Marked: Thoth's Legacy ~ Book One

by S. E. Jackson

  Izzy dismissed the man, stuffing her phone back in her purse.“There. Thank you, gentlemen, for your service.”

  Grazog stood, mouth open, as he pointed to something behind Isadora. “Marked? Uh…”

  Worried she was about to be jumped, she swiftly spun back around. Nothing was there. It took her a moment to realize the man was gone too.

  “See? I told you. Gone already.”

  Grazog looked to where the man had stood then back at Isadora. “He umm…he vanished.” Grazog’s eyes were round and he appeared scared. “We should have protected you better. This is our fault.”

  Izzy felt sorry for the little man. “Nothing happened. A friend of his probably pulled up and he just jumped in their car. Nothing to be alarmed about. And, I have his picture,” she dug her phone back out of her purse.

  She knelt down and pressed the button for the screen to light up.

  “Ooh…,” the men chorused. “You share your magic with us?”

  Grazog looked on with an astonished expression.

  “It’s just a cell phone. No magic,” she explained.

  The other gnomes huddled behind Grazog. Izzy opened up the Gallery app on her phone, flipping through the photos until she came to the last pictures taken. The first was an excellent picture of a car. No man, just a car.

  “This is weird.” She flipped to the next, and then the next. Just a car, nothing else in every one of them.

  “You won’t show Grazog your magic?”

  Izzy turned the phone so they all could see. Grazog appeared enraptured.

  “There’s no man in the picture,” Izzy explained.

  “Yes, I said he disappeared.” Grazog nodded.

  “Not before though,” Izzy could tell he didn’t understand her frustration. Grazog stood before her, his head hung in shame.

  “Grazog failed you.”

  “You did no such thing.” Izzy thought for a moment. “Do me a favor though?”

  “We will do anything the Marked needs. We are here to help you in any way.”

  She decided to ignore the whole “Marked” thing for the moment. “If you see him again, let me know please.”

  “Yes, this we can do.” All five of the little men nodded their heads solemnly.

  “Cool, thanks.” She smiled at each of them. “I need to go inside. Get something for my mother.”

  “We will wait.”

  “You don’t have to hang around. I’m good.”

  “But the man? Are you sure?”

  “Yep. I’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll leave then if that is your desire.” The men lurched to attention, straight and tall, one by one they saluted her. “If you need us, someone is always around. Just call.”

  She watched as with military precision each of them fell into line and stomped off, disappearing into the dirt.

  “Bye,” she called after them.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Izzy

  After the gnomes left, Isadora retrieved her key to Agnes’ house and made her way inside. She wanted the chore done. And truthfully, she was hoping Magdalene, whomever she might be, would provide some much-needed clarity of what was going on.

  A thump sounded as she closed the door, echoing in the quiet of the house. Being alone in the home of her childhood shouldn’t have bothered her. Yet, there was a creepy quality to the silence that Izzy had never experienced before. This space was no longer her own. Time had moved on and Izzy with it. With a shrug to rid herself of the melancholy, she pushed on toward the living room and the task at hand.

  Within moments, Izzy had located the end table and inside it, the small phone directory Agnes had described. She leafed through its pages, searching for Magdalene’s number. Contrary to logic, it wasn’t under the M’s. Not knowing her last name, Isadora sat on the couch and started with the A’s until at last, she found her, underneath Edith’s listing.

  Magdalene Philpot. Izzy had never met any of Edith’s relatives that she knew of. Apparently, Agnes had. She reached inside her bag to retrieve her phone and dial the number.

  She listened as it rang. And rang, and rang. Just as her finger was poised to disconnect, a deep voice answered. “Hello?”

  “I- I’m sorry,” Izzy hadn’t expected a man to answer. She stuttered as her mind raced with what to do. “I was calling for a,” she paused to double check the number she had dialed, “Magdalene Philpot?”

  “This is her number,” the voice replied. His authoritative tone accentuated a crisp British accent, a compelling combination. Izzy resisted her impulse to apologize for intruding.

