Under Witch Moon (Moon Shadow Series)

by Maria E. Schneider

  As soon as I finished the map, guilt made me go directly to the post office where his box was located. White Feather was usually grateful for any information I sent in, but in this case he was likely to be angry. He already thought I was playing some sort of game on the Dolores thing.

  The morning was gone, which left me a short afternoon to get spells ready for Vi's project. If I got the ingredients now, tonight was as good a time as any to practice.

  I ran through my list of chemicals for the levitation spell. "Capsule of helium, wire for current…"

  Two stops later, I had everything in hand. Instead of going home to eat, I went to the burrito drive through.

  Once home, I made sure the slim, coated windows around the top of my workroom were closed tightly before setting out my supplies to begin the spell. Even though the shelves lining the room looked disorganized, most of the leather bound books, herbs and liquids were alphabetized. The polished pieces of wood, odd sculpted metal, stones and pottery were also organized, but I was probably the only one who could possibly understand the method.

  I set out the few items I needed on the long work table. Since flying didn't require furniture, I moved a stool and chair out of the way and stood next to one of the bookcases. If the spell worked, I had a clear flying aisle all the way to the sink.

  The most effective way to levitate was to use magnets underneath something, such as a broom or carpet. My sneakers were an easy choice because there was room in the soles for the paraphernalia I needed in the spell.

  The next challenge was activating the spell. With a protection spell, it was all a chemical interaction. In the case of flying, I had to construct the spell so that it could be started and stopped when I wanted. I had considered using Faraday's Principle of Induction--motion of the magnet, such as me running, to cause an electric current that would activate the spell, but I didn't want to take off every time I ran.

  This very problem was how witches ended up with a reputation for strange incantations. We sometimes had to use Words of Power, and if we used any old English word we could end up accidentally triggering a spell in the middle of a conversation. Don't think spoken commands weren't powerful either. My father could crack an order that stopped my childhood legs in their tracks. Most parents could do this and didn't even know they were throwing a form of a spell.

  "Yolkhai Estsan!" I intoned, sucking air into my lungs and holding my breath.

  Like the Navajo sky goddess, whose name I used, I lifted off the ground.

  There was no stopping my giddy smile, although I bet the sky goddess wouldn't have been very impressed with the mere four inches of air underneath my feet.

  "Hah!" I was airborne!

  I took a tentative step forward and nearly fell flat on my face. Thankfully the top bookshelf was in reach. I grabbed it.

  For a few seconds I wasn't sure if I was levitating or hanging by my fingertips.

  "Maybe that's why witches use a broom." Tentatively, I let go of the shelf, careful not to knock down any of the books or glass jars.

  Walking hadn't worked so...I slid one foot forward, trying not to lean over too much. It was like swimming against a current with a plate balanced on my head. "And what will happen if I activate the motion spell?" I had the spell worked out, but if I added it to the sneakers, my feet might take off and drag the rest of me behind.

  "Definitely need to put the spell on something longer." I still liked the rug idea, assuming I could stay on top of it. Then there was the whole problem of knowing when the spell was wearing off. I didn't want to be mid-flight when it ran out of controlled air currents even if I was only four inches above the ground.

  The lack of height reminded me that I wanted to try helium in the mix. Unfortunately, I had planned on stepping on the helium to snap the capsule and have the chemicals mix. Four inches up in the air there wasn't anything to step on.

  Using the shelf to hold still, I lifted one foot and snapped the capsule.

  It was an instant success. "Ow!" My head hit the ceiling with an audible crack.

  There was no point in trying to walk again because there was nothing to grab onto this high up. Maybe there was a balancing spell I could use, or maybe I could put the magnetic spell into my shirt in case I fell over.

  I canceled the spell and got myself back on the ground.

  Instead of helium, I was probably better off using warm air currents. Maybe that was why witches were often seen on brooms at dusk. Warm air currents rising from warm earth at night would be useful.

