by Catie Rhodes
Hannah spoke in a low, ashamed voice. “Tim knew exactly what he was looking for. The leather bag with the gold disk in it.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “By that time, Cecil was in distress. I was more focused on him than I was stopping Tim.” She gave me a guilty shrug.
I shook off her apology. It was done now. Oscar had the runes and the wheel. He also had Tim as his henchman. He could create havoc beyond what I wanted to think about. And here I was farting around with Miss Ugly, who’d promised to come back tomorrow night and take me with her no matter what.
Hannah seemed to read my mind. “Did you find the skull lamp?”
I nodded and continued sifting through my scattered belongings. I’d have to leave them to someone. Zora was the most logical choice, though she was too young right now. Had I accepted my death so easily? I saw no way around it.
Hannah squatted next to me and began gathering things. “At least that’s one good thing.”
I turned to give her an incredulous stare. Wait. She doesn’t know. I didn’t want to tell Hannah my fate, but she had to know. “Depends on what you think good is.” I told her about giving the skull lantern back to Miss Ugly and what she gave me as a kindness.
Hannah slumped. “Cheating old bitch.”
Tanner continued brushing sand off items and putting them in piles for me to examine. “I can’t quit wondering what Oscar would want with the wheel. I think it’s the answer to some of our problems.”
“Maybe he thinks he can crawl through it. I’ve seen boogers do that before.” I smiled at Tanner as I used his word for chthonic beings.
He smiled back but shook his head. “Oscar’ll come through the runes. You said so yourself.” He put the last of the stuff back in the cedar chest and wiped his hands on his jeans. “Think about it. Miss Ugly keeps mentioning your fate. That wheel governs fate.”
I cocked my head at him, still not getting it.
“That wheel might be able to change your fate, divorce it from Miss Ugly’s.” He squatted next to me, eyes boring into mine.
I focused my mind on the game. “So we need to find Tim and get that wheel back now.”
“I think I’ve got an idea how to do it,” Tanner said.
Tanner said he needed some things from his truck and left before Hannah or I could ask what. She minded her own business for about ten seconds.
“What happened between the two of you?” She twirled a strand of red hair around one finger and fluttered her eyelashes.
“Why don’t you tell me about the tarot spread you were doing when we came roaring in? Thinking of adding tarot readings to your face painting?” I sat on top of my séance table, a cigarette between my first and second fingers.
It distracted Hannah. “Maybe. I’ve been studying. Before y’all got here, I had a three-card spread, just past, present, and future. The reading was for you.”
“What’d you draw?” If I kept her talking about tarot, she wouldn’t ask about Tanner.
“Three of swords, the lovers, and ten of cups.” Her lips quirked into a smile, and her eyes sparkled. “The three of swords is your broken heart. The lovers represents a special bond and a deep connection between two people. The ten of cups is a happy family who has a loving home. Now let’s talk about you and Tanner. The two of you can barely look at each other, and when you do, you blush like teenagers.” She took out her long, skinny femme cigarettes and lit one.
I didn’t know how to answer that. I’d been playing it as cool as possible with Tanner. No reason not to. Nothing needed to happen. He was still clinging to his family, and they were haunting him in an attempt to get him to break through his grief. He wasn’t ready.
I wouldn’t ruin what might be a good, mutually beneficial friendship by playing hot pants. I hoped I’d learned that lesson with Wade Hill.
Hannah snorted at my silence. “Oh, don’t be a prude. There’s something about him. If he wasn’t so obviously interested in you, I’d take a run at him.” She thought about that, frowning. “Maybe.”
Hannah hadn’t dated anybody since her runaround with King Tolliver. I couldn’t say I blamed her. King Tolliver was enough to put any woman off men forever. But men still noticed her, especially Leon Blackfox. She noticed him too. But I still couldn’t tease her about him. Not while she still radiated so much vulnerability.
“Spill it.” Hannah came close and nudged me.
