Miss Spell's Hotel

by Kate Danley

I caught that scrawny little witch halfway across and wrestled her down to the floor in a mess of elbows and teeth and crashing paperweights. I had gravity on my side and outweighed her 2-to1, plus you don't hand wax a hotel full of parquet flooring without building up some arm muscles. Even so, I was lucky she hadn't been able to get to her wand. I would have been toast. Her strength felt otherworldly. I pinned her down on the rug. She managed to grab a fistful of my hair.

  "Ow! OW!" I yelped.

  I didn't have magic to subdue her and I was done with this catfight, so I hauled off and slapped her across the face. "Snap out of it!"

  Her body went limp and the pulling stopped.

  Her eyes returned to their normal color.

  "Oh, my word!" she suddenly said, with a gasp like she was coming up from beneath the water. She pondered me like she was seeing me for the first time. There was a moment of awareness that she was lying on the floor and I was holding her there. Then a flash of confusion and fright. She struggled. "Miss Spell, what are you doing? Help! Help!"

  "Are you kidding me?" I said, releasing my grip from her wrist. "You attacked me."

  She stopped in shock. "I beg your pardon?"

  I searched for any sign that we were not alone. If I had my powers, I would have been able to feel if someone or something was exerting influence on her. But, I was blind. "There is something strange going on."

  "What is happening? Why are you on top of me?"

  I stopped my answer halfway out of my lips.

  If she had been possessed, was someone eavesdropping on her thoughts? Would they know what she knew? Did I risk telling her I was working with a World Walker named William MacKay to free twenty girls from my stained glass? Would I be condemning him?

  "I was here..." I detangled my long tresses from her now limp fingers. "To tell you about a..." My brain searched for a good reason. "A haunted house coming up. That I'm throwing. I'm throwing a haunted house and I wanted to see if I could get special dispensation to work some magic."

  "Oh," she said. She didn't seem convinced. "And that resulted in this ... how?"

  "You were having a seizure," I improvised on the fly. I rolled off and helped her to stand. "Not, like, a medical seizure that might need a doctor. More like..." I paused before I said it. "Have you ever been possessed before?"

  "What? NO!" she said aghast at the suggestion. "I have powerful circles and wards around my office. There is no way anyone could control me!"

  That meant whatever we were dealing with laughed in the face of my sisterhoods' brand of magic, which was more than slightly terrifying. I needed to get out.

  "You seemed like you were going to hurt yourself, so I just tried to do what I could to protect you," I said, gathering my things. "That's what it was. Protecting you. But I should go."

  "Oh. Well. Thank you," she replied. "That was... kind. Perhaps a bit too enthusiastic, but I recognize your spirit of helpfulness." She squinted at me suspiciously. "What was this about a haunted house?"

  "Oh!" I replied, realizing I needed to come up with more details of my lie. "So, yes, a haunted house. You said that I should participate more in our coven, so I wanted to invite everyone over for a party. I was wondering if I could get my powers back." I could see her working up her refusal. I knew what her answer would be, but hoped if I went through all the motions, my visit would be dismissed from her mind as nothing more than our normal clashes. "Temporarily. To decorate."

  "I'm so sorry, Miss Spell," she said with a disappointed sigh. "I'll bring it up with the coven at our next gathering, but there's nothing I can do for you today. They have to vote and then produce the elixir under the next full moon. It is going to be at least another season before we can help you." She sat down at her desk and gripped the edges. She looked like she was still trying to center herself. But suddenly, she leaned forward with alarming clarity to dispense some sage advice. "Why do you hang onto that hotel? It is draining you dry. If I were you, the first person I saw, I would sell to them and wash my hands of the entire business. Come work here. You know that your petition to have your powers restored would go so much more smoothly if you allowed the coven to keep an eye on you." She held up her hand to stop my protest, even before it left my mouth. "Not that you need minding, but just to reassure them it was a singular event and not something you'll make a habit of."

