The Thinking Woman's Guide to Real Magic (65 page)

Ramona nodded. “At first, when I told them, they got all excited. And then when I said it was magic—how you were visiting from another world—they got mad and said I was lying. I told them about the spell he put on Friday to make her talk, but I'm the only one who can understand her. They think she's just meowing.

“'Course, Friday doesn't really say anything worth listening to,” Ramona added. “She just gripes about her cat food and says rude things about us.”

“I've heard her.” The day before, Nora had barely caught herself from responding, right in front of Kathy, when the cat made an acid comment about the size of Nora's feet.

“Really? That's good. I was starting to think, you know, that maybe my brain
was
making all this stuff up.”

“No, it's real,” Nora said reluctantly. Should she be saying these things to Ramona, who was already so prone to fantasizing? Was believing in alternate realities going to help her in sixth grade and the rest of her life? “It did happen, but you shouldn't think about it too much,” she said stoutly. “Because we have our lives to live right here, in this world, and we don't need magic.”

“Why not? You can still do magic, right? Arundill was teaching you, you said.”

“I haven't even tried since I got back,” Nora lied.

“What?”

“There's no reason to.” Ramona looked incredulous, so Nora went on: “In that other world, they need magic because they don't have anything else. There's no science, no medicine. You wouldn't believe how much better things are here, really.” To her own ears, Nora did not sound as convincing as she hoped.

“But that's so stupid! Aren't you going to go back?”

“Of course not.”

“I can't believe you, Nora! You are so retarded.”

“Don't say ‘retarded.'” Kathy was strict on this point—no insults that slighted the disabled.

“Why not?” Ramona's voice rose on strong wings of outrage. “You were learning magic—from a magician—in a castle, and you decided to come back here to be a
Muggle
. That's the textbook definition of retarded. You know how lucky you were?”

“Not so loud,” Nora hissed. Leigh was upstairs; Kathy would be home any minute. “I had to make a choice, Ramona. I chose you guys. I missed you. Everyone thought I was dead. When I was here that night, I saw how upset you were. Dad was drunk because of me. And now he's not drinking. So, yeah, I made the right choice.”

“Oh, Dad getting drunk, that stopped months ago,” Ramona said matter-of-factly. “Mom blew up over Christmas and he goes to AA now. They think I don't know.”

“Oh. Well, that's good,” Nora said, taken aback. “But I had to come back so that everyone would stop worrying.”

“Well, yeah,” Ramona said. “But I thought you came back only for a little while, to show them you were okay. I didn't know you were going to
stay
. Don't you miss that other place at all? Don't you miss the magic?” She was tensed, as though ready for Nora to deliver bad news.

“Yes, I do, very much,” Nora said. She had to take a deep breath, the truth came out so fast. “I can't tell you how much I miss—everything.” The magic. Aruendiel. Herself.

“I knew it! So you'll go back?”

“Oh, honey.” Nora hated to say anything to spoil the glee on her sister's face. “I can't.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know how. I came back through a door, and it's shut now.”

Ramona's brow furrowed. “But no one said you couldn't go back, right, the way Aslan keeps telling people they can't come back? There's no
rule
that says you can't go back?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Arundill will help you get back.” Ramona spoke with utter confidence.

“But I can't reach him. And
he
thought I should come back here.”

“Why? That doesn't make any sense. I bet he didn't want you to go. And
you
miss him, too, don't you?”

By way of answer, Nora gathered her little sister in her arms and hugged her, the way she had wanted to the night when Ramona thought she was a ghost. She felt a little better, although embracing her sister did not crush the loneliness she felt. “How did you get to be so smart?” she whispered in Ramona's ear.

“I could tell from how he talked to you, that night, he likes you. A lot.”

“I wish I'd been smart enough to see that.”

Ramona studied her for a moment. “You have to go back,” she said simply. “You'll find a way. We could go camping in those mountains where you got lost, and try to get back from there. Or, your ring!” She grabbed at Nora's hand. “It's magic, isn't it? That's why it broke the clipper at the hospital?”

“But not good magic.” Nora jerked her hand back. That vile ring. How sickening that it was the only tangible connection she had to her other life. Her real life, she could see now.

But if this link survived, she thought slowly, there may be others. There might be other gateways. Going back to the mountains—I could try that. I've traveled between worlds twice now. I know
something
about magic. Surely I can find my way home.

Ramona was still fascinated by the ring. “The only way to get it off is if you cut your finger off,” she was saying. “They'll call you Nine-fingered Nora.” Delicately she lifted Nora's ring finger and gave it a nip, her teeth clicking against the gold.

Nora thought of the expression on Aruendiel's face when she had once made a similar suggestion, and wondered again how she could have been so blind, stupid and blind, she who had prided herself on her discernment. But she only said, “No fighting, no biting,” the way her parents used to when she and EJ were little, when magic was something you only read about in books.

What was it Aruendiel had said? Pick your path with intent. At least, she thought, now I know where I'm going.