Charms & Clouds

by Emilia Spring

  There was a knock on the door. I sighed. Exactly how many people knew I was there? For a small pet shop that got few visitors, according to Emmaline's records, it had certainly become a lot more popular since her death.

  And since I’d taken it over.

  I was probably the draw. Everybody wanted to see the new witch. From what I could tell, it wasn't like Pine Lake got a ton of supernatural visitors.

  It was like Russian Roulette, waiting to see who would be on the other side. “Hello?”

  Standing there was a tall, broad-shouldered man with ice-blonde hair and piercing green eyes. He was the sort of guy you expected to see in a fantasy movie, dressed in armor or something. Instead he was in a suit. I stared at him.

  “May I come in?” he asked, his voice borderline polite.

  “I’m Natalie.” I extended a hand to shake.

  He looked at my hand and didn’t move. “Zane.”

  Ah. The new council member I hadn’t yet met. I turned to the side to let him in.

  His eyes swept the shop, his expression almost blank. Either he was bored, unimpressed, or that was just how his face looked. “I hear you’ve been asking questions.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked cautiously.

  He didn’t buy it. “I know you're not obtuse. Not with who you’re related to.”

  I stiffened at that. As far as I knew, my parentage and who I was related to to wasn't common knowledge. Or was it? Could people tell from the fact that that family had taken me in? “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  He arched a thin eyebrow in my direction. Okay, that was a stupid tactic and I knew it.

  “I just want to find out what happened to Clara.” I took a half-step back, grateful he hadn’t come much further into the shop.

  He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes in that creepy way, like I was something he wanted to take to pieces. “Yes, but you can do that without involving others, can't you?”

  Both of his eyebrows were up now. I wondered where he got them plucked. Either that or he’d won the genetic lottery.

  “Just keep your nose out of other people's business,” Zane said, his smile bland. “We’ll get along fine.”

  I lifted my chin, standing steady. I wished that Marguerite had taught me how to use the lightning. It would have been very useful at the moment.

  “I would hate for something to happen to your shop.”

  Shivers raced down my spine, my hands forming into fists. “I think you should leave.”

  He smirked at me, inclined his head. “As you wish.” His bow felt mocking before he turned on his heel, closing the door behind him. What was it with these witches and their dramatic exits? To be fair, it sort of worked.

  Still, I double- and triple-checked the locks when I left, checked the windows, and anything else I could get my hands on. I wasn't going to stop looking into Clara’s murder, but I also didn't want to put my shop - Gianna’s shop - at risk. It was the last thing she had of her family. And okay, I was invested in it too.

  I wanted this to work out. I wanted to find a new home here.

  I double-checked everything one last time before I got my car and headed for the library. I needed to find out more about Clara and how she came to be on the Council. I had a feeling some answers lay there.

  I parked at the library, the clock telling me I had an hour before I had to leave. The door opened before I even knocked on it, and Charlotte stood there with a smile. She was a tall woman, with short red hair and long limbs. Like some of the other green witches I’d met, she had a bracelet that was made of ivy leaves. I wasn’t sure if that was something that signified what they did to others, or just something they liked because it was green.

  I caught sight of a pen tucked into the ivy and hid a smile. That made more sense.

  “What can I help you with?” Charlotte asked, closing the door behind me.

  I wanted to do some research on Clara, but Zane’s threats hung in the air. “What do you know about Zane?”

  Charlotte tilted her head, curiosity written on her face. “Not much. Why?”

  “Did you know him before?” If he had made it onto the Council, there was a good chance he ran in Charlotte’s current or former social circles.

  “He's nothing like Sage,” Charlotte said firmly. Still, she looked troubled. “Why do you ask?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, and then closed it. “He seems interesting.”

  She didn't look convinced, but she didn't push me either. “Just be careful that you're not imagining things.”

  I looked mock outraged.

  She grinned, but she did look sheepish. “I’ve never met anybody with your propensity for falling into trouble before now.”

  “That was because Avery was good at keeping you out of trouble,” I teased. “Or at least from getting caught.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I'll give you that.”

  Even though it was entirely out of context, and not at all related to why I was there, but I had to ask. It was rude, and I should have kept my mouth shut, but I wanted to know. “Does your family know about you and her?” If life had taught me anything, it was that things weren’t complicated just because of sexuality. Charlotte’s sister being arrested for murder probably made things worse.

  Charlotte was shaking her head before I finished the question. “It's complicated.” She exhaled. “I know Avery's family would be fine. But –” She tugged on a strand of her hair, her fingers twisting it. “I don't have many family members left,” she said finally. “It's not that they wouldn't approve, it's that they would disapprove because of the damage it would do to their power.” She looked up at me.

  I could see the uncertainty there, the indecision over what she’d done.

  “Sometimes taking care of yourself is all you can do,” I said softly. I spoke from experience, too. Spending all of your life thinking about what other people thought was a recipe for disaster.

  She nodded, but the way she kept her eyes downcast told me she didn’t believe her own words, much less mine. I reached out and touched her shoulder, then put my hand back at my side. She met my eyes. “Absolute worst case, you can come join our crazy family,” I offered. “You’d never be bored.”

