There’s been complications. What I need to know is –”

How could I put it incredibly succinctly? There was no telling how much time I had left here! But just like that, I had it. “Is there anything that you particularly enjoy in real life, that you never, ever, remember having or seeing while you’re inside of these dreams?”

Amy blinked, and her brow creased a bit as she looped a bit of purple hair back off her ear. “Wow, no pressure, huh? Um… oh! Would garlic bread count? That and bruschetta, it’s never on the menus in the restaurants which–”

“–are being increasingly unhelpful,” Trixie concluded in annoyance, as I adjusted to my return to reality.

“Garlic,” I said firmly. “Garlic’s been absent from Amy’s dreams. It must be a particular weakness.”

“Says who?” Trixie said dismissively. “Vampyres have heightened senses, which are irritated by items like allium sativum.” Then her head canted to the side, one of her two red twintails swishing over her shoulder. “Unless?”

She resumed tapping at her keyboard.

“Unless?” I prompted after a second or two.

“Culicinae realm,” the redhead muttered. “It fits, but realistically there’s no way Charlie would know about it. Still…” She punched a final button, then spoke into her phone. “Rixi, garlic cloves.”

“All right,” the device intoned back. It didn’t sound like Siri, the voice was an electronic variation on Trixie’s own voice. “Accessing.”

Having backpedalled a step or two at the sound, I stepped forwards again. Only to take another step back as a small globe of light appeared, hovering over the screen. Inside the glowing sphere, what looked like a few cloves of garlic appeared; Trixie grabbed them, which dispelled the light.

Sensing (or expecting?) my amazement, the young witch shot me a knowing grin. “My own personal Siri, connected to my magical hammerspace. Did I mention I have an IQ of 151?”

“Um, no,” I said. I supposed I could believe it, she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. “And why do you have a hammerspace full of garlic?”

“I’ve had to eat Missy’s cooking,” Trixie said with a shrug. “Remind me to impress you more later, for now, we’d better get this to my cousin.” She strode over towards the door – which I now realized had been partly ajar throughout the whole conversation – then looked back at me expectantly.

“Trixie, I can’t leave Amy,” I pointed out, gesturing at the bed.

At that moment, my Asian friend stirred a little, and I found myself standing outside on a street, no doubt in her dream again. However, this time, before I could even get a handle on exactly where Amy was, I was back in the motel room, so all that really happened was I missed the gist of what Trixie was saying. Something about driving.

“Sorry, mentally absent again,” I apologized.

Trixie pressed a palm to her forehead, and then spoke with deliberate enunciation. “Me no license. Cannot teleport somewhere new. Car faster than broom. You drive?”

“I can, but someone has to stay with Amy,” I reiterated. “If she gets in trouble in the dream, someone may need to wake her up.”

“Seriously?” Trixie made a bit of a pouty face as she stared at me. Just as I was wondering if her interpersonal skills were really any better than Melissa’s, she reached out to grab my hand.

“Fine,” the redhead said, handing over the garlic, along with another object that she pulled from her pocket. “Skeleton key,” she explained as I looked down at it. “It’s how I got in here.”

She then rattled off an address and apartment number. “But hurry up,” Trixie finished. “While I’m sure my cousin can hold her own, it’s better for all of us if she doesn’t get bitten by any lurking vampyres in the process, hm?”

Given how it had already been close to five minutes since I’d sent the text, and from what I recalled of the town’s road map, it was liable to take me another five to get over to Melissa’s location… I hurried up.

For her part, Melissa hadn’t wasted any time in shutting her phone completely off after receiving my message. She even admitted later that she hadn’t fully read what I’d sent, so perhaps I could have texted anything. For the sake of the narrative, I’ll give you the gist of what happened here, as I was talking with Trixie.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Focused on the task at hand, Melissa began by using a picture of a key (and a little magick) to trip the lock on the apartment complex. When that worked, she decided that the complex itself wasn’t housing a lot of witches, or at least that there was not liable to be any magical protection outside of Carlie Halko’s apartment.

Melissa then proceeded up the stairs and to the apartment door in question, taking just a moment to listen against it, figuring it was possible that Charlie wasn’t alone inside. As it turned out, she was correct in that, though not in the typical sense.

Hearing nothing, she gently tried the door – locked, eliminating the excuse of meaning to have gone next door – and proceeded to knock.

Some might find this tipping of her hand to be a curious decision, but understand that Melissa had held some hope that Charlie would be reasonable when confronted with the truth of the situation. Plus there was always the chance that she and Trixie had been wrong about his involvement, and on top of this, Melissa says deadbolts are a pain to deal with, even using magick.

There was no answer, but my former roommate later indicated to me that, at this point, she thought she heard someone moving around inside. Melissa then tried to open the door using the old trick of sliding a piece of plastic between the lock and the doorframe. (Well, it wasn’t plastic per se, but you get the gist.)

This being a more conventional way to break and enter, it could have tipped her off as to the extent of actual magical protection on the door, as well as informed her as to how much force she might need to use on a more unconventional attempt.

However, with a click, it felt like the door completely unlocked at this one attempt.

That immediately ramped up Melissa’s level of concern. Either Charlie was way too overconfident, or he was forgetful, or… he was otherwise prepared for this sort of eventuality.

She turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open.

At that point, all Melissa could register was that it was dark. Even the curtains leading to the small balcony were blacked out, meaning the only light spilling in was from the hall.

Committed now, Melissa took a step or two, attuning her senses to the talisman that Amy had, looking for a trace of it to pinpoint the Somnalibus as soon as possible.

The door swung shut.

Melissa ducked instinctively, having caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye. The frying pan whizzed over her head, and the person swinging it was put off balance. (Of note, her small stature can be an advantage at times like this.)

During Melissa’s initial scan, in the available light from the hallway, she had remembered seeing a light switch, and dove for it now. Hoping to gain the advantage, given that Charlie’s eyes were obviously attuned to the darkness, while she had the opposite problem.

But despite flipping the switch, no light came on.

Melissa hadn’t brought a flashlight; she doesn’t like to weigh herself down with useless items. So her backup plan became a lamp on a nearby table.

Ducking again and heading over, she didn’t even fumble for the lamp’s switch, instead reaching out to touch the bulb, then calling, “Luminarium!” The lamp switched on, revealing… a lot more lamps.

As far as layout went, Charlie’s apartment door opened into a main living area and kitchen. Apart from the closet (where Melissa deduced that her assailant had crouched when she knocked), there were two other doors. But what really drew her attention now was how a lot of available space was taken up with lights and lamps.

Ones that Amy had reviewed in her online web series.

Of course, Charlie was also visible now, brandishing the same frying pan which he’d swung earlier. He was of medium build, with short dark hair, wearing a button up shirt and pants.

“Witch!” he called out, recognizing the use of a spell (and not, presumably, fumbling a ‘b’). He flung his frying pan right at Melissa’s head, despite blinking to adjust to the illumination.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 1f: OF WITCHES AND DEMONS

“You once told me she’d be broke by now if it weren’t for you helping her plan out some investments,” Amy pointed out.

“Well, there’s that. No one’s perfect.”

“Also, she’s rude and insensitive.”

“Not out of spite. You just have to get to know her.”

Amy continued to look at me quietly for a moment. “You talk a lot about Melissa,” she said at last.

I blinked. Did I really? “Oh. Um, sorry?”

Amy shook her head. “Don’t apologize, it’s just… I don’t know. Never mind.”

Amy pulled away and rose off the bed again. “I should probably get ready to sleep,” she concluded, moving towards her overnight bag. Setting the knife on the side table, she stretched her arms over her head before reaching down to pick her bag up. “Now, no peeking,” she added, teasingly waggling a finger.

“Of course,” I retorted, pressing a hand to my chest and looking indignant as she vanished into the bathroom.

Though, truth be told, I was still a little hung up on Amy’s prior remark. With her out of the room, I used my eidetic memory to flash back to a few of my conversations over the last three weeks. Melissa had, in fact, come up in a lot of them, in one form or another.

Was I really living a life without Melissa? And was that really what I wanted?

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

For a minute, I worried that I had turned into one of those guys who’s always obliviously droning on about his ex-girlfriend. If that was the case, why hadn’t Amy said something sooner? After all, Melissa sure would have said something if… damn it, there she was again.

Amy was right, I couldn’t get her out of my head.

I forced myself to calm down and assess things a bit more rationally. It wasn’t quite as bad as it seemed. Yes, Melissa had come up in conversations, but usually only in passing, in connection to a topic already being discussed. I wasn’t purposefully mentioning her name, or drawing comparisons between the two girls, like an idiot. Melissa had simply been THERE the entire time I was in university.

Consider that game ‘Taboo’, where you have to make a person guess a word without using any of five words associated with it. Not as easy as it sounds. In the same vein, Melissa couldn’t help but be associated with a lot of words in my life. So to speak.

However.

It finally dawned on me that I’d been treating the last few weeks almost like a vacation, like “down time”. But a vacation from what? Was it in the back of my head that I’d be going back to Melissa’s agency?

Also, while I’d been enjoying my time with Amy, I hadn’t felt like she needed me the way Melissa did. Oh sure, I was helping Amy out, but I’m she could just as easily have found someone else to be a bodyguard. Could the same thing be said of the help I gave to Melissa? Because honestly, I didn’t mind helping her with organization or finance. It helped give me purpose, and she was appreciative.

Also, what of the way Melissa had been helping me to see the world?

One other point of comparison flashed into my head then, as Melissa had predicted three weeks ago. For the record, I’m not exactly proud of what I did next. When Amy came out of the bathroom, dressed in her pyjamas, I moved in close… and kissed her.

This wasn’t completely out of left field. We had almost kissed on one prior occasion, a goodnight kiss when dropping her off, and I’d been the one to turn away at the last moment. Which might be why Amy went along with it now, not shoving me or saying “what the hell?” or anything.

No, she simply kissed me back for a second or two before marginally tilting her head away.

“Why James, what prompted that?” she said coyly, slightly raising an eyebrow.

“I…” Words failed me. ‘I wanted to see if I’d enjoy a kiss with you as much as I had with Melissa’ was definitely the wrong thing to say. I wondered if Melissa would have said it anyway. “I wanted to make sure you had pleasant dreams tonight,” I managed.

I think Amy sensed there was more to it than that, but either she didn’t want to confront the issue, or she didn’t want to admit it to herself. Instead, she smiled. “Works for me!” Giving me a quick hug, she then went back over to the desk to pick up the knife, meaning she was facing away from me.

I brushed my fingers against my lips. Had Amy’s kiss been better? Worse? Well, it had been different. And maybe, in the end, that’s what was at the heart of the matter. Did I want new and different, like Amy? Or back to more of the same with Melissa? Not that any of Melissa’s cases could ever truly be called “the same” as another.

“Would you mind holding this until I actually fall asleep, then slipping it into my hand?” Amy requested, turning back and holding the knife out. “I want to minimize the chance that I’ll roll over and accidentally impale myself.”

I latched onto the change of subject. “I wouldn’t mind. But it might be that you have to be holding it when you nod off. I don’t want to be responsible for screwing up the enchantment.”

“Huh. Well, at least hold my hand too, until I’m sleeping then?”

“I… sure,” I agreed after a momentary hesitation. After all, after having kissed, that seemed like a perfectly reasonable request.

Amy got under the covers, with the exception of the arm holding the knife, and I stretched out next to her on top of the sheets, reaching over to clasp the knife along with her, as requested. She then activated it using the trigger word. The knife seemed to glow momentarily.

“Hopefully after tonight, we can put all this supernatural craziness behind us,” the dark haired girl finished with a sigh.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. Because to hear her say that finally helped me realize that I didn’t WANT to put it behind me.

I didn’t want to go through life doing a mundane job with normal people. I wanted life to be a little adventurous, a little crazy, a little… Melissa. And as far as the romance angle went, sure, Melissa only had two settings. Hot and cold. While Amy, she had layers. But with Melissa, you always knew where you stood.

I then wondered whether a mild form of Stockholm Syndrome could have been involved.

I took more time to turn things around in my head again, as Amy slowly nodded off. But ultimately, I arrived at the point where you entered this story. Looking down at my childhood friend, then at the knife, then towards the window, I realized that Melissa Virga was the one for me. Or at least, that she was the one for me at this point in my life.

At last, I had a pathway forwards.

Noting Amy’s regular breathing, I carefully pulled my hand away from the knife, pulled my phone from my pocket, and texted Melissa that Amy was asleep.

About two seconds later, the motel room door flew open, revealing a freckled redhead, sporting two twintails. She was dressed in a sleeveless collared shirt, which was grey with blue highlights, along with a short skirt and matching stockings. The outfit screamed “schoolgirl”, but while she looked sixteen, I found out later that she wasn’t much younger than I was.

The first words she hissed at me were, “Don’t send Melissa a message.”

The redheaded teenager’s voice clicked right away. I realized we’d spoken on the phone once before. “Trixie?” I said uncertainly, and quietly, so as to not wake Amy.

“Duh,” Trixie retorted, her voice similarly muted. “Oh, wait, let me guess, my cousin didn’t mention that the two of us had taken a room at the motel too?”

“No,” I admitted, rising gingerly from the bed to approach. I glanced at our motel room door. “Also, I was sure I’d locked that.”

Trixie made a show of waving her palm in a large arc in front of her. “Hiiiii. Witch. Locked motel door, not a problem, they open for anyone with a ‘key’.”

She paused, then canted her head to the side in a way that I can only describe as being remarkably cute. “So, you’re James. Wow, you’re a LOT more drab in person. Missy is actually terrible at disseminating information. Why did you leave her, exactly?"

“Hey!” I protested. “I didn’t… leave her. Not really. I just needed some time away.”

“Psssh. You don’t hire your cousin to handle your technology if you think your ex-boyfriend is coming back. Not that I care about your relationship, you realize. I simply wish Missy could’ve shut up about you for longer than five minutes.”

That remark caught me off guard. “Mel used to mention me?”

“Duh, she sure did. It’s partly why I was interested in meeting…” Trixie’s voice trailed off and her eyes narrowed. “Are you having second thoughts about her? Oh lordy, you are. C’mon, you’re not THAT plain. You could do SO much better than Missy. Even within the magick community. You know that, right?"

“What?”

“There are witches who do tech, y’know. For example, there’s me! A witch who’s nearly twenty, and who can actually carry on an intelligible conversation on Skype.” She smiled and clasped her hands behind her back, leaning forwards alluringly. “I dress better than Missy too, hmmmm? You like?”

“Uh, yes. I mean, no. I mean, you dress different, but why are you even dressed that way?”

I was a little troubled in the way my eyes responded to her lean by slipping away from her face. I registered only that Trixie probably had the ability to do bikini modelling the way Melissa could model jeans, before forcing my gaze back up. In my defence, I was tired.

“I like keeping people off balance,” Trixie answered, flashing a smile. “Also, if someone’s talking to my chest, they’re not noticing the evil look in my eye.”

I felt like this conversation was going off the rails. “Look, Trixie, why exactly should I not have sent that text to Melissa?” I questioned.

Her eyes widened. “Sent? Past tense sent, as in she’s about to attack the vampyre, sent?”

“Yeah, uh… vampire?”

Trixie strode forwards and smacked the back of my head. “Idiot, when I tell you not to send a message, don’t let me flirt, tell me right AWAY that it’s too late,” she muttered.

She then pulled a small device out of a pocket in her top. It looked sort of like a cellphone with built-in keyboard, as in an old style Blackberry, but it seemed to have a glowing red crystal embedded in it. Trixie began to poke at the buttons with her thumbs.

“Sh-Should I wake Amy up?”

“No, idiot, that just means Missy wouldn’t know what object to destroy. Assuming she even can, given how she’s not expecting to have to fight a vampyre to get to it… you know, maybe I CAN see why you ended up stuck with Melissa for four years. What’s going on in your head, James?”

“Trixie, please back up, when exactly did vampires enter the picture?”

“Vampyres, elongate the i. And they came in about five minutes ago, when I finally clued in as to the nature of the phrase Charlie Halko uses in his .signature file.”

“Okay, so, Charlie’s a vampyre…?”

The redhead continued to tap away. “No, but he’s gained the ability to emulate one. Which is surprisingly unhelpful given the twelve dozen or so vampyre variations there are out there. I’m trying to narrow it down.” She turned her screen briefly to allow me to see it. “See? TV Tropes, Our Vampires Are Different.”

The screen of her device was faintly glowing red, as opposed to blue. My best guess was that the red crystal was giving Trixie internet access via a nearby wifi. Whether she had a password or not.

“I’d better text Melissa again,” I realized.

“Oh sure, because Missy’ll drop everything to read a TEXT,” Trixie said, rolling her eyes in a good imitation of her cousin. She was immediately back to her web surfing. “For that matter, why not just PHONE Missy, alert EVERYONE to how she’s breaking and entering? Man, just when I thought you couldn’t be even more of an idiot.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” I demanded, starting to feel panicky but still wanting to keep my voice down. Behind us, Amy let out a little moan and twisted a little in the sheets.

That’s when things got really crazy.

END ACT 1

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 1e: OF WITCHES AND DEMONS

As Melissa had suggested, I spent all that time with Amy, after moving back to my hometown and staying with my parents.

The justification was that I was keeping Amy safe, being a sort of bodyguard, as well as gathering information. Which was partially true – I did get some hints about pieces of dreams, and information about fans who had sent her messages in the past, all of which I relayed on to Melissa.

Yet at the same time, I couldn’t deny that I was also taking the opportunity to see what life would be like without the presence of supernatural investigating. What life would be like without Melissa.

It wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be. On some level, that worried me.

I thought I’d be yearning for Melissa’s arms. Instead, I was realizing that half the time my interactions with her had involved me trying to make sure she had an income, and was functioning in modern society. The other half of the time had been spent trying to figure Mel out – her deductive skills, her thought processes, her romantic preferences, et cetera. For the first time in a long time, I no longer felt like had to concern myself with those things.

I DO grant that part of the trouble there could have been my balancing all of that with university classes as well. We all need some downtime, and I hadn’t had any of that in a long time either. Now I had both downtime, and time away from Melissa.

However, in a related note, I wasn’t seeing supernatural events everywhere, which others were writing off as natural phenomena. And that had been one of my other big concerns. Had Melissa known that I needed to experience this?

Finally, there’s the fact that Amy was kind of fun to be around.

I watched her do one of her online episodes, and helped to lay some of the groundwork for her newsletter. We went on what some might classify as dates, though neither of us admitted to each other that that’s what a dinner out was. (My parents, you might imagine, had no problems with the label.)

I also watched Amy sleep, in what we assured ourselves was a purely professional capacity, to see if there were any clues to be garnered there. There didn’t seem to be. (Note I didn’t actually share her bed, and I tried to behave in as much of a non-creepy way as possible.)

Then, I got the phone call.

“Amy’s stalker creep is Charlie Halko,” the female said on the other end of the line. “Missy wants you to bring Amy to a motel just outside the town where he lives. Within the next two or three days, if possible. I’ll email you the info, it’s not overseas or anything. Alright?”

I stared at my phone. “W-Who is this?”

“Trixie. This is James, yeah?”

“Yes… um, you’re working with Melissa?”

A pause. “O. M. G,” the female said at last. “Four years, FOUR FREAKING YEARS with my cousin, and she NEVER mentioned me?”

I did a quick scan back in my semi-photographic memory. “No…?”

Come to think, Melissa had never mentioned any relatives at all, not that I’d ever asked. But I suppose it stood to reason that someone within her family would have made a good replacement for me.

“Missy is SO going to hear from me about that!” came Trixie’s sharp voice. And she hung up.

I never got the email, instead getting the particulars from Melissa herself, when she called me an hour later. Apparently Trixie had told her to “send James the info your own damn self, he doesn’t know me”. More on Melissa’s cousin later.

Amy and I met up with Melissa Virga two days following, at the motel she had recommended.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“So here’s the thing,” Melissa said, pacing back and forth in front of the motel room window. (I’d drawn the curtains, of course, so no one could see us. For all I knew, this Halko guy had magical means of knowing Amy was in town, and was looking for her.) “Charlie must be using some kind of item to control the Somnibulus. Problem: I’m going to have no way of identifying what that object might be, and defusing it, unless it’s active.”

“So you need me to fall asleep,” Amy deduced. She was sitting in the only chair in the room, at the desk near the television. I was sitting on a corner of the bed.

Melissa made a little gesture, indicating agreement. “You released a new episode two days ago, and James told me that you’ve had the most difficulty getting a restful sleep in the days after a publication. Plus it’s now Friday night, a good time for Charlie to stay up, so you’re liable to be targeted. Which brings me to our next problem: To have the Somnibulus demon release you of his own free will, we need to make your dreams less hospitable to him.”

I blinked and exchanged a glance with Amy. “How do we do that?”

“Lucid dreaming,” Melissa clarified. “That is, becoming aware of the fact that you’re in a dream, and taking control of it. It’s the best way. Somnibuli hate that, they basically become at your mercy rather than the other way around.”

“I’ve heard of the concept,” Amy agreed. “But I have no idea how to do it.”

“Oh, I figured as much,” Melissa said offhandedly. She finished her most recent bout of pacing over by a small bag she’d brought with her, reaching in and pulling out an ornamental knife. “That’s why I’ve enchanted this object to act as a focus. Upon seeing it in your dream, you should realize the truth of your situation and be able to act as you like.”

Amy’s eyes went a little wider. “Okay… one, what guarantee do I have that your focus will show up in my dream at all, and second, why a KNIFE of all things?”

I found myself answering. “It makes sense that if you go to bed holding it, the enchantment will take effect, bringing it into the dream with you. As to the object itself, either the knife was particularly easy to enchant, or Melissa was considering the need for self defence. Or a combination of the two.”

“That’s pretty accurate, well done,” Melissa said, lightly tapping the fingers of one hand against her other palm in light applause. “You haven’t lost your edge.”

“No, wait, hold on,” Amy protested. “Are you saying I’m actually going to have to FIGHT this demon thing??”

“Doubtful, but you may need to bare your teeth a little, yes.” Melissa extended the hand holding the knife.

Amy continued to look at it a bit nervously. “Okay, no, wait, I need a moment here," Amy said at last, sliding out of her chair and away from Melissa’s arm. “Why didn’t you warn me it was going to come down to this three weeks ago when you first diagnosed the problem? Isn’t there some other way to handle these demons?”

“No. And I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to risk your dream reactions tipping the demon off, otherwise Charlie might have shifted his target to someone else. Making it impossible for me to locate this fan and solve this problem,” Melissa said, her tone casually dismissive. “Besides, it’s not like you could have prepared.”

Amy made a face. “You don’t know that. Also, I’m not good with knives. What if the demon takes it, or otherwise manages to get control of the dream away from me?”

Melissa sighed. “I don’t know, but according to James, the demon hasn’t been giving you images of anguish and torture to this point. Why would he start now?”

“Because now I’d be actually trying to annoy him!” Amy pointed out. She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself, and it was again obvious to me that she hadn’t been kidding about getting flustered by the unexpected. “I’m not sure I’ll even be able to fall asleep at this rate.”

Melissa now let out a sound of exasperation, while rolling her eyes. “Well, I’m sorry this doesn’t fit in with your world view. But look, James will be staying here with you! Right? The way he has been for the last several weeks, to keep you out of danger, and to wake you up if necessary. All better?”

Both girls turned to look at me at that point. Amy’s expression was almost pitying, as if it was dawning on her that Melissa really was a heck of a roommate to have had for four years. Melissa’s expression… was, as always, harder to read, but it seemed almost… wistful? Could it be that she’d hoped to bring me along with her to Halko’s?

I decided I was merely seeing what I wanted to see.

“No, not all better, but with James here, I suppose there’s a better chance of me enjoying myself tonight,” Amy said after a moment. Her tone now struck me as petty, but again, might have been imagining it.

I also nodded agreement, though I’d kind of expected that I’d end up staying behind anyway. So I wasn’t upset with Melissa having volunteered this duty on me. Heck, it would hardly have been the first time she did something like that, usually my own safety being part of the equation.

“Just one more thing though,” Amy said, finally taking the knife and holding it gingerly. “Is it true that if you die in a dream, you die in real life?”

Melissa merely rolled her eyes again before looking at me. Which, I must point out, wasn’t a denial.

“James, to activate the talisman, just have Amy say ‘Incipio’,” Melissa said. “Oh, and send me one of those text things once your friend’s fully asleep. That way I’ll know it’s time to break into Charlie’s apartment. Got it? Good.”

She headed out before waiting for a response, though I suppose my not protesting or calling her back was response enough.

With that, I turned my attention back to my former schoolmate. “Let’s focus on positive thinking at this point,” I suggested, knowing Melissa had utterly failed to address Amy’s concerns. “From what I’ve read about the Somnibuli, this guy will take one look at the knife and run. No problem.”

I managed a smile, and she smiled back.

“Thanks, James.” Amy then glanced idly about the room, as I stood and went to lock the door for an added show of security. “You know, in under a month we’ve progressed from dinner to checking into a motel together,” she said. “At this rate, people will talk.”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. “Uh, yeah. Guess it’s a good thing you’re not famous enough yet to have paparazzi?” I fired back. Then, seeing her smile vanish, I back-pedalled. “Sorry, that sounded better in my head.”

Amy shook her head. “Oh, it’s not that, it’s just… well, I suppose in a way it is that.” She stood herself, moving to the bed and curling her legs up. I rejoined her, again sitting on the edge.

“It seems to be a human thing,” she continued. “To want to be popular, to want to have our fifteen minutes of fame, huh? Yet now here I am, a borderline celebrity, and look where it’s got me. Attacked by a crazed fan with a pet demon.” She shook her head. “And if I get any more popular, I may not have a life of my own to look forward to… or not a private one, anyway. Do you think people would be trying to dredge up gossip on me?”

“Uh, I don’t know.” I tried to think of something cheery to say. “At least you’re not an author, like me. We’re pretty much disregarded, barring the off chance of a story being turned into a movie or a television serial.”

“James…”

Making light of the situation obviously wasn’t helping. “Sorry,” I said again, this time reaching out to put my arm around Amy’s shoulders. She leaned into me. “You don’t have to keep doing your lamp reviews, you know,” I pointed out.

“Oh, I know,” Amy sighed. “But I enjoy it And I don’t want to disappoint the few fans I have. Of course, being a part time waitress to help pay for it, that I can do without. Maybe I should have aimed for better than a three year degree.” She shook her head. “I guess my life just isn’t going quite how I pictured it would.”

“Life never does,” I granted. “Unless you’re Melissa.”

Amy turned to look at me, her expression hinting at a frown. “What?”

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 1d: OF WITCHES AND DEMONS

“Mel…”

Her fingers snapped. “Oh, right, we’ve had this conversation before. Honestly, we should just take that clock down and be done with it.”

“It’s 8pm,” I said, holding up my wrist and pointing to my own watch.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“There you go then," Melissa concluded. “Bedtime. I’ll join you. Not in the physical sense, admittedly.” With a quick wink, she grabbed a file folder of sheets off her desk and retreated into her bedroom.

“It’s hardly joining me if you stay up in your own bed working,” I called out to the closed door.

She didn’t respond. I hadn’t really expected her to.

Giving up, I had some dinner and made my own preparations for an early bedtime, but I ended up staring at the ceiling for a good hour. Trying to determine what I was supposed to be doing with the rest of my life. There wasn’t much time left to decide on a direction.

At this point, some of you might be wondering how I could have fallen for someone like Melissa. Given how that attitude was pretty typical behaviour for her, while I aim to be non-confrontational. Two things to bear in mind here.

First, it ramped up over the space of several years of living together, during which I got to know certain things. Like how, deep down, Melissa did care about the people around her… she simply couldn’t be bothered to conform to society’s expectations of how a person should act, and preferred to distance herself from the unpredictable. And second, I admit it, from the beginning I was physically attracted.

Could I have looked elsewhere for such companionship? Maybe. I did have a fling with a girl when we were both in second year, but she started moving way too fast, wanting me to move out of the place with Melissa after less than two months of dating. That wasn’t in the cards.

I think part of me also became accustomed to Melissa’s weird quirks and mannerisms over time, things that made others give the self-proclaimed witch a wider berth. To the point where I worried I would miss them.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, there was a time when I was put off by the fact that witches are something of a target for the supernatural. But around the same time I realized that rooming with Melissa made me a target even if we weren’t going out, she realized that I was of assistance with the human side of the equation. Also, she’s even said she finds me attractive… though I think it’s a spiritual attractiveness. I’m not the kind of guy who stands out in a crowd.

At any rate, at this point I could walk us through the graduation ceremony, but we all know how unbelievably boring those things are – minus the thirty seconds or so during which the person you know is actually receiving their congratulations. So I’ll hit the highlights:

1. I got my degree, and my parents got photos.

2. Melissa came, and wore a shimmery green dress with strappy sandals that had my jaw drop. (She really is more of a jeans and T-shirts girl, even wearing them to her own graduation. So it was nice that she made an effort on my behalf.)

3. Amy came, and returned the pendant to Melissa. Her dress was blue. We agreed to meet again the next morning before she left town, to discuss the results.

Then the five of us all went out for a late lunch, and while I doubt my mom and Melissa said more than five words to each other, no conflicts erupted. Later, there was an evening of just people from my faculty, with Melissa as my date. But we don’t generally do public displays of affection, so maybe the others thought she was there in more of a professional capacity. Who knows.

Either way, we finally got home sometime close to midnight. Melissa immediately went to check on Amy’s pendant, which she’d dropped into a glass of water earlier that afternoon.

“Somnibulus demon,” Melissa concluded, turning and holding out the glass so I could see it. The water inside was cloudy, as she reached in to pull out the pendant and dry it off on a corner of her gown.

I collapsed onto the couch, and tilted my head back so I could still see her at the desk. “Is that bad then?”

“Depends,” Melissa said, rather indelicately hopping up to sit on said desk as she looked at the pendant again. “They feed on dream energy. Usually no, not a problem, in fact one can even be beneficial when they take away a particularly bad dream. Those are the times when you can’t remember why you’re freaking out in the morning. Of course, it works both ways, sometimes they take good dreams too.”

“Mmm. How do they fit in with the idea of supernatural balance?” I asked.

