by Lauren Quick
The tables and workstations were covered with jars of ingredients, copper bowls, and cauldrons. But what really caught her attention were the rows of identical small figurines. It hit Honora. Witches of a Feather wasn’t a flying club based on friendship; it was all about business and making money. Now she was beginning to understand what motivated them.
“Is this shop yours?” Honora asked, speaking about Diabolical.
Ophelia smiled. “No, dear. Not the shop. But I do a lot of business with them. They rent me the space down here in the basement. It’s a perfect location for our discreet business. All the magical items upstairs disrupt any detection spells that might alert law enforcement to the magic we do down here.”
“What exactly do you do?” Brimstone filled Honora’s nose and her eyes had begun to sting from the residue, so she really didn’t need to ask. Clearly the space was used for black magic spells, but she wanted to hear her say it.
Ophelia held out her palm, revealing three tiny charms, the kind worn on a necklace or a bracelet similar to the golden wings they all wore around their necks. Except these charms were different—one was the claw of a bird, one was a fang from a snake, and one was a tiny black potion bottle.
“You create magical charms to sell.” Interesting.
“She doesn’t just create them. She has her own line,” Beatrice said, flipping her cascade of blonde hair off her shoulder. “They’re special. They’re exclusive to Diabolical. Ophelia is building a brand.”
“Brand of what?” Honora asked, thinking Vicious Witch was probably available.
Ophelia motioned to the charms. “Pick one.”
Honora selected the bird claw and held it in her hand. She couldn’t imagine anyone wearing it on a necklace or bracelet, but to each her own. The magic felt intense on her palm, like she was holding a nail that was pressing into her skin. “What’s it do?” she asked, rolling the charm around to help with the discomfort.
Ophelia shifted. “It’s a paranoia charm. It causes a witch or wizard to practically go mad with suspicion and distrust until the emotions are crawling over them like ants.” Her grin exposed blindingly white teeth. “It’s one of our new offerings sold exclusively here.”
Exclusive to Diabolical meant one thing and Honora knew it. “You create and sell your own line of dark charms,” she said. Finally the truth was out. Witches of a Feather dealt in black magic for profit. That was what everyone was warning her about. Honora wondered if Sasha from Soar knew about that.
“Dark charms are all the rage,” Rachel said. “The fang causes venomous jealousy. And the potion bottle is an envy charm. Aren’t they great?” She rested her hand on her cocked hip.
“Who would wear one?” Honora asked, especially knowing what they do. She set the claw on the coffee table.
Beatrice rolled her eyes. “You buy the charm for someone you don’t like and give it as a gift or you can slip it into a witch’s purse or a wizard’s pocket. It’s an easy concept,” she said as if speaking to a child.
“Sounds like any witch with an ax to grind would be lining up to buy them.” Honora tried to disguise her disgust. “I’m sure you’re making a killing. The shop is overflowing with customers. What’s the plan for tonight? Am I to source more ingredients?” She hoped. All she wanted was to get out of there and breathe fresh air again.
“No, dear, tonight is your final initiation into the group,” Ophelia said.
Rachel stepped closer. “We’re going to create a new charm. It’s called Mayhem, after you. Isn’t that clever?”
Clever? Try evil and world shattering. Mayhem wasn’t a joke and it wasn’t a clever little game. She tried to remain calm, but the claustrophobic basement weighed on her. Honora wanted no part in this. It was bad enough they were making and selling black magic charms meant to hurt witches and wizards, but now they were dragging her into it. “I can’t wait to see how you operate. I’m sure it will be fascinating.”
“Oh, we aren’t the ones doing the spell. You are,” Ophelia said.
“Are you kidding me?” Honora asked, shifting on the sofa. They wanted her to perform black magic, now, tonight in this hellish basement. She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. Her skin felt prickly. They were all staring at her, gauging her reaction no doubt, and she couldn’t blow her cover now.
“It’s time for you to commit to the group entirely. You’ll cast the spell or your membership will be terminated,” Ophelia said.
The dark-haired Nix sister stepped forward and placed a large black potion bottle on the coffee table in front of them.
“What’s that? Another charm?” Honora asked. From the swirling black liquid and fetid odor, it was clear the bottle held something bad.
Ophelia smiled. “It’s a potion I made especially for initiations. It completely erases a witch’s memory, permanently. You will join us or you can drink the potion. That’s what I meant when I said terminate. We won’t hurt you. That’s too barbaric. No. I like a clean cut, a nice memory wipe. You’ll forget everything and everyone you’ve ever met. You won’t even remember you’re a Mayhem.”
Honora tensed, fear flooding through her. Her new club had given her no choice. She was going to do black magic or she was going to lose everything she ever cared about in one gulp.
14
Honora glared at the group. Fiery anger raced through her veins. The only thing she hated more than black magic was being threatened. Ophelia was backing the wrong witch into a corner. “Is this how you treat all your new members?” Honora asked.
“Only the ones I’m not sure about,” Ophelia said. “I like you, Honora, and I want to believe that your intentions to join the club are honorable and that you want to be a part of something mutually beneficial.”
