Witch's Bell Book One (27 page)

“
A square? Did you just hop a
time machine from the ‘90s? I haven't heard that word in years.” He
started the engine, carefully checking around before he pulled out
from the curb.

“
You obviously don't hang out
with geometry students then, or builders, or framers.”

Nate paused, either paying
attention to the traffic, or to the dig.
“No, I avoid them all.”

“
You're weird, Detective, very
strange,” Ebony repositioned herself in her chair, feeling far more
comfortable in Nate's car than she had in the car of the
super-creepy cab driver.

“
Is that your opinion as a
witch, or as an ordinary person?”

Ebony didn't answer.

“
What's it like, anyway?” Nate
finally broke the silence, interest subtle, but there. “How are you
adjusting?”

“
Oh, alcohol, drugs – the
usual.”

“
Hmm, lucky I'm taking you to
the police station then. But, seriously?”

“
Seriously? Look, do you
actually care?”

Nate replied with silence.

“
Fine. It's hard – harder than
it should be.”

“
You mean you're finally
learning to cut us humans some slack?”

“
I don't know,” Ebony sighed,
more confusion swilling around her like poison in once clear water,
“it's all just so hard.”

“
I don't get it,” somehow Nate
was paying equal amounts of attention to Ebony and to the road –
without either task subtracting from the other. There was something
very odd about the way he sometimes managed to streamline tasks
like that. How he took everything in his stride like an
accomplished master, or an unwavering knight. “Is it hard being a
human, or hard not being a witch?”

Ebony sighed, very heavily this
time. He was asking questions again, and she knew from previous
experience that Detective Nate never let up. It just so happened
that the line of questioning he was directing himself along was
becoming more uncomfortable, though.
“Okay, look at it like this. All my life
I've known what I'm meant to be – a witch. And all my life I've
known how to secure that goal – through magic. Now, suddenly, I'm
not a witch, and I don't have any magic. I don't know what to be,
and I don't know what to do. I'm lost. And it's hard,” the words
settled into the car like sediment settling into water. Ebony was
starting to feel itchy all over, as it dawned on her just how
uncomfortably honest this conversation was becoming.

Nate was paying attention to the
traffic, or at least Ebony hoped he was. She didn't want his keen
concentration to be directed at her fumbling admissions
instead.

“
Right.”

Once again, Ebony simply didn't know
what he meant. Did he mean everything was alright, or the
opposite?

“
It doesn't matter though.
Because it will only be like this for another couple of weeks. Then
everything will return back to normal,” Ebony said quietly,
possibly more for her own benefit than Nate's.

“
I don't know, a lot of things
can change in a short time,” he angled his head away, checking his
driver's side mirror.

Once again Ebony was struck with the
fact she simply didn't know what he meant. What was he trying to
say? For a person usually as direct and forthright as Detective
Nathan Wall, Ebony was starting to realize just how much mystery
sat behind that square, but handsome mask.

“
Well, I guess. But I won't
change,” she swallowed, “I'm a witch ....”

“
Right.”

Ebony curled her toes. She wanted to
reach around, grab his shoulders, and shake him. What was he trying
to say?!

“
I'm curious though,” he said as
he finally turned down the street that housed the police station,
“why did they take away your magic in the first place? Seems like a
bizarre kind of punishment, especially considering the crime was
pretty light.”

She pressed her lips together.
She'd gone over this, surely. She was starting to regret getting in
the car with Mr Curious Questions.
“Because that was the punishment that they
had determined,” she rubbed at one of the bracelets, half-wondering
whether it would just pop off one of these days, and Ebony would
realize this was all just a big, bad, joke.

“
You haven't explained anything.
Why would they take away your magic – why not slap you with a fine,
or make you do some time? If it's anything like ordinary police
work, it's like they've impounded your car for doing one kilometer
over the limit.”

“
Impounded my car for speeding,”
she repeated, voice brimming with disbelief, shocked at the
analogy. “It's nothing like that. There simply isn't a
connection.”

“
Okay, so you are saying they
randomly assigned you a punishment, greatly disproportionate to the
crime?”

“
No, I'm not saying that
either.” Ebony was suddenly aware that she could hear her heart
beating in her ears. “The Coven are made up of the wisest, most
powerful witches. If they make a decision, there's usually a very
good reason for it.”

“
Okay, so then, taking away your
magic had a reason, right? Something more than
punishment?”

Ebony felt like she was a cow
being led around by a farmer, chain tugging at her nose every time
she didn't seem to be walking fast enough.
“I don't know. I mean, I guess so.”
Ebony had a sudden vision of her mother, and swallowed hard. Her
mother had never done anything on a whim. Nor had she ever done
anything for just the sake of the rules. Every witch knew that the
rules were there only to modulate power – never to direct it. A
witch couldn't let herself become the tool of anything, or anyone,
and especially not a set of laws.

That's how you created your destiny,
wasn't it? By following the rules as a guide, like the lane lines
on a road. But never as a route.

“
So what do you think their
reason was? I mean, I've been talking to Chalcedony, and it seems
that the Coven rarely give out such punishments, let alone
for—”

Ebony's mind had suddenly
become just a bit hazy. It was stuck, like a scratched record, on
three little words:
“talking to Chalcedony.”

Ebony tried to steady herself, not
wanting to be drawn into the hurricane of unpleasant memories
associated with her former best-friend. What with everything else
going on in her life, Ebony had relegated Chalcedony to a corner.
Yes, she was back; yes, she was swanning around in Ebony's job, in
her fancy high-heels and designer skirts. But Ebony had greater,
more meaningful things to worry about.

