I informed it that I could feel magic. It was surprised and somewhat confused. I quickly assured the rhododendron that the magic was not a problem, simply a curiosity. When the plant relaxed, I set it down. It wanted to know what I would do about the magic. I told it the truth that I would investigate and inform it of what I learned. Until then, the plant was welcome to stay.
With that I went back to my work. This time my focus did not waver. I would get home early enough to speak to Landa and formulate an appropriate apology.
Chapter Three
Michelle
I’d known from the moment Ethel called me that this meeting was going to be miserable. Mostly because Ethel was the root cause of most of my recent stress. Her official title was the premier, the witch all witches and all clans looked to for guidance and direction. Now that didn’t sound like a problem, but I’d been born clanless and had enjoyed that state until two short months ago.
Yesterday when she told me where we would be meeting, that misery had upped a notch. Corkscrew and Roses wasn’t the most expensive place we could be eating, but it was a close second. Maybe if she had planned this as a dinner I would have dressed up, but as a lunch, well, she would be getting me in my work polo and khaki pants.
Getting out of the car, I eyed the columns and stately front door. This place fit Ethel even if it didn’t do anything for me. The maître d’ didn’t bat an eye at my clothes, and when I mentioned the premier’s name, he asked me to follow him. As we snaked between tables, I spotted people in everything from jeans to suits. No one was going to give me a second look.
Ethel looked much as she had last time I’d seen her, white hair pulled back in a bun and wearing a plum pantsuit. Her wrinkled face and frail body showed her age, but I knew her well enough to see the sharp mind and iron will hiding beneath the kindly-old-woman guise.
“You’re looking well. How have you been?” She smiled at me as I took my seat.
“Well enough,” I answered. “And yourself?”
“I could be better.” Her eyes narrowed, and I could see that she was not happy with me. “I’ve already ordered. You may get anything you want. My treat.”
“Thank you.” I turned my attention to the menu, grateful for the descriptions printed under the French names. A few minutes later, the waiter came over and took my drink and food order. I handed over my menu and knew things would get interesting.
Ethel studied me, hands clasped together and resting on the edge of the table. “You have disappointed me.”
I kept my voice level and pleasant. “I’m upholding my part of the agreement. I go to clan events, and I’m learning about the traditions and culture.”
“You are upholding the letter, not the spirit. You do not feel a sense of urgency about your education, but I do. You must learn from me and quickly.”
I winced. The agreement was more of a forced truce and not one I wanted broken. My grandmother on my mom’s side had been determined that I would join her clan no matter what she had to do to get me to agree. In the end, Grandmother Gretchen paid for her poor judgment with her life, but not before I’d been irreversibly attached to both her clan and my father’s clan (in an attempt to break the tie to Grandmother’s clan). Prior to that ugly day, I hadn’t even thought it was possible to be attached to multiple clans. Ethel had looked at the clan ties and told me they weren’t going anywhere. I was stuck with them.
Then she pitched the idea that I could be the next premier and change how the clans behaved so that what happened to me wouldn’t happen to anyone else. There was something about a prophecy in there too, but I wasn’t sure I believed in those. Maybe they’d worked in the old days but not anymore.
As much as I loved my simple life, I wanted the clan to obey the law of the land, leave clanless witches alone, and generally stop using scare tactics to gain members, so I agreed to be the next premier. Though from what Ethel had said then, I wouldn’t be expected to take up her responsibilities for years, many years.
“I’m willing to learn, but it needs to happen more slowly. I have a job, a business, and I’m balancing two clans on top of that. I agreed to this, but your last assignment was to read five books in a week. One of those was a law book six inches thick. How much spare time do you think I have?”
“If you agree to tutoring, I’ll reduce the workload.”
“Limit the assignments, and I’ll do some tutoring. I have a life, and I’m not giving that up.”
Ethel leaned forward. “You will learn more in lessons, including things that could help you with your business.”
“I could, but last time you outlined a schedule, it took up all my spare time.” I sighed. “I agree with your mission and how you want to change witch society, but I am mortal. I need time with friends, family, and empty spaces to simply relax.”
“The more you delay, the more likely it is that another witch will be forced to follow the clan’s path rather than their own.”
“I know. I know I promised to help you force the clans to bow to the laws of this land, but you said we had time. You said we had years.”
“Your education will take years. We must prepare you as quickly as possible.”
I shook my head. “You made it sound like it would be more than a decade before I needed to take your place. Perhaps more since my mom could serve as an interim premier and bridge the gap between your tenure and mine.” When I’d refused to give up my work to become premier, Ethel and I had reached a compromise. One of the points we’d agreed upon was buying me extra time to simply be me before I dedicated the rest of my life to helping witches. “What changed?”
The conversation paused as our food was delivered. As delicious as my mini baked brie and steak tips looked, I found that the conversation had reduced my appetite.
Ethel spread her napkin in her lap and studied me. “The entire situation.”
