Unwilling Magic: A doubter's adventure

By Iona Rosewood

A simple visit to a psychic turns Aria's life upside down when the three wishes she makes on a whim start coming true. Suddenly, she's rich, successful, and has the man of her dreams at her side. But as the unexpected consequences of her wishes are revealed, Aria realizes she's made a grave mistake.

Determined to undo the wishes, Aria turns to magic spells, only to discover that the repercussions are far worse than she could have imagined. As she questions whether she's stumbled into an alternate reality, Aria must confront her doubts and fears head-on.  Can Aria overcome her skepticism and embrace her newfound abilities to cast her own spells? Will she find a way to reverse the wishes and restore her former life? Or will she be forever changed by the magic she never asked for?  

Join Aria on her journey of self-discovery in a world where wishes can come true, but at a cost.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Iona Rosewood
• Release date: Jul 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215957912

Book preview

Chapter 1

Be careful what you wish for!

Three wishes, the psychic had said.  Aria had been amused.  How cliché, she thought, how pedestrian.  Why not two or five or seven?  And why call herself a psychic when she was pulling a scam with incense and paper, getting people to write down their wishes? 

But Rosalind was there, smiling encouragingly at Aria, wanting her to do it.  This was all Rosalind’s idea.  She gave Aria one last conspiratorial nod before going to wait in the outer room so that Aria had privacy to write down her three wishes on the pieces of scented lavender paper provided by the woman who called herself Madame Louisa.

So, she wrote down the wishes, not giving thought to the phrasing and later not remembering the exact words.  She only remembered Madame Louisa’s solemn tone as she said, no more than fifteen words. Then she folded the papers as instructed and handed them to Madame Louisa. 

The woman solemnly accepted them and folded each one separately twice more and put each one in a flame in a bowl surrounded by incense.  She bowed her head and murmured something indecipherable as the papers slowly turned to ashes. She didn’t read Aria’s wishes. Aria remembered that later.

After only ashes remained, Madame Louisa raised her head, joined her hands in front of her as if praying, and intoned, let it be done.  Let nothing stop the granting of the three wishes so earnestly desired by this woman, Aria Bloom.

Aria sat there uncertainly, observing the figure shrouded in a shapeless dark purple garment and studying her face.  It was a powerful face, with a large pale forehead, long auburn hair flowing back around her shoulders.  Her mouth was straight and down-turned, as if she never smiled.  Aria could not guess at her age. The woman seemed ageless.

The piercing eyes were now closed as she finished her incantation, or whatever it was.  Aria wouldn’t have stared so openly had they been open.  They were an unusual color—amber maybe—and unnerving, as if they saw everything.

She shifted uncomfortably.  It was time to get out of here—game over.

Madame Louisa opened her eyes suddenly, as if sensing Aria’s discomfort, and looked into her eyes. 

It will be done, she said.

Thank you, Aria said, ever polite, as she stood, uncertainty replacing her earlier scornful dismissal of the ritual.

The woman nodded slightly, which Aria took as a cue that she was dismissed.

****

Rosalind was waiting silently in the outer room. It was her turn now. She stood, and in a hushed tone asked, how was it? Oh, don’t tell me. I should go in now. You can tell me later. 

She giggled. Wish me luck, as she opened the door and disappeared into Madame Louisa’s inner domain.

Aria waited in the small room, no more than a hallway and surprisingly bare. It was dimly lit as the larger room had been and contained two simple chairs.  She was still in a dreamy state. The atmosphere, even out here, was trance-like.

Madame Louisa knew how to put on a good show, Aria admitted. She was good. There was something to learn here. She filed the experience away for reference should she ever be asked to play the part of a clairvoyant, or a fortune-teller, or a psychic.

Eventually Rosalind emerged, moving slowly, eyes glazed. She blinked when she saw Aria, as if clearing her vision.

How was it? Aria asked.

