Jonas jumped when his laptop starting dinging. He wondered who it could be because his only friend, Billy, was sitting next to him. Plus, it was the middle of the morning. His parents had let him stay home from school while they 'took care of things at work'.
He'd spent the morning researching magic and mermaid lore. He read articles about mermaids and all the myths surrounding them. He learned the first mermaid folklore was from Assyria, an ancient culture from as early as the 25 century BC. The spoke of the goddess Atargatis who fell in love with a human shepherd. Not knowing her own strength, she accidentally killed him and was struck with so much grief and shame that she threw herself into a lake, intending on being a fish for all eternity. She was so powerful though, that her beauty could not be concealed by the lake, so instead, she kept the fins of the fish and made the upper half of herself human, and became the first mermaid.
Jonas didn't think she was the mermaid who cursed his family. It didn't feel right. Many of the other myths included odd tales, like fish with human heads that could grant immortality when eaten, or mermaids whose tears turned to pearls and clothes that could never get wet.
One myth from Britain rang true, at least to him; that seeing a mermaid was a bad omen, that they were mischievous creatures who seduced sailors and led them to a watery grave. It sure sounded like he was the sailor in this scenario. Still, he didn't find any information about a family curse or a reason he would be able to see and talk to ghosts.
So giving up on the lore, he sent out a few messages to some potential witches on his Tumblr feed. Maybe the call was from one of them, maybe they'd decided to call him on Skype instead of just replying to him online.
"Dude, you going to answer that or stare at your screen until it goes away?" Billy goaded.
"Shut up man, I don't know who it is." Jonas read the incoming call's user name, it said QueenBee from witch1111@gmail.com. Jonas didn't recognize it because Morrigan used a different user name on Tumblr. There she called herself DarkMajickk. He continued to look at his screen until the call ended, exactly as Billy predicted.
"Listen, your parents said they want to leave tonight, right? You should call back, it may be a magical wizard or someone trying to get all mystical on you."
Jonas cringed. He wasn't in the mood for Billy's humor. He knew he was only trying to make light of a situation he fully didn't understand. Billy had accepted Jonas' weird quirk since they were kids. Yet as far as Billy was concerned, Jonas simply needed to find a witch to help him with his 'dead vision'.
It was much, much more complicated than that.
"That's like the fifth ring, what are you waiting for, dude?" Billy laughed.
Jonas' mind was on what Aunt Tily said when she up and vanished in mid-sentence. How he needed a witch to help and protect him. How would he know a good witch from a bad witch? Were mermaids witches if they could cast magical spells? Who in his family had been the one to meet a mermaid and how did a mermaid even start the curse? And why? It was obvious his mind wasn't on the task at hand. Not to mention he hadn't even mentioned mermaids to Billy, or the curse. He felt odd enough as it was. What was he supposed to say or ask this witch?
"Crap," Jonas declared when the ringing stopped.
"You missed it, dude, told you."
"Fine, I'll call back," he said, hand shaking as he moved it up to his computer.
"Wait, I should take off. I already missed first period. Plus, she could be hot!" Billy got up and they fist-bumped before he took off out the door.
Jonas didn't click on his mouse to call the number back right away. He wasn't sure what he was going to say. He thought about what Aunt Tily said right before she disappeared. She told him how she figured something out just before her capture, about some information that was hidden for generations.
"Jonas," she had told him, "know this; not only are you cursed with the Sight, but you have power over magic. And your dead friends can help you, but only if you help them first. Let them guide you, find a witch to protect you, and get to Lizard's Point."
It was the last thing she said to him before she vanished.
Morrigan, on the other hand, was slightly annoyed when the artist-boy didn't answer her call. She rolled her eyes and closed her laptop when the call ended. She turned over on her back and pulled her fingers through her hair, as much as she could. It was curly and kinky and most often a mess. Still, she wasn't sure why she felt connected to the dark artist and in some way she felt let down. She thought reaching out to him could be a way to meet someone who finally understood her.
She tinkered with the idea of sending him some bad-luck. A doppelgänger perhaps? Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe he just ran to the washroom or went to get a snack, or any of a thousand possible scenarios that prevented him from answering her call. She only hoped he didn't ignore it.