For the record, this balance is actually one of the key truths in magick – spells cannot be performed on the unwilling, not without severe karmic backlash. That’s part of the reason wizards wouldn’t be terribly useful in a war… toss a fireball at someone not willing to be torched, and while they may be singed, it’s the caster who would, on balance, end up worse off.

The loophole for success is passive acceptance – if said victim had thought they were capable of simply shrugging off the fireball or something, they could not truly be classified as unwilling. It’s one of the main reasons why powerful magick users haven’t tried to fix humanity or take over the world or anything like that.

At least, that’s the way things are supposed to work, according to Melissa. Over the last several hundred years though, the karmic backlash has not been occurring as it should. Which, you might imagine, means those witches and wizards who are keeping to their principles, and requiring permission to magick someone, have it rather more difficult. Seeing as their rivals, be they other witches or actual demons from a neighbouring realm, aren’t seeing the usual repercussions from not playing fair.

“There’s often a tacit acceptance on the part of a person to not remember certain dreams,” Melissa explained, idly swinging her legs. “Where things get murky is if the demon keeps returning to the same person over and over. Said person then tends to have persistent trouble sleeping and/or recurring dreams. Somnibuli generally don’t risk that kind of action without some tangible benefit, which implies the presence of a third party.”

“A third party… is that why you asked about Amy’s celebrity status?”

“Precisely,” Melissa said, tossing the pendant into the air and catching it in her palm. She jumped off the desk again. “Something – or someone – has hired the demon in order to peer into, possibly even direct, Amy’s dreams. Why? I don’t know. But given that it needed to be someone with knowledge of magick, I wagered it wasn’t anyone in Amy’s immediate circle of friends, ergo, a deranged fan.”

“Lovely,” I said dryly. “What do we do about it?”

“Well, there isn’t much we CAN do, unless we know who’s behind it,” Melissa said, a hint of irritation creeping into her tone as she returned the pendant to storage. “And since you said Amy publishes on the internet, for all we know it’s someone in outer Mongolia. Honestly, WHY does everyone refuse to recognize the ‘world wide web’ for the pain in the ass it truly is?”

I smiled despite myself. “The internet’s not as bad as all that.”

“So you keep telling me.”

“Okay Mel, look at it this way. If this fan is going to the extent of hiring demons, they’re probably not managing to stay completely anonymous,” I pointed out. “We can search through the comments on Amy’s website, as well as her email, for anyone with a supernatural or dream fixation.”

“Pain in the ass,” Melissa insisted with a grumble, crossing her arms. “This person still might be in outer Mongolia, and I don’t do trans-pacific flights.”

“You know teleportation spells,” I reminded. “And surely there’s other witches willing to help out who live out there.”

“Could be, but I don’t speak outer Mongolian.”

“Half the time you witches talk in latin anyway.”

Melissa threw her hands up. “James, why do you always make it so difficult for me to stay annoyed with technology??”

“Because it’s weird when you start to lose your cool like that. Besides, you and that dress doesn’t equal angry. You and that dress equals sexy.”

A hint of colour came into Melissa’s cheeks. “Which is precisely why I don’t wear them. Also, I know where you’re going with that thought, but you’ve been drinking. You’re not thinking clearly.”

I sat up straight. “Hey, how do you know where I’m thinking?”

“It comes with the job.” She smirked a little. “Plus, in the last twenty eight hours, you’ve been presented with the options of staying with me, or hooking up with an old flame. I’m fairly certain I know what one point of comparison is going to be.”

“Having said that,” she continued, “it is important for you to recognize that, with each of us having had our first sexual experiences with the other, any judgment is liable to be impaired. Furthermore, you must know that the stance I have taken on remaining here with my agency is not going to be swayed by the two of us having one additional mmmmlph–”

Her trailing off would be due to me standing up as she spoke, walking over, tilting her chin up, and kissing her. After a moment, I pulled back. “Talk about sex in a detached way all you like, it won’t change my feelings for you,” I said, quietly.

Melissa looked back up at me, colour now fully in her cheeks as her breathing came a little faster. “Promise me you won’t regret anything in the morning when you’re sober?”

“I’m hardly drunk on two glasses of wine.”

“Promise anyway.”

I leaned in again to kiss her cheek. “I promise.”

“Also, still calling the top,” she asserted.

I smiled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Uh, okay, I deleted a couple paragraphs there. Maybe I still left in too much, but I think it helps with our characterization?

Of course, I’m now wondering if I’ve managed to alienate everyone who came here looking for a supernatural thriller… which would be bad, since I’m now about to alienate those who were keen on this tale turning into some kind of love triangle. (Or maybe I’m just rewarding those who sat through the context? I don’t even know. Note to me, I need to fix this in editing.)

My point being, we were able to track the fan who sicced the Somnibulus demon on Amy.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 1c: OF WITCHES AND DEMONS

“You need time to think too, huh?” Amy said ruefully, obviously reading something in my expression. “That’s fine. Just keep me as an option then, I suppose? Along with the job thing? I’ll do the same, because that trick with the card was pretty cool. I’d be game to see more of that.”

I smiled wanly. “Yeah, hey, maybe we can make it such that you wouldn’t need wigs for your show,” I joked. Amy simply stared. “Alright, that was pretty lame, sorry.”

“No, hey, it’s fine. You have seen the show then,” Amy remarked. “Cool.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, well, maybe I’ve looked up a few people from those days. Once or twice. I don’t know if I ever watched a full episode.”

“It’s fine. It’s something.” Amy smiled. “Hey, you ever look up what became of Kyle, that annoying trumpet player who sat behind us?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Plays tuba now. It amuses me to think of him lugging that thing around in a marching band.”

“Hah. I guess you never know where life will take you.”

“I guess you don’t,” Amy said.

She stared at me for another moment, then glanced upwards once more. For a short time, we both simply looked at the ceiling.

“So, is it safe to leave Melissa with your parents for a prolonged period of time?" Amy said at last. “Your mom in particular didn’t seem that fond of her, both when we spoke at home, and in person up there.”

I quickly looked at my watch. “Heck! Yeah, we’d better get back up there.” I stood. “You going to be okay?”

The young internet celebrity nodded, extending a hand to allow me to help her up. “Oh, sure. I get flustered when things don’t go the way I expect, that’s all. It’s why I script religiously and avoid live shows.

She smiled, I smiled back, and we hurried upstairs.

I was glad to see that nothing had really changed. My parents were still sitting on the couch, and when I peered into the kitchen, Melissa was still there. More specifically, leaning back against the fridge with one leg slightly bent, a glass of water sitting on the counter next to her.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

She turned to look at me. “Safe yet?” she questioned, by this point looking rather contrite. “I can stay here until they’re all gone, if that’s easier.”

“You should probably at least apologize to Amy before she goes,” I remarked.

Melissa rubbed her nose. “Right. I guess she wasn’t in on it? Damn. And me still trying to get the hang of apologies, seeing as I’m so rarely wrong.”

“Melissa…”

Her hand flew out in a vague gesture. “Oh, yes, yes, I know, whenever I have a ten out of ten for accuracy, I get zero points for style.” Her tone became a little gentler. “I really am sorry, James. This day’s been a little stressful for me, but that’s no excuse to have blurted out to your mother about… us.”

“Yeah, well… let’s defer that conversation until we’re alone,” I suggested.

“Okay.” She reached up with her hands and raked them back through her hair, long locks of it flowing about her shoulders like water over a waterfall. (I swear, I like her for her mind too.) “Apology first then?”

I nodded. Melissa followed me out of the kitchen, bringing the glass of water to my dad. She then looked towards Amy.

“Sorry about earlier,” Melissa said. “Shouldn’t have dragged you into my conflict with the Conways. Let me know if you want a peace offering. I could get you some water too, or even a broccoli scone with chestnuts.”

“Um, no thanks,” Amy responded, shaking her head. “At this point I think I’ll just kind of hang back until it’s time to head out.”

“Which we’ll probably want to do very soon,” my father observed, lifting the water glass.

My mother looked up at me. I could now read her expression as resigned. She took in a long breath. “You use protection, yes?”

“Buh?” Amy said, her eyebrows going up.

“Mom! Not the time to be jumping to conclusions about how far we’ve, uh…”

“All right, all right,” Helen Conway sighed, raising her hands. “Just, James, don’t run off and elope, okay? We do want you to be happy, and if you’re happy with… with Melissa here… well, then we can get on board with that. Given enough time.”

As much as I might have wanted to get on mom’s case about eloping immediately after I’d said not to jump to conclusions, I had to grant that she was making an effort to bridge the gap. As was Melissa, who I could tell was visibly holding her tongue despite having been referred to like some woman I’d found on the street.

I forced out a smile. “I’m not about to elope,” I said, honestly.

“Right then, we’ll see you tomorrow?” my dad concluded, putting his empty glass down on the end table. He can drink fast when he wants to; it’s probably good that it wasn’t anything alcoholic.

“Right,” I concurred, moving towards the door in mild relief. This lasted all of half a second, until I saw Melissa peering much more closely at Amy, who was trying not to look uncomfortable at the other girl’s sudden scrutiny.

“Uh, Melissa…” I cautioned.

My diminutive roommate turned to look at me briefly, before shifting her gaze back to Amy. “You’re having trouble sleeping,” she diagnosed. “Slight bags under the eyes, which is not itself an issue, and yet – are you having recurring dreams?”

“Well, sometimes?” Amy said, caught off guard by the question.

Melissa turned to look at me. “Is Amy some sort of local celebrity?”

“She does reviews on the internet?” I answered, trying to figure out what Melissa had seen.

Melissa walked a quick circle around Amy. “Wow, I’m an idiot for missing this on my first pass,” she concluded. “Your hair is faintly tinted blue. I think your dreams are being hijacked by a demon. Would you consent to sleeping with me?”

“Excuse me??” chorused, well, possibly all of us in the room.

“Ah!” Melissa held up a finger. “That came out wrong. What I mean is, would you consent to letting me watch you while you sleep? Hm, still not great… oh! How about this.” She walked over towards her desk as she spoke. “Take a charm with you, sleep with it instead, and let me read it tomorrow. You’re still coming to James’ graduation, right?”

“I… I’m not sure anymore.”

“You should,” Melissa assured. “You may need our help. His help,” she amended, perhaps realizing that she was (again) not making the best impression.

She pulled open the lower drawer, where I had organized a number of her mystical trinkets, and pulled out a small pendant. “We can offer a reduced rate too, since you’re a friend of the family. Or, hm, possibly we even do this one gratis,” she amended, seeing the incredulous looks that my parents were now giving her. “As a show of good faith.”

Melissa walked back over to Amy, and held the pendant out.

Amy turned to look at me, the expression on her face implying she wanted some guidance as to whether Melissa had just lost it. Or perhaps she was buying into the supernatural aspect, and was concerned that this pendant might not change colour, but rather come alive and throttle her in her sleep?

“It’s fine,” I assured my former schoolmate. Even though I had no idea what that particular pendant was for, I trusted Melissa. “Treat it like another aspect of those things in life we’re not generally aware of.”

Amy nodded slowly, finally taking hold of the pendant. She looked at it closely before slipping it around her neck.

“If you’re quite through with your supernatural theatrics, Melissa, we’ll be on our way,” my mother said, trying and failing to to keep irritation out of her tone. She looked towards me. “See you tomorrow, okay dear?”

“Yeah. For sure,” I agreed.

I ushered our guests to the door, standing there until they were out of sight a few floors down. I then closed the door and leaned back against it, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. “Oh God, could that have gone worse?” I said, mostly to myself.

“Well, sure,” Melissa remarked. “After all, I didn’t actually mention to your parents that we’d been having sex. I kind of wonder about whether your mother was guessing, or trying to catch me off guard.”

This time I did facepalm. “Melissa, Mel, sweetness, please, don’t make me think about sex with you right now. I’m feeling rather emotionally mixed up at the moment.”

“Angry with me?” she asked.

“Yes. No. I’m not sure,” I said, pulling my palm away from my face and looking towards my… roommate? Co-worker? Lover? All of the above. Damnit, why did she have to be so infuriatingly amazing?

Melissa met my gaze. “You know, you can run off with Amy if you like,” she offered. “The day things escalated between us, we did agree no strings attached. In fact, you leaving with your degree was always one of the possible outcomes I’d considered for the end of the month.”

My mouth opened and closed for a moment as I tried to find the words. “H-How can you just stand there and say that?”

My roommate (because using “lover” in this narrative feels wrong) merely shrugged. “I could say it from the other side of my desk, but I might have to say it a little louder to be heard.”

“You know what I mean. You’re acting so… so… calm and rational!”

It’s hard to describe the look Melissa gave me at that comment. It basically conveyed the fact that I’d just said the most obvious, and by extension, stupidest thing ever. Her words, at least, were an attempt to be comforting.

“James, you’ve known me for four years now. Calm and rational is how I operate. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m going to have to adjust to your absence the same way I adjusted to your presence. But whether you decide to stay or not, life goes on. Supernatural balance must be maintained.”

I threw my arms out to the sides. “Then our whole relationship, it’s meant nothing to you?”

Melissa pursed her lips. “Is that what you’re getting from this? If it is, it’s not what I meant. What I mean is, I care too much for you to keep you here against your will.” She gestured back at her office area. “This is where I belong. It comes first. I’d love to continue to share it - and my bed - with you, but let’s face it, my life is not your life.”

She sounded so sincere. It was tough to stay angry with her. Which kind of made me angry. Though at this point I was just directing my anger at the world. “Well, it’s not like I can just go back to how I was living my life before, not after everything you and your agency have shown me,” I complained.

“You say that merely because you haven’t tried,” Melissa suggested. “Perhaps you should take a vacation away from all this. Spend some time with Amy. Who, admittedly, might be the unwitting victim of a Somnibulus demon, but if we get past that, she seems nice and normal. Maybe normal is something you need.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’ll just go do that then,” I shot back at Melissa. Was I was trying to make a veiled threat? If so, it was a poor threat, given that I was simultaneously agreeing with her.

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 1b: OF WITCHES AND DEMONS

You should know that the first thing that strikes most people about Melissa is her height. She clocks in at only about five foot one, yet at the same time she manages to have quite a commanding presence when she chooses. Of particular note, her eyes are a piercing green, while her hair is a long, wavy, chestnut brown that nearly reaches her waist.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Without getting too detailed, while she’s not exactly someone who could make it as a model (outside of jeans, maybe… she can fill a pair nicely), by the standards of modern society these days, her appearance can turn heads. Many would even classify her as beautiful. She doesn’t try to play that up though, if anything doing the opposite, tending to go without makeup, and wearing slightly oversized shirts.

I stood up, preparing to do introductions. “Hi Melissa! My parents you already know, and this is…”

“Your mother’s replacement for me?” my roommate interrupted, closing the closet door before sizing Amy up more closely.

“Uh, Amy Lamkins,” I finished. “Friend of the family.”

“H-Hi,” Amy said, also rising, much more tentatively. She seemed unsure as to whether to extend a hand to shake or not.

“Old high school friend, in fact,” Melissa deduced. “Here with your parents, so no doubt also coming to your graduation tomorrow, and looking a bit out of place in those conservative clothes, but trying to make a good impression.”

There’s a reason Melissa can make a living as an investigator. She shifted her attention to my mother. “I suppose you could have picked a worse companion for your son. Were they also prom dates four years ago?”

“Melissa!” I yelped. For the record, Amy and I had, in fact, gone to high school prom together. But I didn’t see how that was relevant.

Melissa turned to look at me at my exclamation. “What?” she said, her tone very matter-of-fact. “You didn’t realize? Surely you saw something like this coming, James. Your parents have never really approved of our association.”

“Well…” Sometimes I hate it when Melissa’s right. Still, did we need to discuss this with my parents in the room? “Let’s at least keep things professional,” I said. “Amy’s here only because she has a job prospect.”

I heard my dad sigh.

“Oh, she’s here for more than that,” Melissa said, gesturing with one arm. “That’s why your dad is staring at the floor while Amy is looking sidelong at your mother and starting to blush.”

“Oh… oh, th-this was a bad idea,” Amy said, starting to stammer. “I didn’t mean… that is… okay, I need some air.” She quickly moved to push past Melissa and get to the door, calling back over her shoulder, “I’ll just be out front, it’s fine!”

My mother stood as Amy left, glowering at Melissa. The brunette witch was completely unfazed by this, and despite having to look up to see Helen in the eyes, seemed to have claimed the position of power in the room. It’s a skill that comes in handy with clients.

My mother, however, was not our client.

“Melissa Virga, I don’t know how you were raised, but by my standards that was incredibly rude and insensitive,” Helen snapped.

“I was cutting to the chase,” Melissa shot back. “Insensitive is needlessly playing with someone’s emotions, as you were with Amy’s.”

“Whoa! Wait,” I said, sometimes slow to catch on. Yes, I’d just been blindsided by the romantic angle. “You mean Amy has more than a professional interest here?”

My mother pressed two fingers to a temple. “See, this, this is exactly why you need to make more friends outside of your agency work, James. People in the real world, they’re not like Melissa. Some even have interests that extend beyond their jobs.”

Melissa sniffed. “Please. You speak as if I don’t find your son attractive. I do, and we’ve made out on several occasions.”

My mother’s eyes went wide, and there was a moment of silence. A moment during which I kind of wished invisibility cloaks were a real thing.

Melissa turned to look at me then. “I just gave them too much information, didn’t I,” she said, having the decency to sound a bit troubled for the first time in the conversation.

“I always thought this detective nonsense wasn’t strictly professional,” my father remarked, crossing his arms where he still sat on the couch.

“Okay, my God, time out!” I called out at this point, tapping my hands together desperately in the T-formation.

Exactly where was I supposed to start fixing this mess?

“Firstly, the nature of my relationship with Melissa is nobody’s business but ours. Okay? Secondly, Melissa, we’ve talked about tact? This is one of those times! And thirdly… thirdly, I think I need some air too, so I’m going to go and check on Amy. Can I trust you all not to kill each other for five minutes while I do that??”

My parents and Melissa exchanged glances. Melissa cleared her throat. “Thanks for visiting. Can I get anyone a drink, or just a glass of water?”

It sounded so rehearsed that I nearly facepalmed, though my dad stepped in again with, “A glass of water and a five minute mental break sounds like a solid plan.”

“I’ll be out of the kitchen in five minutes then,” Melissa concluded, heading for the adjacent room. She glanced back over her shoulder at me. “Oh, though speaking of parents, James, remind me that we need to talk along those lines at some point this weekend.”

“Yeeeeah,” I said slowly, watching as my mother sat herself back down on the couch. Her expression was becoming difficult to read.

It didn’t seem like anything was going to immediately explode here though, and truth be told, I was a little worried about the speed of Amy’s departure. So I headed out to look for her.

She had gone down as far as the fourth floor landing, where she was sitting on the stairs. She turned her head as she saw me approach, and smiled a wan, rather sad smile. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “The idea of me and you seeing each other again… that all went so differently in my head.”

“Yeah, well, Melissa’s a bit of an unpredictable wild card," I offered. “She’s nice though. Really. Just very… focused.” I sat down next to Amy.

“I’m sure,” Amy affirmed. She leaned back on her palms, arcing her back slightly as she stared upwards. “So, have you ever thought back to those days? When we went to prom together? Or is it just me?”

“Truthfully? I haven’t thought about it,” I admitted, figuring it was best to be honest. (Granted, it could also be that some of Melissa’s attitude has rubbed off on me.) “I mean, for the prom, it was a matter of neither of us had dates, we were both in the band, and we wanted to fit in with the rest of the crowd. At least, that’s how I remember it.”

“Huh. I suppose that’s true,” Amy yielded. “And at the time, I admit I was more focused on simply being there, rather than on who I was with. But you were really nice, James – something I took for granted then, but have been forced to consider more and more now that I’m an minor internet celebrity.” She paused. “There’s a lot of weirdoes out there. Like, a LOT.”

“People who like you more for your internet persona than who you really are?” I guessed.

“That’s part of it,” she said, nodding. “So, I don’t know, maybe I’m looking for a return to the simpler days. Maybe I’m looking for something to help keep me grounded in the reality of the present. Or… maybe I’m looking to start a new chapter in my life, and feel like you could be a part of it.” She straightened her back again and turned to look at me. “Does any of that make sense?”

“Sort of,” I said. I mean, it didn’t make much sense to me personally, but I could empathize with the aspect of past, present and future colliding at a moment in time. “Thing is, I’ve changed. I’m not like I was back in high school.”

Amy grinned. “Could it be you’re less naïve?” she suggested.

I coughed. “That’s part of it,” I said, borrowing her phrase. “I hope. But more than that, I’ve come to realize there’s a lot of things in life that we’re… not generally aware of.”

“Related to that illuminati symbol on your apartment door?”

“Yeah. You know about that sort of thing?”

Amy shook her head. “Nope. Your dad said it was some new interest of yours, that’s all I know.”

I nodded. “Well, here, let me show you.” I fumbled in my pocket for my wallet, pulling out a small square of cardboard. “What colour is this?”

My old school friend shrugged. “Green.”

I nodded, then closed my hand around it. I concentrated, trying to remember the exact process that Melissa had taught to me, probably mumbling under my breath as I did so. I reopened my hand. “Now?”

“It’s yellow!” Amy said in shock. She then smirked and reached out, snatching it from my hand. “Dope, it’s green on one side and yellow on the…” Her voice trailed off as she flipped the card back and forth. “It’s… green on both sides. Wait, what? I thought it was…”

“Simple illusion,” I explained. “Which you disrupted by grabbing it from me. I don’t have Melissa’s control.”

“So you… made it appear yellow?” she said slowly, dubiously.

“Pretty much. Has to do with distorting the reflected light before you can perceive it. I don’t know all the details, science and magick are at odds with each other almost as much as they complement themselves.”

“Magic,” Amy repeated, obviously still unsure.

I took the card back and replaced it in my wallet. “Magick, hard ‘c’,” I corrected. “And you look about the same as I did four years ago. But being with Melissa forces one to come to terms with this sort of thing.”

She stared at me for a long moment. “Is being with Melissa something you’ve come to terms with then?” she asked at last.

I blinked back. “What?”

“Like, is she the one then?” Amy pressed. “Do you and her have magical adventures planned after your graduation? Because I’ll back right off, if that’s the case. I’m starting to realize I got a really distorted view of your life situation from your parents.”

“Ah. Well, uh…”

Again, there it was. What was I doing with my life, both professionally and personally? I mean, there was obviously something between Melissa and I, but what was it? Was it a professional relationship that had taken a few steps too far over the edge? Was it a whirlwind university romance, supplemented by a common interest in helping others, that ultimately couldn’t stand up to the test of time?

Or was there something more to it?

A Virga Mystery: BALANCING ACT

ACT 1a: OF WITCHES AND DEMONS

Namely breaking into an apartment on our behalf.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

In retrospect, I think that’s when it finally dawned on me that Melissa Virga was, in fact, the woman I wanted in my life. Honestly, I’m not sure how I’d missed it before. Alas, I had no idea that Melissa would then be taken away from me before the end of the summer.

But you probably need more context, don’t you? Even if, by chance, you are someone who has read the previous three cases with Melissa that I chronicled, I bet you are more than a bit confused.

I’ll back up.

My name, for the purposes of this story, will be James Conway. Some of you may recall that it’s not my real name, merely the name I chose when I first started writing about Melissa’s cases. Again, that’s also a name I picked for her, though her last name of ‘Virga’ is genuine. Don’t mispronounce it, it comes from the latin. Now, since we started there, I figure we might as well keep using these names, right?

At the time of those early cases, as a university freshman, I was using them to try and ensure anonymity. Now, well, maybe the last name is all you’d need to find “Melissa”. Even ignoring her recent status in the magic community, technology has advanced in leaps and bounds, just the four years I spent working on my degree. For all I know, someone’s created a wiki page about her on the dark web.

Heck, it’s hard to believe that we’re now at the point where shutting down the entire world’s electronic infrastructure required the use of witches and wizards spanning the entire globe. Not merely to accomplish it, of course, but also to make it seem like a natural… but there I go, rushing ahead again.

How about we begin somewhere normal, namely with my university graduation.

I had spent my entire time at university living with Melissa Virga, in apartment 66 of some off-campus housing that I took sight unseen. (If you haven’t read the prior case material, know that I was kind of a naïve guy from out of town, who didn’t question why it might still be available in late August.) Melissa ran a supernatural detective agency out of the apartment.

Ultimately, I helped her do this.

Melissa continued her case work even after obtaining a philosophy degree from the university herself. In fact, I probably helped Melissa with her career work unrelated to the supernatural too, since she was a bit of a technophobe… and assuming people will just “find you”? It might serve a student acting as a private detective who doubles as a witch, but it is less helpful when you’re hoping to be paid as a creative consultant.

So really, the question became, when I graduated, would I still stick around and continue to help out said self-proclaimed witch, Melissa “Weird Gal” Virga? Or would I set off and try to make something of my english degree, with a focus on journalism?

It may come as no surprise that my parents were leaning more towards the latter. They had met Melissa, you see. Met her after my first couple of semesters away, during that first summer, when I elected to stick around and help with cases from May through August. I’d managed to prevent all but the briefest encounters prior to that point.

Upon her first official meeting with my parents, she aimed for a good first impression by offering them a casserole of blue cheese and hot peppers. My dad immediately wondered if I’d gotten Melissa pregnant and given her strange cravings. (For the record, no, she came by those naturally.)

Melissa proceeded to talk down to them, and… well, look, as they say, “show, don’t tell”. I’ll jump in with my graduation tale now, lest you get bored from too much exposition. You’ll see Melissa in action shortly. Simply picture her with less blunted edges for earlier encounters.

Though if you want - or need - a teaser for how Melissa can be, do feel free to look up my prior trilogy of cases for extra context. I’m sure they’re floating around on the internet somewhere. Then, when you’re ready, read on.

Picture it. It’s the end of April, and my parents come into town again to watch me walk across the stage. Except they’re in town a day in advance, with a surprise. When I answer the door on Friday evening, there’s Jim Conway, my dad, Helen Conway, my mom… and Amy “Lampana” Lamkins.

You may have heard of Amy, she reviews lamps and other such illuminating devices on the internet. Or more likely you haven’t heard of her, because I’m still somewhat altering the names of people in this story (including those of my parents), along with other minor details. But suffice to say, Amy has a rather niche market of internet fans, and I knew her before she became famous(?), having gone to high school with her.

I’d better describe her here too, for those who need a visual. Asian descent, short dark hair (though she varies that up during her reviews by wearing wigs), maybe five foot five (so just a couple inches shorter than me), brown eyes, and a somewhat reserved personality (at least in person). On this occasion, conservatively dressed in a blouse and skirt. Not exactly the sort of person I expected to be hanging out with my parents, who probably don’t even subscribe to UTube, so colour me a bit nonplussed as I invited them all in.

By the way, no, I won’t be describing myself (or my parents) in detail. Picture me however you like, I’m not going to do that cliche “checking myself out in the mirror” thing.

My mother sighed as she entered. “Love what you haven’t done with the place,” she said with a resigned tone.

I’m not sure what she was expecting. We’ve got a large open area which doubles as Melissa’s office and our sitting room, off of which there is a kitchen, bathroom, and mine and Melissa’s bedrooms. (My room used to be the dining room.) We don’t have dead monkey paws sitting around, or obvious mystical symbols inscribed on the walls.

I mean, I suppose there’s the eye in the triangle on the main door, so people with an interest in the supernatural can find us. But trust me, the interior was hardly as bad as it had been before I developed a filing system for Melissa.

I gestured towards the couch for my parents, our only comfortable chair for Amy, and went to grab one of the standard folding seats in front of Melissa’s desk for me. “Well, it’s great to have you all here,” I said. “Can I get anyone a drink, or just a glass of water?”

“I’m fine,” my mother assured me. “Amy?”

“Uh, I’m good,” she said. “Thanks though.”

My dad just shook his head and sat quietly, folding his arms and regarding the situation as it unfolded. He doesn’t generally say a lot, but he usually doesn’t have to in order to get his points across. In this case, I got the impression that whatever was going on was my mom’s idea.

Anyway, I simply sat down in the chair I’d pulled over, wondering what to say next. Fortunately, Amy spoke up, vocalizing exactly what was on my mind, namely, “I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here, James.”

“Little bit,” I admitted.

She smiled quietly. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve kept up, but I run a little review site online. We’re planning on expanding, and starting a newsletter. So, someone with your skills would be useful, not only for stuff like proofreading, but also doing research and the like. Of course,” she added quickly, “it wouldn’t really pay much, so if you have other prospects, I understand. But they always say it’s important to keep gaining experience and contacts when you’re looking for other work.”

“Oh! Well, yeah, and I’ve nothing really on the radar at this point,” I admitted. “So sure, email me the details, and I’ll think it over.” I’m sure my brow furrowed a little. “You didn’t have to come out here and make me this offer in person though.”

Amy shrugged. “I was back in our hometown, I ended up chatting with your parents when they came to visit my parents, and I didn’t have anything else going on this weekend. So I thought, what the heck.”

“Being here is also a chance for Amy to talk to the editor of one of your university publications,” my dad put in. “Apparently they’d met in an online forum, and he has some items she could use. So it wasn’t just about seeing you again.”

“But dear, do notice how that means Amy has connections,” my mother added. “Maybe she can help give you some direction for the job market. You can’t spend the rest of your life working here on those supernatural oddities, right?”

Ah, so there it was. The fact that Amy was sitting a little uncomfortably also implied to me that her interest in my writing was genuine, and as such she wasn’t in on my parents trying to leverage me away from Melissa’s supernatural agency. I wondered if Amy even knew about the supernatural. It seemed unlikely, as my parents themselves only had a vague idea of the work Melissa and I did.

At the same time though, I had been asking myself exactly where my life was going to go after my degree. And I had been putting off thinking about it. Meaning I was simultaneously annoyed by my parents’ meddling, and yet appreciative that they were looking out for me at a time when I wasn’t really doing it for myself.

So, how to respond?

“I’m weighing my options,” was my answer. “Let me see what Amy’s looking for first. Either way, I’d rather not decide anything until after I have the all important graduation paper in my hand tomorrow.”

