Magic & Mercy

by Annabel Chase

  Ian, the perpetually congested Master-in-Familiar Arts, clasped his hands in front of him. "I thought, for the first lesson, your familiar would be more comfortable in his natural habitat. After today, we can resume lessons elsewhere, if you’d be more comfortable.”

  Raoul tried to fist bump me. Cool. Someone finally putting me first. About freakin’ time.

  "There you are," a take-charge voice said. Marigold came traipsing through the leaves, a determined look in her eye. "I expected you to still be at the cottage."

  "You’re joining in the lesson?" I asked.

  Marigold nodded. "As the Mistress-of-Psychic Skills, you need me to forge the link between your familiar and Ian.”

  I scrunched my nose. "Why would you need to do that?"

  "It assists in making the lesson go smoothly," Ian explained. "If I know what your familiar is thinking, I can help redirect him or address any issues without the need for translation. It makes for a more streamlined process."

  I wasn't sure that was such a hot idea. I'd heard some of Raoul's thoughts. I had no doubt they were very different from the thoughts of Precious, my aunt’s delicate snowflake of a familiar.

  Will I be able to hear his thoughts, too? Raoul asked me.

  I raised my hand. "Raoul wants to know if he’ll be able to read your thoughts, Ian. Or does it only work in one direction?"

  "It will work the same as any familiar bond," Ian said. "So, in short, yes."

  Raoul scampered around the ground like he’d discovered a full trashcan. Woo hoo! I'm going to be able to do something you can't, he taunted.

  I have no interest in reading Rudolph's thoughts, thank you very much, I said.

  Rudolph? I thought his name was Ian, Raoul said.

  It is, but his shiny red nose automatically conjures up images of the famous reindeer.

  Raoul doubled over with laughter. This is going to be a hoot.

  "Are we ready?" Marigold asked, tapping her foot impatiently.

  “What’s the rush? You got big plans today?" I asked her.

  "As it happens, I do," she said. "Whenever the butler conference comes to town, I get together with a friend. He cancelled our lunch the other day at the last minute, so we’ve rescheduled for today. I’m just pleased they’ve extended the conference so he’s still in town.”

  “Ooh. Does Marigold have a love connection with a butler?" I teased. "Does he clear those cobwebs away?"

  Raoul fist bumped me again. I bet he polishes her knockers.

  My brow creased. Okay, yours crossed the line.

  Raoul shrugged his furry shoulders. I'm a raccoon. What do you want from me?

  “Smithers and I met here in town the first year he attended the conference,” Marigold explained. “We share a similar disciplined approach to life.”

  Disciplined approach? Raoul echoed. That either sounds incredibly boring, or incredibly kinky. Hard to tell with this one.

  Marigold took Ian's hand and I cringed. All I could think about was his postnasal drip and how often he must reach for a hanky. I was glad I didn't need to do any handholding.

  Marigold wriggled her fingers at Raoul. "Take my hand, please, washbear."

  Washbear? Raoul complained. Not again.

  Hey, at least she didn't call you a trash panda, I said.

  "Now, Ian, take Raoul's other hand," Marigold said. They did as instructed. "I'm going to do a quick chant, and then I'll need you to test out the link. Ian, you will ask Raoul telepathically what his favorite color is and then report back the answer. Raoul you will confirm whether Ian is correct."

  They both nodded. Marigold performed an incantation, her eyes closed and a serene expression on her usually tense face. A breeze encircled us, kicking up dirt and leaves.

  "Brown," Ian said.

  "Well, that can't be right," I said. "Marigold, you'll need to try again."

  Why? He’s right, Raoul said.

  “A-ha!" Ian said. "It did work."

  "Whose favorite color is brown?" I asked incredulously.

  All my favorite things are brown, Raoul said.

  I waved my hands emphatically. "No need to elaborate. I get the idea."

  You’re disgusting, Raoul said.

  Marigold dusted off her hands. "My work here is done, then?"

  "It is," Ian said. "Thank you for taking time out of your busy day.”

  As Marigold marched off to her next appointment, Ian's attentiveness didn’t escape my attention.

  "You like her," I said, once Marigold was out of earshot.

  Ian turned his head toward me. "Of course. She’s a fine and amiable witch."

