Paranoia, Pixies and Prophecies Page 7

  Which was true- as long as “a lot better” also included a plethora of near-death mishaps. But I had taken all of those in stride and decided that it just meant my magic was coming to me more and more easily now.

  Hopefully, it would do me a favor for once and help us find Magda.

  Luckily for us, there was no one else home when we got back which was, admittedly, highly unusual nowadays. It seemed that between Deedee, Mom, Grams, Marcella, and Tanya, someone was always trekking through the house or searching for ingredients in the shed out back. But I decided not to question the strange stillness and instead take full advantage of it.

  Admittedly, I was a little excited to finally try out a spell for myself, all alone. Of course, Hunter did have plenty of magical experience and, despite his newfound lack of powers, he would be able to help me out if something went drastically wrong.

  Hopefully.

  “Okay,” I said once we’d made it out the shed, clapping my hands together as I surveyed the vast amount of spell books at my disposal. “Should we use the grimoire, do you think? Or find a different spell?”

  “Grimoires can be tricky,” Hunter replied, crossing his arms to examine the books just as I was. “Sometimes they backfire unknowingly depending on how the ancestor who wrote them feels.”

  I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out exactly what he meant for myself before asking him to explain further. Unfortunately, thirty seconds later I was still stumped, and I had to turn to Hunter questioningly.

  “You know, on the other side,” he shrugged nonchalantly as if that was meant to explain it all.

  “The other side,” I repeated. “As in, the place people go when they die, the other side?”

  “Yep.” I was growing pretty tired of his casual head nods when he was clearly leaving something out of the conversation.

  So I smacked him on the bicep. That got his attention, finally and he turned to me, laughing.

  “Okay, fine,” he chuckled. “A grimoire is a spellbook that a line of witches creates, right? Spells that only the family themselves should know about and use. Well, if one of your ancestors say, a great-great-uncle who’s been dead for fifteen years, just so happens to be upset with the way you’re using the spell or living your magical life, it can get a little, um, hairy.”

  “What does hairy mean in this context?”

  “Let’s just say I once knew a guy who grew an entire second set of arms, and he couldn’t get rid of them without chopping them off.” Hunter grimaced at the memory.

  I, on the other hand, wanted to throw up.

  “Okay, no grimoire,” I replied. “Got it. How about this one?”

  I stepped forward and plucked a book from the shelf. The title on the spine read Location. I assumed that meant it would have something to help us out.

  “Let’s take a look,” Hunter shrugged, flipping it open and reading through the table of contents.

  Unfortunately for us, Location had nothing of value. Neither did Finding People, which I probably should have guessed from the rather obvious title, since obvious titles were always very misleading in the world of magic.

  In fact, Hunter and I searched through five different spellbooks before we finally found one that had something useful.

  Of course, it was titled Finding Those That Do Not Want to Be Found and Other Nefarious Things, which was nearly enough to turn me off from opening it all together. Why Grams and Mom possessed something like that was beyond me, but all I had to do was hope that it had what we needed inside of it.

  It seemed to. All the way at the very back of the book was a spell that was meant to be used for finding those who didn’t want to be found. And, in my completely unbiased opinion, Magda did not seem to want to be found.

  “Alright, we need mugwort, eel’s eyes, and a pot full of natural spring water that has been salted to the nth degree,” I read out the list of ingredients. “How are we supposed to know what the nth degree is here?”

  “We just dump enough salt in the water to make it smell like the ocean,” Hunter shrugged. “You get the other ingredients, and I’ll go to the creek in the forest and grab the water?”

  “Perfect.”

  I grabbed all of the ingredients the spell called for, needing to search through a few cabinets to find them before Hunter could even return.

  So, while I waited I decided to take the opportunity to do a little bit of snooping in our family grimoire, armed with my newfound knowledge about how these spells worked.

  I had to admit, the whole idea of the other side had shocked me. It probably shouldn’t have, I know, seeing as I’d been faced with a million things that were much harder to believe in than ghosts.

  But I’d never liked the idea of the deceased and their spirits. I knew, rationally, of course, that ghosts couldn’t automatically be evil, or else someone would have found a way to rid our world of them by now.

  But the very idea of an invisible spirit floating around the room without my knowledge made me shiver so much my teeth chattered. I managed to set myself on edge, peering into every single corner and looking for a telltale white glimmer or some other sign of the ghostly souls that existed beyond my view.

  “I got the water,” Hunter announced, scaring me so badly I launched into the air and slammed my head into the bottom of an old wooden shelf.

  One that was apparently so old it had been eaten half to death by termites or mice, because the entire thing came crumbling down on top of me, sending dust and books cascading down over my head.

  “Ouch,” I groaned, rubbing my crown, where a rather massive copy of The Creatures of Outer Space and Beyond had slammed down on me.

  Some other day, I’d have to come back out here and read all about the creatures of outer space.

  “Are you okay?” Hunter asked, running over to help pick up the mess and also ensure I hadn’t accidentally given myself a concussion.

