She begins flipping through the pages, trying to find the right place to read from.
While she works, I lift my brownie to my lips. Then, thinking of Cora’s words, I put it back down. I look at it, and notice a vein of caramel, glistening along the tops of the dessert, in all of its sticky, gooey, sugary glory.
I pick up the brownie again and take a big bite.
Mmm!! Delicious.
My taste buds start doing that chocolate celebration dance that they do when I cave into my cravings. Yes, I might get a stomach ache later. But right now, I’m willing to take that risk. As I enjoy the taste of chocolate, Marley starts to read.
“Cycle Two: The Banishing Spell,” she says.
She clears her throat. “Dear witch-to-be. Now is a time to celebrate your progress. You have discovered Love. You have unearthed your Power. You have opened yourself up to the Great Magic of the Universe.”
“Amen to that,” Annie says softly, as her needles click together.
Marley goes on. “Now, Dear Child you must learn to set your limits. You must learn to Banish.”
“This really is good timing,” I say.
“Will you guys just listen for a minute?” Marley asks.
“Right. Sorry.” I zip my lips.
Marley clears her throat and begins again. “The Banishing Spell is one that often goes wrong. Because of this, you must practice, practice, practice! Practice carefully, Dear One. Practice with small objects at first, until you are ready to use your skills on matters of great importance in your life.”
I’ve read these words many times, but now as Marley reads them, they sound kind of new. I think it’s because they’re so packed with meaning.
Marley continues. “As you enter this cycle, take great care. Many witches find this the most difficult cycle to master. Remember the three P’s: Patience, Precision, and Playfulness. Take your time. Start small and follow the directions carefully. Don’t give up. And above all else, Dearest witch-to-be, keep a playful attitude in your heart.”
Marley stops reading.
I take the opportunity to speak. “Playful! How can we be playful if we know that the banishing spell often goes wrong?” I ask with frustration.
No one at the table offers up an answer.
Click-click-click go our knitting needles.
Finally, Cora speaks. “I guess we just have to do our best. I mean, we have to try to keep a positive, upbeat attitude about—”
“About murder?” I interject. I know I’m not being the most cooperative coven member at the moment, but I can’t help it.
Annie sighs. “We just have to do what we can, Penny. Your little green book seems to have a great deal of wisdom in it. It’s up to us to follow the instructions, not to argue. What’s next, Marley dear?”
With that, our little group is back on track. Thanks, of course, to grandmotherly, wise Annie.
Marley clears her throat. “Okay, let’s see,” she says, as her eyes skim the page. “Okay, here’s the directions for putting the spell together.”
“Casting,” says Cora.
“Hm?” Marley looks up from the page.
“Oh,” says Cora. She finishes chewing her almond, and swallows. “They’re directions for casting the spell. That’s what witches do. They cast spells. And we’re witches.”
“Almost,” I say.
“We’re getting there,” Annie adds.
“Yes. Casting the spell,” says Marley, returning her eyes to the page. “Here’s how we do it. Okay, this is what it says.”
She clears her throat and then begins to read aloud:
“Focus a beam of light on that which you wish to banish. Speak this magical poem, with precision. While speaking this poem, move your hands, palms out, counterclockwise around the visual field of the light around the object. Your palms must be painted with a counterclockwise spiral symbol. Use charcoal, the juice of an elderberry, or another natural source of paint. In your mind’s eye, imagine erasing the banished object or being.”
She stops to take a sip of tea.
“Sounds pretty straight forward,” Cora says. “Clear, precise instructions. I like that.”
“There’s more,” Marley says. “Ready?”
We all nod.
Marley reads on.
“The effects of the Banishing Spell will be multiplied according to how many witches are present. The spell can also be enhanced through the use of natural moonlight. The light of the full moon is especially potent. If no moonlight is present at the time the spell is to be conducted, candles may be used as a substitute.”
“When’s the next full moon?” I ask.