  Raoul clapped his claws together. You're right, Ember. He has the hots for her. Amiable, my furry butt. Raoul clutched his stomach, laughing.

  Ian wiped his brow with a handkerchief. "I'm beginning to think this was a bad idea."

  "I'm sorry," I said. "You have no idea what you're in for with us. Aunt Hyacinth should never have rushed us into this. We’re not ready."

  He agrees, Raoul told me.

  "Stop translating for me," Ian snapped, and immediately regretted his tone. "I'm terribly sorry. I'm usually better about keeping my guard up around Marigold. It's just that she looked so pretty today. She's a natural beauty and the forest only seems to accentuate her positives."

  I suppressed a smile. Marigold, a natural beauty? If you liked that cheerleader meets drill sergeant look, then I guess so. At least it wasn't Hazel he had a crush on. That would cause me to question his sanity.

  Hazel's not so bad, Raoul said.

  For a crazed clown, no, she isn't, I replied.

  Ian looked between us. "You don't like Hazel?"

  I groaned. "This link is already a pain in the butt. I like Hazel fine. I like Hazel the way I like medicine when I'm sick. A bitter necessity."

  "I suppose we should get started," Ian said. "I know you have quite the busy schedule."

  She plans to take a nap after this, Raoul said.

  "Raoul!" I said sharply. "I think there’s supposed to be some level of trust between a familiar and a witch."

  "Too right, Miss Rose," Ian said. “A familiar is far more than a mere companion to a witch. His role is to offer protection and guidance, or even assist with the magical arts.”

  “Ha! The only place he’s going to guide me is to the dump,” I said.

  Ian ignored my remark. “He can also do your bidding, if requested. In ancient times, they acted as servants. In fact, the name is derived from famulus, which is Latin for servant."

  I pointed a mocking finger at Raoul. "Ha ha. You’re my servant. Do my bidding, trash panda."

  "A familiar can also act as a spiritual guide, almost like a guardian angel.”

  I looked at Ian in disbelief. "You expect my spirit to be guided by an animal whose main goal in life is to inhale as much trash as possible in one sitting? This seems unfair on a very basic level."

  Ian blew his nose and tucked the tissue back into his cloak pocket. "I think it would behoove us to work on a trust exercise today. Help the two of you forge a closer bond. Merely having a telepathic link isn't going to foster the type of relationship you should have with your familiar."

  "So, what?” I said. “We want to get to a point where he curls up on my lap at dinner like Precious does with Aunt Hyacinth?”

  I'd be down with that, Raoul said.

  I made a sound of disgust. "In your dreams, street rat."

  I am not a rodent, Raoul protested. Raccoons are in the bear family, hence washbears.”

  “Let’s begin with a trust walk,” Ian said. “Miss Rose will be blinded and it will be your familiar’s job to safely guide you to the end of the path.”

  “I think you mean blindfolded,” I corrected him. “You said blinded.”

  Ian inclined his head. “I’m a wizard. Why should I use a blindfold when magic will do?” He produced his wand and said, “Caecus.”

  Everything went black.

  “Hey, I hadn’t agreed to
this yet,” I objected.

  “You don’t need to agree,” Ian said. “I’m the instructor and you are my student. I will handle the lesson as I see fit.”

  This guy’s growing on me like a fine set of whiskers, Raoul said.

  “Raoul, do you see those two live oaks at the end of the path?” Ian inquired.

  “I don’t,” I grumbled.

  “Your job is to guide Miss Rose to the end without letting her sustain injuries,” Ian continued.

  The path looks pretty clear, though, Raoul said. How hard can it be?

  I heard the sound of a tree falling and a loud thud. Then I heard a crackle and felt the warmth of nearby flames.

  “Are you burning down the forest just to teach us a lesson?” I asked.

  “Not to worry, Miss Rose. The magic is contained,” Ian said. “Go on, Raoul. The path awaits.”

  Beside me, I felt my familiar hesitate.

  What’s wrong? I asked.

  Um, I’m a little freaked out, he admitted. Fire and I have a bad history.

  It’ll be fine, I reassured him. Ian won’t let anything happen to us. It’s only a lesson. Guide me to the end of the path and he’ll put everything back like it was.

  Okay. He sounded hesitant. Take a few steps forward.