“We kissed,” I said in the same tone I’d have accused Tanner of being a closet axe murderer.
“No good?” She dropped her jaw in surprise. “No way. The way he moves. The way he stares at you like a big cat waiting to pounce.”
“Oh, it was good.” I told her about his wife’s and children’s ghosts swirling around him, about his guilt over their deaths. I finished with, “He’s not ready to let them go.”
Hannah smoked, staring at the dirt floor. “The old me would have argued with you until the end of time. But look how I handled my romantic affairs.” She made a sick face. “Don’t give up on him completely. He looks very worth it. If you know what I mean.” She lowered her voice and raised her eyebrows on the last sentence.
I agreed but said nothing. In the face of death, whether or not I had a romance with Tanner didn’t seem to matter so much. It was a nice little mental vacation from reality, nothing more. I had bigger problems. “If you don’t mind changing the subject…”
Hannah shook her head. “Not at all.”
“Even if we get the wheel of life back, I have no idea how to use it to get rid of Miss Ugly.” Spending my last day alive fighting to get it back might not be the best use of my time.
“But you still have to get the runes back and do something about your ex.” Hannah turned down one corner of her mouth. “Otherwise, you’re going to be dead, and we’re going to be dealing with Oscar.”
She had a good point. To protect my family and friends, I’d fight to get the wheel back, but I'd probably have to kill Tim to accomplish my means. I felt no guilt at planning my ex-husband’s murder. The world would be a better place without him.
Tanner picked that moment to come back into the tent holding what looked like a stack of maps. “I’ll need the table.”
Hannah and I scattered. I got out my cleansing supplies, but Tanner shook his head.
“We don’t need much ceremony for this.” He dropped the maps on the table, unbuckled his belt, and slid the nine irons amulet off. He flipped past the charms until he got to the shovel head. “This one is for helping to find stolen items. Last time I used it was to find a car stolen from me back in California.”
“Find it?” Hannah peered at the shovel.
“Yep. But it was in gang-banger country. I was too afraid to steal it back.” Tanner dropped the amulet on the table and spread out the Texas map. “All right.” He turned to face me, staring intently into my eyes. My stomach jumped. He held out the nine irons amulet. “From what I’ve seen, you’re a really powerful witch, so I’m hoping this’ll work.”
I nodded and took the amulet.
Tanner said, “Hold the shovel in your hand. Envision the items, think of your claim to them, and why you need them. Think it as hard as you can. Then back up three steps from the table and toss the nine irons amulet onto the table.”
I gripped the amulet in my left hand.
Tanner shook his head and reached for my hand. “Use your right hand since these items belong to you and Tim stole them.”
“The runes were stolen.” I let the amulet dangle from my fingers. “My great-great-grandmother stole them from the Coachman the day she killed him.”
“But the wheel…” Tanner did that raised eyebrow thing again. I smiled, and he smiled back. The air around him grew cold as the ghosts of his wife and daughters circled him protectively. Now that they’d left the living realm, their perceptions had changed. They had no perspective on Tanner’s attachment to them, and they’d hurt me if they thought it helped Tanner. I had to tread carefully.
“The sam
e great-grandmother gave me the wheel to use.” I felt the stupid grin still on my face and tried to get rid of it.
“Use your right hand and think about the wheel. It’s yours.” Tanner took the nine irons amulet from my left hand, touching me way more than necessary, picked out the shovel, and placed it in my right hand. He even closed my fingers around it.
I held my hand at waist level and let my focus soften. I reached inward, feeling for my magic, hoping we hadn’t exhausted it by sticking that cross to monsters’ faces all evening.
For a second, it seemed we had. But then I felt the fire that had forged the amulet. My black opal flashed power in response. The blacksmith who had made this amulet had power of his own. He had infused elemental magic into the metal, given it his principles of protection and justice.
