Magic & Mini Skirts

by Beverly Sanders

  “Is it morning already?” Babbs asked.

  “Looks like it . . .”

  She rose to her feet, wiping the sleep from her eyes before sleepily making her way to the kitchen and pouring a cup of coffee. A whole lot of cream and sugar later, she finally brought it to her lips, slowly nursing it in silence. I was sure she wanted to know what I was thinking, whether I thought my boyfriend was a murder or if the night had done its job in clearing my mind.

  And as much as I didn’t want to talk about it, I saw no need in keeping her in suspense any longer than I had to. “He didn’t do this,” I said.

  “I know that. I’m just glad you do too.”

  “So, we need a plan.”

  “Way ahead of ya there, darling.” Babbs got to her feet. “Check this out . . . we’re gonna figure out what the hell’s going on and who killed Hannah. Sound like a plan?”

  “We need to get to the library,” I replied. “Maybe Abben will know something.”

  “Like I said. We’ve got this.”

  6

  It was still pretty early when Babbs and I left the house, which meant that the southern humidity hadn’t reached its full sweltering potential just yet. Not sure what the day would bring or where we’d end up before nightfall, I opted for a simple pair of black yoga pants with pink trim while Babbs opted for navy with grey trim. We’d both work breezy off-the-shoulder tops with three-quarter-length sleeves and put our hair in simple high ponytails.

  What we wore didn’t matter much, I suppose, but being a fashion designer, I couldn’t help but think about things like that even during stressful times. Besides, I’d been through this song and dance before. I knew going to meet with the Haerewayh girls would likely lead us somewhere unexpected.

  Thanks to recent events and the sheer amount of people crossing back and forth between the mortal realm and the magical realm, we no longer needed to go to the lake. Small pockets linking the two places seemed to pop up more and more everyday. Not that I expected anything less. With so much magic in one place and so many young witches and warlocks now out chasing their dreams, it made no sense to keep such tight borders.

  “This place just gets better every day,” Babbs noted, looking around at all the new shops and social scenes popping up around Second Buckhead.

  “I know,” I said. “It hard to believe how different it looks now compared to when I first arrived here. But there are a lot more witches now.”

  “The population is really booming!” she said.

  “Did Kianna ever figure out what that was about?” I asked, motioning to the tattoo on her arm. The thing just popped up one night, burning itself into both Kianna’s and Babbs’s skin simultaneously. It seemed to make them both a little more powerful, especially Babbs. It also seemed to link them somehow, as if they could feel one another through magic.

  “She’s working on it.” Babbs glided her hand over the intricate lines. “It’s old, she knows that. But she’s having trouble finding much on it in the library. At least she was the last time I asked. I kind of forget about it sometimes.”

  “I can see that,” I said. “It’s not like it’s changed much.”

  “No. I mean, my magic is a bit more honed now. But that’s about it.”

  Magic is a complex thing. There are so many levels, so many various kinds, and so many ways it can go wrong. And that’s not even talking about all the ways in which we witches, the people who wield it, don’t even understand it.

  It’s easy to think of magic as this sort of mystical thing in the air, this element that we’ve learned to harness and manipulate. And sure, that’s kind of true, but not totally. Magic is alive more than it’s not. For the most part, it does what we ask of it, but there are times when it has different plans altogether. And in those times, there isn’t much we can do to stop it.

  Babbs may not know why that mark is on her arm, but that’s likely because the magic that put it there isn’t ready to tell her. Kianna can look through books and search out history, but the truth is, nothing is going to happen until the fates say so. She knew that. We all did. But every good witch also knows that both fate and magic need a little nudge sometimes.

  “I know she’ll get to the bottom of it,” Babbs said. “Until then, it isn’t bothering me. Although . . .”

  “What?”

  “There was this one time, the other night, when it began to . . . I don’t know. Tingle.”

  “Tingle?”

  “Yeah. Like I could feel it almost burning or something. The way your skin does after a light sunburn. It only happened for a few minutes. Then it stopped. Nothing seemed to come of it though.”

  “Have you told Kianna?”

  “No. I was going to tell her the other day at The Cheesecake Factory, but it never came up. I got distracted.”

  “Oh, right.” I smiled. “The guy. What was his name?”

  “Finn.”

  “After everything that happened, I forgot to ask what happened there. I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “No,” I insisted. “You always ask about Nicco and me. Besides, I genuinely care. Tell me everything.”

  She looked at me, that little glimmer in her eye that let me know she was trying to be coy but also wanted so badly to dish on the cute guy. And cute he was. I hated myself for forgetting to ask her about it. Sure, I know I’d been busy with Hannah and Nicco, but that was no excuse. This was my best friend, and if something was going on with her, then I wanted to know.

  Back home, I’d spent so little time talking about things like this, about guys and clothes and food. They were simple things, and to most mortal girls, it would have probably sounded crazy that it was all new to me. But I was who I was, right?

