Witch for Hire (5 page)

"Michelle, it's Jones. We need you up here, or I think we do. Look, even if we don't, we'll compensate you for driving, but get here fast."

"Fine, but I need directions, an address, and an idea of what happened." Jones was usually more upbeat than this. He sounded serious right now.

"You don't need directions. We're at the south side of the troll preserve. Just get to the south entrance and you'll find us. As for what happened, get down here and take a look. We have a crater the size of a small house over here. Something exploded at five, and we're trying to pick up the pieces." Someone shouted in the background and he hung up before I could answer.

I hurried to grab a few extra bags of supplies, packed some food, and hit the road. Driving along the highway, a little bit over the speed limit, I started to wonder why they had called me. I hadn't been doing this very long. I'd only set up the business eighteen months ago, and while it was going well I wasn't a policeman, or a detective, or an investigator. I was a witch.
 

I was the one race that naturally had active magic that could be used for a variety of things. Most races didn't have that, humans being no exception. Humans could at best be hedge-practitioners, minor powers that required years of study, the proper incantation and tools to focus their power. Witches, on the other hand, were a matriarchal race containing both female witches and male wizards. Witches traced bloodlines through the mother, since they could always be sure who the mother was, and they valued bloodlines because some amount of power seemed to be linked to how powerful the parents were. The only way for humans, or any other race, to become more powerful than the very basic arts was to make a deal with a spirit or entity that could give them power. Sorcerers or sorceresses were very powerful, but usually unstable and given to breaking laws—and indulging in sadistic rituals. Very few sorcerers obtained their power without hurting others.
 

Other than being a witch I didn't have any amazing powers. I didn't know anything about explosives, and there were troll experts, so my information on that topic wouldn't be the most detailed. I didn't even have the extra abilities many races had. The shifters had enhanced physical abilities, senses, and could shape shift. Vampires couldn't come out during the day, but were very fast, strong, and equipped with heightened senses. The primary strength of witches wasn't their power, but rather, their clans. One witch was moderately powerful, but a group of witches was exponentially more powerful. Few were willing to harm a witch because while killing one was easy, the clan would come after the murderer.
 

A tad over half way there, it started to rain. "Great, just great," I mumbled. Slowing the car down, I started to worry. I might not be able to do them much good if it was raining at the preserve. I didn't want to lose this department because the water got in my way. I reminded myself that I'd be able to do more than Jones in this weather and that had to count for something. It also had to count for something that they didn't have to pay the big fee most of the witch companies wanted before they worked with anyone. Witches, as a whole, knew that their magic was a limited commodity, and they made people pay. I might not have all of the expertise or equipment of a clan, but I was cheaper. Truth be told, it was a rare case that needed more than one witch, and most cases that unique would be a challenge that the witch companies would fight over, just for bragging rights at the next meeting.

Thinking of meetings reminded me; I needed to send in my registration for the Witch's Southeast Spring Convention. The conventions were an important networking and learning opportunity for me. I often found new friends and colleagues, something I needed to compensate for my clanless state.

Finding the turn, I left the main road, slowly heading to the south gate. It was still drizzling, but I could work in a drizzle. When I reached the south gate I slowed down, stopping by two officers guarding the road with a barricade. I rolled down my window to talk to the officer walking over.

He leaned down to look at me. "Authorized personnel only today, ma'am. I am afraid you will need to leave."

"I'm Michelle Oaks, the witch. I should be on the list. Jones called, asking me to be here. I'm going to get my driver's license." I wanted to warn him before I moved my hands off the steering wheel. Sometimes police get nervous and accidents happen. I reached my hand to the unused cup holder where my wallet was sitting, pulled the card out and handed it to him. It helped to have things in plain sight, less room for misunderstandings.

He carefully examined the card before handing it back to me. "Let me check, Miss Oaks." He stepped back from the car, calling out to his other half. A few minutes later, after much talking on the radio, the officer came back over to the car window. "You're cleared to go in. Keep going until you see the Medical Examiner's van. You have the space next to him."

