Charms & Clouds

by Emilia Spring

  So Marguerite was continuing her streak of ignoring the recommendations for when to learn magic. Marguerite wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what she was doing. And Avery and Sam had said it quite well: she was a rule breaker. I just hoped she knew what I could handle.

  “Does this have its foundation in anything we've done?” I asked.

  Appreciation flashed briefly over her face. “Very good.”

  I stared at her, as if she’d suddenly turned into an alien. And she might as well have.

  “When we create the shields, we’re essentially creating a lighter version of the solid barrier,” Marguerite said. “A magical representation of it.”

  I nodded, processing that. How cool was this? I was learning magic. I could see Gianna watching me, apprehensive, from a few feet away.

  “We’re going to do that, but a much smaller version of it.”

  My stomach flipped and my skin prickled with nerves, but it was excitement, not fear.

  Marguerite looked around, then sniffed the air. “This will be our last wind lesson for a few days.”

  I blinked at the sudden change of topic.

  “Rain is due in a few days, and I want to teach you to work with that.”

  Oh. I was down with that.

  “I want you to get a breeze spinning on the palm of your hand,” Marguerite said.

  Okay, we were back to work then. It was easily the most specialized thing that we had done. I’d been able to get breezes to swirl around me, but not nearly something as specific as on my hand.

  “I'm not expecting you to do it all in this session,” Marguerite said, a tinge of exasperation in her voice.

  I relaxed, relieved. Was I progressing quickly? Slowly? I didn’t really have a frame of reference. I didn’t know how Gianna was doing, either. It was frustrating not knowing, but all I could do was trust Marguerite.

  No matter how mad that seemed.

  “What are you waiting for?” Marguerite asked, her eyebrows arched.

  “Nothing,” I muttered. I had been procrastinating. Letting out a short sigh, I straightened my stance, ensuring that if the winds got out of control I wouldn’t tilt myself over. Plus it made it harder for Marguerite to spin me in a circle if she tried to do that again.

  I tilted my head, letting my eyes close as the sun warmed my face. Instead of holding my hand out, I focused on identifying the winds were around me, the two or three breezes I thought would be the easiest to hook.

  “You just want one of them.” Marguerite’s voice had taken on that sage sort of mentor tone she used when she was teaching me something new.

  I mentally reached out and hooked the smaller of the winds. It felt softer, more playful, and swirled around me without much prompting. It seemed to fly through my hair, making the strands whirl around me, and I could feel its cool touch on my skin. It was a long, lazy spiral around me, like ringlet curls.

  “Try and get it around your upper body.”

  I felt rather than saw Gianna moving to Marguerite’s side, all of her attention on me now.

  I opened my eyes fully again, looking at nothing but getting a feel for how the wind was feeling. Yes, I knew that sounded weird. But the wind was happy. It was amused, playful, like it wanted to do what I wanted it to. It wanted to be my friend. Okay, I was going crazy again. But then again. I was a witch.

  Shoving those thoughts outside of my mind, I turned back towards the wind. “Up?” I asked politely.

  I heard Marguerite snort.

  The wind seemed to hear me, because it rose up from the air. Now it was settled around my waist, but from the way my hair was flying up, it hadn’t shrunk, just stayed the same height.

  Not entirely surprisingly, the wind seemed to be rather literal in its interpretation of what I asked it to do. “What about forming a dome over my head?”

  The wind seemed to consider this, and I could've sworn I heard a giggle. Maybe that was Gianna. Or maybe the wind really was giggling. At this point, I really wouldn’t have been surprised either way.

  “You don't have to talk to it.” I wasn’t sure if Marguerite was amused or annoyed.

  “But I like to,” I said, turning to look at her. “Can't I?”

  Marguerite looked at me as if I was the mad one. I didn't even know what to say to that.

  I closed my eyes, falling back into my magic. The wind was swirling around me, tendrils flowing through my hair and making bits of it stand up on end. It was wiggling through my shirt, down the sides of my tank top and through my belt loops. It was strangely intimate, but in a curious way.

