Page 17 of Magic Touch
As I enter the hall, the fact that I'm going to see Esme fills me with excitement. My hands glow. After days of concentrating on mundane things, my magic has escaped from containment at the mere thought of her. Turning, I find Henry gaping. I check the hall and lurch back inside my room before another servant can spot me. "Henry, I'll be down in a few minutes."
"Is there something I can do?" Looking as if he might try to fight the glow out of me, he lifts a hand in my direction.
I sit on my bed and stare at my glowing hands. The cream damask walls close in, and the heavy wood wainscotting looks faraway. The wardrobe grows out of proportion. Everything is distorted.
Even Henry is farther away than logic would dictate.
I shake my head. "I just need to get my emotions under control. I'll be down shortly."
My room grows hazy, and my vision is obscured, as if I'm looking down a tunnel with the walls closing in.
Esme is in her kitchen with Simon mewing and rubbing against her legs. "I'll be with you in a moment. Let me get my tools packed, and then into the bag you'll go."
A green, square bag with holes cut on all four sides sits on the table. It appears to be made of burlap and cloth for the purpose of transporting the kitten.
Simon continues his bid for attention until finally Esme picks him up and cuddles him under her chin, and he purrs. "You are going to make us late, little one."
"Esme?" I sound as if I'm talking into a pillow.
She turns, searching the kitchen. "William?"
"You can hear me?" It feels as if I'm floating at the ceiling. I suspect I have died and am now lying on the floor of my bedroom.
"Where are you?" She puts Simon on the floor and continues looking for me.
"I hardly know. I think I've died." Strangely, the idea of being dead doesn't trouble me much. I never expected to survive the war. If my fate is to haunt Esme for all eternity, things could be worse.
She presses two fingers to the side of her head and closes her eyes. "I don't think you are dead, William. Where were you before you came here?"
"In my bedroom about to leave to pick you up. I started glowing again, everything went out of focus, then I was here." I long to touch her, but I can't find my hands in this daydream or afterlife. Perhaps this is Hell. I'm to always be near here, but never touch her. "How can you be sure I'm not dead?"
"Spirits feel different when they speak to me. Listen to me. Picture your bedroom and ask your magic to go back to the bubble you created when you were in my parlor." Her voice is soft and comforting.
The kitchen fades, and I hear her calling me.
Looking into Henry’s concerned face, I'm on the floor in my bedroom.
Henry is white as a sheet. "How do you feel?"
I pick up a hand and see no blue glow. "What happened?"
Helping me to my feet, Henry closes his eyes a moment. "You got a faraway look in your eyes, wobbled, and I eased you to the floor lest you topple off the edge of the bed."
"How long was I on the floor?"
"Not more than a minute." Henry looks ready to faint.
"Sorry to have worried you." I slap his back. "I'm not quite sure what happened. Let's go pick up the ladies. Perhaps the answers lie with them." I could have lost consciousness and dreamed the entire thing. That seems far more likely than I had a chat with Esme in her kitchen across town.
My legs are steady as we head downstairs to the carriage out front.
Samuel waits at the side. “I talked Anne into riding inside for this part of the trip across town, sir. It gets a bit rocky up top whilst in town. She’ll sit up with me once the ladies are aboard.”
I give a nod and climb in.
Anne sits across from me, looking terrified and clutching her hands in her lap. She is perhaps five and twenty, with pale eyes and brown hair that is always tucked under a cap, with just a few curls escaping. A hard worker, she's risen from scullery to first floor maid in just two years.
"It was not mandatory that you make this journey, Anne. Shall I have the driver return you to the house?" I don't like feeling like a bully. My staff has been loyal to me, and I like to think it is because I treat them fairly and pay them well.
