Witch on First: A Jinx Hamilton Mystery Book 4 (The Jinx Hamilton Novels)

by Juliette Harper

  “Wrong answer, Moira,” I said. “Look at what it’s doing to Myrtle.”

  Moira turned to Myrtle, who sat frozen in her seat at the table, pen poised over the page of her notebook. When Moira touched her arm, Myrtle looked up and smiled, but there was no recognition in her eyes. Moira spoke softly to her in Gaelic and Myrtle responded in the same language.

  “What did she say?” I asked.

  Moira’s eyes welled with tears. “She told me that she is lost and asked if I could help her to find her way home.”

  22

  “If we don't have good information about what makes this orb tick,” I said, “then I have to use my psychometry on it. We have to find the off switch.”

  Mom started shaking her head before the words were even out of my mouth.

  “You can't do that,” she said. “It's too dangerous. This thing comes from outer space, for heaven’s sake.”

  For a minute I thought Chase was going to take her side, but then his eyes met mine, and he nodded imperceptibly. If my incredibly over-protective werecat boyfriend could get onboard with the plan, so could my mother.

  “I'm sorry, Mom,” I said. “This isn't your call to make. In fact, it really isn't anyone’s call to make but mine. I don't work for any of you, do I?”

  After a minute or two of restless shuffling from the group, Barnaby said firmly, “You do not. Free will is one of the most cherished of all Fae principles.”

  Now, let’s just pause for a reality check here. To be honest, we all kind of do work for Barnaby. After all, he is the founding Fae father in our merry little band, but Barnaby was making it clear he didn’t intend to pull rank one way or another, which amounted to a stamp of approval for what I wanted to do. After that, there wasn’t much the others could say. Plus, Barnaby’s confidence in me bolstered my own resolve.

  Honestly? I was scared to death to touch the Egyptian Magic Eight Ball from Planet X.

  There was no way in hell I was going to admit that, though, and I couldn’t see any other option.

  Instead, my voice fairly rang with determination when I said, “Then let’s do this thing.”

  Moira lowered her voice. “I believe it would be safer if Myrtle were in Shevington when you examine the object,” she suggested. “We have no idea how your connection with the orb might affect her.”

  “We can handle that,” Furl volunteered. “I want to go over the file on the deaths in Seattle last year anyway. It would be our honor to escort the aos si to The Valley. Just give us a minute to change.”

  The triplets gathered up their folded clothing and disappeared into the stacks, re-emerging in a few minutes as humans — and well-pressed ones at that. While they were in feline form, Darby did their laundry.

  Furl approached Myrtle, who was still sitting at the table with a dreamy expression on her face. He bowed low from the waist. “Dear lady,” he said, “would you care to take a walk with us?”

  Myrtle smiled at him. “Are we going some place nice?” she asked.

  “We are,” he said. “A beautiful valley filled with flowers.”

  Her next question brought tears to my eyes. “Will I know anyone there?”

  I bent down beside her chair. “Myrtle,” I said, “you may not remember them right this minute, but you know everyone in The Valley, and they all love you. The boys will take good care of you.”

  She gave me the same vacant, but radiant smile. “If you say it’s alright, then I’ll go.”

  The complacent absence of all thought and purpose stood in complete contrast to Myrtle’s usual vibrant wit and intellect. The change in her broke my heart at the same time that it frightened me deeply.

  Myrtle stood up and accepted the arm Furl offered to her. We watched in silence until the four of them were out of earshot. I turned to Moira. “Will she be better in The Valley?”

  “Yes,” Moira said. “The greater the distance she attains from the orb, the more her mind will clear.”

  For the next hour, we all puttered around the lair waiting for Moira and Barnaby to detect the portal’s activation. As soon as Myrtle was safely in The Valley’s timestream, we began.

  The Orb of Thoth lay against the hearth where it landed when the triplets rolled it out of the stacks. Moira picked it up carefully with both hands. “What do you feel?” Barnaby asked.

