Witches & Stitches

by Beverly Sanders

  “I believe we look even more suspicious now than before,” Nicco mused. “Innocent people are usually more afraid, at least from what I’ve seen on television.”

  “I don’t care. I’m gonna figure this out, then the real killer will be held accountable.”

  “So, what now?” he asked.

  “Now, we go home. In the morning, I’m gonna go back to Everly’s apartment and check it out. She usually spends the early part of her day out taking pictures, so the house will be empty. There might be something useful there.”

  Sunrise couldn’t come early enough . . .

  “Cedant et dona ingressum!” I held my hand over her door handle. It shook violently for a moment but didn’t open. It seemed like any wise witch, Everly had hexed her apartment, blocking it from magical entry. Luckily, though, I’d found a way around that when I was just a young kid, one that had come in handy more times than I could count against magical shields.

  “Facta est de chalybe!” I wrapped my hands around my leg, essentially giving it the power of pure steel. Taking a step back, I gave the door my best ninja kick, sending it flying off its hinges and through the air.

  She’d know I’d been here, of course, but in truth, she’d have known that anyway as soon as she walked through the door. Witches are good like that. I spent the next few minutes poking around, not finding much of anything. But there had to be something here. I could feel it. I closed my eyes, letting the magic guide me through the house until finally coming to a stop at what seemed like a very strange place.

  “It’s in the refrigerator . . .” I muttered, opening the door. Aside from some leftover Chinese food and a few sodas, there wasn’t much to speak of in Everly’s fridge. So once again, I concentrated as hard as I could, letting the world speak to me in its softest and most truthful voice. My eyes popped open and I reached for the drawer.

  I pulled it out. A single carrot. It honestly didn’t look like much, but I could feel history and magic spilling out from it in waves as it made contact with my skin. I brought it to my lips, taking a large bite and chewing it as fast as I could. The crunchy, fibrous vegetable turned to metal in my mouth, growing larger with each second and nearly choking me until I spat it out.

  There on the floor in front of me lay something I was only partially familiar with. I recognized the metal as Carmatium, the natural metal of Enchanted Lake, my home. What I was less familiar with, however, was the image engraved on the item. It was about five inches wide and five inches tall, about the thickness of two quarters. One side showed the sun and moon, but the other side was far more intricate.

  Large swooping lines intersected with one another, creating an image like I’d never seen. It was old, to say the least, and in the middle, there seemed to be something else, another element I couldn’t see no matter how hard I squinted. I’d seen relics like this one before and I knew where I needed to go.

  I cast my best spell to fix the door even though I knew it wouldn’t help things much in keeping my presence here a secret. Still, there’s just something so crappy about walking up to your home to find your door blown off the hinges. And even if Everly was trying her best to ruin me, I still didn’t wanna be that girl.

  “There,” I said, watching the damage I’d caused reverse itself.

  15

  A little while after standing on the edge of Lake Oconee, waiting on just the right moment to carry myself home, I found myself in a place I hadn’t seen in quite some time. The Enchanted Lake Legacy Library was a massive place, bigger than nearly anything I’d ever seen in the mortal realm. It sat perched at the base of a waterfall near the edge of our town. High towers of glass and crystal rose from the water, always surrounded by fine mists and interlocking rainbow reflections.

  I’d always loved gazing at it from afar. Such detail went into its design, such careful magic, and meticulous casting made up its walls. And not only was it beautiful, but it was strong, made from the same metal I’d found in Everly’s apartment and protected with more magic than any place I knew of. I paused for a moment just outside its doors, taking in the splendor and history, the majesty and grandeur. It’s funny how much you can miss a place even when you’re standing at its doors.

  “Hello,” I said, stepping inside.

  “Name?” The witch behind the counter asked.

  The library was run by a series of witches who’d taken an oath to protect it long ago. As far as I knew, they never left the place, not even to join in on the town celebrations. To them, nothing was as important as history, and nothing demanded more respect than the walls of their home. It was at once noble and a little frightening.

  “Ginni Black,” I replied.

  “And which volumes will you be seeking?” she asked flatly, her eyes focused on the desk in front of her.

  “I . . . don’t know.” I stepped closer, placing the talisman on her desk . “I want to know more about this.”

  She stopped writing, slowly placing her pen to the side before picking up the piece. She held it in the air, allowing it to shimmer in the light as she studied it. Then, with the strangest look in her eyes, she turned back to me.

  “You are either very brave or very stupid.”

  “I’m sorry?” I replied.

  The witch stood to her feet, her eyes still focused on mine. Then, with a world of magical force behind her, she slammed her hands against the desk. I’d never felt so much power in all of my life. It burned through me, tearing at my body, pulling me apart from the inside, piece by piece. I screamed, begging for help as she pounded her hands over and over and over again. Each time, the pain grew more terrifying until finally, my world went black.

  I doubt all the Advil in world would have helped this headache . . .

  I woke to find myself tied to a chair, elemental restraints binding my powers. I couldn’t cast, I couldn’t hex, and I couldn’t call out. What had just happened? Was she trying to kill me? The librarian, really? Was I guilty of a crime, and what did she mean when she said I was very brave or very dumb?

