If the Broom Fits (3 page)

“Once a subject's magical ability is stripped and completely removed, they may never magically regain the same ability (see page 407). Trying could result in your own binding as the spell bounces back from the intended. This spell should be used only in the most severe cases. It is a last resort as it cannot be undone.”

Well, it looked like we were off to a fantastic start.

I flipped to page 407.

“After a witch's powers have been removed the same ability can never again hold to the witch. It is possible for her to learn new abilities and rebuild strength unless all magic was completely wiped away. Do not relinquish magic lightly. Even when done of free will, it cannot be regained.”

I flipped the book shut, rubbing the spot on my chest that felt tight. It was hopeless. I should have held onto denial longer.

“Did you find something?” Katrina asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing in here.” My voice was thin and wispy. I picked up the next book, though I didn't have the heart to open it.

I was never going to get my magic back. How was I supposed to tell the rest of them that?

I
narrowed
my eyes at the opening gate. Too convenient was never a good thing. Was it a spell? Had they been enchanted to only open for me? If so, Leslie's trap theory was sounding more and more likely. I craned my neck side-to-side, looking for a caretaker or anyone who could have opened the gate, but as far as I could see there was no one else here.

“It's not a trap,” Orion's baritone voice came from the other side, though I couldn't see him.

“Why don't you come out here and talk to me?”

The snow and wind picked up, making a cloud of white that was impossible to see through. I pulled my wool hat down further on my head and held my spot. The end of my nose tingled with cold and my sinuses burned. I had been around enough witches not to be impressed with this little display of strength.

“I'm waiting,” I yelled into the wind.

It died almost immediately. Directly in front of me, but still on the other side of the invisible line in the driveway, was Orion himself, as attractive and unfazed by the cold as ever.

“You're a testy little hobbit, aren't you?” His eyebrows pulled together. “I thought you were satisfied with your answers? What brings you out here?”

I glared at him over the hobbit remark. “I changed my mind. I want to know more.”

A smiled melted over his lips. “Of course you do. But be careful what you wish for.” He walked off with long easy strides.

I waved my hand over the line where the gate would have been. Nothing felt strange. The gates groaned back to life and began to close. Leslie scrambled out of the car and we stepped through just before they closed again.

“What about the bags?” she said.

I shook my head. “We'll try to get them later.” My gaze was still glued to the unmarred path to the house Orion had taken.

“So I take it
that
was the spirit guide?” I didn't bother answering. “I get Grandma Erma and you get a L.L. Bean catalogue. How is that fair?”

I started forward. “You had parents. I had the clothes on my back. How was
that
fair?”

She hugged her arms around herself a little tighter, probably to keep from reaching out to me. “I'm sorry.”

I shook my head. “Don't worry about it. Just stay by me. I have no idea what to expect in here. We have to be ready.”

We took the porch stairs slowly, eyeing the structural soundness of the old house. The wood on the steps felt strong and firm. There was no give under my feet. How was that even possible in a house that had sat empty for thirty years?

Someone had been taking care of the house and farm and it wasn't Orion. If he could only come back to earth during winter storms, someone else had to be doing most of the work around here because nothing about the house looked in disrepair. “Better yet, stay a few steps behind me,” I told Leslie.

I peeled off a glove from one hand, preparing for an attack. The cold bit into my skin and numbed my fingers. The doorknob was coated with ice that clung to my gloved hand as I turned it. Unlocked. I pushed it open with my shoulder.

I stepped just over the threshold. “Hello,” I called out.

“Tell me what changed your mind?” Orion purred in my ear, but when I snapped around, he wasn't there. Only Leslie was—too close. I could have accidentally touched her. “I said to stay back,” I snapped.

She backed away, holding up her mittened hands. “Is this far enough or should I wait in the snow?”

I took several deep breaths. “Just let me check the house then you can come in.”

“Fine.” She bounced up and down, rubbing her arms.

I went back inside, scanning the rooms for Orion.

“I want to know everything you know about my mother.”

“Why? You already said you didn't want to help her.” His voice came from everywhere and nowhere.