The mantle swirled inside me, somewhat rested and ready for action. I released it. The mantle, which seemed expert at calling fire magic, rolled itself into the fire magic of the amulet. A hot wind picked up in my tent, and all my candles lit at once.
Tanner spun in a fast circle, as though looking for intruders. I didn’t bother to tell him it was okay. Instead I kept my focus inward and called up my memories of the wheel. I thought about the soft, velvety feel of the metal, as though many hands had touched it, rubbing it smoother than any polishing ever could. The way the metal always felt skin temperature like something living came to me. I imagined running my fingers over it. Then I called to memory what the wheel could do.
The amulet twitched in the palm of my hand. A blast of magic heated my bones. It was ready. I backed up three steps and tossed it onto the table. The amulet landed in the upper right corner of the map, more miles away than my jerk of an ex-husband had had time to run tonight.
The amulet jittered against the table. It slid backward, to the center part of the state, and then down, down, down. The shovel came to life and moved just a tad. Then the amulet was still.
Tanner hurried forward. “It’s pointing right at Austin.” He picked up the amulet and unfolded the Austin city map on the table.
“I can’t believe you have paper maps.” Hannah touched her finger to it. “I just use my phone.”
“I haven’t had a phone that would do that in many months,” Tanner mumbled. “It was the first thing to go after I decided to keep my oldest daughter on life support and insurance told me how little they’d pay.”
Hannah blanched and stuttered out an apology. Tanner ignored it.
“I’ll get you a new phone that does that.” I took the nine irons amulet out of his hand, ready to get back to business.
“You’re not taking me to raise.” Tanner leveled his intense gaze on me. Hannah’s careless words had brought back the hurt.
“But I’ll get you a phone anyway in case I need you to have those features.” I held up the amulet to stop his argument. “Do I go through the whole ritual again?”
Tanner nodded, his pretty lips set in a sad line.
I relaxed my muscles and let the magic flow. In this state, the ghosts circling Tanner’s head, emanating worry for their husband and father, were more clear than ever. I let my gaze slide off them. Another time. When he was ready. After I let go of the distraction, the mantle and the amulet rolled their magic together. I called up the memory of the wheel, this time in even more detail, even thinking about how I’d use it to save my own life.
The nine irons amulet must have liked that. It heated up instead of twitching. I took the three steps backward and tossed it onto the table.
The amulet went in circles around the map, reminding me of those old videos of satellite radar. It slid toward the middle of town. The shovel twisted a bit and stopped.
Tanner went forward and used a pen off my table to circle a small area around the tip of the shovel. He turned to me, eyes still dull from whatever the phone argument had reminded him of. “Want me to go with you?”
He was upset, and I hated to make him help me any more than he already had. Each time he helped me risked his life. His luck might run out. “No. Tell me what to do to narrow down the address, and I’ll go alone.” I didn’t give him a chance to answer and turned to Hannah. “Get to the hospital and tell Cecil that I’m coming to see him as soon as I get back to town. I’m going to go back to my camper, sleep, and…”
“To hell with that. I’m going.” She grabbed her purse from somewhere on the floor and hiked it up on her shoulder.
Tanner closed his eyes and shook his head. “You stay. I’ll go.”
“We’ll all go.” Hannah’s voice got all snippy. I knew this tone of voice well and had quit arguing with it a long time ago. Dressing up a pig and trying to teach it to sing was a better use of my time.
I turned away and began gathering what I could salvage of my witching supplies, ears pricked up for whatever was going to happen next between Tanner and Hannah.
“You don’t need to go.” Tanner said the words like Hannah was a three-year-old who’d been asking the same question for forty-five minutes.
“But I’m going to go. This is my best friend, and I…” She cut off her words. “This is about the phone thing, isn’t it?”
I shoved a mass of junk into my cedar box to sort through and turned around. This ought to be good.
Tanner put both hands on his hips, dropped his head, and let out a sigh.