The officer moved back and they moved the barricade. I rolled past them, continuing to go slowly as I drove up the road. There wasn't much visibility because the road curved and there were trees on each side. Before too much longer the trees on the left disappeared, revealing a large fence and a field with buildings and caves scattered across a balding expanse.

A hundred feet ahead, the wall of people, cars, and equipment obscured my view of the scene. As instructed, I rolled past all of them, watching where I was driving because of all the people moving around. The spot next to the Medical Examiner was easy to find because it was the only empty space. I pulled on a light jacket, leaving the car unlocked and my keys on the passenger seat. I clipped on a name tag and called Jones because I would never be able to find him just walking around.

"Michelle, where are you?" He sounded frazzled and desperate.

"I'm parked next to the medical examiner, can you come get me?"

"On my way."

I slipped out of the car and into the drizzle. I wasn't fooled by the mist—there was more rain coming, heavy rain. I needed to work fast. My nose wrinkled involuntarily. The smell was something I had never smelled before. It was a strange mixture of smoke, burned wood, metal, and a few other things I couldn't identify.

I wasn't the only expert here, this was a police party. There were police cars, three fire engines, two ambulances, unmarked cars, cars from other jurisdictions, and two cars with military plates. People in every uniform that could possibly go with those cars, and plain clothes, like me, were scurrying around like ants. The crater had to be on the other side of the fire engine that was between me and the preserve fence line. From the mass of people running around, one separated from the pack and headed my way.

Jones looked ten years older than the last time I'd seen him; it was mostly because of the soot he was smeared with and the fatigue lining every inch of his body. I sincerely hoped I didn't look like that at the end of today.

"Michelle, thank God, you're here." His face broke into a hint of a smile. "Follow me, I'll tell you what's going on while we walk." He took a deep breath. "Like I already told you, around five, something exploded here. I know there were some real explosives, but there may have been magic involved. Anyway, with a big hole through the fence and into the ground we think some of the trolls may have escaped, but the zoo keepers won't know until we figure out who and what the two bodies are and they do a full head count. I would've thought they had a tracking device in those trolls, but I guess they've never had an escape, so no one would fund something that practical." He stopped before I could see around the fire engine.

"The bodies have been moved off to the side, but they aren't covered. I don't think you need to look at them, but this is a big hole and a lot of people are looking around." He looked worried.

This was what I loved about Jones. He considered things, like me hating being near bodies. He really was a good guy.
 

"All right, just walk me through it and we'll figure out what I need to do." With a nod he started around the truck. I followed, unsure of what I had gotten myself into.

It was nothing like what I'd expected. Two charred bodies were on the other side of the hole, with several people looking at them. The crater, which looked to be twenty feet across and nine feet deep at the very bottom, was crawling with people looking for evidence and taking soil samples. On the troll side of the crater, temporary fencing was set up, arching around to meet the regular fence. Jones stopped at the edge of the crater next to Sheriff Davis.

"Sir, Miss Oaks is here."

The sheriff was a well-built shifter. His red hair was a little shaggy, and he reminded me of a model for one of those romances that featured women being carried off by Scottish barbarians who turn out to be their dream man. He turned away from the scene in front of him. "Ah good. Everyone was clamoring to get their pet witch or favorite firm out here, but I told them it was my, or the FBI's, jurisdiction. The FBI's witches are all doing other things and you've been good to us."

"Thank you, sheriff." I hadn't spent much time around him, but he seemed like a fair man.

"Now, I'll leave the magical particulars to you and Jones, but I need some way of tracking any trolls that escaped. It's our job to figure out if those two really crispy skeletons were trolls, and if any trolls escaped." I knew from the look I'd gotten that those skeletons weren't just crispy, they were shattered. It looked like they were trying to get enough assembled to make a quick guess at race. "I need to know if magic was used in this, what for, and, if possible, I need you to track or mark the perpetrators. Send Jones to me with regular updates. Other than that, get to work." Someone called to him from across the crater, and he was gone.

"Was there any place in particular that you felt magic?" I asked.

"Not really, just around the crater."

