Witch for Hire

by Conneely, N. E.

  On the bright side, I'd finalized the information for the beginning practitioners' class this morning. Between the insomnia and my tech savvy father, the class material nearly assembled itself. With my website updated, handouts in Rodriguez's hands, and a second teacher, I was ready for students.

  Walking in the Forsyth office I turned my mind to the problems at hand. There was a note from Jones telling me he was in a meeting. Odd, he hadn't mentioned it last night.

  Retrieving a small pebble from my bag, I inspected it physically and magically. It was a good solid rock, cleansed and purified of negative energy. I pulled on gloves before carefully sliding my hand and the pebble through the spells on the bowl of troll blood. I dipped the rock in; making sure it was fully covered in blood before pulling the rock out. I took a moment to check the spells on the bowl; I hadn't damaged them or left any weaknesses.

  Constantly rolling the pebble in the small pool of blood it left in my palm, I started to weave the spell. Focusing my power through a soldering iron, I slowly burned the runes for finding and attraction through the blood and onto the rock. Using the runes, I told the pebble to look for things with blood like what it was absorbing. I told it to glow brighter as it moved closer to something it was tracking. The pebble was to change from a yellow light to a green light when it was within ten feet of the things it was tracking. Finished, I set it on the work bench and penned a quick note to Jones detailing what it did.

  The map captured my attention. The dots had moved and Jones had added a few notes on a pad at the bottom of the table. Ten spare dots had been identified as giants that lived in the county. He'd put stickers on the glass where they worked or lived.

  "Michelle, you're still here." I looked up to see Jones leaning against the door.

  "Is that a problem?"

  "No, I was hoping I'd catch you. I would've called but I left my phone in here, per orders." His smile was gone, replaced by a wrinkled brow and smudges under his eyes.

  "What can I help you with?"

  "I have bad news." Hearing those words I sat, worried, and frightened. "Sheriff Davis has been replaced by Assistant Sheriff Carls until further notice. Before you ask, it looks like Sheriff Davis was attacked last night at Walmart. He was severely beaten with a tire iron and is in intensive care. As of an hour ago he was in a coma and they didn't know when he would regain consciousness."

  "He's in intensive care?" I whispered. Werebears could take serious damage and bounce back. They had a heavy bone structure, and thick skin, before they shifted.

  "Yes. Right now he's in a coma, but they think he'll recover in a few weeks. We're searching for the perpetrator, but the surveillance cameras at the store weren't connected so we don't have any footage of the attack."

  I hadn't known him well, but he had been a good guy and a good boss. "You said Carls is in charge now?"

  He sighed, "Yes, which might be worse news than the sheriff's injuries. Carls is human, and doesn't understand or value magic. He isn't fond of any other races. None of us are sure how he ended up as the Assistant Sheriff."

  "Great. He's gonna be on my case, isn't he?"

  "Yah, I'd count on it. Anyway, I have more news."

  "Bad?"

  "Not great. So, we've discovered it was a large group who plotted to bring several trolls into modern civilization and reintroduce them to the world as a species ready to join the civilized races. The kids we found were hiding the dead troll. The rest of the trolls are being hidden by members of this group who are trying to rehabilitate them. Even with the map, it isn't easy to find them. We've gone over areas the map indicates, and they aren't there." Jones shrugged.

  I held up the pebble. "This might help, but I feel like they have a way of knowing you're coming or they were never there to begin with. Are there any old mines around here?"

  "The area isn't known for caves, but there might be a few places worth looking." He looked thoughtful.

  "The stone will help." I shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

  "Anyway, Carls wanted to know if you could do a spell that showed connections between groups of people. We don't have a roster or emblem." He didn't sound very hopeful.

  "Sorry, no, I can't. Even with those things it would be tricky. Can't you get the information out of the kids?" How hard could it be to make kids talk?

  "We tried. Whoever set this up was smart. They didn't know each other. The kids were a subgroup in the organization and received instruction through a contact. We've been tracking their e-mail addresses, but most of them were only accessed at public places that don't keep track of who used the computers."