  That’s another thing about life. You just can’t ever really control it, even when you think you can. Parents, location, upbringing . . . they all play such a large role in our lives and we can’t choose any of them, at least not in the beginning. By the time most people are old enough to make their own choices, their attitude, outlook, and demeanor have already been bred into them. It’s among the least-fair things in any realm, magical or mortal. Luckily, I found just the right place and friend to help me blend the old me with the new me.

  “Well . . .” She gave her best teen girl face, rolling her eyes and raising her voice. “His name is Finn.”

  “Right . . .”

  “He works for Simon Properties. He’s regional manager for the brand. He kind of goes around the Atlanta area making sure everything is kept up to standards.”

  “Is that why he was there?”

  “No. He was just having lunch at the bar. A salad and a drink, if you call that lunch.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Well, of course not,” she replied. “I told him to order some pasta or something.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “Hard to tell just yet. He seemed sweet though. He comes from a big family. Four sisters.”

  “Four? Wow! That is a big family.”

  It was an especially big family for me. I’d never questioned it until finding my way to the mortal realm, but back in Enchanted Lake, no one really had big families like that. I was an only child, as were most of my friends. It was rare for anyone to have more than one child and almost unheard of for anyone to have more than two. But four . . . I couldn’t even imagine that.

  The longer I spent in Second Buckhead, though, the less odd it seemed to me. I’d found myself wondering why it was that way, though I was sure I’d never find the answer. It was likely just a cultural thing.

  “Yeah. I know, right?” She shrugged. “Anyway. He’s got four sisters. His dad passed away a few years ago from a heart attack and then he moved to Atlanta.”

  “From where?” I asked, assuming he’d been from Georgia his whole life.

  “Kentucky.”

  “Oh. Ever been there?”

  “Once.” Babbs adjusted her ponytail. “We went to Louisville once whe
n I was a kid to visit some of my dad’s family. I remember being bored more than anything else. But on the fourth of July, we went down to the river and watched the fireworks.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “It wasn’t,” she replied. “It was super-hot and very crowded. Besides, I’ve never been one to care much about fireworks. I just don’t get the whole draw.”

  “I guess people just like the colors.” I stopped next to a large tree near the edge of Kerry Street. “Here . . . I saw this portal yesterday. It must have just opened.”

  It was one of many new open portals that I’d noticed over the last few days, each one less and less difficult to pass through, each one more visible than the one before. At least to those able to see them

  “At this rate, Enchanted Lake and Second Buckhead are going to become one large community.”

  “Would that be so bad?” I asked, placing my hand on the tree.

  The ride home was pretty smooth . . .

  “Hey, girl,” I said, stepping into the library.

  Abben sat perched behind her desk, looking down at me. Even though I knew the truth of who she was, I couldn’t help but be taken aback when I saw her sitting up there like that. She had to put on such a show, such resting witch face that it always caught me off guard. Honestly, though, I didn’t really understand why it was necessary. Why not just tell the world that the Haerewayh Coven are among the coolest witches in the world?

  “Hello.” Abben stepped down from her desk, then waved her hands toward the large wrought iron doors. They slammed shut, a loud echo dancing through the cavernous library. “You didn’t show.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “The rooftop. Practicing spells. I came. You didn’t show.”

  “Oh, my God, Abben. I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”

  “It’s okay,” she replied, a deep level of frustration in her voice. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t forget who you are. Maybe that’s not that important to you.”

  “That’s not it. Something happened at the meeting with the store owner. It’s bad . . .”

  “Bad how?” Her demeanor changed instantly.

  “She’s dead,” I replied.

  “Wow. That’s a pretty bad meeting . . .”

  Abben, Babbs, and I headed to the back room to meet up with Kianna and Halloway. Even though I’d only been back there a handful of times, I still loved the way that place looked. Not that anyone would be surprised by that. It was, after all, themed after I Dream of Jeanie. The bright pinks and purples mixed with large jewels and gold accents. It was completely over the top and totally unnecessary, but that’s what made it so great.

  Well, that and the amazing trio that lived there. They were like a real-life Sex and The City group of girls, fashionable, love-troubled, and always there for one another. They just happened to be able to cast, that’s all.

  “There’s footage of Nicco leaving the store just before Babbs and I discovered her body.”

  “Wait? What?” Abben asked. “Tell me everything.”

  I spent the next few minutes explaining things to Abben in as much detail as I possibly could. I tried to present things in a balanced and well thought out way even though the more I talked about it, the more stressed I became.

  “Where is Nicco now?” she asked.

  “That’s the thing. I don’t know. We went back to the apartment and he wasn’t there. I cast a memory illusion though. After leaving the store, he came home, grabbed a few things, and then left. He was kind of flustered. It doesn’t look great. I know—”

  “What about the body?” Abben asked. “Anything there? Anything to go on?”

  “No,” I replied.

  “Well,” Babbs spoke up, pulling out her cellphone, “that might not be true.”

  7

  “All right,” Abben said, pulling another book from the shelf. “Let’s check this one.”

  We’d spent the last few hours looking through book after book, trying to find the meaning or purpose of the symbol Babbs and I had seen carved into the fountain. So far, the only thing we knew for sure was that it was Lycan in nature. Nicco’s face flashed through my mind again. I was doing my best to hold on to the idea of his innocence.

