Arine took the earphones to the tape player off and sat back in her chair to look at what she'd written so far. After her and Mia left the apartment with her belongings, she'd agreed to move in with the elf. The author was letting her use her computer, and she was ten pages into the article for Astounding Fantasy. She hoped to be finished by tomorrow afternoon, but for now she found herself having to stop. Her eyes were becoming blurry from staring at the computer screen, and she couldn't stop yawning. She looked over to her left to a beautiful antique grandfather clock. Twelve o'clock on the dot. She rubbed her eyes and turned off the computer. Mia had excused herself to go to bed an hour and a half ago, and Arine was now alone in the library, save for Althor the owl and Mia's cat Dubh. She decided to take a brief look at the books the elf owned before joining her. Going over to the bookshelves, she saw old yellowed manuscripts in languages as far removed from one another as Greek, Arabic and Latin. She saw what looked like spell books along with the works of old French authors of the nineteenth century. As she continued to peruse through the books and began to wonder just how many languages the elf had learned over the past two hundred and nine years, she heard a scurrying sound. She looked up in time to see a very familiar looking squirrel enter through the open window in the library. "Hello." the blonde ventured, "Maire, right?" The squirrel nodded her head, "Aye, that ‘tis my name. I'm glad to see yer feelin' better than ye were." Arine looked at the pooka before her and braved to reach up a hand to pet it. The solitary sidhe closed its eyes and bowed its head, leaning into her hand. "I am, thanks to you and Mia." she said, "I was just about to go to bed when I decided to..." "To look at the mistress' books?" Maire asked, "Here." she said as she scurried over to a bookshelf and started nudging an old hardcover book with a red leather cover, "Open this one, lass." Arine pulled the book from the shelf, and the pooka leapt onto her shoulder. She sat down next to a medieval suit of armor and opened it. She saw that it was a very old photo album, with photos that clearly went back to the nineteenth century. She saw a photo of an attractive woman with her hair pinned up and wearing something that would've been considered fashionable in the 1870's. "That's Katie." Maire said, "Katie Flanagan, th' mistress' first love. She had a mane of fiery red hair and a specklin' of freckles on her face. An' when the lass laughed, it sounded like the tinkling of small chimes." Arine turned the page and looked now at a picture of the redheaded Katie sitting next to Mia. The elf wore a light colored dress and corset, and her lover wore a checkered blouse. She marveled at how Mia looked no older in the photo than she did now. In the picture, the two held hands as they sat next to one another, "They both look so serious." she murmured, at which the squirrel giggled a bit. "Serious?" the pooka asked, "Nay, the two were a couple of lively scamps they were, an' th' house was always filled wit' joy and laughter. Photos back then used t' take forever. Why, they had to sit still fer up t' ten minutes to get their picture taken. Ye can't hold a smile fer that long, ye see." Arine nodded in understanding, and began to look at the rest of the pictures. As she flipped through the book, looking in at quick snapshots of a life together, she noted something sweetly melancholy about the photo album. The fashions changed, and Katie slowly grew older with each photo, while Mia stayed young, and stayed with her love. Near the end of the photo album the two looked more like granddaughter and grandmother than women in love. The last photo was of an elderly Katie sitting in a wheelchair with Mia kneeling next to her, holding her hands. They were both smiling in that one, but there was sadness present in Mia's eyes that tugged at Arine. "She stayed with her all those years." the blonde whispered, "Never leaving her side, even when she became old..." "Such is th' way with th' elves." Maire said gravely, "They fall in love at first sight, and they love unconditionally fer life. Remember this well," the squirrel said, "T' have an elf fall in love wit' ye is a great blessin'." Arine looked at the pooka, and then put the book away back on the shelf. She then pet the sidhe once again on its head and lifted it gently off her shoulder, setting it back down on the bookshelf. As Maire scurried back out the window, the blonde blew out the candles in the room and made her way for the bedroom. Mia was already asleep in the bed. Arine pulled her trousers off and climbed into bed, waking the elf. As the brunette stirred sleepily, Arine pulled her into a hug from behind, holding her tight as the elf found herself spooned up against the blonde. "Mmm..." Mia sighed happily, "And what's that for?" "For loving me." Arine answered as she kissed her cheek, "And for my being lucky