She got up and looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing her favorite black dress. She owned more black dresses than she ever cared to count, but this knee-length one with an extra layer of black lace and v neck was her go-to. She liked the v neck so she could wear a necklace freely. An amethyst pendant on a silver chain sat on her smooth brown skin. Her earrings matched but her wrists revealed a mix of black and purple jelly bracelets.
Over her dress she wore a cropped acid wash jean jacket with the sleeves ripped off, which she frayed by throwing it in the washing machine a few times. She thought she looked good, most guys did too. Her purple and black tipped hair, naturally coiled, was cut mostly at chin length, except the front which was longer so it would hang in her face or be easily braided over to one side. Right now she had it clipped back with a bobby pin and out of her way, her usual browsing the net look.
She sighed and fell back into her bed, looking up at her ceiling fan. Even though she thought she was all that, she still felt alone. She was tired of hiding, tired of not having someone to talk to about anything and everything. Where oh where is artist-boy? Maybe he isn't what I think he is.
BRING!
Her eyes popped open and a smile burst out of her gloomy complexion. Or maybe he is! She suddenly felt connected to him all over again and butterflies danced in her belly. It was weird, but she lived weird. She looked at herself again in the mirror and groaned, decided to simply voice link with him for now if indeed it was him. She'd play mysterious.
"Ello?" she said into the infinite abyss.
"Uh, hi, this is Jonas, I think you may have just called me about my problem?"
Silence.
"Uh, hello?"
"Oh yeah, right, the artist. Sure that was me," Morrigan didn't really want him thinking that he had piqued her interest too much, but she was in total shock at how cute he was. Her heartbeat sped up a fraction.
"So... You're a witch then?"
"I wouldn't have responded if I wasn't." Stay calm. Stay calm. Be powerful.
"Cool, ok... Well, what's your name?"
"Ok, first of all, I don't even know if I'm going to help you yet, you could be some loony tunes for all I know. Secondly, I don't give my name out to strangers on-line. You have to somehow prove your worth to me. I mean, why should I help you? What's in it for me?" She came on very strong.
"Right, right, of course. Yes, well..."
To Morrigan, it sounded like he hadn't given much thought about what he'd offer in return for her help. Amateur. But she saw how awkward he felt, just from how he held himself. She felt a tad guilty for not letting him see her as she could see him.
"Oh!" he said with realization. "I can get you information! Anything that will help you out. Is there anything you may want to know about anyone who's ever lived?"
"What?" Morrigan understood the question, but not his point entirely. "What do you mean, 'from anyone who's ever lived'?"
"I mean, is there anything you really wanted to know, like ever. It doesn't matter really if the person is dead. I mean, wait. That maybe came out wrong."
The pieces to the puzzle started falling into place. If artist-boy could get any information he wanted about dead people and he drew dead people all the time and posted about it. "Holy crap," Morrigan began, "you talk to the dead, don't you? You're a necromancer? How cool is that?" Morrigan practically convulsed with pure joy, she thought about all the secrets she could learn from the other great witches she studied. "You must see them too, right? I mean, it would explain the art."
"I'm not a necro-whatever. I can see, wait. You actually believe in all that stuff?"
"Dude, it's my life. Why wouldn't I believe in it?" Though she could think of a million reasons why a person wouldn't.
Artist-boy didn't confirm her suspicions though, instead, he asked, "so you'll help me then?"
"Heck yeah, I'll help you, let's meet up."
"Ok, how about tonight at the North Beach library, say around 5:30, in the study hall?"
"Sounds good, it's a date," Morrigan declared.
Jonas chuckled nervously at that statement. Morrigan laughed internally, thinking he probably had never been on a real date with a girl before.
"Oh hey," he said before she could hang up, "I still don't know your name."
Morrigan paused, still uncertain she could trust her own instincts about befriending Jonas. "It's Moonlight," she answered, which wasn't completely untrue. She'd picked the name for herself when she was a young child learning the dark arts, but it had been years since she had used it. "Moonlight le Fay."