Holiday Magick (3 page)

“It is about time,” the wizard said. “Most visitors only stand there for twenty minutes or so. Patience must be one of your virtues.”

“You knew I was there the entire time? Why did you not summon me?” Valentine asked a bit angrily.

“May I remind you who is the guest here?” The wizard sat on the floor beside the fire, stretching one leg over the other. “So, let me guess,” he began, looking Valentine up and down as if sizing him up for inspection. “You look young and desperate. I imagine you want…a love potion! Am I right?”

Valentine was too stunned to answer. He took one step closer. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, my! Where
are
my manners?” The wizard rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Sit down already,” he commanded. Valentine hesitantly sat across from the old man so that the flames danced between them.

“Did you ask if I wanted a love potion?”

“Visitors don't come all the way out here for nothing.”

“Maybe they would if you didn't leave them standing in a bush for two hours.”

“Touché, young man.”

“You can call me Valentine.”

“Ahh, the formalities. Names are not important in my line of work. For the right price, I can give you most anything you wish.”

“I did come here for something,” Valentine said, “but it is not a love potion.”

“You catch on quick, lad! So tell me, what is it you are looking for? A strength serum? A wart tonic?” Valentine simply shook his head as the man rattled off one concoction after another.

“I know!” the wizard yelled, snapping his fingers. “You want to go back in time!” Valentine's head shot up and he gazed at the man in awe.

“Can you actually do that?”

There was a tense moment of silence as the old man watched Valentine's eyes. All of a sudden, he started laughing so hard Valentine saw a few birds shoot out from the trees.

“Hahahahahaha! They always fall for that one!” After the wizard's laughter calmed, he continued, “No, young lad, no one can travel through time. Now, tell me, tell me—what
do
you want?”

Valentine was more than a little nervous—afraid that the proverbial door would get slammed in his face once more. On top of that, this was truly his last chance to save Daniella. “A cure for the red virus,” he stated flatly.

The wizard's face altered instantly. A mixture of emotions seemed to play across his eyes until they finally landed on anger. “No! There is no cure. Now you must go—I have things to do.”

“Please!” Valentine begged. “You can name your price. I can pay anything you need!”

“What about the price I have already paid?” the old man shouted.

“I don't understand.”

“Someone came to me once. His request was the same as yours.”

“The King?” Valentine responded. “Did you try to cure his wife?”

“When I told him that no such cure existed, this is where he sent me. Banished! Stuck in the forest until the day I die and become a part of this wretched place itself. No! There. Is. No. Cure. Now go!”

The wizard started to walk toward the caves. Valentine couldn't let him get away—he sensed there was more. The wizard was hiding something.

“I can get you un-banished!” he yelled. The old man stopped in his tracks but did not turn around. “It is his daughter, the Princess, my true love. She has been stricken with the virus. If you save her, I will make sure you are released from this god-forsaken place.”

The wizard still hadn't turned around; in fact, he continued to walk away, simply murmuring, “There is no definite cure. I'm sorry.”

“No! Wait!” Valentine ran around the man and stood face to face with him—kneeling to do so. “Surely, after all these years, you must have thought about it. You must have some ideas. I'll try anything, please!”

The wizard sighed deeply. “My boy, the magic you require is both black and dangerous, and it will likely have no effect—are you sure you want to go down this road?”

“I would die for her.”

“Be careful what you say in this forest,” he warned. Valentine remained silent, pleading with his eyes. “Fine. Let us begin.”

After their agreement was made, the old man retired to his cave, saying that he needed time to “plan”, leaving Valentine alone with his own harsh thoughts. How he missed Daniella and wished he could be by her side. What if he didn't succeed? What if he never saw her alive again? The thoughts haunted him all night as he attempted to sleep on a misshapen black rock by the fire.

Early the next morning, the wizard hobbled back into the clearing, carrying a large bowl in his hands.

“I can think of three different spells—three different chances that one of them may work.”

“What are they?” Valentine asked, peering into the bowl. Some sort of dark liquid brewed within.

“Let's not worry about that right now,” he quickly replied. “We must focus on one at a time.” The wizard glanced down at Valentine's arms. “You look like a strong lad, so this should be simple…relatively.”

“What should be?”

The old man carefully placed the bowl onto Valentine's lap.

“If you truly love her, then your strength and determination will come through in our potion.”

“What exactly are we creating here?” Valentine asked as he was handed a large wooden spoon.