  “It weighs more than its size would suggest,” she said, “and there is definite power, but I feel no negative effects.”

  She carried the sphere to the work table and sat it down. Surprisingly, it sat perfectly still. Either the table was incredibly level, or the orb knew something was up.

  I pulled back a chair and sat down. Tori positioned herself beside me.

  “Okay,” I told her, “if I get into trouble in there, you pull me out.”

  “Don’t worry,” she assured me. “Just call out like you did with the chessboard. I’ll hear you.”

  From across the table, Mom tried one last time to get me to reconsider. “Jinx, please,” she said, “you’re not ready for this.”

  All my life, Mom had fed me variations of that same sentiment. As a grown woman and with a better understanding of what my mother lived through, I understand the sources of her hypervigilance, but over the past few weeks leading up to that moment, I’d watched a new confidence replace her usual trepidations. I wasn’t about to let her — or myself — backslide.

  “Stop it, Mom,” I said firmly. “If you keep waiting to be ready, that’s all you’ll do, wait. Myrtle needs our help now. I’ve spent hours practicing my psychometry. I can do this, and I trust Tori completely to pull me out if anything goes wrong. If you can’t watch this, maybe you better go upstairs.”

  Her lower lip trembled for just an instant, but then Gemma put a hand on her back. Mom turned and looked at her best friend. “She’s not you, Kell,” Gemma said softly, “and Tori’s not me. Myrtle was right when she told you they have to walk their own path. It’s our job to support them, not to try and stop them.”

  Tears brimmed in Mom’s eyes, but she nodded — a short, jerky, thoroughly unhappy nod, but a nod all the same. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

  Turning back to me and swallowing hard, she nodded again.

  Softening, I said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  Using the techniques Myrtle taught me, I drew in several deep breaths and stilled my mind, creating an empty space for another awareness to enter. Unlike my encounter with the chessboard where I’d foolishly gone in unprepared, I took my time. When I felt ready, I reached forward and laid both hands on the shining curved surface.

  The cold struck me first, not like the wind but as something solid and real. Currents of torrid heat snaked through the icy atmosphere. You’re probably waiting to hear that it all looked like the interior of an Egyptian pyramid from some mummy movie. Sorry. I walked through bare rooms with walls as black as the stone itself. Some unseen force guided me in ever-tightening circles toward the center of the sphere. When I reached it, a man stood waiting for me.

  “Are you Thoth?” I asked.

  “I am a representation of the one called by that name in your reality,” the figure replied. “You may refer to me as you please. Why are you here, witch?”

  Okay, so introductions weren’t necessary.

  “The orb is harming my friend, the aos si,” I said, getting right to the point.

  With an unreadable expression and a flat voice, Thoth said, “You seek to destroy this place.”

  “Not if I don’t have to,” I said. “I just want to help my friend.”

  “Do you know why the orb was created?” he asked.

  I really wasn’t in the mood to play 20 metaphysical questions, but it didn’t look like I had much choice.

  “I’ve been told it was made to balance the forces of good and evil.”

  “This is a place of opposites,” Thoth said. “It was conceived as an experiment by the one whose image I represent to mix in harmony the forces of heat and cold, ligh
t and dark. The material from which the sphere is forged was made in the depths of the universe in the unmovable blast that set in motion the momentum of all that is. Your philosophers would call it a product of the First Cause.”

  “Isn’t that just another name for God?” I asked.

  For an instant, a flicker of a smile threatened to mar his impassive features. “Man has made many gods,” he said, “but there is only one universal force. That is the First Cause.”

  “Okay,” I said, “so the orb is really, really old. So is my friend, and this thing is killing her.”

  “No,” Thoth corrected, “it is killing her powers.”

  “Same difference,” I snapped.

  “You cannot reconcile in your mind the very opposites from which this was conceived,” he said. “That is your limitation. The one you call Myrtle has always been known to you as a source of great power. Your mind cannot conceive of her in a diminished state.”

