The Vaga Read Online Free PDF

She gestures towards me.
    ‘What do you mean I’m glowing?’ I look down at my body, but I can’t see anything obvious.
    Uncle Jo narrows his gaze, trying to see what Aunt Lily is talking about. ‘I can’t see it,’ he says, as if squinting his eyes will make it clearer.
    I roll my eyes. ‘There is no glow. And can you stop glaring at me like that?’ I say, exasperated.
    He sits back but continues to watch me closely.
    My skin prickles suddenly and I make a move to stand.
    ‘Hey, where are you going?’ Uncle Jo asks.
    ‘Ama’s here,’ I reply.
    ‘Oh. Okay, well we’ll talk later then,’ he responds.
    I ignore his comment like a sore tooth. ‘Sorry, Aunt Lily, but she can’t hold her form for too long.’
    She grabs my hand gently as I pass her. ‘I know. It’s fine. We’ll have another catch up later.’
    I squeeze her hand before making my way into the house—originally a three bedroom worker’s cottage that had been sitting abandoned for years. When we moved in it had started to dilapidate in areas that technically shouldn’t have still been standing. The floors were crooked and roughly cut, some doorframes had a lean to them that made them impossible to close. There were unexplained missing pieces of molding and other oddities all over the house, and it had a gnarly old spice cupboard smell to it that infiltrated your nostrils every time you breathed in.
    But the witch in me loved it—the little idiosyncrasies you’d find in every room, the character it exuded within its flaws. The clincher though was the private and uninterrupted woodland backdrop, a must for me if it’s to feel like home, even if it is just a temporary one.
    When we moved in I was chosen to be the designated decorator, with a little help thrown in from Aunt Lily. You’ll find a bit of me in every room, usually in the form of a throw rug here, an antique wooden chair there, an assortment of old books and knick-knacks that give the rooms a homey feel.
    Walking past the small but cozy living room, with its pale yellow walls and leadlight French windows, I make my way down the narrow hallway to my bedroom.
    ‘Ama?’ I say, stepping into the room and sensing the uncertainty in the air.
    ‘Elena, darling, how are you?’ she asks. Her ethereal body gliding towards me as if she’s riding on a cloud of air. She hugs me warmly, and as she pulls away her eyebrows rise ever so slightly. ‘Are you feeling alright, Shem?’
    Moving towards my purple, fifties-inspired sofa, I say, ‘Yeah, of course. Why?’
    She flicks her graceful hand in the air. ‘No reason. It’s just that you are emitting something.’
    Sitting down, I shove my legs under me and groan, ‘Don’t tell me I’m glowing?’
    She tilts her head to the side and a few seconds pass before her eyes widen. ‘Yes. That’s it. You
are
glowing. It’s a little bit like the time you got your first period actually.’
    ‘Ama!’ I say, surprised.
    She holds her hands out. ‘Well it is. The colours are all intermingled and writhing through one another.’
    I swear this family has no shame.
    She comes to sit beside me, crossing her legs and clasping her hands in her lap. ‘So…what’s going on?’
    ‘What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,’ I scoff half-heartedly.
    ‘I see,’ she says so slowly that it feels like time is hanging in limbo.
    My powers begin to heighten out of frustration and Magi enters the room, watching me with concern.
    Ama senses it. ‘Now calm down, Shem. I’m not trying to interrogate you. It’s just that…there is something stirring. I can feel it in my bones.’
    Magi plonks herself down next to me and the action of patting her head calms me. ‘Don’t know if you’ve noticed, Ama, but you don’t have any bones.’
    ‘Yes, thank you, Elena, for sharing your keen observation skills,’ she replies sarcastically, giving me her famous one eyebrow cocked glare.
    I shrug. ‘No problem.’ The banter lightens my mood, if only