  “The dome,” I reminded it gently.

  The wind seemed to squeeze me gently, almost exasperated, and I almost felt as the wind solidified above my head, closing completely like a guard bubble did.

  I bit back a giddy smile. Good job, I told the wind mentally. Marguerite already thought I was mad. I didn’t want to make her think I had completely lost it.

  “Let's get smaller,” I told the wind.

  It obediently came closer to me, swirling around my torso like a strapless shirt. It tickled my scalp, shoved my hair in my face.

  “Not quite what I meant,” I said, giggling. Almost with a pout it went back to its original pattern. It was like a pet, except a well-behaved one. As well behaved as nature got, anyways.

  Marguerite was watching out of the corner of her eyes, her eyes narrowed.

  I opened my eyes enough to see her, then shrugged. I had a plan, and I had to carry it out. “What about my arm?” I extended it out in front of me. It seemed to think about it for a while, and then slowly extended rolled up my arm, spinning in that long, loose, ribbon spiral. It didn't seem very thrilled to be away from the rest of my body.

  “Just a bit,” I soothed the wind, feeling its discomfort in the gritty way it felt against my skin.

  It was strange, talking to the wind as if it had feelings. It didn't have a name, but it felt familiar. If I came across this wind again, I would recognize it.

  “Can you swirl in my hand for me?” I asked it, my voice soft.

  “Is she talking to –”

  “Quiet, child,” Marguerite said to Gianna.

  Gianna clapped her mouth shut. Her voice was louder than I expected, which meant she wasn’t far away.

  Reluctantly, the wind spiraled down my arm and started gathering in my hand. It was a tall mini tornado, almost a foot high. I could hear the wind giggling. It was having fun, turning itself into various different shapes. First it was a tornado, and then a hurricane, and then, of all things, a hot dog. How did wind know what a hot dog looked like?

  “What about compressing down?” I almost wanted to reach out and pet the wind, but I didn’t. I did wiggle my fingers on the hand it was on, and could feel the wind purr. Hopefully I was imagining that.

  The wind almost snorted. I felt it shake, my control on it wavering. My hold on it broke and it swirled back up my arm until it was around my shoulders, playing with my hair. I could feel my hooks on it starting to fade, and with a smile and a polite thank you, I let it go.

  When I turned back to Marguerite and Gianna, they were staring at me with wide eyes. Well, as wide as Marguerite's eyes ever got. Which wasn't much.

  “Did I do it wrong?” I was caught off guard and a little bit panicked.

  “Has that happened before?” Marguerite asked, looking at me.

  “What?” I asked, dumbfounded.

  “You making a request to the wind, and it listening.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, couple times,” I said. “It's easier to ask, it listens faster.”

  Marguerite made a soft hum.

  I frowned. “Isn't that how it works for you?”

  Marguerite studied me for a few seconds, and then turned back to regard the main house thoughtfully. Then she started towards it, oddly spry for a woman her age. “Magic is different for every witch,” she said. “Don't forget to practice.”

  Gianna came over to me, watching me with narrowed eyes.
r />   “What?” I looked at her.

  “Were you talking to the wind?” Gianna asked.

  “Apparently.” I was going to have to learn how to do that silently. I hoped.

  “Was it listening?” Gianna looked skeptical.

  I winked. “Better than you do.”

  Gianna rolled her eyes, ever the long-suffering preteen. “I practiced some more summoning.” She rocked back and forth on her heels.

  “Yeah?” Gianna nodded. “What did you feel?”

  “The range,” Gianna said with another nod. “I could sense some unfamiliar ghosts.” She looked thoughtful for a few seconds. “I could feel Rosetta at the edge of my range.”

  I looked at her, alert. “Your mother?”

  Gianna nodded. “She doesn't want to move on yet.”

  I blinked at her. Of all the things, this should have been the strangest. But it really wasn't.

  I reached out and patted her shoulder, then turned us both towards the main house. “Let's go home.”

