Authors: Rachel D'Aigle
“No offense, Billie, being he’s your brother and all,” Irving wailed, uncharacteristically happy.
“What’s a moral of the week?” asked Colin.
“It’s an article in The Jackal Lantern, a small story each week. There’s always some moral at the end, something we’re supposed to learn.”
It reminded Colin of Kanda Macawi’s fire side stories.
Kalida Jackal excused herself and wobbled her way to the spider filled outhouse. It seemed a long time before she returned, and when she did, her sister Kalila accosted her.
“Did you take a wrong turn, sister? Fall in perhaps? Maybe find a handsome young man along the way?” she winked, perniciously.
“All… of the above,” Kalida responded, her speech slurred. This caused the adults to roar again, this time, so much so, that Meghan, Colin and Jae decided it was also time to leave the room. As they exited, they ran into Ivan coming in from the back yard.
“Are the festivities ending, then?” he asked.
“No,” answered Jae. “More like just getting started.”
Ivan opened his mouth to speak then closed it, instead heading upstairs.
“I’ll be down for the festival later,” he said, glancing over the scribbled pages Colin had set on the stairs.
“He is a strange cat,” thought Colin, as they followed him up the stairs a moment later.
Meghan caught onto that thought.
“Speaking of cats, I haven’t seen Nona all day.”
“Sorry, Sis, haven’t seen her,” Colin sent back.
“She’s come to spending more time on her own these days. She’s probably out scrounging for a nice juicy Thanksgiving mouse.”
“Ick,” Colin thought as they entered the bedroom.
An hour later, Sheila, slightly more stable, announced it was nearly time to depart. The boys and Mireya were finished, and astonishingly, so was Meghan. Mrs. Mochrie had sewn Colin’s jacket, and it now fit perfectly. Downstairs, the company had gone, and Irving and Sheila had also changed into their holiday best.
It had been decided in Sheila and Irving’s weekly SLC meetings (Svoda Liberation Committee), that this year their zone would bring the pies, after Sheila Mochrie’s somewhat 88
slurred suggestion on Halloween. Sheila and Mireya had been baking all the previous day. They each grabbed a pie and headed to the feast.
Along the way, they met up with neighbors the twins had never properly met before, all holding various food items. Unsure of where they were heading, the twins let the Mochries lead the way; soon they had arrived at a cliff-side near the ocean, where they stepped into a deep cavern. Hanging candle chandeliers lit up the room brightly, also making the temperature inside nice and toasty.
Two long tables crowded the cavern; the first was laden with food, and the second, lined with chairs. They worked their way to the food table, setting down their pies. The twins were shocked at the variety of foods already there; turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, stuffing, sweet potatoes (cooked in brown sugar), and cranberry sauce, along with marshmallow salad, a strange large noodle, and at least seven different sorts of pies, and best of all, ployes! The twins could not believe it, seeing as it was a staple at many meals back home, and yet not a well known item elsewhere. Then they remembered that the Svoda’s island was off the coast of Maine, and were grateful that ployes were a staple during Maine meals.
The twins took seats along side the Mochrie’s, and to their delight, Billie Sadorus sat next to them. Jae explained a short speech would be given before the feast began.
An announcement by her Pantin proclaimed the arrival of Juliska Nandalia Blackwell, and seconds later, she stepped into the cavern, in fine fashion. The three members of the Viancourt and their families sat nearest the Banon, and all Svoda rose from their chairs and bowed slightly as Banon Blackwell arrived, claiming the head seat at the table.
“Welcome all to another Thanksgiving Day,” her speech began. “We have much to be thankful for this year. First and foremost, that we are still here to celebrate another Thanksgiving Day!”
Cheers went up through the crowd. Banon Blackwell smiled, pleased.
“Secondly, that each and every day, we take steps that get us closer to celebrating this magnificent holiday in our true home.”
She paused as the crowd cheered again.
“And lastly, to knowing that whilst we are stuck in our ever shifting world, that magic still lives, as seen by the arrival of our newest Svoda, Colin and Meghan Jacoby.” The crowd turned their heads unexpectedly toward the twins. Colin was red all over, but Meghan, determined that nothing would ruin her good day, nodded with great enthusiasm.
Darcy Scraggs, sitting next to the Sadorus’, brooded over the attention Meghan was receiving.
