“I’ve never done anything like this,” Laura protested, waving her hand at the Chinese dragon head that undulated past.
“You killed my vegetable patch with that sunny weather spell,” said Alice, who Seren recognized as one of her mother’s oldest, and dearest, friends. “It took years to cultivate.”
“I was trying to help.”
Matthew stepped forward next. “My cat was never the same after you turned her into a frog.”
“I did say I was sorry!”
“She still makes ‘ribbet, ribbet’ noises,” sniffed Matthew. “She used to have a beautiful meow.”
One by one, each culprit stepped forward and Seren cringed as they each told their stories of Laura’s inept spell casting. It was a catalogue of disasters: go away spells that turned a home into an open house, love potions that wound up in the wrong people, good luck charms that gave everyone surrounding the bearer bad luck.
“I’m sorry, truly I am,” said Laura at last, her shoulders slumping in shame.
“We know you are, darling.” Byron was utterly sincere and his conspirators nodded. “But spells aren’t a bit of fun to dabble in. Just because it isn’t born blood magic like yours, doesn’t mean it isn’t serious and every bit as dangerous.”
“We just want you to stop,” added Aunt Emily. “Please, Laura. No more spells.”
“No more spells,” echoed the others and finally, Laura, defeated, nodded.
Byron waved a hand at the smoke and it rushed together, forming the shape of a tall man who gave a regal bow before beginning to dissolve. As the last wisp disappeared, the windows opened, cell phones started to trill and the table quickly cleaned itself, all the ingredients shooting back to their correct bottles and packets. Within moments there wasn’t a trace of Laura’s big problem. From the kitchen, the tea kettle started to whistle and Laura busied herself organising refreshments for her decreasingly-cross guests.
“I don’t think your mother will be meddling for some time,” murmured Byron in Seren’s ear.
“Will you put your money where your mouth is?”
“Ah, no.” Byron laughed.
“Seriously, Dad, don’t do that again. If David hadn’t worked out what to do we might have been stuck with that…thing for days.” Seren knew she should have been suspicious the moment her father had stepped through the door, thoroughly unperturbed by her mom’s magical calamity. She thought for a moment, an unpleasant idea niggling in her mind, then asked, “That was as bad as it was going to get, right?”
Byron stroked his beard, studiously ignored Seren’s question, and replied, “It was set to expire in twenty-four hours, and it would never have been triggered if your mother hadn’t decided to cast a spell.”
“All the same, perhaps a note next time?” Seren didn’t want to imagine what the spell was set to have done next. She’d happily place a bet on her mother having a rather horrid few hours if they hadn’t solved it.
“Fine. Good to have you here, kiddo. You’re my only child who wouldn’t have blown the house up in exasperation. If your mother didn’t get there first.”
Seren pulled a face. Unfortunately, given the Winterstorms’ temperaments, he was probably right.
*
Seren looked up as David sank into the seat beside her and placed a tall, frosty glass on the table in front of her. “Mojito?” he grinned.
“At last, and long overdue.” She picked up the glass, the ice cubes sending a shiver shooting through her arm to her spine, and took a long swallow. “You know, I enjoyed solving this mystery. Seems like we have a knack for it.” Only a few days ago at their friend Stella’s house they had helped solve a major problem and Seren was feeling pretty satisfied with herself.
David seemed to pluck the thought right from her head. “We didn’t exactly solve that mystery.”
“We were part of the solution,” Seren countered brightly. “You know, now that I don’t have to work for the witches’ council anymore, I’m looking for a new job, and you don’t have a job either.”
“We’re such slackers.”
“Hah. As if.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying let’s open our own investigations agency. With my magic, and yours, we could help a lot of people. Not just in the magic community, but regular people who need a witch on their side, especially if they get on the wrong side of a spell like this one.”
“I always wanted to open a shop. Magical supplies and things like that. Do you know how hard it is to buy wolfsbane? The air miles on my last package of rare herbs was shocking.”
“We could do both.”
“What would we call it?”
“Winterstorm and Langstrom?”
“Bit of a mouthful.”
“So you’re in?”
“If you come up with a better name, I’m in.”
Seren grinned. She’d known David would say yes, even before he did.
The End
About Camilla Chafer
Camilla Chafer is the author of the Stella Mayweather paranormal mystery series, a transatlantic adventure featuring a young British woman, Stella, on the run from terrifying witch hunters. Witches Seren Winterstorm and David Langstrom are minor characters who often come to Stella’s aid and the events of this short story takes place between book two and book three.
Illicit Magic (book one) and Unruly Magic (book two) are available from all e-retailers now. Devious Magic (book three) is due out December 2011.
You can find out more about the author and the Stella Mayweather series online at www.camillachafer.com and chat with the author on Facebook or Twitter @camillawrites.