“Of course,” my dad said, before either of the others could speak. “So how exactly will the ceremony go then, and more importantly, how long is it and how comfortable are the chairs we’ll have to sit in?”

Talk then moved to the mechanics of graduation and other trivialities, and the whole encounter wouldn’t necessarily have been worth remembering, if it weren’t for the fact that Melissa came home about twenty minutes later.

A VIRGA MYSTERY Borderline: Case 3d

This had about as much dramatic impact as you might think - namely none - until she made a few gestures and heaved it in Melody’s direction.

(‘And I think she knew, just before it happened,’ Melissa explained to me later. ‘Of course, I’m not entirely sure how it played out, since I was immediately busy trying to pull you out of harm’s way.’ As such, I will now try to piece together what happened in a way that provides optimal dramatic effect.)

As the d10 came within a meter or so of the blonde witch, a form coalesced around it. “G-Gary?” Eric said in shock, recognizing the spectre even as it slammed into the one who had siphoned it’s spiritual power a short time ago. They both tumbled to the floor.

Eric spun back to look at Melissa, though she was now busy spilling a circle of salt onto the carpet. Always have some salt with you if you go away on a trip, by the way. Because you never know when you might need to conjure yourself back home.

“That was the die you asked for,” Eric said. “The one Gary leant me when we first started roleplaying… how could it have created…?”

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Melissa didn’t answer, clapping her hands and muttering a spell she later would not give me word for word. She says it’s not terribly useful anyway, as just like any proper spell it requires consent… where one of the key reasons it worked was because I hadn’t really consented to the original teleport (merely mistimed a wishful thought), and subsequently would rather have been anywhere than upside down, with a flame burning through the rope that was keeping me from getting impaled, as monks chanted around me.

When Melissa stepped back out of the circle she had made, I appeared there in her place - disconcertingly still in the same position, and held up by the rope, but at least without the candle above or the nails dangling a short distance from my head.

I remember one of the first things I could focus on was Melody (inverted) as she grappled with Gary’s spirit. She’d managed to stand back up, but not do much more than that. Granted, the fight - if you can call it that - mostly consisted of Gary holding Melody’s arms, to prevent her from casting easily, while trying to throw off her centre of balance, so that she couldn’t do anything else.

That couldn’t last. But it didn’t have to. Melissa, still visibly shaking with the effort of what she had already done, was preparing one last counterattack. Pulling a paper from her pocket and scribbling on it, she then pressed it to her forehead while looking at Melody and intoned, “Lapsus memoriae!”

“Ultima ratio!”

Melody had pulled her arms free. Their two spells happened virtually simultaneously.

At this point, no one is sure how much - if any - of Melissa’s ‘Memory Lapse’ worked, but Melody’s ‘Last Resort’ obviously did, as she simply vanished. My witch roommate then proceeded to crumple down onto the ground, saved from landing on her face only by the actions of Eric. I wasn’t quite so lucky, as the frayed rope finally gave out, dumping me down onto the floor.

I took a moment to take some deep breaths, and attempted to process what had taken place in the last two minutes. “Right,” I concluded, understandably upset, and shifting to a slightly more upright position as I contemplated swearing. “Could someone PLEASE tell me what the HECK just…”

I stopped.

Melissa was crying.

She always acted so in control that I hadn’t ever conceived of that happening.

Her sobs were loud, and she curled up and buried her face into her own lap, turning away from Eric, who now sat next to her looking confused, angry, and as lost as I was. I looked at him, he looked at me, then his gaze shifted towards the spectral form of Gary, which was approaching, yet already fading, growing more transparent by the second. As Eric rose to meet the spectre, I instinctively moved towards my roommate, wanting to comfort her, but lacking context, having no idea how.

“I don’t understand,” Eric said. “Are you really Gary??”

“I … take some form around Melody … had my spiritual energy,” the spectral Gary said, sounding like he was at the bottom of a well. “Your friend Melissa knew … with my magick interest as well, an item … obviously couldn’t discuss … had to be done.”

“But this means that all this time, Melody and Melissa had the power to summon you?!”

Gary shook his head, even as Melissa grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and, among the choked sobs, wailed, “Gary’s tainted, I’ve tainted him, his spirit, his memory… oh Gods, I was only going to make a point, not actually call him forth, but when she forced my hand…”

“Hey, hey … not too tainted and … choice also,” Gary said, looking continuously more etherial now that Melody had vanished to wherever. He smiled(?) down at Melissa, not that she was looking up, or that his expression was clear. “… could have ignored your summons, but this … couldn’t be … to continue. You … the right thing.”

Melissa simply shook her head, her body pitching back and forth in her curled up position on the floor. As I reached her, I realized that there was a slight sheen of perspiration on her body, as if she had a fever, but when I moved my head to her forehead - and she flinched away - I didn’t feel any excess warmth. It was, it turned out, related to casting the fairly powerful spells.

I know Melissa didn’t cast again for at least twenty four hours following these events.

“This is it then,” Eric realized, slumping. “I’ve lost both Gary and Melody.”

Gary seemed to grimace. “Melody … not so good for you. I … better that you move on … better place … myself. Goodbye, friend.” His form was just a shadow by now.

Eric reached out slightly towards Gary, only to have his spectre vanish.

Eric turned to me. “Can you look after Melissa?” he asked. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t… I can’t deal with any of this right now.”

I acknowledged with a slight nod, and Melissa’s ex made a run out the door. I reached my hand out to touch Melissa’s shoulder. She didn’t flinch away this time, so I instinctively pulled her into an embrace. I ended up hugging her tightly. She didn’t stop crying for quite a while after we were left alone.

-

We returned to our university town by mundane means. I didn’t actually get the backstory until three days later.

Which isn’t to say that there weren’t a couple opportunities, mostly early in the morning. But I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, and Melissa didn’t say anything either. I began to worry that we might not speak of it at all, despite the explanation I figured I was owed for my part in it. But just when I had decided to address the matter the next morning no matter what, Melissa surprised me, arriving home just as I was about to change for bed, brandishing a pizza box and an apology.

“I’m sorry I got you involved with Melody, and I’m sorry, SO sorry for breaking down on you in her home,” she stated, lowering her gaze to the floor as she held out out the box like a peace offering. “It won’t happen again.”

“Oh, well… thanks,” was all I could think to say at first, both accepting the take-out box and the apology. “Though, it’s allowed to happen again,” I added. “Like, not the thing with the monks, but any time you need a shoulder, I’m here. You know that, right? In fact you’ve probably noticed that I… kind of care about you, Melissa.”

Melissa looked back up. “Because you think I have a nice ass,” she stated.

I felt my cheeks get warm. “It’s more than that,” I insisted.

Melissa seemed to pick up on my sincerity. She grimaced. “Right. Okay. Sorry again.”

To avoid looking at her, I peeked inside the pizza box. Rather nervously, knowing Melissa’s food preferences.

“I didn’t have them put peaches and broccoli on this one,” she reassured.

“Uh, right.” It seemed to be Canadian; perhaps she’d actually noticed that was my preference sometime during the previous weeks? I decided to ignore the fact that I’d had dinner about three hours ago and offered to get us some plates.

Melissa followed me to the kitchen doorway. “Did you want to hear the full story then?” she continued. “For one of your chronicles? Or do you think it’s better for us to forget all about it?”

I hesitated at that, because despite my earlier decision to confront her in the morning, I was now thinking of Melissa crying in my arms, an event which had shaken me more than I care to admit. “I… only if you’re willing to tell it.”

She nodded and gestured me over to the couch, before going and sitting in it herself. What followed was most of the story to this point, narrated with almost clinical detachment, though when it came to the part about summoning Gary, her body tensed and (unless it was my imagination), she spoke with a bit of a lump in her throat.

It was following those events, once Melissa had managed an emotional recovery in Melody’s residence, that she had immediately arranged for my transportation back to the university. Alone. She elected to stay the night. I naturally offered to stay too, but she was pretty insistent - plus I had a paper due for a class on creative writing. (Got a B, if you care.)

“So, did you hook up with Eric again during that last day?” I asked, declining the offer of a fourth slice of pizza.

“Good deduction,” Melissa said, also setting aside her plate.

She lifted her legs onto the couch, wrapping her arms around them. It was a position much like the one she’d had that day, except this time she was more composed. So it just looked remarkably cute. Particularly when she rested her cheek on her knees and some hair spilled out to the side.

“I thought he might not want to see me again,” Melissa admitted. “And I couldn’t have blamed him. But he let me in when I came to return the d10.”

-

“I want to hate you, Mel,” Eric said quietly, partly turned away and unable to meet her gaze. “But I can’t. You were just being you.” His fists clenched and unclenched. “If anything, I hate myself more, for pushing the point.”

“Oh, Eric, no,” Melissa protested. “You were just being… you. I mean, if I’d made more of an effort to understand you all those years ago, I might have realized…”

His eyes snapped to her. “Stop it. Just stop, Mel. What’s done is done, now I’ve got to live with it. Gary’s gone, his spirit is probably twisted, I have no spiritual advisor, and I’ll be stuck siphoning energy away from the recently deceased in that nursing home for the rest of my days.”

“That’s hyperbole.”

“Stop talking latin at me!”

“No, I meant…” Melissa waved her hand dismissively. “Never mind. Look, it’s not as bad as you say. Gary seemed glad to help you one last time, which can redeem him, and while you might not have Melody any more, I can help. With stopping the siphoning, at least. See, it’s your inability to allow people to pass on which makes you susceptible to such spiritual manipulation. That’s a trait which could be corrected.”

“Corrected? Mel, this is not a problem with my eyesight,” he protested, throwing his arms out. “The way I feel… I mean, it’s your lack of understanding these feelings I have which led me to Melody in the first place!”

Melissa winced. “Okay. So maybe reality is somewhere in the middle of us. What I meant though was I can tell you how to close off the energy flow, and Melody’s imprinting of her scent should still ensure that no one else tries to take advantage of you.”

“Imprinting…” Eric briefly lifted the collar of his shirt to sniff it. (Melissa’s fairly sure he wouldn’t have sensed the cinnamon.) “Is it possible she’ll come back for me? For good or ill?”

The young witch pursed her lips. “Hard to say. It was your name I scribbled on the paper when I cast my memory lapse spell, but I don’t know if it took, or if it did, to what degree.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, it’s only occurring to me now that you two might have had more than a professional relationship. If I’ve screwed up your personal life here too, I’m real…”

“Oh, hey, what? Melody was twice my age!”

“Probably more than that. The magick she bled off helped her look youthful.”

“Okay, whatever… I wasn’t lying when I said we weren’t dating.”

“Okay. Good.”

An awkward silence fell. “Is that your way of asking if I’m available?” Eric finally asked.

Melissa blinked. “What? No.”

“Good, because I don’t think things would work out for us like that. Not any more.”

“Of course not.”

“James seems more your type any way. Good for you.”

“Right, he… whoa, whoa! I’m not seeing him either.” (She seemed to be blushing a bit relating this part to me, so maybe she was also a touch red at the time she said it to Eric. For all I know, I blushed upon hearing it.)

Eric chuckled. “Didn’t seem like it, but I couldn’t resist. Anyway…” He sighed. “Let’s close off my energy flow or whatever. Then you should go. I’ll call if I screw my life up again.” He smiled wryly. “Now that I’m pretty sure you’ll answer the phone, that is.”

Melissa nodded, started to turn away, then thought better of it.

“No,” she said, discovering that this time she couldn’t quite meet his gaze. She settled for a point over his shoulder. “You shouldn’t call. Something this case has shown me is that I’m more than capable of screwing up on an epic scale. Despite me trying to stay emotionally unattached, I lashed out at Melody for what she was doing. And while I maintain that her actions weren’t necessarily right… in the end, she did try to protect you, and she didn’t cause death, when she could have. I was the one who called forth a spirit. I crossed the borderline. Not her. Me. I’m the one who was in the wrong.”

Eric stared. “Melissa…”

She waved him off, drew in a long breath and continued. “Meaning you didn’t make a bad choice back then, after… after Cam. Also, you’re pretty good at fending for yourself. One personality hangup about death doesn’t change that. Thus you shouldn’t necessarily turn to me. Particularly since our history could complicate things again.”

Eric chuckled softly. “Not gonna get rid of me that easily. But I see your point.” He reached back out to pick up the d10 from the end table. “Don’t sell yourself short though,” he added. “I’m the one who dragged you in, you were only trying to help me, and the fact that you think you’re in the wrong here says a lot too.” He ran his palm back over his scalp. “But damn, girl, you need to communicate better, okay? In fact, how about if you agree to do that, I’ll see what I can do about accepting death.”

Melissa opened her mouth to reply, then simply nodded.

When she left Eric’s residence, she didn’t look back.

-

Melissa fidgeted a bit with her fingers before breaking her pose and releasing her legs. “So that’s the gist of it. Need anything else for your story?”

I rubbed my chin. “You really think Melody was in the right then? After suspending me over a bunch of spikes?”

My roommate shrugged. “Not entirely, obviously, but it’s hard to know her motives. She might not have let anything happen to you, James. She certainly seemed to have more ethics than me.”

“Don’t say that,” I objected. She opened her mouth to object, but I raised a finger to hold her off. “After all, you only made one rash decision in the heat of the moment. She spent YEARS with this siphoning - and who’s to say she didn’t damage a few spirits, accidentally or otherwise, on the way? Hmmm?”

Melissa squirmed a bit on the couch. “Maybe. I just feel so dirty now. Like I need a really long bath.” Before I could even think of a response to that, on account of the inappropriate images that flashed into my mind, she raised her gaze to look me in the eye.

“But more than that, I think I need your help, James. With my cases. With the human element, not to mention the technological one. Looking back, there’s at least three incidents I was involved with in the past month alone which I’m sure would have gone more smoothly if I’d consulted you on them. I… I know that this is not part of our original agreement, but can I take you on, as a partner? A sort of Watson to my Holmes?”

I blinked. So here it was, an opening into her life… one that those less naive than I surely saw coming, and one I might have been a bit more keen on before these prior two cases showed me the dangers of associating with a witch. Not to mention how it would unavoidably link me with ‘Weird Gal’ from this point forward.

(Incidentally, our situation wouldn’t even fit with her Holmes analogy, because I don’t think Watson ever admired the way Holmes looked in a shiny green nightgown. Or if he did, I’m glad we never heard about it.)

“If it helps,” Melissa continued, sensing the hesitation, “this more formal association would, in fact, attune me more to you, thus you’ll end up in less in danger than before. Probably. I’ll even scrap the chicken clause in our contract… so how about it? I mean, it’s… it’s not like we’d be dating, you know.”

“Oh, well, of course not,” I said quickly. Probably too quickly.

She briefly sucked her lower lip into her mouth. “So?”

“So… we can try it out at least, sure,” I found myself saying. Hey, it’s not like my parties with Adam had been about to lead me anywhere else. Anyway, I think I was finally realizing that both of us were naive, in different ways. Somehow, we complimented each other.

“Great!” she said brightly, and almost before I realized it, she’d leaned in to kiss my cheek.

I gasped. She turned away, either being dismissive of her act, or having been flustered by it - it was impossible to tell now that I could no longer see her expression. She stood up. “So, to make it official, I think I’ve got some Chicken Nut Brownies left in the fridge that could do for a dessert,” she finished. Her ass wiggled (accidentally?) as she headed into the kitchen.

Surprisingly, the chicken brownies weren’t half bad.

-

The epilogue here is once again brief, unless you’re counting the prior section to be part of it. Eric and Melissa have spoken on the phone at least once this month. So I know that Melody’s home is on the market, with all her belongings having been cleared out, no forwarding address.

I have also discovered a few things in offering to look over Melissa’s prior cases, to better understand her agency. The first being our wall clock, buried on the desk under all her papers. It needs batteries. (She really needs a better filing system.)

Second, I’ve found that the human nature aspect, which I’ll be helping Melissa handle, is liable to be helpful in my quest to become a better journalist. Admittedly, a good chunk of what I get is human reactions to supernatural forces, hardly mainstream, but it’s a start. (And yes, I’ve asked Melissa if my involvement means I’ll end up “imprinted”, and what scent I’ll give off to other witches. She manages to be charmingly enigmatic about it, so I don’t push the point.)

Finally, the bitter irony is, now that I am becoming involved more closely, I won’t be able to write about Melissa anymore. Partly owing to how I’m losing what little impartiality I previously had, but more than that, I’m rapidly sensing that the act of being involved in the cases is going to leave me with no time to write about them. Not if I want to pass first year classes too. It’s taken me a month just to finish up this account.

So, let me take the opportunity to thank you for reading to this point, and allow me to leave you with this final literary quote, which seems rather fitting given the nature of this third (and last?) chronicled case. There is something to be said for trilogies, is there not?

“Here is a test to find whether your mission on earth is finished: If you’re alive, it isn’t." -Richard Bach.

END REQUIESCAT IN PACE

A VIRGA MYSTERY Borderline: Case 3c

“Every case is different,” the brunette murmured in reply, not looking up, but rather scanning up and down the street. The area was mostly residential, but Melissa spotted a few commercial shops encroaching from the west.

“Gary lived on the 9th floor,” Eric offered. “I still have a key if–”

“I don’t need to see the apartment,” Melissa cut in. “We’re really only confirming my suspicions at this point, the case is solved… I figure we go this way,” she concluded, and began walking towards the shops.

“Oh, uh… hey, you want to let me in on what happened?”

“If you haven’t already figured it out, you will soon enough,” was Melissa’s reply. (In a way, it’s nice to know that she doesn’t only pull that enigmatic routine with me.)

They got almost three blocks before discovering the carpet store. Melissa marched right in. “Ah, you’re wondering if they’re missing any merchandise?” Eric hypothesized as he followed after.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Melissa tried to ignore the ramblings of her old friend, instead seeking out the nearest employee. It turned out to be the person manning the main counter.

“Hi!” Melissa said, flashing the man a smile. “I want to know who bought a throw rug from you last week.”

The counter man (who, Melissa remarked to me, seemed to have a rug on his head as well) sized up both her and Eric before replying. “All sales are final. Who wants to know?”

“I do,” the brunette answered easily. “I can even describe the buyer for you if you like. He was… uh…” She turned to Eric. “Describe Gary.”

Eric blinked. “What?”

“Wait, did you want to buy a similar rug?” the salesman wondered.

Melissa sighed. “No, I’m not buying a rug. Just listen as Eric describes Gary.” She elbowed her associate.

“Oh, uh…” Eric went on to provide a basic description. It’s not really relevant, so picture Gary however you like.

“It would have been last week, late in the day,” Melissa added.

The salesman nodded slowly. “Oh, right, I remember him. In fact we still have a limited number of those throw rugs in stock, if you…”

“Wait, Gary bought a throw rug here?” Eric interjected.

“He had to have, since you said it was in his apartment,” Melissa said patiently.

“The killer made him buy the murder weapon then?” Eric gasped.

“Whoa! Killer? What do you mean?” the man at the counter asked warily. “Look, what people do with our carpets once they’ve been bought is out of our hands…”

Melissa’s selective hearing now began ignoring the store employee. “Eric, your friend was not murdered. Gary chose a bad time to buy a throw rug.”

Eric shook his head. “Mel, I know what I saw at the seance. Gary said himself that there was a killer. Unless… did the rug come alive and attack him?? Man, that’s some freaky Aladdin craziness!”

The witch palmed her forehead, and let out a long breath. “Eric. Are you at least with me as far as your friend buying the rug, or do you need to see the receipt?”

Eric paused, looking from her to the counterman, who in my mind had started edging away. “I’m with you on Gary buying the rug,” he yielded. “But he could have been coerced.”

“Fine.” Melissa turned and began to walk out of the store. “We have one quick stop to make first, then you can take me to Melody.”

Eric hurried to catch up. “Melody? You… you need to team up with her?”

Once again, Melissa chose not to respond. Eric could only grumble to himself.

(“I hope,” my roommate told me during the course of providing this backstory, “that you, at least, would have figured out Melody’s connection by now. Seeing as you don’t have Eric’s blind spot for death.” Trying to look intelligent, I told Melissa that I certainly couldn’t imagine her teaming up with this other witch. However, I suspect that at this point I’d be blaming Melody for Gary’s death - which wasn’t correct either.)

-

Melody Nedsen’s residence was rather different from mine and Melissa’s. For one, it was actually a house, and for another, it was separate from her “business”, which she ran out of a different place. However, given the time of day and Melissa’s insistence that things couldn’t wait until morning, Eric brought them there instead.

Picture, if you will, a typical two story building, with a small balcony wrapping around the second level. It had a small lawn and straight driveway, and there were two obvious entrances. One at the front, the other at the side, by the driveway. Eric brought them to this side entrance, and knocked in a distinctive rhythm.

Apparently, Melody had at least converted one room of her place to use for ‘spiritual emergencies’, and this was the way in. She answered the door herself. Which is a good time to describe her, much as I did with Eric. Bearing in mind that the only time I saw her firsthand was when I was being suspended upside down, I can offer the following.

She was beautiful. Long blonde hair, bright blue eyes and knowing smile. Perhaps in her early fifties, but could easily be mistaken for ten years younger. Taller than Melissa (though that’s not difficult), and apparently pretty sharp mentally. Given her first remark was “Eric? What… oh.” Her eyes narrowed upon spotting my brunette roommate. “I suppose it would do no good to send you away.”

“Nope,” Melissa countered.

“Uh, Melody, this is Melissa… Melissa, Melody… please try to get along?”

There was a pause, then Melody invited them in. The side entry room had some rugs on the floor and candles around on some dressers, along with what I presumed to be magickal draperies on the wall, but it was otherwise reasonably sparse.

I guess if you’re having a spiritual emergency, you don’t need a chair.

After closing the door, Melody sat down on a pillow in the middle of the central rug, gesturing at the others to do the same. Melissa did so, her posture tense. “Quanta de spe decidi,” Melissa began.

Melody ventured a smile. “Quae haec est fabula?”

“Dixi tibi. Quid in te fecit?”

A sigh. “Si id non fecissem, aliquis id fecisset. Volenti non fit iniuria…”

Melissa slammed her palm down onto the carpet. “Voluntarius?!”

“Whoa, hey, uh, ladies?” Eric interrupted. “I, um, er… re vera, linguam Latinam vix cognovi?”

The two witches turned to glance at him, and Melody half smiled. “Oh, Eric. How long have you been waiting to use that phrase?”

“Uh, not long. I tried to brush up before going to get Melissa,” he admitted. “But I meant it. I don’t really know all that much Latin. Who is volunteering for what here?”

“Voluntarius essentially means willing,” my roommate clarified, still looking at the other witch. “She’s saying you were a willing victim.”

“A… what?”

Melody sighed again. “Melissa dear, don’t be so dramatic.” She spelled things out at this point, gesturing first at Eric’s companion, then back at herself, as she reiterated the conversation. Melissa: “I am very disappointed.” Melody: “What’s that supposed to mean?” Melissa: “You know very well. What harm has he done to you?” Melody: “If I hadn’t done it, someone else would have. One who is willing suffers no injustice.”

“Eric’s not willing,” Melissa now broke back in, in English. “He doesn’t even know what you’re doing!”

“But the way Eric feels… wait. Doesn’t? As in, not even now? You haven’t explained it to him yet?”

“It’s pretty damn obvious, given how you imprinted yourself.”

Melody laughed lightly. “To you, perhaps. Not to people like him.” Again Melody looked to Eric, brushing some hair back off her shoulder. “In which case, I’ll come clean first then. Eric, I’m afraid that I have, in a very minor way, been using you.”

“Minor?! You…”

“Melissa? Shut up. Please,” Eric broke in.

The interruption brought her up short, and she looked back at Eric, as he clenched his jaw and continued.

“Obviously I’m missing something,” Eric said. “And have been for a while. But you two witches arguing is not helping me understand. So, Melody first. What do you mean by using me? Did you…” He swallowed. “Did you make me kill Gary or something?”

Melody’s eyes went wide. “Oh, God, no, nothing like that. I’ve just…” She tapped her index fingers together. “Well, for the last few years, I’ve been using you a bit like a sponge.”

Melissa snorted, her arms by now crossed back over her front, her standard angry pose. “That’s putting it mildly. Eric, Melody is amplifying her magick power by bleeding it from the dead. Through you. It must stop now.”

“It’s not like that,” Melody said, her eyes flashing as she looked back at the brunette. “Eric’s not just some conduit for me to use. Nor have I killed anyone directly with this act! All those whom I take energy from, they died of natural causes. You’re too young to understand.”

“I understand that Gary called you a killer.”

Melody’s hand was lightning quick, striking Melissa’s cheek even as the shorter witch started to raise her hand to try and block. Melissa tumbled to the side, more from shock at the speed of the act than the actual force of the blow.

“Gary was confused,” Melody said, angrily. “He didn’t understand what was happening, because I hadn’t anticipated Eric absorbing some of his friend’s spiritual energy. Interfering with my normal collection methods. It must have been owing to their close friendship, and the suddenness of Gary’s accidental death… which WAS an accident.”

“I am aware of his unfortunate death on account of the throw rug. I wasn’t blaming you directly, but it is you who has since tied his spirit here.”

“Temporarily. Since the seance with Eric, I’ve corrected the problem.”

Melissa gaped. “Corrected? You cannot be serious. This is not a problem you can correct so easily. I shudder to think of what might have happened with Cam back when you first met Eric, and started your…”

“Melissa, STOP IT!”

Melissa blinked in surprise as Eric now stood, looking down at her. His fists clenched and unclenched. The brunette righted herself back into a seating position, following her tumble due to Melody’s slap, still looking up at him. “What? Eric… don’t you get it? What she’s done?”

“Sure. I’m an energy sieve, am I? Fine, whatever. Setting that aside, Melissa, I asked you to be civil. Since it’s obvious you won’t be, and further, that Gary’s death was not, apparently, a murder, your involvement is now finished. So leave. NOW.”

Melissa swallowed. “Eric, listen. People who are associated with you who die, they’re not immediately able to pass on. They’re tied to this plane by Melody, who is bleeding spiritual energy through you - for however long she wants! She told you to volunteer your time at a retirement home for that reason.”

“I chose to volunteer my time,” Eric said. “To help people continue to live decent lives in their old age. Dammit Melissa, now who’s ‘theorizing without facts’? This is just like it was in high school. You still think you know everything, when really, you don’t have a clue. Because, guess what?”

He took in a deep breath before continuing. “You could have stopped all this. It was pure happenstance that I hooked up with Melody in a cafe, a week after Cam died. The only reason I pulled away from you then was because you were so dispassionate about the whole thing. I needed to talk to someone… if not to Cam, then to you… but you didn’t care, not the way I did! So Melody did what you wouldn’t - and I’m with her now.”

“But…” Melissa began, suddenly not sure what to say. She admitted to me after the fact that perhaps some of the conclusions she had drawn, while correct, had neglected to factor in the random human element.

“Melissa,” Melody broke in quietly. “You know as well as I do that for my siphoning to work without Eric’s direct awareness, he had to have a predisposition. In being a person who cannot accept the death of others, he can bind their spiritual energy here without conscious effort on my part. If I had not used that knowledge and imprinted upon him, someone else might have done much worse… even caused deaths, to exploit his weakness. Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t realize we were associating from the start.”

“I… I was sixteen when Cam died,” Melissa protested, deflating. “I just wanted to get on with my life. To hone my abilities.”

“So go, Melissa,” Eric said, turning away. “Get on with your life again. I’ll stop getting in touch.”

A pained look crossed Melissa’s face. “Eric…”

(‘Things were hitting too close to home,’ she told me during our later talk. ‘My plan here had been to make Eric stop trusting Melody, forcing her to break their link. But, seeing as I’d practically sent him to her, back in high school… I was at a loss. That was when I thought of you, James. Of how you might be able to handle this, using interpersonal skills or something. I realized then that perhaps I should have brought you along.’ Which made me feel good, until I realized it’s what led to my less than stellar arrival.)

Melissa took in a breath, and turned from Eric back to the older witch. “The thing is, you’re not going to stop this if I leave, are you.”

Melody slowly shook her head. “No. No, I’m not. I’m not doing anything wrong. Supernatural balance is being maintained.”

“It’s not wrong according to our rules. But it’s morally wrong. Plus, Eric knows now.”

“So he knows. There are spells that can make people forget, if necessary. Perhaps you can even accept the use of one on yourself too, if you’re that worked up about this.”

“THAT is wrong.”

Melody shrugged. “Necessitas caret lege.” (Now there’s one for you to look up.)

Melissa rose, as did Melody in tandem with her, so that the three of them were standing. “No,” Melissa whispered. “I’m not leaving Eric. I can’t. Not this time. Not again.”

Eric turned back. “Mel…!” His voice was pleading, but it was hard for her to say what it was he was hoping for.

The two witches remained staring at each other, as if sizing the other up, waiting to see who would make the first move.

Melody’s eyes narrowed. “Melissa… you leave me no choice. Semper paratus!”

-

This is when I came back into it. Of course, back at our apartment, all I knew was that my roommate had pulled a new vanishing act. Melissa hadn’t told me about leaving with Eric, and while I’d poked around briefly that evening to see if she’d left a message, there wasn’t one. (Though I did find another note advising me not to answer the phone, in the medicine cabinet of the bathroom.) Hence me doing my homework. Possibly wishing to be elsewhere. Which alas only made things easier for Melody.

Without warning, I was suspended upside down over a bed of nails, with people (monks?) chanting around me. Earlier, I said this was incredibly disorienting, yes? That bears repeating. At least I now know in retrospect that it was because Melody had pulled my identity from Melissa’s immediate thoughts, and transposed me into a position of peril. Supposedly a spell the elderly blonde witch kept on standby in her home, for use in such situations, given how she only had to say “Always prepared” to achieve that effect.

It happened so quickly that all Melissa knew was that a spell had been cast, doing something which gave her a feeling of dread in her gut related to me.

“Where is he?” Melissa gasped.

“In jeopardy. Now you must deal with that, effectively dividing your attention.”

“Giving you time to take control of the situation here, and bind my powers or steal Eric’s memory.”

“Only if I must. Understand, my dear girl, that I have been doing this for decades. There were others before Eric. I’m not going to allow you to change things.”