We are not supposed to talk about the wishes, Rosalind mumbled. Madame Louisa had told Aria that too, but she intended ignoring it.

Time to get out of here.

Well, let’s go and get some food. I’m famished.

The street was crowded and lively. It restored Aria’s skepticism, and the bright lights and noise of traffic and voices snapped her out of the dreamlike state she had been in since she emerged from Madame Louisa’s inner sanctum.

When they were seated in the Mexican restaurant and had selected from the menu, Aria reached for a glass of water, laughed, and said, Well, that was a waste of money.

She was already feeling removed from the psychic experience, as she called it. She was ready to discuss the atmosphere and how Rosalind had experienced it and how Madame Louisa had created it. It had been a learning experience. She might be able to use it in her acting.

Rosalind, however, was not in a lighthearted mood. She was still in that dreamy, trance-like state.  She was taking it all seriously. But Rosalind had believed in the power of Madame Louisa even before this evening. She had believed she would get important answers, even have her wishes granted. The session with Madame Louisa had not dampened her enthusiasm. Rosalind was a true believer. That was very evident.

Let’s see what happens, Rosalind said. Give it a chance. Have faith. You never know.

This was no fun. But then Aria had agreed to accompany Rosalind, knowing Rosalind believed in this nonsense. Now she supposed she had to play along. Madame Louisa had warned them not to talk about their wishes to anyone.  She had made that announcement as soon as Aria sat down across from her before Aria wrote down her wishes. Doubtless, she had followed the same procedure with Rosalind.

Aria had nodded in agreement, not really intending to abide by that rule. She should have guessed Rosalind would carefully follow instructions and not share her wishes.

I don’t mind breaking the rule and telling you about my wishes and about what happened in there. You don’t have to talk about your own experience.

Rosalind held her hand up, looking troubled. I don’t want you to say anything. Don’t tell me, please. Let’s give it a chance to work.

There was a pleading note in Rosalind’s voice. She really needed to believe this. Aria relented. After all, it was part of Rosalind’s birthday celebration.

Anyway, Aria had a pretty good idea what Rosalind had wished for.  Rosalind wanted John to marry her. They had only been seeing each other for three months, but Rosalind was convinced he was the one.  She talked about him constantly. After their second date, she reported she wanted to marry him.

She was twenty-nine, one year older than Aria, and had said last week, we’re going to be thirty soon.  It’s time to stop settling for losers and find a good man to marry.

She had said that the day she told Aria about the psychic and asked Aria to go with her to see Madame Louisa.  Everyone at her job had been buzzing about Madame Louisa, and several people had made appointments.  They had all raved about the experience. Rosalind had been intrigued. They had given Rosalind a gift card for two consultations, as Madame Louisa liked to refer to it, as a birthday present. 

Aria wondered why they gifted her with two consultations and learned that one had been intended for John, who had refused to go.  When Rosalind asked Aria if she would come along with her and use the extra consultation, Aria had said, what the heck?  It’s free.  Maybe it will change my fortune.  I’ll try anything at this point.

And so they made plans to go together that night to see Madame Louisa. Then Aria would take Rosalind for a birthday dinner at Conca D’Oro, their favorite Mexican restaurant.

Chapter 2

Rosalind knew all about Aria’s discontent.  Aria had complained about it often enough.  They moaned together about the unsatisfactory men they dated, or the more satisfactory ones who were unavailable—like the married man Aria had coffee with occasionally.  He seemed to like her company, flirted discreetly, but was open about his happy marriage.  Aria had sighed to Rosalind, he would be perfect if he was single.

And then there was her penniless state.  She was so tired of being poor, so tired of the odd jobs she took to make ends meet. It would be easy to guess, if anyone wanted to guess, what her wishes would be—a man, money, and success in her acting career. 

Of course, she didn’t have a copy of the wishes she had written down on the purple paper.  She remembered the gist of what she had written down, but not the exact words.

