Cloaks and Daggers

by Annabel Chase

  “I showed up out of nowhere because I’ve been in stasis for years.”

  I peered at him. “What’s stasis?”

  “Like a deep sleep. What humans might refer to as a coma.”

  “Why?” Diana gurgled so I put a reassuring hand on her belly.

  Calix inhaled through his nostrils and released a breath. “Basically I put myself in a timeout.”

  “Now I’m really confused. When?”

  “After your mother and I parted ways,” he said. “Sometimes when I end up feeling particularly attached to another living being and the relationship ends, I need time to recuperate.”

  “So you put yourself in a self-induced coma because of a bad breakup?” Calix was more emotional than I realized. Maybe I was my father’s daughter after all.

  “It’s uncomfortable for me,” he said. “And now made even worse by the fact that I didn’t know she was pregnant. If only I’d waited to enter stasis, I might have known before she cloaked you.”

  “Why do you think she did that?”

  “She had a dangerous job. I assume it was more to do with that and I was a victim of her decision, as were you.”

  I mulled over his assumption. “You don’t think she deliberately gave me up for adoption so that you wouldn’t find me?”

  “I don’t see why she would. I suspect it was to keep you safe from her enemies. She must have cloaked your birth, which is why I didn’t sense it. I have a strong connection to my progeny. That’s how I found you now.”

  I frowned. “I thought it was because I performed a summoning spell.”

  He glanced at the happy baby. “I think your husband was right—that it was Diana. Her birth was like a beacon calling me home. It’s the reason I awoke.”

  “You were still in…stasis?”

  He nodded. “I had no desire to rejoin the living, until the alert.”

  “How did you know you had a daughter?” I asked. “When you showed up, you already knew about me.”

  “When I awoke, I felt a feminine presence and recognized it as my child. Then I felt another feminine presence, this one a subset of the other. It’s hard to explain to a non-god.” He chuckled. “That sounds pompous, I realize.”

  Pretty much every word out of his mouth sounded pompous. “Okay. So you have some kind of god-ar.”

  “God-ar?”

  “God radar,” I said. “But I have your genes. Shouldn’t I have it too?”

  “Perhaps you do on a lesser scale.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “Anyhoo, that’s what brought me here to you. A knowing.”

  “Why were you heartbroken over my mother? Was she the one to end the relationship?” I tickled Diana under the chin and she giggled.

  “She did.” His mouth tightened. “It was for the best, but I regret much of what happened later. Not knowing about you. Her untimely demise. Perhaps if I hadn’t selfishly entered stasis, I could have been there to save her.”

  For a moment, I felt sorry for the demigod. He seemed to genuinely suffer her loss. “I don’t know much about her, but it seems like she might have resented you for saving her. She wasn’t the damsel in distress type.”

  He chuckled. “No, certainly not.” He looked into my eyes. “Like mother, like daughter apparently.”

  I bent down and kissed Diana’s forehead. “And granddaughter.” I felt a strange sense of satisfaction knowing that, if nothing else, that was my mother’s legacy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Today we’re performing a spell to conjure a past memory,” Professor Holmes said. He stood at the front of the classroom at the Arabella St. Simon Academy, or ASS Academy as it was affectionately known.

  Excited murmurs followed his announcement.

  “This might be more advanced than what you’re used to, but the High Priestess believes that we should challenge ourselves.” He twisted a hand in a casual gesture. “And so here we are.”

  “What makes it more advanced?” Laurel asked.

  “The amount of magic. The intensity of the energy.” Professor Holmes tapped his cheek thoughtfully. “I imagine some of you might not manage it on the first try.”

  “I’ll go first,” Laurel said. “I bet I can do it.”

  “I bet you can too,” I said. Laurel was a talented witch, despite her younger age.

  “Emma should go first,” Begonia said. “She can’t stay for the whole lesson.”

  “Then why should she go at all?” Avery asked. She tucked a strand of cornsilk hair behind her ear. “The rest of us are taking class seriously. We’re the ones who should get to participate.”