“Melody, what’s going on?” Eric broke back in. “Let’s just let bygones be bygones, okay? I’m sorry for bringing Melissa in. It’s my fault. Just let her leave, and stop all this jeopardy talk.”

Melody’s lips thinned. “Too late for that now.”

“Because the truth of it is,” Melissa said, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. “This IS my fault, for not doing something sooner. I’m sorry.”

She half turned to Eric, while keeping an eye on Melody. “You know, you’re right. I’m dispassionate. I compartmentalize my emotions. Even when I’m supposed to be having fun, like on a date, I still do it. And back then, since I didn’t seem to care about what was going on around me, I guess to you, it looked like I didn’t care about Cam. But caring… Eric, that’s when people get hurt. I couldn’t deal with being hurt, not as a witch, not with my power - lest I do what Melody is doing, and get innocents involved in a personal matter.”

Melody placed her hands on her hips. “My my, Melissa, how you do overdramatize. Please grow up. No one is truly innocent, and necessitas caret…”

“…lege, you said that,” Melissa finished for her. She took in a deep breath, returning full attention to the elder blonde. “I’m sorry. Both of you, I’m so, SO sorry. This is going to hurt me more than anyone else. But perhaps, after all this, I deserve to be hurt.”

Melissa reached into the pocket of her jeans.

A VIRGA MYSTERY Borderline: Case 3b

“Um, Melissa,” I began cautiously, “Next time, if you don’t want me to answer the phone, maybe you can–”

“Look, if you want to know about my history with Eric, just ask, don’t dance around the subject,” the brunette said sharply, jabbing her spoon out in my direction.

Well, naturally I was curious. But a question and answer session honestly hadn’t been my intention here, I’d mostly been hoping to avoid messing up her weekend any further. So, since I do have SOME sense of self preservation, and five minutes obviously hadn’t been enough time for her to calm down, I turned to leave.

I’d just passed through the doorway when I heard her spoon clatter back into her bowl. “I’m… sorry,” she called out. “That was rude of me.”

I turned back, a little surprised at her admission. After all, even at the best of times Melissa barely seemed to take note of the effect her remarks had on others. She set her bowl aside, brushed some hair back off her shoulder and folded her arms again. “Moreover, Eric probably would have come by here anyway, so it’s not your fault,” she stated. “It’s just… him and his attitude, they bring out the worst in me.”

I edged back into the kitchen, not sure if it would be proper to agree with that sentiment or not. I settled for, “Ex-es know how to pull our strings.”

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

She half smiled at that. “Why James, are you speaking from experience?”

“Uh…” I’ve mentioned I’m a naive guy from out of town, right? I did have a date for the prom, but that was about it. I considered bringing up the experience of Frank, from the last case I’d set to paper, but fortunately, she didn’t seem to expect me to answer the question.

“It’s not like Eric was really my boyfriend anyway,” she continued, lips tightening. “We went out on dates a couple times in high school. The relationship ended badly. Since then, I’ve made sure people are aware that my work takes priority over any sort of emotionalism.”

I decided to press my luck a bit and continue the conversation. “You mean something bad happened with Eric because you had put your work secondary?”

Melissa’s half smile returned. “You’re theorizing without the facts again.”

I believe I looked appropriately sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s kind of cute." She stared at me for a few more seconds, then reached back for her bowl again. “Anyway, relationships are just messy,” she declared. “Though for the record, the situation here was that a mutual friend of mine and Eric’s was diagnosed with a terminal illness.”

With that, she sighed and had another spoonful of jello. The fruit cubes (apples?) crunched as she bit down. I wasn’t sure how to react to her latest comment, so I said nothing in hopes that more information was forthcoming. It was.

“There was nothing I could do of course, magickly or otherwise,” Melissa continued after swallowing. “Even if it wasn’t against my principles surrounding death, keeping our friend alive would only have prolonged his suffering. However, you may have noticed that Eric has acceptance issues regarding death? He wanted to be able to communicate with our friend after he passed on. In fact, both of them seemed to be amenable to that idea.” She frowned. “I’d have thought that Cam, at the least, would have had more sense.”

I assumed correctly here that Cam was their mutual friend, and waited for Melissa to down another mouthful from her bowl. Her eyes narrowed after she swallowed.

“Of course, I think Eric may have talked him into it, and since they knew of my early dabblings in magick, they thought I could help. But of course, I strictly forbade it, and made it clear that if they tried something so idiotic, our friendship was over.” She paused. “Cam understood. But me and Eric didn’t speak after that.”

Her expression became wistful, and perhaps understandably, there was another pause at this point. Finally, I simply had to break the silence myself. “Why was their plan such a bad thing?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

Melissa’s jello bowl got tossed aside again. “Because trying to tie people to the mortal plane after their time has passed… it messes with the natural order of things.” There was anger in her tone once more, and she jabbed her spoon out at me. “Death is a natural consequence of life. Whether it’s an accident, a suicide, or simply a dramatic demonstration of man’s inhumanity to man, death is simply one of those things you have to live with.” (I’m fairly certain her pun was unintentional.)

“Furthermore,” she went on, pushing off the counter and beginning to pace, “attributing every death, no matter how unjust, to some malevolent spirit is the height of arrogance on our part. What Eric can’t seem to understand is that we’re not immortal beings, nor do we need the supernatural in order to seriously screw ourselves over. Furthermore, I’m a witch, not a scientist or a psychologist.”

I tried to reconcile this new information with what I knew of Melissa to this point. “Yet working on your cases, you have saved lives,” I pointed out. “Was that wrong?”

“Oh, of course not,” Melissa sighed. “I’m not saying that you should sit and watch if someone’s going to get hit by a bus. What I’m saying is that when somebody DOES pass on, any attempt by us to hold them to this plane does nobody any good. If anything, we make the victim even more susceptible to supernatural attack!” She frowned, and leaned back against the counter. “For instance, not all evil spirits were evil to begin with.”

I didn’t doubt her, but was still having some trouble. “Yet how can you be so sure there WASN’T something supernatural in the death of Eric’s friend? That something else isn’t holding him to this plane? You didn’t even hear him out.”

Melissa didn’t answer right away, and when she spoke, even I could tell she was being evasive. “Eric called me out of the blue last year,” she remarked. “His grandmother was dying. He was wondering if maybe I’d changed my mind about talking with the dead. Obviously, I hadn’t.”

“That doesn’t mean this friend didn’t die in a supernatural way,” I insisted. “And since the person’s already dead, what’s the harm in looking into it - using non-supernatural means if necessary? I think you’re smart enough to do it that way.”

Melissa chuckled. “Thanks. Thing is, I know Eric. Whatever he’s doing, it’s a job best left for the police. Besides, he obviously has some other witch he’s associating with."

“Oh.” I frowned, recalling that part of the conversation. “Were you serious about the scent thing then? Never mind, I’m sure you were,” I corrected myself immediately. (I know Melissa doesn’t like being asked if she’s serious.) “It’s only, Annie didn’t have a scent… or did she?”

Melissa gestured vaguely. “The smell is more tied to a witch’s associates than the witch herself, and has to build up over time when casting.” She frowned very slightly, but then gestured dismissively. “Another witch has to attune herself carefully to recognize it anyway, you shouldn’t worry about being around me.”

Which I thought might be Melissa’s attempt to put me at ease, given my natural follow up question was whether I was somehow being marked by my recent associations with her. Though her comment raised it’s own question. “Why did you attune yourself to pick it up on Eric then?” I asked.

That one seemed to catch her off guard, as Melissa opened and closed her mouth once before responding. “I… to be sure Eric has other resources,” she declared at last. And if I didn’t know better, I’d have said she was flustered. “Which he does,” Melissa added. “Which is good. Because I don’t want to have anything more to do with him!”

That said, she shoved herself away from the counter. “I’m heading back to my room now. Feel free to finish off the jello.”

Melissa stalked past me, and seeing as I was still assimilating all that she had told me, I let her go. However, with a passing glance at the bowl she had left behind, I did call out to her, “What’s the fruit you have in this?”

“Potatoes and turnips,” Melissa called back, before closing her bedroom door.

I left the jello for her.

-

My next involvement in this case involves me being suspended upside down over a bed of nails with people chanting all around me. Distressingly, this wasn’t even something I had a chance to prepare myself for - one moment I was typing an assignment on my computer in my bedroom, and the next, all the blood was suddenly rushing to my head as my world got turned upside-down.

Of course, I’m not sure how one would prepare for that sort of thing anyway… but that’s beside the point. Luckily for you, no matter how tempting it is for me to drop you into that puzzling situation as well, Melissa later provided me with some context that you might appreciate first.

You see, my little talk with her had had more of an effect than I’d realized. According to Melissa, the more she wondered about whether there really could have been a supernatural connection, the more something nagged at her.

“It felt like, in my casual dismissal of Eric, I had missed something,” she explained to me in the aftermath. “A feeling which persisted until, despite my better judgement, I got back in contact with Eric as he was leaving town…” She grimaced. “And went with him to investigate his friend’s death.”

What follows is a rough transcript based on what Melissa told me, and what I know of her and Eric’s personalities.

-

“I knew you would understand!” Eric said gleefully upon Melissa’s arrival at the bus stop/train station/airport. (Keeping it anonymous here. Pick your transportation of choice.) “I knew that finally you–”

“Look,” Melissa interrupted, poking him in the chest. “I’m not sure why I’m doing this. Maybe it’s because you’re an old friend. Maybe it’s in hopes of compensation. Maybe it’s because there’s nothing more interesting happening at the moment. However, if you push your luck, I’m GONE.”

Her tone and facial expression must have made it clear how serious she was, because Eric fell silent. He didn’t speak again until they were already on their way out of town.

“Did you want the particulars?” he voiced at last.

Melissa stopped staring out the window and turned back to him. “Alright,” she sighed.

“My friend’s name was Gary,” Eric began. “We met in college, through a role playing club.” He paused. “I think part of the reason that we became such good friends was that he also believed in magicks. It’s rare to find people like that, particularly where I live.”

Melissa raised an eyebrow. “Did this Gary consider himself a warlock?”

Eric frowned. “I thought you once told me that ‘warlock’ meant ‘traitor’.”

She grunted. “So you do remember that conversation.”

“Mel, just because I don’t usually like what you say, that doesn’t mean I don’t listen. So are you asking if Gary was a traitor?”

Melissa shook her head. “No. Thing is, you’d be surprised how much a person can learn by simply using that word instead of ‘wizard’. Both about the individual’s knowledge of magick, and about them as a person. I mean, I’m not sure when the history books got rewritten to change the ‘warlock’ definition, but male magick practicioners are an odd bunch.”

“Hm. Then to answer your question… no, he didn’t use either word. In fact he never even tried to do illusions. Gary thought it was too dangerous.”

“Smart guy.”

“Maybe if he’d known some spells, he’d still be alive.”

Melissa posture tightened. “Don’t start. Don’t even start.”

Eric’s jaw clenched in response. “Sorry.”

My roommate resumed her scrutiny of the window. There was another extended silence. “Fine, how did he die?” she asked at last.

Eric’s posture relaxed marginally. “The official story is that he slipped on a throw rug, banged his head on a corner of his end table, and had a lamp fall on him.”

“Ow.”

“Yeah.”

Melissa turned. “Still, seems straightforward.”

“Except Gary didn’t OWN a throw rug.”

“Oh.” The witch tugged on a lock of her hair. “Odd theory for the police to come up with then.”

Eric shot her a glare. “Are you taking this seriously??”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Yes, Eric, I am being serious! But I still don’t know why I’m here. I mean, what, are you just using your friend’s death as an excuse to talk to me again?”

He flinched. “Wow, Mel, really?”

Melissa belatedly back-pedalled. “I mean… I am sorry that you… lost someone,” she offered. “It’s just, I’m not clear… look, Eric, how does the supernatural come into this?”

Eric continued to stare for a moment before returning his gaze forward. “Well, the way I see it, the rug was planted by someone. Someone who had probably been inside the apartment, and who, accidentally or otherwise, killed Gary.”

“Which is NOT necessarily supernatural,” Melissa said patiently. Then her eyes narrowed. “Eric, I hope, I really, truly hope that you don’t expect me to conjure up Gary’s spirit to ask him who did it.”

“No, I already… that is… ah, heck, you’d figure this out anyway,” Eric sighed. “Melody already said that Gary doesn’t know who it was.”

Melissa crossed her arms. “Melody,” she murmured, switching mental gears onto this new name. She exhaled slowly through her mouth, then inhaled sharply through her nose. “So that’s the witch I can smell on you?”

Eric cast her another sidelong glance. “What… literally smell? I thought you were joking.”

“Have you ever known me to joke? No, she’s actually either taken the effort to imprint herself on you, or you’ve known her for a couple of years at least.” (So I suppose I’m safe - for the moment.) Melissa’s nose twitched. “I’d say Melody’s sort of cinnamony.”

“Ah. Weird,” was her companion’s only remark. Eric then went quiet, yanking lightly on one of his earlobes.

Melissa began to get a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, as suddenly a couple of the pieces about the situation interlocked for her. “Eric, how long HAVE you known her?”

Her bald companion shrugged. “I don’t remember exactly…”

“Eric. HOW LONG?”

It seemed like he wasn’t going to answer, which itself was enough to confirm Melissa’s suspicions. She was just about to call him on it, when he provided the answer. “Since Cam.”

Melissa swore again, her fists clenching involuntarily. “That’s why you pulled away from me after he died? So that you could get this Melody girl to do what I strictly forbade? What is it with you and girls nicknamed Mel, huh?!”

“I didn’t go out with Melody!” Eric protested. “And I’m not proud of it, okay? But I couldn’t bear to lose Cam. Not like that. Anyway, it was just a seance or two, it’s not like me and Melody have been trying to raise the dead.”

The brunette witch somehow resisted the urge to slap him. “You’re even stupider than I thought,” she accused. “Even spells for talking to the dead, if not done properly, can act as a conduit for evil, or they can warp the morality of the spirit invoked, they’ll even–”

“Melody did what you refused to do,” Eric interrupted angrily. “Naturally she took precautions.”

“For Cam’s sake I bloody well hope she did.”

“He was my friend too, Mel!” Eric shouted at her; she met his renewed glare with one of her own.

Then she abruptly leaned in closer, to sniff at his neckline.

“Dammit, what is WITH you?” he said giving her a shove back into her seat. “I’m starting to regret ever contacting you again.”

“I’m not surprised,” she retorted, eyeing him more closely. “Tell me, when this Melody made a supernatural connection with your friend Gary, what exactly did his spirit have to say? Did he say that he’d been murdered?”

“Yes.”

“He used the word murder?”

“Yes!”

The brunette witch peered at him, using one of her ‘under the microscope’ gazes.

“Well, no, not exactly,” Eric amended. “But Gary said he was still partially tied to our world because the killer was hiding. Then our connection was broken. Melody wasn’t able to discern who Gary meant by ‘killer’. But his apartment door was locked from the inside, so this couldn’t have been a typical assailant. It had to be supernatural.”

“And that’s when you thought of me.”

“Yeah.”

Melissa almost leaned in to sniff at Eric again, but then thought better of it and wiggled herself back into a comfortable position on her seat instead. Meaning resting her feet up on the object in front of her, folding her body as she crossed her arms again. Her gaze became one of serious thought. “You trust Melody?” she asked after a moment, without looking at Eric.

“I do,” Eric replied. “So if you must talk with her, please don’t badmouth all the efforts she’s made on my behalf.”

“And how long have you been volunteering your time at a retirement home?”

“Ever since my grandmother went into… wait, how in the deuce did you know about that?”

“Because I know why I’m here now,” Melissa sighed. “Why I felt I had to come. But I wish I didn’t. Damn, damn… don’t talk to me any more, I have some things to sort out.”

Shooting her one final look, which Melissa caught out of the corner of her eye and said might best be described as a mixture of puzzlement and irritation, Eric did as she requested. And by the way, regardless of the form of public transportation you pictured, you can also assume that, by now, no one else was going to bother Melissa either.

The next event which has a bearing on this case occurred when Eric and Melissa arrived outside Gary’s apartment building. (I’ll spare you the intervening time - Melissa says that the only notable thing to happen was them having a meal together. I can only assume Eric ended up paying the bill.) So, let’s fast forward to that.

A VIRGA MYSTERY Borderline: Case 3a

Of course, she is still a second year university student living just off of campus, who is known by the nickname ‘Weird Gal’, primarily because of the agency she runs out of our apartment. (Similarly, I am still a somewhat naive freshman who moved into the place sight unseen.) But while Melissa kept what you might call a “professional distance” from the last two cases I’ve laid out, this one became rather more personal.

Allow me to begin at the start of my involvement, because to begin at the very beginning would necessitate tracking back a few years, and it’s best to let those events fill in as necessary. (Particularly given the need for me to keep Melissa’s true identity hidden.)

First, let me say that my participation was purely accidental. You may recall that, following the first case I witnessed, I became curious as to my roommate’s other cases - so I poked around in her papers, and talked with that one client, Annie. What followed from that was a dramatic demonstration of the dangers in pursing any sort of association with a witch.

This meant that, while I wasn’t exactly concerned about being possessed by an electrical entity, I wasn’t about to go looking for trouble. As such, I started to spend a number of evenings studying (okay, and partying) with my classmate Adam. Part of me was hoping that I might hook up with some other girl, to get me past the little “Melissa crush” which I’ve remarked on.

After all, if I’m not at home, not only am I staying clear of any dangerous cases, I’m also not liable to be tantalized by the way my roommate fills out a pair of jeans. Unfortunately, I never really clicked with anyone, and it was largely due to my absences that I rather missed the boat as far as Eric was concerned.

You see, Eric Hill (as I’ll call him) was a former classmate of Melissa’s back in high school. Their relationship was… well, for the moment, let me just say that they didn’t get along. All I knew on this particular Sunday morning in October though, was that Melissa’s phone kept ringing continuously for several minutes.

It wasn’t that Melissa hadn’t turned on her answering machine either - the phone would ring three times, stop before the machine had a chance to pick up, then resume ringing again. So, since Melissa was apparently out, and this person wasn’t about to leave a message, I decided to pick up. I actually made the decision to do so after the first minute of the caller’s persistence, but it took me some additional time to locate the phone inside of Melissa’s filing cabinet.

“Hello,” I said into the receiver, suddenly realizing I didn’t know how to refer to Melissa’s Agency. “Uh, can I help you?”

There was a response, but I completely missed it.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

I became rather distracted by the sight of Melissa’s bedroom door being thrown open, and her jumping out and ordering me to “Hang up!”. I believe she was using that no-nonsense tone of voice too, the one that gets a person to obey without even thinking about it. Despite that, I didn’t respond immediately. She began to stalk towards me, repeating her command, but the problem - and the reason for my continuing hesitation - basically came down to the fact that she was wearing a nightgown.

Despite rooming together for over a month now, this was a sight I had never seen before.

As another brief digression, let me remind you that Melissa’s sleeping habits were highly irregular - you may recall that she’s been fully awake at 2am before. In fact, I had begun to believe that she simply slept in her clothes whenever she found herself in need of a recharge.

So, having her present herself to me in sleepwear, at 10am on a Sunday, caught me off guard to say the least. Add to my surprise the way that the material of her gown (which was a bright green) had a bit of a sheen to it, creating an overall effect that helped to bring out her green eyes, and the fact that her brown hair was rumpled in a rather fetching way, and you can (hopefully) understand why I simply stood dumbfounded, holding the phone receiver up to my ear.

But enough of that. The point is, it wasn’t until Melissa was two paces away from me that any words began to register, the first being those of the male voice on the other end of the line.

“Look, I’m coming right over,” he said, right before our connection was severed by Melissa punching the disconnect button.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” my roommate asked, angrier than I had ever seen her before. Which, admittedly, isn’t THAT angry, but it was a change from how unflappable she usually appeared. “I told you to hang up!”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” was my sheepish apology as I looked away. As much out of shame as to prevent further visual distraction. “I didn’t realize you were resting.”

“As if I could sleep with that incessant ringing,” Melissa snapped back at me. “James, I asked you several times NOT to answer the phone this weekend!”

I quickly searched my memory for such an event. I do have a semi-photographic memory (which is what helps me write these accounts), and had only been home for a short while the day before. I hadn’t seen Melissa then, and tracking back to before the weekend gave me no additional hints. When had she spoken to me about this?

Feeling even more chagrined, I realized I had no idea. “Uh, when was that?” I asked meekly.

Melissa let out a quick breath between her lips, then turned to her desk. She shuffled around a couple of sheets, plucking one from the mix and holding it out in front of my face. It read ‘James, seriously, do NOT answer the phone!!!’ and was signed ‘Virga’.

I blinked. It was about to dawn on me that her version of telling me had involved leaving me notices strewn around the apartment. “I… don’t make it a habit to search your desk,” I said.

She rolled her eyes. “There’s another note in the textbook you left in the kitchen. And in the freezer next to your ice cream.”

“Why not on my bedroom door?”

“I couldn’t find any tape, and adhesive spells don’t work very well with paper.”

“Why didn’t you take the phone completely off the hook?”

“Legitimate clients would find it hard to get hold of me then, wouldn’t they?” Melissa fired back. “I did put the phone away in the filing cabinet, or had you not noticed that as well?”

Truth be told, I’d given up on understanding her filing system, but by now, I saw Melissa’s arms were folded and she was giving me a rather exasperated glare. Sensing that this was all perfectly logical to her, I thought it might be wiser to move on.

“Well, sorry,” I apologized again. “The guy did say he was coming over though, so you might want to chan–”

She grabbed me by the shirt. “Eric said he was coming here?”

“Um, yeah,” I affirmed, making the logical leap to the fact that it had been Eric on the phone.

“I’m not home, and you haven’t seen me,” she concluded. “This is my weekend off.”

With that, she released me, spun around, and vanished back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

At this point, I figured that she was simply taking a few days away from her business to handle schoolwork, thus deferring any cases to Monday. Which was wrong, given how she’d talked about legitimate clients reaching her. Moreover, the fact that she had known Eric’s name just from the way he phoned should have been my first hint of a connection between them.

-

Eric showed up some ten minutes later. I used that time to try and think of a polite way to get rid of him. I had toyed with the idea of simply not answering the door, but given how insistent he’d been with the phone, such a tactic wasn’t likely to work very well.

So when he knocked, I opened the door, barring the way inside while holding a pencil and notepaper. “Hi!” I greeted pleasantly. “Miss Virga’s not available right now, but if you leave me the case particulars I’ll–”

“Where is she?” Eric interrupted, trying to peer around behind me.

I guess this is a good enough time to describe him… he was about my height, seemed reasonably fit, and was probably university student age - though it was a bit hard to tell, given that he was bald. His choice of attire was a T-shirt and jeans, mostly hidden by an overcoat. (If it helps, perhaps you can picture a shorter Kojak without the lollypop?) Anyway, not especially imposing, but as I found out, very stubborn.

“She’s unavailable,” I repeated. “If you’ll just tell me–”

“Who are you?” he demanded, shifting his attention from the room to me, the person obstructing his passage. “Melissa’s latest boyfriend?”

That one brought me up short. The idea of Melissa dating anyone had never seriously occurred to me, let alone me being her ‘latest’ boyfriend. What didn’t help either was how the idea might have crossed my mind once or twice.

Eric capitalized on my moment of confusion, pushing past me to enter the main room. I slipped around, back into his path. “I’m her secretary,” I offered up, not wishing to get caught up in the details of our rooming situation. Then, to try and turn the tables on his questioning, I fired back, “Who are YOU?”

“I’m Eric. Melissa’s ex-boyfriend,” he stated.

This constant string of surprises really wasn’t fair to me at all.

He got as far as looking around behind her desk this time, and was making a move for her bedroom, before I could head him off again. He sure as heck wasn’t getting in THERE, not with Melissa in her green nightgown.

“Well, as you can see, Melissa’s not here,” I reiterated. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow?”

“I’m only in town this weekend,” came his quick reply. “She knows that, from when I phoned her on Friday.”

His arm met my chest - but he wasn’t about to dodge past me a third time, not with that lame line. “Look, this is a place of business,” I said, raising my voice and ignoring for the moment how it was also my residence. “If you have a personal grudge with Melissa, this is hardly the–”

“I have a case for her, a friend of mine is dead!”

Okay, so, with that one he was able to get by me and knock at Melissa’s bedroom door.

“Hey!” I protested, resorting to grabbing at his arm by the overcoat so he couldn’t turn the doorknob. “I said leave the details with ME. Or come back later. Melissa isn’t–”

“Oh, nevermind, James,” came her voice from behind the door.

It swung open then, and Melissa slipped out. She closed the door behind her, leaning back on the wall with her arms folded, and glared at the both of us. Again, though I’ve said she’s only a little over five feet tall, comparatively, at that moment, it felt like I was only five inches in height. (Incidentally, she had changed into jeans and a sweatshirt.)

“Sorry,” I mumbled at her yet again, but her anger was swiftly zeroing in on Eric.

Melissa’s nose wrinkled slightly as she sniffed the air. “Interesting scent,” she observed. “Since you’ve apparently been seeing some other witch regularly, why not have her deal with your problems?”

“Because she only lets me talk with spirits, she doesn’t do detective work,” Eric answered. He also seemed a bit more deflated now that he was in Melissa’s presence. I chalked it up to her glare. “I need more than that. I need to know who killed him.”

Melissa’s jaw clenched. “I should have known.”

“Mel, listen…”

“I don’t… do… DEATH!” she stated, punctuating each word with jabs to Eric’s chest. “You of ALL people know that. If evil spirits are manipulating the living, that’s one thing. Once people are dead, that’s out of my hands. That’s a border I cannot cross! Whoever it is, you have to let them go, Eric.”

“I can’t.”

Melissa swore. My jaw dropped - I’d never seen her lose her cool that way. She then marched between us to lean against her desk, facing away, towards the window. Eric didn’t pursue her, apparently knowing enough to give her some time after that outburst.

“You’re a damn fool,” she reiterated after a moment, using slightly less colourful language. “Eric, you haven’t changed in three years.”

“And I won’t dispute that,” he answered. “But I still need your help.”

“So what,” Melissa inquired, still without turning, “makes you think I’ll help you this time, when I have never done so in the past?”

Eric shuffled his feet a bit. “I came in person?”

Melissa finally turned back. “Get out.”

“Look,” I piped up, aware that the smart thing to do here would be to retreat somewhere else. (Sometimes I do the smart thing, but this wasn’t one of those times.) “Obviously there’s a history here that I don’t know. But, setting that aside, if someone has died because of the supernatural, shouldn’t we do something to make sure it doesn’t happen again?” I mean, Melissa had always seemed pretty conscientious about preventing issues that might happen later.

“That’s not what this is about,” Melissa said, tight lipped. “Right, Eric?”

“It… might be,” he said, in a rather unconvincing way.

“It’s about using the supernatural to solve a routine death,” she explained, looking to me. “Eric is nothing if not predictable.”

“Oh,” I said, briefly taken aback. “And if we did that, it would mess with the supernatural balance on Earth?”

“Right,” Melissa asserted.

“That’s not a sure thing,” Eric protested. “Mel, you’re just twisting the facts here to get rid of me.”

“Is it working yet?”

Eric’s expression tightened. “Fine. Fine, have it your way,” he said after a moment. “I’ll investigate things on my own.” He turned and strode purposefully back towards the front door. “You know, you haven’t changed in three years either,” was his parting shot before he walked out and slammed the door behind him.

Melissa stood silently, face turned away from the door, not watching him leave. I fancied a bit more colour appeared in her cheeks when he spoke his last words, though whether it was anger or embarrassment, I don’t know.

She then breezed past me, not to her room, but to the kitchen.

I gave Melissa five minutes before I joined her.

A VIRGA MYSTERY Net Worth: Entry 2d

“Did you think that by not saying anything, I wasn’t hurting?” she challenged him. “Damn it Frank, you keep talking about yourself. Didn’t you learn anything about me during that time we spent together?”

“I could say the same,” Frank cut back. “I mean, I liked to think what we had was more than physical, but ever since April, it became harder and harder to figure you out. I kept wondering what was going wrong, and you wouldn’t tell me!”

“I didn’t know what was happening with me either! Not until…" Annie’s hands clenched into fists, glancing at Melissa out of the corner of her eye. She took in a deep breath. “Look, I think you’ve said enough,” she told Frank. “We’ve both moved on now, can we get to the banish–”

“Like HELL I’ve moved on,” Frank interrupted, a spark of electricity appearing at his fingertips. “The pain at being ignored, it’s still gnawing at me months later. Gosh, I was such a damn inconvenience to you, wasn’t I? You must have wondered why couldn’t I just leave you alone.”

“Frank…”

“After all, I was the last one to know it was done, wasn’t I? Everyone else we knew had it figured out, but no, not me.” His fingertips began to glow blue. “You know,” Annie’s former boyfriend continued, his body now shaking slightly. “You know, if you die, then at least I won’t have to keep hoping that some day, somehow, you’ll finally EXPLAIN yourself to me. Finally I’ll get SOME sort of closure!”

Annie took a half a step back, concern and worry on her face.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“This isn’t good,” Melissa muttered, a little redundantly.

Of course, Melissa’s major problem now was that she couldn’t act directly against the entity, not so long as Frank was at least partially accepting it’s control. The whole ‘performing magick on the unwilling’ situation. As to me, I was starting to wonder why I’d stuck around for this ceremony in the first place, as Melissa had suggested to me that I go elsewhere. (Oh, right, it was so I could write this story up for you.)

“Look, Frank…” Annie began again, but he didn’t seem to be listening anymore. I became aware of a scratching noise at my bedroom door.

“All you had to do was tell me WHY!” Frank practically screamed at her. A tear ran down his cheek, glowing electric blue. “Not even necessarily why we split apart, because yes, I could see there were differences, I wasn’t completely blind, but why cut me out of your life? Did I have absolutely ZERO net worth as far as you were concerned?!”

Annie took another step back, slipped on one of Melissa’s stray desk papers, and fell to the ground. Frank took a step forwards, raising one arm, a ball of blue energy forming within his palm. Melissa let out what I think was a latin curse and began making mystical gestures - which I suspect involved that backup plan of destroying our entire building.

