by M. J. Caan
Torie looked around, surveying the damage.
“Hey, Jim,” she called, “was it just the two of them that did all this?”
“No,” he replied. “It was like a scene out of a television show; once they threw the first punches, everyone in the place jumped up and started fighting. It was crazy.”
Torie moved to the side of the room opposite the large fireplace. There was a small table for two that had not been disturbed. The white tablecloth was unruffled. There were two small plates, each with a slice of half-eaten carrot cake, and two cups of what appeared to be cinnamon tea. Torie looked at the setting and then glanced at the chaos around it.
Why hadn’t it been overtaken by the wave of violence that washed over everything else?
“Jim, who was sitting here?” she asked.
The owner looked at the table and shook his head. “Sorry, I don’t remember.”
Torie started to tell him that was okay, but her attention was quickly drawn to a couple who had been peering into the wrecked place through the doorway. One yelled at the other and asked him to step back. The second man apparently took great affront to being spoken to that way and yelled back in response.
“Hey now,” said Jim, stepping between them. “What’s going on here?”
“He said your oatmeal cookies taste like they have almonds in them, and I said they taste more like walnuts,” yelled one of the men. “He obviously doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
“You’re a fool,” said the second man, his voice rising. “You obviously wouldn’t know a walnut if it walked up and punched you.”
The first man bristled. “Oh yeah? How’s this walnut taste?” He reached past Jim to swing at the man, his fist just grazing the man’s jaw.
A roar escaped the one who was hit, and before anyone could step in, he shifted into a large bear, tossing Jim aside like a rag doll. The second man huffed audibly in and out of his nose. His breath sounded like the bellows of a forge, feeding a fire with its mighty wind. He shifted into a large bull, wide and muscular, the span of his horns nearly touching both walls either side of him. Someone outside screamed as patrons ran for cover.
The two shifters stared at one another, eyes glowing with hatred.
“Okay, that’s enough!” screamed Jasmin.
She stepped forward, her hands clasped in front of her. Then she quickly separated them, sending an explosive shockwave outward that knocked the two shifters away from one another.
Their massive bodies crashed into walls and stonework, shaking the shop. Each of them struggled to their feet but immediately shifted back to human form. They were groggy, unsteady on their feet, holding their heads in their hands.
“What…what happened?” asked one of the men, looking around.
“You just tried to gore your friend here,” said Jasmin, pointing at the bear shifter who was still trying to make his way to his feet.
“What? No. I…I would never do that.”
Jasmin and Torie exchanged looks. Something was definitely amiss here.
“See that little lady over there with the black medicine bag?” said Jasmin. “Why don’t you both go over there and let her look at you. We’ll talk about what just happened later.”
Torie rushed over to Jim’s side. Fionna was there, trying to help the man to his feet.
“Did you see that?” Jim said, wincing at the pain that was rifling through his body. “Just like before. I’ve seen those two in here together many times. They’re friends. But I’d swear if it weren’t for Jasmin, one of them would have killed the other.”
“He’s right,” said Fionna. “I could feel their anger. It was white hot. And there was something else as well…” her voice trailed off as a frown creased her brow.
“Fi, can you give me a hand here?” called Glen from behind the counter. She was starting to treat more of the cafe patrons who appeared to have suffered minor cuts and bruises.
“Coming!” said Fionna, bouncing for the back of the room.
“Well?” said Torie, as Jasmin walked back to her. “What did you feel?”
Jasmin shook her head. “I didn’t feel anything. Just two men about to come to blows over cookies. It makes no sense whatsoever.”
“You’ve been around supernaturals a lot longer than me,” said Torie. “Could this just be part of their normal behavior? Something you’re just now witnessing?”
“I don’t think so. I mean, they were genuinely confused as to what was going on when they shifted back to human form. Like they didn’t remember what set them off.”
Torie found herself cursing her lack of magic. Again.
Just then, the sound of heavy boots crunching broken glass beneath them interrupted their conversation. They turned just as Sheriff Max walked up to them.
“Jasmin, Torie,” he said, nodding at them in greeting.
“I thought Jim wasn’t calling you?” Torie said.
“He didn’t. Someone called into 9-1-1 to say that some of the special townfolk were having a quarrel at the coffee shop. Thought I’d see what it was about.”
He whistled as he looked around, taking in the scene.
“Care to let me in on what happened?” he asked.
“Would if I could, Sheriff,” said Jasmin. “But, honestly, we have no idea. People just seemed to flip and go at each other for a minute. But things seemed to have calmed down now.”
The big sheriff nodded and then cocked his head to the side and sniffed the air, closing his eyes.
“What is it?” asked Torie. “You pick something up?”
“Magic,” he said. “Just a whiff…now it’s gone.” Wolves were notorious for their sense of smell.
“That would be me,” said Jasmin. “I had to whip up a little force field to separate two of the combatants.”
Max nodded. “That would explain it then.”
Torie snapped her finger. “Max, I have an idea. Would you come with me?”