  Gianna looked at me, and then fell into step next to me. “As long as we don't have pizza for dinner.”

  “Fine, we’ll order Chinese.” Compromise was the spice of life.

  “If you don't make something, I'm going to tell Sam.” Gianna’s grin was wicked.

  I scowled at her. “Fine.”

  Gianna just looked smug.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Gianna was at school and I was at the pet shop when Sam burst through the door like a whirlwind. I raised my eyebrows. She was obviously fresh from cooking something, and covered in flour from head to toe. I could see some gravy on her cheek.

  “Yes?” What had brought her here in such a rush?

  “Did you hear?” Sam asked, almost bouncing in place.

  I grabbed a couple tissues from a pack I had found in one of the drawers and handed them to her.

  Sam rolled her eyes, but took one and wiped the gravy off her cheek. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “No, I haven't heard.” I logged off the computer and headed towards Sam. I wouldn’t get much work done until I heard whatever she had to say.

  “Oscar was arrested,” Sam said, her voice dropping in tenor. “He apparently had some jewelry that had been removed from Clara's body.”

  That was particularly interesting. I didn't remember Marguerite mentioning any jewelry when I asked her about it. Or Riley, for that matter. Then again, it was Marguerite, so she may not have been saying it because she didn't want to. Riley could have been keeping it from the public.

  “Is he at the station?” I asked. I glanced at the clock. It was lunchtime, which was probably why Sam was covered in flour. It also meant I still had a couple hours before Gianna got home from school.

  “Yes, but good luck getting Riley to let you talk to him.” Sam scoffed.

  I batted my eyes. “I'd like to see her stop me.”

  Sam snorted. “Girl, please.”

  I wasn’t surprised to see her flit back out the door as fast as she had come in. She had already driven off in her car before I had even started Ruth. Sam was a human whirlwind.

  I hesitated for a second, and then headed towards the magical station. I didn’t know for sure, but I would have bet everything was being kept there.

  Surprisingly, I was fairly certain humans wouldn’t really be thrilled if they found out that witches existed, especially if those witches had been involved in crime.

  The station was closer to the shop than to the main house. I parked and got out, locking Ruth behind me. Then I headed inside and up to the front desk. I was starting to recognize the woman behind it. I thought her name was something lyrical, something music related. “Hello, Melody.” I took a shot in the dark.

  She looked at me, her eyes wary.

  I couldn’t really blame her, because one of the last times I’d been there I’d sort of made lightning rain everywhere. It was somewhat frightening. Not that I took advantage of that or anything.

  “Riley will be here in a few minutes,” Melody said. “If you would please take a seat?”

  I wasn't sure whether it was fear or resignation in her voice. Still, I decided to be kind and took a seat to the side. I went over the notes in my head. Clara had been murdered at the Summit, which meant the council members were the primary suspects. If Oscar had been found with some jewelry that she’d been wearing, could he possibly have taken it off her body?

  That would've meant that Marguerite wasn't the first one to find the body. Which meant Oscar – or Marguerite – had been lying. Why?”

  Riley appeared in the doorway a couple seconds later, watching me with exasperation. “Do you have to come stick your nose in everything?”

  “What else do I have to do with my free time?”

  Her look wasn’t impressed. “There’s plenty,” she said dryly. Resignation flashed across her face. “We’re finished questioning him.”

  “And?” I looked as innocent as I could.

  She rolled her eyes. “Five minutes,” she said, holding up her hand with all five fingers up for emphasis.

  I popped up out of the seat and walked closer, sneaking a high-five before she put her hand down. Riley made a strangled noise.

  Pleased with myself, I followed Riley down the hall. Yes, I could be ridiculous, I was well aware of it. Just because I was almost thirty didn't mean I had to be an adult.

  Riley stopped at one of the interrogation rooms and opened the door. Oscar was sitting at the far side of the table, exhaustion lining his face. At the door opening he looked up, a frown creasing his face before it smoothed out.

