Charms & Clouds

by Emilia Spring

  “Exactly.”

  She tried to hide a smile and failed. “You better go get Gianna,” she said, glancing at the clock.

  Crap. Yeah I was going to be late. “If you hear anything, call me,” I told Riley firmly, and then dashed out the door.

  I waved to Melody as I dashed out the door, and then hopped in Ruth. Gianna was waiting outside when I drove up in front of the house. “You were supposed to get me at five,” she said pointedly.

  “I know, I know.” I unlocked the passenger side.

  Gianna got inside, looking cross. “I could have died,” she said, her voice ever dramatic.

  “You wouldn’t have died,” I said diplomatically. “Your clothes would've got wet.”

  “Same thing,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “We’re late for your lessons?” Gianna asked smugly.

  I pointed a finger at her. “Yes.” Then I was putting the car in gear and taking the quick route to the main house.

  Gianna laughed. She leaned against the seat as I drove, some of the tension easing from her body. “I saw a ghost today.”

  “A ghost?” I tried not to sound startled.

  She nodded. “It was that lady's.”

  That didn't really narrow it down. “Which lady?”

  “Diane,” she said. She looked at me out of the corner of her eyes. “Is she dead?”

  I stared at her, blinking. “Are you sure that was a ghost?”

  Gianna nodded. “She was the right color, the right version of see-through.”

  I blinked. I made a note to ask Riley about that.

  “I take it she's alive?” Gianna asked, tugging on a strand of her hair.

  “Last I knew,” I said.

  Gianna shook her head, her eyes looking out the window as the raindrops splattered against it. “Magic doesn't make any sense.”

  We were almost to the main house, but I wanted to know. “Do you ever wish you didn't have it?”

  Gianna nodded without hesitation. “I wish I was human.” She looked away, her eyes distant. “It's very difficult to be the only different one.”

  I opened my mouth, and then closed it when she started shaking her head. I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

  “I know I’m not the only witch child,” she said. “But I'm the only spirit witch in the entire town. If that even is what I am.”

  I didn't know quite what to say to that. I wanted to offer comfort, say that there were rough spots and it would get better. But I couldn’t guarantee anything. I don't know what it was like to be as isolated as she was, because I had always felt at home.

  “Would it help to change schools?” It would mean driving her further, but I would do it.

  Gianna shook her head. “I'm fine,” she said. “I have a couple friends here, I like them.”

  “I'm glad about that,” I said. My brain was still spinning in circles. How could she have seen Diane's ghost? Was Diane dead and we hadn’t found out?

  I parked in front of the main house, not surprised to see Marguerite waiting on the front porch.

  “You're late,” Marguerite said imperiously, tapping me on the shoulder with that wicked cane of hers.

  “I know,” I said, a hand raised. “I was talking to Riley and I had to pick Gianna up from home.”

  “Your love affairs should not interfere with your business,” Marguerite said crisply.

  I blushed scarlet to the tips of my ears. “They’re not love affairs,” I said hotly.

  Her eyebrows arched. “You protest too much.”

  “That’s what I said,” Gianna muttered.

  Then Marguerite turned on her heels, immediately heading for the back yard.

  “Do I have to come?” Gianna glanced at me.

  “Come along, Gianna,” Marguerite called.

  “That would be a yes,” I said with a sigh. I slung my purse over my shoulder, making sure that my lightning bangles were in my ears. Then I followed her. It was raining, even though it had slowed to a drizzle. Still, it wasn't very comfortable, and without a coat I shivered.

  “We’re going to work on rain manipulation today,” Marguerite said cheerfully once we caught up with her.

  I nodded. Gianna was leaning against a tree, shivering.

  “Your goal is to keep Gianna sheltered, no matter what.” Marguerite was gleeful now.

  I looked from her to Gianna. “I don't know how to do that.”

  Marguerite looked at me like I was dense. “That’s why I’m going to show you,” she said. “It’s pretty basic, so I expect you to get it fairly quickly.”