Garner focused his cold stares on Colin, who leaned into a shadow to avoid them.
On Banon Blackwell’s cue, all Svoda raised their glasses.
“To our fellow friends and family! One day, we will all raise our glasses together!” An enormous cheer reverberated throughout the cavern and the feast officially began. There were no servers, except on behalf of Juliska Blackwell, whose Pantin took care of her every need. Soon, empty bottles of wine and brandy lined the table, along with dirty dishes and leftover food. After a few hours the crowd began to disperse and Sheila Mochrie, still a little tipsy, boasted about being glad that her zone wasn’t assigned to clean up the festival that year.
“Jae, what does your mother mean when she says her zone?”
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“Each member of the Svoda Liberation Committee (SLC) belongs to a specific zone; it goes by where you live. I think we have nine zones here, so about fifteen people or so in each zone.”
“You said the SLC is an initiated Svoda thing?” said Meghan.
“Yeah, they attend meetings every week with other zone members, to keep up with news, announcements, work on ways to get us back home, stuff like that.” They reached the Mochrie cottage.
“I am full and tired,” said Meghan. “I think I might take a nap and change.”
“Don’t wrinkle your clothes,” giggled Mireya, dancing in circles. “You’ll want to wear them again later.”
“What’s happening later?” asked Meghan.
“The story of the real Thanksgiving,” she answered, dancing her way upstairs.
“Oh, right,” said the twins, in unison.
“You said our history has the story wrong,” reminded Colin. Jae was about to speak when another voice broke in.
“It’s the retelling festival.” Ivan Crane had said it. “It is actually quite interesting,” he boasted.
“Great,” teased Colin. “You’ll have lost my sister’s attention. She doesn’t go for interesting.” Meghan was not given the chance to defend herself.
“Why would I give your sister my attention?” Ivan asked harshly. “She seems to have more than enough to go around.”
Everyone froze at Ivan’s icy reply, but none more so than Meghan, who stood in complete awed silence.
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An hour later Irving Mochrie announced it was time to depart for the retelling festival.
Meghan still fumed over Ivan’s insult, and was not even close to blocking her thoughts from Colin.
“Me, need attention? I’m simply trying to fit in and show people I’m not afraid! I do not need attention! Where does he get off?”
The ranting continued until finally, they arrived at the pathway leading to the festival.
Magnificently carved pumpkins lit the pathway, pitched on tall spikes or hanging like lanterns overhead. A short distance later, they arrived at an outdoor amphitheater. Irving and Sheila directed them to sit near the middle. A roped off section ran across the first row.
“Two guesses who sits there,” said Colin, hoping to avoid Garner’s cold stares.
“They do like to make a grand entrance,” whispered Mireya. Sheila gave her a stern look, indicating that wasn’t nice, but then joined with her in a giggle, realizing it was true.
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“Think the drink’s still got our mom,” Jae said, as the twins got seated next to him. To Meghan’s absolute dismay, Ivan arrived, plunking down stubbornly next to her. He nodded politely to the rest of the family, ignoring Meghan completely. She sat with her nose in the air, thinking, two can play this game.
I wonder if he is aware of how viciously mean he is, her thoughts betrayed. I mean, is he trying to piss me off on purpose? Or is it just a natural talent?
“I wouldn’t take it personal, Sis,” Colin sent to her. “Ivan doesn’t appear to like anyone.” Meghan, for some reason, found her brother funny and laughed loudly. Her steaming animosity melted, and Ivan made a point to converse with one of the Jackal sisters.
Meghan did not understand what everyone was so excited about; listening to a speech was not her idea of fun. She hated to admit it, but interesting was not her thing. A man came onto the stage. His voice reverberated clearly through the amphitheater.
“Welcome, welcome, the retelling will begin shortly, please be seated.” He jumped off the stage and took a seat a few rows in.
After the announcement, Juliska Blackwell arrived in high fashion wearing a woolen, but sleek, form fitting long coat, with streaks of black and deep red. At her sides were the same two Balaton that had been guarding the gate the day Meghan had gone to visit.
“Juliska rarely goes anywhere without those two. The Wandrer brothers. They’re the last in their family line. The one on the left is Jenner, and the one on the right is Jelen; real tough men, don’t want to piss off that crew,” explained Jae.