enough to be loved by you." In the darkness, Mia could feel herself blushing as she smiled. She snuggled into the blonde's embrace and soon, with Arine's arms around her and her breath gently caressing the back of the elf's neck, they both fell asleep. .... The next morning, Mia woke up with the reporter's arms still around her. She turned to face Arine, marveling how beautiful the young woman was in her sleep. Her chest slowly rose and fell with her breath, and she snored lightly as well. After awhile, Arine began to stir. She opened her eyes, and smiled as she saw Mia's face staring back at her. "Good morning." Mia whispered as she brushed a few blonde locks out of Arine's face. The reporter reached over and softly stroked the elf's cheek. The brunette closed her eyes and felt Arine hug her tightly once again, almost like she was a teddy bear. "My goodness you're affectionate lately." the elf said as she hugged the blonde back, "What brought all this on?" "A talk I had with Maire last night." Arine answered before kissing Mia tenderly on the lips. She then pulled back a bit, "So after I finish my article today, what do you want to do?" "Well," Mia said with a smile, "Today is Wednesday, so a couple of friends of mine from the city will be coming over for dinner. Gemma De Luca and her great granddaughter Amadora." "De Luca? That's Italian, right?" Arine asked as the elf twirled her blonde locks around her index finger. Mia nodded, adding, "You'll love them both, especially Gemma. She's a very old and very dear friend of mine. When my Katie died, Gemma was only a small child. And yet, when she saw me crying in Central Park alone, she went out of her way to try and comfort me in her own little childish way. She made a beautiful garland of flowers and placed it on my head. Through her, I met the rest of the De Luca family, and I ended up becoming something of an extended family member." Arine smiled, "She sounds like a wonderful woman. Is there anything else I should know about her before we meet?" Mia looked thoughtful for a moment, "Hmmm... Yes, there is." the elf said, "Gemma and the rest of her family are Strega." ------ "Strega?" O'Brian asked, "What the bloody hell's a Strega?" "An Italian witch." MacAulay answered, "Look, I already explained; we have to cross through part of Little Italy to get to Little Tokyo, and the stregheria is strong there, so tie this around your wrist." the young druid said as he passed a red piece of string to Donovan. The Irishman raised an eyebrow. "What's this fer?" "It's a kabalistic charm against the evil eye. It was blessed by a rabbi I know, Ellen Silverberg." "Ellen?" Donovan asked. Nick just shrugged his shoulders. "What do you want; she's a member of the Reform branch of Judaism. She also gave great head, but that's neither here nor there. Now tie it on your wrist." he said again. Donovan took the string and began to tie it on. "This is gettin' confusing." he grumbled, "Ye've got me wearin' a Jewish good luck charm now to protect myself from Italian witches so that we can go to Little Tokyo and get a Japanese witch to help me fight an Irish elf and her pooka?" "Who lived in the house that Jack built." Nick said with a grin, "I did try to warn you that it would be easier to let the whole thing go." "And I told ye I wouldn't do that." O'Brian said emphatically, "And another thing; why'd we have to wait until today? And why would the Strega want to start trouble anyways?" "To answer your first question, because yesterday was a full moon and today is a waning moon, meaning the Yamanba won't be as powerful today as she would've been yesterday, which means we'll have a better chance of surviving our encounter with her. And as for why the Strega would try something with us... Well, let's just say I tried to get a little overly friendly with one of their members and leave it at that." "Humph. So now, because ye couldn't keep it in yer pants we have to be on our guard, eh? Very well, after you." Donovan said, following the younger man as he led the way for them. ---A Few Hours Later--- Arine had finally finished proofreading her article and had emailed it into the editor (along with a request to no longer give her information out to strangers) when she heard the doorbell ring. As she shut the computer down, she exited the library to see a very old woman leaning on a cane, her long white hair pulled up into a bun and her eyes looking out from thick glasses. As she entered the house, Mia greeted her by embracing the elderly woman warmly. As they hugged, a much younger woman came in with jet black hair, looking to be a year or so younger than Arine, and carrying several bags full of vegetables. As the younger one brought the bags into the kitchen, Mia led the old woman over to the reporter. "Arine, I'd like you to meet a very dear, sweet friend; Gemma De Luca. Gemma, this is Arine, my... My beloved." The elderly De Luca's bushy eyebrows rose up at that. She turned to the elf and asked her