Much later, she struggled to recall those words.  It might have been important to the outcome.  At the time she hadn’t worried about the wording, might have been careless about how she expressed her desires.  She hadn’t felt a need to be careful. She had been skeptical, tongue in cheek, carrying out the charade. 

Had she been punished for her attitude?  Or had she not been explicit enough about how she wanted the wishes granted?  Had there been words in there that indicated she wanted harm to befall someone?  Much later, that weighed on her mind.

She really hadn’t wished for anything harmful. That she knew in her heart to be true. She had been focused on her own desires, had wished for things that would make her happy, not things that would hurt anybody else.

Of course, someone more practical might say she was just being superstitious, even more so than Rosalind, and that what followed was a series of coincidences, and in some cases unfortunate accidents. 

No one in their right mind could hold her responsible.  But then again, maybe she wasn’t in her right mind, Aria thought grimly.

That Monday night in the Mexican restaurant, Rosalind had a determined glint in her eyes and a calm demeanor, as if she had accomplished something important. 

She said in a tone of calm certainty, I know he will propose soon.  I’m sure of it. And we’ll find a wonderful, big apartment with high ceilings by the park that we can afford. It will be big enough for a family.

Aria smiled tolerantly. She would respect Rosalind’s request not to talk about the wishes, but Rosalind was so transparent and so gullible. Aria liked that about her. Rosalind hadn’t realized she had revealed her three wishes—to marry John, have children, and live in that apartment by the park. It was so obvious.

If it made Rosalind happy to believe in magic, who was she to spoil that? Everyone needed to believe in something.

I really wish all your dreams will come true, Aria said and meant it. They raised their glasses of red wine and clicked them together in a toast.

Yours too, Aria. Maybe this will be a turning point.

Rosalind sighed. But it’s Monday and I have to be at work early tomorrow. Time to hit the road.

Aria settled the bill, and they were about to leave the restaurant when her phone buzzed.  She saw with surprise it was Gil Martin, the director of the play she was currently understudying—well, of course, she was not understudying the entire play, just the female lead. 

Yes, this was her life, going to an off-Broadway theater every night, not to perform, but to understudy the female lead, while she longed for a real part of her own, preferably on Broadway. That had been her third wish, to be in demand as a brilliant actress. She didn’t remember her exact words. Maybe she had written famous instead of brilliant.  Not that it mattered.

She motioned to Rosalind.  I’d better take this. It might be important. Rosalind nodded and disappeared to use the bathroom while the waitress whisked away Aria’s credit card.

Gil’s voice sounded harried.  He spoke quickly. 

Aria, glad I reached you. I need you in tomorrow morning for rehearsals.  You know all the lines, don’t you?

All Harriet’s lines?  Yes, of course.

You will have to go on tomorrow night.  She’s been in an accident.  Broke something.  His voice was tense. Can you do that?

That’s dreadful, Aria said.  I hope she is not badly hurt.  She meant it but couldn’t help thinking what a break it was for her.  She would finally get to perform.

She broke something and I get a break. 

She had been itching to play the part, the female lead, but never expected to get the chance.

She added, of course, I will come in tomorrow whenever you want me there.  But I’ve been there watching the play every night.  I know the lines well. I am ready to go on.

They settled on 11 am.  Aria hung up the phone.  This was exciting, even if it meant only a night or two of performing. At least she would be onstage, and in the lead role.

Rosalind was already waiting by the door of the restaurant.

I’m playing the lead tomorrow night, Aria said gleefully.  Finally, I will be going onstage. I can’t believe my luck. Harriet had an accident and broke something.  That’s all I know.  Of course, I’m sorry she’s hurt, and I hope it’s not a serious injury, but what a break for me.

Rosalind nodded, her eyes wide and excited.  Maybe your wishes are coming true. It’s starting to happen.

Aria stopped and looked at her, startled.  What!  Don’t be ridiculous.  Do you think I wished for Harriet to have an accident?

No, but maybe you wished for a chance to be in a play. But we’re not going to talk about your wishes, remember? We want to be sure they come true.