  I skimmed through a few books. If I lived closer to the ocean, I would have had more currents to choose from, along with the tidal pull. New Mexico had a lot of beach, but very little ocean. "Stabilizers…" I ran my fingers down the page. "This one could work. Certainly long enough to get in or out of a building."

  The shop was too small for a bigger experiment. I needed to be outside. A nice lonely desert location would also make it easier to hear the magic, to listen to the sand shift across the mesas, and feel the moonlight dance in the shadows. There were ancient voices out there, a power that ran through the earth as sure as lodestone attracted iron. Using earth elements in spells was a form of channeling--sort of like burning gasoline for power, only the extraction methods and packaging were different.

  I packed what I needed and headed for my favorite spot deep in the hills, about a two-mile trek into nowhere. I rarely practiced with lights, which was the only reason I preferred a full moon. In my perfect arroyo, the piñon trees, scrub oak and pines were thick. The red stone cliffs sheltered me, giving me room to fly around without worrying about being seen.

  I set the spell and attained the four inches without trouble. There was nothing to grab onto except a handful of juniper needles. I used the second spell quickly, sending myself up to the tops of the junipers so that when I added motion I didn't end up planting my face in the side of a tree.

  "Easy, easy," I whispered. Breathing with exertion and exhilaration, I set the final spell for motion. The shadows moved beneath the trees. The eerie glow of moonlight on the rocks made everything red, but I wasn't afraid.

  I was flying! Almost.

  I had been right about the shoes. The sneakers didn't have a lot of area, so as the wind swooshed beneath my feet, I only drifted forward slowly. I had a plan for this problem though.

  Smugly, I muttered, "Wind at my back…"

  Swoosh! The wind was strong. "Uh--aaahhh!" My face went forward. The flat of my shoes went vertical. I headed straight for the ground. About to eat dirt, I pulled in my knees just in time, getting my feet under me. The magnetic spell in the shoes bounced off mother earth. Unfortunately, the spell at my back was still going strong. I changed one earth face for the other, rushing at the red stone cliffs with amazing speed.

  My shoulder collided with the red surface. I pulled my feet in again to try and bounce. It worked only too well. I shot backwards, six feet away, straight into a pine tree. The wind at my back pushed me up through the tree and straight for the moon.

  I tried to protect my face, taking pine needles across both arms. Sap tangled in my hair. A branch hit my cheek. My eyes stung either from the branches or cold air.

  "Moonlight madness!" I cursed. If I dissolved the spell, I'd crash back down and have to endure the same punishment in reverse.

  I tried slowing the spell by dispersing it.

  It didn't work. I hadn't set up a dispersal spell ahead of time. How do you disperse wind anyway?

  Live and learn. I stopped the wind spell cold, afraid that with the way my luck was going, I'd hit a weather blimp.

  I fell. It wasn't too difficult to pull my legs back under me, but this far from the ground, the magnetic spell under my sneakers didn't work until I got close to mother earth. I could no longer move forward or backwards.

  I glanced off a tree branch, only to have one spelled foot bounce off a high boulder. I tilted.

  "Aeeii!" I righted myself, but the shadows fooled me into thinking I had m
ore time to find a landing pad. At six feet above the ground, the repel spell kicked in so hard, the impact knocked me over backwards.

  That was it. I couldn't get my feet back under me in time. With all the grace of a bound earthling, I kissed mother earth, hard.

  Chapter 9

  I wasn't expecting Lynx, but he was waiting in the shadows when I arrived home. Wisely, he didn't sneak up on me.

  "What's for dinner?" he asked around a huge yawn. Using the porch light, he pointedly inspected the scratches and bruises on my face, but I ignored him. I did not try to walk without limping because both ankles hurt wretchedly. My left shoulder had a huge bruise where I had hit the cliff, so I used my other hand to open the door.

  "I ate already. You can find something in the fridge. I bought apples and bananas yesterday."