  This was a lot of trouble to grab a few trolls. "Someone doesn't want their involvement known."

  "No kidding. I've seen assassination attempts that weren't this well planned. Trust me; we have a lot of people trying to figure out what's going on."

  "Do you have any of my truth charms left?" I couldn't help with the investigation, but I could supply them with charms. Truth charms were keyed to a person by pressing their hair against the charm, and could be used on a different person by exchanging the hairs. The charm turned a different color when a lie was spoken. It was unconstitutional to use charms, or spells, that forced people to tell the truth in police or governmental investigations. Privately, they were a huge seller. Some practitioners made a living selling truth charms of various types to jealous husbands and wives, suspicious mothers, and worried grandparents.

  "No, do you have any?"

  "One. I'll leave it with you. I'll make a new batch and overnight them to you, ok?"

  "Sounds great." He paused. "Before I forget, I don't have the videos for you. The preserve had been cooperating, and then this morning they started telling us how the tapes were federal property and we couldn't see them. I'm sorry, Michelle."

  "Seriously?"

  "I wouldn't tease you about this."

  "Just let me know when you get them."

  "Will do. Do you want to grab lunch?" His stomach rumbled.

  "Sure," I laughed. "Let's go."

  A short drive to lunch, a long wait later, and I was headed to the table. Half of Jones' sub was already gone by the time I sat down and started on mine. "How much do you and the other police practitioners talk?"

  He swallowed a big bite. "A bit, why?"

  "I heard that something like this might be useful." I slid a flier across the table, continuing to eat as he read.

  "You might have heard right."

  Laughing, I asked, "Can you ditch the cloak and dagger stuff? This isn't a big deal." He just looked at the table. I slid a small stack of fliers across the table. "If you know anyone who might be interested give them one. I'm not here to judge, and I've got a great teaching partner. All the information is on there."

  He grumbled a little bit. "Fine, I might know a few people who'd be interested."

  "Thank you, Jones. I know it's a big favor."

  "I figure I owe you."

  "I don't count things that way and you know it." I turned my attention to my cookie.

  "You're a good girl, Michelle. You really are. If I was twenty years younger I'd go after you myself."

  "Thanks, Jones, you're not so bad yourself." I smiled. He was old enough to be my father, but he was a great guy, with a great wife. He didn't flirt; he wasn't sexist, chauvinist, or a jerk. Jones was attractive for his age, and rapidly becoming a good friend.

  "Why don't you have a boyfriend?" He sounded curious, not accusatory.

  "I don't know. I haven't dated anyone in a while, and I don't meet a lot of eligible guys my age. The guys I do meet don't seem interested, or they're on the wrong side of the law." I wanted another cookie now, because my dating life was depressing. "I don't meet a lot of witches, because I don't have a clan. I want kids someday, and most races aren't cross fertile. I'm scared to fall in love with a human. I don't want to watch my husband grow old and die while I'm in my prime."

  "I didn't realize it was a sore spot. I'm sorry."
>
  "You couldn't have known, and you didn't make me answer."

  "Let me think on it. I might know a guy or two. You can trust me, right?"

  "Yes, I trust you, silly. Just don't send me into a date totally blind. They still have to be willing to put up with my strange schedule." Seriously, even if I could find a guy, how many guys would deal with a girlfriend who can't keep a date, can't plan ahead, and has to leave all the time? I didn't think many guys would be thrilled by that prospect.

  Driving home, I was relieved that Jones hadn't realized how much the conversation had bothered me. I was lonely. I wanted more friends, a boyfriend, and people to go through life with. I didn't want just anybody. I wanted people who mattered to me, and I mattered to them.

  Relationships, be they with friends or prospective mates, should be special. Each relationship deserved to be equal, unique, and not compared to any other relationship. The friendship, or more, should stand on its own, and not be held up by any one side. It should resonate with something inside you, connecting with the parts of you not everyone understands. Each relationship should bring many more good times, than it does bad. It should bring you up if you're down, and hold you when you can't hold yourself. Most of all, each relationship should be weighted, against being alone, and if your heart doesn't say two would be better than one, you need to walk away.

