The Conjurer (The Vine Witch)

by Luanne G. Smith

  Sometimes mortal inventions were worth the inconvenience of all that noise and bother that came with them, but they also required payment. Elena dug around in the bottom of her satchel. She usually kept a few coins for spells requiring a little copper or silver. Hmm, but would it be enough? She and the dog approached the operator inside the station as she jingled the coins in her palm, uncertain. The gentleman behind the counter began to explain how the cost of a message was based on the word count, but then he glanced at the dog and seemingly lost his trail of thought. Indeed, he appeared to lose all memory of what he’d just expressed to Elena about the price and instead offered to send whatever message she liked for free. She hardly thought she needed to take advantage of such manipulation of a mortal—clearly the dog had hypnotized the poor fellow in some way—but she desperately wanted to know how Jean-Paul fared and let him and Brother Anselm know she was safe enough for the moment. With the agent’s offer still humming in the air between them, she borrowed a fountain pen and piece of paper and began to write. She signed off the message with a note stating she had freed herself of the “visitor” and not to worry.

  Unless, of course . . .

  “You don’t think Jamra returned to the vineyard to cause further harm instead, do you?” She bit her lip, but the dog shook his fur out, and she took him at his word. No, the dog was right. Jamra was likely still heading south and wouldn’t stop searching until he found either her or Sidra again. Which led Elena to wonder if there was more at stake than punishing the woman he believed killed his brother and stole one of his possessions. Revenge, she knew from experience, was a fire that could burn hot for years. Perhaps doubly so, if you were made of the stuff.

  “Now that that’s done,” she said to the dog when they stepped outside, “we can carry on with the business in town you’re so desperate for me to get to.” She knelt so that she was eye to eye with the creature. She checked for shadow, if by chance the animal had been cursed instead of being a jinni, but all she spied were the golden eyes of a dedicated guide. And, she began to hope, an ally. Elena thanked him for the nice trick with the telegraph officer, then followed him as he hopped on the funicular that carried the train passengers up the hill. He pulled the same mesmerizing stunt on the operator, who at first tried to shoo him off, and together they rode to the top of the hillside village with its clay tile roofs and arching palm trees. The town was like no place she’d visited before yet was pleasant enough, except for the overriding scent of flowers that obscured her sense of smell when it came to sniffing out fellow witches. Still, she could sense a familiar energy synching with her intuition as they disembarked and walked along the cobblestone streets.

  For a creature so determined to see her delivered to the center of the town, however, the dog walked with an overabundance of caution. His nose twitched at every intersection. Twice he skittered sideways at the sound of an engine backfiring. As a jinni, if that’s indeed what her guide was, he couldn’t be more different from Jamra the Belligerent.

  At last they came to a narrow road lined with palm trees, shops, and a covered loggia running along a small square. Fruits, flowers, and spices were on display inside baskets, bowls, and woven mats spread out on the sidewalk. And there were magical wares too. A man with a half-singed beard was selling crystals and amulets beside bundles of dried herbs, while a woman in a turban offered small tincture bottles full of fragrant oils meant to heal a headache. The scene was instantly reminiscent of summers in the Chanceaux Valley on market days when the palm readers lined the main street to ply their trade for money. Some you could trust to reveal innocuous fragments of your future, while others were a complete sham, claiming to know how the biggest events in one’s life were going to turn out. As if impending matters weren’t constantly being batted around by the whims of one outcome pitted against another. But the tourists never seemed to mind being taken advantage of, as long as they received good news.

  Elena turned to the dog to ask about the types of sorcery popular in the village, but he ducked his head and darted away before she could say a word. She watched his tail disappear down the street with that quicksilver speed of his and knew she wasn’t possibly meant to chase after him. So, what then was she supposed to do?