something in Italian. Mia answered her question, although the elf's Italian was a bit halting as she had to stop a few times to search for the right word. The Strega nodded, then walked over the reporter, leaning heavily on her cane as she did so. She reached out and took Arine's hand, turning it over so she could look at her palm. Arine marveled at how soft the older woman's hands were, and she noticed Gemma's mouth moving as if she were silently mumbling something. After a few seconds of studying the young woman's hand, Gemma led her over to a chair and made her sit down. She then took off her glasses, exposing her grayish-green eyes to Arine. As the elderly woman stared intently into her eyes, the blonde felt as if something were going through her, moving almost like a very light electrical current. Finally, the Strega let go of her cane and put both hands on Arine's cheeks. "The blessings of Diana upon you." she said in a gentle tone, "May you live to celebrate your hundredth, may you never know want, may you always wake up with a smile, may all good fortune be yours and may you and the good elf who has fallen in love with you always sleep in the same bed." she then kissed the blonde on both cheeks. Arine was speechless. As the Strega put her glasses back on, the blonde nodded her head slowly, "Thank you, Miss De Luca, I..." "Tut tut." the elderly woman gently scolded, "Call me Momma De Luca. Everyone else does." she then took her cane back up and started to head for the kitchen where her great granddaughter was already cutting up vegetables. Arine out of reflex got up and offered her arm to the old witch to lean on. The Strega smiled as she accepted the help, pausing when the two of them got to Mia. "She is a sweet girl." the Strega said, "I'm very happy for both of you." Mia smiled as she reached out to lovingly squeeze the elderly witch's hand. She then went with the old woman and Arine into the kitchen. ------ O'Brian and MacAulay at last made their way through Little Italy into Little Tokyo. After a quick stop at a corner supermarket where Nick bought a bag of flour, they made their way to a dilapidated old building and began to climb up the stairs. When they finally reached the top, the young man turned to the Irishman, all the joviality from yesterday gone from his demeanor. "Look," he said gravely, "There are two types of witches in this world. There is the kind that dances around the Maypole every Beltane, and then there is the Wicked Witch of the West variety. The Japanese Yamanba is the latter, so stick close to me and let me do all the talking." Nick said as they finally reached the roof. There, seven stories up, was a small shack made out of plyboard, cardboard boxes and odd pieces of wood all fitted together in a haphazard way. Closing the door behind him and O'Brian, MacAulay quickly pulled out the bag of flour he'd purchased and ripped it open. He then began to trace a circle around himself and Donovan, mumbling something about sylphs, salamanders and undines. When the circle was complete and he was out of flour, he called out. "Yamanba," he called out, "Show yourself!" A fog began to slowly creep out of the shack, and a stench of rotting flesh reached the nostrils of the two men. A thin white hand emerged from the makeshift hovel, followed by the form of an old hag wearing a torn and tattered red kimono that was covered in dirt and cobwebs. Her long unkempt white hair fell down her back, and as she opened her mouth to utter some incomprehensible Japanese gibberish, O'Brian saw she was missing several teeth. "Stay in the circle." MacAulay muttered at the Yamanba continued, a thick fog seeming to come from her mouth, and her bloodshot eyes glaring hatefully from the sunken sockets of her leper-white flesh, "No matter what happens, we'll be safe in here." The thing finally finished, and stared silently at the Irishman and the Scottish druid. Finally, she narrowed her eyes as a malicious smile crept across her ghastly face, "Your magic is strong, gaijin." she said in English, her raspy voice sounding like nails across a chalkboard, "What brings a son of Airan and a son of Sukottorando to my humble dwelling?" "Business." Nick explained, "We need your help in a quarrel we're having with an elf and her pooka." "Elf?" the Yamanba asked, "Pooka?" MacAulay quickly pulled a Japanese pocket dictionary from his jacket pocket and flipped through it, "Let's see... Ah, yousai. Yes, we need your help with a couple of yousai." he explained, wishing Japanese contained different words for elves and fairies. The witch suddenly nodded in understanding, and then went into her hovel. She emerged shortly after with a small bag, a notepad and a calculator, "Now then, exactly what do you need?" "Well," O'Brian spoke up, "The one I plan to kill meself, but I need help with the pooka..." "A shape changer," Nick broke in, "Much like the Japanese Fox spirit known as a kitsune." "I see." the witch muttered as she wrote something