  Charlotte bit back a grin. “Avery said the same thing,” she admitted. She grinned, her face wicked. “I'm not sure I could handle being related to Marguerite.”

  “It’s bad,” I agreed, biting back a giggle. A comfortable silence rolled out between us. “Do you have anything on the history of the Council?”

  “Time span?” Charlotte was already standing, looking at the bookshelves in front of us.

  “The last 40 or 50 years?” I hoped that was far back enough.

  “Follow me,” Charlotte said. She was a good person, one who didn't ask why I was doing this. To be fair, she was a smart person, which meant therefore she could guess. I definitely had a reputation for sticking my nose in other people's business.

  She pointed me to a couple books, which I quickly pulled down. One was a family tree, just with council members. It was a long list of who’d been council members, when, and how they were related. It didn't seem to be entirely lineage based, but at least a couple of the spots were consistently passed down from parent to child. Clara’s had been one of them.

  It was interesting, given the no children rule. Maybe that was why that had stopped. None of the new council members in the past twenty years had been replaced by descendants. Instead it had been about the council making the selection without outside input.

  For some reason that felt important, I just didn't know why. I also couldn't find anything on what had got Marguerite her place on the Council.

  I laughed. Maybe she really had blackmailed her way onto the Council.

  Not that I was gonna follow that train of thought, because that would end with everybody in trouble. What I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me.

  While I’d been flipping through the family tree, Charlotte had
brought a few more books and put them in front of me. I found an article about Clara's being brought to the Council, and then about her rise to head about 10 years later. She was young, well respected. Not quite as young as Diane had been when she got her masters, but young enough. She was also known for being fair, for being kind.

  It didn't seem to match up at all about what I knew about her. If everybody hated her, when had that happened? What had happened that had alienated them so much?

  I couldn't find anything that explained it, and there weren’t many more articles about Clara specifically in the rest of the articles contained in the books.

  “Anything else?” Charlotte asked.

  I almost threw the book in my hands. It took me a few seconds to get my heart rate back down to normal. “I don't think so.”

  “If you want to know more about Zane,” Charlotte said, glancing at me out of the corner of her eyes, “I would go to the southwest quarter of the magical side.”

  I pulled up a mental map of the town. I hadn’t explored Pine Lake enough, but eventually I’d get there. The southwest corner was the part furthest away from the lake itself, so it was the bit I'd visited the least. It was the closest to what I thought of when I thought of Phoenix, with dry, desert grounds, and very minimal green. While there were at least some trees by Mabel's house, there weren’t any out there.

  “Thanks,” I told her, smiling.

  “Just take care of yourself, okay?” Charlotte studied me intently for a few seconds, then smiled a hesitant smile.

  “I will.” I reached out and squeezed her arm gently. A flush crossed her face, as if she wasn’t used to the gesture of friendship. Having met Sage, I wondered how isolated Charlotte had been as a child.

  After Charlotte went back to her desk, I went through the books one more time, looking for anything I may have missed. There wasn't anything there, at least that I could see.

  I stood, heading back out to Ruth. It wouldn’t really hurt to go to the southwest quadrant and see what I could find, would it?

  Okay, it might. But, nobody had to know about it unless I told them, right? Gianna wasn’t entirely too far from where Avery had pointed me, so I had forty five minutes before I had to get her. That totally justified what I was doing. Didn't it?

  I parked Ruth on the outskirts, staring at the neighborhood in front of me. It was a pretty urban area, more densely populated than the rest of Pine Lake. It was almost like a mini city in itself.

  I swallowed thickly, then got out of my car. There were a couple people milling about. I used to do interviews of random people when I was a social worker, but they had been expecting it. I hadn’t tried it with “normal” people before.

  There was a friendly-looking man loitering in front of the gas station, a tabloid in his hands. We were in a public spot, so if he was creepy, I could defend myself. Or I could just strike him with lightning.

  I walked over, hands tucked in my pockets. “Hello?”

  The man looked at me, his eyes skeptical. “Who are you?”

  “I'm Natalie,” I said. “I live on –”

  “Oh, the new witch.” His eyes went from skeptical to interested.

  I fought to keep a straight face. Finally, something my status was good for.

  He watched me for a few seconds, his fingers starting to drum against his elbow. “What do you want?”

  “I’m wondering what you can tell me about Zane?” I tilted my head to the right, trying to project innocent vibes.

  His raised eyebrow told me I hadn’t quite succeeded. “What do you want to know about him?”

  “I'm helping Marguerite pick her selection for the next Council appointee,” I explained. It sounded plausible, didn't it?

  He looked skeptical for a few moments, and then relaxed. “I'd heard you were part of that family.”

  I nodded and smiled, because I wasn't quite sure what else to say to that.

  “Zane's a good guy,” he said. “He's done a lot for the community the past ten years.”

  “How long have you known him?” If the man hadn’t tucked the tabloid up under his arm, started shifting in place, I would have taken notes on my phone.

  “Five years,” he answered promptly. “I'd heard of him before then.”