  “May I speak with her then?” Izzy asked.

  “I’m afraid not. May I ask who is calling?”

  She blinked. “My name is Isadora Wilde. May I ask who I’m speaking with?”

  “Isadora Wilde?”

  “Yes,” Izzy answered then asked again, “And, you are?”

  The gentleman on the other end continued to ignore her question. “Why are you calling Magdalene?”

  Irritation for the gentleman’s bad manners had Isadora’s words coming out clipped and stilted. “I’m not in the habit of telling my business to anyone and everyone. If you refuse to state your name or put Magdalene on the line. Can you at least behoove yourself to tell me when I may call and reach her?”

  “Magdalene is dead.”

  The stark words gave her pause. “I’m so, so sorry.” She instantly felt like a bitch and wondered if he was family. “Are you related to Magdalene?”

  “A friend. Thank you for your condolences.” His response lacked the emotion she expected. “Magdalene was a great lady and even greater witch. So, Isadora Wilde, to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

  “My guardian, Agnes Wilde, asked that I call Magdalene. She needs, needed her help. May I tell Agnes how she passed? She’ll want to know, I think.”

  “Needs her help, you say? Whatever for? Last I recall, Agnes is a capable witch in her own right.”

  “I’m not sure why Agnes asked me to contact her.” Isadora didn’t feel it prudent to advertise Agnes’ predicament to a complete stranger.

  “You have no idea? I find that…” his words trailed off, then he finished, “unlikely.”

  Isadora glanced down, noting the connection to Edith and Magdalene and blurted, “Edith is dead.” She winced.

  “Edith? Dead?” His tone changed, becoming harsher.

  “Yes, about a week ago. You knew Edith also? I am so sorry. I fear I’m bungling this completely. ”

  “Edith was Magdalene’s niece,” he explained. Several seconds passed in silence before he relented. “My name is Sebastian. I doubt you know who I am. However, I do know who you are,” he replied cryptically. “Now, as I’m a friend of Agnes and Magdalene,” he continued, “tell me what Agnes needs. Perhaps, I can be of assistance.”

  Mind whirling with more questions than answers, Izzy told him what little she knew. “Agnes is in jail. She requested that I reach Magdalene and ask her to come.” She paused for a moment then added, “Agnes never asks for help. Ever.”

  “Of course she doesn’t. What is she in jail for?”

  “The local sheriff took her in for questioning last night about Edith’s death. She’s still there. The whole thing is just preposterous. Edith and Agnes were tight. Thick as thieves. Agnes would never have done anything to hurt her.”

  “Tell Agnes, I’ll be there before the morrow. Give her my love. And take care, Isadora. I’ll see you soon.” The line clicked off. Izzy pulled the phone away from her ear and just stared at it for a moment before putting it back in her purse.

  She folded Agnes’ small phone book closed and reached over, to place it back in its spot in the drawer. A gold loop, similar to the earring they’d found at the store, winked at her from the drawer’s inner edge. Without thinking, Izzy’s hand grasped it. Eyes blurring as she was ripped into another vision. Fear, running, must hide.

  Izzy forced her fingers to stretch open and drop the item, stari
ng at the spot where it lay. Why did Agnes have it? The implications were staggering. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. Izzy knew she needed to talk to Agnes. But, she wasn’t optimistic that she’d like the answers. Things kept changing. Her world had been bumped off its axis by Edith’s death and Izzy was beginning to believe that it would never be the same again.

  ◆◆◆

  Isadora pushed through the doors at the police station with purpose. She needed answers, and Agnes was the only person who could give them to her.

  At Izzy’s approach, an older woman seated at the front desk looked up. Hands fully involved in the yarn and needles she held, she extricated herself from the task and gave Izzy her full attention. Kind eyes peered over her half-lenses as she asked, “Can I help you?”

  “I hope you can,” Izzy began. “I’m here for a family member. Agnes Wilde? Is there any chance I can see her?”