Cora pulls a little date book from her purse. Leave it to Cora to have the phases of the moon in her day planner. She’s definitely the most organized, out of the four of us. She runs her manicured finger down the page. “Saturday the twenty third,” she says. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s also the date of the Hillcrest Historical Society’s Bonfire Dance,” I say.
“I think they plan it like that,” Cora says with a nod. “It’s always on a Saturday close to a full moon. This year it lined up exactly.”
Marley squints down at her photocopied pages. “Hang on—there’s a note here. It’s in really fine print. I can barely read it.”
We all wait expectantly while she works out what the words say.
After a few minutes of squinting, she speaks. “Okay. I think I’ve got it. This fine print says: ‘Note: if the item you wish to banish is not tangible, you may capture the essence of the item with a symbol. This may be a word or a picture.’”
She pauses and then continues. “Then it says, ‘Thus, you may banish such intangible items as feelings, memories, or those things that are too large or disperse to be illuminated with light. A word of caution: You must practice with small, tangible items before moving onto this more advanced form of the Banishing Spell. A great deal can go wrong when working with symbols. Be exact in your use of symbols. Think carefully about the repercussions of your banishments.’ The note ends there.”
I frown. “So—we could banish feelings? Like sadness?” I ask. “That sounds kind of nice.”
Marley sets down the paper. “Yes, I think so, but it also says to think carefully about the repercussions of your banishments. If we got rid of sadness forever, wouldn’t that make life kind of boring?”
“I never feel sad to begin with,” Cora says.
“Not ever?” I ask. I lost my mother ten years ago, and I feel flashes of sadness on almost a daily basis. It happens around my apartment the most, where almost every single nook and cranny holds a memory of her.
“No, not really,” says Cora. “I think I’m just a naturally happy person.”
“You think?” Marley says sarcastically
We all laugh. Cora is known for being almost ridiculously cheerful and upbeat.
Our laughter dies down, and Marley says, “Your mood must be genetic, Cora.”
Thinking of my conversation with Max, I shake my head. “Max says that humans give genes too much credit. He says that we always have a choice.”
“Well then,” says Cora. “I guess I’m good at choosing to be happy.”
“I’d like to choose that more often, too,” I say. “Maybe I could use this spell to help me choose to be happy... you know, if I banished sadness.”
“Possibly,” Annie says gently. Out of all of our group members, I know she’s the one who understands sadness and loss in the way that I do.
She also lost someone close to her; her husband died several years back. Annie meets my eye, and just that contact makes me feel suddenly much better. I sense that she understands me.
Her eyes twinkle as she peers at me over her reading glasses. “I understand what you’re saying, Penny,” she says gently, “but I just don’t think that’s the best place for us to start.”
Marley speaks up. “The book says we have to start with something small and tangible. Anyone have any ideas?”<
br />
I try to think of something small worth practicing on, but I’m too distracted. I shake my head. “I just want to get right to the werewolves. I can’t think of anything else. Not with that white Lux wolf running around on the loose.”
“We have to start smaller,” Cora says.
“I know.” I place my chin in my hands, and slump over the table.
“Something small... something tangible...” says Marley, thinking aloud.
Annie grins. “I have it!” she says.
“What?” Marley, Cora and I ask in unison.
Chapter Eight
Annie leads Marley, Cora and I through the cafe, towards the kitchen.
I’ve been so absorbed in our conversation that I’ve almost completely forgotten about the other people in the cafe. As we follow Annie towards the back of the cafe, where the kitchen is located, my eyes wander over the various townspeople who are clustered around tables. I recognize everyone and give a few waves as we pass through.
They’re so oblivious! I think, as I watch Janine, who works as a bartender at The O.P., sip her coffee and peruse the paper.
Sure, they’ve undoubtedly heard by now about the out-of-towner found dead at the inn. But they have no idea that Marley, Cora, Annie and I are about to practice a spell that might save this town from being terrorized by a real, live werewolf.