And me? Well, I went to check out the scratching at my bedroom door. Why? Because it felt like someone should, and I was the least preoccupied person in the room.

It turned out to be the right thing to do.

Tabby shot out of my room and into Annie’s arms, without, it seemed to me, a paw even touching the floor. Frank froze upon seeing the cat, caught off guard - no one had mentioned to him about Melissa bringing Tabby here, along with all the other things Annie had wanted for her overnight stay. (No one had told me either, for that matter.)

In retrospect, closing Tabby up in my room in order to keep him safe might have been the luckiest mistake Annie made that night. Because it was at this point, when Annie blinked down at her pet, then back up at Frank, that the presence of the animal could give her a measure of inner strength.

It’s worth adding that her red barrette began to glow faintly. Something that makes more sense when you remember that it was the one item that Melissa’s illusion spell couldn’t duplicate. Remember how Annie’s witch powers were recent?

“All right,” Annie said quietly, staring up at her ex-boyfriend. “You want the truth? Then here it is.” She stumbled back to her feet, the rest of the room going deadly quiet. Even Avril had given up her crooning in the nearby apartment.

There was a boom of thunder, in my opinion a little late (or perhaps, early) for proper dramatic effect.

“Last April, I found that I was able to conjure objects," Annie said. “Nothing big. A pencil. A thumbtack. Water into a glass. It freaked me the heck out… and I found that I couldn’t talk to you about it. Because whenever I tried, you wouldn’t listen, or you changed the subject. Which is when I realized that you had started to take me for granted.”

The sparks flashing around Frank’s palm died down. Annie began to pet the cat in her arms, though her gaze remained fixed on him. I noticed a tear running down her cheek now too.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” Annie continued. “You felt like one of the good ones. But with that huge change in my life, all the other things became harder to ignore. I finally realized that the only way I could deal with my own issues was to cut things off with you completely. So that I wouldn’t be tempted to return to you, prolonging the inevitable. It was for both our sakes.”

“BOTH of us?” Frank said, a spark of electricity jumping about in his hair. “I–”

“Just LISTEN for once!” Annie shouted, and now it was Frank’s turn to take a step back. “Listen, and for that matter, think about what it means to be female in today’s society! To have ridiculous standards imposed on us. To have stupid terms like ‘friend zone’ bounced around. And then to add to all that the fact that apparently I can do magic and didn’t know why or if I might hurt you or someone else we knew. I needed time. So, I cut myself off. What would you have done in my place?”

There was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, but in reality I’m sure it lasted only seconds. “All right,” Frank murmured, his voice sounding loud after the stillness. “In retrospect, I should have listened better.” He gestured at Annie’s glowing accessory. “And here I thought your new hairstyle was a symptom, rather than the barrette itself being the problem.”

“That’s a magick amplifier,” Melissa said idly. “Attuned to her family, or I might have realized sooner. Annie, for the record, if you take it off, you might not have to deal with the magick any more.”

Annie reached up to touch the object. “My mom found this in our attic. Gave it to me for my birthday. When I wear it, I feel some sort of connection… but yes, I think today’s the last day I will ever put it on.”

“Oh.” Frank half smiled. “In that case, do you think that our relationship might…”

“NO, Frank,” Annie said, putting Tabby down. “Because Melissa’s genealogy spell also showed me that we’re actually related. Turns out my father had an illicit affair, he was secretly your father, so things can truly never be between us.”

Frank’s eyes grew wide. “Wait, what? We’re siblings?”

Annie chuckled. “No. But I figured you were expecting some extra dramatic twist, like in those shows you liked to watch. So you can use that, if you want a more mundane explanation than a magical barrette. Or me not wanting to look back.”

Frank stared. Then he laughed. “Touché. Geez, I was so busy looking for one specific thing that I did. But it’s never as simple as that, huh?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Annie. It is time to move on. And as they said once on CSI, truth brings closure."

Annie nodded. “I’m sorry too, maybe I should have made more of an effort to get through to you.”

Frank shook his head. “You tried. A relationship takes two.” He then gasped and collapsed to his knees, slamming his hands up against his temples. “S-Speaking of… agh! It’s… still trying to control… quick, k-kill it already!"

“About time you asked us,” Melissa grumbled, quickly stepping forwards while holding the orb of hex out in the palm of her hand. “Annie?”

The dark haired woman turned to glance at Melissa, blinked then nodded. She reached out to place her palm overtop of the orb as well. The two witches then turned their attention to Frank, who returned their gaze, his panicked look somehow at odds with his posture, and his eye colour - which was that same electric blue from before.

“F,” Melissa began slowly. “E… D… C… B… A… 9…”

“Yaaaaggghhh!” Frank shouted, coiling up from the floor and jumping at Annie. “Your power is MINE, witch!”

“8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, ANNULLARE!” Annie finished rapidly in place of Melissa.

I caught my roommate smiling at the other woman as a wave of red light pulsed out from the orb of hex, rippling through the whole room, freezing Frank in mid-jump. (By the way, annullare here means destroy. Which leaves Melissa’s earlier latin remark at the light switch as the one for you to look up. After all, it’s important to be well educated.)

The air crackled at that point, everyone catching a bad case of electrostatic (including Tabby, poor thing), and from Frank’s throat there came the death scream of an evil internet entity. The creepiest part being how Frank’s mouth wasn’t open.

It was all rather hideous at the time, though the only way I can think to describe that sound now, after the fact, is to say it was like a 1200 baud modem connecting to a phone line. Assuming you’ve ever heard that. Maybe you’ve come across the sound by seeking out retro noises on the web.

At any rate, the scream soon died out. Blue sparks showered the area, then dispersed without a trace, and I was left with something of a tinny feeling in my mouth. I found out later that the power had cut out for the whole building.

Frank dropped to the floor, unconscious.

“Good,” Melissa concluded, letting out a sigh of relief. She raked her free hand back through her hair. Which, by the way, did not help to unfrizz the static at all. Predictably, it was kind of cute. “You handled that perfectly, Annie. Carry a small magical charm with you at all times, and use that latin phrase if you ever get attacked again,” she concluded.

Annie’s knuckles were white as she maintained a death grip on the orb I’d bought (little more than a small crystal ball, really). “Do you… do you think this sort of thing is LIKELY to happen again?” she inquired weakly.

“If you’re serious about taking off the barrette and not practicing magick in future, probably not,” Melissa admitted. “Particularly now that you have a way of defending yourself. After all, while fledgling witches are prime targets, they’re damn hard to pinpoint without help, and not worth the effort when they’re on their guard. Of course, to be on the safe side, if you’re ever running sensitive personal information though a computer, don’t have it hooked into anything else, hmmm?”

Melissa took a step towards her desk, and ended up partially pulling Annie with her. She stopped. “You can let go of the orb now,” the experienced witch added, glancing down at where their palms were joined.

“Oh…” With some effort, Annie lifted her hand away from the crystal. She looked down at the unconscious Frank, whose head was being pawed at gently by Tabby. “Will… will he be all right?”

“Oh, sure,” Melissa said easily, moving to put the orb of hex away in a file cabinet. “He’ll probably have a bad headache, but that’s all. Almost lost him, of course… really would have helped had he told us the full extent of his issues with you beforehand.”

Annie flushed a bit in the cheeks. “Our relationship was hardly your business. Though the things he was saying there… was that all the entity’s doing?”

Melissa made a vague gesture in the air. “Not entirely. The dialogue was him, though I doubt he would have spoken any of it aloud if it weren’t for the merging. Now, you’ll receive my bill for the orb in the mail. I’ll grant you a discount since I might have occasion to use it again. And on the bright side, the rain seems to be easing up, so you can head home now if you like!” She smiled.

A distant rumble added credence to the fact that the storm had begun moving off. I’d barely noticed the status of the weather what with all the excitement inside the apartment.

“I… home?” Annie said dubiously, turning to look out the window.

“No, no, it’s fine, you can stick around here,” I broke in quickly, reasoning Annie might not want to be alone just yet. “I don’t mind you and Tabby using my room. I mean, I’m too amped up to sleep now, and Frank may want someone to help him home when he comes to. Plus according to my watch it’s already…”

I paused, shaking my wrist. My watch had stopped working at 11:45. I suppose it was a good thing that my computer hadn’t been in the area. “Well, it’s at least midnight,” I ventured.

“Midnight?” Melissa said in surprise. “It can’t be that late, can it?” She paused to check her own wrist, then the desk and the wall. She still hadn’t put clocks in any of those places. “Though you could be right,” she yielded. “Hey, it’s awful dark in here too. James, do you know where I might have put our flashlight?”

“I left it in the fridge when I went there for a drink,” I remarked. “While we were waiting for Frank. I needed the light because of how said fridge was unplugged and I didn’t want to accidentally pour myself your beet and jalapeño juice.”

Annie looked from Melissa to me and back. “You two are very weird,” she decided.

Well, I could hardly argue with her there.

-

Again, there’s not a lot more to say in the epilogue. Frank came to reasonably quickly and bowed out of the apartment looking embarrassed. I accompanied him part of the way home, just to fill in the gaps, as Annie slept in my room. When I got back, Melissa actually did have the courtesy to offer me the use of her bed - she wanted to do some paperwork - but upon reflection, I decided I wasn’t ready for a look inside Melissa’s bedroom just yet. I dropped myself into a chair with a blanket.

Related, this little crush on Melissa that I’ve managed to not make subtle in the slightest? Well, given this look at how a relationship with a witch can turn out, I’ve decided I’ll be trying to curb my youthful enthusiasm as much as possible.

Still… I couldn’t help but grin like an idiot when Melissa belatedly thanked me the next morning for letting Tabby out, salvaging the whole situation and all. Knowing her, it was nice that she not only noticed that fact, but took the further step of acknowledging me. It also led to the following exchange, beginning with my remark, “Pretty soon, I bet you won’t even be able to forget that I’m living here.”

Melissa shook her head. “Please, James. I don’t ever forget about you,” she stated. “You’re simply not quite what I expected in a roommate. I’m having to adjust, that’s all.”

“You mean adjust to my interest in your cases?”

She eyed me. “Frankly, yes. I had expected teasing, hoped for tolerance, and somehow got acceptance. I may even be trying to provoke the more typical reactions, instead of what you’re giving me.” She put her hands on her hips. “On top of that, there’s also your interest in my appearance. The way you look at me sometimes, it’s… mmph, well, it’s time I was going to class.”

Melissa swiftly grasped her purse and philosophy textbook and hurried out of the apartment before I was able to pull myself together and ask for clarification. Was she saying my crush was jeopardizing everything? Or was she saying I had a chance with her? My heart beat faster. I tried to get it to slow down.

Perhaps it was time to find myself a study partner in first year who wasn’t Adam. A female one, that is, and one who wasn’t a witch, which might allow me to avoid things getting complicated in the apartment. It’s to my benefit that Melissa hasn’t shown any interest in reading these accounts thus far.

Either way, as far as the case is concerned, the electrical activity in our area that night was attributed to the storm, and it barely made the news. I got my laptop back, and have since taken to making sure I’m not on the net 24/7, as well as ensuring that the little trash bin icon is emptied regularly. As to Frank and Annie, I will say Frank got in touch with us a couple of days after the incident, thanking us for inadvertently providing him with closure.

I suppose one can hope that those two at least resumed talking with each other on occasion… after all, to believe such a thing gives a measure of hope to the messed up interpersonal relationships the rest of us manage to get ourselves involved in. Wouldn’t you say?

END CASE 2

A VIRGA MYSTERY Net Worth: Entry 2c

“Less wizard talk, more file talk,” Melissa insisted. “What was in it?”

Frank ran his fingers back through his hair. “Fine. It bugged me as to where I screwed up so seriously as to make Annie completely cut me out of her life. So I ran an analysis. Coded into my computer some stuff I knew about her, the main details of our relationship, and I tried to run an analysis. I hoped to identify the key moment, which would finally give me closure."

Melissa nodded, all the pieces now falling into place for her. Apparently. (I gave her a look, which she ignored.) “So what happened to the file?” she asked Frank.

“My program ran for the better part of a day, then crashed,” Frank answered, shrugging. “The file itself had become corrupt or something. I figured it was because I was running a torrent at the same time, decided that it was a sign that I’d asked the computer for too much, and tried to trash the thing. Only to find it had already been placed into my recycling folder. Or I THOUGHT it had been… maybe it was a copy? I never gave that file much thought again until now,” Frank admitted.

“Your computer was hooked up to the internet at the time you ran the program then?” Melissa chastised.

“Um, duh?” Annie’s ex replied. He cleared his throat, looking guilty. “Look, I honestly thought her file had been erased. I’m sorry if some personal information got out. That was never my intent. Annie… she’s not going to die on account of my program, is she?”

“Not if I can help it,” Melissa concluded.

Having learned everything from Frank that she needed, the supernatural detective spun on her heel and marched back out of his apartment. She was already working out the best way to solve the problem. Frank quietly watched her go.

-

“Or at least, if he said anything else, I wasn’t paying attention,” Melissa admitted.

“All right,” I said, parsing her conversation. “So what you’re saying is, Annie’s ex-boyfriend created a computer file on her, which gained sentience, became evil and is now trying to kill her?”

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“More or less. The sentience thing was no doubt due to an external entity melding with it at just the wrong - or the right - time. Anyway, the male perspective thing I wanted to know from you–”

“Wait,” I protested. I rubbed my eyes, not that it helped me to process the situation any better, but it gave me more time to assimilate things. “Okay,” I continued at last. “So this ‘entity’ - is now being controlled by an an actual evil wizard running around campus?”

“Of course not,” Melissa scoffed. “James, keep up. For one thing, the issue here is that Annie’s a witch. Naturally.”

I’m not sure what bothered me more, the fact that Melissa said it so matter-of-factly, or the fact that I hadn’t been anywhere near reaching that conclusion yet. Had I missed the clues once more? I leaned in a little closer, finding it hard to read Melissa’s expression in the absence of proper lighting. “A witch. Like you,” I said, dumbfounded.

Melissa shrugged. “Well, Annie’s taller.”

I gave my roommate a look that said I wanted more, and she seemed to pick up on that after a half a minute or so. She reached back for the piece of paper she’d been staring at when I entered. “I got Annie’s permission to do a quick lineage spell before she went to lie down,” Melissa said. She pointed to a branch of the family tree pictured. “I think it comes from two generations back on Annie’s mother’s side.”

Apparently, I was still going to have to ask the obvious question. “Okay… and you realized this about Annie because, what, you witches can sense each other, like immortals in those TV shows?”

“Oh James, please don’t make this silly,” Melissa sighed, putting the paper down. “While it’s true that witch magick can leave a scent on others, as a general rule, we don’t send up beacons for other witches to trace. It would paint a target on us for less friendly supernatural beings to spot.”

Something finally clicked for me. “But that computer file. It could have been a beacon.”

“It was,” Melissa agreed. “And from what Frank said, I gather it was entangled with elements of Annie’s personality and her magick power, creating our problem. His program might have even worked out the truth. Pity Frank never got the results, now it will be up to me to explain about being a witch to Annie.”

At last, things began to make sense. “Because Annie doesn’t know. About the computer file, or even about her witch abilities.”

“No, and not consciously.”

“So Annie wasn’t here consulting you as one witch to another.”

“Oh, heck no,” Melissa said, with a delightful laugh. “Did you think that? In fact, I wouldn’t have even suspected her inherent ability, had Annie not told me that her cat had been hissing at the computer. After all, certain animals are often more drawn towards those with magick potential, to the point of becoming protective of them. So when Annie replied to my question about cats by saying they’d always been around her family, it added credence to the theory.”

“And the supernatural books at her house…”

“Glad you saw those. Yes, on some level, Annie may be aware. Maybe that’s why, like me, she isn’t keen on technology? Either way, it told me that I’d need to ask her friends about any magick links. Leading to the herbal remedies in her family history, mentioned by a couple people. A red flag, as sometimes magick users use those to disguise what’s really going on."

“Which is why you didn’t want me with you as you asked your questions,” I realized. “I might blurt out something awkward, like I did with the nail polish.”

Melissa patted my shoulder. “Yes, well, you do tend to react visibly, James, and I didn’t want to waste time on explanations. Though I really did need that orb you got me too.”

I pondered things. Something still didn’t quite add up. “Does anyone know about Annie being a witch?”

“I doubt it,” Melissa said. “Seems like a recent awakening.”

“Okay, so if Annie’s a witch, and there’s no one acting against her, why not simply teach her a spell she can use for protection against the entity?”

“Well, why can’t you simply make a green ball appear yellow?” Melissa fired back levelly. “Remember I said that’s simple illusion - anyone can do it, magick background or not.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “Okay,” I yielded. “So doing the necessary spell isn’t simply a matter of rote repetition. It takes a lot of practice?”

“More than that,” Melissa said. “You have to be open to the very possibility. Supernatural balance. And Annie hasn’t seemed thrilled with what her subconscious has been trying to tell her. Of course, she’s STILL going to have to participate in our final spell so that she knows how to properly protect herself in the future… but even THAT is not my major problem right now.”

I rubbed my neck. “What’s the major problem then?”

“Oh, you mean I can finally get around to asking you what it is I wanted to know five minutes ago?” Melissa retorted.

Her tone wasn’t irritated exactly, but it wasn’t exactly calm, it was more dry and… the realization that she was attempting to be sarcastic hit me before I could get around to replying. As such, I didn’t say anything, because my mind became busy trying to remember if Melissa had ever used that particular tone with anyone else while I was around. Did she even know what sentiment the tone conveyed?

“I assume that’s a yes then,” Melissa decided, switching back to her more level tone. Wait, and was she blushing, or were the shadows of the room playing tricks on me? She turned to look out the window, so I couldn’t tell. Outside, the rain continued to fall.

“James, my problem is, I can’t think of a way to personally get rid of this entity in the time left to us. I’ll need Annie’s help, and to this point, my only viable plan also involves Frank, the unwitting originator of the base program.” She faced me again. “So I need you to tell me if his relationship with Annie is sufficiently ‘Odi et amo’ for my idea to work.”

I blinked. “Odie ate ammo?”

“I hate and I love,” Melissa translated. “Remind me to give you a latin phrasebook. See, we’ll need to get the entity inside of Frank, because once it has a physical form, me and Annie can use the orb of hex to wipe it out. However, for that plan to work, Frank can’t still be in love with Annie, or the entity will reject the merging. Yet he can’t outright hate her, or the entity will take over his persona completely.”

I tried not to boggle at my roommate. “This plan seems incredibly risky.”

“Yes. It’s always risky with emotions, they’re such a pain.”

“Not quite what I meant. Could Frank die? Or Annie?”

“Obviously,” Melissa snapped. She winced then, and marched over to her desk and leaned on it, staring towards my bedroom area.

“Sorry. I blame myself for this," she stated, visibly tense. “I didn’t realize the evil would be able to adapt to life outside of a computer so quickly. But it must have had contact with Annie this morning for long enough to snare a piece of her magical essence. I suspect that’s how it’s been able to survive as an independent force for this long as well… taking in other magicks to sustain itself, and to grow, in pursuit of its ultimate goal. That being to gain control over a fledgling witch.” She shook her head. “If only the balance were properly in place, this would never have been possible."

I moved closer to Melissa and reached up my hand, preparing to put it on her shoulder in a comforting way. I changed my mind at the last moment and used it to rub my chin. “Well, Frank sounds like he’s over their relationship. You’re sure he wasn’t feigning ignorance about knowing what his program was doing? Maybe he’s been behind things all along.”

Melissa shook her head, a shaft of light from a passing car briefly reflecting through the window and illuminating her long, chestnut brown hair in an inexplicably alluring way. “I can’t be certain, but I’m almost positive Frank never intended any harm. Thing is, that’s not enough to ensure he’d survive a connection to an evil electronic entity.” She glanced back my way. “James, tell me. Is involving him with Annie again the right thing to do?”

I turned that question around in my head a couple of times. The natural direction my thoughts took involved putting myself in the situation of being called in to help, were it Melissa in trouble. Given the witch parallel. But at this point any ‘love’ I was feeling for my roommate was probably only physical, and the ‘hate’ I felt at how she could do things like give up my living space without even asking permission didn’t exactly balance the scale. Also, we hadn’t yet spent a year dating.

For that matter, not knowing the details of Annie and Frank’s relationship, how could I properly compare my situation to theirs? I finally said the only thing that seemed to make sense, namely, “Why don’t you let Frank make that decision himself?”

Melissa blinked at me. “Mmmm. Just tell him Annie’s a witch, you mean?”

I coughed. “Maybe play up the ‘Annie is in trouble’ angle and downplay the ‘evil digital entity’ side of things. Thing is, if he really doesn’t want harm to come to her, he’ll help.”

“Mmmm,” she repeated. She then reached past me, opening the lower drawer of her desk and pulling out a phone. “I suppose that makes sense,” she decided. “Though I confess part of me hopes he’ll say no, as this outcome is becoming so hard to predict.” She untwisted the phone’s cable, plugging it into the wall. “Fortunately, the fact that this phone’s rotary should confound our evil incarnate, at least for as long as it takes me to phone Frank.”

I nodded. “And do we have a backup plan if Frank does say no?” I wondered.

Melissa grimaced. “Sure. We evacuate the building, I lure the entity in here, and then I destroy the whole apartment complex.”

“Ahh. Which kind of works better as a backup to a backup plan…”

“I know. I’m not keen on changing all my business cards,” Melissa remarked. “But it’s all I’ve got.” She finished dialling. Outside, there was a brief flash of lightning, then thunder rumbled again.

-

The four of us stood in the apartment building, aka Melissa’s office, a little later. All of us trying not to stare at each other. Which wasn’t too difficult, since it was still very dark.

“Well??” Melissa said at last, turning a glare first upon Annie, then Frank. “I explained the situation to you both individually, and you both agreed, however hesitantly, to go through with this. So, are you going to start talking to each other or not?”

I winced at Melissa’s blunt attitude, but she did have a point about needing to do something sooner rather than later. Even so, there was still a pause, broken only by another rumble of thunder - the rain was coming down harder now, tapping against the window.

“Is talking required then?” Frank said. “Because it’s obvious Annie’s no longer keen on speaking with me.”

“I speak to you,” Annie shot back.

“When there’s other people around,” Frank retorted. “You never called me back last month, or replied to those few emails I sent.”

“It was one phone call, I was busy that week. As to email, you know I’m not keen on computers.” Annie shuddered. “Hell, I’ll probably be even less thrilled with them after this nightmare is over.”

“Eh, okay, valid point,” Frank conceded. “Sorry for apparently about being the cause of this, by the way. I never should have made that program.”

Annie pursed her lips, but otherwise didn’t respond. Again, there was silence. Except for somewhere else in the building, I could just make out the sound of an Avril Lavigne song playing.

Melissa let out an exasperated sigh. “Look. If I let this entity in and you’re just staring morosely at each other, it’s going to go for Annie’s throat. It gains more power if it merges with you, Frank, but you’ve got to generate a more hospitable environment for evil inside you. So shout at her, or something.”

Frank turned to gave Melissa a dubious look.

“Perhaps if you explained to Annie why you created your program in the first place?” I jumped in, trying to help.

Frank now glanced in my direction before turning back to Annie. “Well, ah… basically, I was trying to work out why you broke up with me.”

Annie blinked back at him. “Wasn’t that obvious?”

Frank frowned. “Well, no, not really, that’s the whole point… you refused to talk to me about it, yeah?”

“I said we had differences. And I did answer your questions.”

“When I asked some, sure,” Frank granted. “But that was ME asking, you never showed initiative. So in order to avoid constantly berating you, I was left wondering to myself: Was it our different tastes in music? The fact that you enjoy cottage life more than I do? Was I not spending enough time with you? Was I that lousy in bed? I mean what, exactly, was the thing that caused you to cast me aside so easily?”

Annie flinched. “Easily? You think it was easy?!”

“I don’t KNOW!” Frank said in exasperation. “Anyway, don’t change the subject. Which of those things was it??”

“It… it wasn’t any one thing,” she stammered back. “It was all those things taken together which made me realize our relationship wasn’t going to go anywhere. In particular your inability to notice certain things that were happening.”

“In that case, why didn’t you TALK to me about these things?!” Frank said in exasperation. “Hell, you’re still avoiding me months later. What’s up with that?”

“Look, Frank, my concerns were pretty obvious,” Annie retorted, pointing at him. “And distancing myself from you, that seemed to me the best way for the both of us to get on with our lives.”

“Thank you, much better,” Melissa muttered off to my right. With one finger, she reached out and flipped the light switch while saying, “alea iacta est…”.

At this point, I suppose it would be fitting to say that there was a great crash of thunder, or a flash of lightning, marking the appearance of the evil net entity inside of the room. But while it might be fitting, it would be inaccurate - all that occurred was a bright light flooding the area, the filament in the bulb popping, and all of us being cast back into darkness. I had to rub my eyes at the afterimages, and as I did so I heard Frank speaking as if nothing had happened.

“Get on with our lives?” he was saying incredulously. “How could I get on with my so-called life when I wasn’t sure how to handle the relationship aspect of it any more? Damn it, Annie, did you forget that I can be a depressive? I was in a state of self-doubt for weeks!”

Annie pressed a hand to her forehead. “I didn’t forget. But telling you the truth, you would have thought I was making up stories. I was sure that would only make things even worse!”

“Oh, so you just decided for both us us then,” he fired back. “Being sure and all. Then you took the easy route, ignoring me whenever you got the chance.”

“Easy?! There you go again with that!”

I sidled over next to Melissa. “So, do we need to turn on another light or plug in another–”

She waved me off. “It’s there,” she said, the hushed tone of her voice managing to creep me out more than anything. “Look at his hair.”

I did. Frank’s hair was starting to stand on end, as if there was an excess of static electricity in the air. Then, when the lightning outside finally flashed in a suitably atmospheric way, I saw a spot of blue energy over Frank’s head. The image was only there for a moment, less than a second really, but I somehow I knew this thing was - and I know it sounds crazy - it was baring FANGS at Annie.

I think the only reason I didn’t run out of the room screaming was that I didn’t want to move, for fear of attracting the thing’s attention.

A VIRGA MYSTERY Net Worth: Entry 2b (really)

“James, can you look around back of that thing and disconnect any wires or cables that might be hooking it up directly to the net or a network or whatever the heck it is these computers hook into?” she requested as she got set up. “Saves me just pulling out everything."

“Um, sure,” I replied. I approached the machine a bit nervously, wondering if the blank monitor wasn’t somehow staring at me.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

Observing my unease, Melissa made a ‘tch tch’ noise. “It’s perfectly safe as long as there’s no power to the thing,” she pointed out. “Unless it’s some whole new breed of entity, that is.”

“Oh, VERY reassuring,” I said sarcastically, before remembering that Melissa never seemed to recognize sarcasm.

With a sigh, I peered around the back of the tower. The only external connection that Annie’s computer seemed to have was an ethernet cable, so I disconnected that, tossing the end some distance away. So far, so good. I decided to unhook the webcam while I was back there too; there were a series of scorch marks on the casing beside it.

I then looked around the room for evidence of wireless fidelity. In the process, I found there were some books on the supernatural stacked on Annie’s coffee table. I guessed she had gone to the library before consulting with Melissa.

“Are we in trouble if the computer connects to the internet as soon as you log in?” I asked, after not spotting anything right away.

“Hmm. I suppose it could allow the entity to do a web search on how to escape from my clutches,” Melissa mused. “But no, it won’t leave via wifi. It’s the hard line that I was worried about.”

I gave up my search. “Okay, then you’re good to… ah, go.” I was momentarily taken aback by the sight of Melissa pouring what seemed to be a small ring of flour onto the floor.

Part of me wished she hadn’t worn those tight jeans today. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not about to tell a woman how to dress, I know the problem is me, but it makes me think that helping Melissa more often might cause my mind to wander more often to the wrong places. I suppose that makes me shallow.

Melissa stood then, and turned. “Good,” she stated, ignoring any expression that might have been on my face. She moved to the computer, stuck a finger into a jar of what seemed to be face cream, traced a symbol on the monitor, and took a step back to admire her handiwork.

“Will that banish the entity?” I asked timidly, after a moment.

“No,” Melissa said absently. “It’s more to protect me.” She put the cream back into her purse. “Truth be told, I suspect the evil has already flown the coop, but if it IS still here, that makes this job easier. Might even mean you even get to sleep in your own bed tonight, instead of the couch."

Oh, right. “Um, actually, about that…”

“Hm? What about it?” Melissa wondered, looking back my way. “Come now James, you didn’t expect Annie to crawl into bed with ME tonight, did you?”

“Ah, no, ah, rrrgl…” The way she wiggled her eyebrows at me brought to mind an image of the two ladies cuddling, successfully trampling right over any other coherent thoughts I was having. It’s only in typing this up that I have to ask whether some of Melissa’s antics are done deliberately. To keep me off balance? Because of some subconscious interest in me? Well, I shouldn’t speculate.

At any rate, in the moment, I could no longer vocalize the protest that had been on my lips moments before. Melissa, as always, appeared to ignore any effect caused by her remarks, or was very politely choosing not to remark on my jaw dropping open.

“Okay James, stand back,” Melissa said, pulling out a candle and a lighter. “I’m about to do something here that’s a little more daring than changing the colour of our doorknob.”

She lit the candle and moved into the small circle of flour (circle of power?). I noticed that she also held Annie’s key in the palm of her hand.

I backed off towards the couch, exchanging a quick glance with Annie’s cat. Tabby seemed to have decided that our actions were more a source of amusement than any kind of threat, and had curled back up, observing us with half an eye.

As I watched, Melissa closed her eyes, murmured a few words I couldn’t hear, reopened her eyes and stated more loudly, “Mutatio!”. (Which is, as always, from the latin - it means a change or transformation.)

It wasn’t like what you’d see in the cartoons, with lots of flashing lights or Melissa spinning around on one foot, her long brown hair flying about her. Reality just seemed to stretch a bit, as if it were an elastic, and when it snapped back into place a half second later, Annie was standing in the living room instead of Melissa.

