Spell of the Black Unicorn

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3A rooster's crow from the backyard woke Zofia. An errant breeze through open windows brought her more awake. She glanced at the clock. An hour had passed since Biddle woke her announcing there was someone at the door. Finding Dorian on her threshold had caught her completely off guard. Especially since she'd just had the dream, again. It never varied from when she'd first dreamt it five years ago. Of course, she now knew she'd taken the dream too literally. She thought the dream meant that Blood had killed Dorian, but this morning proved that interpretation all wrong. Blood had found some way to turn Dorian into a vampire.

So now Dorian was a wraith form who had powers of his own. But he was definitely linked to the darker forces, and—bluckh—drank blood in order to continue to exist. He could subsist on other living creature's blood—bluckh—which she would have to provide—double bluckh. Aazel, the captured demon, had forewarned her about trouble. Trouble in what form? She wondered if the trouble would come directly from Dorian… or because of him.

After yawning and stretching, Zofia rolled out of bed.

The dream had come again. No. The nightmare. Vesselvod Blood, the evil sorcerer who had killed her parents, had starred in her nightmares since childhood. Also, whenever she stood in front of a mirror in the buff, the memories resurfaced because of the scar she wore thanks to him.

She strove to send those images away. Stepping to her dresser, she picked up a silver hair brush that once belonged to her mother. Blinking back angry tears, she ran the brush through long, thick, brown hair. She did resemble her mother. Her brown eyes and nose and the color of her hair especially. I miss her so. Immediately she pushed those gloomy thoughts out of her mind and resigned herself to thinking about Dorian again.

He had returned to her. Amazing. Even though he had become a vampire, at least he had come back to her. He had traveled from their world, Euphoria, where magic and wizardry was commonplace, and the Immortals were the gentile ruling class—direct descendants of the gods and goddesses. They had once lived on Earth, a couple of millennium ago, but the religious rulers had begun persecuting witches. Or rather those they thought were witches. The Immortals had found them a new home where they were the ruling class, and the Ugwumps revered them.

Zofia refocused her eyes on her own image in the mirror. Wizards-gone-bad, like Vesselvod Blood, had been the very reason the Ugwumps of that time had become terrified. She knew what someone like Blood was capable of when he'd had wizarding Powers. His crimes were why his Powers had been stripped from him, and he was sent into Hamparzum's Place of Darkness for the duration of his life. Even without his powers, Blood threw terror into her just the same because she knew he was evil.

Dismissing these morose thoughts she dressed for the day in a yellow blouse and matching skirt, then Zofia stepped out of her bedroom. The aroma of frying bacon cloyed the hallway. Her stomach growled. Hunger pains gnawed at her insides. Zofia and her two feline escorts followed the bacon scent down the stairs into the knotty pine kitchen. Ravenous, she burst through the door fearing the others would all be seated at the table snarfing down every last morsel before she could lay claim to any of it. Of course, Tillie would have saved her something, and Biddle would have made sure some was left for her, his mistress—but she would have to play him a few hands of cards to get it away from him.

“Surprise!” and then, “Happy birthday!” Elton, Blanche and Tillie shouted in unison, nearly scaring the pea soup out of her. They each wore brightly colored party hats and blew on noise makers.

“You guys!” she shouted over the noise, covering her ears. “That's enough noise to wake a dead Troll.” In the same moment, she spied the nicely wrapped presents on the table and now surged toward them. “Wow! For me?”

“Did we surprise you?” Elton, her son, asked. His clear-blue eyes blazed impishly beneath a shock of black hair. He wore his favorite T-shirt, his usual torn-out-in-the-knee blue jeans and worn out sneakers. He had new jeans for school, but it was summer, and these he preferred for knocking around with his friends on his bike and skate board.

“Yes, you really did,” Zofia said and patted him fondly on the head. She paused as she looked into his face and realized how much he favored his father. A twinge of guilt hit her. She had to tell them that their father had returned to them. The how and what she would tell them was the daunting thing.

“Open my present first!” Elton cried, interrupting her thoughts.

“No. Mine!” Blanche pushed him aside, her long, dark hair still damp from her shower. She had chosen a pink halter and cream-colored low-ride shorts. There wasn't a yard of material on the girl anywhere. The mode of Ugwump dress was a constant headache for Zofia. No one dared to dress like this on Euphoria—not even the Ugwumps—and she had the dubious position to remind them of that.

“Okay, okay,” Zofia said as she settled into her chair. “Last year I opened Blanche's present first, so I'll open Elton's first, this time.”

“She never forgets,” Elton said, and stuck his tongue out at his sister from a safe distance across the table from her. “Mine is the black and silver wrapped one.”

Zofia eyed the presents. “There seems to be an awful lot of black wrapping paper here.”

They all chuckled with mischievous looks in their eyes.

“That's because of the 'big four-oh'!” Elton burst with laughter.

“Thanks for the reminder,” she said. I'll go and check myself for chin hairs right after breakfast.

Tillie hushed them, and then said to Zofia, “Go on. Elton's present is right there in front of you.”

Zofia picked up a box about the size of a thick book. “It's not very big,” she teased as she tore open the gift wrapping. Inside the cardboard box she found a set of turned wooden candle holders and two bees wax candles to go with them.

“Elton, these are beautiful! Did you make them in shop class?”

He nodded. “Last semester, Mr. Tugit showed us all how to turn the lathe and junk. They took two weeks to make.”

