by Kate Danley
I turned the handle toward the window of my ritual room. The panes were filthy and the room inside was dark. I felt along the edges, ignoring the strong, but not unbearable, zaps. Those who sealed up my workshop had done it from the inside. The outside was starting to show some weakness from the elements. I pulled out a plastic knife a friend had stolen from a café the last time she was on Earth. To think that the people there thought these utensils were disposable... They conducted nothing and were the perfect insulator for a job like this. I shoved the knife through the crack and lifted the latch.
The broom bucked beneath me. "Steady, ol' Broomie," I whispered as I continued to work.
I crammed my fingers into the space between the ledge and the panes, and pulled the windows open. They opened with a "pop" as the magical seal snapped.
I leaned forward and the broom took me inside, dumping me on the ground as its power ran down. It jerked itself upright to prove it wasn't out of the fight, but I could see it was going to need a recharge soon.
"Good ol' Broomie," I praised as I picked myself up. Everything was just as I left it. Sure, it was a little dustier and could use a good cleaning, but now that I had some magic back, that wouldn't be such a problem. I walked around the room, running my hands over the old bottles holding the herbs and potions I had collected since I was a student. Every yellowed, handwritten label brought back a memory.
And, oh! My cauldron hanging over the empty hearth! There was a spider web across the top and a few spots threatening to rust, but I could have kissed it. How had I let those people take this away from me? How had I allowed myself to be a victim of their rules?
I flung my arms around it like greeting an old friend, the cast iron cold against my skin. I felt the broom sweep up next to me and lean its long handle against my side to get in on the group hug.
"We're never going to let people do this to us again," I promised, planting a little kiss on the tip of the broom. "Never again, my pretties."
Chapter Nineteen
I wiggled my fingers and the cloth swept down the hall, wiping the baseboards clean. I waved my hand and my trusty broom began sweeping the marble floor. The dust cloth returned to me, and with a snap of my fingers, the grime disappeared completely.
It had been a week. I tried to be surreptitious. Just a little magic here and a little there. I kept waiting for my coven to storm down my door and lock me up. But, they hadn't. There was a thrill that I was getting away with it. I became a little bolder each time. It was a slippery slope, but one I wanted to slide down. It felt so good to do magic, I thought I might break out in a song like some sort of fairytale princess.
A familiar cackle came from overhead.
A wicked smile crossed my face as I saw the sharp elbows and bug eyes of the goblins.
They had returned.
I, however, had a little bon voyage gift I had been wanting to give them for a long time.
I stretched out my hand and blue lightning flew from my fingertips.
Their purple bodies jolted as I lit them up.
"Get away! Get away!" cried the goblins as the electricity zapped them. I hit them again and reveled in the sight of their smoldering, singed fur. Screeching, they tore out the windows and doors. One's foot was on fire, which I felt was poetic justice.
"And stay out!" I shouted, straightening my blouse with a pleased huff of pride.
"Now, where did you get the kind of magic that could clear out that lot?" asked Ajax, arms folded as he stared at me.
My mouth dried slightly as I realized the moment of truth had arrived. "Oh, this old thing?" I asked, twirling the dust cloth. "Just a little something I picked up at a rummage sale."
"And the blue electricity from your fingertips? And that broom that's clearing out the cobwebs as we speak?"
I glanced over. The broom was battling it out in a corner with a spider who didn't want to be evicted.
Ajax pointed at it, just to make sure I was clear about which broom we were talking about. "The one that magically appeared the night you beheaded the zombies? The broom you said you were going to return to the coven?"
"Yes...?" I replied.
"What are you up to, Elle?"
I bent down and grabbed Ajax's thick hand. I guided him to a pair of armchairs flanking an empty suit of armor. The helmet swiveled to each of us in greeting.
"They haven't done that since your powers were taken away!" Ajax stated accusingly.
The armor gave a shrug.
"Don't you give him more fodder to be mad at me!" I scolded. I took a deep breath and confided in Ajax, "I've got it."
"You've got what?"
"I got it back!"
"What?"
"My magic!"
He seemed shocked, but happy for me. You know, as happy as a dwarf can be. "How? Did the coven reverse their ruling?"
I swallowed nervously. "You know I would never do anything to hurt anyone..."
"Oh no... don't tell me..." He whispered, horrified that he even had to suggest it. "You're not doing dark magic?"
"NO! No..." I paused. "Well, not exactly."
His face paled and then twisted in resolution, ready to put his foot down if it meant saving me from myself. "That's how it always starts. People always talk about only sacrificing thieves and crooks and vigilante justice and pretty soon you're running a nursing home on Earth where all the elderly residents are mysteriously disappearing."
"I would never do that, Ajax!"
"Then explain to me exactly what you're doing."
"I found this," I said, pulling the small stone out of my pocket. I could see Ajax's eyes grow covetous. There's nothing a dwarf loves as much as treasure. It's the reason hundreds of generations of dwarves decided it was worth living in the bowels of the earth.
"What is it?" he asked. His fingers practically itched to hold it.
"That night I killed the zombies?"
"Yes?"