“Then again, you sought us out,” Rex said. “We need a little insurance to know you’re on the up and up and won’t turn us into the cops.”
Ophelia crossed her legs. “This potion is an insurance policy. Nothing more. If you’re honest with us, then we’ll be supportive of you. It’s that simple.”
Anger pulsed inside her, pushing aside her fear. “I don’t like being blindsided. And I’m tired of your tests.”
“Do the spell and keep your mouth shut and we’re good,” Beatrice said. “We want a mayhem curse. And you’re the perfect witch for the job.”
Honora knew one thing about conjuring up mayhem and it didn’t work on command. The thought of them toying with such terrible magic sickened her. How could they create and sell dark charms? They had no idea what they were doing. They were casting black magic and selling it for profit, dealing in evil outcomes. The charms they created hurt witches. Or maybe they did know what they were doing. Flyers could be cruel, too. There was only one way to handle this. Honora smiled, her shoulders jerked, and she threw her head back and laughed long and hard. She gasped for air. “You all are so clever and so funny. I almost believed you.” She giggled. “I really like you, Ophelia. You’re so much fun. You really had me going about creating a curse here in the basement.”
“This isn’t a laughing matter,” Rex said, agitation radiating off him. “We aren’t joking. You will perform the curse as your final initiation into the club. Or else we make you drink the potion.”
Rachel grabbed her brother’s arm to calm him and addressed Honora. “Once you complete the spell, you can reap the rewards,” she said as if to appease her. “We all share in the risk and all share in the profits. It’s worth it. I promise.”
“I’d say some of your members have risked a lot more than others,” Honora said. “But I’m not worried about the risk, darlings. I was tickled that you thought we could do a mayhem curse here.”
Honora wasn’t going to get trapped into performing black magic, not tonight or ever, but she needed a plausible way out of that basement, while hopefully
keeping her cover in tact. She cleared her throat. “As you all know, a dark charm is a mild curse, not as bad as an actual curse, mind you, but very nasty. Amateurs should never attempt the curse as vile as mayhem in an enclosed space. I can’t possibly work in these conditions.” She wrinkled her nose and motioned to the dank basement.
Ophelia arched her brow. “And what conditions can you work under?”
“Well, I’d need to be outside for one. You do realize the curse must be cast by moonlight. This dark basement won’t do at all.” She shook her head, disapprovingly. Honora had no idea if the spell needed to be cast in the moonlight, but she was also betting that they didn’t either. She had to convince them she knew more about casting a mayhem curse than they did.
“She’s wasting our time,” Magnus said. He paced the room like a tiger. “She can cast another spell to create a dark charm. Screw this mayhem curse. I want her hands dirty and I want them dirty now.”
“You’re so impatient. But I do see your point. No more waiting. We must know for certain. This happens tonight,” Ophelia said. “The group is getting a little antsy and frankly so am I.”
“I’m going to need a reference.” Honora shifted, coming up with another stall. “I don’t have the charm memorized.”
“We have a black grimoire. It will have the spell you need.” Ophelia pointed to the shelf and Beatrice dutifully raced over and pulled out the book with a cracked black cover. There was a skull emblem embossed on the front of the gruesome book. Well, that tactic didn’t work.
Honora tried again. “Dark charms should never be rushed. I should review the spell tonight and perform it tomorrow.” That was reasonable.
“We can’t wait. We’re being followed,” Rachel blurted out. Her gazed darted around the room. Ophelia rolled her eyes at the witch’s revelation.
Honora’s heart raced. Corder was on to them. He probably had officers watching this very shop right now. Unfortunately for her, he’d made them nervous.
“Be quiet, Rachel,” Rex hushed his sister.
“It’s the truth,” Rachel continued. “Someone was following me the other day and someone was following the sisters also. That’s not a coincidence. What if the cops are onto us?”
The Nix sisters nodded in agreement.
“We need to make sure we don’t have a rat in our house,” Magnus said. “And she’s the most likely suspect.”
Honora had to play this just right. “Trust is important in a group. But I live by the flyers’ code and I support the club. I understand your fear and suspicion. I’ll cast the spell, no problem, but not here. It won’t work. We can do it in the park, by the bird sanctuary where you had me go for my first clue.” Honora fed them the plan, hoping they’d be less suspicious if they thought they were in control of the decision-making.
“Sounds reasonable,” Ophelia said. “Any objections?”
The group remained silent.
“Good. That’s settled. I should be going. I have a lot to prepare for.” Honora stood, itching to make a quick escape.
But Ophelia stopped her. “Not so fast, Honora. Rex and Rachel, I want you to stay here and watch the shop, make sure no one is poking around. The others will come with us.”
“I need to get ready at my place,” Honora said. “Mental preparation. Plus, I didn’t bring my wand.”
Beatrice snorted. “I saw your wand. It’s right here.” She pawed at Honora’s jacket and pulled it out of an inner pocket, still attached to the chain. Honora shoved her away.
“Back off.” Honora grabbed her wand. “This one is cracked.”