Annie looked almost exactly as she had in Melissa’s office not half an hour ago. Shirt, jeans, ankle boots, the whole deal. Only the red hair barrette was missing. Without hesitation, Annie blew out her candle, marched forwards to the computer, sat down and switched it on.

“Whoa, wait, what?” I protested, finally finding my voice and taking a step forwards.

Without turning, Annie raised a hand to motion me back. I paused, glancing again over at Tabby. The cat had gone to the effort of standing up, and was looking towards Annie in what seemed to be surprise. However, after a moment he curled his legs back under himself and settled for peering suspiciously.

Illusion, I realized. That was still Melissa over there in the chair, not Annie at all. She must have done something similar to appear as a janitor during her prior case, when visiting Dan/Danielle.

The computer completed the boot up process, and I watched as Melissa/Annie dragged the mouse around the screen, clicking randomly in a few places, even opening a file. Finally, my roommate shook her head and reached out to hit the power button. However, pushing the button had no effect.

“You have to hold it longer. Or select ‘Shut Down’ from the ‘Start’ menu,” I offered helpfully.

“Agh. Windows!” came Melissa’s exasperated voice from Annie’s body.

She shut the computer down properly, picked up a small device I hadn’t noticed next to the keyboard, then spun around in the chair, scrutinizing the thing. “Well, that should have garnered some response, if there was a response to garner,” my roommate stated. “Nothing registered, so as I surmised, the entity must have escaped earlier.”

Melissa/Annie pocketed her device, then sighed. “Guess I’ll have to start interviewing Annie’s friends and professors then. Damn it, I hate campus interviews, people never take me seriously.”

I shrugged. “Looking like that, they might react differently,” I pointed out.

Melissa/Annie smirked. “Until I speak. Which is all I’d be doing over the phone. Anyway, I don’t want to get Annie into more trouble, and illusion is one of the annoying spells. You have to constantly maintain it on some level. Even in person, it’s not worth it.” As if to confirm that fact, after the next time I blinked, I saw the more diminutive Melissa was sitting in front of me again.

“Okay, well, I could help you, if you like,” I found myself saying. I couldn’t tell if I’d spoken out of a desire to help Melissa, help Annie, or simply learn more about what was really going on.

Melissa fired off a smile. “You wouldn’t know the right questions to ask, and I suspect you’d want me to explain them to you if you heard me ask them. However, if you are keen on helping… I suspect I’ll be needing a orb of hex by morning. If I give you the address, could you pick that up for me? The store is my regular supplier, tell the owner to put it on my tab. Is that all right?”

I agreed. It didn’t seem like it would be that much of a problem.

-

At this point, I could go into certain details. I could explain how much difficulty I had in finding the shop in question, half hidden as it was atop a bookstore. I could tell you about all the very strange objects that I saw inside said shop, as if that school in ‘Harry Potter’ had decided to have a yard sale. I could even remark on the odd appearance of the white haired owner named Alicia, or go in detail about the little lecture she gave me about Melissa needing to pay her bills on time, before she handed over the orb of hex. Which, incidentally, she said has some connection to hexadecimal numbers.

But I believe I shall postpone on saying any more than I have already. After all, it’s not immediately relevant to this case, and I suspect I’ll end up back in that store at some point in the future.

Arriving back at our apartment after that trip, and not finding Melissa, I left her orb on the desk and took my laptop over to Adam’s place. He’s another first year student like me, who was in a couple of my classes. He didn’t have a problem with me leaving the computer there. In fact, we’d originally planned to get together to do a bit of homework, and we ended up going out for a bite to eat afterwards, so it wasn’t until well after 9 o’clock that I made it back home.

There was a gentle rain falling outside. The room itself was dark when I opened the door, so I reached out for the light switch.

“FREEZE!” came Melissa’s voice from the darkness.

I froze. It seemed the prudent course of action, given her tone. In other words, the one that makes you obey without thinking.

The front door swung shut behind me, and all was darkness.

“No lights,” came Melissa’s voice yet again. My eyes began to adjust, but I couldn’t see exactly where she was.

“What’s going on?” I asked, lowering my hand from the switch. I realized I was whispering.

“It’s outside,” Melissa muttered. Her voice seemed to be coming from behind her desk, so I headed in that direction.

“What is?” I murmured back. I managed to avoid bumping into anything as I rounded the desk, which was when a brief flash of lightning outside reminded me of the events of earlier today. Electronic entities. “You mean the thing tracking Annie?”

“Mmmm,” Melissa said as a form of agreement. I finally spotted her, sitting cross legged on the floor, staring down at a sheet of paper. “Didn’t you notice the streetlights had shorted out on our side of the street?” she added.

I blinked. “I thought that was just part of the rainstorm,” I said sheepishly.

Melissa looked up. “Much like the campus had a small earthquake earlier this month. No, this entity’s definitely after Annie - she’s in your room resting, by the way. The woman had every phone within a block radius suddenly ringing not two hours ago. Then a soda machine fired cans at her, a traffic light switched over while she was in the intersection, and finally there were electrical discharges from light fixtures pursuing her all the way here. Shorting out the streetlights.”

“Oh. Oh my,” I said, moving to glance nervously out the window. At present, it looked like all the houses on our street still had power, despite the problem with the streetlights. That probably should have tipped me off. I wondered where the thing was lurking. “How is Annie coping?”

“Resting, as I said,” Melissa replied distractedly, her tone suggesting to me that the mental state of our house guest had probably never entered her mind. She’d probably hustled Annie into my room and then started doing her pencil scribblings out here. Shaking my head, I switched gears.

“Okay, so, ringing phones - it can get into those now?”

“Apparently. It’s strength is growing exponentially.”

“Great. Is there any chance it has the power to destroy this building to get at Annie indirectly?”

“No. Not yet, anyway,” Melissa murmured. “See, I’ve isolated our apartment by unplugging every type of electrical device and setting up a ward. In return, our entity is being patient, reasoning that eventually Annie’ll have to leave here or plug in a hairdryer or something. I figure I have a couple of hours before it decides to escalate, and it will likely try to gain access through one of the neighbouring apartments first.”

“Perfect.” A thought struck me. “Did you unplug our fridge?”

“I unplugged everything.”

“I had ice cream in the freezer…”

Melissa rose. “Actually James, it’s a good thing you’re here. I’m stuck on something and could use a male opinion.”

I furrowed my brow. “Oh yes? About what, that family tree thing you’ve been looking at?” I gestured at the paper on the floor, my eyes having adjusted to the darkness by now.

“No, about an interview from this afternoon.” Melissa began pacing back and forth. “It was with an ex-boyfriend of Annie’s. Interestingly, she didn’t have him on her original list, I got the name from a mutual friend.”

“An ex… then you think he’s the one behind the attacks!”

Her head shook. “Not directly.”

I tried coming at the situation from the other side. “Then could Annie be evil, like Dan was, and setting this guy up? Hoping he’ll get in trouble for hurting her??”

There was a pause, as Melissa stopped pacing two steps away, then slowly turned around. Even in the dark, I could tell she was smiling at me.

“You know,” she said in amusement, “it might work better if I describe to you my conversation with this gentleman, before you theorize?”

I pulled at the collar of my shirt. “Uhm, yeah,” I agreed. “Go for it.”

-

His name was Frank Granges. He was in third year, like Annie, and Melissa had learned from this mutual friend of theirs (someone on Annie’s list) that they’d met back in first year. They’d dated for over twelve months, broken things off rather abruptly last May, and hadn’t spoken much in the four months since. Upon reflection, Melissa had elected to go see him in person, rather than simply call him on the phone.

“Yes?” Frank said warily, eyeing Melissa from behind his half closed door.

“Hello!” Melissa replied, smiling. “I’ve come to talk to you about Annie. Annie Potts,” she clarified, off his look of confusion.

“About…” His face clouded. “There’s not much I can tell you. We run into each other once a week because we attend the same class, outside of that we don’t speak these days. Why, what’s the problem?”

“Someone’s trying to kill her,” Melissa said bluntly.

She watched as expressions of shock, amusement and concern all fought for control of Frank’s features. Concern quickly won out. “All right, come in,” he decided, pulling the door open completely. Melissa walked in.

Frank’s off-campus place itself wasn’t very large - reminiscent of a suite in a hotel, minus the minibar, Melissa said in an attempt to describe it. She also said that the bedroom door was slightly ajar, and that in the bedroom she could see a computer had been set up. Frank himself was of average build and height, brown hair, glasses, wearing a T-shirt and dress pants.

“So,” Melissa began, glancing idly around the apartment. “You broke up with Annie last May?”

He hesitated. “Well, it might be more accurate to say she broke things off with me in April, then waited around until May to officially end the relationship,” Frank corrected. “But then, she’s a non-confrontational type. I don’t hate her, and I wouldn’t try to kill her. So cross me off your list of suspects.”

“If not you, any idea who would?” Melissa questioned.

Frank hesitated longer, moving to look out the window. “Not really,” he said at last. “She could be dating again for all I know… have you checked with any current boyfriends? They’d know more than me.” He turned back. “For that matter, who are you anyway? Are you with the police?”

“No.”

“I thought not. The blouse didn’t look regulation. Annie has a new circle of friends?”

“Hardly relevant. Tell me, how long has Annie been interested in the supernatural?”

Frank frowned. “She hasn’t been. I mean, aside from herbal remedies and the like, which I think is a family thing. Is Annie into the supernatural now?”

“What about computers, how long has Annie been into those?"

“She’s not into them, in fact she doesn’t like technology. She doesn’t avoid it though, everyone has to be at least a bit tech savvy these days. But she’s majoring in biology, like me… hey, surely if you know her, you know all this?” He glared. “Are you actually serious? About Annie’s life being in danger?”

“I wish people would stop asking me if I’m serious about things,” Melissa sighed, folding her arms across her chest. “Why would I bother making this sort of thing up?”

“I don’t know. But cruel pranks are popular on campus these days,” Frank pointed out. “Also, based on what you’ve asked so far, I’m half expecting you to tell me that the person trying to kill Annie is acting like an evil spell caster from a computer game.”

“Something like that, yes,” Melissa agreed. (Have I mentioned she doesn’t always recognize sarcasm?) “Do you do much computer programming yourself?”

Frank was, I believe, too dumbfounded to do anything but answer. “Er, it’s a hobby… has anyone ever told you that you need to work on your people skills?”

“Have you ever done computer programming for Annie?” Melissa pressed.

“No. You’re losing me here,” Frank added, exasperation creeping into his tone.

“Fine. The problem is that there’s a computer file out there that knows a lot of personal details about Annie,” Melissa stated. “The sort of file that someone in a relationship with her might know of. I’m tracking it’s origins.”

“You’re tracking a computer file on… oh. I see,” Frank replied, suddenly going quiet. He also, Melissa told me, looked uncomfortable.

“Would you happen to know of such a file then?” Melissa asked pointedly.

“Oh, well… I might’ve known of one?” Frank said uncertainly.

“Aha! So, you keep computer files on all your former girlfriends then,” Melissa decided. “Pictures too?”

“What?? Whoa, wait, back the pumpkin up!” Frank protested. “First of all, I am NOT some crazy stalker person who keeps computer files on girlfriends. Or any other kind of person! I mean, sure, I have this nasty habit of archiving all my email, but who doesn’t? Second of all, Annie was only my third girlfriend! And thirdly, well… thirdly, there wouldn’t be a file on Annie at all if I’d only had a clue as to why we broke up in the first place,” he grumbled.

There was a brief pause. Melissa folded her arms again. “Oh yes?” she said at last, deciding Frank needed a little more prodding.

A VIRGA MYSTERY Net Worth: Entry 2b

I know now that much of her doings while on a case seem fickle (even whimsical) at the moment, but that they usually have a longer game in mind. She is apt not to divulge her full set of thinkings to me (be they mystery or magical) and thus they can appear to be random decisions.

…Unless of course, they are random decisions.

I will leave it up to the judgment of the reader as to whether or not the following occurrence was the former or the later.

With Annie’s keys still in hand, Melissa and I marched quickly to our destination. Conversation faltered, not because of awkwardness, but from Melissa’s sudden disinterest in it. The petite brunette seemed suddenly deep in thought, possibly about the malfeasant machinations ahead of us. For an entire block or two of walking, it seemed to me that she had forgotten that I existed. We trekked on.

…And then on still.

It was only September then, and admittedly I was still getting my bearings straight on campus. I had been so busy with my own studies, not to mention dealing with the surprises that living with Melissa brought, that I had simply not had time to explore my surroundings to the extent that I would have liked. It was for this reason that I did not exactly know which part Annie could have possibly come from. This is why no red flags were initially raised.

We took a path I was unfamiliar with, and though my surroundings were new I thought nothing of it. Then we kept walking… and kept walking. Distracted by Melissa’s beauty I did not fully realize that we had left the campus until we were a good block away. We weren’t going to Annie’s room at all. Melissa had other things in mind.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“151”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“Where does Annie live?” I asked while the small framed brunette kept a faster pace than me.

“There is someplace we must stop first,” she said, “It’s important to the case, I’ll need your capable memory for this one James.”

I’ll admit that I did not mind the compliment.

So, we continued on, and as the old stonework of the university faded out into the more modern concrete walls of its neighbors the sun began to bleed out as it gave way to sunset.

Our silence was companionable, though I still had many questions for Melissa. How was magic produced through wire? Could evil travel by WIFI? I even dared to joke about a firmware update for evil intruders, but by the time I had gathered the courage to say something we were at our destination.

The coffee shop that we had come to was like a pimple on an otherwise pristine face. The shops surrounding it were chic, modern and new. Their full glass storefronts were lit by LED fixtures and were very inviting. The cafe, however, seemed somehow older than our very own university. Its brick structure was covered in soot as if the streets were still full of steam-powered locomotion. The windows were of a thick green glass seemed more fit for a pirate ship. If I did not see the large neon sign outside of it that read “cafe”, I would have mistaken it for a seedy Victorian era pub.

Melissa paused before the door and turned to me, her green eyes wide and serious. “James,” she said, “it is very important this man we are about to speak to does not know of our dealings with Annie.” She put Annie’s keys into her back pocket then. “Under no circumstances must he know that his case is related.” I nodded my understanding, and she breached the door.

The interior of the cafe was no less old than the outside. The newest electrical fixture, save for maybe the barista’s cash register, was an Edison bulb that may very well have been actually made by Edison. A handwritten sign posted to the back of the wall read:

sorry, no WIFI :(

In the very back of the cafe was a man at least a decade older than Melissa and I. My first impression of him was that there was nothing remarkable about him. My impression of him after the meeting was the same. He was average looking, wearing an unassuming collard shirt, and had nothing about himself that would cause him to stand out amongst a crowd. Before we could sit down at his table, a barista placed a large mug of coffee and a shaker filled with cinnamon opposite side of the man, near an empty spot on the table. Melissa sat there and thanked the barista. She must have known that we were coming. Was Melissa a regular here?

The man stood up as Melissa sat, preparing to introduce himself, then awkwardly sat back down. “Um, Hello,” said the man, “My name is Malcolm Steadman,” said Malcolm.

“What can I help you with Malcolm?” Melissa responded.

“Well,” continued Malcolm, “I have this toaster.”

Melissa began pouring cinnamon into her large mug of coffee, “Get this down James,” she said as the red powder fell from its shaker.

“I have this toaster,” Malcolm repeated, “I quite like it, it was a gift that was given to me when I was uh, your age and I have been using it diligently for the past decade…”

Melissa nodded, her green eyes fixed on his. The cinnamon kept pouring.

“…Well ah, this Toaster of mine, I used it the other day when something peculiar happened.”

I wanted to quip about the toaster becoming alive when I suddenly remembered my previous attempts at joking with Annie about her own problems failing. I kept quiet. Melissa seemed undaunted by the sheer amount of cinnamon still being poured into her mug.

Malcolm cleared his throat, then continued on. “…Something peculiar happened. I popped in some toast while getting ready for work when it stopped working.”

“No!” Melissa said with genuine concern. “James! Get this down!” There was now an obscene amount of cinnamon in her coffee.

“Yes!” Malcolm cried, “The toaster stopped working! It was no big deal, at that moment but it got me thinking… It got me thinking about entropy."

Melissa shifted her weight at that last word. Confused as I was, I could at least infer that the last bit was important. There seemed to be no end to the amount of cinnamon Melissa was using.

“So it got me thinking about entropy,” Malcolm stated, “and how everything in this universe, everything has its end. EVEN THE UNIVERSE! Can you imagine that? Can you fully comprehend the weight of everything ending? The slow march of time eating away everything beautiful and pleasant, eating away at all of mankind’s accomplishments and trials, leaving nothing in its wake? Can you fully picture that not even our great pyramids will survive the heat death of the universe? Far far before even our own world burns out there will be not a speck left to commemorate the human race. This will all be for naught. At that moment, in that single moment when my toaster did not pop I saw the whole of creation slowly eaten away by entropy, a monster made of indifference. Not even cruelty or evil or malice. Indifference.”

Malcolm seemed drained then. His hands were sweaty, his eyes pin holed. He looked like a man that had just survive the entirety of the Vietnam war in seconds.

…It was ridiculous.

Melissa stirred her coffee then, a mixture I am sure was more mud than liquid. “How terrible!” she said.

“Yes,” Malcolm agreed, “It ruined my day. I was caught in a nihilistic fervor with a side of existential terror and all I could think about for the rest of that day was how everyone and everything around me was not just temporary, but infinitesimally unimportant and fleeting.”

Melissa placed her head between both of her hands as she leaned in closer. “Then what happened?” she asked.

“Oh, well then I got home and discovered that my toaster was unplugged,” said Malcolm. “It wasn’t even broken, just unplugged. I had made a big deal out of nothing.”

“I see…” said Melissa. “Was this the only time toast gave you any problems?”

I will admit that by that point I was incredulous to Melissa’s question. There was no way that this was important. But judging by Melissa’s body language and the genuine terror that leapt from Malcolm’s eyes, I kept my protestations to myself.

Malcolm’s voice became small, “No,” he said in a near whisper before finding his courage. “I didn’t even tell you about the time I burnt some.”

Melissa turned to me then, “Are you getting this down James?” and set her attention back to Malcolm before I could answer. She drank her “coffee”.

“How is this important?!” I blurted, now at the end of my patience.

“How is this important?” Melissa parroted, “We are talking about entropy James! The very killer of all things! The great equalizer that not even reality can escape! WHAT IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN ENTROPY?!!” Her’s was a naked rage. I mumbled an apology.

Just as quickly as her mood turned to fusion, it changed back to pleasant. “Please, go on Malcolm,” she said.

Malcolm nodded. “I burnt my toast once. It was covered in black soot… No, it was covered in carbon. Carbon! Do you know how many billion years it took our raging dead stars to chug out carbon? Do you know how many countless stars it took to live and die in an uncaring universe for carbon to be spat out from their corpses?”

“Did you panic?” Melissa asked.

“Boy howdy did I!” Malcolm responded. “But it wasn’t the length of time that got me terrified, it was what we do with that potential that stunned me into silence. Do you know that broadcasts of Reality TV will outlast even our solar system? I was like… whoah.”

“Then what happened?”

“I ate my toast.”

Melissa stood then. “I’m sorry Mr. Steadman, but I’m afraid that I can be of no service to you.” She said with a hint of sorrow. “These eldritch horrors you speak of are far grander than even I can handle. I deal with the balance of the universe, but even I cannot fight off the unraveling of it. The universe uncoils even as I speak, and no amount of effort will stop it. The sad truth is that the good fight that I wage is not only an uphill one but a Sysephean task that can never be finished. Entropy will win out.”

She turned her back then and marched toward the door. I was easily ten steps behind her. Before she opened the door she looked at Malcolm and said: “You still owe me for the consultation.” And just like that, we were gone.

She was too far ahead of me now that we were outside. I ran back to her side. Before I could ask about our meeting Melissa stopped in her tracks.

“We have to find a hospital,” she said. “I’m allergic to cinnamon.”

.

^.^ APRIL FOOL ^.^

To see more of the character Malcolm’s existential issues, you should definitely check out that site. (And funny enough, Rev Fitz also wrote the Time & Tied Apr 1 update last year, for more of his writing.) To see the entry that Gregory Taylor wrote, visit the serial Shatterbrain, where in 2043, Sophie is learning things about her uncle the hard way. What new take will you find there?

For a full list of all the Swappers and their stories, check out the Web Fiction Guide Forums and/or the Serial Novel Advocacy Group at The Leaking Pen. Thanks for reading, and remember, the best way to support your favourite serial novelist is to tell all your friends about them!

A VIRGA MYSTERY Net Worth: Entry 2a

If I don’t pay her on time, she could turn me into a chicken. I don’t think that’s a joke.

Fortunately, for the sake of my humanity, the two of us hit it off not too badly. In other words, I began finding ways of dealing with Melissa’s odd quirks, while she, well… she continued not paying much attention to me. I wondered how long she’d been living alone.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

That’s the thing about Melissa, she prefers to spend her time inside her own private little world - a world which, by the way, allows her to violate some of the laws of physics. Perhaps that’s why she also piques the curiosity. Which leads into why, following the case involving Dan and Danielle, I began wondering just what other cases Melissa might end up working on.

Or what cases she’d taken on in the past.

It turned out that finding an answer by glancing over her papers and files was futile, mainly because any filing system itself seemed to be non-existent. When I scanned the stacks of paper on her desk one morning, a couple pages seemed to involve mathematical calculations, there were a few scrawlings in latin, some news clippings, notes containing mystical symbols, things written in unreadable shorthand, and what I gathered was a philosophy essay for one of her university classes.

There was also what I took at first to be a recipe for biscuits, until I read down to step five which stated “use mixture to lure poltergeist inside bottle”. I decided not to poke around inside her desk drawers, just in case.

Unfortunately, learning about Melissa’s cases by asking her about them directly didn’t seem prudent either. Mainly because I didn’t want Melissa to interpret that request as wanting more involvement. After all, there were still my first year university classes to worry about, and while I feel Melissa’s deeds should be credited, I was hardly going to commit myself towards her “balancing of supernatural forces on earth” crusade. Not at this point, anyway. In fact, twice in the evenings I saw our doorknob was fuchsia, and on those occasions, I didn’t enter the apartment.

Still… I was curious. To the point where there were days I started wondering if more involvement with someone as pretty as Melissa would really be such a bad thing, supernatural or otherwise. Please don’t judge me too harshly.

As such, when a female student came by the apartment late one afternoon (around the third week of September), looking for Melissa, I invited her in to wait. I even offered to make our visitor some tea, something which she took me up on. I wasn’t trying to flirt or anything (she looked like a senior), it’s more that, on some level, I sensed that she wanted to talk to someone. With the fringe benefit to me being my learning more about Melissa’s cases.

As we drank, I asked a few questions and learned the following: Her name was Annie Potts, she was in third year, she had consulted with Melissa already last week, and someone was trying to kill her.

This last point caught me off guard. I mean, as far as first impressions go, Annie didn’t seem like the sort of woman against whom you’d ever bear that much of a grudge.

A brief description is probably in order at this point, so I’ll say that Annie was tall (about six feet while in the heeled ankle boots she wore), had dark hair down to her shoulders, and that while she was not overly athletic looking, she certainly seemed well built. Her choice of attire was jeans and a T-shirt, her only notable accessory a red barrette holding back her bangs.

I also got the impression from looking into her eyes that it would be very unwise to ever get on her bad side, though as far as our conversation went she was pretty soft spoken.

“The thing is,” Annie explained to me, “there’s been a massive increase in the severity of the attacks. It’s gone beyond interfering in my schoolwork to downright creeping me out.”

“So why come to Melissa rather than go to the police?” I wondered.

Annie hesitated, uncrossed her legs, then recrossed them again the other way. “Well,” she admitted after a moment, “it’s that these attempts on my life, they’ve all been done… electronically.”

I frowned, putting my teacup back on the kitchen table. “You mean someone’s writing threatening email? Or is it that someone’s trying to electrocute you?”

“Neither,” Annie said, uneasily. “Or not exactly. For instance, when I turned on my home computer this morning, an incorporeal hand came out of the monitor and tried to pull me inside. Which sounds stupid, I know!” she went on quickly. “But it really happened. If I hadn’t managed to kick the power bar off with my foot, I’m not sure I’d even be here talking with you right now. And that’s not something I can tell the police.”

“Oh,” I answered, taking a moment to turn that around in my mind. Evil computers - not exactly the same thing as the Danielle case, so was it more typical of the things Melissa dealt with, or less so? “Well, I… I hope my roommate can help you,” I finished lamely. Where does one go after a story like that anyway?

An uncomfortable silence followed, during which time the two of us drank our tea.

“Look,” Annie said, rising at last. “If you can simply pass that message on to Melissa, I’ll come back later and–”

“Did someone mention my name?” Melissa said absently as she strolled into the apartment.

We both emerged from the kitchen. Melissa was holding a broom in one hand and scanning through the pages of a book in another. The book itself seemed normal, like something you’d read for an English class; the broom was the one Melissa normally kept in the closet. In fact, she put it back there and traveled around to the far side of her desk before looking up from her book quizzically.

“Er, we spoke last week,” Annie ventured. “Remember?” She appeared uncomfortable, either about her situation or Melissa’s demeanor, it was hard to tell.

Melissa, barely topping five feet, squinted up at Annie. “Yes. You were getting electrical shocks from all the computers on campus or something,” she replied. “Jolted you into a wall at one point. Hardly your typical static electric shock, hence talking to me.”

Annie let out a quick breath. “Yes,” she repeated back. “Well, you gave me that charm and said to come back if things got worse? It has. Gotten worse, I mean.” She outlined the experience with the hand she’d had earlier today, and added to it the fact that last night, her cat had been hissing at the computer. Which, Annie then recalled, had looked a little burnt around the ports at the back.

Melissa was quickly giving Annie her undivided attention. “Have you been near your computer since the incident?” the supernatural detective questioned, leaning forwards on the desk.

Annie shook her head. “I had to get to class this morning. After that I came right here.”

My roommate nodded. “Excellent. I recommend you don’t go back home then. Give me the key to your apartment. I’ll go, and I can pick you up a few things. Stay here tonight. I’ve got a spare room.” She started to gesture towards my bedroom, paused as she saw me, then snapped her fingers. “Well, I sort of have a spare room. It’s fine, with any luck I’ll get the case wrapped up within twenty-four hours. Annie can return back to her place then."

Annie looked back and forth between us, taking half a step back. “Oh, er… I don’t want to be a bother. Do you think it’s really that serious? Wait, what about Tabby, my cat, he’s at home, do you think he’s in any danger?”

Melissa shook her head. “Doubt it. You’re obviously the target here, Annie. The problem is that your residence has been traced. Hard to say where the entity will go from there… incidentally, I’ll need a list of anyone in the area who knows you particularly well, for questioning purposes.”

“A-All right,” Annie stammered out. “Should I still keep your charm with me? Will it help?” She fished an oddly shaped piece of metal out of her jeans pocket.

Melissa peered at the item in Annie’s hands, raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt,” she said, now rummaging around in her desk drawer. “Besides, no refunds.”

After a short time looking through two drawers, Melissa glanced back in my direction and mimed writing. Divining her intent, I went to grab a pencil.

“One more thing,” Melissa requested, looking back up at Annie. “Your cat, how long have you had it?”

“Him,” Annie corrected. “And I’ve had Tabby for three years now. My parents got him for me as a going away gift.”

“And have you ever had a cat before then?”

“Well, sure,” Annie said, seemingly unsure where Melissa was going with this. “Our family’s always had a cat or two. It’s why I could never have a place in residence, no pets allowed.”

“Mmmmm,” was Melissa’s only reply. She plucked the pencil from my hand as I approached, grabbed a page with what looked like a grocery list on it and, flipping it over, handed it to Annie. “Names,” she reiterated. “Include the name of any university professor you’ve had more than once, and phone numbers where I can reach everybody, if you have them. Oh, and jot down anything you want me to pick up for you tonight too.”

Annie dutifully began writing on the sheet. “I’m not sure this will really help,” she pointed out. “None of my friends go for this supernatural stuff… I mean, I probably wouldn’t have even come here myself if I weren’t desperate. How could any of them be behind the attacks?”

“Perhaps they were replaced by very lifelike robot duplicates who can now get technology to do their bidding, and they’re testing their skills out on you,” Melissa remarked.

Annie paused in her scribbling, looking up uncertainly.

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Kidding, duh. I do magic, not science fiction.”

“Uh. Right.” Annie resumed writing. “Is bringing my computer here an option? I’m supposed to type up an assignment for next week, and I’ll need a computer for that.”

“I doubt that’ll work,” Melissa said curtly.

“I’m sure your handwriting isn’t that that illegible," I quipped.

I failed to lighten the mood. Melissa ignored me, while Annie turned and gave me a little glare. Realizing I’d crossed the line with a comment on her penmanship (her list was a bit difficult to decipher, as it turned out), I decided to keep quiet as Annie exchanged final words with Melissa.

Melissa obtained Annie’s apartment key (like us, she lived off campus) and then bid our guest farewell. After watching Annie go, Melissa finally turned back towards me.

“James, you have a computer yourself, don’t you?”

I blinked and nodded. “A laptop, yes, not a tower. I use it for assignments mostly, though I also used it to type up your last case, the one with–”

“Shut it down. Don’t use it over the next couple days. Throw it out even, too risky to have it around here for very long.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. “Er, why?” I finally ventured as Melissa began stuffing some objects from her desk into her purse. “It did cost me a lot of money, you know.”

The petite brunette let out a quick sigh. “Because. Electronics, the internet, wires feeding into every home… the world wide web is a world wide nuisance if you ask me. Makes restoring supernatural balance just that much harder. Though, not your fault, of course, so maybe you could simply leave your laptop device with a friend overnight?”

She finished putting things away and reached out for Annie’s key, accidentally knocking it off the front of the desk. In moving around to pick it up, she managed a hip wiggle in the process. I wondered if she was trying to distract me, despite how the move seemed unintentional. She seemed to be wearing her tightest pair of jeans.

“I… I’ll see,” I said, lamely. “I guess witches aren’t keen on computers?” It might explain Melissa’s lack of a filing system.

