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Authors: Justen Hunter

West Coast Witch (11 page)

BOOK: West Coast Witch
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We all were there, still, for some time. Finally, I picked up one of the notebooks.
“Matt, meet me at the bar tonight. I’ll talk with you then, all right? And thanks
for the bacon.”

Matt stood up and clapped me on the shoulder. “All right, man. Take it easy.”

“Yea, sure thing, man.”
 
I said, wondering how the hell I would take it easy, all things considered. But,
hey, I said I would, right?

Matt left to go do the suicidally intense run he would do whenever I wasn’t up for
it. The man was in ridiculously good shape, but that’s what you got when you actually
dedicate yourself.

I seated myself back down at the table, and thought about something. “Okay, just one
minute. How did you just appear in my apartment?” I asked.

“You are the one I am supposed to protect. It requires I be near you, so that is what
it takes.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “So, you just, what, think about me, and bam?”

“Something like that.” She nodded. “But it is very draining.”

“Limited.” I crossed my arms. “Okay, so.” I recounted what I’d seen her do so far.
“You can teleport, do that…voice or whatever, thing. What else?”

“I can heal people.” She said. “Notice how your bite wound is mostly healed, even
without it being bandaged?”

I thought about that, and I touched my neck. There it was. It had only been two nights
ago, and it felt nearly as good as new, though I could feel the scars that had appeared.
 
“Wow.” I murmured. “I hardly noticed that.”

“That is one of my more subtle abilities.” Amy noted. “As for the rest, they are minor
and often inconsequential.” It sounded as if she was just dismissing these. Curious.

“So, uh, last night, I visited the Last Drop.”

She winced. “Oh, you stupid, stupid witch.” Amy ran a hand through her hair. “Why?
What could have compelled you to go there?”

“Curiosity.” I shrugged. “I got information.”

“Like what?” She asked.

“Like, that Sam Coolidge had a fight with someone at the club the night she disappeared.
And, she went home in a cab.” I said. “Oh, and that she was a werefox who liked vamps
biting her. I don’t understand the appeal, but hey. Maybe it’s better when someone
isn’t trying to suck the life out of you.”

Amy smiled. “So I have been told.” She said. “And what was the price asked of you
for this information?”

“A favor, for Count Ishmael.” My subconscious ate at me, nagging at me for not telling
her about Teresa.

“And you accepted?” She shouted. “Oh, you stupid, stupid witch!” She groaned.

“What? What’s wrong with a favor?”

Amy stood up. “It means that you are supernaturally indebted to the man. You have
a small link with him now, and it means that there can be repercussions if you break
your word.”

“Repercussions?” I furrowed my brow.

“Yes. A broken word is worse than many a crime in the Arcane world. You could end
up in serious trouble.”

I sighed. “Well, it’s just a favor. We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it.” I
remarked. “Now, I want to eat my breakfast, and then I’m going to shower. And then
we can do magic, all right?”

Amy sighed. “Very well. I do say, however, that you are a stupid, stupid witch.”

“Why do I have the feeling I’m not the first ward of yours you’ve referred to as such?”

“Because you inherit this particular trait from your mother.”

I chose to not answer but think on it. I ate my breakfast in silence, and then showered.
I dressed in one of the bar’s t-shirts and a pair of jeans, since it was a work night.

When I came out, Amy had laid out both the books on the small table.

Amy had also cleared away my kitchen floor. She had a bag of salt from one of my cabinets,
as well as a number of candles I had saved from back when I was still dating.

“So, what’s this?”

“The tools for your first spell, Eric.” She answered. “You have the brush still?”

“Yea, despite the guy from last night who tried breaking in.”

“What?” She snapped. “Someone tried to break in?”

I sighed. Yea, I had forgotten to mention that. “Uh, yea. One of the guys from yesterday
at Francis’s office broke in. I think that he followed me home or something, and was
looking for the brush. Why? I can’t say.”

“Another mystery among many.” She sighed. “Very well, bring the brush. Let us get
to work.”

I went to my dresser, and grabbed the brush. “So, explain this to me. Walk me through
it.”

“Certainly.” She said. “Symbolism is important. We have a part of Sam here, in this
brush. What we’re going to do is create a link between one of her hairs and her.”

“All right. And the salt?”

“Salt is part of the process. What we are doing here is pretty advanced, at least
for your experience. Salt is a magical substance, a containing element of sorts. We
can use it to make a circle to harness magic for the ritual. Ready to begin?”

“Just tell me what I need to do.” I said.

“Pour the salt in as near-perfect a circle as you can, large enough for you to kneel
in. It should be large enough for you to spread your arms out, and still have them
not leave the circle.”

I walked to the center of the kitchen, and stuck out my arms to guess how big of a
circle I would need. Then I grabbed the back of salt, and started to pour. It took
me a few tries to get it how I wanted, but after a few minutes, I was able to make
a big enough circle.

Under her instruction, I put five candles at various points on the circle. “Okay,
what’s with this?” I asked.

“You are creating a pentagram, a symbol of magic.” She gestured with her hands, and
drew a five pointed star in the air. “The different points represent the elements.”

“Fire, water, earth, air, and...well, whatever you call the last one, depending on
your mythology.”

“Correct,” She nodded. “I have always preferred the descriptor of spirit or void.”

I nodded, and lit each candle. The smell of vanilla filled the air. “Okay, so, now
what?”

She reached into the bag, puling one last item. It was a battered compass. “You will
need something to focus the results of the spell. The compass will be the focus of
the spell. If we can successfully cast it, the needle will home in on Samantha Coolidge’s
position.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

She clicked her tongue in a scolding manner. “Positive thoughts. Positive thinking
is at the heart of magic. If you do not have confidence, why should the magic come
to you?”