The wolf frowned. “What are you doing involved in this Torie? You don’t have any powers anymore.”
She started, annoyed at his bluntness. “I know that. But it doesn’t mean I can’t hang out with my friends while they do…witchy things. Anyway, just follow me.”
She led him to the back wall where the one table that had not been disturbed sat.
“Can you tell who was sitting here?” she asked.
Max looked around, to make sure no one was looking, and then leaned down to sniff the table. His face shimmered, shifting slightly; just enough to let his snout lengthen and thicken as his jawline receded into more lupine features. He took a deep breath through his nostrils, moving his face from side to side across the tabletop. Then he stood up, his face back to its normal handsome features.
“One person, female, human. Sat right there,” he pointed to the left side of the table.
“And the other person?” asked Torie.
He shook his head. “There wasn’t anyone else.”
Torie looked from one side of the table to the other, pointing at the two distinct sets of dishes.
“You can see that there are clearly two partially eaten pieces of cake sitting on two different plates. Two different cups of tea and two different sets of silverware. She wasn’t alone.”
“I can see that, but I’m telling you what my nose told me. There was only one person sitting here. This side—” he gestured to the right side of the table, “—was vacant. No smell or trace of anyone or anything.”
“That doesn’t seem right.”
He shrugged. “All I know is that I trust my nose; even more so than my eyes. And my nose says there was no one here.”
He excused himself and went back to speak with Jim, eager to take the owner’s statement.
Torie frowned and stood with her arms crossed, surveying the table. Then, glancing around to see if anyone was watching, she closed her eyes and held one hand over the table. She stood like that for nearly a full minute before being interrupted by someone clearing th
eir throat. She spun around to see Jasmin staring intently at her.
“Anything?” Jasmin asked.
Torie let out a deep breath. “No. Of course not. I don’t know what I keep hoping for.”
Jasmin smiled warmly. “Keep hope alive, my friend. I still have some ideas to help with this.”
Torie returned her smile but said nothing. She wasn’t quite ready to give up on thinking that maybe one day her magic would return, but she also wasn’t in the mood to get her hopes up only to have them dashed.
“What did Max say? Does he know who was sitting here?”
Torie shook her head. “He said there was only one person sitting here, A human woman. But no one else.”
“Huh,” said Jasmin. “That’s weird.”
“So now what?” said Torie. “Seems like there isn’t anything more to this than random violence.”
“Violence is never random. There is always a reason. We just need to figure out what it was.”
They made their way back to the front of the building and walked outside.
“I guess we could talk to the people still hanging around,” said Torie. “See if they saw anything that could explain what happened.”
Jasmin agreed, and soon they had spoken to almost everyone outside the cafe. When they finished, Fionna and Glen came out to join them.
“How is everyone?’ asked Torie.
“Bruised,” said Glen. “A few cuts here and there, but for the most part, it was all superficial.”
“Do any of them remember what started the melee?” asked Jasmin.
“No one knows anything. The two that Jasmin separated didn’t even remember shifting,” she added.
“Well, I think we’ve done all we can here. Looks like we won’t be having our usual coffee and scones here tomorrow,” said Torie. “This place is a mess.”
“I’ll swing by your place in the morning,” said Jasmin. “Like I said, there is something I want to try. You make the coffee; I’ll bring the treats.”
They headed out, past the thinning crowd that was quickly losing interest in the goings-on at one of the local supernatural gathering spots in town.
They didn’t notice the tall, pretty woman with afro-puffs that had been watching them intently through rose-colored sunglasses. Once they were in their cars and had left the drive, the young woman slipped around the back of the building where a window provided an unobstructed view of Max speaking with the shop owner.
She smiled. This was going to be easier than expected.
3
True to her word, Jasmin arrived bright and early at Torie’s house carrying an aluminum-covered plate that smelled divine. Torie ushered her in, and they made their way to the spacious kitchen.
“French press,” said Torie, waving to the coffee press filled with an aromatic brown concoction. “I picked up some organic Robusta and thought it deserved something other than a drip coffee maker.”
“You will never hear me complain about French press coffee. I just hope this will live up to it.”
She removed the foil to reveal a beautiful, rustic, French apple tart.
“I guess we both had the French on our minds today,” she said. “Here, hand me a knife and I’ll start cutting and plating this; you pour the coffee.”
Torie did as she was asked, trying to ignore the rumble in her stomach. The combination of fresh pastry and coffee too much for her.
“This is nice,” Torie said. “Honestly, I haven’t had much of an appetite lately. With everything going on, I just don’t feel like eating.”
“Or cleaning, it would seem,” said Jasmin, making it a point to acknowledge the dirty dishes in the sink.
“I’ll get to them…eventually.”
Torie poured two coffees and sat the cups on a serving tray with a small sugar bowl and a tiny pitcher of cream.
“Why don’t we eat out on the patio? The air is so nice and crisp. It will be nice.”
Jasmin smiled. “Sure. I wait all year for the chance to wear these big bulky sweaters, so why not?”
