by Amber Lynn
I made my way to the gym and found Nadine waiting for me, as expected. She’d sectioned off one of the back mats as our little work area. I didn’t know exactly what was dividing the mat from the rest of the room, but there was a combination of stuff lining the perimeter and a change in the way the air felt.
“I trust you’re feeling better,” she said.
“As good as one can in a house full of crazy people,” I replied. “Other than when I hit the ground, I didn’t really feel any pain.”
“You do have a very eclectic mix here, but everyone seems to care for you very much. I’ve seen some beings I didn’t think I’d ever see, and you’ve mentioned having a Fate as a friend.”
“Don’t believe a word anyone around here says. I’m pretty sure they were all con artists in previous lives. So, how do we get started? I’ve really only played around with spells I think up on a whim, and they’re usually accompanied with bombs going off in my head.”
“Tell me what you feel is the biggest thing you’ve tried so far.”
“You mean beyond the fact that I somehow managed a spell to give me these powers to begin with? Probably the whole moving me and Nate from an airplane in Alaska to the house you’re standing in now.”
“And you did that without any help. Just thought up some words and were able to accomplish something that large,” she said.
“Correct. I decided I didn’t want to fly on a plane anymore and whisked us away,” I replied.
“You’re even stronger than I thought. I felt the power while you were still asleep, but I wasn’t aware of just how strong you really are. I’m sure you know that I’m not that strong a sorceress. It would take a very large sacrifice for me to accomplish something like that,” she said.
“I think that’s kind of what I need you to teach me. I keep getting these horrible headaches when I say a spell, and the other day I tried to deactivate someone else’s spell and ended up passed out for a while. If we can find a way to avoid those things, I’d be extremely happy.”
“I understand. I’m sure you’ve heard all magic has its price. You will need to find something you’re willing to sacrifice in order to say a spell to avoid the headaches,” she explained.
“How big a sacrifice are we talking?” I asked. “I’d prefer not to have to lose chunks of memory again, which is how I got my super-charged powers in the first place. And if we could keep from having to kill small animals, I’d like that too.”
“It just depends on what you want to do. People have done things like tattoo themselves as sacrifice before saying a spell. The most common is probably a blood offering. If all you ended up with was a headache from your teleporting trick, I don’t think it will take much of a sacrifice for you to do most things,” she said. “If I were to try that without a sacrifice, I’d probably lose a year or two off my life.”
“So are you saying I have to go find some chickens and start slitting their throats before I say a spell?” I asked. “As I mentioned, I’d prefer not to kill small animals, but I could at least cook the chicken up afterward.”
“If that’s what you want to do, yes. Some things may take a death like that in order prevent you from feeling the pain. For the most part, with your power, I think you might be able to get by sacrificing a little of your own blood. Before you say a spell, prick your finger and allow the blood to either fall to the earth or into a bowl. Work into your spell that’s your sacrifice and you should be good to go,” she clarified.
“Really, it would be that easy? I don’t have to use a special dagger or anything like that?” I asked, looking into her light blue eyes.
With her gray hair and wrinkled face, she matched the image I had in my head of what a sorceress should look like. I technically had two images, but the other one was based on “sexy” Halloween witch costumes that I assumed were false.
“I don’t think so. We can practice and see how it goes, but I think your spilled blood will be a big enough sacrifice.”
It was kind of weird, but if it worked, I preferred it to the headaches. It’s not like I was going to go around casting spells that often anyway. At least I hoped things didn’t turn out that I had to.
“So how can we test this theory?” I asked.
“How do you think? You’re going to have to try a spell. I have my ceremonial bowl here that you can offer your sacrifice in. I would recommend something similar because just a bowl from the kitchen kind of cheapens the sacrifice,” she said as she turned to look through her stuff and brought out the bowl. “I was told you would probably come with your own knives, so I’ll leave the cutting instrument to you.”
I preferred my own knives, because that way I knew they hadn’t been dipped in something harmful. I had no reason not to trust Nadine, but I found myself cautious around her. She kept saying she wasn’t that strong, but our definitions probably differed.
I pulled the knife from my right thigh sheath and prepared to make a cut on my finger. “The cut doesn’t have to be crazy deep or anything does it?” I asked.
“No, just make sure you get a few drops into the bowl,” she replied.
I took the knife and made a small slice on my left pinkie finger. At first I didn’t see any blood, so I squeezed until it made it to the surface. I held my finger over the bowl and worked to make a small puddle in the bowl.
“Now, just work your sacrifice into a spell.” Nadine instructed.
“Okay, here goes nothing. With my blood freely given; we begin this spell and hope to be forgiven; mom’s hair of blonde is so wrong; change it to brunette, as it should have been all along,” I said, and waited for any indication that it worked.
I didn’t feel the usual headache, so I was pretty sure I’d messed it up somehow. Of course the person who I expected to be affected wasn’t in the room, so I didn’t have any proof whether it worked.