Melissa spun back around, flicking some hair off her shoulder. “The new fangled techno-witches swear by them, but let’s not get into THAT discussion. Hey, how much do you know about computers anyway?"

I pulled my gaze back to her face. “Oh, um, enough to get by?”

“Then you’re welcome to come along too,” Melissa concluded with a smile. Annie’s key in hand, she marched to our apartment door before turning to meet my gaze again. “After all, I’ve never been too good with the damn things. Plus you should probably know why you’re giving up your bed tonight to a complete stranger. Let’s go.”

“Okay, but I’m hardly majoring in– wait, MY bed? Melissa, what do you… Melissa!"

She was already out of the apartment and I had to run in order to catch up.

-

The internet, Melissa explained to me as we walked to Annie Potts' place, is a fertile breeding ground for evil. “Not just because entities can use it to manipulate the downtrodden, the desperate and the general lowlifes of society either,” the brunette insisted. “The real problem happens when evils that normally only lurk on the fringes of our realm catch sight of it. This whole web thing, it lights the way for them, provides them with a gateway to Earth.”

“A… gateway? You mean, what, evil is constantly entering our world through the internet?”

“Well, sure,” Melissa said airily, gesturing vaguely at me. “Understand that spectres and entities have been trying to hook themselves into our plane of existence for decades. Now the internet makes it a hundred times easier for them to do that. You think all bots or whatever have a human at the other end? Fortunately for us, the evil has to morph itself into a data stream if it wants to directly affect the real world, and most of the time it can’t survive in that form for more than a millisecond. Its bits get all corrupted, which kills it.” She paused in mid-step. “Kind of an irony there, actually.”

I considered asking how techno-witches fit into this, but given Melissa’s earlier attitude, went for what I presumed was the safer question of, “So is this part of the supernatural imbalance that you’re trying to fix?”

Melissa shrugged and continued walking. “Humans create faster ways of communicating, they allow for faster ways of spreading evil. The supernatural balance hasn’t been broken here, it’s just the ten gram weights have been replaced with hundred kilogram ones. Who am I to stand in the way of such stupidi– I mean, progress?”

I frowned. “Okay, but then… if the electronics aren’t what’s causing your problem…”

“They nevertheless make it harder to pinpoint exactly where the unbalancing is occurring,” Melissa stated matter-of-factly. “Instead of searching for a needle in a haystack, you end up searching all of Saskatchewan. Honestly James, do try to keep up.”

“No, yes, I get that,” I breathed, managing to keep pace with her mentally, if not quite as well physically. For a short woman, Melissa can walk fast when she wants to. “It’s just… if the web itself isn’t the problem… where did this thing attacking Annie come from?”

Melissa pursed her lips. “THAT is a good question,” she admitted, stopping abruptly once again. I nearly smacked into her, and took a half step back, only to have to almost jog when I realized she’d immediately started walking again.

“Thing is, any random evil that the net generates for balancing purposes should have been deflected away by that little grounding charm I gave Annie,” Melissa continued. “Yet this entity seems to have become specifically attached to her. It had to have help in order to do that. Presumably by someone who knows, or knew her."

“Ah! Hence the list of names,” I deduced.

“Right,” Melissa affirmed. “The person wouldn’t even have to know anything about computers, just how to do a basic summoning. Or then again, they may know enough about computers to actually turn themselves into a malevolent digital entity. Or somewhere in between. Either way, I want to deal with this fast, before the thing hooks itself into other appliances and causes innocent people to get hurt in the crossfire.”

“Oh. Uh, you figure that’s possible?” I worried. I fired off a wan smile at a couple of people waiting at a bus stop as we passed. One of them had been raising their eyebrows. Melissa, of course, seemed all but oblivious to anyone else in the area.

“There’s always a chance,” she answered simply.

I guessed that’s why she was worried about my laptop. I considered the greater implications in my head for the rest of our walk, noting with some unease the number of devices in the area that involved electricity in some way. If someone got control of a traffic light, for example, it could cause real trouble!

I hoped the solution to all this would be found at Annie’s place.

To Virga - Entry 2b -->

A VIRGA MYSTERY The Invisible Girl: Entry 1d

“So, you figured that much out, did you?” he retorted. “Damn. You’re better at your work than others give you credit for. It was your last question of me on Friday that gave it away, I suppose?”

“It confirmed my suspicions,” Melissa acknowledged. “But even so, there were lots of little things I’d wondered about before. For instance, why such a vague description of Danielle to me that first time? You didn’t even mention her glasses, yet you could provide information about her nail polish when asked. And why would Danielle have a name so close to your own in the first place? It made me question what might be closer to the truth… a reasonably good looking boy creating a shy young girl to have someone to play with… or a shy young GIRL creating a tall, handsome man to help her feel safe.”

I looked from Melissa to Dan to Danielle. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I heard myself say. “You mean Dan is imaginary?”

“Right,” Dan grunted, seemingly more to Melissa than me. “So when you asked about my first bully, and I couldn’t answer…"

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“Yes, well, even setting aside your lacklustre attitude through this case, and the way you seemed to base that answer on what would win me my bet… anyone with a memory for nail polish and blue blankets should have had a better recollection of their first tormentors. Unless, of course, the tormentee hadn’t existed yet, at that point in time. Those blue blankets, they really were Danielle’s, I presume.”

“I… I don’t understand,” Danielle murmured. “What’s she talking about, Dan?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “She means you’re real, dope. I centred in on you a long time ago, not that I’ve ever let you remember.” He smiled nastily. “You were the invisible girl, Danielle. The girl no one ever noticed. After appearing in the guise of your imaginary friend a few times, it was easy enough to switch places with you. My only concern was your parents, but it wasn’t hard to convert their minds. They’d always expected a son, blue blankets and all.”

“Hold on,” I cut in. “Does that mean that if Danielle becomes real again, Dan returns to… where, exactly?"

“The other side,” Melissa remarked. “Supernatural balance. Of course, this exchange shouldn’t have been possible in the first place, not without Danielle’s permission.”

Dan grimaced. “I should have simply eliminated the girl when I had the chance,” he grumbled. “If only her etherial form and childish nature hadn’t been so useful to me… and now I’ve been a human for so long, I can’t do the required magick to take care of things myself. So I gambled on being able to manipulate your agency. Still, I’ll be damned before I let anyone take me down after all this time!”

He lunged for Melissa then, but I think she’d been anticipating that, as she easily dodged to the side. Her size helped to make her a small target. I barely got out of the way myself, before Dan was at the door. I figured on him charging through, maybe locking us in, but instead he grabbed the block of wood Melissa had used to keep the door open. He heaved it back towards one of the upright mirrors.

Of course. If any of the mirrors were shattered, this realism ritual was toast.

“Declino!” Melissa cried out, extending her palm.

There was a small flash of light and the wood spun off course, smashing the overhead lightbulb instead. (Declino meaning essentially ‘deflect’, by the way. Like Melissa’s last name, “Virga”, she draws spells from the latin.) The door, no longer being propped open, now clanged shut.

Then Melissa’s flashlight clicked off, and the room went dark. If there was another light source, I hadn’t seen it. So, Dan was still in there with us. Ready to attack. Except, for right now no one was moving - it was taking all of our eyes a moment to adjust.

“He’s sizing me up,” I heard Melissa whisper during that moment. I jumped. It sounded as if she was leaning in right next to my ear, but when I put my arm out, it encountered nothing but air.

“James, I’m talking to you using a form of ventriloquism, so there’s no point whispering back,” she continued, as if reading my mind. “But listen very carefully to what I say next.”

Melissa began to speak a lot faster, yet still in hushed tones. “I can’t attack Dan directly while he’s in a human form, because I’d be forcing magick on him and would thus suffer consequences myself,” she explained. “There are related issues with casting on myself. So, Plan A, I’d like your permission to give you a quick burst of strength for about 10 seconds. That should allow you to take Dan out. Call out if you accept this!”

I was still trying to process that, when I heard Dan make his move just off to my right. Meaning no time to ask about Plan B. Fine, what the hell, you only live once, right? Besides, it may be that a part of me figured I had to do something to make it feel like the night hadn’t been a total wash.

“I accept,” I called out, jumping to intercept Dan.

“Convalesco!” Melissa shouted just before Dan plowed into me. (Another crude translation for you is ‘to gain strength’… personally, I’m now thinking I should pick up latin as an elective course.)

Anyway, Dan struck me, and more or less rebounded. Stumbling a bit myself, I heard an exclamation of surprise. To Dan’s credit, he not only stayed on his feet, when I next jabbed at him in the face, he must have seen my hand coming up because he was able to dodge back.

The next thing I knew, Dan’s fist connected with my gut, and I doubled over, falling to the ground, the wind knocked out of me. Great, whatever strength I’d received didn’t last long, I thought. But even on the floor I didn’t immediately give up, moving to sweep my leg out, in an attempt to take Dan down.

I put all the force I had into that move, knowing it would probably be my only chance, and to my surprise, when I connected with Dan’s lower legs it was like he’d been whacked with an iron bar. Whereas I hardly felt anything at all. He collapsed to the ground with a shout of surprise and I heard a thwacking noise as his head hit the floor, as he had not had enough time to break his fall.

“I’m still strong,” I blurted out in surprise. And then just like that, I knew I wasn’t, as the dull ache in my gut became an explosion of pain. I’m pretty sure I groaned.

Melissa’s flashlight clicked back on, illuminating both me and Dan’s unconscious form. “Knee jerk reaction of your body to fold when hit,” she observed matter-of-factly. “Just because you have increased strength, doesn’t mean you can disregard your natural instincts. Or your need to breathe. Still, you got the job done, that’s good. Now, can you help me with this mirror?”

“Geez, you’re welcome,” I wheezed back sarcastically, clutching at my sides.

She blinked at me with her gorgeous, yet at that point quite uncompassionate, green eyes. “You’ll be in a lot more pain in 56 seconds if we don’t get this mirror repositioned,” Melissa said after a few more moments of staring.

I blinked at her, then to where she was gesturing, namely where the timer was still counting down on the natural gas pipes. “Oh heck,” I groaned, stumbling to my feet.

“Danielle, where exactly does this need to be?” the brunette detective asked, turning the one mirror away from the wall. The short blonde didn’t respond, and I saw now that she had simply sat herself down on the floor mirror and was staring vacantly into space.

“This was meant to be a surprise… for our mutual birthdays…” Danielle murmured abstractedly. “And now… well, no wonder we have the same birthday…”

“Danielle?” I called out to her, even as I moved to help Melissa.

“Never mind, lost cause,” Melissa sighed. “She’ll get a good chunk of her memory back though, after the transition. Anyway, pretty sure I can figure out where this needs to be…”

“Pretty sure? Melissa, isn’t the fate of the physics building, not to mention our very lives, hanging on the line here?!”

“Panic isn’t helpful, James. Now, help me shift the glass a bit this way, and angle it thusly,” she replied calmly (obliviously??), after training her flashlight beam around the room. She then moved next to the timing device (27… 26… 25…) shining the light onto the mirror in question.

The angle was such that the beam reflected down onto the mirror beneath Danielle, back up to the second upright mirror, and then, seemingly impossibly, back to where the light was striking the first mirror. Like a bizarre never-ending triangle had been created - the glass on one mirror must have been warped in some way.

“Good enough,” Melissa decided. She scooped her purse back up and pulled out a necklace of some sort, which then she pulled over Dan’s head.

“Banishing amulet?” I wondered.

“Exiling spell,” Melissa said. “Cheaper, even if at sixty-three dollars, it still puts me in the red. But what can you do? Now let’s get out.”

The last she said in her firm, no-nonsense tone, so I was backtracking even before I noticed the timing device ticking down past 7 seconds. Melissa was hot on my heels, all the while chanting something in Latin which was pretty incomprehensible - I won’t bother to reproduce it.

I got to the door, we both charged through, and Melissa concluded her spell by spinning back towards the doorway, throwing out her arms in some mystic gesture. At that point I heard clearly, “Die dulci fruere!” (You can look that one up yourself.)

The papers Melissa had placed around the frame lit up with a bright glow just as the explosion went off. The door, which had been swinging closed again, was jarred off it’s hinges by the force of the blast, tongues of flame licking out from around the metal.

A few of Melissa’s paper wards caught fire. In fact, I could feel the whole building shake, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I probably screamed.

Then just like that, it was over.

Scorch marks were visible all around the remains of the doorway, and in fact when the little pieces of paper ceased their glowing, the smoking door itself collapsed right down onto the floor in front of me. As Melissa would have, had I not reacted quickly to catch her.

“Melissa! Are you all right?” I cried out.

She resembled a long distance runner who had just completed the marathon in record time. Her eyes were closed, she was breathing hard and there was a sheen of sweat causing some errant strands of hair to stick to her face in a bizarrely erotic manner. (Again, the sort of thing that would have worked better under different circumstances… I suppose you’ve gathered by now that I seem to have developed a bit of a crush on her.)

Melissa’s eyelids flickered open. “Geez, what in the devil did she use for the explosive?” the mystic detective muttered. “Containment spells shouldn’t be so hard to control.” With my help, she got back on her feet.

I was soon distracted by a quiet coughing, as Danielle stumbled out of the destroyed room. Her dress was in tatters, her glasses askew, and a bit of flying glass had apparently caught her in the arm - oh yes, the mirrors turned out to be quite destroyed - but otherwise she seemed none the worse for wear.

Danielle collapsed back against the wall. “I… I feel… I feel real again,” she murmured in a daze.

“You ARE real,” Melissa assured Danielle, wiping her arm across her own forehead. “Always were. What Dan took from you has been returned. In fact, no one outside of this limited area will even be aware of the switch back. You can live your life as if none of this had ever happened. Though there may be some questions as to how a female managed to get placed into the all male wing of a dorm.”

“Oh,” Danielle murmured quietly. Her brow furrowed. “Is that why I remember what he did now? That is, it feels like… like I did what he did. That is, everything he’s done since we were in grade school, I’ve done… that is…” She raised a hand to the side of her head. “I-I’ll need some time to figure this out…”

I peered back towards the scorched room, but didn’t see anyone else visible amid the carnage. “And Dan?” I mused aloud.

“He’s become spiritual again,” Melissa said absently as she set about retrieving the few mystic papers that remained undamaged. I wasn’t sure if it was so they could be reused, or simply to not have evidence of the supernatural lying around. “I’d have liked to banish him permanently, but the exiling spell - activated by his transition to a non-corporeal form - will at least keep him out of our realm for years,” Melissa explained. “If not decades. After all, nullifying it requires intelligence, and he didn’t seem to have too much of that.”

Danielle gave me an uncertain look, the confusion of her situation obviously becoming too much for her. I decided an explanation wouldn’t be of any help. “Let’s get your arm looked at, then you can go lie down,” I suggested to the blonde, venturing a reassuring smile.

“The sooner the better,” Melissa agreed, turning back to both of us. “After all, this building could still blow sky high. James, could you phone someone and tell them that there’s a natural gas leak here in the basement?”

“A… what?” I retorted. “But… your papers, the spell…”

“A containment spell won’t shut off a gas line, it just temporarily seals a room,” Melissa shot back, rolling her eyes. “The pipes themselves are now dangerously compromised. So, are you going to call it in, or will I?”

I think at this point I was opening and closing my mouth randomly, prompting Melissa’s sigh of, “Fine, I will. I suppose I would have anyway, if you hadn’t come along. Now, both of you, hurry up and get out of here!”

She physically pushed me and Danielle out towards the stairs. At that point our instincts took over, and we rushed outside. Once there, I turned around to say something else to my roommate, but she had already hurried off to parts unknown. Presumably to make the phone call.

-

There isn’t much more to tell, really.

I got Danielle to the campus centre for her arm, and when she arrived back at ‘her’ dorm, she found a room transfer notification on her door. I asked Melissa about this, and whether we should be doing something more for Danielle, but Melissa considered this case closed. Reality was just reasserting itself based on the supernatural events that had occurred, she explained idly. As to the explosion, the campus newspaper headlines read ‘small earthquake causes natural gas leak’, and it barely made local news.

That’s actually part of the reason I asked Melissa for permission to write this all down. It feels like there should be a record of what really happened somewhere.

Now, I’m not certain if I’ve done this case justice - in fact, I’m fairly sure I haven’t - but perhaps I’ll improve on that in time. If you’re willing to keep reading. I am only a first year student, after all. And, unless I want to become a chicken instead, I’m stuck rooming with Melissa too. At least her cases seem liable to be just as interesting as they are strange!

END CASE 1

A VIRGA MYSTERY The Invisible Girl: Entry 1c

It took me a moment to find my voice. “All right, wait, hold on, did I hear you right? Are you saying there’s some sort of bomb in the physics building that’s going to go off this weekend??”

Melissa nodded. “Probably in the evening on Saturday. Or rather, this evening, seeing as I guess it’s already early Saturday morning.”

“And you’re OKAY with that?” I demanded. I was incredulous.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“Of course not,” she sighed back. “Given your good memory, I’ll have to assume you weren’t listening. I DID say that altering the new residence plans and moving physics into engineering wasn’t an ideal situation.”

“But… but you told Dan we had too many buildings. And you didn’t want Danielle to tell you where this device was. Or even what she’d set the timer for!”

“Of course not. Not with Dan standing right there with us,” Melissa replied, saying it as if her reasoning was the most obvious thing in the universe.

She raised her arms over her head and stretched, an action which might have otherwise caused my gaze to wander, but I was so mixed up after what she’d been telling me that, at the time, I hardly noticed.

“I might as well go to bed,” my roommate concluded, lowering her arms again and rising from her chair. “Again, let me know if you hear anything about amulets, would you? Once your hearing improves? Though the point will be moot by about six o’clock this evening.”

“No. Melissa, you just stop right there,” I objected. “You can’t leave me hanging this way… what are you going to do about this situation? How will the amulet help? For that matter, what was the point to your question about Dan’s first tormentor?”

Melissa lifted an eyebrow. Then she smiled. “I like you, James. You’re not dismissive, you assume there’s method to my madness. And to be sure, there is.” She then waggled her finger at me. “But how do you ever expect to develop your problem solving skills if I simply give you all the answers? Anyway, I’m not a hundred percent sure about how it’s all going to wrap up, and I’d hate to look like a fool on the first case you’re witnessing. So sleep on it. Tell me what you think in the morning.”

With that, she retired to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Feeling thoroughly exasperated, but not sure what else to do at this point, I turned off the office light and stumbled back into my own room. I glanced at my clock by the nightstand in passing. It was after three.

“Why did I let my curiosity get the better of me?” I recall groaning to myself. Surely any sane person wouldn’t have taken Melissa’s bait, no matter how pretty her smile was.

It must have taken me at least a half hour to fall asleep again.

-

Melissa was already gone by the time I woke up Saturday morning. (I slept in, no surprise there.) So I made myself some breakfast and tried to get some work done on one of my first university assignments.

However, my mind kept coming back to Dan, Danielle, and most of all, Melissa. What was the story with this case of hers? Ridiculous or not, it nagged at me. So, with the help of my memory, I sketched out some of the main points of the conversation from the previous night. Trying to understand where Melissa’s logic had been coming from.

I couldn’t make any sense of it. (Well, at least those notes proved useful for writing up this case.)

Exasperated, I tried approaching the conversation from Dan’s point of view, instead of Melissa’s. There, at last, I clicked into something. He really did know an awful lot about Danielle. He knew which of his friends she’d spoken to, had known of her goal to become real, knew how she’d planned on doing it, he even knew about the colour of her nail polish… yet he hadn’t seemed to know a thing about the actual setting of the explosives and the use of a timer device.

Why had that caught him off guard?

Danielle had often looked towards Dan before answering too, something Melissa had picked up on. Near the end, the supernatural detective had even asked Danielle not to think about his reaction. Could it be that Dan was still controlling her somehow? My pencil began tapping on the page.

See if you can follow my reasoning. Suppose that you have an imaginary friend who suddenly becomes real. Suppose further that he or she isn’t a mischievous spirit, but someone more like Danielle, who constantly looks to you for guidance. Would you or would you not take advantage of that fact? Ordering her to do things for your own amusement?

“Yet Danielle no longer needs his guidance,” I murmured aloud. “She set up these explosives by herself, in pursuit of a plan to become corporeal. So, if I were Dan, I might find that irritating.”

Also, he sure didn’t mention that goal of becoming real to Melissa up front. For that matter, we only had his word that Danielle’s reappearance was recent. And would a guy like that actually consult with any scientists, like he said? Again, we only had his word.

Just like that, I was seeing Dan in a whole new light.

What if Danielle wasn’t the dangerous one here? What if it was HIM? Granted, my reasoning didn’t explain everything, like why this guy was seeking to banish his imaginary companion rather than regain his control over her, or why he had chosen to come to Melissa for help in the first place.

Perhaps he’d suddenly had an attack of conscience? And was holding back information out of guilt? In which case, was Melissa trying to make him sweat a bit, to ensure that this lesson would stick? After all, she’d deduced the existence of the explosives. She might also know where they were already, and how to deal with them.

Resolving to ask my roommate about it, I finally found myself able to concentrate on my homework.

-

“Very nice,” Melissa said, after I outlined my thinking.

She was sitting behind her desk, leaning her chin on her palms and smiling broadly at me as we discussed the situation later that afternoon. And I know I should stop injecting this colour commentary, but she really does have a pretty smile.

“I like your reasoning, James, you’ve really thought about this. And doesn’t it feel a lot better, having worked through this problem by yourself?”

“Then I’m right?” I asked eagerly.

“Eh. You’re getting there,” Melissa countered. “I’ll admit up front that I don’t know exactly where the explosives are, nor exactly when they’ll go off. And there’s still the matter of the third question I asked of Dan, hm?”

My balloon deflated somewhat. “I thought maybe you were just trying to keep him off balance with that one,” I said.

“I suppose that could have been a side benefit. But don’t get discouraged, James. You’re on the right track with the way Danielle has been manipulated. Now, tell me, where do you think she originally came from?”

Again with the threads that I felt I should be able to follow, but couldn’t quite. “Came from? You mean, out of Dan’s imagination?”

“Children have imaginary friends all the time,” Melissa elaborated. “Most of them don’t manifest themselves and start interfering with our lives. Why is that happening here?”

“Yes, well… I suppose Dan’s been dabbling in your ever present supernatural forces?” I hypothesized. “That somehow he used them to create Danielle?”

“Could be,” Melissa replied, her voice suddenly quiet. “Though Danielle is very atypical - there aren’t many supernatural manifestations who would willingly take orders from a human. I don’t like to admit it, but this Dan… he does worry me. He worries me a great deal.”

She paused for a moment, as if to let the impact of that sentence settle over me. But it could equally be that she was thinking about whether she’d eaten lunch. Given how the next thing she did was ask me for the time.

I glanced down at my watch. “It’s five to six.”

She stood. “Time for me to go then. You’re welcome to come, though it may be dangerous.”

“Go?” I asked. “Go where?”

“To the physics building, of course,” she replied matter-of-factly, grabbing her purse and moving for the door.

“But I thought you said you didn’t know where or when the explosion was set to occur,” I protested.

“I don’t,” she acceded. “But Dan does, and I wager it will happen sometime soon. So it’s a matter of following him when he arrives.”

“But if Dan knew, why was he so surprised?”

She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “He didn’t know then. But it was inevitable that he learn of the location. After all, one warning by me to Danielle is hardly going to undo the months, perhaps even years of mental programming that Dan’s instilled into her. No, as soon as Dan knew that she was actually going ahead with her plan, he would stop at nothing to find out the details. And now that he knows, he is going to try to interfere. So it’s up to me to see that Danielle’s plan succeeds.”

I could scarcely believe what I was hearing. “Melissa… if Danielle succeeds, the physics building will blow up,” I reminded her.

Melissa pursed her lips. “Yes, well, I still hope it doesn’t come to that,” she remarked, opening the apartment door. “Now are you with me, or not?”

-

If you were to ask me now, I couldn’t tell you why I went with her. I had met a few other people while on campus, frosh like me, most of whom would have jumped at the invitation of a trip to a bar that Saturday night. Why give that up for the chance to hang around with ‘Weird-gal’, when I only had her word for it that an explosion might be involved?

I can say that it wasn’t because I believed all the supernatural stuff she’d been telling me, not then. I didn’t think it was a joke exactly, but I didn’t really believe it either. It also wasn’t because I found Melissa attractive. As that wouldn’t have been enough, and I hope I haven’t come across as being very shallow for my earlier remarks.

Thinking back, I suppose what it came down to was that, to hear Melissa tell it… well, if I didn’t go, I’d somehow be missing out. Even someone less naive than me would have felt this way, I’m sure.

However, after three hours of nothing, even I was starting to have my doubts.

“I thought you said it would happen soon,” I whispered to her, crouched as we were in the bushes only a short distance from the dread physics building. “Exactly what definition of ‘soon’ were you using?”

“I can’t be right all the time,” Melissa answered in a similarly low tone. “At least it’s a clear night. Look, even with all the light pollution you can still see lots of stars.”

“Some of them are there when I close my eyes,” I grumbled. “We should have eaten before we left.”

“I have a leftover candy cane in the pocket of my jeans if you’re desperate,” she offered. After peering at her face to verify that she was serious, I refused, on the obvious grounds that it was September.

Just then, a figure moved towards one of the side doors of the building. It wasn’t hard to identify Dan, given his build.

“We’re on,” Melissa asserted, moving out of the bushes to follow him. “Stay back and follow my lead.” I indicated agreement.

We proceeded through the door after him, down into the poorly lit basement area, to a door marked “Restricted Access”. Don’t ask me how Dan got a key to that room, but he had it.

The door was swinging shut ahead of us until Melissa grabbed a nearby block of wood and slid it into the path of the door. We both held our breath as the door rebounded slightly and remained ajar, but Dan did not investigate. Probably because he had been distracted by what was inside.

“Oh, please… please don’t do this,” came the voice of a girl behind the door. I could only assume it was Danielle. It sounded like she was practically in tears. “Please Dan, don’t stop the explosion.”

“You don’t understand,” Dan replied. His voice sounded like it had more of an edge to it, as compared to when I’d first heard him. “You’ve never understood.”

“But it’s so late at night that there’s not many people here,” Danielle pleaded. “Plus I scared a few away less than a half hour ago, and the rest might have time to evacuate before the building completely collapses. Doesn’t that make things all right?”

“You stupid girl. Don’t you get it yet? I don’t care if you kill a hundred people,” Dan scoffed. “Hell, some of the things you’ve done for me have probably assisted in doing just that. I can’t let you go through with this because of what would happen to ME if you succeed.”

“But… how would you get in trouble?” Danielle protested. “A-And what do you mean when you say I’ve helped you to k-kill?”

“Nice mirrors,” was Dan’s only reply. “Wonder what would happen if I did this…?”

“Oh, stop!” Danielle shrieked. “It took me so long to set those up, because I had to concentrate so very hard to move them. And they have to be aligned just right. No, Dan, what are you doing?! If you turn it that way so many more people could be hurt. Even I could be killed!”

“Oh, I was hoping you’d say that,” Dan replied.

“Stop, stop, no, no, stop! There’s only five minutes left, I’ll never get them put back… Dan, you could die here too!”

“Oh no, not me,” he laughed. “I’m out of here.”

“I think not,” Melissa countered, now swinging the door open wide. During Dan and Danielle’s conversation, she’d been pulling labelled pieces of paper from her purse and pasting them up around the door frame. I couldn’t read them. I hoped they were meant to be protective wards, or some supernatural equivalent.

“You!” Dan said.

“Expecting someone else?” Melissa mused, stepping forwards into the room.

She had a flashlight with her. This was useful, given that the regular lighting was so dim. Admittedly not as useful as an offensive weapon might be, but Melissa’s said she’s not too fond of things like guns.

Anyway, it was by the light of her flashlight that I saw two mirrors in the room - or rather, three, if you counted the one on the ground. The others were standing upright in swivel frames, resting on what seemed to be several crates and boxes. One of the uprights was facing a wall. The other was angled down towards the floor mirror. Dan was standing by this one, with Danielle standing on the one on the floor.

I did wonder momentarily as to why access into the room was restricted, which was when I saw the pipes at the back reading ‘Natural Gas’, and the timing device on them counting down from 4 minutes, 45 seconds. My mouth went dry.

“Dan, what’s the reporter doing here?" Danielle asked in confusion.

I now knew it was Danielle, based on the description, right down to the glasses she wore. And for a moment, I thought that Danielle was asking about me, until I realized she was looking at Melissa. I suppose that’s why Danielle had consented to Friday’s interview. Dan hadn’t told her that Melissa was a detective.

For his part, Dan ignored his ‘imaginary friend’, glowering at Melissa instead. He didn’t even try to hide his emotions. He must have known the jig was up.

“I should never have involved you in this,” Dan growled angrily. “You with your insipid questions and devil-may-care attitude… why didn’t you just banish her like I asked you to in the first place?”

“Because,” Melissa stated simply. “Danielle’s supposed to exist. You’re not."

I knew I was definitely going to need some time to process that bombshell. Of course, in the moment, I was rather more concerned with the possibility that Dan would lunge forwards and try to knock us all unconscious.

A VIRGA MYSTERY The Invisible Girl: Entry 1b

Crawling out of bed and cracking open my door, I realized the shouter in question was Melissa herself, and that she was screaming at someone on the telephone.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

“Look, I don’t care WHAT time it is!” she stated. “Do you or do you not have a banishing amulet in stock?? … Hello? HELLO…?!” She banged down the telephone into it’s cradle in disgust. “He’s not going to sell ANY merchandise that way! I wish it wasn’t against my ethics to turn him into a frog.”

Not quite sure what to do now, I cleared my throat uncertainly. Melissa turned and blinked at me, abruptly looking quite calm and collected. “Oh, you’re home?” she said with a half smile. There was no trace of anger left in her voice. She was also dressed normally, not for sleep at all.

“Yeah, well, it’s 2am,” I pointed out. “Where else would I be?”

“2am?” Melissa said in surprise. “It can’t be 2am…” She paused to check her wrist, the desk, and the wall, before finally admitting, “Though I guess that’s not out of the question. It would also explain some of that guy’s behaviour. I’m obviously not used to sharing this place yet… did I wake you?”

