FICTION | SHORT STORY | MODERN FANTASY
A Magician Never Reveals Her Secrets
Meet Adelaide and James… what’s trickery and what’s true?
The skeptic arrived like a raven among doves. Literally, in this case, as the doves Adelaide released fluttered down the garden path and past James’ black denim jacket and the oil-slick shine of his dark hair. Her stomach sank when she saw him. Not again.
It had been a good show. Over the last half-hour she’d gathered a fair crowd of unsuspecting parkgoers clustered around the back of the restored Victorian Botanical Conservatory building in Wright Park. She’d warmed up with a smooth set of prestidigitation tricks — linked rings, smoking glass, endless scarf — followed by the sweet ease of magical pressure.
Transmuting a teacup into a top hat was like taking a breath of fresh air. Levitating a woman’s purse felt better than basking in the sun. And the awe of a spellbound audience watching her own hand pass through three sets of handcuffs simultaneously? As great as a cool shower after a long, sunny hike.
And then he showed up with his shiny new phone and shiny silver buttons and shiny white teeth: James Whit the despicable debunker (although he preferred the term “investigator”). Adelaide resigned herself to cancelling her planned finale and dug out a deck of cards, showing everyone how perfectly normal it was.
“Pick a card, any card,” she urged a volunteer from the audience. “Not that card, just kidding, that one’s fine… look at it, remember it, put it safely in your pocket because we’re going to make the rest of the cards… disappear!”
She flicked through the cards again, flashing nothing but blank, white rectangles.
“Trick deck,” James drawled. “The blank cards are shorter.”
She ignored him, despite how the audience members’ heads turned his way. A few people frowned sympathetically, but many were eager to watch the collision of her skill and his cynicism. It had been like this at the other five shows he’d crashed too.
For a moment she toyed with the temptation to pack it all up and go home. Evening was lengthening the shadows, a heavy fog was settling among the trees, and the park would be closing soon anyways. Her bedazzled tailcoat wasn’t quite warm enough for the chill of night, plus she’d put all her auburn hair up into a flouncy ponytail, leaving the tips of her ears exposed to the cold.
If she quit now, she’d have time to pick up pizza and drop in on her sister and niblings. At least the kids could be counted on to enjoy her magic. Stars knew they needed a little wonder and delight to fill the void of their dad’s death.
But Adelaide’s sister, Genevieve, had buried all her healing crystals and herbs when they weren’t enough to stop the cancer that stole her husband from this mortal coil. Gen’s residual power festered under her skin every waking moment, so she probably wouldn’t appreciate Adelaide waltzing in and making teddy bears dance across the kitchen floor.
“It was in her sleeve,” James declared, while the rest of the audience was thinking she’d pulled the card from behind someone’s ear.
“Plus, it’s not my card,” the helpful volunteer added.
“Right,” she huffed. “But are you sure about that? Take it out, let’s check — ”
“If you’re going to do the sticker trick, the one where you run your fingers over the card and reveal that it’s actually the same as the one you’d sleeved while really just removing the sticker, you should know that’s been done before and come up with something better. Plus, it’s not very environmentally friendly.”
Adelaide gritted her teeth behind her smile and finally turned to face him.
“Sir, I’d appreciate it if you’d save your commentary until the end of the show.”
“And I’d appreciate it if you’d stop making people think magic is real. Folks, if you want to see how Adelaide’s tricks are really done, and more, check out my channel on — ”
Deep breaths, Adelaide told herself. Don’t let him get under your skin. Just take three deep breaths…
“ — also pre-order my new book — ”
Three.
“ — scan the QR code at the bottom of my card — ”
Two.
“ — available to investigate other magicians — ”
One.
“But, really, I’m being rude, aren’t I? Please, Adelaide, forgive me. I won’t interrupt again, scout’s honor.”
He pantomimed zipping his lips shut and flicking an invisible key over his shoulder. The patronizing smile he offered as he adjusted his phone’s camera angle set Adelaide’s blood on fire.
Zero.
“How about a bet instead?” Adelaide’s pride outpaced her caution, even as she spoke. Yes, technically, performing true magic in front of skeptics was both dangerous and against the Covenants, but it wouldn’t be permanent, and no one here could tattle on her to the Consortium, and some people deserved to be brought down a notch.
“A bet?” James’ smile brightened.
Adelaide stuffed her trick deck back up her sleeve and strode over to the top hat to scoop out the tips she’d earned so far.
“If you can explain how I do this next trick, I’ll give you… forty-two dollars.”
Pride glimmered in his eyes, brighter than greed. “You’re on.”
Adelaide snatched the bills back. “If you can’t, you have to tell all your followers that you believe magic is real and never come to any of my shows ever again.”
He snorted. “There’s an explanation for everything.” He shut off his camera and slid his phone into his pocket. “Do your worst.”
Adelaide’s smile turned wicked.
The sun’s disappearance had turned the rectangular glass panes of the botanical conservatory windows into black mirrors, and she motioned for James to stand, centered, facing one. The black of his jacket disappeared into the dark glass, but his pale sneer was clearly visible and the haze around them traced his silhouette.
“Now, watch your reflection,” she commanded, and began to wave her hands.
The crowd shuffled closer, breaths held, staring at the glass.
Two small nubs of bone began to sprout from the reflection’s head. His eyes widened momentarily as the bone’s pushed upward and branched outward, growing into larger and increasingly majestic antlers second by second. His fingers twitched at his side, fighting the urge to reach up and feel his own head.
The crowd fell perfectly silent, spellbound.