  The answer came sooner than expected when she heard a pair of familiar voices. Two women bickered about a snake, of all things, as they walked along the narrow lane leading from the hillside apartments adjacent to where she stood. Sidra and Yvette, her raison d’être, at least for the moment. Or at least that’s what her instinct was telling her. A tingle ran up her spinal column, dispersing like a Fête nationale sparkler inside her cranium to make the roots of her hair stiffen, now that she’d found them. But why had the dog run away when this was obviously why she’d been brought to the plaza?

  Left on her own to work it out, she waited until the pair stepped into the market street. She wasn’t sure why Yvette had come to be there, but she was glowing ever so softly. Her hair was pinned up neatly, and her face appeared bare except for a hint of blush. She walked with a sense of grace she’d not displayed before reuniting with her family. Breathtaking, the way she carried herself now.

  In comparison, Sidra seemed to have lost some of her luster. Her silks were fraying and dull with dirt, and her usually proud bearing had shrunk so that she walked furtively, full of tension. Elena had never seen fear in the jinni’s eyes before, not even when she faced execution, but the way they stalked the crowd, searching for some expected threat, suggested she knew already that Jamra was on his way.

  Elena waited for them at the corner. They hadn’t spotted her yet, though they would soon. She wondered then if a public street was the safest place for a meeting. She scanned the faces at the market wondering who might be watching. Was Jamra already near? Did he have allies in the village already? She sorted through her satchel to find something suitable. She had only a moment and very few items of practical use, thanks to being abducted by an angry jinni while in the middle of vine work. But then her hand found the two coins at the bottom of her bag as she spotted a vacant storefront across the plaza. Perhaps she could minimize attention.

  Holding the coins in her palm, she whispered, “Moon of silver, moon of gold, create a shop where charms are sold. Make a sign, make it shine, let them see the magic is mine.” The copper coin wasn’t technically gold, but the color was close enough to mimic a golden moon. The illusion took shape in a little alcove that had become the entrance to Elena’s newly created charm shop. A sign hung above the door with two back-to-back gold and silver crescents shimmering in the daylight. She crossed the street and jimmied the door open by copying Yvette’s spell for picking locks, then waited for the keen eyes of the jinni to discover her sign.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  He knew the witch was clever, but to create an illusion so quickly and with such detail was admirable. Perhaps the signs in the fire prophecy had been right about her. He hoped so. So many lives depended on it.

  The dog sat on the roof of the market loggia where he could watch without being seen. No one ever looked up in a town, but rooftops were where all the best omens were discovered.

  “She’s arrived?” asked the creature who’d previously perched on the rim of his ear. Now human-size, the being sat cross-legged on the edge of the roof, watching the street below.

  “They’ll meet any moment,” he answered. “And then we won’t have much time.”

  The being squinted. “We are prepared.”

  The animal lifted his ears as the jinni and the fair one came down the lane. Sidra would see the illusion for what it was, of this he was certain. But would she see beyond into the ether too soon? Her growing reliance on fire prophecy had become a concern, though he understood why she kept looking. The path behind her had been sealed, so there was only the future upon which to gaze.

  “It’s like watching a game board and waiting to see who will move next,” he said. “How do you resist the urge to intervene?”

  The
creature flipped Yanis’s talisman in the air, then caught it in an open palm. “I don’t always. Though after a while you grow detached to the sensation of so many lives interacting under your nose. But this is no time for grand apathy. The alliance was the right choice, strange as our acquaintance must seem to you.”

  The dog nodded, then stood and padded along the roof’s edge when Sidra stopped midstride. She’d seen the sign.

  “You honestly don’t know where the dagger is hidden?”

  He ought to know. Perhaps he could even guess correctly. But the vision wouldn’t come to him. “I cannot see the damned thing.”

  He felt the being studying him, but his face remained placid, only because he remained in his canine state. So unnerving the way her eyes could bore into you, searching beneath the surface for ethereal truth. The creature turned away, and he released his breath slowly so as not to reveal his unease.