  “Everything I find links back to this old text.” Abben sighed. “I’m pretty well-read, but this is like a whole other thing. I have no idea what it says.”

  “But you’re sure it’s Lycan magic?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Abben replied. “It’s all right here. It’s absolutely a Lycan symbol, but I just can’t decipher it. At least not until I find the proper volumes. Which, at the moment, seem to be missing.”

  “Where could they have gone?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, a puzzled look coming over her face. “You said this woman was a human, right?”

  “I thought she was. But that was only because I never questioned it. I didn’t feel anything resonating from her, no magic, no wolf pheromones, nothing.” I thought back to our time together. “But like I said, I was distracted with the idea of the store. Magic, werewolves . . . they were the furthest things from my mind.”

  “I don’t know why anyone else would carve this symbol. There’s no way it was just a mistake. It’s far too intricate for that. Whoever carved it knew what they were doing it. Or at least, they thought they did.”

  I took the book in my hands, hopelessly looking over every page. But I couldn’t understand a word of it. Nothing made sense. The old Lycan language had never really been written. I’d always heard it was something just passed down by spoken word, which meant that even if Abben found the book, it would likely be incorrect.

  “Unless Nicco wrote it.” Halloway looked up from another book.

  “Nicco?”

  “He’s a werewolf. At least part of him is, right? If anyone would know what this symbol meant, it would be him.”

  “Why would Nicco carve it?” I asked, a million different scenarios running through my mind. Of course it wasn’t Nicco, right? “Was it the symbol that killed her?”

  “Until I find the meaning of it, there’s no way to answer that,” Abben said. “It could be a weapon, a curse of some kind. That’s the most probable thing anyway. And you said it wasn’t there before he arrived, right?”

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t notice it. Not until we found her.”

  “It looks pretty fresh in these photos.” Halloway replied. “My money’s on Nicco.”

  “Hey!” I snapped. “He’s not a killer!”

  “I never said he was,” Halloway replied. “But he’s a werewolf-warlock hybrid. It doesn’t get much more dangerous than that. And I doubt some little human would know enough about Lycan magic to perfectly carve something like this.”

  “Maybe Hannah was a werewolf,” Babbs said, doing her best to quell the rising heat between Halloway and me.

  Don’t get me wrong here. I know how complicated things can get and I know people aren’t always what they appear. But hearing someone else accuse Nicco of something like this was hard, even if I was thinking it myself.

  There was a chance, yes. But there was a much larger chance that he was innocent.

  “Maybe she was,” I said. “I’ve never known Nicco to care much about Lycan history anyway. I’ve never seen him write it or speak it.” That was at least partially true.

  My mind flashed back to the small leather-bound notebook he grabbed before running out the door of our apartment. To the wet shirt he left behind. Babbs and I had both seen him writing in that journal many times, but I’d never actually looked to see what it was he was writing. For all I knew, he could have been drawing that damn symbol every night until he perfected it. My head began pounding under the stress of the situation.

  “There’s a club!” Babbs said. “At the edge of Second Buckhead. It’s new!”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Abben asked.

  “It’s a werewolf club.”

  “Okay . . .”


  “Well let’s go there,” Babbs suggested. “All the Lycan packs that live in Enchanted Lake are basically not even involved with the wolf community anymore. They’ve been here for years. But Second Buckhead has seen an insurgence of magical creatures ever since the fashion show. We have wolves that have come straight from Mistros!”

  “How do you know so much about the Lycan community here in Enchanted Lake?” Abben asked.

  “Nicco told me,” she said.

  “I don’t know, Babbs,” I replied. “A club? Now? I’m not really feeling up to it.”

  “I’m not saying dance the night away. I’m just saying we take the symbol there and ask around. Whatever chance we stand of finding the meaning there, we have next to none here. Not with the books missing and the language unwritten.”

  “She has a point,” Kianna said.

  “Of course you would agree.” Halloway rolled her eyes.

  “What’s your issue today, Halloway?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I’m fine. If y’all want to go to the Lycan club, then we’ll go to the Lycan club. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

  “Hey,” Babbs said. “This is important to her. The least you could do is be supportive.”

  “Supportive?” Halloway scoffed. “I—”

  “Enough!” Abben stood, slamming the book closed. “Halloway, I don’t know what your issue is, but you need to get it under control.”

  “I don’t have an issue.” She sighed. “I’m just a little frustrated. It has nothing to do with any of you. I’m sorry. Maybe it would be best if I just hung around here. I’ll keep looking for the book.”

  “I’m sorry.” Babbs looked at her.

  “No need to apologize. We’re big girls. We’ll move past it.”

  There was something in the air, something Halloway wasn’t telling us. I could feel it, though I really didn’t know her well enough to understand what that might be. Not just yet, anyway. Or maybe it was me. Perhaps my own frustrations were rubbing off on the group. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was upset and I needed to figure this thing out before I lost my freaking mind!