Aria stared at Rosalind, startled. She had wished to be in a successful Broadway show.  That had been one of the three wishes.  Why couldn’t she remember the exact words she used? She dimly remembered writing something about wishing she would get a break, but dismissed that thought.  Maybe she hadn’t written those words. Maybe she was only now thinking of that word break. She couldn’t be sure she had written it down.

And anyway, this play was not on Broadway. Besides, she would probably be playing the role for only a few days at most, until Harriet recovered. This lucky break had nothing to do with Madame Louisa’s mumbo-jumbo.

Aria said good night to Rosalind and, feeling optimistic and energized, made her way home.  She needed to get a good night’s sleep and be rested and ready for an exciting day tomorrow. She would be onstage in a lead role.

Chapter 3

The next day passed in a blur of running through the scenes Gil was particularly anxious about. And then there were costume fittings.  Aria and Harriet were about the same size and similar in their appearance, one reason Aria was chosen as understudy, but minor changes needed to be made in the costumes, nonetheless.

Gil wanted her to stay true to Harriet’s interpretation of the part.  Aria, as she had watched Harriet’s performance over the past few weeks, had come up with some ideas of her own for injecting more meaning and at times levity into the performance, but she dutifully rendered the lines as Gil had requested.

The play was a period piece, set in the 1920s, and Harriet, who played a flapper, had worn a wig created in a straight black bob.  This was easily fixed to fit perfectly on Aria’s head. 

She was in the theater all day, with hardly a break, and knew she would not get home again before the show opened.

During a break, she impulsively phoned Cassie.  She didn’t need to.  She would be there tomorrow to read to her as usual, but Cassie liked to hear about her theater exploits, as she called them.  Cassie would be excited to hear she would performing tonight. Aria thought of Cassie as a friend, though Cassie was her employer. A bond had grown between them, and Cassie had always been supportive of Aria’s acting ambitions.

Later, Aria wondered what had prompted her to call.  It had been a very busy day for her, after all, and she would see Cassie the next day.

Cassie’s voice was light and uncertain.  It was only at times like this, on the phone, that Aria was reminded of how old Cassie was.  She didn’t know Cassie’s exact age, but she was in her nineties without a doubt.

In person, she was lively, vibrant, argumentative.  In fact, Aria suspected she could read well enough, though she complained her eyes grew tired very quickly.  After Aria took care of any correspondence Cassie needed her to answer, Cassie would settle herself in the blue armchair in her living room and Aria would read the very specific excerpts from books Cassie had already chosen.

Aria would enjoy reading and challenged herself to use her acting skills to infuse life into the words, playing with accents and tones as she read dialogue. Cassie would sometimes nod off during the readings. Aria had overcome her misgivings about her reading being boring, realizing Cassie found it relaxing to lie back in her chair, feet up and listen. She would often jerk awake and would probably deny having fallen asleep if Aria mentioned it. Aria never made any such comment.

Aria enjoyed the work and Cassie’s company. She felt lucky to have the job. It was a lot more pleasant than working as a waitress, and it paid well. 

She had stumbled across the ad in a trade paper she had been scanning idly a few months ago as she waited anxiously for an audition, trying to ignore the crowded room of women doubtless all auditioning for the same role. 

Among the ads for voice coaches and acting classes was one that was unique.

If you can read in a compelling and not overly dramatic voice, can write legibly, are patient and polite, and have two or three afternoons a week free, we might do business. Pay will be decent.

Aria had circled the ad, which included a phone number, then tore out the page and pocketed it.  She found it later that day after returning to her apartment, certain she wouldn’t get the part.  She was right. There was no callback.

She needed to earn money, and this was a little different from the usual waitressing and office work.  It already sounded more intriguing.

Cassie’s voice on the phone had been frail but curious as she announced she needed someone to answer correspondence for her, much of it handwritten, but help with computers would help. And she would like Aria to read to her. The pay was more than decent. Aria agreed to an interview the next day at the townhouse address. 