They have no idea that there are other realms out there, crawling with magical beings—both good and bad.
They think that this is all that there is!
I used to think the same thing.
Now, I know what’s out there.
Is that a good thing? Was I better off before I knew?
Ignorance is bliss, as they say....
We finish weaving through the tables and slip behind the counter. Annie pushes aside a curtain that’s draped across an otherwise open doorway, and we step into the cafe’s small kitchen.
It’s warm back here, and it smells like all things baked and delicious.
Pie. Cookies. Crumb cakes. Scones. Muffins.
I inhale. I wish that I could buy a candle with this scent. I’d burn it in my baked-goods deprived apartment.
“There,” Annie says, pointing towards a row of industrial shelving that lines one of the walls. On it, I see baking ingredients.
“Flour?” asks Marley.
“Sugar?” asks Cora.
“Annie, we can’t banish your baking ingredients!” I say.
“No!” Annie laughs. “The ants! That little row of ants, marching into my jar of honey! I’ve about had it with them. This is the second perfectly good jar of honey that they’ve ruined. I keep sealing it up and they keep finding a way in. I’ll have to toss it out. Unless... we could just banish the ants.”
I step in closer. Indeed, I see a little parade of black ants walking up the side of a glass, twelve-ounce jar of local, wild-clover honey. I know how local honey is. No wonder Annie wants these ants gone!
And yet... they’re living creatures. I watch them move. As I watch, I say, “Do you think it’s going to kill them? The Banishing Spell, I mean....”
“I don’t know,” Annie says.
“Maybe it just removes them from the premise,” Cora says, hopefully. “No harm done.”
I like that idea. “So, we’ll say that weird little poem and wave our hands in the air and then voi-la! The ants will fly off of the honey jar and go back to wherever they were before they started out on a quest for honey?”
I step towards the shelf and bend down, placing my hands on knees.
My face is almost pressed up against the glass. I’m watching the little ants move steadily up the face of the jar. There’s indeed a crack between the lid and the jar’s glass sides, and the ants dive into the amber pool of honey one by one.
They’re actually kind of cute.
Marley joins me. I feel her shoulder press into mine, and we both become mesmerized by watching the parade of ants.
Soon I feel Cora’s shoulder press into mine, on my other side. I feel Annie’s presence behind me. We’re all crowded around the jar of honey.
“They’re kind of cute,” I say.
“In a weird way,” Marley adds.
“I wouldn’t want them in my house,” says Cora, “but I guess they’re not so bad.”
“They’re just ants!” cries Annie.
“But they’re alive,” I say. “I don’t think we should practice on them. Not without a better understanding of the spell.”
“I don’t feel good about it either,” Marley says. She straightens up.
Cora straightens up too and steps back. “I suppose practicing on something that’s not alive would be better,” she says. “But for right now I’d really better get back to the office. Hiroku doesn’t mind when I leave the office for lunch, but it’s been over an hour...” I stand up too.
Annie sighs. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to live with these ants for a little while longer.”
“It’s their lucky day,” I laugh.
I turn and see that Cora is readying herself to leave. She’s pulling a sunshine yellow knit scarf from her purse and wrapping it around her neck, so that she can stay warm on her walk down to the law offices.
Once she has it tucked around her neck, I wrap my arms around her in a hug. “You’re leaving?” I ask.
“I have to,” she says.
I give her a squeeze. Even though we give each other a hard time once in a while, I really do love Cora and I know that she loves me.
She squeezes me back. “I guess I’ll practice the spell at home tonight, after work,” she says.
I release Cora, and Marley steps in to see her off with a hug, too. We like to wrap up our meetings with hugs. That’s just the kind of coven we are.
Marley speaks as she hugs Cora. “Send us a group text, and let us know how it goes,” she says.