I gave her a ‘duh, no kidding' look. When she didn’t respond to that, I eventually replied, “Yes, but I can probably get back to sleep again.”

“I can help, if you like,” Melissa offered. “I know a sleep spell. How do you feel about raw onions?”

“No, look, it’s fine,” I assured her quickly. “Just, uhm, if you could keep the noise down for a bit, that would be great.”

Melissa nodded. “Sure. Suppose there wouldn’t be much point calling anyone else at this time of day. It’s a shame my regular supplier was out of amulets… she’s a lot more understanding when I call her at home, you know. I’m less shouty.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she is…"

“Still, it raises the problem of where I’m going to get one,” Melissa continued, tapping her foot on the floor. “I don’t suppose you’d have any leads? With that memory of yours?”

“Well, no,” I said blankly. “I’m not even sure what you’re talking about, so I think I should just…”

“Oh, it’s a banishing amulet,” Melissa interrupted, oblivious to my lack of enthusiasm. “Good for one shot at handling a supernatural manifestation out of control, and then the item has to be recharged by some mystical procedure I haven’t personally figured out. I know, I know, I should have some in stock, but they’re frightfully expensive. Lucky for me Dan’s footing the bill.”

On the verge of simply backing into my room, I paused, my curiosity once again getting the better of me. “Dan?” I inquired. “The tall, well proportioned guy who was here earlier in the week?”

“The same,” Melissa confirmed. “It’s all going to come to an end tomorrow you know. That’s why I need the amulet now.”

I blinked a bit more sleep from my eyes. “Tomorrow?” I questioned. “How do you know something’s going to happen then?”

“Well, it’s obvious isn’t it,” Melissa stated. “Based on what Danielle said.”

“Danielle…? When were you speaking with her?”

“Earlier tonight. Oh, that’s right, you weren’t there… did you want to hear about how it went?" Melissa inquired, now smiling at me invitingly.

It was the sort of smile that could take a man’s breath away under the right circumstances. Of course, a cluttered office at two in the morning, with the knowledge that Melissa was about to embark on a farfetched tale of mystical happenings, hardly made for the right circumstances. But unlike most, I quelled my first instinct to flee, in the hopes that this would let me understand the habits of my new roommate a little better.

“Sure,” I replied hesitantly.

“Have a seat,” she responded, moving back to sit in her own chair behind the desk. “It’ll probably be good for me to review the facts actually. Make sure I didn’t miss anything and all that.”

She stared at me patiently until I had grabbed my dressing gown (hung behind my door), shrugged it on over my pyjamas, and completely exited my room, sitting in the chair opposite her desk. Then this is what she told me.

-

There had been a call left on our answering machine that Melissa had picked up after her Friday afternoon class. In it, Dan had said that Danielle was willing to manifest herself for a talk between six and six thirty that day, during which time most of the other people at the residence would be having dinner.

However, Dan had only called at five, and Melissa had only retrieved the message at five forty-five, meaning it would be difficult to arrive in time. Melissa even hypothesized to me that Dan or Danielle had been counting on that. But, as it was, Melissa made it to the rendez-vous just after the stroke of six, her broom fitting in well with the janitor disguise she had adopted to get inside.

At this point I interrupted Melissa with the natural question as to whether she meant to imply she’d ridden a broom over to Dan’s place. She said of course not, that she’d only ride a broom a night. I couldn’t tell if she was joking. However, during the day she can get away with “gliding” her broom, which basically means using it like a skateboard… she holds the handle, stands upright on the bristles and basically propels herself along the ground with very little effort.

I have yet to see this, but according to Melissa it’s good for the environment while being faster and more maneuverable than a bicycle. She adds most people refuse to believe they’re seeing her on a broom anyway, believing it to be a segway.

So Melissa got to Dan’s room, dropping her janitor disguise once inside. It was little more than illusion and apparently took some effort to maintain. “Now, where’s Danielle?” was her first question as she leaned back against the door.

At this point the temperature of the room seemed to drop a couple of degrees and a shadowy figure appeared, sitting on Dan’s bed. “There she is,” Dan said, gesturing at her.

Danielle’s outward appearance filled in fairly rapidly, revealing a diminutive blonde, not much taller than Melissa herself, wearing a long dress with a rose pattern on it. Her hair was, as previously described, shoulder-length, she was wearing glasses, and her face was, as Melissa put it “strangely expressionless”. Melissa also wagered that Danielle had become more or less solid at the same time as she arrived, for she noticed creases appear on the bedsheets, implying the presence of actual weight.

“You wanted to speak with me?” Danielle said simply.

“Yes,” Melissa replied. “I’d like to know exactly what you’re doing here.”

“You… wanted to speak with me,” Danielle repeated by way of explanation.

“Mmm hmmmm. Now, what about before our encounter?” Melissa clarified. “Why have you been manifesting yourself over the last little while?”

“Well…” Danielle glanced over at Dan before returning her quiet gaze to Melissa. “Because I won’t be suppressed any longer,” she declared abruptly. “I’m going to run and jump and play out in the real world just like any other normal girl would!”

“Mmm hmmmm,” Melissa repeated. “Not a lot of jumping and playing happening on this university campus, except maybe in the bars. I think you’re a bit out of touch.”

“Am I?” Her gaze fell to the floor. “I’m sorry. It hasn’t been easy, trying to make this transition after so much time…”

“You see what I mean about her being detached from reality?” Dan broke in. “It’s like she’s still ten years old inside. That can’t be healthy.”

Melissa glanced over at him. “Perhaps not, but it doesn’t mean that she’s going to ‘hurt someone’, as you indicated.”

“H-Hurt someone?” Danielle gasped, again looking to Dan. “Oh, no, of course I wouldn’t!”

“Danielle, tell Melissa what it was you told me last weekend,” Dan prompted patiently.

Danielle’s feet kicked out nervously from her bedside perch. “Look, I… I only said that sometime in the near future it might be nice to blow up the physics building and put in a nice flowerbed instead. I mean, it would give me what I want, and make this campus look a whole lot nicer… and Dan’s friend Ron agreed with me!”

“Ron is an idiot,” Dan countered. “Besides, he told me that he thought you were some crazy joke of mine. No sane person would ever suggest such a thing.”

Danielle sighed. “But I know how to rig the proper explosives and everything. It’s one of the few useful things I came across during my research. I’ve even been able to determine the other supplies I need. And it’s not like those science types are really people. They’re all so cold hearted, denying my existence.”

“Okay, hold on now. Back up. What research is this?” Melissa questioned.

“Into how I can make myself fully real,” Danielle explained, the trace of a smile appearing for the first time. “I’ve spent a lot of time in the campus library at night, after it was closed. Finally, I came across a section in one book talking about how a large enough explosion could do the trick. All it requires is that the force of the blast be directed perpendicular to your physical plane.”

“Mmm hmmmmm. And these non-people scientists, what’s the story with them?” Melissa continued.

Danielle shrugged. “Well, they’re such idiots is all. They don’t pay attention to me when I try to contact them… not even Dan could make them understand, when he tried. I mean, why can’t they be more open minded? I just want to live the life I was always meant to have.”

“Danielle, let’s not get carried away,” Dan interjected quickly. He turned back to Melissa. “You see now of the danger I was telling you about, Ms. Virga? I think you know what’s required here.”

“Mmmmmm,” was Melissa’s only reply as she moved to look out the small available window. Silence followed as, according to Melissa, she pondered what the campus would really look like without a physics building.

She apparently concluded that administration would simply convert their current plans for a new residence into plans for a replacement building, the physics department partially taking over engineering in the meantime. Hardly an ideal situation, as she put it.

“Ms. Virga?” Dan prompted. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to look at Danielle’s nails,” came Melissa’s reply at last.

Danielle blinked in surprise as Melissa turned back to her. The blonde extended a hand, and Melissa moved forward to grasp it - however, the brunette’s palm passed through Danielle’s as if the girl was a ghost. The blonde immediately pulled her hand back. “I’m sorry, I forgot to concentrate… here try again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Melissa assured her, ignoring the hand as it was offered once more. “I saw what I needed to. Tell me now, why blue, Danielle?”

Danielle pursed her lips, looking to Dan before replying. “I… I don’t know. I guess I just like blue,” she said. “I think it was the colour of my blankets when I was young.”

Melissa raised an eyebrow. “Young?”

“I had a blue blanket I carried around with me,” Dan clarified immediately. “I would ‘lend’ it to Danielle when we were together.”

“Ahhhh. Is that how you remember it, Danielle?” Melissa asked, cocking her head to the side.

Danielle let out a little shrug. “I guess it must be. My memory… it’s very spotty in a lot of places. I can only remember most of the recent stuff I’ve done with any clarity.”

“Mmm hmmmm.”

“So are you happy now?” Dan interjected. “I think you can see that I haven’t been lying to you. So shouldn’t you start taking this whole matter more seriously?”

“Oh, but I am,” Melissa countered. “In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that there’s already been explosives planted somewhere in the physics building. Hooked up to a timer, set to go off very shortly. That’s the case, isn’t it, Danielle?”

The blonde jumped visibly and looked towards Dan, but Melissa interposed her body in between them. “Don’t think about how Dan will react, tell me, is it true or isn’t it?” she reiterated. I imagine she used that soft but firm tone of hers, while at the same time fixing her eyes on the short blonde.

“It… it might be,” Danielle admitted. “But I don’t think that many people will be hurt, since the timer is set for Saturday at…”

“Don’t tell me when!” Melissa interrupted. “Don’t tell anyone the time, Danielle, that’s your little secret. Okay? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few more questions to ask of Dan in private. Could you fade back into your astral plane, or wherever it is you go?”

Danielle blinked at Melissa uncertainly before nodding and beginning to disappear. The detective then turned to face an open mouthed Dan.

“Wh-Wh-What are you doing?!” he demanded, pointing. “If she’s really planted a bomb, we have to know where it is. And how to keep it from going off!”

“We’ll discuss that in a moment,” Melissa countered. “First, answer three questions.” She raised three fingers to emphasize the point. “Number one, what did Danielle mean when she said that you couldn’t make the scientists understand?”

Dan hesitated at that.

“The truth, please,” Melissa added. “Or I shant help you at all.”

“Oh, all right, I did speak with some of them back on the first day of classes,” Dan admitted reluctantly. “Before I came to see you.”

“Then you already knew about Danielle’s quest to join our real world.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, but Dan nodded nonetheless. “She did tell me that was why she had come back,” he yielded. “But does the reason really matter though? She’s going to cause a lot of pain to a lot of people! Right?”

“Second question,” Melissa continued doggedly, “Would you be willing to fund the purchase of a banishing amulet? It can be used to remove manifestations from our physical plane, however, it’s a bit pricy.”

“Well, I’m not exactly rich… but if you think it’ll help…”

“A hundred dollars up front.”

“Euhhhh, geez. I can only manage sixty right now.”

Melissa sighed. “That will have to do then,” she stated. She waited expectantly as Dan fished out his wallet and handed over the money, which she pocketed. “Third question,” she concluded. “Could you name for me one of the first classmates who ever teased you at school?”

“I beg your pardon?” Dan said, exasperation returning to his tone.

“A little bet I have going with James,” Melissa shrugged. “He thinks it was a girl, I figure it was a guy. The money involved here can make up the difference in the purchase of the amulet, so what do you say?”

(I of course interjected here that we’d never made any bet, but Melissa told me to hold on, she was almost done with the story.)

“As a matter of fact, it was a guy,” Dan stated.

“Name?”

“Uhhhhh, Bob. Maybe Frank, I don’t really remember… look, how is that at all relevant to the situation at hand??” Dan said, throwing his arms up in the air.

“You never know,” Melissa responded. She moved to pick up her broom, then reached out for the doorknob.

“Whoa, hey, wait a moment!” her tall client protested. “You’re not leaving, are you? What about Danielle? What about her bomb?!”

“Oh, yes, that,” Melissa acknowledged. She shrugged. “Well, if you ask me, Danielle was right in one respect. We’ve got far too many buildings on campus. Call me again on Monday, I should have an amulet by then.”

She flashed him a smile, then quickly crafted her janitor illusion and left the room before Dan could vocalize any response.

I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

A VIRGA MYSTERY The Invisible Girl: Entry 1a

Anyway, Melissa has allowed me to write about her cases, under condition that I don’t identify specific names and places (since those would make it too easy to track her). Seeing as I’m in first year, working towards a career in journalism, and given that I can publish this on the internet under an anonymous name, I’ve accepted her terms. Therefore, you have no guarantee that my name is James Conway, or that hers is Melissa Virga, but they’ll suffice for the purposes of the chronicle.

Well, all right. That’s not entirely true. Her last name IS Virga, pronounced ‘Weer-gah’. She wanted that much preserved, seeing as she corrects anyone who gets it wrong. “It’s from the latin,” she told me when I first gave the ‘V’ too much emphasis. “Look it up sometime, educate yourself.” (I have - it means ‘twig’ or ‘broom’.)

Of course, there are also some undergraduates at the university who pronounce it ‘Weird-gal’ for, I suppose, obvious reasons, but Melissa takes it all in stride. At least, I think she does. At any given time, it’s hard for me to tell precisely what she’s feeling.

But on with the story at hand!

-

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“alignright” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

The first of Melissa’s cases which involved me begins after my return to our apartment on the first day of classes. I found Melissa talking with a large male in her office.

Of course, when I say her office, I mean our sitting room - Melissa had converted it to office use, since it happened to be not only the largest room, but also the one that you walk into when you first come in the front door. And when I say this was a large male, I mean LARGE - the guy was at least six feet tall and built like a truck. Even though he was sitting down and Melissa was standing, they were about the same height. He turned when I walked in.

“Ms. Virga’s busy,” he declared, giving me an angry look. “Come back later.”

“Now, now,” Melissa soothed, coming around to the front of her desk. “Don’t be rude, Dan. It’s just my roommate.”

The petite brunette fired off a quick smile, her physical beauty still managing to shine through for me, despite the plain purple blouse and faded jeans she was wearing. Melissa then leaned back against her desk, which caused a large stack of papers to slide sideways and collapse onto the floor. She didn’t even make a move to stop them.

“Roommate? Since when does a detective agency take borders?” Dan said, turning his irritated gaze away from me as he became distracted by the noise.

“Since business got slow over the summer and I couldn’t afford to pay the bills,” Melissa said matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry, he won’t interfere with the case.”

“That’s not the point,” Dan said. “I don’t want word of this… this problem getting out!”

“He’ll be discrete. You will be, right James?”

“Yeah, uh… I just came home to make myself some dinner,” I replied.

“Dinner?” Melissa said, furrowing her brow. “But it’s only…” She glanced at her wrist, saw she wasn’t wearing a watch, fumbled on her desk amongst the papers for a moment in search of a clock before realizing there wasn’t one, after which she glanced at the wall where there was also no clock before finally concluding, “Well, I’m sure it’s too early for dinner.”

“It’s after six,” I offered.

“Definitely too early then,” Melissa decided.

“Look,” Dan said, rising. “It’s obvious the two of you have some issues to discuss here, so I’ll just…”

“Sit down.”

Her voice was soft, but firm. Dan sat, probably without even thinking about it. Heck, I almost sat down too. For someone who only just tops five feet, Melissa can speak very authoritatively when she chooses.

“Thank you,” she finished. “Now, having established that my roommate will be discrete whether he bothers to listen to us or not, I believe you were in the process of explaining to me about your invisible friend.”

Dan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Yes, well… look, you’re sure this information will be kept confidential?”

“Do you want my help or don’t you?”

“All right, all right,” Dan sighed, slumping back in his chair. Rather than going back behind her desk, Melissa boosted herself up to sit on it, onto it in order to listen. Another few paper stacks slid to the floor in the process.

“Her name was - is - Danielle,” Dan explained. “I invented her way back in grade school, to keep me company at recess, since none of the other kids wanted to play with me. Understand that I was a bit of a loner back then. Clumsy, uncoordinated, that sort of thing. So Danielle was, for me, the only person who saw through my faults, to the sort of person I truly was.”

Halfway to the kitchen, I paused, being drawn into this conversation despite myself. It was so strange, hearing someone of my age speaking in the way that Dan was. I almost laughed, but then I saw the serious expression on Melissa’s face. It was as if she would remain unfazed no matter what it was that was said in her presence.

I wondered then for the first time what sort of business my newfound roommate was really running.

“Of course, I grew out of that phase,” Dan continued hurriedly, now ignoring me completely as he focussed on Melissa. “Put Danielle and whole concept of invisible friends behind me, where such juvenile thoughts belong. At least, I thought that’s what I’d done.”

“Yet now Danielle’s back,” Melissa deduced.

“Yes, she seems to be,” Dan admitted. “Towards the end of last year I thought it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. But now, I’m not the only one seeing her.”

Melissa leaned forward a bit. “Interesting. Who else has seen her lately?”

“A couple of other people in the residence,” Dan sighed. “The troubling thing is, I wasn’t even there at the time. I only know because word gets around when you’re supposed to be living in an all male wing.”

“And you’re sure this appearance is not simply some girl who resembled the one from your childhood?”

Dan shook his head. “No, no, it’s her, she’s even told me herself who she’s seen, after the fact. And it’s not some practical joke either. Danielle has this ability to appear in both a solid form and a transparent one, such that your hand can go right through her. That’s why I’m here consulting you. Consulting a supernatural expert. I want you to banish Danielle again! Or do something to get rid of her before things get out of control.”

“I see. Could be tricky, since you haven’t yet described to me what she looks like,” Melissa pointed out.

Dan blinked. “Well, she’s a girl. About my age, and I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s as if she’s grown up at the same rate as me. Her hair is blonde, shoulder length, she’s shorter than me but taller than you, wears a faded dress… look, can I simply point her out?” Dan said throwing up his hands. “She’s like any other girl, except she shouldn’t exist!”

“I see. And although you helped to create her, you think things will get out of control?”

“Yes. I mean, the few times I’ve seen her myself she’s seemed… different from how I remember,” Dan elaborated, now shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “For one thing, she seems less focussed on me, and more on the world in general. Despite the fact that she’s obviously detached from our reality. It worries me. I think she might hurt someone.”

“Hummmm,” came the reply, as Melissa pondered what had been said. At least, her eyes seemed to unfocus, so presumably she was thinking about it. Then, just before I thought Dan was about to interrupt the growing silence, her eyes suddenly fixated on him again. “Tell me, quickly, what colour nail polish does Danielle wear now?”

“What?”

That comment had come from me, though I quickly clapped a hand over my mouth as I realized I’d spoken aloud. Dan spared me only a brief glance before looking back at the so-called detective sitting on the edge of her desk. “Did you just ask about nail polish?” he wondered.

“I did, yes,” Melissa confirmed, staring at him intently. “Your answer?”

“It’s blue,” Dan said with more than a trace of exasperation in his tone. “How in the world is that important?”

“You never know,” Melissa replied. She hopped down off the desk and walked back around to the chair behind it, though she did not sit. “I’ll need to meet Danielle,” the brunette concluded. “Before she can be disposed of. Could you summon her for me now?”

“Summon? Well, no,” Dan said apologetically. “I don’t really control her that way, not anymore. She comes and goes when she wants. Which is another part of the problem.”

“Ah, I see. Nevertheless, I’ll need to speak with her,” Melissa insisted. “Perhaps you can convince her to come by here sometime?”

“I don’t think that’s likely.”

“Hummmm. Well, leave your address then. I’ll stop by tomorrow and see what I can turn up,” Melissa decided.

“Look, I said I’m in an all male wing!” Dan protested. “You’d be completely out of place, which would hardly help in keeping things confidential. Everyone would wonder why you were there!”

“It’s not as if I’d come looking as I do now,” Melissa said patiently. “You think I have no disguises?”

“But…”

“Look, if you’re real concerned I’ll send James instead,” Melissa said.

“Huh?” I spoke up again. “Since when am I…"

“The point,” Melissa continued, apparently ignoring me, “Is that I cannot do anything until I see this Danielle first hand. Understand?”

Dan grumbled something under his breath. “How about I see what I can do and give you a call,” he suggested at last.

“Fine,” Melissa concluded. “The answering machine is always here even if I’m not. I do look forward to hearing from you again.” She fired off a quick smile again before at last pulling out her chair to sit down. Picking up a pen, her attention became immediately caught by a few of the papers still cluttering her desk.

Dan hesitated briefly before standing, apparently not sure if there was anything else he should say. He glanced in my direction, to which I immediately raised my hands in the traditional ‘don’t look at me, I have no answers’ gesture.

“Okay, I’ll show myself out then?” the tall man finally said. Melissa didn’t even look up. I watched as Dan turned and strode back out the front door. Yet when I turned back towards my roommate, she was looking directly at me. I took a half step back in surprise.

“So, what do you make of him?” Melissa inquired.

“I think he’s crazy,” I said honestly.

She smiled, her green eyes twinkling invitingly. “In that case, what do you make of me?”

I blinked. “Well, I don’t know. Do you actually believe his story?”

“Parts of it,” Melissa admitted. “Some things, like the nail polish, I’ll need to see for myself.”

“Nail polish,” I repeated. “Right.”

Melissa laughed. “You look so tense, James. Relax. I wasn’t seriously going to send you out to Dan’s place, I merely wanted him to stop protesting. Remember what I said when we made these living arrangements - you can determine your own level of involvement in my business affairs. As long as you give me your rent on time and respect the confidentiality of my clients, there’s no problem.”

“Uh huh,” I said slowly. “Look, Melissa… how about you just leave out a warning when you have such strange types visiting. I can always eat out then.”

“If you like,” she said agreeably. “What sort of warning should I… oh, I know. How about I turn the doorknob fuchsia whenever there’s a client over?”

I blinked a few times. “Turn the doorknob… fuchsia?”

“Well, any colour would work, but fuchsia can signify ‘stop’, plus I have this silk scarf I can use for a reference,” Melissa explained, pulling open the top drawer of her desk. She paused to rummage around in it, finally closing it and opening the next drawer down. “Oh!” she then exclaimed in surprise. “I was wondering where that had got to.”

Melissa pulled out a half eaten sandwich, on a plate and everything. She took a quick bite. The contents seemed to be lettuce and tomato, yet that did not explain the dollop of raspberry jam I saw dribble out from between the bread slices. “Hum, still tastes good,” Melissa declared. “Maybe it should be dinner time after all. Anyway, I’m sure that scarf will turn up sometime, so is fuchsia good for you?”

It took a second before I realized she was talking to me again. “Sure,” I replied, starting to wonder whether I was actually on some hidden camera TV show. “Sure, tie the scarf on the doorknob when you’re busy.”

Melissa made a ‘tch tch’ noise, setting aside the sandwich as she stood back up. “James, James, James… I won’t be tying anything, I’ll be changing the appearance of the metal,” she said. “See, it’s harder for someone else to fake that. Other scarves exist out there, but I myself only know of one other person in the area who can convincingly distort reflected light with her magicks.”

At this point I felt at a complete loss for words.

Melissa grabbed something else from her desk drawer and approached me. “See, I really wasn’t kidding when we spoke on the phone, back before you decided to move here,” she continued. “Magick and the supernatural, they exist all around us. The forces are there, and anyone with the proper abilities can tap into them. I don’t mind if you ignore that fact, most people do. However, in my presence you’re going to have to at least acknowledge it.”

She held out her hand, in the palm of which there was a small ball. “What colour is the ball, James?” she inquired easily.

I looked at it. “Green,” I stated.

She closed her hand, then almost immediately re-opened it. “And now?”

I did a quick doubletake. “Euh, yellow?” Her slight of hand was very impressive.

Again her palm closed and opened. The ball now seemed to be plaid. As if sensing my skepticism, she reached out her other hand. It was completely empty.

“Simple illusion,” Melissa explained offhandedly. She tossed the plaid ball aside and it rolled under a nearby bookshelf. “Well, okay, not that last one, but the yellow you could learn to do yourself. Given time, if you tried hard enough. It comes pretty naturally to me is all, owing to my bloodline.”

“Riiiight.” There had to be something tucked in her jeans. “And how do I know you don’t simply have good slight of hand, with some identical yet different coloured balls hidden on your person?” I challenged.

Melissa shrugged. “I could repeat the process in the nude if you like, but I suspect your attention would wander more.”

I suspect I flinched. She didn’t seem to react. I know this because I made a point of not yielding to temptation, and keeping my gaze on her face.

“Suffice to say,” Melissa continued, “I am in tune with the supernatural. A witch, if you prefer. That’s why I can appear to change the colours of objects, that’s why people come to me when they have trouble with their imaginary friends, that’s why I can turn you into a chicken if you skip out on your lease.” She pivoted and walked back to her desk. “Of course, that last is a rather involved spell, so I hope to avoid using it.”

I frowned. “I thought the chicken clause was a joke.”

“The thing is,” Melissa continued, sitting down, looking back at her stacks of paper and retrieving her pen. “One shouldn’t be able to wield these magicks against another with the intent to cause harm. Not without the recipient’s consent anyway, the penalty for such misuse being severe karmic backlash. However, for some reason I can’t fathom, that supernatural balance on earth is falling out of whack. Individuals are abusing their powers and getting away with it. That’s where I come in. I’m attempting to restore the balance.”

“You mean you really could turn me into a chicken?”

“James, were you listening?”

“Yes, I heard every word,” I assured her. “You’re out to restore the balance of the supernatural on earth. Fine, good, I’m sure that’s a noble goal. However, I’m more than a little concerned about whether I accidentally signed my soul away in the last twenty four hours.”

“Relax,” Melissa sighed with a roll of her eyes. “You’re hardly the sort of person I’m after. As I indicated, don’t cross me and we’ll have no problems.” She paused. “Though you know, you could stand to be less naive. I don’t want anybody coming after me through you.”

“Gee, sorry,” I retorted sarcastically.

“It’s okay, we can work on that,” Melissa said obliviously, having already returned to studying her papers. “Simply let me know if anyone seems to ask you too many questions.” She reached out to take another bite of the mystery sandwich.

I was tempted then to simply beat a quick retreat back into the kitchen, but there was one little detail of Melissa’s prior conversation that still nagged at me. I knew it would bug me all night if I didn’t say anything. So I spoke up, having to ask my question twice before I even got Melissa’s attention once more.

“Nail polish what now?” she questioned.

“It’s just I really can’t understand what that had to do with Dan’s imaginary friend problem,” I repeated patiently.

“Oh, that. Simple really, though you almost destroyed the whole thing with your exclamation.” Melissa pulled her hands back out of sight, under her desk. “Tell me,” she continued easily, “what colour nail polish am I wearing?”

I blanked momentarily, then thought back to when she had been demonstrating the trick with the balls. “Clear polish,” I stated.

An eyebrow rose. “Could it be you’re a better observer than I thought?” Melissa mused aloud.

I shrugged. “I have a semi-photographic memory,” I explained to her. “Comes in handy when trying to describe a scene for an article some time after the fact.” (Incidentally, also true as far as writing about Melissa’s cases go.)

“That’s handy,” the brunette reflected. “Hope I’ll remember that. Though as a matter of fact, you’re wrong, I’m not wearing any nail polish today.” She put her hands back on the desk. “Thing is, most guys don’t key into those minor details of your appearance, not right away. Yet Dan was pretty quick with his response. Which means…” She let her voice trail off and stared at me expectantly.

“Which means… he was making it up?” I ventured.

Melissa shook her head. “The people who invent cases for the purposes of making fun of me wouldn’t have been upset at your presence. Try again.”

I couldn’t think of anything. Possibly because I was getting increasingly distracted looking at her. She really is attractive. “I don’t know.”

“I think Dan knows more about his ‘friend’ and her preferences than he was willing to tell me," Melissa concluded. “Hence the need to speak with Danielle myself.”

“Ah. But, er, won’t it be tricky, chatting with an someone who is imaginary?”

“Eh, I’ve done stranger,” my new roommate said dismissively. Again she bit into her sandwich, and this time I noticed the presence of a banana slice in amongst the lettuce.

“Okay, well, I’ll just be in the kitchen then,” I decided, attempting a smile as I inched further back from her desk.

Melissa didn’t even notice, having already returned to her paper shuffling. Something told me she didn’t spend much time in the kitchen herself. The knowledge that my current bedroom had previously been the dining room added credence to the thought. So it seemed unlikely that we would speak again that evening.

I tried to put it all out of my head.

That worked until late Friday night.

UNIVERSITY WITCH

Casefiles Introduction

In retrospect, perhaps I should have looked a little more closely into why her apartment, so close to campus, was still available that last week of August. But I was from out of town, and somewhat naive.

Oh, all right, very naive – I even took the place sight unseen, arranging everything over the phone. I mean, Melissa sounded nice enough, the apartment was depicted well, and the warnings she gave me about her curious habits struck me as being her way of screening male applicants. Thus when I showed up that Labour Day Monday, I had absolutely no idea of what I was really getting myself into.

I walked in through the front door of the building (kept open during the daytime), proceeding up to the top floor. From there, you couldn’t miss Melissa’s apartment. Underneath the ‘66’ on her door hangs the picture of an eye staring out from inside a triangle. I’ve since seen it in connection with mystical happenings, but at the time I only gave it a passing glance.

I knocked. From inside I heard a female voice call out “Sorry, we’re closed!”

Not certain what to make of that, but recognizing the voice as being that of the person I’d been talking with over the phone, I called back, “It’s James Conway!”

I heard the sound of rustling paper followed by approaching footsteps. Then the door opened, and there she was, peering at me over her reading glasses.

I suppose I should add here that Melissa is a very beautiful girl. I mean, sure, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but many who saw her would agree with my assessment. Long, wavy brown hair, piercing green eyes and, while a bit on the thin side, her body still has curves in all the right places. Turns out it’s not her appearance that bothers others, it’s her mannerisms. And since I had yet to see those, I was too busy picking my jaw up off the floor to hear the first words that she spoke to me.

After I sheepishly asked her to repeat herself, Melissa smiled quietly, as if used to this sort of initial reaction, and said simply, “Could you please give me this month’s rent right away? I need it to pay the phone bill.”

That was the start of our association.

[caption id=“attachment_2011” align=“aligncenter” width=“202”] MELISSA VIRGA
Commission from Shirley[/caption]

CASE 1A NOW POSTED