  I didn't have a boyfriend because I hadn't found anyone who valued the same things I did. I didn't have many friends because I applied a lot of the same values to friendships. I had great friends, but not many of them.

  I'd just pulled in the driveway when my phone rang. "Oaks Consulting."

  "Michelle, it's Clark from Fannin County. I need you up here now. I've got a mermaid suffocating to death." He read off the address and I punched it into the GPS.

  "I'm on my way, but you know it'll be nearly an hour before I get there." Mermaids needed water to breathe. A few mermaids could breathe on land, but it was an uncommon ability mostly possessed by males.

  "I know, but you should floor it. I think she's got enough water to make it that long, but I'm not sure and this water isn't good for her." I could hear a lot of stuff going on in the background, but nothing reassuring.

  "I can't fix the type of water."

  "I know, but you can keep her alive long enough for us to get her someplace better."

  "Done." We both hung up and I hit the gas.

  I worried the entire way there, breaking speed limits and trying to figure out how a mermaid had even gotten to that part of Georgia. There weren't any large bodies of water, and most mermaids were ocean based. The only mermaids that didn't live in oceans lived in large lakes or slow, deep rivers that emptied into the ocean. Long ago, merfolk were found in more remote areas, but hunting had driven them to larger bodies of water. Eventually, they lived exclusively in the ocean, but after the hunting ended they migrated back to fresh water.

  I pulled my car off the road at the end of a line of police vehicles. I skidded to a stop in front of the first cop I found and snapped, "I'm the witch. Where's the mermaid?" He didn't even try to explain, but took off running. I followed him into the house and down a hall before we descended into the basement.

  "Be careful of the glass," he called back. The floor was covered with a thin layer of water and glass. Sadly, I could also see old blood pools, nasty clothing, and syringes. I followed him past the remains of a disturbingly small tank, several beds, and cages. There was more than a little evidence that multiple species had been kept down here for an extended period of time. Several officers were collecting evidence and photographing everything. It didn't look like they'd been processing the scene for long.

  The officer guided me to a door, gesturing that I should go in. I walked into a small bathroom with two medical practitioners, a witch and warlock, in trances, keeping the mermaid alive. The mermaid in question was trying to submerge as much of herself as possible in the nearly overflowing bathtub. She was pretty, with long white hair, olive skin, and a lovely shape. While trying to keep all of her under she was also covering her rather ample bosom, which her captors must have left uncovered. Most merfolk were modest around humans, preferring some clothing. Her gills, slits on the side of her neck, were fluttering constantly. Clark was talking to her in a low steady voice, "We are going to make sure you live. You're going to be fine."

  "Clark," I said gently. I didn't want to startle him. "What do you want me to do?"

  He looked over at me, "Thank God. We need a bigger place for her, and it needs to be salt water. These two are about done in, and she can't stay in fresh water much longer." This was why he'd needed me. He couldn't do these spells.

  "I can't make salt water out of nothing."

  "There are bags of salt sitting upstairs."

  "I can't do the spell with medics touching her. How long can she survive without them?" The two medical practitioners were keeping her alive, but they had to touch her or be very close to her skin. They wouldn't be able to help her while I was performing magic.

  "Five minutes? I'm not sure. I think if you do the spell and we make the water saltier she'll have a better chance."

  "Get a bag or two of salt down here. I'll work on this." He left as I put my bag across the sink. I pulled out my wand, hoping this would work. I'd never done this before.

  I gently touched each of the practitioners. "I need you to stop treating her for a moment. I'm going to try and make a wall so she'll have more area to submerse herself."

  The guy turned to the mermaid, "When she's done we'll start treating you again. You're going to be fine." They stepped back to give me room to work.

