Wizard for Hire
Chapter Eleven — How to Open the Third Eye

The police car went screeching past us and turned left, the sound of the siren dissipating into the white noise of London. False alarm.

Claudette maintained her stance that we had to hurry, her eyes still glazed with a horrified look on her face, like she was watching something horrible happening. She wasn’t telling us to leave now because of the police car, but because of something else.

Felix took her seriously, bursting out of the shop with his box of magic. We ran, as best we could with a box of precious magical glass, to Holborn Underground.

Holborn to Green Park (Piccadilly Line)

Green Park to Canning Town (Jubilee Line)

It couldn’t go quick enough for Felix who was tapping his leg and biting his lip. As soon as the doors opened he raced out, running back to the house. He didn’t even shut the front door, racing upstairs to his room and frantically unpacking the box of magic. His huge desk was now covered with antique looking glass bottles, several AA battery, sized vials, all filled with different coloured liquids, and an assortment of dried herbs.

He slammed the bedroom door and locked it. Racing round the room searching for things. “Don’t just stand there!” he called. “Make yourself useful and put the coffee machine on, this could take a while.”

Even though he was jumping around the room like a blue-arsed-fly, he had a wry smile on his face, like he was enjoying himself. Like this is what he was born to do. I didn’t understand why Claudette had said we had to go so abruptly, unless we were about to be caught by the police, then why say anything?

On voicing this to the wizard he said: “She’s a See-er, she sees things way before anyone else. So, if she tells you to do something, you do it, for it will be for your benefit that you do.”

Felix reached around his bookcase and pulled with all his might. The bookcase squealed the same pitch as Felix as it pulled away from the wall. I mean, if he just asked me, I would’ve helped.

“Why don’t you just do magic to move it?” I said, a more attractive proposition to me than this undignified display.

He grunted with effort, bent down like a sloth hanging onto a tree, face fixed with physical exertion. “Wand is… out of… charge… remember?!”

On the table his wand was now surrounded by a dozen stones and crystals, all fixed around the wand in a pattern. I wondered how he would know when it was recharged? There were no lights or percentage gauges to tell him it was at 100%, like an iPhone.

“How long does it take to charge?”

“Few hours, maybe more.” He shrugged, panting.

The bookcase had revealed a three foot tall hole in the wall, which the wizard dived into. I bent down and looked inside, it was like another whole room, but there wasn’t much space, for it was only around 4 feet tall in the middle. It was also cramped because it was full boxes and bags. Felix crawled around the dusty second-attic space grabbing things, he seemed to know where everything was.

“Coffee!” he called.

Rather dutifully, I jumped to attention and began to pour.

Felix calmed slightly as he concentrated on his work, I sat in the chesterfield, half reading the paper, half watching the wizard. He complained that me watching him was off putting.

The wizard grabbed up a large cauldron, the size of a large mixing bowl. “You see Norton,” he said waving his hand over his collection of ingredients, bottles and vials. “Making a magic potion is all about preparation, mise-en-scène, as the french say. Timing with a potion is the second most important, it’s like making a roast dinner… if you’ve cooked the meat before the potatoes are cooked, some of it goes cold and you’ve got…” he stopped. “Actually no, it’s nothing like making a roast dinner.”

“And why are you making a potion?” I said, hoping for simple answers over complicated metaphors.

“I’m making a potion that will blast open my third eye, combined with a seekers spell, which will allow me to see where the ring is. Top up!”

I topped his mug of coffee up. If he had anymore he was at risk of a heart attack.

“It’s experimental magic, I’ve done it loads of times before. The last time I did it,” he giggled. “I blew up the house. That’s why I had to move here…”

“You did WHAAAT!” I cried, jumping for the door.

He laughed hysterically. “Gotchaaa!”

“Idiot.” I went back to the chair.

“Pass me that!” he called pointing at the 2 litre glass of distilled water.

I’ve got to say it, I found the process quite enthralling. There were small fizzes and bangs as the potion bubbled away atop a bunsen burner. Slowly being stirred by a long metal spoon at a certain rhythm the wizard had taught it: clockwise for three, anti-clockwise for one.

My fondness for the automatic drinks machine that was the kettle of coffee, grew stronger and stronger. All I had to do, I worked out, was lift my empty mug into the air, and the coffee kettle would jump to attention and pour itself.

“If you keep using it, my wand will never recharge!”

Apologising in a small voice, I placed the mug down, perhaps that was enough coffee for now anyway. “Re-fill the water distiller and turn it on,” he said, carefully levering three drops of green liquid into the cauldron.

“You never told me,” I said, as the wizard now snatched up three books holding them aloft, flicking through each of them as his left hand dictated the movements of the metal spoon. “How you did that spell on Alister in the cafe.”

Felix didn’t look up. “It wasn’t as much a spell, more of a… release. I hate that guy and he wound me up, if I didn’t release that pent-up anger, that whole place including us could be half-way to the moon by now.”

Felix stood, looking appeased, like a chef who had just garnished the finished meal with coriander. Then he started pacing around the room like a university lecturer talking to me as I was somehow a much larger crowd. “To be able to see something that is hidden or lost, you need to open your third eye. This enables one to think outside the box, and see things you ordinarily would not. Making a potion is like baking a cake, you must follow the recipe. If you are making a cake and put flour in before sugar, it will not work. Thus, everything must go in the correct order.”

He fixed me with a dirty stare. “Why aren’t you writing this down?!” he shouted. “You’re writing a fucking book about me, you need to know this shit.”

“Jesus christ Felix, calm down.”

I grabbed a nearby sheet of parchment and a pen and began scribbling. I knew I would be able to remember, but if it appeased him and stopped him shouting then fine.

