Under Witch Moon (Moon Shadow Series)

by Maria E. Schneider

  Lynx confirmed it when he got to the car. He had to wake me up. My face was drenched in sweat, but I was still cold. As Lynx dragged me into the backseat he said, "You're burning up."

  "Just...a fever," I tried reassuring him. "Fighting..." I didn't know how my body was fighting, but it was fighting. Either that or Sheila was tiring. No one could run spells forever.

  I fell into restless slumber in the back seat, knowing that distance would make the spell lose some of its grip.

  I hoped.

  Somewhere along the drive, Lynx asked, "Do I take you to the hospital or another witch?"

  "No!" The hospital might help, but I couldn't afford that from either a magical standpoint or a pocketbook one. Sheila might expect me to go to the hospital. I wasn't taking any chances on her finding me. "Got to...break the fever. Water--"

  "Cold or hot?"

  "Don't speed," I coughed. "You have a half naked woman in the back." I sat up. Dizziness pushed me back down. "First cold water. Then...the herbs." I closed my mouth to keep from biting my tongue during the hard shivers.

  "Same herbs you mentioned before? I can get them from your store room or somewhere else if I have to."

  "Sage. Corn pollen, white and blue," I repeated through clenched teeth.

  "Okay."

  As far as my brain was concerned, the rest of the ride didn't happen. Next thing I knew, I was on the shower floor, cold water spraying all over my face. The blanket was gone, and I was still in my bra and underwear, shivering so hard I thought my teeth would crack. "Lynx," I yelled. "I'm going to kill you."

  It didn't take me long to find my feet and get the water shut off. Whether I liked it or not, it helped. Water could very well be the best purifier there was. Many spells, especially long-distance ones, couldn't travel through it. Reluctantly, I turned the water back on. "Cold," I howled. "Cold, cold, cold!"

  In the tub next to the shower, I could see that Lynx had started filling it with warm water. I could jump from cold straight to hot. "Dammit."

  I rinsed off, letting the water bring any vestiges of fever down and hopefully kill most of the spell remnants. Through the glass I saw Lynx come back in. My teeth still chattered, but it was real cold, coming from without, not within.

  "How much of this stuff do you want in there?" he asked me.

  "Quarter cup of sage and tablespoon of each of the other."

  He sprinkled it properly, tossing it respectfully away from his body and muttering the proper words. Even though he didn't have a witch bone in his body so far as I knew, he apparently had paid attention to a few rituals.

  He left me in peace to try and recuperate. At least I think he did. It was all I could do to finish the required rituals. I tripped over my poncho full of backpack things on my way to the bed. If I hadn't, I might not have noticed the fresh picked sage leaves scattered around my bed.

  Crawling under the covers, I found another surprise. My pillow now housed a dirty, disgusting packet of herbs. I recognized the woven pattern on the band meant to serve as a wristband. Lynx had left me his own protection packet, one I had made for him years ago as part of an early payment.

  Dirty as it was, I clutched it in my hand and fell asleep.

  Chapter 15

  Viona was expecting me even though it was after five o'clock the next evening before I could drag myself to her house. Eager hands reached for the papers before she bothered to invite me inside. She stared at her husband's signature granting the request for funds.

  "I'm not sure when she was planning on turning them in," I told her, "but it looks like we were in time."

  "Next week," she murmured, using her free hand to push straggles of hair away from her face. "We had until next week. All the budgets are getting done, and this would have gone into the head office with all the other requests as though he had approved it." She gulped in air as if she had forgotten to breathe.

  "Will you be able to convince your husband that we've replaced the papers with fakes?" I was more concerned about Harold now that I had an inkling of how Sheila directed her talents. I feared for Vi's life, that of her husband and every field mouse that happened to be close to where Sheila lived.

  Vi must have heard something in my tone because her eyes left the papers in a hurry. "What do you mean?"