“I'm sure they did, using Ugwump's tools. These will look wonderful in my bedroom,” she said. “Thank you.”

Zofia opened Blanche's present next. She'd given her a nappy-haired teddy bear to add to her collection. Tillie had given her a clear crystal on a gold chain.

“Thank you. All of you,” Zofia said, trying to find a way to segue into telling them the news about Dorian. I wonder how the children will take this news. In the same moment she caught Tillie's knowing gaze. Tillie had been excited by the fact Dorian had returned, but she didn't know the whole story yet. The children hadn't seen him since they were small. Blanche would remember him. But Elton was five when Dorian disappeared.

Before she could begin her story, Elton grabbed his plate and asked, “What're we having? I'm starving!”

“Yes. What is it, Tillie? It smells heavenly,” Zofia said.

“Raisin buns, Irish bacon and sunny-side-up eggs,” Tillie said, as she levitated platters of food from the counter to the table.

“Bon appetite!” Biddle's voice came out of thin air. He removed the domed lids from the platters. Out wafted delicious steam. The lids drifted back to the counter, as if of their own volition. Everyone filled their plates.

Before she could back down, and while everyone was digging into their food, Zofia announced, “I've some news.”

Tillie's face broke into an impish grin. “An announcement, at last!”

“What announcement?” Blanche asked, spearing a forkful of eggs.

“It's good news,” Zofia said, catching the wary look on her face. “Amazing news, actually.”

“Just tell them,” Tillie said with an encouraging wave of the hand.

“Your father's returned to us.” Her announcement had caught them both off guard. She expected it would. Forkfuls of food remained uneaten while their mouths fell open. Blanche's eggs plopped back onto her plate.

“You're joking!” Blanche said, eyes huge.

Elton shot up out of his seat and stared at her. “Dad's here? Why isn't he with us at the table?” His face flushed. She couldn't tell if he was angry or happy.

“Sit down, please,” Zofia said to him. She pulled in a breath and let it out all at once. “I haven't told you everything. He's not exactly—”

“Not exactly what?” Elton demanded, his brows growing together.

“Like he was, before,” she finished, taking in the children's demeanors. She put a hand to her forehead. She hadn't expected this to go well, but this was proving more difficult than she'd imagined. “We haven't spoken of the Dark Lord in a long, long time, but you both know who he is.”

“Blood,” Blanche said with a sneer. She never called him 'Dark Lord'. She refused to give him such a haughty title.

“You said he killed Dad,” Elton said, a dark expression blossomed on his face.

“Um—well, you see, I didn't know that for certain—”

“You had the dream, Mom. You said you saw him kill—”

“Yes, I know that,” Zofia interrupted Blanche. “But I didn't exactly interpret the dream correctly.” She paused only long enough to endure incredulous stares from all three. “His soul was taken from your father. He's now a vampire.”

“Great blazing dragon buggers!” Tillie gasped. Her knife and fork clanged onto her plate startling everyone, pulling their gaze off of Zofia momentarily.

“Where is he?” Elton demanded, still standing, looking like a Fourth of July rocket ready for launch.

“Upstairs—”

Elton made a dash for the hall. Zofia caught him by the arm, stopping him short. He glared at her.

“He's sleeping right now, and I'd rather be with you when you see him,” Zofia said, then threw Tillie a helpless look.

“We'll go up to see him later, after we've finished breakfast,” Tillie said soothingly, picking up her fork again. “So… what're you going to tell Richard?”

Startled, Zofia looked up. “We've broken up, a month ago.”

“But still, he's going to find out,” Tillie said. “You know how people talk.”

“Yeah,” Elton chimed in. “After all, he's a cop. Cops find things out easily.”

Zofia frowned. True. Richard Keys was a sergeant with the Gladstone Police. He did possess the uncanny knack of knowing everything about everyone who lived in Gladstone. She sometimes worried he would find out she and her whole family were from another planet. And now that Natasha Tuestad knew about Dorian's return, there was a good chance that everyone in Gladstone would know her 'dead husband' had come back from the grave. She gave it until around noontime when two-thirds of the town would know. Natasha had most likely told twenty people by now.

“Who else came to the door, right after Dorian?” Tillie asked.

“Natasha.”

“Who?”

Zofia rolled her eyes. “Our Ugwump neighbor, Elanor!”

“Why is she going by Natasha when her name is Elanor?” Tillie asked.

Zofia filled her in on Natasha's visit. She reminded her of the luncheon at the Tea Room, and that she wouldn't be at the shop until later.

The front door bell chimed as they finished breakfast. Its off-key notes sent Biddle into wild shrieks from somewhere deep inside the house. Suddenly, two lower cupboards crashed open. A rush of cold, musty air swept through the kitchen.

“BIDDLE!” Zofia cried, looking down at her cupboards. The hinges were bent as though by the hand of a Troll. Cleaning bottles and their contents spilled onto the floor.

“Better get the door, dearie,” Tillie advised. “Last week, he took it out on the china. Took me all day to repair the plates and cups magically.”

Zofia shot out of her chair and raced for the front door before the bell rang again. Instead there came a knock.

There, on her doorstep, stood a clean-shaven, heavy-jawed policeman. Behind him stood a short, apple-shaped, apple-cheeked old woman with dark ruby lips. Her flaming-red hair was worn like a bonnet of tight curls. If scary had a prize, it would go to Lolly Vosserman, neighbor and hardass.