  “You’d have to be one of the two,” she said as if reading my mind. Her long green gown flowed to the floor behind her, wafting in the breeze, though I couldn’t feel any airflow. “No witch in their right mind would come back here with this after stealing it.”

  “Stealing it?” I asked.

  “The Talisman of Ricci.” She placed a small wooden box on the shelf in front of me. Its lid was open, and in it rested the small object I’d taken from Everly’s fridge. “Do you have any idea what this object is capable of?”

  “No,” I said. “I really don’t. I found it—”

  She chuckled loudly, a wide smile stretching across her face. It was obvious she didn’t believe me, though I couldn’t blame her. The library coven was notoriously untrusting, suspicious of everyone and everything, so much so that many witches refused to set foot in this place. Maybe it was my time away, too long spent in the mortal realm or something, but I’d somehow managed to forget all of that. Well, that and I hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “I’m telling you the truth,” I insisted. “Why would I bring it back here if I was the one who stole it?”

  “You do pose an interesting question,” she said. “Unless, of course, you understand the true magic of the relic.”

  “True magic?”

  “This is a powerful magic, powerful in many different ways. Forged in the metal is the power of Greylock. But . . . too long away from its home, the relic will turn on the person keeping it, ultimately destroying them from the inside out. That power that you felt a little while ago, that was the relic. Now . . . imagine that for the rest of your life until one day, you simply can’t take it anymore.” She closed the box.

  “Greylock. As in demons?”

  “As in the original Greylock magic. You have no business with this. Ever. Unless, of course, you’d like to be driven crazy and destroyed from the inside out.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “That sounds awful. And I
really don’t want to ever experience it again. But honestly, I didn’t take it.”

  “Then show me.” She arched her brow.

  I knew what she was asking me to do and I really didn’t want to. I also knew it was probably the only thing that was going to help me. She needed to see my memories. She needed me to call on them, to bring them to life right before her eyes to prove my story. I’d never done it, but I’d seen it happen. I’d seen the pain wash over people’s faces as a part of them became separated, torn from them like a hem coming unstitched.

  And I’d seen how lost they were once it happened. Memories are a big part of who we are. They make up our past and help build our future. But take those away, even for a moment, and the person you are, the person you’ve always known . . . they’re gone. Suddenly, you’re not you. You’re someone else, with no memories and lost in the world. I’d seen the toll it took on people and I wanted no part of it.

  “Fine,” she said. “Then spend your days here, in this room. Proclaim your innocence from now until eternity. No one will come. No one will help. It is the divine law of the library, of history, that any witch guilty of a crime remain here. No exceptions.”

  I had no choice. I had to give in. I would have to let the biggest, most sacred part of myself be ripped away and put on display. I would be lost in the world for as long as it took for her to believe me.

  “Okay,” I muttered. “Just get it over with.”

  She stepped closer, her hands cupping the sides of my face as she stared into my eyes. I could feel it, the raw power pulsating from her body, emanating from her fingertips like a force more powerful than any I’d experienced. I guess when you have nothing to do but guard magic, you get really good at it, right? Then it happened. Pain unlike any I knew existed washed over me. I could feel a part of myself being ripped away until finally, I was no more. My eyes closed and my body went limp.

  I woke to find myself standing at the far edge of a field. It was a beautiful day with the soft rustling of leaves in the distance and the sound of birds chirping overhead. I looked up to see a man I recognized walking toward me. He was handsome, though I couldn’t place him in my memories. His broad shoulders and large muscular arms wrapped around me, pulling me tightly into him.

  I felt something almost magical coming from him, an energy, protective and animalistic. He hugged me tightly, placing his lips softly against my forehead, then he spun me around and pointed to a large house at the end of a path.

  “There it is,” he whispered in my ear. “Our home . . .”

  I felt my heart melt into him. I was alive with love and hope. I was happy. We fixed up the house, decorating it to our liking. It came together easily, as though our love were enchanting the walls and grounds, filling them with magic as though it were real.

  Each new sunrise brought a new love as I woke to find him lying by my side, the soft sunlight dancing across his face, casting small shadows in his sweet dimples. We worked the land, bringing it to life with vegetation of every kind, large and small. We were in love and it was that love that kept us growing, ultimately leading to the sweet cries of babies.

  Hannah and Molly were born in the dark of night, just before the sun rose high in the sky. They grew quickly, like weeds in the fields. Molly, strong and brave like her father, knew no fear. She sought adventure in everything and looked upon each new day as another chapter in her story. Hannah, reserved and studied like me, spent her days sketching and tending to her garden. They were different in every way, the perfect Yin and Yang of our world.

  Then, as it so often does, time continued on. They grew quickly, much quicker than I wanted, eventually finding their own places in the world. I found myself once again with only my husband, the man I’d loved for so many years, the man who’d helped me live a life that some could only dream of.

  Then he left me, the cold winter settling his lungs, his breath heavy and slow until finally, I found myself alone in the house that had once seemed so alive with love and life. I wondered how long I would stay, how long until the end came calling for me too.