  "If you tell your husband we planted fake papers is he strong enough to tell those above him that Sheila turned in fake papers with a badly forged signature? Remember, the papers I left behind have a signature because we don't want Sheila to notice a blank line. Harold will still have to point out that he didn't sign the papers."

  "Didn't you reverse the spell? Won't he return to normal?" Her shrill voice nearly split my eardrums.

  I pushed past her into the entry way so that we could close the door. The way her voice carried, the entire valley would hear her business. "I believe I mentioned that the plan was to get the papers back to stop the worst of the damage. I did not say it would solve everything."

  "What do you think I hired you for? Can you reverse the spell or not?"

  Having seen the lengths Sheila was willing to go, I had no doubt that we were not up against a single, simple spell. "I don't think so."

  "I'll hire someone else!"

  "You could, but your husband has been badly used. He was likely reeled in over and over until Sheila proved to him that she was master and he slave."

  She raised her chin and started to speak.

  "Abuse like that leaves scars," I said softly. "Those scars are now separate from the spell itself. You mentioned that your husband had withdrawn. How bad has that gotten?"

  Her brown eyes didn't waver, but her chin came down a notch. The tailored pantsuit she wore didn't go with the worn makeup and the pinched lines around her mouth. When she finally answered her voice was small. "He's not eating unless I force him. He goes to work, but I don't think he does any work. He sits. I've gotten him anti-depressants and an appetite stimulant."

  "Does he go into work as though drawn there or out of habit?"

  "At first it was…" She leaned heavily against the wall. "He was depressed, listless, but he went to work as though soldiering on, as though it might kill him, but he would carry on."

  "When did it change?"

  She waved her hand. "He--after the papers. I think he was fighting her then."

  "He probably thought that by telling you about the first set of papers he might break Sheila's hold over him." I paced a step away. "She likely noticed the fight."

  "She planned on me finding out!"

  "How is he now?" I asked.

  Her shoulders slumped. We stared at each other for a few moments. I reached out, but didn't quite touch her. Instead I turned and led the way into the living room toward the leather seats.

  "Harold missed work several days, refused to go," she said from behind me. "That's when we went in for the anti-depressants. He went back to work. Then it got even worse. I don't know what happened." She was crying openly now.

  "Compulsion spell, I would imagine. He goes to work now whether he wants to or not."

  Vi put one foot in front of the other and came toward the living room. She ignored the tears dripping off her chin. "He goes."

  "My guess is that after he defied her, she reeled him back in again, sexually and in other ways to prove she was boss. At that time, she probably got…" I didn't want be too graphic. "It's like voodoo. She will have taken things from him to make the ties stronger. And then called him back like a puppet until his will was broken."

  "It's not about sex," Vi mumbled, covering her mouth with her hand as though to keep in a scream.

  "It never was. Unfortunately, sex is a very common way to break a person down." There was no easy way to say it.

  "Can't you steal back whatever she took from him?" she begged. "Can't you find this thing, this hair, his fingernails--" she choked off because I was shaking my head.

  "No." I delivered this sad news knowing that by now his blood had to be involved. "There's
no good way to know where she stored anything she took, but best guess is it stays on her person in what is called an amulet." I had to swallow to keep from gagging. "Since your husband is her current focus, I doubt she ever takes it off, especially at work. He would know the object, at least subconsciously. She would show it to him, display it openly. It's part of the torture."

  "He's destroyed," she whispered. "She's completely destroyed him!"

  "That's why I replaced the papers with fakes. He might benefit if he is able to tell his superiors that the signature on the new papers is forged. It will give him a sense of control, and it will catch Sheila by surprise." There was no point in mentioning that Sheila had found me in her house. She had no reason to believe I had gotten in the safe and no reason to suspect the papers had been replaced. If she did notice, Harold wasn't any worse off than he had been before I got involved.

  Vi finally reached into her pocket for a tissue. "Why can't you steal this amulet thing from her person?"

  Now I did choke. It took me two tries to get out, "Even if I did, destroying the amulet could kill him depending on how tightly he is bound."