“What, are you saying magic has an ego or something?”

“It is all about self-fulfilling prophecies, Eric.” She moved to sit up on my counter,
looking down at me. “Think about it. Magic is based on thoughts, and your own mental
energy. If you do not believe in yourself, your mind will believe you will fail, and
so the magic will not come.”

“Whoa.” I thought about that for a moment. “That’s actually pretty thoughtful.”

“Indeed.” She nodded.

Amy walked me through the rest of the process. I put the compass in front of a candle,
and used a rubbed band to fasten one of the hairs to the compass. It seemed a little
weird, but Amy explained it all out, the symbolism of tying what we wanted to find
with the method of locating it.

When everything was set up, she started to instruct me. “All right, the first thing
you want to do, is like before, close your eyes and open your senses. However, this
time, there will not be a lot of magic for you to sense. The circle will help contain
it, so you can gather it easier.”

I closed my eyes, and started to relax myself. I focused , trying to reach out and
sense the magic. It wasn’t like it was in Pax two nights ago. There was no hum, no
real feeling of the powerful energy. Instead, it was silence.

“I don’t sense it.” I told Amy.

“It is nowhere as strong here as it was in Pax. You need to wait, listen for it. It
will not be a roar, but a whisper. Tiny little strings of magic.”

I did so. I relaxed myself, letting myself sink further and further into the senses
of magic. It was like drifting in a pool, early in the morning before anyone else
was there. Tranquil, quiet, with little to nothing to feel.

And suddenly, there it was. I felt it at the edge of my senses. It felt like a string
just rubbing across the pad of a finger. Whether I just smiled in my head, or physically,
I couldn’t tell.

“I feel it.” I reported to Amy. “It’s like a string, or something like it. Just a
strand.”

“Take it, Eric.” She said. “Take a hold of it, imagine yourself wrapping it to your
will.”

I made a small hum, not wanting to take my mind away from the strand further. I brought
my mind back to the strand. I imagined taking it with one hand, and slowly wrapping
it around my finger. Tying it off simply, at least in my head, I tugged on it.

Power, just a trickle of it, flowed into me. It was fantastic. I had never felt anything
like it. It was like ice water dripping down my spine, chilling me, while it warmed
my fingers and made them crackle with life.

“Take it into you, and let it fill you.” She said. “Now, focus that energy into the
compass. Imagine it in front of you, and put your energy into it.”

I tried to think about it. I focused my thoughts on the compass, and wiled the energy
to go to it. My brain could imagine the link between the two, like a plug or an aqueduct.

But it didn’t work. I pushed and pushed, tried to force the energy into it, but it
wouldn’t budge from me. It felt hotter now in me, constantly raising my temperature.

“You are chewing your lip.” Amy said into my ear. “What is wrong?”

“I’m trying.” I grunted. “But it’s just not going into the compass.”

“You are forcing it. You cannot force magic. Stop. Let it go.”

“What?” I snapped. “What’s wrong?”

“Let go of the power. Cut it loose.”

I figured I would just ask later, when I wasn’t deep in thought. I imagined myself
tossing the string away, cutting it off of me. When I did, it was scorching hot, and
it singed where my imaginary fingers touched it.

My eyes shot open, and I grasped my hand. “Aw, son of a bitch!” I hissed. “That hurt!”

“Yea, it did.” Amy was standing just outside the circle. “Stand up, and let me see
your hand.”

I did so, and I stepped out of of the circle. On two of my fingers, where I had imagined
grasping the string, there was a fine red line, a little burn. “What? I thought that
was just in my head.”

“The magic makes it real, Eric.” She said. “Magic cannot be forced. What you have
to do is channel it. Make it into a stream that slowly puddles into the focus. You’re
not ready to push magic like that, not yet.”

“What happens when I push magic?” I asked. “When I force it?”

She smiled. “Another day, in the future, I will explain.”

I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? You just can’t tell me?”

“That is a more destructive manner of magic than I am willing to teach you right now.
Better you grasp this simple magic first, than you try something foolish like trying
to blow up something.”

I laughed a little. “Blow up stuff? Seriously?

“Indeed. But you are definitely not ready for that. Making magic actually manifest
into something like a shield or a fireball takes practice. However, it is a very powerful
tool.”

“Could my mother and grandmother do that?” I asked.

She nodded. “They had to. Magic is a powerful force. Magic, for the most part, is
untapped most of the time. It stores energy, waits for a witch or other to tap it.
When harnessed and directed, it is explosive. Not only is it powerful, but it is fast,
and it ignores the resistances Arcanes can have to physical damage.”

“So, magic affects all things equally?”

“I would not say that. But it does level the playing field. Fire, especially.”

I nodded. “Fire. What’s so special about fire?”

“All things are equal in fire, Eric.” She said. “Everything burns.”

I nodded. “So, can we try again with the spell?” I asked. “I’ll try again, won’t try
forcing anything.”

“Give it a few minutes.” Amy said. “Then we will try again.”

I went to the sink and put my burned fingers under some cold water. “So, what’s with
the fact that you didn’t come into the circle?” I asked.

She shook her head as she replied.. “Salt is a barrier to things that are not totally
corporeal.”

“Beg pardon? How’s that work?” I asked.

“Salt has properties that blocks things that are not corporeal, or at least, not completely
so. Ghosts, Fae, they cannot cross barriers of salt.”

“And you can’t?”

“It is one of my rules. I cannot cross a salt barrier.”

I reminded myself to keep that in mind in the future. “So, when you say I have to
let the power flow like a stream into the compass, what do you mean?”

BOOK: West Coast Witch
12.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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