  “Fine,” I promised as he stared into my eyes, trying to discern whether or not I could still follow his movements.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Hunter, I’m fine,” I reassured him again, pressing on his shoulders gently to get him to back up. “Just a little worried about ghosts, it all.”

  “Oh! Don’t worry about those.” He waved his hand as if the existence of ghosts was not a big deal at all.

  “Me? Worry? Never!” It was meant to be convincing. At least, I hoped it was convincing.

  It definitely wasn’t convincing, and I was only assured of that when Hunter swiveled his head around to raise an eyebrow at me. “They only come out on Halloween night, anyways.”

  “Oh, okay,” I sighed in relief. At least now there was only one night a year where I needed to worry about the nefarious spirits that existed.

  “Exactly,” Hunter nodded as sincerely as possible and then shoved his hand against his mouth to try and hide his smile.

  Which told me that he was faking me out.

  “Liar!” I accused him. “Let’s just do this spell so I can take my mind off of ghosts for a minute, alright?”

  “From ghosts to missing women,” Hunter laughed. “What a life.”

  9

  It turned out that the spell was extremely misleading in its simplicity. Which was to say, of course, that it wasn’t simple at all.

  Though it only contained three ingredients, we had to chop them up into tiny pieces, mash them into the boiling salt water, and then pour the concoction over a picture of Magda. Thankfully, Hunter had gotten one from Bruce before we left his home, and about an hour after we’d gather all of the ingredients, the boiling, disgusting mush was ready.

  “Alright,” Hunter nodded, gathering the pot in his hands, paying no mind to the fact that it was burning hot, and getting ready to pour it over the photo. “You’re ready with the words?”

  “Yep,” I nodded. I had the spell book open and ready on my lap, and I sucked in a big breath before I started to read the words out, while Hunter simultaneously poured our concoction
. “Quarere a Magda.”

  And then…

  Absolutely nothing.

  We just sat there, with a wet floor and a dissolving photograph, waiting for something big to happen. I expected some sort of show like there had been when Marcella had performed the spell to search out the fae who had stolen our grimoire. A puff of smoke or a reflection suddenly forming in the puddle at our feet.

  Something to show us that the spell had worked.

  Just as I was about to stand up and tell Hunter that this was clearly a bust, and we needed to find some other way to get Magda back, or at the very least talk to her, a high pitched whine started to fill the room.

  “What is that?” Hunter demanded, dropping the pot and clasping his hands over his ears.

  I squinted in pain and did the same, trying to block out the high pitched noise before it caused my eardrums to burst wide open and spill blood all over the floor. My hands did no good, though, and the whine continued, permeating my skin and sending waves of pain throughout my head.

  “Is this the spell?” I hollered over the sound.

  Hunter shook his head, incapable of forming words at the moment.

  A split second later, the high pitched whine grew louder, and the liquid on the floor slithered around to form a massive sphere with what remained of Magda’s photo at its very center. The sphere hung in the air for a moment, and I was sure that was it. The spell had worked, it had only taken a moment to really kick in.

  And then the ball exploded, showering Hunter and I in red hot goo, and covering every single inch of our tiny garden shed.

  So much for that plan.

  “Dammit!” Hunter growled as soon as the whine had subsided. We were both covered in a sticky layer of nasty slime, and absolutely no closer to finding Magda then we had been ten minutes ago.

  “So much for that plan,” I sighed, sliding down to the floor. A gross squelching sound accompanied the movement, but I couldn’t even bring myself to care.

  “We may not have found her, but we do know something important,” Hunter said, stepping over a puddle of goo to sit next to me.

  “What’s that?” I asked. “That my powers aren’t as great as I had hoped?”

  “No.” Hunter shook his head, looking out over the goo with an expression that was far too happy considering our spell had just failed us completely. “Magda’s a fae.”

  “How did you come to that conclusion?” I demanded, replaying the spell over in my head. Had he caught a glance of something in the sphere before it had exploded? How had I missed that?

  “Our tracking spell self destructed,” he explained as if that fact wasn’t completely obvious to anyone with half of a brain. “That only happens when a witch is trying to track a fae. That’s why none of the spells Bruce was using worked.”

  “And he doesn’t know that?” I replied.

  “It’s not a very well known fact,” Hunter grimaced, glancing down at where his hands were balled up in his lap. “There are some things the Council doesn’t really want the general public to know.”

  “How very dictatorial of them,” I growled.

  Listen, the Council would never be on my list of top ten favorite entities in the Universe, but more and more, they were working their way to the top of the list of my top ten hated ones.

  Before Hunter could explain any further, the door slammed open, and Mom and Grams rushed in, spinning around and searching for something.

  “What was that explosion?” Grams demanded as she whipped around in a circle like a prima ballerina. “What in God’s name has happened here?”

  “We had a little magical mishap,” I explained, motioning to my entire body and the goop that covered it. “Normal stuff, no big deal.”

  Mom paused and sniffed at the air before turning suspicious green eyes on me.

  “You were making a tracking spell,” she accused. “And it self-destructed. Why were you searching for a fae?”