“Cracked parsley seed, mixed with oregano oil and epsom salt are placed into the cauldron of distilled water, at 39 degrees Celsius, brought up to 45 degrees. In goes the mixture of one part Laxo, the green one, two parts Visitatio, the yellow one and three parts Sensus the red one. Followed by a shard of crushed white quartz, some uncooked basmati rice, used coffee grounds or tea leaves, I used coffee grounds but its personal preference.”

I scribbled furiously as the wizard spoke at break neck speed. “This is then followed by a collection of things I couldn’t possibly tell you right now. But many would pay a pretty price for. One thing, but I won’t tell you when I put it in, is Herdu, which is the bark of an ancient and magical tree. This is where most of the psychoactive agent is, which is required to open my third eye, without years of mediative practice.”

I didn’t like the sound of the psychoactive agent.

“Herdu is funny, you will sometimes hear it be called Wizard’s Sleeve, look at the shape of it and you will understand why.”

He held a piece up, and I don’t know why, but I cracked up laughing. So did Felix. It did indeed look like a wizard’s sleeve, but you know what I really mean when I say wizards sleeve right? (A ladies private part, is the politest way I can describe it). Being a men, we instinctively found this funny.

“Lastly,” he said placing it down and pointing one by one to a small bowls. “Comes a flurry of ingredients, including… Eyebright, Bilberry, Star Anise, Mugwort, Lavender, Juniper and Rosemary. And lastly…” he grabbed a large white packet and held it aloft. “A whole bag of sugar.”

“A bag of sugar?” I said as he tipped the whole lot in.

“For taste,” he said. “You’ll know what I mean if you ever have to try it! Now…” he said changing tac. “Usually, if I had more time, I would, Breaking Bad style, turn this into crystal form and snort it—it just happens to be a better delivery system.”

He said defensively at my disapproving look.

“But seeing as we don’t have time, you can pass me that empty flask.”

Using his now suitably charged wand, he guided the cauldron to tip it’s boiling contents into the flask. Felix tried to be careful, but still spilt some, which sizzled into the wooden floorboards. He was really going to drink that stuff? The colour of it was dark brown, with a shade of purple.

“A potion is like medicine,” he said waving at me to write this down. “It causes temporary but fundamental changes either physically, mentally or both. For example you could take a potion which turns you or another into a frog. It’s magical chemistry. This one just so happens to be for me: cognitive far-sight abilities, heightened to such an extent that I can see where this man’s item has got to.”

“Why couldn’t you just ask Claudette to see where it was?” I tried to explain myself as the wizard’s face showed disapproval. “I mean, if she’s a psychic and all.”

He shook his head. “Don’t work like that bitch.”

Pouring some out of the flask and into the cup, he looked at it for a moment, seeming to brace himself, before downing the mixture.

“Ergh!” he cried dropping the flask to the floor. Jumping across the room to check on him, he pushed me back. “Under control. Get me a pale of water.”

What the fuck was a pale of water? “You mean a bowl of water?”

“Whatever.”

Felix dropped to his knees, eyes closed, and started convulsing like he was about to be sick. I was worried and hovered over him, under he shouted at me to get him what he had asked for. Easier said than done in a room full to the brim, eventually I found a black stone dish, and filled it with water.

“Good lad,” Felix muttered in a small, otherworldly voice, eyes still closed he pulled the dish towards him. Palm over the water, the ripples settled to still. Eventually, he opened his eyes and stared intently into the still water.

He could obviously see something I couldn’t for his eyes were darting all over the place.

“I can see… Kriston’s street, and his house… I am going inside… it’s the correct time, the time when he loses the ring. I can see him sat in his chair, he’s eating something, and he’s looking at the ring, twirling it round in his fingers. Someone’s just knocked on the door. It scared him. He dropped the ring and his plate and sandwich fall to the floor. Hm, cheese. He looks nervous as he goes to the door. But, hang on, the dog… it’s sniffing the sandwich as Kriston is at the door… he’s eating the sandwich… and the ring! Stupid, bloody dog…”

Felix flashed a hand over the water and stood up in a slightly giddy way. “Aha!” he cried punching the air. “The dog ate it. It’s in the dog!”

“You sure?”

“Course I am sure!” he cried looking at me with eyes that were not properly looking at me. He looked like he was high on drugs. “Norton, pack my surgical knives.”

“What? You can’t cut it out of him!”

“Where’s your sense of humour? Course I won’t cut it out! Only a joke.”

I felt sheepish. “Oh, right, yeah, thought so.”

“Easiest money I’ve ever earnt!” said Felix putting his jacket on. “Just think, I could buy a new wand, or a…”

But his shopping list was cut short, because the sound of a dozen heavy running boots filled the air like a gas leak—unwanted.

“Shit!” said Felix, looking through the walls. “They’re here. The police are here. For real this time.”

“Christ, why won’t they ever leave us alone!”

“Alister must have destroyed my hiding spell I had on this house. Git!”

Snatching up my coat I chased after Felix who had sprinted from his room. He got to the landing and looked out the window. Outside, there must have been a dozen or more police officers, in unmarked cars that made no noise. That was unfair, at least a siren gave you chance to escape.

“What do we do?” I said.

Felix bit his nail nervously, thinking about it for a second. The choice would be made for us unless we did something soon, for the sound of stomping, running boots was echoing up the stairwell outside.

“We run,” said Felix, halfway down the stairs already! “I’ve got to earn that money Norton!”

We charged into the kitchen, just as the police officers got to the front door. Ms McCall came out of her room. “What the hell is going on!?” she screamed.

There was a colossal bang at the front door, as they smashed it with a battering ram. It flew off the hinges and hit the wall.

“Ahh!” cried Ms McCall.

Police officers charged inside screaming “POLICE!”

12

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