  “There, we’ve managed that objective,” the being said, tracking the jinni and fair one as they entered the shop. “Everyone delivered safe and reunited. We’ll meet again at the crossroads, and then we’ll see what progress we’ve made.”

  The dog wagged his tail. When he looked again, he was alone on the rooftop.

  There were many moments he’d second-guessed his choice. And it had been a choice. His will to see the endeavor through to the end. He’d watched wish magic churn like a storm through people’s lives to meet its desired end before, but never from a rooftop looking down on those unaware of the force bearing down on them. And him powerless to do anything to stop it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “You left him alone in a room with a snake.” Yvette crossed her arms as she walked, as if sulking. “What if he dies?”

  Sidra admitted she’d thought about such a gesture, but she was no murderer, despite her threats. “Bah. The snake looked real enough but was merely made of smoke. Yanis will figure it out soon enough. A little deadly fear is a good thing for a man to feel course through him. Especially when he lies like a snake in the grass himself.”

  They came to the end of the lane. Sidra stopped as soon as they turned the corner. Two moons glittered on a tin sign—one silver, one gold. Her eyes scanned the street in either direction, then squinted at the sign over the door of the abandoned shop again. She knew every stall in the market plaza, every shop that sold goods on its perimeter. This one had sold coffee and tobacco, but the owner had died and the doors had closed. How had the moon sign been magicked into being in the short time they’d visited Yanis? And by whom?

  “What’s wrong?” Yvette asked, sensing Sidra’s wariness. The fairy glanced around as obvious as a meerkat on sentry duty, elevating a few inches off the ground to see over the heads of a couple shopping next to her.

  Sidra sniffed the air. “Stop that and follow me.” The jinni walked to the front door of the shuttered mercantile, where it now read ELENA’S CHARMS AND STAR-CROSSED SUNDRIES in a metallic sheen that seemed to float above the glass. She peered through the window but could see the store was still vacant. A scale for measuring coffee was mounted on the counter, but the shelves were empty. Straw and discarded packing paper littered the floor.

  “Do your trick with the lock,” she said.

  “Honestly, I’m good for more than just being your servant.” Yvette put her palm over the mechanism, but the door proved unlocked when she tried the handle.

  Sidra stepped inside. Her eyes searched the corners of the room, but it was her nose that sorted out the mystery. Ah, the scent of wine and oak wood, with a whiff of familiar smoke too.

  “Hello, Sidra.”

  The vine witch came out of the back room. Her hair hung loose about her shoulders, and her clothes were wrinkled and smelling of earth and fire. Their eyes met, exchanging messages of unspoken worry and warning.

  “Elena?” Yvette burst through the door and hugged her friend in a tasteless show of affection, as the Fée are prone to do. “When did you get here?”

  “Look at you.” Elena held Yvette’s arms out. “You’re absolutely glowing.”

  “I’m still an apprentice, but watch this.” Yvette levitated six inches off the ground. “Grand-Mère says it’s why people assume we have wings.”

  “Impressive.”

  Sidra locked the door behind them and pulled the shade. “She didn’t travel hundreds of miles to see you float, Yvette.”

  The girl dropped hard on the wooden floor and made a rude gesture with her fingers under her chin toward Sidra.

  “She’s right,” Elena said, though in a kinder tone. “I came to warn you. I was abducted by someone I think you’re familiar with. He tried to force me to find you.”

  “Jamra is here?”

  “No, not yet. At least I don’t think so. I escaped before arriving.”

  “But you aren’t burned?” Sidra looked Elena over in disbelief. “You aren’t harmed?”

  “Someone helped me get free of him. They put me on the train south.”

  “Someone? Who?”

  “Another jinni, as far as I can tell. One who likes to roam the countryside as a dog.”

  The dog’s tail?

  “Wait, didn’t you see a dog in the bird omen thing in the sky?” Yvette asked.

  “Bird omen?” Elena’s brow tightened.

  Yvette nudged her chin toward the jinni. “Obsessed with signs, this one.”