"Their... remains... activated this stone and it restored my powers."
"All the power..." Ajax shifted nervously. "May I... may I examine the stone? Just... hold it for a moment."
I should have known better than to have shown it to him. But he is my partner and who are we if we cannot trust the people in our lives. I handed it over.
"Welcome to the No Spell," he said as he stroked it lovingly.
Suddenly, the broom dropped to the ground, still and lifeless. The spider lifted his front legs in victory and did a happy dance. I snatched the gem out of Ajax's hand. All the magic was gone. It was nothing but a lump of stone.
"Oh no! What did you do!" I exclaimed, rubbing it as if I could somehow bring it back to life.
"What?"
"All the magic is gone."
Ajax looked at his hands and then apologized, embarrassed. "Dwarf. We neutralize magic."
"Oh..." I replied, realizing that I couldn't be mad. Of course the stone failed. His whole being evolved for millennia to be like a metal spike discharging static electricity. "Dwarf."
"We need more dead monsters," mused Ajax. "You have any laying around?"
"Unfortunately, not. I was down to the last of my supply. But the night is still young!" I cheered. It was such a huge relief to have Ajax taking all this news in stride. I headed towards the front door. "I'll put on my dancing shoes and see if I can boogie down to a happening crime scene where I can recharge with a little biological waste no one will be sad to see go."
"Wait!" Ajax called. He held out his open palm. "Give me the gem!"
"Really, Ajax—" I started to say.
He shook his head, trying to assure me. "I'm not adding it to my hoard. I have an idea. Plus, you never know what you might run into out there."
I walked back over and gently placed it in his hand. I wrapped his fingers around it. "Be very careful."
"I promise it'll come back to you even better than new."
I gave him a kiss on the top of his head; took a quick detour to grab my bag and a few empty vials from my office; tucked them
in various, easy to reach spots on myself; and then headed off into the night. It was moonless and dark, perfect for the Other Side's most ruthless hunters to be on the prowl. I shivered with the anticipation of recharging my magic. I didn't have to go far.
On Main Street, the flashing lights of the Other Side's finest lit up the street with flashes of green and purple. Witches and monsters in Victorian garb were gathered around, whispering in horror to one another.
I pulled my glasses that were supposed to be able to spot dead and undead monsters from my satchel, and I walked up to the crime scene.
"What happened here?" I asked, pushing the cats-eye frames up my nose.
"Vampire turf war," said the officer, filling out his form. He shook both his heads. "Have to see if he had a permit to hunt or if it was out of bounds. These nests are getting out of control."
"Well, keep up the good work," I said, flashing my most innocuous smile.
One of the heads gave me a nod while the other's attention remained glued to the paperwork.
I kept walking, keeping my eyes on the ground. I caught a flash of a glowing silver liquid between the cobblestones and knew I had found what I was looking for. These glasses were a goddess-send. I wish I could remember where I got them.
I knelt down as if I was tying my boot, but slipped the vial out of the top of my shoe. While the officer was answering questions, I dipped the vial into the cracks between the cobblestones and filled it.
"What are you doing?"
I suddenly turned. There was a young kid, relatively speaking in witch years. She seemed twenty or thirty years old, which is around fourteen or fifteen in human years; black, natural hair about an inch long all around; thick-rimmed glasses. She wore a blue sweater and plaid uniform I recognized from my old alma mater. Her brown knees rebelliously peeked out of the space between her skirt and long, navy blue socks, which would have sent the spellmistress into conniptions back in my day. If she went to my school, that meant she was a witch. I wondered how much power I was dealing with here.
"Just... gathering evidence," I said, trying to act as if this was perfectly normal.
"Oh. You work with the police?"
She was an inquisitive one.
"In a nonofficial capacity," I replied, wanting to wrap up this conversation before the law noticed what I was doing and started asking why I was taking vampire samples.
"You are the owner of the No Spell, right?" she asked.
I marked her sharply. "And how does a sweet young thing like you know something like that? Have you stayed with us?"
"Two zombies were sent to attack you a week ago."
I stood up. She had my full attention now. "They were sent to attack me...?"
"They were my teachers." She took a deep breath. "You killed my teachers."
I waited for the angry words, I waited for her to call over the cops and report me.
Instead, she said, "I need your help to catch the people who did that to them."
Chapter Twenty
We walked silently to the No Spell. Not a single word was uttered. With everything going down with John Doe and the glass girls and now a zombie conspiracy some random schoolkid knew about, I was not about to hold a conversation in the middle of Main Street. She opened her mouth a few times to speak, but I held my finger to my lips to shush her. The walls had ears. Sometimes quite literally.
I opened the front door and walked into the hallway. She was able to cross the threshold without an invitation, which was a good sign.
Ajax looked up from behind the counter, but I shook my head. Guests would have checked in and I didn't want anyone eavesdropping. He gave me a nod as I guided the girl into my office. I motioned to a wingback chair by the fire, and then shut and locked the door behind me.
I felt like I could finally breathe. "I'm Miss Elle Spell. And you are?"
"Precious," she said. "Precious Hamilton."