down in the notebook, "So I'll be in charge of distracting the one yousai while you fight the other." she said. After she finished writing, she opened the bag she'd brought out with her and opened it. She then pulled several small bleached-white human finger bones out and threw them to the ground. "Hmmm..." she murmured, "Now that's interesting. The yousai you're after is a Rezu." "What?" O'Brian asked. "A rezu," the Yamanba repeated, "I believe the English word is dyke." The two men looked from the witch to one another and back. "You mean a lesbian?" MacAulay asked. The Japanese witch nodded, "Hai, the yousai is a rezu." she repeated, "A gomora. Which means somewhere out there is another gomora." "Can you see anything about her?" Donovan asked. The Yamanba recast the bones. "You've already met her." she hissed, "Yesterday, in fact." The Irishman's face turned white, "The reporter." he gasped, "No wonder the Shea elf came so fast to her defense." "I can take care of this reporter for you." Nick offered, "You know, incapacitate her for say... three hundred?" "Three hundred!" O'Brian bellowed. "And I can take care of your changeling." the Yamanba added, "For five hundred." she said, holding up her notebook to show that she'd been working out a bill for him. The Irishman frowned; how had carrying out a vendetta suddenly become so expensive? ------ Dinner was a joyous affair. Mamma De Luca and her granddaughter Amadora took over the kitchen, and the elfin cottage was soon bathed in the aromatic scent of homemade spaghetti sauce. After a dinner where the sidhe ate from tea saucers, Mia and Gemma talked while Arine and Amadora volunteered to do the dishes. "An O'Brian?" the old Strega asked gravely, "I remember you telling me of the old clan feuds of Ireland, but I thought those days were long gone." "As did I." Mia sighed, "I'm not so much worried for myself as for my love. I never meant to involve her in any of this, and yesterday... Well... Yesterday the brute attacked her." The Strega suddenly looked very angry, "Give me the word." she said, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed together, "I have enough belladonna and nightshade at my apartment to manufacture some flying ointment, and my family and I could..." "No." the elf said shaking her head, "For now, the fewer involved the better." "Still," the elderly witch said, "There must be some way I can help, I... Ah, of course." she said. She turned away from the elf to look at her granddaughter who along with Arine was finishing up with the dishes. Young Amadora turned away from the plate she was drying to look at her great grandmother. Their eyes met, and the young woman nodded knowingly as she turned back to put the plate down. "Arine." she said as she reached a hand into her dress pocket. When the blonde's blue eyes met the young Strega's piercing black ones, the witch continued, "Take this." she said, passing a walnut to Arine, "It comes from a sacred walnut tree in Benevento. As long as you have this on your person, you will be under the personal protection of the De Luca Strega clan." Arine took the walnut in her hand and examined it briefly before putting it in her pocket, "Thank you." she said. Amadora simply nodded and went back to the dishes. The reporter, not knowing what else to do, shrugged and went back to them as well. Soon, with the dishes done, it was time for the two old friends to part. Mia and Gemma hugged once again while Arine and Amadora simply shook hands. Gemma then went over to the reporter and hugged her as well. "Take care of her." the old Strega whispered. "I'll try." Arine whispered back. As they watched the two leave in Amadora's used car, the blonde put her arm around the elf's shoulder, "I don't know about you," she said with a grin, "But I'm stuffed. I can't believe I ate that much spaghetti." Mia chuckled a bit at that, "So I take it you liked them?" Arine nodded, "Mamma De Luca reminded me a bit of my grandmother." "Oh?" the elf said with a smile, "Is your grandmother a witch?" "Very funny." The blonde said as she kissed Mia on the cheek. As she walked away though, Mia's smile faded. Gemma had what the Irish referred to as the imbas forasnai, the light of foresight. If she had her great granddaughter place Arine under the protection of the De Luce clan, she must have seen something in the blonde's palm that she was loathe to reveal. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was probably just imagining things, and anyways Arine was now under the protection of the Strega as well as herself and the sidhe. She put away her fears and joined Arine in the living room. -End Notes- Strega- an Italian witch. Stregheria- Italian witchcraft. Airan- Japanese word for Ireland. Sukottorando- Japanese word for Scotland. Rezu- derogatory Japanese term for a lesbian. Gomora- a much more insulting term for a lesbian than rezu, it comes from "Gomorrah" as in "Sodom and Gomorrah."
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