  I studied the traditional tub and shower combo. The way the shower was constructed, one molded piece, made my job easier. Thrusting energy through the shower I etched runes in the plastic along the lip of the tub and up the walls. Directing with the wand, I spun out a thick blanket of magic. Here, I motioned with the wand, take shape from the runes. I want you to stretch from this side, down along this part, and up this side. I want you to seal so that nothing can fit between you. I want you to hold strong and stay. Slowly, much more slowly than I liked, the barrier took shape. After the barrier was finished, I directed a little bit of power to turn on the water, and changed it to a shower setting. I started it on the warm side, knowing the hot water wouldn't last long, but warm water dissolved salt better than cold. She wouldn't be comfortable in the heat but it wouldn't hurt her.

  I turned around, and found not only two guys with big bags of salt, but a small ladder. "Could one of you climb up the ladder and slowly pour in the salt with the shower spray?"

  "Not a problem."

  I moved to give them more space; the bathroom wasn't large enough for everyone. Clark and the two medical practitioners were waiting outside while the salt was added. I motioned the warlock back to the tub, leaving the bathroom so he had space to work.

  The warlock asked, "How are you feeling?"

  "Not well." Her voice sounded strange, but it was audible. The warlock had performed a spell for us to hear her in English.

  "Worse than before?"

  "I don't like the warm water. I feel strange."

  Looking around I couldn't find any clothing.

  "Michelle," Clark interrupted. "What are you looking for?"

  "A shirt, anything she can wear." The poor thing didn't want to be showing off her assets.

  "I grabbed a spare shirt while I was upstairs. For a while we were a lot more worried about keeping her alive than modesty." He tossed it over the top and the mermaid did her best to put it on as quickly as she could. Luckily it was a thick dark t-shirt. I studied the water flow, realizing that it wasn't filling very fast.

  "Clark, we need to bring more water down. This isn't filling fast enough." We needed a lot more water in a hurry. Stretching out my power, I flipped the water to cold because it carried more oxygen.

  "We can haul water down, or put a water hose down here, but I don't have any better ideas, do you
?"

  "No. Do you have a long term plan?" This wasn't going to work for long.

  "I called the aquarium. They're sending equipment they use to transport dolphins and other mermaid-sized creatures. It won't be here for another hour or two."

  "Miss?" The warlock was calling me.

  "Call me Michelle. How is she?" He was still kneeling next to her. She was looking more comfortable and I thought her color was better.

  "She's looking better, but could I reach in without hurting the spell?" I wasn't sure why he was asking, he had to know more than just healing.

  "Sure, just make sure it stays sealed to your skin and reforms when you remove your hand." He flashed a smile at me, and I realized how attractive he was. He was tall, a bit over six feet, with brown hair and dimples. I pulled a card out of my pocket. "If something goes wrong, yell. This is my number in case I'm outside earshot. I always have my phone on me."

  "Thanks," he called out as I walked back over to Clark.

  "Let's get started on the water," I didn't want to think about my lack of love life. We started in the kitchen and laundry room, finding five gallon buckets. I started filling those while Clark looked to see if hoses could reach the basement bathroom.

  Thirty minutes later we stopped when she was fully submerged. She still didn't look comfortable, but that was a distant third to alive and mostly healthy. Clark and I sat on the front steps taking a break.

  "You never did tell me what happened. I think you owe me an explanation at this point." I said. Greedily, I chugged fluids. Water had never tasted so good.

  "We'd been looking in to this human trafficking ring for a while and had finally gotten the evidence for a warrant. We knocked down the door and a few guys started shooting. One of the guys was shooting from in the basement. Officers returned fire. When it was all said and done, several rounds had gone through the glass and the tank shattered. She fell out, along with all the water. Luckily, she wasn't injured. We cleared the room, moved her to the bath tub, and had the two medics look at her. We still haven't gotten all of her information, but we figured out fairly quickly that she needed salt water and couldn't breathe air. Anyway, I called you and we moved the rest of the captives out. That's it. Will you stay to help move her to the truck?" He dropped his head into his hands, massaging the back of his neck.