“I’m sorry, all right?” Hannah, about the same height as Tanner, got right in his face. The muscles in his jaw worked. Hannah softened her voice. “I said the wrong thing because I don’t know you well. I’m sorry for any hurt it caused you. That was not my intent at all.” She took another breath to spill out more words.
I interrupted the whole fiasco. “Hannah. Let him be.”
She spun, red-faced, to glare at me. Hannah meant well, but she had a whole dictionary’s worth of self-help expressions. Sometimes they made people, meaning me, want to whip her ass.
“You can go,” I said. “Tanner knows you didn’t mean anything. Ignore him until he gets over it.”
For some reason, I felt the same way I felt when I babysat my little cousins.
Tanner stomped out of the tent with, “I’ll meet you back at camp.”
I spoke to Hannah. “Help me get all my magic stuff together. Seems like closing the gate after the horses done got out, but I can’t quite bring myself to leave it here.”
14
After only a couple hours’ sleep, we got up, drank coffee, and sped toward Austin, the sky already graying with the coming dawn. The short drive passed quietly.
Tanner, angry that I insisted on driving my own damn truck, slammed into the backseat, crossed his arms over his chest, and sat there looking like sex on a cracker. Hannah shrugged at him and got into the front seat. She wouldn’t apologize again, so he’d better not be expecting that.
As we got into Austin, dawn faded into a deep blue sky scattered with puffs of cloud. The morning rush hour had already started. I wished we’d driven in last night and slept in the truck until dawn. The traffic flowed in a start and stop pattern. We’d get caught at a red light, wait, and then race to the next red light and stop.
“Isn’t there a faster way?” I asked Hannah. She’d spent some time in Austin.
She snorted. “ If you think this is bad, wait until we get downtown.”
By the time we got downtown, I regretted not letting Tanner drive and glanced in the rearview mirror only to find him watching me. His eyes blazed with some unreadable emotion, and he glanced down at his lap. “We’ll have to walk and use the amulet to find the exact address.”
Hannah tapped my arm. “Park in the next pay-to-park lot or parking garage. We won’t find curbside parking.”
I did as she said, again berating myself for not coming in the middle of the night. But the sleep had done me a world of good. My magic tingled just under my skin, showing me an underworld of horror lurking right next to us, and ready to do more.
We parked and locked up. I slung my witch pack onto my back. Tanner cam
e around and pulled the backpack into place. I tipped my chin to thank him but said nothing.
“You really think you’ll need any of that?” He tried to smile, maybe to show he was past his dark cloud.
“I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.” With that, we set off walking, Hannah reading the map on her phone.
We found the street the nine irons shovel showed us on the Austin map. Tanner took the amulet off his belt and handed it to me. “You’ll have to picture the item again. You should feel the pull of the shovel in your body. Like a magnet.”
I did as he said, closing my eyes to concentrate, too emotionally whipped to give a shit who thought me a weirdo. The routine of picturing the wheel of life, of imagining the soft feel of its worn metal, came easier this time.
The shovel jumped in my hand. I closed my fingers over it. A feeling, not electric like my usual magic but more of an ache, crept up my arm. As Tanner had promised, it pulled me down the street.
We walked in silence, all of us smoking. It drew glances. We were probably breaking all kinds of no-smoking laws. None of us stubbed out our cancer teasers. The shovel kept pulling me, and I kept walking, holding on to my concentration as best as I could amidst the noise and distractions. The pull stopped in front of a fancy-looking restaurant.
This couldn’t be right. I walked a few more feet, but the shovel pulled me right back where I started.
“This is it, but I can’t imagine Tim McSwain anywhere within a mile of this place. Unless he was here to burgle or rob it.” Revulsion at who I’d once been married to crawled over me.
Hannah marched to the door, cupped her hands around her face, and peered inside. “Nobody. Not even a cleaning crew.”
I slumped. All the way to a big, loud city to run up against a brick wall. I glanced back at the building. Or a stucco and glass wall in this case. What next? I lowered my head to stare at my black cowboy boots.