Ignoring the question, the wizard continued his train of thought. “In just a few moments, the sun will rise over the horizon. You must stir that mixture from sunrise until sunset in order for its magic to succeed—there can be no stopping whatsoever.”

“But that's…that's twelve hours! I will not be able to stop at all?”

“You must do nothing but stir—you may switch hands, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Not quite. This is impossible.”

The old man sucked his teeth. “Are you wasting my time? Do you not care for your beloved enough to work for her? Sweat for her? Give up your own comfort for hers?”

“No, no, you're absolutely right. I'm sorry. I just hadn't thought of it that way.”

“Good grief.” The wizard stared out into the distance and as Valentine followed his sightline, he could see the first few rays of sunlight appear between the trees.

“You must begin, now.”

Valentine placed the spoon into the bowl and began to stir slowly. If he were to last until sunset, he must conserve his energy. At this moment, the spoon flowed easily through the mixture, but he knew that in a just a few hours, it would feel as if he were dragging it through mud.

“How will this help to save my Daniella?” Valentine asked the old man, who had now sat on the ground, his back leaning against a tree, eyes closed.

“It is the sweetest gesture of one's love that I could think of, something also believed to hold natural healing powers. That, combined with the love it will take for you to complete the mixture, might actually save the Princess.”

“But…” Valentine grimly stared into the dark liquid before him. “What is it?”

The old man grinned and Valentine noticed he was missing a front tooth, giving him a crooked smile. “Why, it's chocolate, of course.”

By the time the last rays of sunlight were dimmed by the horizon, Valentine's back, legs and arms were sweaty, tired and sore.

“You have surprised me,” the wizard said. “Not an easy feat. You may stop now.”

Valentine released the spoon and sighed in relief. He painfully opened and closed his hands in an attempt to stretch out his fingers. He had never done anything so taxing in his life. As promised, the wizard used a magic spell to turn the now-thick mixture into bite-sized chocolate candies.

“Shall I take them to the Princess?” Valentine asked, excited at the prospect of seeing his love.

“Not necessary,” the wizard answered, “but you can send the Princess a note if you'd like.”

With sore fingers, Valentine wrote a short note to his love, so that she would know that the chocolates were from him and safe to eat.

With a few more magic words, completely foreign to Valentine, the wizard made both the chocolates and the note disappear into thin air.

“But…where did they go?” Valentine asked, incredulous.

“Being banished to a forest teaches you a thing or two. I possess the power to send items to whomever I choose. In this case, the chocolates will be sent directly to the King's sorcerer.” The wizard smiled his toothless grin. “Don't you just love magic?”

The next day, as Valentine and the wizard walked through the woods, Valentine asked, “How will we know if it works?”

“The King's sorcerer will send us a reply. In the meanwhile, we should assume it did not work and thus should begin the next attempt.”

“Well, that's positive thinking,” Valentine muttered.

“It is reality.” He stopped walking and turned to face Valentine. “The red virus has never been cured before. Never. It attacks the heart in a way that healers have never seen. We would be naïve to think we could cure it so easily. Valentine…you must prepare yourself for the fact that nothing we ever do may cure the Princess.”

Valentine silently cursed himself. He
had
been naïve. He had truly believed the chocolates would work and that he would be back with his love soon enough. But the old man was right.

“You are wise,” he whispered.

“Of course I am.” The wizard stood up tall, well, as tall as a four-foot man could stand. “Now, do you see all of these flowers here?”

Valentine had been too distracted to notice anything beyond his own thoughts, but now his eyes grew wide as he took in an entire field of white roses.

“White roses?” He had never seen such a flower in all his life. “I had no idea these even existed.”

“Yes, well, don't just stand there with your mouth hanging open. Gather up as many as you can—two dozen at least, in case we need extra—and bring them back to the clearing.” And without another word, the wizard strolled away.

Valentine stopped trying to figure out the old man's methods. Instead, he focused on the flowers before him. He took a great deal of care in choosing each particular rose. He wanted only the best for his Daniella, only those flowers that mimicked her rare beauty. He winced every time the sharp thorns pricked his fingers. The pain was worth it, though; surely it was nothing compared to what he would feel if he lost her.

After gathering all the roses he could carry, he walked back to the clearing and found the wizard sharpening a knife by the fire. Valentine's eyes immediately fell upon a letter, marked with the King's royal seal, that lay beside him.

“So you miss an entire field full of roses, but the letter you notice, huh?”

“When did it arrive?”

“Just a few moments ago,” the old man said. “Well, open it up and let's hear the bad news. Oh, and give me those flowers.”