September/October 2016

Magic is like a little puppy. Curious and frolicsome, it bounds throughout the world, unbidden and free. It pauses, sometimes, to explore or play. It’s that breeze that makes the nape of your neck tingle delightfully, that lifts you way off your feet, then sends you tumbling into warm, soft grass. It usually shows up when you don’t expect it—but sometimes when you do. Sometimes you know what it is the moment it touches you, other times you don’t realize until much later. Sometimes it’s just curious, other times it has a more serious cause. You never really know, with magic. Carissa Berlin had learned that lesson. She knew that magic, while amazing, wasn’t always dependable. It had a mind of its own. It chose when to appear, when it would help—and when it wouldn’t. Her pa said there was a reason behind everything. He said magic could sense when interfering could mess things up, so that’s why it kept away at times. It couldn’t be just random. Carissa wasn’t so sure. That freakish storm the other night, for instance. Her friend Lou’s barn roof crashed in, but Carissa’s house was untouched. “A miracle,” her ma had said as the family stood out on the porch, watching the neighbors fix and clean after the damage. “A right-and-regular miracle.” Carissa had agreed and felt thankful that they were all fine, and their home was too. “Why, Aria? Do you think it was really magic?” Now—a day later—as she sat on her bed, deep in thought, she knew it was more than a coincidental happenstance. It was more. Magical, it had to be. The exciting thought made Carissa’s legs jiggle. But why us? she wondered. We’re doing great this year with Pa’s business, so fixing wouldn’t have set us back much at all… why not somebody who needed the protection more? She thought about asking her older sister, Ivy. Ivy always had good ideas, even if she could be bossy sometimes. But these days, Ivy often seemed preoccupied, and she snapped at or ignored her younger sister more than usual. No, Carissa decided. This was something she wanted to figure out herself. She flopped back on the bed so that she was looking at the ceiling. There was a crack on it that she liked to stare at when she was thinking. If you tilted your head at the right angle, it looked like a thin, tall girl with floating hair and large butterfly-like wings. When Carissa was six, she had decided that the ceiling-crack girl was a fairy and had named her Aria. “Why, Aria?” Carissa asked aloud, staring up at the figure. She often talked to Aria like this. Obviously, she couldn’t answer, but it made it easier for Carissa to think of ideas when she felt like she was brainstorming with another person. “Do you think it was really magic?” The curtains fluttered, and a shaft of sunlight danced, just for a second, over Aria. Carissa took that as a yes. “You know how Pa says there’s a reason for everything, especially with magic, so what’s the reason here?” No answers popped into her mind. She got no bright ideas. Carissa sighed and closed her eyes, wondering about the whys and hows of magic. *          *          * Carissa sat up in bed. Something was different, though she wasn’t sure what. She looked around, panic growing. Her eyes darted from her bookcase to her plush blue chair and around again. The window was wide open, and the yellow curtains streamed in the breeze. Carissa could hear the chirps and whistles of the birds outside. The things in her room looked as if someone had sprinkled a fine silver powder throughout the room— they glittered like diamonds in the sunlight. Then Carissa noticed something that made her jaw drop in astonishment. Aria was gone from the ceiling. Where there was a crack, there was now smooth white ceiling. Suddenly, Carissa was aware of a sweet, high voice singing a soft melody. She stood up, entranced, and walked through the window. She floated out and seemed to glide through a world unlike the one she knew. Then! On the top of a hill, stood the figure Carissa had dreamed about for so long. The girl’s hair was golden like sunlight and flew behind her though there was no breeze. She had deep blue eyes and wore a dress that seemed to shift and glow, like it had been woven from the spirit of nature itself. Most remarkable of all, two bright blue, gossamer wings extended from her back, like those of a butterfly. She was the one singing, and the closer Carissa got, the more beautiful it seemed—clear and pure, delicate and sweet. “Aria?” Carissa breathed, and moved slowly toward the girl. “Come, Carissa,” she sang, smiling and holding out her arms, “I can show you the secrets of magic… Come, Carissa!” She stepped forward, her face welcoming. *          *          * “Come, Carissa, I said!” Her ma’s voice rang out in her ears. “It’s time for dinner!” Carissa blinked. She must’ve fallen asleep. What a lovely and strange dream she had. Just to be sure, she checked that Aria was still on the ceiling. Once again, the girl’s enchanting shape was imprinted right over Carissa’s bed. Carissa climbed off her bed and stretched. She glanced quickly at herself in the mirror—short, slim ten-year-old with auburn hair and bright green eyes. Carissa began walking toward the kitchen. Oddly, she still vividly remembered every detail of her dream. Usually, they vanished the moment she awoke, leaving only hazy traces. This one was different… “There you are!” her ma scolded, placing a plate of spaghetti in front of her youngest daughter. “I called and called… what were you doing up there?” “Oh,” Carissa began, a forkful of noodles already poised to be eaten, “I fell asleep this afternoon, I guess.” She stuffed the pasta into her mouth. Mmm, there was nothing like her ma’s