  “Emma’s not sneaking out to smoke under the bleachers,” Begonia said heatedly. “She had a baby and is taking time off.”

  “I don’t even know what smoking under the bleachers means,” Avery said. “Is it a fire spell?”

  I started to laugh but quickly smothered it with a cough. Avery was already annoyed with me. No need to make it worse.

  “I don’t have to take a turn,” I said. “I’m happy to observe.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Begonia said. “You have every right to participate.”

  “Why don’t we organize into small groups?” Professor Holmes said. “Then we’ll all be sure to get an opportunity to practice.”

  “Good idea,” Millie said. She linked arms with me. “Here’s my group. Emma, you can go first.” She tossed a haughty look in Avery’s direction.

  “Fine with me,” Avery said loudly. “Now I don’t have to relive Emma’s dull memories. I mean she’s a married mom. How exciting can they be?”

  “For someone so smart, she’s pretty stupid,” Millie said.

  My group huddled in the corner of the room away from Avery and her cohorts. We took out our wands and reviewed the paper that Professor Holmes had distributed.

  “He doesn’t usually suggest the verbiage,” Laurel said. She inspected the suggested rhymes. “You only want to do a small piece of a meaningful day, so I’d start here.” She tapped the paragraph at the top of the paper.

  I hesitated. “I don’t want to relive the birth though. It was pretty traumatic.”

  “Maybe it’ll be your wedding,” Begonia said. “That’s a nice memory.”

  “You have to focus on the emotion you want to experience,” Laurel said. “That will help. Don’t be scared or upset.”

  I nodded and clutched Tiffany in both hands. Sophie loosened my grip. “You’ll be reliving the showdown with Lady Weatherby if that’s the emotion you choose.”

  “I’ll take your wand,” Laurel said. “You don’t need it for this.”

  I handed over my wand and flexed my fingers. “I did something like this before in therapy,” I said. Beatrice had performed that spell and it hadn’t gone well. “This one is a little different though.” And I had to perform it myself, not just experience the memory.

  “Are you ready?” Sophie asked.

  I shook my shoulders and exhaled. “Okay.” I gathered my energy and focused my will. I hadn’t practiced much magic since Diana’s birth so it felt strange to get back on the broomstick. I thought about the instructions and chose a memory of Daniel and I spending quality time together. If I avoided Diana, then I wouldn’t go back to the birth. I let the energy build inside me. When it reached the right level, I murmured, “Raindrops on roses, foam on the sea/Take me to the chosen memory.”

  I closed my eyes and concentrated until a blurry image formed. “I see a psychic. There’s a crystal ball.”

  “Kassandra?” Millie asked.

  “No.” I tried to focus inside my head. The vision became clearer and suddenly I knew. “Veronica!”

  “Who’s Veronica?” Sophie asked.

  “Daniel and I went to see her during our babymoon in Starry Hollow. She gave us a message.” My heart beat like a drum as I relived the conversation.

  “Power stirs yet still sleeps,” Veronica said.

  I patted my stomach. “More stirring than sleeping lately.”

&nb
sp; Veronica ignored me, now in a trancelike state. “Power soon awakens.”

  “How soon?” Daniel asked. “I mean, the nursery is all ready, but I’d like more time to practice fastening diapers.”

  Veronica’s hands began to tremble. “The child is an ember.”

  “No, that’s me,” Ember said.

  “And yet also a spark,” Veronica continued. “The child ushers in a new beginning.”

  “That’s true of any child,” Ember murmured.

  Veronica’s eyes opened and I saw only the whites—no pupils. “The light will shine. The child is a beacon.”

  “Of hope?” I asked.

  My eyes fluttered open. “Spell’s bells.”

  “What is it?” Begonia asked. “What did you see?”

  “She predicted Calix,” I said. “That Diana’s birth would be a beacon.” I placed my hand on my chest as though it could still my beating heart.

  “Did she say anything bad about him?” Laurel asked.