  Sidra shivered, too perplexed to scold the girl for her ignorance. A dog could be anyone. Then again, it couldn’t. The animal must be jinn. “I have no allies left except the old one, and he doesn’t leave the cave.”

  “Sounds about right,” Yvette said and added a mocking laugh.

  Elena intervened with hands held in a truce motion before Sidra could push up her sleeve to draw fire. “The dog led me here to the plaza. Made sure we found each other. If he’d meant to do harm, he could have ambushed you at any time. So, it might be fair to say at least four people are on your side.”

  “Four?” Yvette scrunched up her nose, then realized what the witch was saying. “Oh, right. Lucky you, you’ve got us too,” she said and lit a cigarette.

  Sidra nodded, thinking about what the old one had said about their reunion being good magic. The trio had been brought together for a reason, their fates linked one to the other. Almost as if foretold. But he’d never said anything about another jinni. And she wasn’t convinced the dog was an ally. Not after her home had been burgled by one of her own kind.

  “What is it?” Elena asked.

  “I need to look into the fire.”

  Yvette blew smoke up to the ceiling. “Again, with the omens? Titania says magic has to be respected. Some of les anciennes in the Fée lands even worry it could run out someday.”

  For once the girl had a point. “One shouldn’t look too often at the shadows lining the future, true, but this moment needs clarifying.” Sidra gathered the scraps of straw and crumpled paper from the floor and tossed them onto the plates of the scale mounted on the counter. The setup was crude but would suffice.

  “Come, girl, and see how superior magic is done.”

  “Last time I saw you read a fire you abandoned me on top of a tower to fend for myself against your wish magic.” Yvette smirked and floated five feet over to the scales.

  Sidra gently blew fire onto the paper and straw until they caught. The paper curled and turned black as the fire feasted. The straw crackled, glowing like orange filaments before turning black and drooping. The three huddled around the scales. In the distance, a whistle announced the train’s departure.

  “You see how the paper curls and holds its shape even when it turns to ash? It means plans cannot be altered. The path is set. That’s not always so with the future.”

  “Which path?” Elena asked, unable to hide the genuine worry in her eyes.

  Sidra pointed to how the filaments of straw crossed each other before collapsing. “The conflict I’ve been expecting. But there’s something else here,” she said and watched how the fire died out
and trailed into smoke.

  “What? That we’re all going to die?” Yvette had meant it half in jest, but no one laughed.

  “Perhaps only some of us.” Sidra smiled inwardly at making the girl uncomfortable, then turned back to her pyromancy. “The smoke twists uniformly instead of wafting naturally. It spirals in a controlled manner. Almost as if by design. As if the future were . . .”

  “Compelled by wish magic?”

  Sidra met Elena’s gaze with a nod. “You have sensed this too?”

  Yvette visibly shivered. “Merde, you think someone wished for us to be killed by Jamra?”

  Elena peered closer at the smoke. “My intuition isn’t compelled to act the same way it was in the city with your wish, but there is a feeling of some grander scheme at work, drawing us all together.”

  The smoke dissipated, carrying with it any further insight. Sidra shook her head, still not convinced anything like wish magic was at work. And yet she, too, had the sense that events were being manipulated. The way her medallion was stolen. The coincidence of Elena being abducted by Jamra and then freed so she could be led to the village. Even the annoying girl being sent to this place at her side had the whiff of coordination. As if someone kept correcting a master plan.

  Elena sorted through the ashes left in the tray.

  “What else do you seek?” Sidra asked.

  “I thought maybe . . . I’m not as good at reading ashes as you, but I hoped I might see a sign.”

  “You have to first ask the fire a question before it burns through to find an answer in the ashes.”

  Elena straightened. “In that case, I have to go. Whatever’s going on here, I’ve done my part. I warned you about Jamra and what he intends to do, but now I must return home as quickly as possible. Jean-Paul was hexed before I was taken.”