While I believed Ethel had resources and tricks, I didn’t think she was going to have much luck finding the black market ring. They’d been operating for a while, and the police and I had precious little on them. Or to be exact, what we did have wasn’t helping us find the leaders.
It would be great if we—the police, Ethel, and I—could solve this before the spring convention in a few weeks. That would give us a way to demonstrate the benefits of the changes Ethel and I wanted to make, how working with the rest of society could benefit the witches. Though, considering how little information the police had on the individuals behind the black market goods, I didn’t think solving the case before the convention was all that likely.
Glancing at my watch, I realized it wasn’t that late in the day. Meeting with Ethel always seemed to make time crawl. No matter how slow it felt like time had moved, I didn’t get paid unless I worked, and that meant I needed to get back in my workroom and start disenchanting.
I walked into my office, wishing I didn’t have to make notes on each piece as I examined it. The police liked the paperwork, and back when I’d had a more reasonable number of items—a few boxes a month—to disenchant, it wasn’t an issue. Now that I was doing thousands… Well, every little step added time, time I simply didn’t have if I was to keep up with this level of work. Maybe I should set aside an afternoon to see if there was a spell that could take notes for me.
Pulling the frying pan out of the box, I gave it a cursory probe as I had before Ethel had arrived. It still had the same distorted spell that created wild swings in the heat distribution across the pan. Extending a tendril of magic, I probed the spells, trying to figure out why this object had been so interesting to her.
All I found were spells so badly distorted I couldn’t be sure of their original function. To my senses, there was nothing that indicated who had created it or where they were. Sighing, I stripped the spells off, letting the excess energy flow back into the earth.
I moved onto the bag clip with the top of a chip bag still clutched in its teeth. Once closed, it was nearly impossible to get the thing to open. This time when I probed the spells, I looked for any similarities between these spells and the ones on the frying pan. Just like before, all I could see was something done very poorly. It wouldn’t have killed Ethel to give me a little more information.
When I finished removing the spells, I set the bag clip to the side. Turning back to my workbench, I surveyed the options—a set of plates or a set of cups. Since I could move the plates out in one big stack, I went for them. At least when I probed them, I could see the framework for the original spell and where it went wrong.
The spells were supposed to feel the temperature of food when it was placed on them and work to maintain that temperature. So if a person was using them to eat pizza, the plates would stay warm, and if they used them for salad, the plates would stay cool. Instead of working as intended, the plates picked a temperature and stayed there, with absolutely no correlation to the temperature of the food. No one wanted to put pizza on an icy plate.
It took me a little extra time to pull the spell off all eight of the plates because I had to check each one to ensure they were magic-free. I scribbled down my notes and then placed the dishes, bag clip, and frying pan in the donation box my collection service provided. There was no reason they couldn’t go to a family in need.
I’d just set the six cups out when my phone rang again. “Oaks Consulting. Michelle speaking.”
“Michelle, it’s Wells.” Better known as Detective Wells of the Gilmer County Sheriff’s Office. “You need to meet me at the medical examiner’s office.” His voice was grim.
“All right. When?” From my apartment it was about a forty-minute drive.
“As soon as you can get here.” Not that he was typically the most cheerful, but that was dark even for him.
“Give me forty-five minutes. Do I need to bring anything in particular?” I kept a big bag of supplies in my car, but there were always situations that needed something special. It was better to ask than be caught unprepared.
“No, but I need you here. Patrick is unavailable.”
“Got it. I’m on my way.” We both hung up without exchanging another word. It was odd for Patrick Westmoreland, Gilmer County’s only hedge-practitioner, to be unavailable, but I shrugged it off. Maybe he was on vacation.
I hurried out the door, purse, bottle of tea, and a snack in hand. I tried to call Elron to let him know I might be late for dinner, but he didn’t answer. One of these days he’d learn to keep the phone close by. As I rushed through the lodge, I debated the best way to let Elron know I was likely to be even later than him. Luckily, I ran into Landa, the brownie who owned the lodge, on the way out.
“Landa, when Elron comes back, can you tell him I had an emergency call to Ellijay? I called him but he didn’t answer. You know how he is.”
All four feet of her, with dark skin and big green eyes, focused on me. Brownies looked small and cute, but they were powerful. This particular brownie was like a second mother to me. “Of course, child. Do you have snacks?”
I held up the bag of muffins.
“Good. Be safe.”
Leaning down, I gave her a hug. “Thanks. You’re the best.”
She smiled. “And you’ll be late if you don’t hurry.”
“I’m hurrying!” I called back as I jogged out of the lodge and over to my car. In a matter of moments, I was bouncing down the gravel driveway, and a few minutes after that, I was on the highway and cruising up to Ellijay.
It would’ve been nice to know what I was walking into. I didn’t get calls to the medical examiner’s office often. Which was just fine with me. Bodies weren’t my favorite thing to be around. And there was absolutely nothing fun about testing a body for magical residue. I really hoped this was some other type of a problem.