They settled on one of the comfortable teak sofas, with an overflowing tray of autumn goodness in front of them. The leaves on the trees laid out before them were just beginning to change, taking on the vibrant red and oranges that would soon have the canopy looking like it was awash in flames. They didn’t speak, each enjoying the silence of the other’s company in the way only close friends could.
Finally, Jasmin cleared her throat. “Okay, so real talk. It’s just me and you. How are you coping?”
Torie sat her cup down and stared into the distance, collecting her thoughts before she could answer. “Well, I’m trying not to get caught up in the drown-my-sorrows-in-a-bottle-of-wine trap each night if that’s what you mean.”
Jasmin smiled, her eyes filled with compassion.
“No, that isn’t exactly what I meant. If you need to drink yourself under the table to get through this, then that’s what you need to do. Just know that I’ll be here to pick you up and clean you off if I have to. But I didn’t mean what are your coping mechanisms…I meant how are you?”
“I know. It’s just hard to talk about. I feel like I’m mourning someone that I never really knew. I have to keep reminding myself that I didn’t have magic for over forty years of my life; I’ll be fine for another forty without it.” Saying the words out loud made them more real somehow. She felt hollow inside; but knew that acceptance was the first step in getting on with her life.
“Don’t be so fatalistic,” said Jasmin. “You’ve never seemed like the type to just give up. Look at everything you’ve been through; all that you’ve endured. You’re stronger than this, Torie.”
“I would like to think that is true. But I’m telling you, I don’t feel it anymore. When my magic first manifested itself, I knew there was something different going on, deep inside me.” She pressed her fist to her chest for emphasis. “But now, I don’t feel that anymore. Not even a tingle of it inside me.”
“Well, that’s what I’m here for. I want to work with you to see what we can do. I need to see if there is any spark that I can still feel.”
Torie looked at her expectantly. “Do you think your magic can bring mine back?”
Jasmin sipped her coffee. “I don’t know, but we can try. You were able to force it out; maybe another witch can bring it back.”
“Have you ever heard of this happening before?”
Jasmin looked away before answering. “No. I’ve never heard of a case of a witch losing her powers before. Hexes are primal magic; it belongs to the one who wields it for life. I even made some calls to other witches in the area. No one knew such a thing was even possible.”
“Other witches? You mean here in Singing Falls?”
“A few yes. And ones in neighboring towns. We aren’t the only ones, you know.”
Torie nodded. “You mean like your sister?”
Jasmin gave her a side-eyed glance. “Yes. Like her.”
Torie shifted her weight so she was fully facing her friend. “So why haven’t you spoken about her? I asked Fionna and she said she knew you had a sister, but that was all. That in all the time the two of you have known each other, you haven’t really spoken about her.”
Jasmin looked uncomfortable. “We aren’t here to talk about me. We’re here to try and get you your magic back.”
Normally, Torie was not the type to pry. Especially when it came to family matters. That was a giant can of worms she wasn’t fond of venturing into with people. But Jasmin was different. She had felt a kinship with her from the moment they met. They had literally saved one another’s lives on more than one occasion.
If you couldn’t pry into someone like that, then who could you? Besides, she sensed that her friend wanted to talk about it.
“Yes, you’re right,” said Torie, “we are trying to get my powers back. And if you have faith in someone to help do that, then I’d like to have faith in them as well. But that means I need to know a little more ab
out them.”
Jasmin took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I guess I can’t really argue with that. But yes, I do have faith my sister could help you. Like I said, she is a witch doctor, and a powerful one at that.”
Torie interrupted. “Alright, before you go any further, explain to me what exactly a witch doctor is?”
“Basically, she is a witch whose power is focused on the spirit world. That gives her a great insight into what ails people. Especially someone magical. She can not only see their auras, but she can delve into their very spirit and interact with it.”
“So you think she can help me?”
“I hope so.”
“Hope isn’t a strategy,” answered Torie.
“No, but it might be all we have right now, so hold onto it.”
Both women were silent for a moment, each sipping tea and eating forkfuls of pastry.
“This is amazing,” said Torie between mouthfuls. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
“Oh, I can’t cook. But I can bake like nobody’s business.” She winked at Torie and raised her cup of coffee in salutations.
“So. It sounds like you have a lot of pride in your sister and her skills,” said Torie.
“Yes, I guess I do.”
“So why haven’t you ever talked about her before? What happened between the two of you? And don’t tell me it’s nothing. I don’t have a sibling, but if I did, I’d like to think we would keep in contact. When was the last time you spoke with her?”
Jasmin narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t you tell me you and your mother went years without speaking?”
Torie felt herself blush. “Yes. And I also told you that I regretted every minute of that. There are some things that you can’t have a re-do for.”
Again, Jasmin sighed. “Well, it’s been a few decades since we talked.”
Torie snorted, nearly choking on her coffee. “Decades? Are you telling me it’s been over twenty years?”
Jasmin nodded, unable to meet her friend’s gaze.
“How do you know she’s even still alive?” Torie almost wished she could swallow the words back as soon as she voiced them.