by Cassandra
Most impressive was the number of aisles that supported row upon row of supplies. She could hardly take it all in. Her eyes scanned over books, crystal balls, dry herbs, and plants of all shapes and sizes, some of which even appeared to be moving. There were other pale, white items that looked familiar.
Jessica shuddered. Are those bones? Her heart momentarily skipped a beat. Then she noticed she had lost track of her grandma while she’d been gawking.
Her gaze darted across the store until she heard the familiar thud of Ethel’s footsteps. She followed the sound and spotted her grandma strolling through one of the aisles with a basket in hand. They’d hardly been in the store for a minute, but she had already tossed several items into her basket. Peering over her shoulder, Jessica saw that her grandmother had picked up several jars of colorful ointments.
“This stuff will have Frank feeling better in a jiffy.” The old lady’s gaze was glued to the shelf in front of her. “I only need a few more,” she muttered to herself and rattled off the names of magical medications that Jessica didn’t even know how to pronounce.
She was intimidated by the place at first, but that quickly gave way to curiosity. Fascinated, she shifted her weight from one leg to the other.
“Grandma, is it all right if I look around?” she asked after a moment. Something about the shop called out to her and she didn’t feel she could tolerate standing still much longer.
“Sure. Knock yourself out.” Ethel pulled a jar off the shelf.
“Thanks.” She happily left the aisle and strolled through the store. Her heart pattered excitedly. She might not have had the slightest idea what she was looking at, but she could easily sense the magic that permeated the air. It made her skin tingle. When she stopped walking, she stood in an aisle full of magical trinkets. They looked like they would be at home in a toy store for children who wanted to learn magic tricks.
Jessica guessed that these items were far from toys.
Her gaze landed on what looked like a deck of playing cards. She examined them more closely and noticed the intricate drawings on the pack. They were far from what was found on typical playing cards. Tarot cards? she wondered.
She pulled them off the shelf. It might have been her imagination, but she thought her fingers tingled with electricity when she touched the cards. They felt heavy in her hands, so different from any others she’d ever seen.
Ignoring a feeling that she shouldn’t be doing it, she opened the small box carefully and withdrew the cards. She set the box down, fanned the cards out in front of her, and marveled at the pictures displayed on them. For reasons she couldn’t fully comprehend, she was somehow intrigued and even a little excited. She returned the cards to the box, but her mind was made up—she had to have them.
Jessica glanced down the empty aisle, then peered at the front of the store. A girl was seated behind the checkout desk with her head lowered, apparently reading. Grandma Ethel was nowhere in sight. Presumably, she was still gathering supplies to treat Frank.
She made her way to the front desk. “Hi.”
The girl looked up from a book in her lap. “Oh, hi.”
Surprisingly, the girl seemed to be around her own age with long, straight hair, bright brown eyes, a small nose, and wide lips. Something was familiar about her. Judging from the way she smiled, Jessica had the impression that she looked familiar to the girl, too.
Suddenly, she let out a small gasp as she realized why the girl looked so familiar. Her mind’s eye suddenly saw the girl sitting one row over in her economics class. They had never really spoken, but she had always thought she seemed nice.
“Jessica, right?” the girl asked.
She nodded and glanced at the girl’s nametag. “Christa? You go to Bishop Fenwick High School, right? Economics class.”
“Yep.” Christa grinned.
A quick silence settled between them, and she was suddenly uncertain about what to say. A girl she knew working at a magic shop? That could only mean she was a young witch, too. The only witches at her school she knew about were Debbie, Patricia, and Marie. By no means could she call them friends. But this girl?
What she wouldn’t give to have another girl in her life who was also a witch, especially one who might know a little more about the magical world than she did. Sure, her grandma and the demon hunters were fine, but it would be nice to have someone her own age she could talk to, for obvious reasons.
“Can I help you with anything?” Christa asked.
Jessica nodded and placed the cards on the counter. “How much are these?”
The girl tilted her head and stared at the deck for a moment. She picked them up and turned them over in her hand. Christa frowned slightly. “I’ve never seen these before. I’m covering for my mom today. Still, I’m usually familiar with the inventory here. Strange. Where’d you find these?”
“Over there.” She pointed to the aisle.
“They shouldn’t be there. Well, how about I charge you five bucks? I think that should be good enough.”
Jessica nodded. “Sounds good to me. Thanks.”
She rummaged in her pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill, which she handed over. Christa slid the cards across the counter. They felt warm and right in Jessica’s hand. She was about to ask if the other girl knew what the cards were for when Grandma Ethel’s voice floated through the store.
“Jessica? Where are you?”
“Over here, Grandma.” Jessica slipped the deck of cards into her jacket pocket.
“Oh.” Her grandmother emerged from behind a shelf and made her way to the front of the store. “Well, that’s everything.” She hefted her basket onto the counter and proceeded to pull out each jar of ointment she had selected, telling Jessica its name and function. She listened carefully, and while she did find it all rather fascinating, she knew she would forget most of it by the time they got back to the car.
“Will that be all for you, ma’am?” Christa asked once Ethel had placed everything on the counter.