“I don't. That's not why I'm here. I want to help myself. And if she really was a good person who made bad decisions like you claim, then I think I need to know that. But I also need to decide that for myself. I can't just take your word for it. So tell me what you know.”

He sat on a chair covered in a dusty white sheet. “Winter Darkmore. Diviner, dark arts practitioner, and all around life of the party. ” His voice ebbed and flowed with the wind outside as if it was all part of him or he was part of it, making me remember Leslie was still waiting on the porch, probably freezing to death. “You know that's how it always starts. Good intentions and wanting to save yourself.”

“What does?”

“The road you travel may not be too dissimilar to hers.”

“That's because she put me on this road.” I crossed my arms. “So that's it? That's all you know about her? I know more about my coven's cat than that.”

He laughed heartily, suddenly appearing in front of me. “You have her impatience. Why don't you ask me what you really want to know?”

I glowered. “I have. I want to know about her and what happened. Also who else is here? Who's been taking care of the house? I don't want any surprises.”

“Let's take a look.” He reached out and grabbed my ungloved hand with a knowing smile. I waited a beat for him to die (even though logically I knew he wouldn't). Why couldn't I feel him like the other undead creatures? It wasn't that I couldn't sense him at all; his presence was just more subtle and easier to miss. The one piece that identified most other undead unequivocally was missing: I couldn't control him. I could feel that truth in my marrow. No matter how strong I was, I‘d never be able to possess him. It was both disconcerting and comforting. It meant we didn't have to be enemies.

I moved stiffly as he all but dragged me around the house to prove we were alone. I tore my hand from his grip before he could pull me upstairs. “Fine, I believe you.” I went to the front door, sliding my hand back into the glove.

Leslie's teeth were chattering. “All clear?”

“Mostly.” Orion gave her a sultry smile that would have warmed many a cold heart.

Leslie rushed inside. “I'd smile back at you, but I'm pretty sure my mouth is frozen shut.”

“Yes, sorry about that. Comes with the territory.”

Leslie went to the fireplace and stooped to look up the chimney. Before I could tell her it probably wasn't fire-safe, logs that hadn't been there a moment earlier were burning and already putting out warmth. “What territory is that? All Frost told me is you are a spirit guide.” She rubbed her hands together over the flame.

“That I am, but I am many things to many people,” he said.

She gave him an impatient look I never would've guessed she was capable of. “Amaze me.”

A laugh slipped out of my mouth. So sweet Leslie had some bite in her after all.

Orion's chin lifted and there was a faintly dubious expression in his eyes. “It really depends which life we are talking about. Once I was a great hunter—but then there was a slight misunderstanding and I was turned into a constellation. So technically I am both a hunter and a celestial body. It has a nice ring to it, so much better than a lackluster star.”

This got my attention. He'd been vague with me before.

“I'm also what you refer to as Father Winter…Jack Frost…all things of that manner. You see, once, very long ago, I wasn't the humble person you see before you today.” He arched an eyebrow. “I may have threatened to kill every living creature on the planet in front of a very touchy goddess who couldn't take a joke.”

Leslie shook her head. “I can't imagine why she failed to see the humor in that.”

“A moment later I was stuck up there.” He pointed skyward. “It's dreadfully boring to watch life and not participate.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Stars are lightyears away. What time are you watching?”

“Fifteen hundred lightyears—at least mine is. Others are much further. However, this is the time I watch. I don't know how any of it actually works.”

She nodded. “The Orion nebula is beautiful.”

He winked at her. “Thanks. You're not so bad yourself.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then what happened? How did you go from stars to the king of snow?”

Leslie was so much better at this than me. Within seconds of meeting Orion the first time, I'd been fighting with him. It was the only thing I was good at. She, on the other hand, was having a conversation and getting better answers than I ever managed. Now I was stuck watching her create a more meaningful bond with my guide than I would ever have.

“Well, apparently the powers that be thought my curse had grown too easy. Either that or with time to think about it, they thought of an even more taxing punishment.” He cut the distance between himself and Leslie. “You see the gods love a good punishment. Turning someone into a star used to be a big deal, but now it's all been there, done that. However, making me pay for what I said over and over again every year for all eternity was too good to pass up. I promised I would kill every living creature, so now I bring in winter and I do technically kill the earth every year, but then I have to watch each spring as it comes back to life.”