  I nodded as if I understood, even though I didn't.

  “It's like creating a guard, except you harness the water that's already in the air.” Marguerite stepped forward, a faint smile on her face. She reached out a hand. I watched in awe as an arc formed over it, the rain hitting it like a curtain and splashing off the sides. Her hand was wet from where the rain had hit it originally, but nothing else hit her hand. Marguerite pointed at Gianna, and the dome went around her.

  “Waterproof,” Marguerite said with some satisfaction.

  I took a closer look at her. There wasn't a single speck of rain on her clothes. Her hands? Yes. Clothes? No.

  “Can clothes repel water?” If so, I wanted to order some.

  She looked almost pleased at that. “Yes they can,” she said promptly. “The woman who made these is one of the last two stitch-witches in town.”

  I looked at her, surprised. “There are not that many of them?” I asked.

  “Many that stitch by hand,” Marguerite corrected. “In the world of electronics, stitching by hand is becoming more and more difficult for people to do. Even stitch witches.”

  Had I ever met a stitch witch? I was sure I had, I just didn't remember any. Besides Mabel.

  So, I wasn't going to dislike her too much for her ability to stay dry.

  “Try the guard,” Marguerite said, nodding to me.

  I tilted my head up towards the drizzle, making a face, and put my hand out in front of me, like I was going to shake someone’s hand. I pictured the rain pouring off the barrier above it, stopped from hitting my hand, protected. Slowly, slowly the rain seemed to get it, protecting my hand. As the rain slanted its movements, some rain snuck underneath.

  “Not bad,” Marguerite said. “Now shield Gianna.”

  I looked at Gianna, apprehensive. She looked back at me, arms crossed over her chest. As I could've guessed, she was on Marguerite’s side.

  “Stay still,” I told her. Gianna grumbled under her breath, shivering a bit in the rain. I shook my head, trying to refocus my thoughts. “Here we go,” I said, my heart beating fast in my chest. I tried to sound more confident than I felt. I mean, at least I couldn’t kill her with rain. Or light her on fire.

  “Imagine the raindrops coming together,” Marguerite said, standing behind me. She sounded bored. Of course she did, because I could see out of the corner my eye that she was shielding herself effortlessly.

  I so wanted to be her when I grew up.

  “Start with just above your hand,” she said.

  I held my hand out, wiggling my fingers. The guard faded the moment I got distracted, the rain drizzling steadily against my hand. It was a struggle for me to bend the rain to my will. No matter what I did, I just couldn't feel it.

  It was a little bit breezy, which made me shiver. In a stroke of inspiration, I closed my eyes and cast out for nearby breezes. Not surprisingly, my favorite one was nearby. It was the happy one, the one that had curled around my neck like a pet. “Help?” I said, my lips moving. I wasn’t sure if I was speaking out loud or not.

  I heard rather than felt Marguerite take a step back.

  “Make a dome,” I said, talking to the wind.

  It listened, and I could hear it almost giggling to itself. It started by spinning in a circle, and then slowly grew into a dome-like structure. This way, instead of trying to mold the rain to nothing, I could mold the rain to the wind structure. T
he wind giggled, continuing to spin in place.

  “You're an optimist,” I muttered.

  I heard Gianna snicker, even though I didn't know what she was snickering at.

  I didn't know if even she knew.

  Finally, I got a dome of rain as a protector. I was able to get the wind to sneak out from underneath it. I remembered the feeling, the way it was able to form the dome and keep the underneath sheltered.

  I took a deep breath and let it go, wanting to do it again. It was smaller this time, it was harder, but I was able to get the raindrops to bend.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. I felt a little bit silly, yes, because I was talking to wind. But surely Marguerite couldn’t be that surprised. She was a witch, after all.

  I turned to Gianna, who was looking disgruntled. “If you could assist?” I asked, reaching out to the wind.

  Gianna looked at me, until I shook my head to let her know I wasn't asking something of her.

  My wind was happy to help, spinning around Gianna and making her shiver.

