Page 91 of Autumn L.A.W

“We’re almost done,” she said.

Duke nodded. “We are.”

She glanced at the collection. “If this spell doesn’t work, I’m going to have a very strong word with the universe.”

Then she looked at him.

And for a second, it wasn’t about the spell; or the ingredients; or getting her body back.

It was about the fact that somewhere between a death-flower, a carnivorous plant, and a bleeding tree, she’d found someone she trusted.

Victoria was amazed by the vast amount of knowledge she and Duke were gaining. Every night, she entered what she’d learned in her journal. Perhaps she could pay back Duke’s kindness with a new volume to add to the library. She was, after all, a writer.

On this last night, around the campfire, Victoria and Duke decided to share a little more about their personal lives growing up. Victoria began the discussion by asking, “So both of your parents… Are they magical?”

“Yes,” Duke hesitated, then cleared his throat and launched into his story. “I was not aware of it when I was very young. I was maybe six or seven years old when I first noticed something different about my parents than other kids’ parents or families. When I asked Mom and Dad about it, they sat me down and explained—or tried to—that we were given a gift, and that it was a rare gift, not to be shared with anyone since other people might be jealous of our having it.”

“And did you understand at such an early age about magic? Did they tell you all it could do?”

“Yes and no. I saw glimpses of their abilities when they didn't know I was watching. I remember catching my father wanting a certain book, but being too comfortable to get up, and so he just held up his hand, and the book came to him!”

Victoria's eyebrows shot up. “And did you wonder if that was normal at that time?”

“I didn't until I tried it, and nothing happened. I wasn't instructed yet, so I didn't know what was wrong. Maybe I didn't have the special gift, or I needed some sort of secret that would help me use it.”

Victoria poked at the fire with a long branch, then broke it in half and threw both smaller branches into the blaze, causing some pops and sparks in the fire.

“What about you?” Duke asked.

Victoria shrugged one shoulder. “I was raised by my father, for the most part. We had a mundane nanny, so I didn't know about magic for quite a while. My father owned a helicopter tourism business just outside of Montréal. He taught me to fly helicopters as soon as it was legal. To me, that was magic enough.”

“You've been flying helicopters for quite a while, then.” Duke stared at her in admiration.

“Yes, I had my private license at the age of seventeen. I spent a lot of time learning how to crash in my teens.”

Duke leaned back and stared at her, open-mouthed.

Victoria chuckled. “When I say he taught me to crash, I mean he taught me how to auto-rotate. If a helicopter’s engine cuts out or if you need to land fast and safely, you can cut the engine. The helicopter will start to fall, but the air will turn the rotors the opposite way and slow it down, therefore not harming the expensive helicopter or the lives inside it.”

Duke bumped her arm playfully. “So, you were just joking around… You didn't really crash helicopters, did you?”

Victoria grinned toward the fire; her face illuminated in flickering orange light. “Well, only once, when it wasn't on purpose. At age eighteen, I had my commercial license, and I was heading out to pick up a passenger. My father thought I was trained well enough to do it on my own. Everything was fine except that I had a cold, and I had to sneeze at the wrong moment.”

Duke let out a guffaw. “Are you telling me that a sneeze caused you to crash a helicopter?”

“Not just a sneeze, a sneezing fit! One sneeze after another after another. You can't keep your eyes open when you’re sneezing. It’s physically impossible. So, I was basically blind for a few critical moments and didn't see that I was getting too close to a hillside.”

Duke waited, and when she didn't elaborate, he said in a raised voice, “Well, don't leave me in suspense. What happened?”

She giggled a bit and then said, “I whacked a tree, was thrown off balance, and kind of stuck the helicopter skids into the side of the hill. I cut the engine, but it was too late to auto-rotate.”

“Was there any damage?” Duke asked.

“More to my pride than anything. I had to tell my father about it. I thought he would be angry, but he surprised me by saying he had done something similar when he was my age, and he didn’t even sneeze.”

“We all make mistakes as we learn,” Duke said.

“Yes, but my father was adamant about my not making any mistakes in a helicopter, because it could be deadly. At that time, the only thing I could learn from it was not to fly when I had a cold. That’s not bad advice anyway.”