“Yes, honey.”
The girl rung the items up and Ethel paid.
“All right.” She lifted her bag of ointments. “Let’s go fix that familiar of yours.”
Jessica followed her grandmother to the door and turned to call out, “See you later, Christa.”
“All right. Bye, Jessica. Let me know how things go.”
She smiled as she left.
“Franky, we’re home!” Ethel called as she and Jessica made their way through the door. A cacophony of voices greeted them. It took a moment for them to figure out where the additional voices came from. Frank sat on the couch surrounded by cats and watched an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.
He glanced lazily at them. “It’s about time. I began to think you’d forgotten about me.”
“Why, of course not.” The old lady carried the bag of ointments to the dining room table.
“What took you so long, then?”
“We had to go to the store, obviously,” she snapped. “And before that, we had company.”
Frank rolled his eyes. “Sure. Because you put everyone before me. What took you so long at the store?”
“Jessica’s never been to a magical supply shop before. I thought we could use the opportunity as a learning experience.”
“Never been to a magic supply store before,” he muttered. “Why does that not surprise me? Inadequate little…” Whatever he said next was said in a voice too low for either of them to hear.
Ethel looked at her granddaughter. “All right. Now I can understand why you tried to kill him a few times.”
“Right?”
“Ha, ha.” Frank scowled at them both.
Grandma Ethel sighed. “Let me mix this stuff up.” She headed to the kitchen with the bag and a scant few moments later, she called, “And what exactly are you waiting for? Get in here, Jessica. That’s your imp, remember? You need to learn how to do this in case you accidentally try to kill him again.”
; “Oh. Right.” She made her way to the kitchen. Grandma Ethel stood at the table with jars of ointments and potions spread out in front of her. She had placed a large mixing bowl in the center of the mess. Jessica stared at it with something close to trepidation.
Half an hour later, they had a thick purple paste. It bubbled occasionally and smelled like lavender.
“What now? Do we rub this on him or dump him in the bowl?”
“The potion needs to sit for a while. It needs to simmer so all the magical properties can seep in. Twenty minutes should do it. He’s a little guy so it doesn’t need to be too strong.”
“All right.”
“I think I could stand to soak in a nice bath for a little while. Wait.” She lifted her head and yelled, “Frank, are you hungry?”
“Duh!” he responded. “I’m starving, here.”
Ethel pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Let me fix him a plate. We have some left-overs. From last week.”
Jessica covered her mouth to stifle a snicker. Several minutes later, Grandma Ethel had produced a sandwich made from old cold-cuts rather than the fresh leftovers from the meal they had recently enjoyed.
“And you were the one who said I needed to be nicer to him.”
Her grandmother batted her eyelashes innocently. “What? The meat isn’t spoiled. It won’t kill him. Do you have any idea what imps usually eat? Here.” She shoved the plate at Jessica and left her to serve Frank while she watched over the potion.
“Here you go.” Jessica set the sandwich in front of her familiar.
“About time.” He stood on the couch and sniffed the food. “I wondered what an imp had to do to get some decent food around here. Food that isn’t meant for cats, that is.” He shot Jessica a sideways glance that she pretended not to see. She had decided that she needed to at least try to rebuild a relationship with him.
She sat on the couch beside him as he ate. The television still played The Kardashians.
“Do you like this show?” she asked.
Frank shrugged, too busy eating to answer.
Jessica watched television for a moment and waited for Frank to finish eating so he could actually talk. When he finally stopped stuffing his face and leaned back on the couch, she saw her chance.
She chose her question carefully. “Do demon hunters have short lives?”
“The bad ones do,” he answered. “Things don’t look great for you. You clearly aren’t the most talented of witches.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “I’m a new witch, thank you very much.”
Frank shrugged. “I’m only stating the facts. I will say this, though. If you intend to become a demon hunter, you’ll need to excel in all areas of witchcraft.”
“I still have to figure out my specialty.”
“You’ll need more than only your specialty.”
She paused and swallowed nervously. “But I thought witches only needed one specialty.”
He shook his head. “Every witch has a natural ability. A natural strength. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be strong in other areas. Witches who go into the demon hunting business have to learn a lot of skills. You need to have all sorts of tricks up your sleeve when you deal with demons. So you have to train outside your specialty.”
Jessica let his words sink in. “It sounds like a lot of work.”
“You think?” Frank leaned back on the couch and belched.
She felt a little repulsed but at the same time, she couldn’t deny that it felt nice to have someone else to talk to. The truth was that she needed as many magical mentors as she could get. She and Frank both looked up when they heard the drag of house-slippers across the floor. Ethel approached carrying the bowl of purple potion.
“All done?” she asked Frank.
“Yes, ma’am. It was delicious.”
Jessica eyed him curiously. Any time he was polite, he caught her off guard.
“Good. Let’s get you fixed up.”
She was surprised to see that the potion’s consistency had completely changed. It no longer looked like paste but had congealed into some sort of gel.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was a big bowl of grape Jell-O,” Frank mused. “Which would have made a nice dessert, by the way.”
“Lucky for you, I know better,” Ethel muttered.