  Lynx immediately helped himself to a soda. When he turned and saw me in the full light of the kitchen he said, "You never take me on the fun ones."

  Not needing any caffeine, I poured myself some ice water. "I talked to your client. I took the case."

  He nodded, unconcerned.

  I sat down before I could fall. "What gives? Another client?"

  He pulled a box out of my cupboard and started shoveling my supply of animal crackers into his maw. "Hah." It took several minutes of chewing before he could speak. "You pay me to be ears."

  "And?" I was leery, especially after having missed so much news. Knowing Lynx, he might now start telling me who was running for governor and expect to be paid.

  He chewed some more. "Not sure its news or not, but it sounded funny."

  "What did you hear?"

  He licked his lips, gulped soda and said, "Street says there's a guy looking for a witch. Willing to pay big money."

  My mind froze as I thought of my late-night visitor. My voice squeaked when I asked, "Was it a vamp?"

  "Huh?" He stopped chewing and stared at me. "Why you ask that?"

  I took a deep breath. It wasn't possible to sound casual after my initial reaction, but I shrugged and tried to act cool. "Well, who was it?"

  He grunted and chewed some more while watching me carefully. When I didn't offer more information, he answered the question. "I think he's a cop. He's offering too much to find you in particular and asking too little about the spell he says he needs."

  I wasn't sure I liked that answer much better than a vamp. "A cop."

  Lynx nodded and upended the box of crackers. "Might not be looking for you. He's an amateur, describing an old witch, but the best. All the dummies think witches are old."

  The old part made me think of White Feather. Had he gotten the map and decided to call me out into the open? "What made you think he was looking for me in particular? Maybe the guy just needs a potion."

  "That's the funny part. He asked about protection."

  "So?"

  "Guys don't go around asking for protection, not the way he's doing it, you know?"

  I could see his point. Protection wasn't a spell most men would ask for, at least not publicly. "Is he Indian? Maybe he has a spirit after him."

  "Nah. Could be a Mexican dude with a voodoo curse, though." He shrugged. "I don't know. I was gonna ignore it. He didn't seem like a real client, more like a big talker, gonna hire him a witch for protection."

  "What made you think he's a cop?" It made little sense for White Feather to try and find me openly. He had to know that finding the real me would ruin our relationship, and unless he had some other source of information in the paranormal world, I was his best edge.

  Lynx smiled. "The cop part I know."

  I groaned. When Lynx knew something, he wouldn't tell his sources unless I could convince him the circumstances were life or death--for him. "What does he look like?"

  Lynx shrugged and climbed down from the kitchen chair. "I only saw him in the dark. He's tall. And he hasn't been doing all the asking on his own about this witch. He's definitely the one hiring, but there's been a couple of other whispers about "a friend of mine lookin' to hire a witch'." Lynx took one last longing look at the refrigerator, but he had already checked it and knew there wasn't any leftover takeout. "Maybe not even you he wants. He didn't ask for you by name, but it sounded like he had someone specific in mind, you know?"

  No, I didn't know, but before I could complain, with a quiet snick, the doorknob turned, and he was gone.

  Chapter 10

  You don't have to be a witch to feel the power and presence of Santa Fe. Ancient cultures lived in its hills; men fought and died for their homes, their dreams, and their way of life. Feet traveled across this earth from the Indians, to those who forged the Old Santa Fe Trail. Each person left behind a tiny essence that created the aura of Santa Fe. The air breathed of life and dreams, ancient and modern.

  The plaza was at its busiest after church on Sunday so it was hard to feel the aura, even though the tourists were a part of what made it what it was. After putting my newly blessed crucifixes and water in the trunk of my car, I hurried across the buckled and cracked sidewalk towards the center of the square. The earth beneath my feet radiated heat, the mundane kind, making me glad I had worn shorts. I wondered if there would be a signal from White Feather.

  I didn't dally until I heard my name. "Adriel!"

