Love and Magick, A Short Story Double Feature by Andrew Michael Schwarz

 
     
     
    The Sleeper
     
     
    This wasn’t a fairy tale.
    A wrinkled finger ran down the middle of a
crisp page. Page after page he scrutinized each entry. I wondered
if the book had an index, then realized how silly a notion that
was. It was handwritten in some places, typed in others and patched
over with cut-out script here and there.
    “Patience,” he said, “is a virtue you would
be wise to brush up on, Courtney, my dear.”
    Duly rebuked, I acquiesced silently.
    He was right. Even though I had as good a
reason as anyone to be impatient, I couldn’t let it show, not here
in the presence of the great Arcadian Feldspar.
    A pseudonym, yes, but the name he had chosen
to represent his identity. He was a Grand Master, a true wizard,
and a surly hermit.
    If you’d been practicing for a good, long
while, and if you’d gotten your spells refined to a literal art,
maybe, just maybe he would grant you a hearing for the
Discipline.
    And probably not.
    Oh, one could visit the old man any time,
for tea, herb, lore. But not to discuss the arcana; that was a
special and treasured liaison few ever got. He just didn't trust
people that much. Too much power when you can really do it, I
guess.
    And I knew well, that should any of my
sisters catch wind of my meeting here tonight, jealousy would be
the lesser crime. A neophyte just wasn’t supposed to excel like
that. So, I had no intention of telling anyone . I had fought
hard to get here, but it would be a personal victory, unshared.
    “Here we are,” he said, nose down in the
book. “Right where I remember it.” He laughed a dry chuckle. I
edged closer, trying to peek over his shoulder. He smelled like
cloves and nutmeg.
    “Now,” he continued, eyeing me most
suspiciously in the flickering candlelight. “This is not something
a young lady normally messes around with. But you are exceptional,
as has already been demonstrated. However, and listen up, that is
no reason for you to do anything outside of the parameters that I
will delineate. Do you understand me? You must do exactly as I tell
you.”
    “I understand. And will,” I said
quickly.
    “Well, maybe you do and maybe you don't.
Courtney, my precious girl, do not forget this is the Spell of
Duality. It deals with the dual nature of self. And you must never,
ever underestimate of what the self is capable. You may think you
know the outcome once the spell has begun. Believe me you do
not!”
    He was a scrawny creature, but when he
intended to get through to you, he did in a big way. It got through
and scared the hell out of me. He was an intensification of all
that the Old Religion teaches.
    “I underst—"
    "You don't," he sighed. "Because you simply
can't. Not because I say so, or because you are somehow inadequate,
but because you've never paid the price for this particular
incantation before, this particular time."
    "Price?" I could have slapped him. I'd paid
the price. I'd paid it with flesh. I'd paid it with sweat and tears
and…
    "Courtney, dear, please don't look at me
with such naked furry. Oh!" He laughed. "My God, you're beautiful!"
He paused as if for dramatic effect. "It's just that I have my
doubts if you're ready, that's all! I have my doubts if I would be ready. It's not you or your lack of skill, my God, you
have skill. So much craft in so little time, you're a prodigy!
    "No my dear, it's that this spell is almost
too good. And it's dangerous because it's so unpredictable."
    "I thought you said it would--"
    "Work?" He really cackled then. "Oh, it will
work. Oh, it will most certainly work. But look, you have to be
willing to pay the price and it's personal and different for
everyone. This is a spell about you!
    "So, before we go any further, I need to
know that you are, in fact, ready. Take your time, take a break
from it. Think about it."
    "No!" I couldn't risk where this
conversation was headed. "No. I'm ready. I know I am. And I'm
willing to pay. Whatever the price, I'm willing to pay it."
    "Tisk,