“Not only are you strong, but you’re also good with your wording. Rhyming isn’t always necessary, but it does make it fun,” Nadine commented.
“I don’t think it worked though. I didn’t feel anything.”
“As long as you have your sacrifice in order, you shouldn’t feel a thing. Just trust in your magic and it will do its job.”
“Avery Belle Clavens, I know you did this,” I heard my mother screech at the top of her lungs. “You better be able to undo this just as quickly.” Her voice was swiftly heading in my direction.
When she entered the room, I saw her hair was a rich brown. I thought it looked pretty good on her, but I doubted that would matter. She had a persona she was trying to be.
“I’m guessing me saying it was someone else isn’t going to fly. It could have been one of the warlocks messing with us.”
“No, dear daughter. This has you written all over it. Now would you be so kind as to change it back to its regular color?” she asked, actually it was more of a demand, but I was ignoring that tone in her voice.
“I don’t know, Mom. I think you look pretty good as a brunette.”
“Be that as it may, I prefer blonde, so get to it,” she said, waving her hands around. I thought about waiting a few minutes to see if the hand motions helped anything, but I knew they wouldn’t.
“Fine,” I said, returning to the bowl to add a few more drops of blood. My fingertips had never hurt over the many years that I’d burnt them while cooking, so it didn’t surprise me that I felt no pain when I pricked my finger a second time.
“Here is my blood as sacrifice; thank you to Nadine for such good advice; mom wants her hair the same as before; so please change it back before she knocks me to the floor.” I knew it wasn’t pretty, but it did the job.
“Is it better?” Mom asked.
“It’s blonde again if that’s what you mean by better,” I told her. I still thought the melted milk chocolate color looked better.
“You know very well that’s what I’m asking you. I’ll let you get back to your fun, but please try to target someone else with your spells. You tend to use your brother en
ough that he’s used to it,” she said, hurrying from the room. It looked like she was afraid that any second I’d change her hair back. I found it hilarious and thought the next time I’d turn it pink.
“So, it seems this is going well, what can you tell me about protecting myself when disarming spells?” I asked Nadine.
“As there are many ways you can offer sacrifice, there are many ways to protect yourself. I personally use Angelica Root. I used to carry a small pouch of it with me, but now I drink a glass of Angelica Root tea every day. It’s a little bit more convenient and good for the heart. I can put you in touch with the online shop where I get mine if you’d like.”
“Sure, that would be nice. If you’re not aware, I’m preparing to battle a warlock who is set on killing me. Since I have you here answering questions, do you have any advice?”
“Other than to go for the neck?” she asked with an odd twinkle in her eye.
“I’m pretty sure this particular warlock won’t be stopped by a decap and burn. I have a knife that has been charmed and should be able to do the job. The problem is he has one that will kill me. If that were to happen, things would get bad fast for anyone left alive.”
“That’s a big problem. I know enough to know you’re not human, but I don’t know exactly what you are. I imagine that him having something that would kill you is pretty remarkable, and goes to show just how strong he is. I’d be no help in a fight against something that strong, but I will mentor you as much as I can.”
“Thanks. I’m so new at this magic stuff that I’m sure there are tons of things for me to learn. Just getting through the headaches is a good start, but I don’t know exactly what other limits there are.”
“I know you uniques don’t like letting others know what species you are, but do you happen to have abilities other than your sorceress ability to cast spells?” she asked.
She’d already skated around me being a unique, and it was cute that she continued to, but I could tell she wanted to know what she was dealing with. I didn’t see any problem with her having that knowledge.
“If you’re going to be hanging out around here for any amount of time, you might as well know that I’m a phoenix. As far as abilities, I have some decent telepathy, telekinesis and I’m a wicked firestarter,” I said, producing one of my fireballs as proof.
“You’re a phoenix? But that would mean most of the people I’ve met while I was here are phoenixes, because they’re related to you. Phoenixes are the most cherished beings in the magical community. Meeting one would be like completing a lifelong goal,” she said before looking at me crossly.
“Fooling with an old lady like that isn’t very nice. If you don’t want to reveal what you really are, you don’t have to make up such a grand lie. The fireball was a nice touch, though, but I know anyone with a rudimentary level education in pyrokinesis can do that trick.”
“What would it take for you to believe me?” I asked.
I hadn’t expected her not to believe me. It made me liked her a little better that she didn’t.
“I wouldn’t believe anyone to be a phoenix unless they changed right in front of me,” she stated, and the glare in her eyes intensified.
“If I had an extra pair of clothes, I wouldn’t mind, but we have a house full of unique leaders, and I don’t think I want to give them a free show,” I responded. “Before you leave to return home, one of us will change for you. With five phoenixes in the house, one of us should be able to find the time to prove it to you.” I could’ve produced an extra pair of clothes with magic, or charmed my clothes not to burn, but I didn’t feel like changing for some reason right that minute.
“You might want to do a recount on those phoenixes,” a male voice said from the door.
CHAPTER 24
A secret agent is only as good as their weapons