  My feet stopped churning. Even my sister used my chosen nickname rather than my birth name. It nearly killed her, but she had seen too much to deny she could do me harm by revealing my real name. "Kas," I replied, turning to face the open patio where she sat.

  "You haven't been by to see Mom in a while."

  No complaints that I hadn't stopped to see her and her husband, Gary, but, oh, she nagged me about Mom and Dad. "No, but I called them…" I couldn't remember exactly when. "Last week," I finally decided.

  Her dark brown eyes matched mine except for the hazel streaks in my left. Despite being two years younger than me, we might have looked like twins except for the fact her ebony hair had burnished orange streaks, the less-than-attractive result of following the recent highlighting trend. "You could be more attentive," she pressed.

  "And you could be less obnoxious."

  She waved one bejeweled hand imperiously. "Off on your important gutter business, no doubt. I wouldn't want to take up your time."

  "No problem. I am busy at the moment, but why don't you stop by for dinner when you aren't swamped with your other social engagements?" I might not have the extra money required to sit at plaza patio restaurants sipping coffee and nibbling cakes, but I got by. Of course, it wasn't the amount of money, it was the way I earned it that bothered her. I had chosen an ancient profession, one she had no respect for--one she believed "our ignorant ancestors resorted to."

  She sniffed. "It would be better if you came to our house for dinner." She glanced behind me as though searching for someone. "I'll call."

  Her wave was probably supposed to be a casual "good-bye" rather than a shooing-off, but it felt that way anyway.

  Whatever. Not everyone could marry a husband who raked in the dough. She called him a water specialist, and while he did do some exotic fountain designs, the bulk of his work came from installing fancy water-efficient toilets in new houses and remodeling the multitude of old ones in Santa Fe.

  Kas was right about one thing though; I needed to call my mother more often. If I had, I would have known about the werewolf killings. It was exactly the sort of thing my mother would gossip about.

  Mindful that my sister was watching, I crossed the center part of the plaza without slowing. I was relieved to see the monument in the middle contained no signal from White Feather. If he were truly eager to see me, he would have left a signal. He was either planting a false trail in the rumors or it wasn't White Feather doing the chasing.

  There were other people besides Lynx who might have good information about cops looking for witches. I headed out of the plaza for the kind of restaurant my sister would not be seen in. Not that Tino wasn't respectable. It just happened that he owned restaurants and ba
rs for the underground.

  The Owl was a bar, but contained more private rooms in the back for a meal and business. Only those of us known to Tino were invited to the back rooms.

  The Monastery, his higher-end eatery, was rumored to house the ghosts of past monks, but I knew it was only bats living in what was either an old chimney or perhaps a refurbished belfry.

  Tino kept the groupies away by owning places like "El Ojo," better known by its English name, "The Evil Eye" and "El Lobo Negro," often translated unkindly as "The Black Mongrel." The groupies went to his trendy places and had their fortune told by people who couldn't read a tarot card if the instructions were printed on the back. Very avoidable and not a good place to pick up legitimate business.

  I slid into a booth in one of the back rooms at The Owl. I always sat near the alley-side. There were no windows, so I had to settle for sitting near the door. The dim candlelight was rumored to be from illusion candles, throwing magical shadows to make it harder to recognize a person in the future.

  When Angel shuffled over to take my order, I said, "Green-chile cheeseburger. Tino in?"

  "Nah, there were some gang problems over in El Lobo." Angel only resembled her namesake in that her hair was shocking white. Even if she somehow grew wings, I doubted they would be strong enough to help her five-four, hundred and sixty pounds into the air. "You want a diet coke or water with your burger?"

  "Make it water. I don't need the caffeine."

  "I'll have your coke then," she suggested.

  "Sure, add it to my tab. If Tino comes in, let me know, would you?"

  "You looking for business?"

  "Not really. Just wanted to catch up on gossip. I'm a little worried about the women who have been found," I waved my hands wishing I didn't have to say it, "dead."