  So, he did know what was going on.

  “I love Myrtle no matter what her state,” I said.

  “But you prefer that she be at her full capacity to counter your fears and insecurities,” Thoth countered. “The opposite of fear is valor. Do you have valor, witch?”

  When it doubt, bluff.

  “Try me,” I said.

  It didn’t work.

  “Bravado is not valor,” Thoth said, “but it is a step in the correct direction. To help your friend, you will be called upon to summon bravery that at the moment you do not dream you possess. Your answers do not lie with me, but I have a request of you.”

  Oh, perfect. “I can’t help you lady, but how about you do something for me?”

  “What is it?” I asked, tight-lipped.

  “Hide this orb where no one can find it,” Thoth said. “It was appropriated by the wizard named Chesterfield and has long languished in his possession. He used it for a minor purpose, as a weapon, not as an object of evolved contemplation. He must not be given an opportunity to reconsider his understanding.”

  “I’m the one who doesn’t understand,” I admitted.

  “That is of no matter,” Thoth said. “Your Alchemist comprehends. She is correct when she says that removing this material from the proximity of the spirit known as the aos si will alleviate the damage being done to her. But that is not the greatest concern.”

  “It’s the greatest concern to me,” I said.

  “You must broaden and deepen your concerns, witch, if you are to fulfill your purpose,” Thoth lectured. “Mark my words, Irenaeus Chesterfield must not recover the orb. Should he ever come to understand its true potential, all will be lost.”

  Before I could ask anything else, widening eddies began to churn around me. I plunged into a morass of searing temperatures that alternately froze and burned my body as I fought to stay upright. This time, the current pushed me away from the center toward the shell of the sphere until I found myself flattened against a black wall, straining to get out.

  “Tori!” I called. “Now!”

  Suddenly I was in two places: inside the orb and sitting at the table in the lair. I felt Tori’s hands resting on mine and unconsciously reached for our shared power. A wave of blue energy engulfed us both, giving me the strength to pull away. We sat there for several seconds, staring into each other’s eyes. I realized the physical connection allowed Tori to see and hear everything I’d just experienced. As the light around us dissipated, she said, “Do you have any idea what the hell that guy was talking about?”

  “What guy?” Mom said worriedly.

  “Jinx?” Chase asked, cautiously laying a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Moira?” I said shakily.

  “I am here,” the Alchemist answered, stepping into my line of sight. “What is it?”

  “We have to get this Orb as far away from Myrtle as we can,” I said. “And we can’t ever let Chesterfield get his hands on it again.”

  23

  Barnaby and Moira made me carefully recount every nuance of my exchange with Thoth. I described the interior of the sphere in detail and tried to remember the exact words Thoth used. When I finished, Tori said, “Now, wait a minute. Is this guy actually living in there?”

  Moira shook her head. “I don't think that is the case. It sounds as if Thoth bound a portion of his essence to the sphere, perhaps even at the time of his death.”

  Tori frowned. “I don't get it,” she said.

  Opting for language I knew she would get, I said, “Princess Leia. Hologram. R2D2.”

  “Oh!” Tori said. “Why didn't you just say so?”

  Now it was Moira's turn to look utterly confused. “I have no idea what the two of you are talking about,” she said.

  I couldn't resist. “Now you know how we feel most of the time,” I replied.

  Moira laughed. “Fair enough,” she agreed. “But I will correct one point. I do not think what you encountered in the sphere is a hologram. I am familiar with that aspect of human technology. A hologram is a projection of recorded data. The being you encountered is more that that.”

  “More how?” I asked.

  “He is, I believe, a guardian consciousness for the artifact,” she said. “Judging from your report of the verbal exchange, the Thoth that resides in the orb not only reacted to you and correctly extrapolated from your statements, but he injected observations of his own. While the artifact itself is not sentient per se, it does contain an element with awareness.”

  “And it's been listening to us,” Gemma added.