  It was the same drum she beat every time we met. In the past, I thought it was just her petty jealousy and a need to be in control. With everything going on, suddenly it took a much more sinister undertone. Had someone planted this idea in her mind?

  Could I get through to her?

  "I'm in danger," I hissed. "We're all in danger. There is someone coming into my hotel and working bad magic. This person took you over."

  Miss Trudy tutted as she straightened her stack of papers. "Oh, you. You with your jokes."

  "I just tackled you because you attacked me."

  She blinked. "I'm sorry, what did you say just happened?"

  The clock in her office struck the hour and a tiny wooden owl jumped out to say, "Whooo? Whoooo?"

  "You don't remember any of that?" I pointed over to the spot on the floor where we had fought.

  "What? No! What a mess!" she exclaimed, seeing all the papers and quills strewn over the floor. She waved her hand and they all picked themselves up and rearranged themselves neatly on her desk. "What happened?"

  "We—" I started to say, but then she cut me off.

  "Miss Spell, as much as I appreciate you stopping by to say hello, I am very busy. Can't you just say what it is you want?"

  I blinked. It was like our entire fight, our entire conversation had been wiped from her mind. "I want my powers restored."

  "I'll bring it up with the coven at our next gathering, but there's nothing I can do for you today. They have to vote and then produce the elixir under the next full moon. It is going to be at least another season before we can help you."

  "You literally just said that. Word for word."

  "Are you feeling all right?" she asked, leaning forward inquisitively.

  I swallowed, realizing she was under some spell. Whatever it was blocked her from remembering any involvement with me. I backed toward the door. I didn't need magic to sense that things were getting more and more dangerous. "I'm fine. Great to see you, Miss Trudy. I'll be in touch."

  "Sure! Just let me know whatever I can do to help you!" she waved cheerily as I walked to the door and opened the iron handle.

  There was a tall man with chiseled features filing papers in the office. He brushed back his silver and black hair with one hand and gave me a stiff smile. "Everything go as you planned?"

  "No," I replied, not sure if any of us would remember any of this in five minutes. "Are you new here? I don't think I've ever seen you before."

  He inclined his head. There was something calming about him. A sense that he had everything under control. "So few people notice new faces. It is nice to be noted."

  "Of course!" I said. I couldn't reach down to itch my ankle, so I just used the toe of my pointed shoes to scratch at it beneath my skirts. "It is unusual for our coven to hire male workers. Are you someone's nephew?"

  "Just an admirer of the practical arts." His smile seemed softer now, more welcoming.

  "Have you been here long?" I asked, realizing I shouldn't be so quick to judge people or situations.

  "Oh, long enough." He pulled a card out of his jacket. "Call if there is ever anything I can do to be of aid. It gets so tedious filing spells and reporting on magic misuse. I always need a good distraction."

  "Well, I might have plenty for you in the future," I laughed, feeling strangely giddy.

  "I hope not."

  "Just a little bump in the road that needs to be addressed." I took the card. "A pleasure meeting you!"

  "And you!" he said as he swiftly left the room with an armful of papers.

  I watched him go. A warm sense of well-being fell upon me as I observed his card, a sense th
at all was right with the world. I brushed my fingers across his name and it ignited in my hand. All I could think was how pretty the flames looked.

  Miss Trudy opened her door. "Did you see my assistant?"

  "Who?" I asked.

  "New fellow. Just an ordinary bloke interested in the practical arts."

  "No," I replied. I wondered why I was here. Had I already spoken to Miss Trudy? "Haven't seen anyone."

  "Must have gone out to lunch," she replied. "Oh, and there's so much to do! You'll show yourself out?"

  So, I was leaving. I was glad she knew what was going on. "Yes, I was just on my way," I replied as she went into her office. I heard the door lock behind her.

  I started walking toward the door when a flash caught my attention from the corner of my eye. I bent down.

  It was a small blue stone almost hidden by a chair leg, obviously something that had fallen out of someone's bag while they had been in the waiting room.