Meghan smiled slyly as she already knew them.
The members of the Viancourt entered. Garner wore a new flamboyant coat, which was so thick he could barely take his seat. His wife, Ravana was simply, but elegantly dressed. Garner had taken the spikes out of his hair and slicked it back.
Billie Sadorus was overheard to mutter, “Leave it to my brother to try and out do Juliska Blackwell, the queen of entrances… bothersome pig.”
The twins and Jae tried not to laugh, and Meghan noticed from the corner of her eye, that even Ivan, the cold-hearted wonder, cracked a small resemblance of a smile.
Tanzea Chase entered alone, dressed in a drab looking jacket, followed by Darius Hadrian and his wife, Hannelore. They were followed by their daughter, Dulcy, twisting her hair as usual.
She clung to her wiser and fiercer counterpart, Darcy Scraggs.
Darcy, wanting to make sure the twins noticed her sitting in the front row, waved vigorously, with friend-faked enthusiasm.
Colin could not take his eyes off the row. Garner Sadorus had allowed Darcy to use magic against them, and wanted to steal the Magicante. Meghan, having been so sidetracked with the day’s events, abruptly remembered today was the deadline to turn it over. They watched intently, but no one in the front row gave any indication that the twins even existed, other than Darcy’s feigned attempt at friendship.
Someone doused the pumpkin lanterns.
An echoing voice announced, “The time has come.”
The crowd was instantly still. The night sky was clear and a single spotlight shined on the stage where a young boy sat on a chair.
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“Welcome to the retelling of our journey to the Bedgewood Isles.” He spoke in a charming manner.
Squeals of excitement raced through the crowd, as the stone seats they were sitting in began to shift. They tipped backwards so that the audience was looking into the dark, starless sky.
“I love that part,” said Jae.
“A little warning would have been nice,” muttered Meghan.
Colin was too enthralled to care.
A voice began speaking. It was not the little boy, but that of an experienced storyteller.
“That’s Balloch Flummer, owns the book store,” said Jae.
“The voyage was underway,” Balloch started. “Three ships across a vast ocean: the Freedom, the Malden, and the Albion.”
The night sky lit up with silhouettes of three ghostly looking ships, floating across as if sailing through the stars.
“The great ships held a people with hope in their hearts as they sailed to a new world, which awaited them across the great Atlantic.”
The watching crowd cheered madly as a ghostly crew worked the ships.
“We’re watching a movie,” sent Meghan to her brother. “On, like the biggest screen ever!”
“Finally, a history lesson even you can handle.”
She did not reply, but continued to watch the sky as the narrator continued.
“Our ships sailed for many days when a rainless storm erupted from the depths of the ocean.” As he spoke, the scene in the sky changed; the ships began to rock violently with wind and waves ravaging them.
“Our magic began to weaken and the protection surrounding the great ships failed.” A massive eruption took place in the sky; the magical field that surrounded the ships dissolved. “As our protection failed and our magic weakened, we were hunted by ancient enemies.”
Two gigantic birds, with wingspans as wide as a ship, soared into the sky and boos wafted through the attentive Svoda crowd.
“The Shrieker birds shrill cries alerted their allies that the hunt for our ships was over, and thus, the battle began. The Freedom, the largest of the three ships, was the first to fall under attack. Their enemy came from below the waters.”
The sky changed again. Underneath the ship Freedom, two great heads emerged, one on each side of the ships hull.
“The Freedom’s crew fought the beast. However, the weakening spells of the crew were no match for the Amphivena’s knife-like scales and tailless body.” Overhead, the Amphivena tied its heads together, wrapping itself around the ship, preparing to crush the mighty hull.
“While the Freedom fought,” Balloch spoke on, “the second ship, the Malden, was assaulted by the Salt Spiders, the crawlers of the sea.”
Hairless, web-legged fiends the color of the ocean began hurtling themselves on board the ship. Lying flat, the salt spiders looked like malevolent doilies skimming the water’s surface; jagged harpoons covered their thin legs, ready to launch at their enemies.
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“The Freedom and the Malden remained under heavy attack,” continued the retelling. “Two were already dead on the Freedom, and one had been knocked overboard on the Malden, only to be viciously murdered by the Salt Spiders.”