“It looks fine to me. Nice chain. I’d like to get one of those,” Beatrice said and moved closer, clearly not bothered by invading another witch’s personal space. She fingered the chain. “Where’s it attached?”
Honora batted her away. “It’s attached to the sleeve. Hands off.”
“Can you get me one? I’ll pay you for it.” Beatrice actually smiled at her, probably for the first time.
“Sure. No problem.” Honora softened, straightened her jacket with her wand securely intact, and turned back to Ophelia. “I’ll be quick and meet you all there.”
“You can get whatever you need in the Halo district or upstairs. But you aren’t leaving our sight. Take Beatrice with you. Now that you two have bonded.” Ophelia nodded to Beatrice and handed Honora the black grimoire. The cover felt slimy beneath her fingers, even though the leather was cracked and dry.
“I’ve marked the charm I’d like you to use,” Ophelia said. “It’s easy enough to pick up. I doubt a witch of your intelligence will have any problems.”
“No problem at all.” This was really happening.
Ophelia scooped up the potion. “I’ll bring this with us just in case.”
Honora had no choice but to go with them now or to blow her cover completely. Her only hope was that Corder had wizards watching them. She could send a signal or perhaps she’d recognize a cop she knew. She followed the group up the steps and into the crowded shop. She milled around, hoping to buy a few precious seconds, and scanned the crowd. She picked up some blood candles and pawed through a huge bowl of black crystals, her mind searching for a solution.
She felt someone’s gaze on her back and turned around sharply, expecting to see one of the Blackbury wizards staring at her, but it wasn’t one of them. Her pulse jumped as she stared into the disapproving glare of Scarlet Card.
“Are you following me?” Honora asked. Hope ignited inside her.
Scarlet’s arms were crossed over her chest. “I knew I’d find you here,” she snapped. “I might as well tell you that I told Vivi all about running into you the other day. I also told her you weren’t acting like yourself.”
Honora grabbed her arm. “I can’t talk. Pretend you don’t know me. Code widow.” She pulled away from Scarlet and hoped she would remember their old emergency code word from when they were in Haven Academy together. Scarlet’s back straightened like a sword and she strode away. Honora scanned the shop. Rex and Rachel were nowhere to be seen and the rest were waiting by the door for her. She exhaled nervously and walked to the bathroom, only to be intercepted by Beatrice.
“You need to hurry up. Ophelia hates to be kept waiting.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Honora said.
“I’ll come with. Who knows how long we’ll be out tonight?” She linked her arm around Honora’s and they headed to the restroom together.
Great. She’d made a new friend, a clinging annoying one.
Honora pushed her way through the bathroom door and darted into an empty stall. She didn’t have to go; instead she prepared the spell for her former partner in crime, Scarlet. When they were in school, they’d developed a way to leave secret messages for each other in the school’s bathrooms. Honora pulled out her wand and held out her palm, making circular motions and whispering the spell and the message. She waited for Beatrice to enter the other stall before exiting hers.
The bathroom was now empty except for the two of them. After turning on the water to muffle the sound of her voice, Honora held her hand up to the mirror, whispered the incantation, and flung the message onto the glass surface. It read simply—Need help. Bring Detective Corder to the bird sanctuary ASAP. Next she made circling motions with her wand and whispered the last part of the spell and watched the words disappear just as Beatrice exited her stall.
“Who were you talking to?” Beatrice’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“No one. I was doing a make-up spell to freshen my face.” Honora pointed to her eyes, hoping she would believe her.
Beatrice stared at her and glanced into the mirror. “It looks good. You’ll have to teach it to me. I’m terrible with make-up. I always put too much on and look like a tramp.” She grinned. “Not that that’s a bad thing.�
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Honora joined her at the sink as they washed their hands. “You look great. But, I can teach you tons of spells. I’d never make it to work on time without some fast concealer spells for Monday mornings.”
Beatrice stopped smiling. “You work as a PI, right? Connie got her license and was hoping to get her business up and going. She mostly caught skips, but she was really good at it.”
Honora treaded lightly. This was the first time any of them had spoken of the dead witch. “I wish I’d known her. I could have helped her. Gotten her a job maybe.”
“That’s nice of you to say. She would have loved that. She was a cool witch.” Her eyes welled with tears.
“What happened to her?” Honora held her breath, waiting for the answer.
“That’s the thing. No one really knows. We were all supposed to meet at Soar for a fun night. No work, no spells, just flying like we used to do in the old days before Ophelia became so obsessed with business.” She brushed a tear off her cheek. “Connie didn’t show.”
“But everyone else was at the bar. Did you see them?” Honora asked.
“Yes, that’s what’s so weird. We were all there. Except Ophelia came a little late, which was weird since it was her idea to have fun that night. But she showed up and Connie never did.”
That was good to know. It sounded like that also gave most of the members of the group an alibi for the time that Connie was killed—all of them except Ophelia.
“I hate to admit it, but I’m a little nervous about tonight.” Honora dried her hands. “Ophelia seems like she doesn’t mess around. Like I’ve got this one shot.”