  If wind could have a gender, I decided this one would be a girl. She closed the dome at the top, and for a moment, Gianna was free of rain spatters. Not completely, because a little bit got through the wind. But I took the wind frame, imagining each droplet flattening out as it hit the wind, until she was surrounded by a shield of rain, not letting any more water through, the raindrops instead fueling the shield.

  “Come out from the bottom,” I told the wind, smiling at it. I was going to have to start naming them, or something. Maybe you could give them names.

  The wind seemed to giggle at that, like it was amused. But it sounded happy, too.

  I looked at Gianna, feeling the tug at my chest that indicated I’d been expending a decent amount of energy.

  “That's enough,” Marguerite said, snapping her fingers. I felt my shield release, and Gianna winced. Except she didn't get wet. I turned to look at Marguerite, who'd obviously put a shield over all of us.

  “Unconventional,” Marguerite said, watching me. “But effective.”

  I frowned. “That's not how you do it?”

  She shrugged. “How it happens is immaterial. It just needs to happen.”

  “Who were you talking to?” Gianna asked, eyes narrowing at me.

  I blinked. Then my cheeks pinkened. “The wind.” Gianna stared at me, even Marguerite stared. My cheeks turned a darker red. “What?” I took a half step back. “It can’t be that weird.”

  “It is,” Gianna said promptly.

  I looked at her. “You talk to spirits.”

  “Yep,” Gianna said, not at all fazed by my retort.

  Teenagers.

  “Do it again,” Marguerite said. “This time, without the wind’s help, if you can.”

  I grumbled, turning my attention back towards magic. I could feel the wind circle around my neck like a choker, a little cool band against the rain. It kept my neck from getting drenched, kept water from sliding all the way down my back.

  I wanted to mention that, but I also didn't. From what it sounded like, maybe I was the only one who made friends with wind like that.

  “Then I want you to make a flat shield,” Marguerite said. “Over all of us.”

  Flat shields I could do without the help, imagining the raindrops hitting a horizontal line.

  “You don't completely suck at this,” Gianna said helpfully.

  I wanted to laugh, but my hands were starting to shake. Whether that was from exhaustion or cold, I wasn’t sure.

  “Astute observation,” Marguerite said. “What about your training?”

  Gianna stumbled over her words, staring at her feet. “I'm fine, thanks.”

  Marguerite fixed me with a beady eye. “What have you two been doing?”

  I was quiet for a few seconds with the rain drumming into the shield above me. “Mostly meditation,” I said. I paused. “Can you see a ghost of a living person?”

  Marguerite looked at me sharply. “What do you mean?”

  “Gianna said that she saw Diane's ghost,” I said, nodding to Gianna. “But Diane’s still alive, isn't she?”

  Marguerite looked thoughtful. “She is,” she said. “How long ago was this?”

  Gianna looked somewhat uncomfortable, and she took a half step closer to me. “Like, a couple days ago?”

  Marguerite made a thoughtful noise, but something in her expression was troubled. “I heard rumors,” she said, something in her voice distant. “This may be the first confirmation.”

  I stood still, waiting for her to get to the point. She shook her head and then looked sharply at us. “I want you to continue practicing,” she said curtly. “I have to go look into something.”

  It was strange to feel her energy leave mine, because I was now maintaining the rain shield by myself.

  I looked at her retreating form, and then looked at Gianna. “How long do you think it would take her to notice if we didn't practice and just went home?”

  “’Bout three seconds,” Gianna said with a sigh.

  “Yeah, I thought that would be the case.” I turned my attention back to the shield. “All right rain, let's make this more difficult.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I sat in the library, searching the books again. It was strange, after spending so much of my life on the internet. Here, books were a more reliable source of information. I mean, not that books couldn’t be edited, but they were harder to do so than, say, Wikipedia. Especially when dealing with Charlotte’s magic.

  “And she said she had to look up something?” Charlotte asked, perched against the table I was sitting at.