“How so?” My eyes locked onto her face. She didn’t look ill, but that didn’t mean much.
“Michelle, how old do you think I am?”
I’d never really thought about it. I knew she was old, nearing the end of her life, but that was different than having a number. “Two hundred and sixty?”
She shook her head. “I am three hundred and twenty-eight.”
My jaw dropped. Witches were only expected to live for three hundred, maybe three hundred and ten years.
“You… you tricked me.” The crafty old bird had lied to me. She had never intended to give me years to come to terms with my reality. Nope, it had been a way to get my word because Ethel knew I wouldn’t go back on a promise.
“Not precisely.” She held up a hand to hold off my protest. “I happen to have been informed of when I will pass. While we may not have the time you’d anticipated, we have enough.”
I shook my head. “There’s no way. I can’t take over your job in, what, two or three years? Even if I did, they won’t trust me.”
Ethel looked at me intently. “They will. We will make them trust you. As you said, your mother will bridge the gap, but we will make them want you to be in charge.”
“How?” I didn’t believe her. Most witches were overly invested in traditions, bloodlines, clans, and familiar faces. I wasn’t a single one of those. Well, I did have bloodlines but not the history and connections to go with them. Twenty-six years clanless would do that to a person.
“You will take lessons with my trusted assistants and myself. You will read the books. You will learn what you should have been taught at a young age, not because I want you to change—no, you are the change we need—but so you have a weapon. There will be witches who challenge you, and with that knowledge you can hang them with their own words.” She gave me a predatory smile.
I shook my head. “That plan should bring me up to your standards, but it does nothing to gain the trust of the clans.”
“First you will attend the spring convention where we’ll lay the groundwork. However, we will gain their trust at the fall convention where yo
u will be introduced as my successor with your mother, the Minster of the noble Wapiti, serving as the interim premier. Your father will be there too, the first male to be a clan minister. We will show them that tradition can live side by side with progress.”
It was a bold plan. I didn’t see how it had a snowball’s chance in a dragon’s den of working. “They’ll never buy it.”
“Most of them will because they have spent two centuries listening to me. I have brought them out of turmoil and into power. I have given them security and fought for their rights. They see me as an unstoppable force that has, time and again, guided them to a better life. They want to believe me.”
The clans needed to change. Of that I had no doubt. They held their laws above those of our country, and that was wrong. They weren’t the only group that liked to behave that way, but they were the most organized. It was one of the problems of having a dragon for president. If it didn’t bother him, or a large group of people, he really didn’t care.
In this case, the people who were most affected by how witches operated weren’t in a place to protest. Their situations were like mine had been—pursued by a clan, family threatened, abducted, and left with few options. Only most of those people didn’t have my power or my friends. Had the clans not been exempt from some parts of the law, there were a lot of people who’d be in jail, and I wouldn’t be sitting at this table.
For a moment I wished for that reality, the one where none of this had happened and I was still a clanless witch. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t picture it. The image blurred and refused to form. My grandmother, the clans, they had hurt my parents, friends, acquaintances, and myself on too many occasions. Here I was, in a position to make sure no one else ever had to suffer as I had. I couldn’t turn away from that.
“What do I need to do?”
“I thought you would come around.” Ethel’s eyes sparkled. “Eat up. We have many things to discuss.”
I took a bite of my food, which was as good as advertised, and did my best to keep up. Over the next hour, she outlined a campaign that a general couldn’t have improved. I was going to be a very busy witch.
Chapter Four
Later that afternoon I found myself glaring at the bag containing the shoe and mud. I’d figured out that the white flecks were a clumpy powder, but that was as far as I’d gotten.
My current book was useless. I tossed the book on the floor, where it hit the hardwood and slid into its fellows. This was one of the more frustrating things I’d been handed lately. Five different types of magical probes and six books had failed to shed any light on the magic mystery in front of me.
For all my research, both magical and text based, all I could say with certainty was that magic was involved. There were no obvious spells, active or inactive. That was the extent of my find. The problem was, without some indication as to what I would be facing, I was unwilling to do more than the light probes. Magic could act in unpredictable ways. The less I knew about what I was facing, the more likely it was that I would get myself into trouble.
That’s where I was—approaching trouble. The spells that could give me real information carried risks that I couldn’t ignore. For example, a spell to make the powder reveal its nature could trigger an action. Explosions, burns, and curses were not uncommon results. As frustrating as things had been, I didn’t feel like getting blown up.
Since the white powder felt the most magical and was the least familiar to me, that’s where I was putting most of my research. Which sounded great, but it was next to impossible to identify a white powder with a magic aura. Not only was that the most vague description on record, but it left me attempting to identify minutia.
Was it pure white or cream? Did it have a pink cast? Was it an ultrafine, fine, medium, or coarse powder? What did it smell like? That last one I couldn’t answer because I hadn’t opened the bag and I wasn’t willing to get my nose up close and personal without prep work. I had zero desire to accidentally inhale a few particles and end up with an oversized nose.