Annie speaks up. “Why don’t we all practice tonight, and report back to the group? I suggest we meet again tomorrow. We can discuss the timing tonight. We need to deal with these werewolves, the sooner the better.”
We all agree. Soon, we’ve parted ways, and I’m heading down the sidewalk, pushing my bike along, not quite sure where I’m going.
The autumn day is crisp. The sun is shining, but there’s a little chilly undertone to the air. Not quite a bite, but just a little reminder that summer’s well over.
I’m still wearing my black sweatshirt, and I pull the hood up over my head. I can see why Cora bundled up in her scarf. It’s getting to be the time of year when extra layers will start to feel nice.
As I walk along beside my bike, I start thinking. There’s so many things that feel urgent: I want to figure out how to track down the dangerous lawless Lux wolf. I know that I need to touch base with Dawn and Neville to see how they’re holding up, and I also want to communicate with the Hillcrest PD. I need to tell them about Sarah Pelletier's strange visit to the inn last night. I also want to see if Marty and Dawson are still in custody. Plus, I suppose I ought to fill out that darn police report, though I don’t want to.
But visiting the police department would mean facing Chris, and I’m not sure that I’m ready for that.
Not yet.
Not after the way he treated me last night.
I still remember how cold his voice was. ‘Move’ he said. Then he just drove away. Without listening to me.
I feel my blood pressure rise, just thinking about it.
I jam my hands into my pocket and walk faster, head down. Suddenly, I hear someone call out my name. The sound comes from behind me.
“Penny!”
Stopping, I whip around, and see Chris, jogging towards me.
Shoot. Isn’t that just the way things go? Here I am thinking about how to avoid Chris, and he’s the first person I see.
He looks so handsome in his police uniform. He always does. I see his police car parked... in front of the Hillcrest Inn. I look around myself, disoriented. I’ve been so lost in thought that I barely real
ized that I’d walked down towards the inn.
“Did you fill out a report?” Chris asks.
“Not yet,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.
He frowns. “Why not?” he asks. I can tell he’s annoyed.
“Because, Chris. Filling in blanks of a paper form is the last of my worries right now. Remember? I told you. There were werewolves here last night.”
He looks around us, as if afraid someone overheard me.
I follow his gaze and see Ted McDougal standing with Police Chief Holcomb, near the window to Raul’s room. The area is marked off with tape and they appear to be dusting the sill for fingerprints.
We’re far enough away from the two that they didn’t hear me, but Chris still reacts. He places his hand on my elbow and steers me farther away from the inn and all the activity there.
“Would you keep your voice down about that?” he says.
I emit a frustrated sigh. “I know it sounds crazy, Chris. But it’s the truth. This case involves werewolves.”
“It doesn’t just sound crazy, Penny. It is crazy. Insane. Like—certifiably insane, actually.”
“I’m not insane!” I say. I pull my arm away from his. “Chris, I told you I was practicing witchcraft months ago—on the same night that I told you I loved you. Remember?”
“Kind of,” Chris says.
Ugh! He’s killing me. I revealed one of my deepest secrets to him, and he only ‘kind of’ remembers it?
“And what did you think that meant? That I was—what, lighting candles and burning sage?”
Chris nods. “And maybe listening to weird music. Like, chanting or drumming or something. I don’t know.”
I groan. “I had no idea you were so close-minded about magic.”
That’s not the entire truth. I did suspect that he was going to be this closed-minded. That’s why I’ve been playing down my powers for so long.
Too long.
I should have told him about the things I was learning, sooner. I shouldn’t have kept it hidden. If I’d been more honest, maybe we could have had this discussion under different circumstances.
Like, when our careers and the safety of our town wasn’t riding on the outcome.
“I’m not close-minded,” Chris says. “I’m realistic. Whatever weird thing you were doing with your hand last night can probably be explained by science.” He frowns, and reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’m not sure. I got a C in physics.”
The Case of the Banishing Spell Page 9