The Clearing: Origins

Chapter 2

Victor spent the next couple of days scouring the professor's desk, looking for information on why his father had the DNA test done. After a fruitless search, the disgruntled teen headed to the bedroom he shared with Jason. A glance at the clock confirmed it was almost bedtime. 

Standing near the dresser, he stretched a hand toward the brush on his nightstand. Might as well get in a bit of practice, he thought.

"Come on," he urged. "It's late. I need to crack on."

The brush didn't move.

Victor took a deep breath and tried again.

The brush still did not cooperate.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, dropping his hand in defeat. Victor had noticed a change in the magic in the last couple of weeks. The responses were either sullen or overeager, forcing him to work harder or pull back to contain it. At first, he couldn't fathom what the problem could be. He racked his brains for days—then it came to him. His once inner tranquility was gone—a distant memory since he'd regained full-fledged emotions. Learning about his parentage hadn't helped the situation at all.

Kristy had returned, but the genie had her own concerns as she set down permanent roots in the human world. Victor hadn't wanted to bother her with his latest problem, preferring to solve it himself. Perhaps he needed balance between his emotional state and the magic. It worked fine until he became annoyed, fearful, or agitated—a common occurrence living with the Dueling Duo.

The bedroom door opened, and Jason poked his head inside. "Vic, Rosetta stole the toothpaste again. Can you—?"

The brush shot upward and flew toward Victor. He yelped in surprise and ducked, groaning when he heard a loud breaking noise. The brush had flown into the mirror, cracking the glass.

Victor groaned. "Blimey!"

Jason didn't miss a beat. He mouthed, "Hide," then stood outside the door. Victor heard Lovedae's footsteps approaching as he dove behind Jason's bed, the furthest from the door.

"Hey, Mom."

"I heard a noise."

"I was popping some giant bubble wrap," lied Jason. 

The explanation stopped Lovedae from entering the room. "Well, save some for Rosetta. Bedtime, kiddo." Her footsteps receded down the hall.

Victor pulled himself up as Jason reentered the room. "Thanks, mate. I owe you." He stepped to the mirror, concentrating on the crack. The damage was an easy fix, requiring only a hint of magic. The mirror glowed, and the fracture disappeared. "Why can't it always be that easy?"

"You're lucky you ain't getting seven years of bad luck." Jason huffed. "Do me a favor, 'k?

Victor picked up the brush, ready to battle his wayward curls. "What's that?"

"No more magic in here! You're a menace to our bedroom."

"Agreed."

Victor opened his eyes, wondering what had happened to the house.

He stood in the large living room when he distinctly remembered going to bed. The applewood and oak furniture seemed the same, but many of the knick-knacks and family photos on the mantle were gone. Lovedae's magazine collection sat neatly in the magazine holder instead of scattered over the table near the chaise lounge. Victor stepped to the button chair he had perched on the first night he'd arrived at the house. The material on the elegant chair seemed worn and in need of reupholstering.