  I wondered if I should go in and hand it to Miss Trudy. It was a shame the coven hadn't hired anyone to work as an admin yet to handle situations like this. Miss Trudy was so busy, I put the stone into my pocket. The warm haze descended again as I walked out of the coven's front door.

  As I walked down the street, there was a newspaper that blew up against my throbbing ankle. I reached down to remove it, but the story on the front cover caused me to stop.

  "Oh no," I said.

  The healer who had healed my ankle and given me the glasses had been killed in her home.

  We, of course, live on the Other Side and these types of things were far too frequent. When everyone is armed to the teeth with teeth and arms, conflicts tend to escalate to a deadly scale with those who have scales far too often.

  Still.

  Her glasses had been the first little bit of magic I had touched in so long, I felt a pang of sadness for the woman who had extended such kindness to me.

  And then, as I released the paper, I forgot I ever knew her.

  Chapter Fifteen

  "Everything go all right?" Ajax asked as I walked into the No Spell. He was running a dust cloth over the long, check-in counter, getting in all the nooks and carved crannies.

  I wish I could remember more of what had happened at the coven.

  I was feeling a little dizzy. Perhaps I had forgotten to eat again, although as I ran my hands over my hips, their expanding size would suggest a lack of food wasn't a problem. I didn't want to trouble Ajax, however. He would likely go bake me one of his ash cookies with coal chips. In fact, the whole afternoon seemed like something I shouldn't mention to him. No need to cause worry. "About as good as can be expected."

  "About what I thought," Ajax grumped.

  I leaned against the counter and traced one of the black veins running through the marble top. "Ajax, has anyone ever figured out why the dwarves are so inured to magic?"

  "Comes from living under the ground," he said, pounding his chest mightily. "The iron and silver and salt gets into our skin, soaks into our pores. It's like armor."

  It made sense. I regarded my dainty hands, hands that had not held an iron cauldron in ages. Any natural protections I had absorbed were gone. Perhaps that's what I needed in order to protect Ajax and myself from whatever was attacking us. I would have to rebuild my magical immunity from scratch, but if I started now, perhaps eventually I would get it back.

  "I'm going to be busy this afternoon," I stated.

  "Well, since we canceled all of our guests," said Ajax, waving his dust cloth at our empty hall. "I think I can manage."

  "Let me know if that changes."

  "Where are you going?"

  "Upstairs. I need to do some research."

  "On what?"

  I teetered as I strode over to the sweeping staircase, but played it off by grabbing onto the Newel post and pronouncing, "How to kill this person who has been putting the whammy on us."

  Ajax tapped the bell on the counter. "Now you're talking my language."

  I went up the winding four-flights of stairs to my bedroom in the tower. I started feeling better, even my ankle. Perhaps there was a swamp gas leak or something causing the air to be funny on the ground level.

  I opened the door to my room. The burgundy damask duvet was exactly as I left it with the few trick folds I had incorporated still intact, so at least I knew John Doe hadn't snuck in while I forgot. The lead-paned window was still locked and closed. That was another plus. The coal in my small fireplace was still banked for later use. My rocking chair still sat in the indentations of my high-pile, floral rug. I walked over to my walnut wardrobe and threw open the doors. Nothing there but my rows of red dresses, all hanging in the order of what time best to change into them – from morning duties to midnight balls. And one black robe that I stopped wearing the day I was censured by my sisterhood.

  I turned to consider a door at the far end of my room, another thing I had been barred from. It was thick and wooden and bound by iron. It had been bolted when my magic had been taken away from me, a reminder every time I woke up that I was not allowed that part of me.

  "But what if someone has broken into you, my dear ritual room, and is using my own tools against me?" I asked. "I should make sure that is not the case."

  I sauntered over, as if fearful Miss Trudy would come barging through the door. I lowered myself and squinted at the lock. I reached out to touch it and received a shock so bad it knocked me off my feet.

  It was meant to deter witches like me. Unfortunately for the lock, it just made me mad.