“
Ebony? What do you think?” Nate
suddenly said, voice more insistent as he pulled the car into a
car-park in the depot at the base of the police station. He turned
to look at her, and then rolled his eyes. “Spaced out again? You
really are hitting those drugs hard.” He tilted his head, eyes
narrowing with keen analysis.

He was using that competent
detective routine again, Ebony realized with an uncomfortable
chill.
“Nope,” she said levelly, opening the door
quickly.

“
Right.”

Ebony wanted to scream, but settled
for closing the door a little too hard.

Nate looked mildly amused, and
opened the car door, leaning comfortably against the door and
bonnet as he looked over at her.
“So, what do you think?”

“
About what?”

He shook his head.
“About the fact the
Coven rarely hand out punishments like this, let alone for the tiny
little crime you were supposed to have committed?”

Ebony frowned, finally
listening to what he'd just said. She'd gone over and over this in
her own mind, and had only managed to come up with one
answer.
“The
ways of the Coven are mysterious,” she said, voice trailing
off.

“
That's a convincing answer,
thanks for that, really makes things clearer. Seriously though,
don't you think there's something very strange about the way you
were punished, and the timing too?”

Ebony felt herself spacing out
again. She thought about the Coven, the crypt, Chalcedony. She
thought about the past several weeks, and the pain of having to
rebuild herself anew. If she had to admit it then she would, yes,
there was something strange about how Ebony had been punished. And
yes, there was something strange about when she'd been
punished
–
smack bang in the middle of the Month of Rites. It was almost as if
someone was setting Ebony up for a good, old round of
magical-rewriting. But that thought was enough to send a quick
shiver down her spine.

“
Are you serious?” Nate's voice
was low and brimming with disbelief “I can't believe it. You just
spaced, again. What are you even thinking about?”

“
Ha?” Ebony snapped back to
reality.

“
I've mentioned Chalcedony twice
now, both times it has sent you off in a little bit of a vacant
tizz. I call that a pattern. So, what's the deal between you two?
Not to try and drive a wedge between you, but you don't seem like
friends.”

Ebony just wanted to get to
work, as strange as it sounded, and retreat to her new castle of
files and windows. But she'd have to make it past the Questioning
Knight first.
“You really want to know? We used to be good friends – best
friends.”

“
What happened?”

“
She stole my toy.”

Nate tried not to laugh, but
his bottom lip wobbled a bit.
“She stole your toy. How old were you?”

“
Twenty.”

“
Right .... What kind of toy was
it?”

“
It was a plastic figurine,”
Ebony took several steps away from the car, trying to signal to
Nate that the conversation had run its natural course.

He finally closed the car door,
automatically flattening his tie.
“A plastic Figurine. You, a witch, ended a
friendship with another witch, over a plastic toy.”

“
It wasn't over the plastic
toy,” Ebony corrected, voice terse. “It was over the fact she stole
it.”

Nate's expression was
priceless
–
a mixture of confusion and amusement that made his usually strong
chin dimple slightly. He licked his lips. “Right. What did this
plastic toy look like? I mean, was it a limited edition Darth Vader
or Barbie?”

“
It was a little plastic
knight,” she said with a vague smile. She'd loved that knight, she
really had.

For a second, a very strange
expression crossed Nate's face. But it was gone quickly, and in its
place came derision.
“You ended a friendship over a plastic knight ...
okay. I don't get witches.”

“
No,” Ebony said, turning on her
heel, finally deciding the conversation – or interrogation – wasn't
going to end until she ended it herself. “You don't understand
women, there's a difference.”

He tipped his head to the side,
eyes slowly blinking.
“Are you sure about that?”

But before Ebony could ask him what
that meant, he turned, waved a brief goodbye over his shoulder, and
walked off.

She just stood there for a moment,
watching his departing form with confusion, annoyance, frustration,
and a world of other pressing emotions.

Argh! What an odd man! And what an odd
morning. This no-magic thing was proving to be way more trouble
than it was worth. It was making the once proud, beautiful,
elegant, sassy, and in-control Ebony a clumsy, spacey, eccentric,
emotional wreck.

Three more weeks of this and Ebony
would be a completely different person.

Feeling sick at the very thought of
it, Ebony Bell finally walked into the station, arriving for her
second day of work later and more confused than ever.

Chapter 12

Ebony was having a strange day. It was
a Friday, and technically the end of the working week, but that
didn't stop it from being strange.

Ebony had finally figured out
this whole
“public transport” thing, and had settled on walking to
work instead. She'd found a route that managed to get her from her
own door, and up to the dusty top-floor of the Vale Police
Department, in 45 minutes. And while, once upon a time, Ebony
wouldn't have ever bothered with walking such a distance – usually
using some magical luck to bum a lift, or finding some excuse to
put off the outrageously far appointment – this was no longer a
strategy she could afford to enjoy. It had taken her three days to
realize that if you knew how long it took to walk somewhere, then
you had to give yourself that much time, and a little extra, in
order to make your appointment. No longer could she rely on some
handsome wizard zooming past on his Harley, just in time to whip
her across town. Ebony had to find her own way, and in her own
time.

Despite having finally
calculated the distance and time it took to walk to the police
station, Ebony had still been late that morning. She hadn't
allotted enough
“extra” time for the extraordinary. Despite no longer being
a witch, and being consequently incapable of sensing or overtly
attracting the magical – that didn't mean she wasn't a magnet for
the weird and unexpected. It just meant that the weird that did
come her way wasn't waving a wand, chanting spells, and throwing
lightning bolts. That still left a whole universe of
mundane-strange to get all up in her face. And get all up in her
face it had.