“Yeah, I suppose so. Because Jessica surely doesn’t.”
Jessica turned a frustrated eye to the imp but noticed his expression was far more good-natured than usual.
“Come here. Sit down,” the old woman ordered and pointed to the spot directly in front of her.
The imp obeyed without comment. Ethel stuck her hand into the bowl and pulled out a glob of the potion. She lathered a healthy portion of it onto Frank’s head. It first foamed like shampoo, then slowly thinned out.
He flinched. “Goodness, that’s cold.”
“It won’t be for long.” She rubbed the rest onto his other bumps and abrasions.
“Okay. You’re right. It’s not so cold anymore.” Frank’s expression turned slightly worried. “Should it burn like this?”
“Yep. That means it’s working.”
Jessica watched, riveted. His hair began to grow back before her eyes so that his bald spot completely vanished. Then the lumps and bumps shrank until they disappeared completely.
“How are you feeling?” Ethel asked.
He ran his small hands over the top of his head, then his face. “I feel awesome.” He broke out into a dance that involved some extremely questionable hip movements.
Her grandmother laughed.
“For the love of God, Frank.” Jessica averted her eyes. “Never do that dance in public.”
Frank grinned mischievously. “Oh, don’t worry. I have even better dances that I can do in public.” He bowed and tipped an imaginary hat. “Well, ladies. It’s been a slice. Good day, or night, or whatever, to you both.” With a loud pop, he disappeared.
Chapter Eighteen
Jessica had so much to think about when the next day arrived that it all passed in a blur. Her mind had worked through everything she’d learned. The names and functions of the thirteen covens—or twelve, rather—the reason her mother had given up witchcraft, and what Frank had said about being a demon hunter. On top of that, she still needed to figure out her specialty area, or special ability.
Before she knew it, she sat in Grandma Ethel’s living room waiting for the others to arrive. The doorbell rang and Ethel led Pastor Norman, Chad, and Todd into the house.
“Ready?” Todd looked at Jessica with an excited gleam in his eyes.
Jessica blinked. “Ready for what?”
“Are you kidding me?” Chad laughed. “Aren’t you the one who insisted we wait for you to visit the rogue coven?”
“Ohhh!” Jessica slapped her forehead.
“You actually forgot?” He looked skeptically at her.
“If you haven’t noticed, there’s been a lot on my mind.”
“Well, buckle up. It only gets worse from here.”
“Why haven’t you come to school, by the way? And where’s Roger?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but Ethel interrupted. “Let’s go. I don’t want this to take all day.” She ushered Chad, Todd, and Jessica up and out the door.
“The lady has spoken. Let’s not keep her waiting.” Pastor Norman rushed for the door with the rest of them.
Once outside they piled into Pastor Norman’s truck. Ethel took the passenger seat. Chad and Todd climbed into the back with Jessica squeezed between them.
Todd leaned over and whispered. “It sounds like your grandmother has a personal stake in this fight.”
She nodded. “Three girls from my school belong to this coven, which is led by the ringleader’s grandmother, who apparently has some history with my grandma. That’s all she told me though. Not a good history, obviously.”
Grandma Ethel glanced back at her through the rearview mirror. Jessica clamped her mouth s
hut and the drive continued in relative silence.
They pulled up in front of the house that belonged to Debbie’s grandmother, Gloria McCrow. Pastor Norman turned the car engine off and they all stared at the house for a moment.
“Well.” Grandma Ethel broke the silence. “I didn’t want to say anything at first, but since we’re here now, I’d like for you all to stay behind. I want a word with Old Lady McCrow on my own.”
“But, Ethel—” Pastor Norman objected.
She held up a hand to silence him. “I think I deserve the first word.”
Chad leaned forward from the backseat. “And why is that, Ms. Ethel?”
Jessica could see her grandmother’s reflection in the window as she pressed her lips into a tight line. “Let’s say I know exactly what Gloria needs to hear to put her back in line.”
There was a hard edge to her voice that her granddaughter had never heard before. It unnerved and excited her at the same time. The air around Ethel seemed to spark with electricity. Jessica had the feeling she was about to see an echo of the badass her grandmother had been in her prime. Or would have, if the old woman let the rest of them witness it in the first place. Before anyone could say anything else, she hopped out of the car and headed directly for the house.
Jessica, Chad, Todd, and Pastor Norman all watched in silence. Ethel made her way up the porch steps and knocked on the door. The pounding of her fists echoed all the way to the car.
“Why do I have a feeling this is something I seriously don’t want to miss?” Todd asked.
“I think we all share that sentiment,” Chad agreed.
Pastor Norman drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his expression conflicted. He sighed. “I know Ethel is perfectly capable of handling herself, but I also know there is safety in numbers. These witches aren’t particularly dangerous, but still. Ethel could use a little backup. An extra measure of security, as it were.”
“What are we waiting for, then?” Jessica asked.
“For the right moment.” He peered at the house.
The old lady didn’t wait for anyone to come to the door and simply made her way through the front door without bothering to close it behind her. They could see shapes move frantically inside. She had indeed caught the inhabitants by surprise.