  I tried to recall the rest of the conversation. “No, I don’t think so. Just that Diana’s birth would serve as a signal to him.”

  “Cool,” Sophie said.

  Millie scrunched her nose in dismay. “It’s not that cool. The woman claims to be a psychic. It’s sort of to be expected.”

  “Too bad she’s not in Spellbound,” Begonia said. “You could see her again and get more information.”

  “Psychics don’t work that way,” Laurel said. “They’re not like computers. You don’t ask direct questions and get direct answers.”

  Millie jutted out a hip. “One trip to another place and now you’re a computer expert?”

  Laurel adjusted her glasses. “I’m an everything expert.”

  I suppressed a smile. Laurel was growing up—she was giving it right back to Millie.

  “It’s not like it tells you anything new,” Millie said. “It’s a moment you’ve already experienced.”

  “I know, but I see it differently now,” I said. “I didn’t know what Veronica meant at the time. To be honest, I’d forgotten, but now it makes so much sense.” It also meant my father was telling the truth about the circumstances, at least in relation to his stasis and the birth. That seemed important.

  “How are we doing over here?” Professor Holmes approached our group with a kindly smile. “Any successes?”

  I raised a hand. “I managed.”

  “Excellent, not that I had any doubt,” he said. “You look well, Emma. I’m glad you were able to join us, even if only temporarily.”

  “I’ll be back to full-time classes as soon as it makes sense,” I said. “I miss seeing everyone.”

  “And we miss you,” Begonia said. She leaned her head on my shoulder.

  “I hate to spell and run, but I should go,” I said. “The baby needs to feed.”

  “No worries,” Professor Holmes said. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Laurel returned my wand and I waved to everyone as I left. Once we were safely out of the classroom, I looked up at the professor.

  “Are you going to the hearing later?” I asked.

  His eyes flashed with surprise. “I thought I would. You?”

  “Yes.” I paused. “How do you feel about it?” He and Lady Weatherby had been close friends and colleagues. I had to imagine his feelings were mixed.

  “I haven’t decided,” he said. “The betrayal was difficult, but I still have great affection for Jacinda.”

  “That’s understandable,” I said. “You worked side-by-side in the coven for years.”

  He stroked his beard. “I’m not sure what she intends, but I hope if the release comes through that she’ll make better choices this time around.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Are you concerned?” the wizard asked.

  “Like you, I’m undecided. I don’t think she’s vindictive like Mayor Knightsbridge or Sheriff Hugo.”

  “No, I don’t either.”

  We stood at the door that led to the outside. “That makes me feel better,” I said. “Everyone thinks I’m just trying to see the good in everyone and that I’m slightly delusional.”

  He cupped my chin in his warm hand. “You’re not delusional, Emma. You’re compassionate and you’re hopeful and it would be a shame to ever lose those qualities, especially now that you have a child to pass them onto. You turn your beliefs into actions and those actions make the world a better place.”

  “Thank you, Professor. I needed to hear that today.” I pushed open the door and sunlight spilled into the corridor. “I’ll see you there.”

  My body tingled with anticipation as I entered the Great Hall. I hadn’t seen Lady Weatherby since my visit to the prison. I slipped into a seat at the back and tried to remain inconspicuous but to no avail. Rochester noticed me from the front of the room and gave an enthusiastic wave that only served to draw attention to me. I ducked down in my seat and prayed that Lady Weatherby didn’t see me.

  Too late. The former head of the coven turned her head from her place in the front row and our eyes locked. Her lips curved in a vague smile and I couldn’t decide whether it was meant to be reassuring or threatening. Lady Weatherby had always been difficult to read. I wiggled my fingers in greeting and she turned back to face the judge.

  Mayor Lucy slid into the seat beside me, her wings whipping back and forth. “Have they started?”

  “Not yet,” I whispered. “I was hoping it would be underway so I could slip in unnoticed, but no such luck.”

  A look of concern flashed across the fairy’s face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Nervous,” I admitted. “I worry that she’ll hold a grudge.”