"The entire thing?" He nodded "Thanks." Looking at the hole I considered how to find the residue. There were two ways to use magic. The most common, and easiest, way to cast magic was through runes. Runes were symbols that shaped and amplified the power used to draw them. Some practitioners could shape spells without runes, but it required more effort, control, and focus.
 

I needed to start identifying the magic in the crater before the rain picked up, and washed away the residue. The other spells I would be casting had the potential to be augmented with rituals, but this wasn't exactly a spell. I let down my shields and cast my magic out, but I made it sticky so it would cling to other magic. As the net settled across the area I shifted my eyesight so I could see it as well as feel the power.

"Jones, grab some colored flags and drift a bit of power around you. It should stick to the magic spots. Stick a flag in them and move on. I can't walk about and maintain this, but I can tell you if you're in the right spot." He nodded and moved off. If I had set this up as a spell or used runes to cast this I wouldn't be bound to one spot, but to maintain magic in a specific shape outside of my body took a lot of concentration and visualization. For ten minutes he walked across the area, stopping when he felt his magic pull, looked to me to make sure he was planting the flag in the right spot, pulled his magic off the anchor, and moved on. When Jones found the last spot I undid the magic and waited for him to make his way around the hole. There were forty-seven flags in the ground, making mostly neat circles around the center of the hole.

"Well, a spell didn't make the crater, but there was a spell involved." I sighed.

"Good job, Michelle. I couldn't have done that."

"Thanks, why don't you tell the sheriff what we found. I'm going to grab a drink and some equipment so we can work on the rest of this stuff." Jones nodded and headed off. I turned back to the car, glad I'd brought a thermos of tea. I gulped down a bit of it before picking up my regular bag and a spare bag out of the trunk. I arrived back at the edge of the big hole to find Jones already there.

"Ah, Michelle, you will be happy to hear that the zookeepers finally figured out there are ten trolls missing. The coroner hauled off the bodies while we were working and called to say that they are both trolls, so we have eight trolls on the loose. We still don't know who did it." Jones looked happy but I wasn't sure how much easier this made things for me. Tracking creatures was tricky.

"I don't know if I can track the trolls, or whoever did this. Usually you need part of that individual or something special to them for a tracking spell to work. It isn't the easiest thing to do." I felt stupid and defeated, but few other witches would have been able to do more.

"We'll work on that in a few minutes. You're forgetting, you need to figure out what kind of magic is in that hole."

"Oops." The long morning was wearing on my concentration. "Which residue was the strongest?"

"This way." Jones guided me to a flag near the center of the blast.

Kneeling down I let my power flow over and around the little glob of foreign magic. The texture of my power changed, asking the other magic what it did. A simple answer returned, "Clean." I pushed at it a bit more; getting the feeling it hadn't had enough time to finish its job.

"That was simple enough." Jones was too tired to ask, he just stared at me. "It's a cleaning spell, though I don't think it finished its job. I can't tell you what type of cleaning spell, that's all I'm going to get, but it had to be a big spell to leave this much behind."

"Eh, good enough. We've got other things to work on. Could you do something with a fingerprint without destroying it or altering it in a way that would make it difficult for us to process?" I could tell he was thinking about something clever.

"Fingerprints leave skin cells and oil behind, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I can do something with that. Can you take me to the fingerprint, or bring it to me?"

"This way."

I didn't know how many other witches had done what I was about to attempt, but it was going to be fun. He brought me to a tent containing bagged evidence and had the person in charge of that piece of evidence take it out and put it in front of me before shooing everyone away. I pulled a small piece of gravel and a grease pen out of my bag, and then I slipped my magic around the twisted piece of metal, leaving the fingerprint alone. I started writing symbols on the rock. There was nothing special about the rock; I had picked it up from one of the paths at the lodge, but then it had been cleaned and blessed. Now, I was writing runes for connection and finding. By tying the spells to the rock, the fingerprint would stay on the evidence, but the spell would know the skin of whoever left it behind. When I was finished, the oils from the pen sank into the rock, becoming a tattoo on its surface over the soft glow it emitted.