  "Maybe he'd rather be dead than owned." The anger was back in her voice, and I wasn't sure if she was speaking for her husband or for herself.

  "He could die as we try to release him with or without destroying the amulet. You'll have to live with that."

  "He's almost dead now." She sank down into a chair, wiping at her face. "If you can't cure it, what can be done?"

  I sighed. "If we do this right, we can wean him away over the next few weeks." I reached for my backpack, but I no longer had one. I dug what I wanted out of my fanny pack. "We want to make sure he's at work to stop that funding from going through. Part of his healing will be regaining control. Every step he takes to defy her is going to help fix this." I didn't tell her how hard it was to fight a blood spell. "I have a pack for him."

  She sniffed and wiped her eyes, but made no move to take my offer. "Add more witchcraft?" She shook her head.

  "Don't worry, it's nothing like her spells. I made it fresh this morning--a mix of sage, sweet grass, tobacco and cedar. The elements in the packet will begin the purification process and offer a small buffer. It isn't protection exactly because it won't stop her since she is already within the borders of his mind. It's more like a wall to buffer the pull that he probably feels all the time."

  "Can't you cut the pull completely? Snap it in half, burn it, destroy it?"

  I shook my head. "Not without damaging him, not at this point. In the end, I'm not going to be the one to do it either. I'd recommend a medicine man who can do a spiritual ceremony or a priest willing to perform an exorcism. Your choice, really."

  "Exorcism?"

  I shrugged. "There are ceremonies that will break the ties. But we can't do it too soon or it will kill him. First we have to strengthen his mind and teach him to fight her."

  "Oh…damn her."

  "You'll need to spend time with him," I said. "Hold his hands, walk with him--force him to re-accept himself and you--someone other than her. Part of, let's call it possession, is isolation. He has no source of command, of strength, other than her, including what used to be his own strength."

  "He won't let me near him."

  "I know. But we have to make him see that he isn't protecting you by doing so, he's hurting himself more. He's taking away his own best weapons. Like the spell contained in the herbs I'm going to give you, you are a source of strength."

  With a deep breath, she put her hand out flat. She didn't look at me or the herbs.

  I put the pack in it. "One other thing," I added. "She's probably left reminders here, objects that he brought home that contain auras."

  "Items that help control him, you mean," she spit out.

  "I doubt she does much active controlling from far away. If she does, he'll have to leave here completely. Otherwise as we start edging him away, she'll know and tighten her control. That could end up destroying him. The longer we can keep her from knowing we're fighting, the better."

  "His briefcase." She bounced up and disappeared down the hallway. "He hasn't let it out of his sight."

  "He's here now? Why didn't you say so? I could have told him all this!"

  "He doesn't believe in witchcraft," she threw back over her shoulder, still moving.

  I let out a frustrated breath. "Great." It was always easy to obtain cooperation from people who didn't believe what was happening.

  I followed her into what should have been a sunny study, but all the blinds were closed. I almost missed the hunched man behind the desk. If he slid any further in his seat, he'd be a puddle on the floor.

  "Witchcraft?" he mumbled. "No. Bad." Small eyes blinked in confusion. His mostly bald head didn't turn my way.

  I went to the large wooden blinds and dared open them a crack. As expected, he shrank back and let out a cry as though struck. "Light is another good start," I said.

  Before I could open the blinds completely, I felt a prickle against the back of my neck. The protective silver at my neck and wrists tingled. Without moving, I looked around the room. Vi was stuffing papers into the briefcase.

  "I don't know what is current and what isn't," she said.

  "Leave it," I commanded. I had fully intended to do a purge of the house, but something in here had reacted badly to the light. It may have acted as a signal. I closed the blinds. "Let's go."

  I grabbed Vi's arm and drew her towards the door.

  Sensing danger, she reached for her husband. "Not yet," I snapped.

  We backed carefully out of the room. Harold's eyes fluttered closed.

  "What?" she whispered.