“Smoke and mirrors,” James said, clearing his throat. When he rolled his neck around, his reflection’s antlers moved with him. “Although, I have to admit, this is the best work I’ve seen from you. But it’s not enough to win the bet. See, someone inside the conservatory has a handheld projector with a video of — ”
“James,” Adelaide smiled. “Feel your head.”
Oh, the look on his face when his fingers brushed the two rough bumps, newly emerged from his scalp…!
“Good evening, folks,” a woman in a Metro Parks volunteer vest called, approaching from the conservatory’s entrance. “The park’s closing now, sorry to break up the party, thanks for your cooperation…”
As finales went, that one could have been worse.
“You did what?” Genevieve's horror nearly woke her own pizza-stuffed kids when Adelaide confessed her latest antics.
“Shh! They should disappear by morning,” Adelaide grumbled.
“You wanted to show him that magic is real so you cursed him and it doesn’t matter what you wanted because if you made him believe he’s going to grow antlers, and then forced magic into his body, then he’s going to grow real antlers and your magic is going to fuel it, and if it drains your vitality, you could actually die!”
Adelaide cringed.
“Stars take it, Adelaide,” Gen ranted, “you could’ve followed mom into aura-healing or tarot like Aunt Maeve. Everybody told you not to risk it!”
“Okay, okay!” Adelaide winced as the uncomfortable truth settled into her stomach.
“And don’t even get me started on what could happen if the Consortium found out!”
“Okay, I get it! I messed up.” Adelaide swallowed. “Just… help me figure out how to fix it.”
There has to be another way, she grimaced as James Whit’s yappy little terrier went nuts on the other side of his door.
He answered her knock in sweats and socks, wearing a beanie under his hoodie. “How’d you find me?” he demanded. “I don’t post my home address online.”
Dowsing compass, probably wouldn’t help anything, so she shrugged, “Your roommate does.”
He scowled. “Fine. So what do you want? To give me a matching tail?”
Adelaide sighed and offered over a nondescript metal tin. It contained the baking-soda-lotion-coconut-oil concoction she and Gen had made last night. Adelaide wanted to put nastier things in, but Gen had glared her down.
“This is the solvent for the adhesive I used to stick the horn-stickers on your head.”
Her voice came out in a monotone. Everything about this felt wrong — helping an arrogant jerk like James Whit, reversing her own spell… revealing her magician’s secrets. If the Consortium wasn’t an issue (and the curse wasn’t actively consuming her magic and vitality), Adelaide wouldn’t be caught dead here. Then again, if she couldn’t convince James that it was all just a trick… she probably would end up dead, one way or another.
“Horn-stickers,” James repeated. He pulled down the hood of his hoodie and yanked off the beanie. “You call these horn-stickers?”
The nubs had grown three inches in one night and now tapered to intimidating points.
Whoa. When James Whit the Investigator chose to believe, he really believed.
“Um… they’re made of an expanding polymer resin which, erm, reacts to moisture in the air… but if you just rub this solvent on, they’ll come right off!”
He snorted and invited her inside with a jerk of his chin.
His house appeared completely normal yet stepping across the threshold felt like entering a hungry dragon’s lair. Adelaide thought she glimpsed a bird in the dog bed, but when she blinked, it was just the terrier circling to get comfortable again.
“It was a projector, right?” James said, calling her attention back to him as he stood in front of the full-length mirror in his entry, goop in hand. “Maybe with some sophisticated tech to track the angle of my head when I moved it?”
“Yep,” Adelaide said. “You guessed it. Planning to make a video about it?”
To her relief, the first chunk of antler fell away, leaving only the remains of harmless whiteish goop in his hair as he went to work on the second.
“Of course,” James snorted. “And I’m keeping the resin-stickers as proof. Oh, and one more thing.”
“What?” Adelaide gritted her teeth.
“C’mere. I want you to see something in the mirror.”
She trudged over to stand beside him. “What could be so impor — ”
The words choked off as she saw her own reflection, now featuring an adorable little cat-nose and whiskers.
She grabbed her face with both hands, feeling a new roughness over her nostrils and the wiry little bristles beginning to sprout from her cheeks.
James grinned at her as he leaned against the opposite wall, baking soda and lotion in his hair.
“You’re — ” she squeaked from behind her hands.
“Looking forward to heckling your future magic shows? Oh, yes. Wouldn’t miss ’em for the world. You can give Griff a treat on your way out.”
When Adelaide turned back, the creature in the basket wasn’t a terrier anymore. At the word “treat” his eagle head reared off his miniature lion’s paws in excitement before he fluttered over to claw at a glass jar full of bone-shaped biscuits.
Adelaide seethed as she dropped her hands away from her growing whiskers to help the little creature get its snack.
As she stormed out James called, “And you still owe me forty-two dollars!”
This story was inspired by the awesome Monday Mashup Prompt #40. Thanks for creating these, Jonathon Sawyer!
My Score: 14/14 points A magician "reveals" a secret against every fiber of her being: +1pt (maybe not every fiber) A countdown to zero deep breaths: +1pt Forty-two dollars at stake in the bet: +1pt The window of the Botanical Conservatory: +1pt Geneveive is a widow: +1pt Heavy fog in Wright Park: +1pt A reflection grows antlers/whiskers: +2pts A miniature griffin asks Adelaide for treats: +2pts James Whit: the ultimate nemesis?: +3pts (he’s not exactly the stuff of nightmares, but I’m hoping he’ll be good enough to use in a future challenge) A lovely little tally box: +1pt
Thanks for reading! I hope Violet Lively, Camryn Osbourne, H.R. Parker, or Sieran Lane won’t mind me inviting them to join the Mash-Up party — I just love what they write and want to read more in any shape or form.
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