I had an entire book, most of which I hadn’t read before, dedicated to white powders. I was getting a remarkable education on exactly how many things could be turned into a white powder. Sadly, most of them had some other unique trait that this substance lacked.
Grinding my teeth in frustration, I shoved the bag of magical mystery into a containment box, picked up a couple of books, and headed to the kitchen. There wasn’t any benefit to looking over these in my workroom. I could just as easily curl up on my sofa with a cup of tea and soothing music.
The teapot was on the stove, and I was getting a mug out of the cabinet when the wood of the wall rippled. The mug was abandoned on the shelf, and I quickly twisted my wrist, the familiar weight of my wand dropping into my hand.
Portions of the wood rose up from the rest. A moment later the sections had connected and formed words.
Would you like to have dinner with me tonight? I will cook.
Yes or No
Elron
I snorted. Trust the elf to find a charming, if initially alarming, way to ask a question. I couldn’t blame him for asking that way. After this morning, I’d thought it would be a couple of days before either of us would want to see the other. Plus I’d assumed I would have to be the one to make the next move, but that was doing Elron a disservice. He cared about me and had never been prone to letting unhappiness of any type fester.
“Yes.” I touched the word with the tip of my wand.
The words twisted, fading back into the woods. The number seven emerged.
“Seven works for me.” I found myself smiling. Even after our argument, I was looking forward to seeing him. Though the conversation we’d be having was a different matter.
The wood flattened and returned to its previous state. Now it was a wall, just like all the others in my apartment. Dismissing my wand with another twist of my wrist, I retrieved my mug and went about fixing my tea. Every time trouble happened, which was more often than I liked to admit, I was grateful for the bracelet Elron had given me several months ago. It allowed me to summon my wand quickly rather than wearing it in an arm or thigh sheath. That might not seem like a big difference, but the bracelet worked the same way no matter how many layers of clothing I was wearing. Gloves didn’t bother it either, and they had often made extracting my wand from a traditional sheath impossible.
Tea in hand, I picked up the books, carried them to the couch, and settled in. There was no doubt in my mind that Elron and I needed to talk. Part of me was concerned that our conversation could be the last one we had as a couple, but the rest of me had more faith in him. We were both mature enough to know that every relationship had its better and worse parts. As much as I hated to admit it, I did have a significant contribution to this morning’s argument. I needed to apologize. Who was right and who was wrong didn’t matter. We’d miscommunicated, I’d made it worse, and he deserved better than how I’d behaved.
With an idea of what I would say to Elron and a solid belief that this morning’s argument was unlikely to be the end of us, I selected a book. I had two hours before dinner, which should be about the right amount of time to get through this stack and some of the reading Ethel had assigned me.
With a sigh, I cracked open the first book. After flipping through a tome devoted solely to white powders, I was switching to some that dealt with inherently magical items. However, I still wondered how many white powders would I find this time.
Oddly enough, the first book only had two references to white powder, but neither of them fit my criteria. The second book was an overachiever, clocking in at twenty-eight references to white powder. I marked a couple that had potential, but I didn’t feel like I’d found anything that really matched what was sitting in my workroom.
Feeling like I needed some time to mull over what I’d learned, I switched to some of my homework. After so much reading on the one topic, it was a relief to do some clan-related reading. Ethel had left me with two boo
ks. One was a history of witches, focusing on clan leadership, bloodlines, and traditions. The other book covered obscure magics. I picked that one because it sounded a lot more interesting than anything referencing genealogies.
The table of contents was fascinating reading all by itself. There were items that were inherently magical and could pass on the effects. Most of the things listed were plants, but a few rocks and bodies of water made the list. The list of animals with some type of magic that could be used was interesting. It touched on one or two obvious ones like unicorns and dragons, but it also listed frogs, snakes, a couple of types of cats, snails, and many more.
Since that book wasn’t from my collection, I started it at the beginning. I’d get to the fun parts soon enough. It wasn’t long before I learned that from time to time, an individual of an otherwise nonmagical species could demonstrate magical retention, passive, or active magic. Magical retention was the interesting one. That was when a creature had energy gather in its body, but the power couldn’t be used by the creature. In those instances, the energy store was usually discovered by someone who then killed and processed the animal until they got the magic in a usable form.
The book was unclear about what form the magic would take. The phrasing led me to believe that the form the magic ended up in depended on where it started and what, if any, processing occurred. It did specifically mention extracting the energy into a liquid that could be consumed by a nonmagical person to give them the ability to perform magic for a limited time.
For a magic user like a witch, it was highly addictive but would temporarily boost the person’s abilities. The book went into significant detail on the effects of the repeated use to witches. I had to admit, if murdering a creature to use the power wasn’t enough of a deterrent, the long-term outlook should make most people think twice.
A Witch's Rite (Witch's Path Series: Book 5) Page 3