Maybe a vampire had risen unexpectedly and they didn’t have anyone else to call. Or something else like that. It would be a much better way to spend my afternoon than looking at bodies.
After I parked, I tried to call Elron again, but like the last time, he didn’t answer. Hoping everything was okay, I grabbed my kit and headed inside the medical examiner’s office.
Wells was leaning against a wall just inside the door. He was one of those guys that was easy to miss because he was so average-looking. That was until you got to his six-fingered hands. He was also a wereoctopus. I’d yet to figure out if the extra finger had anything to do with what he shifted into, especially since octopi had eight limbs.
He nodded in greeting. “Glad you made it.”
“That’s what I’m here for. What can I help you with today?”
“Nothing.” His shoulders were tight, and he didn’t look me in the eye.
My eyebrows shot up. “Nothing? Even now that I’m here? That’s rare.”
He sighed. “Not my choice. You’ll understand soon, but go along with it, okay?”
I searched his face, looking for a reason for all this. All I could see was how unhappy he was with the situation. That reassured me somewhat. We’d been through a lot together, and I trusted him.
“Then let’s get this over with.” My mind churned as he signed me in and guided me through the building. There were only two good reasons I could think of for all this. The first was the better one. They simply wanted to see my honest reaction to something before I got started on the case. Or, and I really hoped this wasn’t the reason for the secrecy, someone suspected I had a hand in whatever had gone on, most likely a murder since we were at the medical examiner’s office. I sent a quiet prayer to the earth, asking for stability and calm while I got through this.
Wells stopped in front of a window, and I knew what was about to happen. He tapped on the glass, and the curtain slid back.
I screamed.
Chapter Three
Elron
I set down my tea. As frustrated as I was with myself, work was a haven. My greenhouses felt content.
With the exception of a small twinge of unease from the new arrival in greenhouse three, a Japanese black pine, my plants were happy. Studying the single page of notes on the new plant, I wished I had more information.
It had been anonymously donated to the university a week ago. Like the rest of the plants, it was magical, with a truly unique talent too. Back when it first arrived and was in quarantine, I went to examine it and found shadows around the plant. It had been reluctant to communicate with me, but from the information I gathered, the black pine produced an aura of darkness.
With such a unique ability, I found myself wondering why it had been donated. The black pine had been well cared for prior to its arrival. While it was only two and a half feet tall, the thickness of the trunk told me the tree was much older than its height would suggest. The trunk had been trained in an S shape, with tiers of greenery following the curve, and the tree could be considered a bonsai. The one oddity I had found was an iron teapot in the trunk of the tree. It had clearly been there for some time since the tree had grown around it. I did not understand why someone who put the effort into training and caring for this tree would allow such a thing to happen.
After an exhaustive examination, I settled it into the greenhouse. Since I had so little history, I assigned Maggie, a student, to research its origin. So far she had not found any useful information. Magical plants were often misunderstood or only known to a small number of people. The university and I were working to change that, but for the time being we had to work within the system we had.
My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. “This is Elron.”
A light and airy voice responded. “Please hold for the premier.”
There was a soft click, and I was listening to piano music. My mind raced. Had Michelle been injured? Had the demon attacked? Had a witch attacked Michelle?
There was another click.
“Elron, it’s been too long.” Ethel’s voice was warm and charming.
I didn’t believe any of the charm. “How is Michelle? Has she been harmed?”
“She was in perfectly good health when I left.” She paused. “Surely you don’t expect me to be keeping tabs on her all the time?”
“I wouldn’t put it past you.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Her voice cooled. “Elves, they see too clearly.”
“Witches,” I shot back. “They talk too much.”
She chuckled. “I like you. I’d like you better if you were a witch, but one makes do with what one has.”
“I’m not yours,” I growled. The woman was never going to stop chattering and get to the point.
“But you did put a ring on Michelle’s finger.” Her voice was thoughtful. “So why won’t you set a date for the wedding?”
I took a deep breath, reminding myself that being angry with the old witch would not accomplish anything. “As you are not Michelle, I cannot see why I should answer.” Standing up, I paced the length of my office.
Ethel was quiet for a long moment. “You need me, Elron. Whether you admit it or not, you need me. Michelle will be the premier. Since the two of you seem to be rather devoted to one another, she’ll be the first premier with a spouse who isn’t a witch. We need to lay the groundwork now so your species won’t be an issue when she takes my place. Tell me, why won’t you set a date?”
My heart clenched. Life would be so much easier for Michelle if she loved a witch, but both our hearts had made their choice. “My apologies, Ethel. I would like to help, but I cannot. Good day.”
I hung up the phone without giving her a chance to speak.
Sighing, I rubbed my temples, wishing I had made different, and presumably better, choices. It had all been very logical. She had been injured and did not need the stress information about a demon would cause.
I did not want to get married knowing we still faced a danger that had killed a great many people in the past and would not hesitate to kill us as well. When we married, I wanted it to be with the knowledge that we had our entire lives ahead of us, that nothing was hunting us and preparing to kill us. However, before I could explain my desires, I had to tell her about the demon. This all would have been so much easier had I simply told her the truth when she was in the hospital.