  “I didn't take the jewelry,” Oscar said, his voice the rote sort of exasperation from saying the same thing over and over again.

  “Then how did it end up on you?” I asked, sinking into the chair across from him. That left Riley standing, but I had a feeling she liked that anyways. She got to cross her arms over her chest and look all intimidating.

  “I saw her wearing some jewelry at the Summit,” Oscar admitted. “But I didn't take it.”

  “Did you find her body?” I asked, getting to the heart of what I wanted to know.

  “No, of course not.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Where did you hear that?”

  That was as good as a confirmation. It didn't look good for him as a suspect, but I wasn't really sure what the motive was yet. He didn't seem like he wanted to ascend to the top of the Council. Killing her at the Summit was pretty risky, too. He had to know he would be considered a suspect.

  “That’s all I wanted to know.” I smiled at Riley, giving her my best beam.

  She shook her head, sighing in fond exasperation, and then nodded to Oscar. “I'll be right back.”

  Then Riley was leading me out down the hallway, back to what I assumed was her office. She closed the door. “You're going to be the death of me,” she grumbled.

  “That's what makes it fun,” I said, sinking into her chair. “What do you think?”

  She looked at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I do have a partner for this kind of thing.”

  “Yep,” I said with a grin. “Me.”

  “I'm only privileged to share certain information with you,” she started.

  “Because I'm not the police, et cetera. I know.” I waited.

  “What are your thoughts?” Riley asked, looking at me intently. Apparently she was reversing things.

  I did my best scholarly impersonation, leaning back in the chair and stroking my chin as if I had a beard. I could see the open window out of the corner of my eyes, and to my surprise a small breeze started swirling around my shoulders.

  Then I heard giggling. Throwing me out of my thought, I straightened up, startled. I recognized that wind. It was the one that I had worked with the day before.

  It seemed to settle around my neck like a choker, but nice and loose, giving just enough wind that it kept my skin cool.

  Riley was frowning at me by the time I looked back at her. “Is something wrong?
”

  “Not exactly,” I said. I struggled to drag the thoughts back into focus. “I don't think he –” I paused, closing my mouth. No, I didn't think he was innocent. It wasn't like it had been with Sage, when I had an idea of who did it. “Does he have a motive?”

  “Theoretically, that jewelry could have been sold for a lot,” Riley suggested. “Or he could've been trying to get a higher council position.”

  “Money and power,” I said. I thought of the last of the trifecta, one that I both heard and saw a lot of. Love. “Could he have been in love with her?”

  “He's married.” Riley didn’t sound entirely convinced.

  “As if that’s stopped people before.” I had a long mental list I could show her.

  She gave that one to me with a tilt of her head. “I haven't seen any strange check charges on his credit card, or his bank account,” Riley said. “We don't have all of his accounts, but if he is sneaking around with somebody, then he's hiding it very well.”

  “What about unrequited love?” I frowned at the far wall. The wind nipped up to my earlobe, and I shivered. It was hard not to giggle. I wanted to talk to the wind, tell it to knock it off, but I couldn't with Riley sitting there. I mean, she already thought I was a bit off my rocker.

  “What if Clara rejected him and he killed her?” I suggested.

  “But why would he do it there?” Riley counterbalanced. “With only the five of them up there, he would've known the suspects would be limited.”

  “Maybe he didn't mean to kill her?” I shrugged. Riley did have a point with that one. “It could have been an accident.”

  Riley sighed. “I have to get back to paperwork.” She looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “Keep your ears open.”

  I grinned, a giddy feeling bubbling up inside me. “Are you telling me to do your job for you?” I teased.

  I saw the exhaustion slide across her face for half a second. She was really bad at taking care of herself, I decided. I took a guess. “Another human victim?”

  Riley shook her head, but didn't seem surprised at what I said. “Just a lot going on.” She smiled faintly, coming closer. Reluctantly I got out of her chair, letting her sink back into it with a grimace. Then she turned back to her paperwork, apparently done with me.