  “We can probably work something out, dear. Let me go see what I can do. Why don’t you take a seat,” she pointed toward a row of chairs against the wall a few feet away. “I won’t be but a moment.” The woman pushed back from the desk as she spoke. She spun in the direction of the offices on the right, stopping at one with a plaque by the door which read “Sheriff Pope”.

  Isadora settled herself in one of the seats she’d been shown and waited. The place was quieter than she imagined it would be. There was a faint clicking sound as someone pecked away at their keyboard at their desk. The shrill ring of a phone carried from down the hall. Otherwise, the building was quiet, nothing like the cacophony she expected.

  The rat-a-tat of heels announced the woman’s return as she strode back to her desk, her genial smile still in place.

  “The sheriff said that’s fine for you to speak with her. Just give me a moment to get someone to go get her out of her cell.”

  She turned toward the lone gentleman seated toward the back of the room.

  “Buddy? Can you get this young woman processed and into the interview room? She’s here to see Agnes Wilde. The sheriff already approved it.”

  The man sized Izzy up, eyes narrowing as he stood. “Yeah, fine. C’mon and let’s get you sorted.” Buddy lumbered over to the front of the room where Izzy waited. He pointed to the desk, “Place your purse and anything in your pockets on Doris’ desk,” he instructed. “We don’t want you passing weapons to your friend if you get my drift. No knives, guns, cell phones. Everything on her desk. You’ll get them back when you leave.”

  Izzy followed his instructions, divesting herself of everything but the clothing on her back. As she turned over all her possessions, she wondered if Agnes felt this same sense of violation. Probably, even more so, she concluded.

  “Okay, let’s get you checked in. Follow me.” All business, the officer escorted her out of the room and down a small corridor on the left. At the door of the second room, he stopped.

  “Put your arms out,” he lifted his own to mimic a T stance. “Legs apart.” He walked over and grabbed a small wand off a nearby table, moving the machine up and down her body - front and back. It remained silent in its inspection.

  “Good job, all clear. Now, sorry about this, but face the wall, hands against it. I need to check you for concealed.”

  Izzy’s eyes widened, “Is this really necessary?”

  “Afraid so if you want to see your friend.” The officer shrugged he didn’t care either way.

  Anger warred with alarm as Izzy braced herself against the wall as instructed. Her mind blanked as he performed the procedure, following his hands with her mind’s eye as he touched and skimmed his hands across her body. She winced as his hands breezed across her privates.

  When she finally looked up, his eyes remained impassive and professional. “I try to be as non-invasive as possible. I know it ain’t fun but it’s procedure.”

  Izzy gave a fast nod and ducked into the room as he opened the door.

  “You can wait here. I’ll bring Agnes out in just a minute.”

  Izzy didn’t look up, just grunted out her understanding as she studied the sparse furnishings. She settled herself on the edge of one of the two metal chairs that had been provided. In the corner near the ceiling, a camera watched the room. It was a stark reminder that anything said in that room was probably being recorded.

  Less than five minutes later, she heard shuffling sounds then the door opened.

  “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” Buddy told them then closed the door again to give them at least the illusion of privacy.

  Agnes stood in the door, her hands cuffed in front, staring daggers at her.

  “I told you not to come.”

  “Yes, yes you did,” Isadora answered. “What you didn’t tell me was what’s going on? I called your friend, Magdalene? She’s dead.”

  Izzy watched Agnes’ face for something, anything. She didn’t even flinch.

  “Instead I reached a Sebastian? He’s a real piece of work. He seemed to know who you were and more puzzling who I am. He’s coming by the way.”

  “You need to mind your tone,” Agnes scolded. “If Magdalene is dead, he’s the current president of the Southeastern Council of Witches.”

  Isadora let that nugget of information sink in. That explained his arrogance, but now she had even more questions.

  Agnes continued, “I appreciate his help. Did he say when he would come?”

  “No, just to tell you he was on his way.”