  I nodded. “She seemed interested in the answer.” Gianna was at school, so I was taking advantage of getting some research time in. After all, Sam's exam was coming up, and there was so much to do. Plus the fish would be arriving tomorrow. “You have anything on spirit witches?”

  Charlotte looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Let me check a few things.” She straightened up and headed to one of the other shelves. I pulled up Google on my phone. I was googling names on the Council to see what was online about them. It was sort of funny, because none of their magic came up online. Apparently, the internet was magic free. All magical records, apparently, were kept on paper.

  “Why don't we computerize any of this?” I asked Charlotte.

  She was coming back over with the book, the book looking large and rustic in her grip. “This might help you.”

  “You didn't answer my question,” I said, picking it up.

  It was simply titled Witches and Ghosts.

  Well wasn’t that helpful.

  “Do you think in this town of elderly witches, they would be content to figure out the internet?” Charlotte said dryly.

  “I resent the implication,” Diane said from the door. “I'm not that old.”

  I bit back a grin. “You really aren’t,” I said faithfully.

  Diane shook her head, coming into view. Her gaze skittered across what I was looking at, and as slowly as I could, without drawing suspicion, I closed the book.

  “How can I help you?” Charlotte asked, smiling.

  “I was actually looking for Natalie,” Diane said. “I wanted to see how your investigation is going.”

  I blinked at her. “Investigation?” Maybe it was just obvious, or maybe Riley had told her when she was talking about Marguerite’s threats or something.

  “I know you’ve been sniffing around,” Diane said. She smiled, and it was affectionate. “I have something Marguerite asked me for,” she said. “Would you mind coming to mine to get it?”

  “Of course not,” I said. I turned to Charlotte. “Keep this book for me, I'll swing by and pick it up later.”

  “Got it,” Charlotte said. She smiled at Diane, and headed back toward her desk, presumably to do whatever library things kept her busy.

  “So how far away do you live?” I asked her curiously, looking around as we headed out of the library.


  “Oh, just down the road,” she said vaguely.

  Sounded about right in this town.

  She grinned, and it lit her face up. She went from looking middle-aged to looking younger and strikingly beautiful. “I'm next to Annabelle.”

  Ah. “How long have you lived there?”

  “About eleven years,” Diane said, heading down Main Street. “Just after I was appointed.”

  “Who appointed you?” I tried to make it a casual question.

  “Clara,” Diane said with a faint smile. “We were good friends, back in the day.

  “Did you hang out a lot?” I asked, stumbling over the words. Did people in their 40s and 50s hang out? Socialize? I wasn’t even 30, I had no idea.

  “Sometimes,” Diane said. “Not nearly as much as we used to, given how busy things have been.” We turned onto the side street, one I recognized. Before Gianna had come to live with me, she had lived with a reluctant foster mother named Phoebe. I wasn’t going to go over there and tell her she had been wrong, but it was tempting.

  “I'm to the right,” Diane said, leading the way up.

  It was an unobtrusive little house, small and made of brick. It screamed of belonging to a single person, especially with the sleek, elegant car in the driveway.

  “You have this place to yourself?” I asked, looking around. It was much bigger on the inside, and elegantly decorated. The jewelry sparkled, the lights were bright.

  “Just me, I'm afraid,” Diane said politely. “It's nice and cozy that way.”

  I stood in the entranceway, not sure what to do next. It was still drizzling a bit. “If you could take off your shoes and your jacket,” Diane said politely. “I'll wait down the hall.”

  I quickly took my shoes off, and then took my jacket off and hung it over the banister. Okay, and I took the time to scope out the photos. It was Diane with a couple different men, but you couldn’t see whether or not they were happy from their faces. No, their faces had been blurred out.

  She was smiling, she was happy, but the men were nonexistent.

  It sent chills down my spine. If she wasn’t dating them any more, if she didn't like them any more, why were the photos still there?

  Still, I shut them out of my mind as I headed down the hallway. “What did Marguerite ask for?”