  “You’re a tough sorceress, Emma,” Mayor Lucy said, “and you have the support of an entire town behind you. If Weatherby’s smart, she’ll head somewhere far away.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about,” I said. “Daniel and I can both take care of ourselves, but we have Diana to consider now. She’s going to inherit our enemies.”

  Mayor Lucy fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. “What about Calix? Do you think he could put the fear of the gods into Weatherby? Make sure she never bothers you again?”

  My body tensed at the mention of my father. “You think I should use him as some sort of goon?”

  She shrugged. “I know I’d do whatever he said.”

  I contemplated her suggestion but kept my gaze on the proceedings ahead. “Maybe he’ll deny her request.”

  “He won’t,” Mayor Lucy said. “I have it on good authority.”

  My stomach plummeted. I thought as much. “This feels worse than Mayor Knightsbridge.” I’d trusted Lady Weatherby—she’d been part of my coven—and she’d let us all down. My issues with the witch felt far more personal.

  “What did Agnes have to say?”

  “I can tell she’s conflicted,” I said, “but you know Agnes. She doesn’t like to show vulnerability.”

  “It must be hard,” Mayor Lucy said. “Lady Weatherby is her daughter. She must feel a sense of responsibility for her actions.”

  I thought about Diana. If my child did wrong when she was older, would I feel somehow responsible? I wasn’t sure yet, but I suspected the answer would be yes.

  “What about Limpet?” Mayor Lucy asked. “Is she worried that Weatherby will try to take back the coven?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think she’ll be allowed back in the coven, let alone take control of it.”

  “Another reason for her to move away,” Mayor Lucy said.

  Judge Lee Millville presided over the hearing. He was tall for a dwarf, which wasn’t that impressive really. His hair resembled a bullet—it coated his head like a thick, silver helmet. The dwarf banged a gavel on the table. “The hearing will now commence.” We listened intently as the judge read the request for Weatherby’s release. “And now the petitioner would like to say a few words and I’ve decided to grant her request.”

  A speech? Ugh.

  Lady Weatherby took he
r place at the front of the room and turned to address the onlookers. “Greetings, friends.”

  “Well, that’s presumptuous,” Mayor Lucy whispered.

  “I am sure that some of you oppose my release, that I have yet to serve out my sentence, and I understand your feelings on the subject. That being said, I would like to assure each and every one of you that I mean Spellbound no harm. I simply intend to leave here and slip into obscurity. Perhaps find another coven to join, though I doubt any will allow me to lead and rightfully so.” She paused to draw breath. “To those I have wronged, may I offer my sincere apologies. I have had much time to think during my imprisonment, and I know I have upset and disappointed more paranormals than I care to count. It is my legacy and I must bear it with shame and regret.” She lowered her head. “I won’t ask for your forgiveness because I do not deserve it. I remain your humble servant, Jacinda Ruth Weatherby.” She returned to her seat. Despite her words, she still retained the same regal air she’d always possessed. She could work as a cashier at Walmart and you’d still suspect you were being waited on by secret royalty.

  I caught Professor Holmes’s eye and he gave an almost imperceptible shrug that suggested he wasn’t sure about her sincerity either. Ultimately it didn’t matter what we thought. It was up to the judge now and he was ruling on the papers rather than the speech anyway.

  “We’re not here to debate the petitioner’s guilt or innocence in the underlying case,” the judge said, once the witch had returned to her seat. “This is a matter of jurisprudence that must be rectified.”

  “So she’s really getting off on a technicality,” Mayor Lucy muttered. “Perfect.”

  As suspected, the hearing seemed to be a mere formality because he issued his order immediately afterward.

  “I hereby order the release of Jacinda Weatherby with immediate effect.” He banged the gavel. “This hearing is adjourned.”

  No one clapped. No one hugged her. Slowly she rose to her feet and strode down the aisle, the hem of her black dress trailing behind her. I wasn’t sure how she was able to change into her own clothes prior to her release, yet here she was in full Lady Weatherby splendor. The only thing missing was her antler headdress.