  Isadora wanted to bring up the earring. The accusation lay on her tongue, burning in its desire to be spoken. Now wasn’t the time though. Her eyes darted again to the camera.

  “I just wanted you to know he’s coming. Is there anything I can do to help?” Izzy decided not to burden Agnes with Maeve’s actions either. There was nothing she could do from where she sat. And Agnes had enough troubles for now.

  “No, I’ll be fine,” Agnes didn’t explain, didn’t give Isadora any indication of what was going on. For just a moment, Agnes’ strength faltered. “You know I’m innocent, right?” Agnes so rarely showed weakness, Isadora instantly caved to the tone.

  “Of course I do. This is just a momentary thing. We’ll get you out of here, and they’ll figure out who really did it,” Izzy assured her. Privately, she was starting to wonder if she should be asking more questions about the case. Something was off.

  Agnes was keeping her own counsel. The wind and gnomes were now talking to her on an almost daily basis. One of her oldest friends was dead. Isadora didn’t know what to think. Maybe the gnomes were on to something. Izzy wasn’t ready to declare war yet, but she would definitely be paying closer attention to everything.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Izzy

  For Izzy, it was a relief to be back at work the following day. Work equaled normal of which she desperately needed a hefty dose. The day was winding to a close, and her feet were killing her. She was thankful for even that.

  Cass stood at the front of the store, locking the door. Their part-time help Jasmine was tidying up several displays which had been decimated by customers throughout the day. Izzy watched them from behind the counter. The till with the money they’d made for the day was resting beside her. Izzy’s hand held the receipt tape - guiding it as the register printed out the daily sales totals.

  She peeked at the numbers on the tape. “Another banner day for Indulgence!”

  Cass walked toward her and the counter, leaving Jasmine to finish tidying the floor. “Excellent!” Her shout wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as Izzy’s had been. “I’m beat.”

  “You look tired,” Izzy agreed.

  “Thanks a whole lot!” Cass scowled back.

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Izzy turned her head to spy where Jasmine was. “We need to talk.”

  Cass pulled the stool they kept by the register away from where Izzy was working and plopped down on it. “About?”

  “About things,” Izzy answered cryptically, her eyes darting between Cass and Jasmine.


  “Things?” Cass caught on quick. “Oh, those things! Sure, we can talk.” Her voice dropped dramatically, “Has something happened?”

  “No,” Izzy stated immediately. Her shoulders slumped as she felt Cass’s gaze, “Maybe. You heard from Maeve, right?”

  Cass darted her own eyes over to Jasmine. “Yep. Woman’s a loon. But, we knew that.”

  “True,” Izzy agreed. “But there’s more.”

  “More?”

  “Do we still have that earring here? The one I asked you to get rid of?” Izzy asked, changing direction.

  Cass studied her face for a moment, “We do. Why are you asking?”

  “I think I found its mate.”

  “Seriously? Where?” Cass all but shouted. Jasmine stopped what she was doing and stared at them for a moment. “Sorry! Izzy’s telling me about a sale at the mall.”

  Jasmine’s attention perked up, “Anything good?”

  “Towels,” Cass improvised. “Those thick ones that are a mile long.”

  Jasmine reverted her attention back to the table, dismissing them. “I’ll have to rush right over,” she added sarcastically.

  “You’ll be excited about the good towels being on sale too one day. Watch my words!” Cass told her. Jasmine just nodded while she worked.

  “Cass,” Izzy spoke, pulling Cass back to their conversation.

  “Sure, when do you want to get together?” Cass asked. “Should we include Wren? She asked me to come to try some new brew she’s made. It’s supposed to be the ultimate relaxer. Helps you clear your thoughts.”

  “If she doesn’t mind, I’d love to tag along. I could use a bit of relaxing.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine with an addition of an extra. She wanted opinions. I’ll call her from the back,” Cass gestured to their office/storage area at the back of the store, “just as soon as I get enough energy to stand.”