Right now I was stuck in a nightmare. Every day I thanked the earth that I had found Michelle and she had agreed to become my wife. Every day I felt guiltier about the information I was hiding.
Tonight, I promised myself. Tonight I would tell her. For better or worse, it would be in the open and we could move forward. Hopefully forward would still include a wedding.
The phone rang again. A brief glance confirmed it was Ethel. I turned off the ringer and slid the phone in a drawer. Until I had talked to Michelle, there was little point in speaking with Ethel.
A growing sensation of unease emanating from greenhouse three distracted me. I focused on the emotion but could not pinpoint the source as it was blanketing an entire corner of the structure. Hoping one of the students had simply caused the plants discomfort, I stayed at my desk.
The entire greenhouse vanished from my senses. One moment it was there, emanating a feeling of unease and distress, and the next it was simply gone. There was nothing. The entire area was empty, as if the earth and all the plants were gone. Then I heard a scream. A humanoid scream.
I bolted out of my chair and sprinted toward the door of the greenhouse. There should not be anything on this campus or in greenhouse three that would block my perception of that area. I could not remember a time when my ability to sense a piece of land had suddenly vanished. Bursting into the hallway, I focused on the opaque door to the greenhouse. Whilst it appeared normal enough, I knew appearances counted for very little.
The screaming cut off as I skidded to a halt. My instinct was to charge in; however, that was something I could not allow myself to do. Instead, I felt for the missing plants. The same emptiness that had first alerted me filled my senses.
When I was unable to reach the flora, I called upon my connection to the earth. The earth under my feet was there, not only in the physical sense but also able to communicate with me.
“What happened beyond that door?”
The earth gave me a response that was the equivalent of a shrug.
“Can you tell me anything about what has occurred inside the greenhouse?”
No. The response was quite firm.
After thanking the earth, I took a deep breath. Curling my fingers, I twisted my wrist, summoning my sword. The familiar weight settled into my palm. Tightening my fingers on the hilt, I opened the door. All-encompassing blackness, the type found in deep caves, greeted me.
Midmorning on a sunny day, the greenhouse should have been full of light and happy plants. Inhaling, I noticed a lack of the heavy earth scent and the lighter fragrance of flowers and leaves. As with the absence of light, there was simply nothing.
I knew the abilities of the plants in this greenhouse, and none of them could do this. Or, to be more accurate, the only plant with unknown abilities was the Japanese black pine, so I believed that was the culprit. Whilst I did not know if this was normal behavior for the black pine, it was unacceptable, especially when I considered the humanoid scream. I silently asked the earth for her help as there was likely someone trapped in the greenhouse.
Squaring my shoulders, I stepped inside. I was instantly engulfed. When I glanced behind me, I was unable to see into the hallway. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It was so much worse than I’d thought. This was more than darkness, it was a complete lack of light. There was nothing for my eyes to focus on, not even a pinprick of light.
After a steadying breath, I slowly took another step forward. Since my eyes were unable to guide me, I listened for the rustle of leaves, shifts in the air, anything that would alert me to danger. What I did not hear alarmed me. Campus noises had fallen away, even the ones I should have continued to hear, like the honk of car horns or people in other greenhouses. The darkness was doing mo
re than obscuring my vision. It was obscuring all my senses.
I stopped moving forward. The earth under my feet was neither path nor flower bed, leaving me little to guide my way through this cursed darkness. If I continued, I would run into something, and I would not know if it was friend or foe.
Even though I could not see or hear or scent anything, I had to get to the black pine. It was the most likely cause of this. If I could reach it, I should be able to interact with it, force it to retract this darkness. Until I regained my senses or was able to touch the plant, I would be unable communicate with the pine, never mind enact any changes.
A warmth spread across my chest as my medallion, a gift from a now-dead fey, sprang to life. All around me faint outlines of plants appeared, and I could feel the pebbles of the path under my feet. The medallion often surprised me with its abilities, but this time I was simply grateful for its assistance.
One careful step forward, then two. The outlines of the plants were still there. I kept my movements slow, more out of necessity than any desire to confuse the black pine. As I moved through the greenhouse, I tried to contact the plants. The area was as empty to me as it had been before. Stretching out, I brushed my fingers across a leaf. From the moment my fingers touched the fairy rose, I could see it in my mind, vividly alive and begging me to fix the problem in the greenhouse. I told it I would do my best.
Reassured that I could still communicate with the plants, I moved forward. That contact, brief as it had been, was comforting on several levels. Not only were my abilities intact, but whatever was causing this disruption, be it the black pine or something else, had limits to its abilities.
Something dropped onto my shoulder. I darted to the side as I looked down. Realizing it was simply a vine that had fallen on me, I took several deep breaths. Between breaths, the vine wrapped around my neck.
I reached out to it, trying to calm the plant, reassure it that it was in no danger from me.
A Witch’s Demons (Witch's Path Series: Book 6) Page 3