  "Come on. I want to find a safe place to move him. But first, we're going to need a few things." I had a disturbing thought. "Do you do your own grocery shopping?"

  She nodded. "About half the time."

  "Good, you won't look too suspicious going shopping. First item I want you to get is a frog. In its own aquarium."

  "A frog?"

  I nodded. "Let's get some paper. I have a rather long list."

  We went into the kitchen, a place I figured would be safe, because Sheila wouldn't bother with every room in the house. What were the chances that Harold cooked?

  I took out the compass I had spelled earlier in the day. The oil from Sheila's fingerprint acted as the indicator, and I wasn't after north. Instead of pointing calmly at anything contaminated by Sheila the arrow went haywire.

  "Hmm. Did your husband cook a lot?"

  "Before this all started he did."

  I hunted around a bit, looking for an item that might be tied to her, but the spell acted funny, spinning wildly. "Has Harold bought anything new for the kitchen lately?" The compass refused to give me a single direction. My skin prickled, much as it had in the study. "Let's go."

  I didn't have to grab her arm this time; she was on my heels.

  As soon as we left the kitchen the compass stopped spinning. "Interesting." And a pain in the neck. There was way too much of Sheila around or she had found a way of confusing the spell I was using.

  "Where did you put his briefcase?"

  "I left it when you--what is going on?"

  "There's more of Sheila around than a couple of spells. In order to control Harold, she had to leave something that was her essence, but it's stronger and more prevalent than I expected. I thought perhaps Sheila had sent your husband home with objects, but it looks like she was actually here."

  Vi bristled. "That's not possible."

  I shrugged. "Your husband could have disabled the alarms for her. He wouldn't even have had to be here at the time. I'm pretty sure you weren't here because whatever she did took a lot of time." I was whispering now. "Let's see if I can find a place she didn't mess with."

  The hallway was a mess. I knew the study was, so I headed back to the living room. The compass gave me better vibes except for one plant. "Is this new?"

  "No." She picked it up with insta
nt distaste. "Back yard?"

  "Keep it by the door just in case. Keep it watered too." I wasn't sure it would live in the heat, but if it died slowly enough, it wouldn't matter.

  Once the living room was "clean," we sat down, and I gave her a shopping list.

  She read it twice, and then her back straightened. "We get him out of that study today."

  I smiled. "It might be late tonight, but it should be doable." Then I had to warn, "This isn't the cure you know. It's only the beginning."

  She didn't answer because she was too busy grabbing her purse and heading out the door.

  Chapter 16

  After Vi left, I started in the master bedroom. I was surprised to find almost no aura of Sheila until I remembered that Harold didn't sleep there anymore. Sheila had put enough objects around the house to force Harold into the study. Knowing his location would allow her to call him if she wanted him--and if not, she could soak him in nasty spells since he was sitting there docile and half dead.

  If someone like me tampered with her setup, no doubt, she had spells to warn her. She could fight back instantly--unless I was very, very careful.

  After a thorough search, I finally found a single rune under the bed, but it didn't look as though it had ever been activated. "I hate runes."

  They couldn't be erased; they had to be undone. That could take hours because I'd first have to understand the damn thing. I could probably block it with cedar when Vi brought planks back, but I didn't like leaving it there. I shivered. Sheila was pure evil. I didn't like being in a house that was her focus. My muscles still ached from whatever she had thrown at me the day before. I was still very afraid and nervous.

  "I'll cut a hole in the damn carpet." I didn't have as many supplies in my fanny pack as I usually carried in my backpack, but I had brought the most important things. If Vi followed my instructions, there would be a few pertinent extras when she returned.

  I took out protective herb packets and an extra silver ring for my right hand. The bracelet on my left wrist had a special silver chain wrapped and hooked around one side. I unhooked it, looped the silver chain around my middle finger and secured it. Silver and turquoise were my protection; my tie to mother earth. The chain loops were a series of unique shapes, including a medicine bear and a bat carved from silver under a full moon. The bear was a powerful protector and healer; the bat a shield and stealthy friend.