  “I thought you said that was a little known fact,” I muttered to Hunter.

  “Your family seems to know plenty of little known facts,” he hissed back.

  But our private conversation did absolutely nothing to stave off the accusing glances. Which were now coupled with looks of disgust as Mom and Grams discussed just how they were going to get the shed clean.

  “Sordidumnae!” Marcella announced, whirling into the shed with her usual attitude. “Man, this place is nasty.”

  Instantly, all of the goo that covered the shed, and the stench that it brought along with it, inched into a massive ball and then flew out the door, disappearing off to God knows where. The witch caught a tiny bit of it between her thumb and forefinger before it could fly out.

  “I was about to get to that spell,” Mom told Marcella.

  “I thought I’d take care of it for ya,” the older witch shrugged. “The stench was beginning to invade my bedroom.”

  Marcella pinched and pulled at the goop between her fingers before she turned to Hunter and me.

  “And who were you two searching for?” She asked calmly.

  The fact that Marcella, quite literally, always knew what was going on both astounded me and made me laugh out loud. Thank God I hadn’t known her when I was a teenager, or I would have never gotten away with a single rebellious thing.

  I mean, I still got away with very few rebellious things, but the list of five probably would have been a list of zero.

  Hunter and I shared a look, debating whether or not we should share everything now that Magda’s disappearance was tied in with the portal I’d been seeing. But I knew that they would find out at some point or another, and it was always better to tell them sooner rather than later, so they didn’t feel left out.

  Or get mad. It was a toss-up between the two.

  “Hunter started a P.I. business!” I announced, deciding to share the good news first.

  “Uh-huh.” Mom nodded. “And what’s the bad news?”

  Damn, these women were good. I suppose this is how Mom and Grams must have felt when I’d been on my first search for answers.

  “My first case hasn’t gone quite as well as we expected,” Hunter replied, and then turned to me.

  The look in his eyes was clear. This was my story, and he didn’t want to be the one to tell it. The gesture itself was sweet and thoughtful though when it came to my family, I probably would have preferred he be the one to let the news loose.

  “The bad news is that she seems to be looking for the veil,” I explained to Mom. “And, uh, well, it would also appear that I’ve been seeing the veil at random times. Or something akin to it, at least.”

  The garden shed was so silent I could have heard a pin drop, which was a stark contrast to the noise pollution that had just assaulted Hunter and me minutes before.

  The expression on Mom and Marcella’s faces were so shocked they were almost comical, while Grams looked like she wanted to faint.

  “I take it by your faces that you already know what the veil is?” I asked.

  None of them said a word for a very long moment and instead just continued to stare at me as if they’d been frozen in time.

  “Yes!” Marcella gasped, suddenly realizing that someone ought to answer my question. “Yes, I do know what the veil is. And you’re seeing it? How? Oh my God, you’re seeing it! What does this mean?”

  Marcella whipped around to Mom and Grams, directing the last questions toward them as if Hunter and I had suddenly disappeared. The three of them continued to carry on a rather whispered conversation, seeming to forget that Hunter and I were still right there.

  “Nope, no worries at all,” I announced loudly. “We don’t need to hear what you’re talking about at all.”

  Hunter poked me in the side, though I could see he was chuckling at me.

  But I couldn’t help it! They had decided, once again, to try and leave me out of conversations that were all about me.

  This time, though, I took matters into my own hands, striding across the tiny sh
ed until I was right next to them. Of course, the three witches fell silent the moment I came close, turning to me with wide, innocent gazes.

  “Whatcha talking about?” I asked, making my voice just as innocent as their expressions.

  They were silent, glancing around their little circle as if having a mental debate. Finally, Mom turned to me, grabbing my wrist, and then started to yank me toward the house.

  “You need to tell us everything,” she announced. “And now.”

  Without much further prodding, I did, hoping that they’d be able to give me some answers once they knew everything that had been going on.

  Unfortunately for all of us, none of them knew what to say. They didn’t know how I could conjure the veil up purposefully, nor did they know why I saw it in the first place. In fact, Marcella said she’d never even heard of a non-fae being able to see the veil, which just led to more questions that could only be answered by another halfling.

  One that knew a great deal more than Tanya did, unfortunately.

  10

  Our questions about the veil remained unanswered for the next two days. Hunter continued to try and track Magda down in any way he could possibly think of, utilizing one of us to perform spells when he needed it. Unfortunately, any and all tracking spells we tried to perform kept self-destructing, which definitely wasn’t a good omen.

  As a distraction, Grams had decided that the four of us needed a girls' night. Honestly, I had a sneaking suspicion that was really just code for a Hunter free night, but I wasn’t one to complain.

  Especially since Grams offered to take me to my favorite sushi place for dinner. That was an absolute rarity since my family had some sort of secret grudge against people who consumed raw fish.

  Actually, it wasn’t so much of a secret as an out and out grudge, origins unknown.

  Of course, the sushi place I loved was also smack in the middle of downtown, which meant it was almost impossible to drive to on a weekend night. Most of the time, we’d end up parking two or three blocks away and walking over.