  “You wouldn't happen to be willing to give me your name, would you?” Anonymity was something people prized. Even when the information wasn’t bad.

  He looked at me.

  “Thought so,” I said with a wry smile. “Well, thanks for talking to me.”

  His face turned serious, and he moved like he meant to touch me. I jerked back, heart racing.

  “Be careful,” he said. “Not everybody is as nice as I am.” Then he turned and walked off, leaving me standing there.

  Well, wasn't that suitably creepy. Not that it would stop me. I had lightning. Lightning beat creepy dudes. I hoped.

  I turned towards the west end, debating how far to go.

  “Natalie.” It was a half-shout, exasperation mixed with trying to get my attention.

  Oops. I turned around, a smile plastered on my face. “Hello, Riley.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I should have known I would find you here,” Riley said with a groan.

  I attempted to look innocent. “I’m just talking to people.”

  She rolled her eyes, but there wasn't a bite there.

  I looked at her, then took a step closer. “You okay?” It was a change of topic, in a way, but she looked genuinely exhausted.

  “There was another victim in my human case,” she said with a yawn. “We still don't have any suspects.”

  “None?” I looked alarmed.

  She shook her head. “We’re still trying to find a link between the victims.” She ran a hand through her hair, tilting the line of her chin up in a way that made my stomach flip. “All the victims died the same way, so it’s obviously the same killer.”

  I frowned. “That wasn’t on the news.” And I knew that, too. Great Aunt Mabel actually liked the news, and made me watch it every night at 7 o'clock. I still resented her for that.

  “That's for a reason,” she said with a wry smile.

  “Then why did you tell me?”

  She winced, as if she’d just realized her misstep. “Because you won't tell anyone.”

  I stood still for a second, shock rooting me to the spot. It was true – I hadn’t expected her to know it. No matter what, I wanted to find who killed Clara just as much as she did, if only to make sure that none of my family was going to get hurt.

  I was getting attached. That could be dangerous. What if they were wrong? What if we were wrong? I didn’t want to find out. I didn’t want to break the illusion that I had found a second home.

  “Are you okay?” Riley took a half-step closer.

  “Got a bit lost in thought.” She was looking at me with concern. She was too pretty for her own good. Too smart, too. Still, I smiled. I did space out sometimes.

  “How are you adjusting to town?” She tilted her head to look at me, then looked at the ground. Her shoes had a light covering of dust.

  I bit back a grin. “Do you know how many times I get asked that question?”

  She rolled her eyes, but it was fond. “If you don't want to answer, you don't have to.”

  I stroked my chin almost pensively, like I was deciding whether or not to humor her. “I suppose, since it’s you.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying I get special treatment?”

  I snorted. “Only if that special treatment comes with being rained on or hit by lightning.” I paused. “Or hit with a dust storm.”

  “I like to think you have more control than that.” Riley checked her phone.

  Taking advantage of her distraction, I pointed to the ground, snagging one of the small winds flying by. It edged closer and closer to Riley’s feet, a small sandy tornado, dust spraying up onto the bottom of her slacks.

  Riley snapped her fingers and it disappeared. “No mag
ic in human spaces.”

  “Whatever,” I said, my cheeks flushing. I didn't really want to admit that I'd been careless, or hadn't even thought about it. I was still getting used to this whole magic thing. I didn’t even know that was a rule. “It’s different,” I admitted. “The weather, the whole magic thing. Becoming a parent.”

  “Did you always want kids?” Riley started walking forward, the steps slow. I tucked my hands in my pockets and followed.

  “Didn’t really have enough time to think about it.” I mean, I had thought about it. “I always planned on adopting, though.”

  Riley chuckled. “Sounds like you got what you wanted.”

  “Maybe.” I smiled faintly. “Up to her whether or not it becomes formal.”

  She made a thoughtful noise.

  “So what do you know about Zane?” I decided to change the subject.

  Riley straightened up. “Zane?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “The new council member?” My heart skipped a beat. “He dropped by the shop.”

  “He dropped by your shop?” Riley stopped moving, turning to face me.

  I looked at her as if she’d gone a bit mad. “Yeah,” I said. “The aquarium one? The one that is as yet unnamed?” I would have to figure out exactly what to name the thing.

  “He's got a good reputation,” Riley said. She glanced at her phone.

  I really wanted to point out that what she’d said answered absolutely none of my questions, but instead I let her get away with it. That way, she could continue giving me information. “Do you really think it’s Marguerite?”

  Riley sighed, but seemed grateful for the change of subject. “Marguerite may be a troublemaker –” I snorted – “but I don't think she's a killer.”

  “Please,” I begged, “please call her troublemaker to her face.”

  “I don’t have a death wish,” Riley sounded amused.

  I winked. “Do you know a lot of stories about Marguerite?”

  She winced. “I started out on the beat – responding to calls, that sort of thing. Most of the time, I was in the magical part of town.” There was a funny smile to her face. It was almost fond. “One of my first calls was your grandmother making a dust storm fly around the house of somebody who had taken one of her pastries without asking.”