Trapped in Time II continues, as Myron attempts to use magic to locate the missing Vittorio. Will he be successful? Stay tuned and find out! Don't forget to see what the other Briefers are up to! Their links follow my tale! And this week we have another FLASH VIRGIN!
Trapped in Time II: Chapter Six
We wait to reconvene until after the rest of the camp is settled for the night, and after I have shaken off my persistent suitor—how can I not regard him as such when he makes his interest in me obvious to one and all? Even Charlie has noticed, as evidenced by his first comment once we are together once more.
“Flynn like Doll?” A slight frown creases his brow, and for that I cannot blame him, as I heartily concur—the idea is most distasteful, and insulting to my Vittorio.
“Too much.” I grimace my agreement.
We turn our attention to the matter at hand. I know that Vati and Myron have spent time together since I first brought up the question of performing some sort of spell to locate my Vittorio. I can only pray they have the situation well in hand. I look between the two of them, anxiously, trying to assess their mood, perhaps gain a clue as to the measure of their success.
They do not look unhappy, so I am heartened.
Vati defers to Myron, who clears his throat. Charlie takes his hand and squeezes it, and I think it gives him the confidence to speak.
“I think,” he begins, “that I can do this. I mean, we can do this. Together.”
All of us? How?
“By which I mean,” he continues, “that we are stronger together than alone. He darts a quick glance toward me, as if to give me the opportunity to speak, perhaps to object. I nod for him to go on. I am listening to him closely and am anxious to hear his idea.
“Rolf and I have been talking about this. He says that science and magic are very close together. Like all of us.” I watch as his eyes grow wide, and I understand his fears, for he has never really belonged anywhere before we became a group. I realize anew how fortunate I have been to have the best parents in the world, as well as the most wonderful friend and lover I could ever ask for. Not everyone is so lucky.
Myron clears his throat. “So what we need to do is for everyone to focus on Vittorio. And Doll,” he hastily adds, “as you are closest to him, in your heart, your input will be needed most of all.”
I am touched at his consideration. “I will do everything I can to bring Vittorio back to us,” I solemnly proclaim. I know, deep in my heart, that failure is not an option and never will be.
Instinctively, without being told, we reach for one another and join hands, forming a human chain. It reminds me of spirit circles that I have read of, whose purpose was to contact the dearly departed. In this case, of course, we are seeking the living, but perhaps they operate on the same principle.
Myron begins to mutter his incantation, words I cannot understand, and I cannot guess in what tongue he speaks. I focus my entire being on Vittorio, on my love and devotion to him, on the years which we have shared together, and the years which are yet to come. Of that I have no doubt. I shut my eyes tightly, the better to see him within my mind, and there he is. My beauty. My love. My Vittorio.
My breath catches at the sight of him, although I know he is not actually there. Where are you, my love? Tell us... tell us...
I hear a soft sound, very faint at first, but it begins to rise in volume, an eerie almost ghostly tone that sends a shiver through my body. My eyes snap open and I half expect to see Vittorio’s image emblazoned upon the heavens. I am not the only one, apparently, for everyone seems to be listening to this almost unearthly music. Even Mary has ceased her chittering, her head cocked, listening.
My chest aches with a combination of sorrow and hope. But what does this mean? I do not understand.
Suddenly, within the tight circle which we’ve formed, a mist begins to form, rising from the ground, ethereal and other worldly. We’re all staring now as it circles and whirls, spiraling upward as it begins to change color, from peach to apricot to bright scarlet and tangerine, sparks seeming to shoot from its midst which fall harmlessly to the ground around us, illuminating our awed faces. Just before the phantom dissipates, it utters but one word.
And suddenly I know, and my heart leaps, ready to explode with happiness. Except that I am still not sure of where he is. Was there a message there, one I do not understand?
A hushed silence descends upon us, then we regard one another with unabashed awe.
“What does it mean?” I ask. “Does anyone know?” I look hopefully into their faces, but they seem as perplexed as I am.
Then suddenly Charlie’s face brightens, and he begins to vigorously nod. “Yes, yes, I know, I know!”
“Know what?” Myron asks. Everyone turns toward Charlie. I hardly dare to hope.
“The wind,” he announces with a knowing grin.
“The wind?” I echo, still confused. What about the wind?
“That was the sound of the wind whistling through the trees.”
But that doesn’t make... and then suddenly I understand too. “Whistling Wind,” I repeat, feeling both humble and grateful at the same time, a feeling that overwhelms me, and brings tears to my eyes. Tears of happiness and joy.
“Whistling Wind,” Vati repeats. “Ja, ja.”
The very town toward which we travel. See? I was right to believe he was here. And we will be there tomorrow, according to Shaughnessey. And then... and then I shall find my Vittorio and all will be right with the world once more.
And then we can figure out how we are to go home. Home to Mutti.
to be continued
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Grace Duncan ***FLASH VIRGIN!!!!******
Until next time, take care!