THE HAZARDS OF DESIRE
by
Wren Emerson
There is an isolated town called Desire not too far from several major cities. If you were to take a Sunday drive down the forested highways leading to it and then into the town proper itself, you wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, although you would likely note that the houses are amazingly well kept, the lawns lush and flowers in bloom for months after they’d normally wither and die, and that the women are unusually tense with each other. Unless you had some reason to know otherwise, you’d never guess that the town is populated entirely by witches with varying levels of Talent. It would suddenly make sense to you why the women are so cagey around each other, once you realized that only the women are able to exhibit overt powers and that the men of the town are little more than bargaining chips. If you realized that there is a complicated structure of leadership based on birth order and Talent, then you might understand the reason that everyone in town avoided Crazy Zelda.
Zelda Mayfield was a First Daughter of exceptional power in her youth. Her family had been in the Coven for generations and she took her place as expected, but while she was still young something happened. Nobody outside of the Coven was sure what prompted the frenzy, but without warning her powers were nullified and she was stripped of her title. Without a First Daughter experienced enough to take over, her Family was shut out of the Coven. Her children left Desire in shame to live the sort of lives that were usually reserved for Second Daughters.
Zelda stayed. Maybe it was because she couldn’t accept what she’d become. Maybe she just didn’t have anywhere else to go. Nobody really knew what her motivation was because nobody ever talked to her. From the day she was expelled from the Coven, Zelda was treated like a pariah. She lived alone in her rambling house on the outskirts of town, and while nobody went so far as to deny her goods or services necessary to her survival, the rest of the time she was treated like she had ceased to exist.
She’d taken to sitting alone on a shaded bench in the town square. She didn’t even bring food for the birds like some people did. She just sat alone, staring blankly into space, for hours. As years passed and she grew older, younger generations took to calling her Crazy Zelda and would mock her without knowing anything about her. Gemma Phillips and her friends were no different.
&
nbsp; Gemma was a pretty eighteen-year-old girl. Her hair was thick and golden and on that particular Saturday afternoon she was wearing it in a single long braid down her back. She wore a vintage dress she’d bought from an online boutique. She was a Second Daughter like her friends, but unlike some who looked forward to futures outside of Desire, Gemma hoped to find a place for herself in the town. She couldn’t imagine leaving a world where she could openly use her power without fear, and besides, her boyfriend was a catch. He came from a good Family with a serious shot at a place in the Coven. She knew that in reality he was probably above her humble station and with his dark good looks and amazing body, he could probably have almost any First Daughter he wanted. She’d be a fool to give that up.
Gemma and her friends were goofing off in the square. They’d picked up a pizza from the only place in town that sold them and were sitting on the grass eating and talking about their plans after graduation. Delia Huntington was the most enthusiastic about leaving Desire and going to a college in the outside world and she was going on about it now. Gemma was annoyed to hear that all of her friends were not only talking about leaving, but seemed happy to do so.
“You guys suck. I just want you to know that,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Why are you so stuck on staying here? There’s nothing here for Second Daughters,” Delia pointed out.
“Will is here,” Gemma said, naming her boyfriend.
Now Delia rolled her own eyes. “You guys are kids. What happens when you break up? Then you’re stuck here with no future.”
Gemma jutted out her chin defiantly. “We’re not going to break up. I know it might sound unbelievable to you guys, but we’re in love. We’ve already talked about getting married.”
“Seriously? That’s a terrible idea. You guys are going to break up in a year or two tops and you’re going to end up sitting on the park bench next to Crazy Zelda.”
Gemma glanced at Zelda, who was sitting and staring at nothing like she always did. “Okay, one, Will and I won’t break up, and two, I’m sure that it wasn’t a break up that drove her over the edge, anyway.”
Delia took a bite of her pizza and shrugged. “So why don’t you go ask her what did it? What kind of trauma turned her into a permanent fixture on that bench?”
“You think I’m scared to talk to her? Because I’m not.”
“So do it. Go sit next to her for the next thirty minutes. But you have to talk to her. You can’t just sit there and ignore her.”
Gemma stared open-mouthed at Delia. “You’re kidding, right? What am I supposed to say to her for half an hour?”
“Ask her why she’s a nut job.” Delia gave Gemma a shove towards Zelda. “Scoot!”
If it had just been Gemma and Delia, Gemma would have blown off the challenge, but with all their friends watching her expectantly, Gemma felt compelled to go through with it. She crossed the square and perched on the edge of Zelda’s bench. When the ancient woman didn’t acknowledge her, Gemma spoke up hesitantly. “So, um, hi.”
“How old are you, girl?” Zelda asked without preamble, not even glancing at Gemma.
Startled, Gemma answered, “I’m eighteen.”
“I suppose you think you know all about love. Isn’t that right?”
Gemma gave Delia a shrewd look. Delia must have talked to Zelda at some point, either to get her on board with some joke Delia had in mind or else just long enough to know that Zelda was a broken record. Either way, Gemma decided she’d play along. Besides, she loved talking about Will.
“I have a boyfriend and we’ve been dating for a year now. We’re going to get married.”
Zelda nodded to herself before she said, “Love, real lasting love, is scarce enough in the outside world, but in Desire it is nearly non-existent. Almost every relationship is based on producing the strongest possible First Daughter. Even if a man and a woman were to find real love in this town, their Families wouldn’t hesitate to break them up if a better match came along.”
Gemma shook her head, defiant. “Will and I wouldn’t let that happen to us.”