The house on an upscale street in midtown was luxurious, furnished with antique furniture and what looked like original paintings on the walls. But the effect was not stuffy, but modern somehow. There was lots of warm, vibrant color and a light airy feel to the large living area where she and Cassie talked.

Cassie had hired her after a conversation during which Aria hadn’t been asked for any details of her relevant work history but instead answered many questions about her acting career.

Now Cassie’s voice brightened as Aria told her about her opportunity to go on stage.

That’s wonderful, my dear.  Break a leg.  She giggled.  Oh, not appropriate under the circumstances.

Aria had told her that Harriet had, in fact, broken a leg.  Gil had become more relaxed as the day proceeded and the rehearsal went smoothly and had volunteered more information about what had happened to Harriet.  The leg had been broken in several places and had to be elevated for now. It would likely be weeks before Harriet could return to the play.

I hope you will not be too busy to come to me, Cassie continued, but I will understand, of course.

I think preparations for tonight are the most anxiety-producing for my director.  After this, it should be business as usual. I’ll be able to come to you at our regular times.

Aria had become more confident as she had gone over the scenes that concerned Gil.  She knew the part very well.  She had been a very conscientious understudy.  That was because she had found the play interesting.

Loren Gilpatrick, the male lead, had come in some time in the afternoon and they had gone over some lines together.  He had been laid back and supportive, to Aria’s relief, and was agreeable to going over the scenes they had together under Gil’s watchful eyes.  When they were finished, Loren winked and said, you’ve got this babe. 

And she did.  After the inevitable butterflies’ backstage, as soon as she walked on for her opening lines, she lost herself in the part.  There was laughing appreciation from the audience at appropriate points and the realization that she was doing just fine.

As they took their bows, Loren murmured, good job Aria.  There were four curtain calls, more than they usually had.  As the lights went up, she saw Gil’s tired but smiling face in the front row.  She breathed a sigh of relief.  He didn’t look worried.

Gil approached her backstage.  Nice job, Aria.  Well done.

No notes? she asked. 

Nothing.  You did well, he smiled.  Go and celebrate.

There hadn’t been time to let friends know, and she was glad.  She didn’t think she had the energy to go out celebrating with friends now, though she did agree to join the cast for drinks.  She could leave whenever she wanted.

Did you see Roland Blunt? Sybil Grant was asking excitedly as Aria and Loren walked into Stockton’s, the bar the cast frequented.

Sybil continued, It was hard to read his face, but he wasn’t frowning.

It’s unusual to have a critic show up mid-week, Loren said.

Hopefully he will not be too harsh, considering Harriet wasn’t here.  Oh, sorry dear.  That wasn’t meant as a putdown, but you know critics can be tough on understudies, Sybil said apologetically.

I get it, really, Aria said.  Hopefully Blunt won’t be too blunt and completely pan me.

She said it lightly.  She was still basking in the glow of a performance well done, and she could continue enjoying that feeling tonight.  A review wouldn’t appear until tomorrow, maybe even later.  She had until then to relax and enjoy the spotlight. She knew that Blunt’s review could make or break her when it came to future roles, but she wanted a night to enjoy her new status. 

She also knew there was no one else who could play the part at such short notice.  She was definitely going on again tomorrow night and until Harriet was able to take over again. 

On her way home, she decided it was time to let friends know so they could come and see her.  She sent some texts, hesitating only slightly before sending one to Silas. He had been interested in the play when she had talked about it. And he could always bring his wife.

Maybe that wish would also start to come true. She felt encouraged to dream big now that she had finally snagged a big part in a good play. At Madame Louisa’s last night, she had wished that Silas would be free to be with her. She had felt silly at the time having to write out Silas’s full name—Silas Miller - and even his wife’s name, Lily Miller. 

Aria had written that she wished that Silas Miller would be freed from his wife Lily and would want to marry her.