  I watched as the house, the gardens, and the entire world around them turned to flames, deep and dark, with billowing towers of smoke and ash. I was in flames, tortured and screaming for my life, but it was no use. There was no one to help me, no one to douse the fires. I spent years in that hell, breathing in soot and burning in flames, until finally, after a thousand lifetimes, I woke.

  “What happened?” I asked, my body shaking and shivering as sweat poured from my pores.

  “I believe you,” she said. “I watched your memories play out. You didn’t take the relic, but you did know where to find it. Tell me how.”

  “What?” I asked, my ears still ringing, my skin still burning. “How long was I gone?”

  “A few minutes,” she replied. “Though I know it may have felt a little longer.”

  “It was a lifetime,” I answered. “More than one.”

  “How did you know where to find the talisman?” she repeated.

  16

  It took quite a lot of convincing and a few more spells, but finally, the librarian believed me. She’d seen I had nothing to do with the talisman being stolen, only that I’d managed to find it by accident. The story of how the talisman came to be stuck inside a carrot wasn’t what interested me though. I was far more intrigued by the sheer power the thing held, and apparently, so were a lot of other people.

  “No one’s ever dared to steal anything from this library,” the witch said. “And until you cam walking in with it, I wasn’t even aware it had been stolen. That’s powerful magic.”

  “Any ideas?” I asked.

  “These walls also have memories. Think of it as a security measure. Normally, I wouldn’t share such information with anyone outside my own coven. But since you’re already involved and since it was discovered in the mortal realm, you might be of some use.” She waved her hand. “Follow me.”

  I stood to my feet, my legs still burning from the magic I’d endured only a few minutes ago. I winced, grabbing my knee. I had no choice but to fight through the pain. Not only did I want to see where she was taking me, but I also doubted she’d have reacted very well to my complaints. That seemed like the kind of thing she, or any member of her coven, wouldn’t have too much time for, really.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as she opened a small door leading into a long corridor.

  “To meet with the rest of my coven. In order to access the memories of the library, I’ll need a lot of power.”

  Large wrought iron lanterns lined the dark stone hallway. Well, hallway might not be the right word for a floating stone pathway. Clouds, thick, dark, and seemingly full of silent lightning strikes, stretched out overhead as far as I could see. A cold chill ran through the air, shaking the floating stones beneath my feet. The pathway was long and winding, eventually coming to a large door.

  “I’m Abben, by the way.” She turned back to me. “Of the Haerewayh Coven.” She outstretched her hands, releasing a simple incantation, one I’d never seen. The doors opened and we were transported into a room. One that looked pretty familiar, actually.

  “Is this place modeled after—”

  “I Dream Of Jeanie?” Another witch asked. “Yes. This entire place is inspired by the interior of her bottle. Most people don’t know that. Though, it’s not like we get many guests either.”

  Large purple velvet couches filled every corner of the room, accompanied by gold ottomans and more genie lamps than I could count. Bright gold and silver paint covered the walls, patterned with shimmering jewels of every color. It was gaudy and completely over the top. It was perfect.

  “So . . .” Another witch walked up to me. “You found our stolen talisman, huh?” She placed her hand on my shoulder and leaned forward. “Good work, kid!”

  She was younger than I expected, with a large pink hat and silver pants. Her attitude and demeanor were a million miles away from Abben’s, or at least the side of Ab
ben I’d met in library. The side of her I was seeing now was . . . different.

  “Whew!” She unbuttoned her blazer and tossed it on the floor. “Finally! Its about time the girls got to breathe.” She clutched her chest. “Sorry about the whole nearly killing you thing. It’s just . . . well, the Council expects us to present ourselves in a certain way. Besides, being a super-B makes things a little easier when you run a place like this.”

  “Oh,” I said, obviously surprised by her demeanor.

  “Here,” the other witch said. “Have a drink, babe. My name is Halloway.” She handed me a bubbling glass of something pink. “And that’s Kianna over there. She’s already had a few glasses of the pink stuff so I’d steer clear of talking about anything that gets her worked up.”

  “What gets her worked up?” I asked.

  “Hard to say. Yesterday, it was the cancellation of the Dallas remake. She’s big into mortal realm television . . .”

  “Noted.” I took a sip . . . well, it was a sip in the beginning. Once I tasted the gloriousness of its flavors, though, I threw the thing back in a single gulp. “Ohh,” I said. “What is this?”

  “Don’t know!” Halloway said. “I kinda concocted it by accident. But it tastes so good I had to create a replicating spell right away!”

  “What were you trying to make?” I asked.

  “A solution to clean demon poop!” She poured another glass. “Tasty, right?”

  “Very,” I said, glaring at the glass. Demon poop, really? I couldn’t help thinking. But hey, tasty is tasty, right?

  “So.” Abben rubbed her hands together. “Let’s get this party started. Time to see what B stole our old as A relic!”

  The three witches stood in a circle, one that if I hadn’t known what was going on, I’d have assumed were three boho-chic friends about to launch into a seventies disco dance number. Each one looked at the ground, chanting something in a language I was only vaguely familiar with. One that was older than the written word, one spoken by only the most powerful of covens.