Zelda chuckled. “I think that every woman who’s ever fallen in love in Desire has probably thought that her love was different. I know Octavia Penny thought so.”
“Who’s Octavia Penny?”
“She was a friend of my mother’s. My mother said that when Willard Penny proposed to Octavia, hearts all over town broke.
“Octavia was a stunning woman. She came from a Coven Family and was next in line for the title. Her power was flight. She could soar just like a bird. It was a different time then. There weren’t restrictions on her power the way there would be today. When she was in a good mood, she’d grab one of us kids in her arms and fly us up six or ten feet above the ground. She was always so careful not to go too high for fear she might drop us and cause us harm.
“That woman was sweet as sugar. She was just as kind to a Second Daughter as a First Daughter and everybody in town just adored her. That’s what made what happened next so awful.
“One day she was at a garden club meeting when she realized that she’d forgotten something. Well, it was easy enough for her to go home and get it. She could fly faster than a car can drive these days and she seemed to have heightened reflexes because I never knew her to run into anything no matter how fast she buzzed along.
“She was nearly home when she cruised through the Joe and Martha Smith’s backyard. They lived just a couple of blocks away from her and Willard and the four often got together to play cards.
“Joe and Martha had a covered balcony on the second floor and they’d taken the trouble to set up an elaborate waist-high wall for privacy. Oh, the neighbors gossiped about that, alright. What did they have to hide? Martha was barely tolerated as it was. Her Mother died when Martha was young and then her sister, the new Mother of the Family, was killed tragically a few years later. She died childless and Martha became the new Mother of her Family by default, but nobody ever forgot where she came from. Octavia was the only decent society woman who’d talk to Martha willingly.
“The privacy wall on the balcony might have worked to keep prying eyes from the ground out of their business, but it did nothing to hide Octavia’s view from where she flew above it. In fact, she told my mother that although she tried so very hard to resist, she always ended up peeping as she flew past, hoping to see what Martha and Joe were up to behind their wall. Imagine her surprise when she saw that the couple furiously making love on an overstuffed wicker lounge wasn’t Joe and Martha, but Martha and her own husband, Willard!
“Nobody knows what was going through her head when she did what she did next, but my best guess is that she felt more betrayed than she’d ever felt in her life. There was her beloved husband of twenty-five years bending Martha over a chair, and she had to live with the knowledge that she’d spent countless nights sitting across from this very woman playing rummy and bridge.
“Whatever it was that she was thinking, the end result is undeniable. She swooped down to the porch and interrupted the lovers. There was a lot of dispute about whether she pushed Martha or if Martha fell over the wall in the confusion of the moment. She landed on a garden stake that pierced her heart and killed her immediately.
“Octavia then grabbed Willard in her arms the way she’d always done with the children. This time, however, she flew higher than ever before. She flew up over the houses and treetops. By now people had heard the commotion so there were several neighbors who were willing to tell their version later.
“According to the witnesses, Octavia flew them higher than anyone had ever seen her fly on her own before. She flew them until they were specks in the sky. But she never left the air space above the Smith yard. She just flew them straight into the sky.
“There wasn’t much of an investigation after the fact, you understand, so nobody was ever sure what happened next. Some people speculated that she was just exhausted and that she never meant to kill Willard. Others claimed that killing Willa
rd is all that she meant to do and that she must have had a stroke from the exertion of flying a flailing naked man so high into the air.
“When Octavia and Willard crashed back to earth, he was screaming until impact, but Octavia never made a peep. When they landed they made quite a mess from what I understand, but her arms were still locked tightly around the man she’d loved so much for so many years.”
Gemma was horrified. “That’s an awful story.”
“Love and Desire just don’t mix. A woman can be the biggest ball of twisted emotions and hurt feelings and that’s bad enough, but mix in the ability to lift a truck with her mind or set something on fire by snapping her fingers and suddenly the most trivial disagreements can be life threatening. Take Missy Preston, for example. She was in my class and not any different than any of us other girls all through school. She wasn’t any sillier than any other nineteen-year-old girl then or since.
“Missy’s problem was that she was in love with a boy who wasn’t right for her. Oh, Rhys came from a good enough Family and he was just as handsome as any other boy from Desire ever is. He was even moderately charming and passably intelligent. He just wasn’t a one woman man and Missy wouldn’t have ever been content to settle for that kind of relationship. She was a girl who needed all or nothing.
“Rhys had been on at least one date with nearly every girl in our class, First Daughter or not. I went steady with Chester Doonsbury for most of high school, or I’m sure I would have been just another notch on his bedpost like so many other girls. I don’t know the details of what passed between Missy and Rhys, but a girl generally doesn’t get that worked up over a few chaste kisses on the cheek. I suspect that she and Rhys were intimate with each other and that it meant more to her than to him.
“Missy was a shapeshifter. She could change into just about anything living, I think. When she did you couldn’t tell the difference. You’d swear she was your favorite pet until she’d shift back, laughing. It was easy for her and didn’t seem to take any excessive energy for her to do one of her changes. They were quick and she could do several back to back with no ill effects.
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