Ajax still had my stone, so I couldn't activate my magic and offer her an instant cup of tea. Instead, I did it the old-fashioned way. I stoked the coals in the fire grate and heated up the kettle of water.
"Apologies for all that silent treatment," I said. "It's just that some very strange things have been happening and I'm getting more and more paranoid. Now... what was this about your teachers being zombies?" I asked.
She seemed so strong and in control there on the street, but in the candlelight, she seemed so small and terrified. "My teachers were witches. Well, half witches. That's why they taught. They were the best witches I ever knew, though. So, they were talking about getting away for their anniversary and stuff. But then..."
"Then, what?" I asked as I put a few teaspoons of leaves into the pot.
"It gets a little fuzzy," she said. Her brow furrowed. "It's like, I can remember that I forgot something. But I don't exactly remember what I forgot."
I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
"That's been happening to a lot of us," I said, thinking about all gaps in my memory and the resulting women in the stained glass. "Only some of us aren't even lucky enough to remember we can't remember."
"I'm half-witch myself," she confessed. "I think it makes it so the spell can only take half hold."
Half witch meant half power, but you were also immune to some of the issues that hit the magical community, namely warlock madness and evil witch syndrome. Apparently, you also had some sort of natural protection against this magical memory loss. I sat down as I waited for the tea to steep. "Fascinating. This is good information. Go on."
"So they disappeared from school and no one knew why or where they went, so then I went down to the police station and learned they had been killed due to being turned into zombies. And I found out it happened here and... well... you...."
"I did," I admitted, apologetically. "It was self-defense. They attacked me in the hall."
"They weren't the sorts of people to just go wandering around zombie fields," she tried to explain, urgency filling her voice. "They knew better. But then, when I was reading the report, I saw that we had a zombie attack at school. No one in my class remembers it. I was there. I even signed off as a witness. It happened two days before they came here, so they would have come down with the virus after they arrived. And no one, not one person remembers it happening." She took a deep breath, brave girl. I could see she was scared I was going to tell her she was wrong. "I think our memory has been wiped. I think there's something going on, something big, and there was a reason why those zombies bit my teachers before they came here. It's not right. And whoever did it? I want to make sure they are arrested and go to jail and never do this to anyone ever again."
"You and me both."
"The thing is, I think I could figure out what was going on but—" She held out her hands.
"But what?"
She seemed defeated. "All my magic stuff is at school. The lab, the ingredients. But if someone came in and did a whole zombie attack and made us all forget about it, I don't know what's safe."
I got up and poured the tea for us, buying myself a little time. I brought it back over. "If you had access to those sorts of supplies, what would you do with them?"
"I do a lot of spells. I'm not supposed to be good because I'm only a half witch, but I am. And I think I could create a spell for restoring my memory," she said as she took the cup.
I was impressed. It was one of those spells I learned in advanced spell class, but you use it or you lose it. And evidently, I didn't learn the spell well enough to remember.
I regarded her for a moment. My own coven had turned its back on this problem, I barely knew what was going on, but this tough little kid had already figured out all this so far. Maybe we could form our own resistance force. As protective as I felt about my workshop, it might actually be of more use to her than me.
"If you're worried about supplies being tainted, that's one area I can help with. Follow me," I said, hooking my finger her direction. "Bring your tea. I think I might have what you
need."
We walked up the four flights and I opened the door to my room. She followed as I led her to my ritual room. I lit a few candles and set the vial of vampire blood on my worktable.
Precious's eyes got huge. "I thought this was a 'no spell' hotel." She was in awe of all the potions on my shelves. "You have some really nice herbs here."
I sighed, remembering how it used to be. "I always invested in the best. As my mama always said, if magic was a cake, it would only be as good as your ingredients."
"Some of these are very well aged," she remarked, placing her fingers on the labels. I liked the way she examined them with a discerning eye. Some people enjoyed discussing the sensory experience of wine or the finer points of griffin racing. I appreciated a witch who knew her sage leaves and potion fermentations.
"I inherited some. And I haven't had a chance to use them. I have... well, I have not been allowed to practice for a bit."
"Why?" she asked with curiosity.
"There was a vampire who attacked me. I defended myself, but my coven felt I was out of bounds."
She shook her head at the injustice. "Bunch of bats..."
"For another four months at least," I replied. I paused for a moment and then made a decision. "But... I found a way to use the undead to create magic."
I touched the vials of silver blood.
I was expecting Precious to recoil, but instead, she leaned forward with interest. "You mean, all these monsters that have been terrorizing us here on the Other Side, you can actually use them to make yourself get stronger?"
I tapped the cork. "Unfortunately, only as long as this lasts."
Precious picked up the container and regarded it. "If I figured out a way to get monsters into the No Spell... would that help you?"
I thought about how quickly I would go through it. I went through the energy of two zombie corpses in one week. Of course, I had been a bit extravagant, making up for lost time and all, but still. Having to go stumbling around, hoping to find a zombie before it decayed or a vampire before it turned to dust was going to get really old, really quick. "I suppose it would," I said.