  "Now, how does one get around you when you're so hell-bent on no one getting around you?"

  Magic is not immutable. The rules were not the same for everyone. Shoot, Ajax could have magic fired at him nonstop and brush it off like mosquitoes – annoying, but not destroying.

  I was who I was. I was a witch.

  But could I be something else?

  Could I commit some sort of alchemy to my soul so I could work magic like a dwarf or an elf or a World Walker or something else that was not bothered by spells put on locks in one's own bedroom?

  I walked over to my window, opened it, and peered out. I knew there was a window to my ritual room just around the curve of the wall, but I couldn't see it. The drop from my tower was fifty feet to the ground with no ledge for me to get a toehold. Darn the original builder for good defense from invasion.

  What I needed was to be able to fly.

  And there was only one thing that could help a witch with that.

  I knew it was going to cost me, and because of my desperation, cost me dearly.

  But this was a case of survival.

  I walked over to my jewelry chest and opened the lid. Lying inside was a dark ruby. I hated the thought of pawning it. It had been a touchstone for so many of my spells, a way to focus the energy, a gift from my first lover.

  But the past was in the past.

  And I needed to leave it behind and take some serious steps if I hoped to see the future.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next morning, I made myself some breakfast and met Ajax in the dining room. He was sitting at the long table, sipping tea from his bone china cup, and chewing on some blackened toast.

  "Did you sleep well?" I asked him as I sat down. I had picked my darkest red gown for the day. The skirt was a little tight, so I perched on the edge of the chair.

  He merely grunted.

  "Another quiet day?" I asked.

  "I did not cancel our guests tonight," he told me, setting down his cup like a challenge.

  I wet my lips. "Do you think that is wise?"

  "We do not have the income to meet our outcome. And while that World Walker—"

  "William."

  "—William seems like a nice young man, he's not going to fix our problem anytime soon. So, we need guests. We need guests and we need to hire a witch with powers. I chased a goblin out of the garden this morning, but there is no telling when he'll be back with his friends. We can't get
goblins again, Miss Spell. We have no gargoyles to chase them away! If it gets out that we brought the exterminator here for goblins..."

  I took a deep breath and nodded in sad agreement. Ajax was absolutely right. We were on borrowed time as it was. Oh for a vacationing pair of gargoyles on the roof of the No Spell, gargoyles wanting nothing more than to chase away our evil guests for fun!

  "I will be back to take over for you this evening," I told him.

  He gave a harrumph of approval, then picked up a newspaper and started reading it.

  "I may... I may have a plan for how to get some magic..." I continued, nervously.

  He didn't even put down the paper as he spoke. "I don't want to hear about why or how, because if you went to your coven and they denied you, you are up to something I should not have any knowledge of in case it can be used against you in a court of law."

  "Fair enough," I replied, gulping down my food.

  Ajax got up and cleared my plate. Though his words were harsh, there was a kindness in his eyes. "Don't get yourself killed, right?"

  "Right."

  I headed out the door, wanting to make sure I finished my errand while the double suns were highest in the sky. I walked down to Main Street, a narrow, cobblestone road that was straight out of a Charles Dickens book. There were women in Victorian garb and bonnets, men wearing top hats and cravats. There were also possessed Jack the Ripper wannabes roaming these streets and a nasty fog that would put you down faster than any silver knife.

  I turned the corner into a shadowy alley. This was where black magic was bought and sold. Fallen angels leaned against the stained brick walls

  "Take you to heaven, love?" a shirtless winged wonder shouted at me.

  "In your prayers!" I called back with a wink, trying to display a swagger that made it seem like I belonged here.

  I never thought I'd dabble in this side of magic. It just wasn't what a witch like me would do. But the natural ways were barred to me. It was survival, I had to keep reminding myself.

  I tried to pick the least terrifying pawnshop on the street. Its windows were crammed with ancient books and bones, but at least they didn't feature fangs and sacrificial knives like some of the other places.