  “Yes,” Moira said, “which led to the two recommendations Thoth offered: remove Myrtle from the proximity of the sphere and remove the sphere itself from the reach of Irenaeus Chesterfield.”

  As simple as those two things might be, they gave us a great deal of information. The orb did cause Myrtle’s odd behavior, which gave us the hope that she could be returned to her usual self. And now we knew that Chesterfield had been working with Brenna. But, did he hire the hitman who killed Fish Pike? We still had to deal with that problem, but right now, we needed to find some place to stash the orb.

  “Where can we put the artifact so Chesterfield can't find it?” Mom asked.

  Barnaby already had an answer to that question, one that was both startling and brilliant. Since the merfolk were asking for sanctuary in The Valley and their ambassadors were already on site, Barnaby wanted to ask them to carry the orb into the coldest depths of the ocean.

  “The material from which the sphere has been crafted should be impervious to the extreme conditions,” he said, “and should we need to retrieve the orb, the merfolk can easily return it to us. They are so reclusive by nature, it has taken them several hundred years to even suggest forging a relationship with Shevington.”

  “You don't think Chesterfield can get to them?” Chase asked.

  “Unlikely,” Barnaby said. “The merfolk are motivated by strict ethics. Remember that their realm has suffered significant damage from the activities of man. Watching the pollution of the waters they love has made the merfolk completely opposed to altering the workings of any natural system. Magic is such a system. As a Creavit, Chesterfield goes against the natural magical order.”

  I could understand the merfolk’s position, but something bothered me. “If the merfolk are against altering natural systems, why are they agreeing to the creation of a saltwater environment in the high valley?” I asked.

  “They are desperate,” Barnaby answered. “Their seas are filling with plastic and garbage. Their coral beds are dying. The merfolk want nothing more than a place to live at peace with nature. Man is making it impossible for them to do that in the oceans they have inhabited for eons. We can offer them an alternative.”

  “And where are you going to suggest they hide the orb?” I asked.

  “I will leave that to their discretion,” he said, “but the ocean depths should be more than sufficient for our purposes.”

  I still wasn’t sure. “How deep are we talking?
”

  Tori reached for her iPad and typed a search phrase. “Holy crap,” she said as she scanned the screen. “The Marianas Trench is 6.8 miles down.”

  “Other than returning the orb to the void of space from whence it came,” Barnaby said, “I can think of no more remote location on earth than the deep ocean where we can place the artifact for safekeeping.”

  You have to admire Barnaby. The man thinks big.

  Moira agreed that the plan was a good one, but said she would need to discuss the terms with the merfolk ambassador back in The Valley. Taking the sphere there would place Myrtle in its path again, which none of us wanted to do.

  “What if we found a temporary hiding place?” Chase asked. “When Myrtle comes back here, we can take the orb to The Valley through one of the portals in the mountains.”

  Barnaby agreed that would work, which is when Beau volunteered his obelisk in the cemetery. “My ghostly friends in the graveyard will guard the obelisk and apprise us of any activity in its vicinity,” he said. “It should only be a matter of hours before the orb can be transported to The Valley.”

  While Myrtle and Barnaby returned to Shevington to conduct the negotiations, Beau and I would stay near the cemetery in case we needed to get in fast to protect the orb. Glory would send her usual report to Chesterfield, minus any reference to the discovery of the orb. The message would make it seem as if everything was status quo in the shop.

  Glory was proving to be not only a flamboyant, but an interesting addition to the team. After Barnaby had enlarged her to 11.5 inches, she swore complete devotion to our cause and promised to do anything she could to help us. She also supplied a highly useful piece of information.

  The chessboard could not hear what we were doing by itself. It could only actively extract information from people who played a game with its pieces. All the reports sent to Chesterfield that reflected our conversations came directly from her.

  Now that Glory understood we needed her to act as a double agent of sorts, she embraced the role enthusiastically. Tori had ordered the Barbie clothes Glory requested from Amazon the evening Rodney showed up with Glory dangling out of his mouth.