“Proving over and over again that you can't beat them,” she said.

“Exactly.” He smiled at her and warning bells went off in my head. I didn't like it. He was my spirit guide, not hers. He should have shared these things with me.

“Well, that's great and all, but we aren't here to hear about you. It's me we're supposed to be talking about.”
Shit
. I regretted the words the moment they came out. I didn't mean them. I couldn't even say why I said them, other than because I wanted them to stop talking to each other like that. If it weren't for social awkwardness, I would have no socialness at all.

Immediately Orion's hazel eyes fixed on me and understanding began to grow in them.

“Not that we should be talking about me. I don't want to talk about me. I hate talking about me.”

“She does,” Leslie pitched in and I nodded. “Absolutely hates it.”

“What I meant was…” I swallowed trying to clear my thoughts. “I'm here to…” They both waited for me to finish, but I couldn't. Why
was
I here? I couldn't think of anything with them staring at me. “Find the spell to break my curse.”

His full lips set into a straight line. “Finally . . .your real question at last, but I cannot tell you where it is.”

I put a hand on my hip. “You can't or you won't?”

He looked at Leslie. “Is she always this contrary?”

“Eh.” Leslie shrugged.

“Just answer the question,” I snapped. “I can't. I don't know where she kept the spell, but even if I did, I wouldn't tell you how to find it. How's that for an answer?” he asked.

I rubbed a hand hard over my forehead. I already hated today. “But I thought you're supposed to guide me.”

He nodded. “You want guidance. Close your eyes.” He put his hands on my shoulders and I frowned, trying to pull away. “Close. Your. Eyes.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Fine.”

“Tell me what the room you're standing in looks like.”

“What?” I started to open my eyes, but he pressed his hand over them.

“You have been here for long enough, but you haven't seen anything. You haven't learned anything about her because you're so closed off to the world around you. As you are, the spell would be useless. You'll never break that curse.” The warmth of his hand left my face and weight lifted from my shoulder.

I kept my eyes closed and concentrated. “It's an old farmhouse that has been decorated like the evil queen's castle. Big gothic furniture that is too big for the rooms is everywhere. Happy?” I asked.

“What does the couch look like?”

“It's covered.”

“So is the gothic furniture, but you picked that out.”

I did. I could see the heavy black legs sticking out and the peaked lines. “It has wooden legs that match the rest of the furniture. I'm willing to bet it's covered with some sort of velvet, probably red.”

“Open your eyes.”

I did with a roll. “I don't know what this is supposed to prove,” I said as he pulled the sheet from the couch revealing a blood red velvet couch with heavy-looking yet graceful legs. “I was right.”

He nodded. “This house was hers. She may be dead, but she still resides in these walls and you are connected with her whether you like it or not. If you want answers you have to look beyond what you see. Look with her eyes.”

Everything went still and numb inside of me. What in the hell was I supposed to do with that? “Well, this was a waste of my time. I'll find what I came here for on my own. Thanks for nothing.”

I stormed off toward the narrow staircase so I could put as much distance between me and them as was possible in this house.

There were three doors upstairs, two of them were open and one was closed. The open one on the right was every bit as ornate and over the top as the rest of the house. The huge bed was draped in thick, dusty red velvet and almost took up the entire room. The closet door hit the foot of the bed so it would only open about halfway. It was filled with boxes and a few dresses were shoved to the corner. The clothes were what I expected: long black dresses with draping sleeves and old fashioned lace. Everything looked like a set designer's vision of a dark witch instead of a real person. But then again, maybe this stuff really was who she was. Things become clichés for a reason.

I made a mental note to come back here and look through the boxes if I couldn't find her altar or Book of Shadows in another room. The next door led to a black and white tiled bathroom. The last room on the left was the only closed door. My insides fluttered at the sight of it. I could sense something about that room, but pinpointing the sensation was impossible. Was it a magical aura, an undead one, or something else entirely? Part of me was tempted not to open it. There was plenty of house left to look through. The door vibrated slightly, rattling on its hinges.