  How many is a few? Five?

  I don’t know, he replied. Four? Your feet are bigger than mine. I can’t judge!

  Calm down, buddy. You’re overthinking it.

  You’re the one demanding exact numbers, Raoul said. That’s what I call overthinking it.

  Ian heaved a sigh. “Perhaps you could act less like siblings and more like spiritual partners.”

  I forgot Ian was still plugged in. “I’m going to take four steps forward, Raoul.”

  Okay, the raccoon replied, and I began to walk. But watch out for that…

  I tripped and nearly fell forward on my knees. Thankfully, I was able to steady myself.

  Tree stump, he finished sheepishly.

  “Now what?” I asked. “More steps?”

  There’s a bush with thorns on your left, he said. Avoid that. Oh, and it’s on fire so don’t brush up against it.

  Try not to bury the lead, I suggested. I took a few more tentative steps ahead. The heat from the burning bush nearly singed the hair off my arm. “Why do I get the sudden urge to call you Moses?”

  “Ah, a Biblical reference,” Ian said, with an awkward laugh. “Very good, Miss Rose.”

  “At least someone appreciates my humor,” I said.

  I appreciate it, Raoul said. When it’s funny.

  “Argh,” I said. “How many more steps to the end?”

  Um, you might want to hop up on the fallen tree, he said.

  Why? Suddenly, the ground beneath my feet felt warm and wet.

  There might be a little lava issue, he said.

  My pulse quickened. “Where’s the tree?”

  Up here, he said, taking my hand. I’m already on it.

  Way to save yourself first, I said. Some spiritual guide you are.

  I put on my oxygen mask first, he argued. That’s parenting 101.

  First, you’re not my parent. Second, you’re a raccoon. How do you have any knowledge of airline rules?

  You’d be surprised what reading materials I come across at the dump, he replied.

  I tried to walk along the fallen tree without slipping off. “Is the lava really necessary?” I called over my shoulder. It seemed like overkill for this particular lesson.

  Ian didn’t respond.

  One foot in front of the other, Raoul said. About three more steps and…

  I lost my footing.

  “Grab her, Raoul,” Ian shouted.

  I felt my familiar reach for me as I tumbled off the tree. His claws sliced my arm but failed to keep hold. I braced myself for a fall.

  “What’s happening?” Although I couldn’t see, I knew I was hovering in mid-air.

  “I took action,” Ian said.

  My vision returned and I immediately saw that the forest was restored to its normal state. No lava. No fire.

  “Seems we have our work cut out for us,” Ian said. “It’s to be expected, I suppose. You’re both new to this world, in one way or another.”

  “Why did you intervene?” I asked.

  “Because your aunt would not take kindly to me roasting her favorite niece on the forest floor.” He adjusted his collar. “I suspect she would do far worse to me in response.”

  Sorry, witchy poo, Raoul said. I’ll do better next time.

  Don’t you dare call me witchy poo, I said. I’ve completely lost faith in you.

  Can’t lose something you never had in the first place, Raoul replied.

  I ignored him and turned to Ian. "Well, that was a fun lesson,” I said. Not. "What's on the agenda for next time?"

  "Perhaps some elementals work," Ian said. “And, clearly, more trust exercises.”

  I'll do better, Raoul said. Promise. The last thing I would ever want is for Ember to get hurt. She’s my purpose in life. Well, her and a full garbage truck after a collection at the grocery store.

  "Will we need Marigold again to create a link between you two?” I asked. “When does this one wear off?"

  "This one ends with the lesson," Ian said. "It's a customized spell. And, yes, Marigold will be at the next lesson same as this one." He wagged a finger at me. "I don't need to read your mind to know what you're thinking, Miss Rose. Do not attempt to play matchmaker with us. It’s bound to end in tears. I won’t say whose.”

  "Why not?" I asked. "You're both in the coven. That seems to be the most basic requirement."

  "We have a history that you know nothing about," Ian said, fishing out his tissue once more.

  Yuck. I couldn't imagine kissing that congested face. There was no way you could walk away without a memento of his postnasal drip.

  "Somebody needs to read Marigold’s mind, to see if she feels the same," I said.

  "Good luck trying to forge a connection with the Mistress-of-Psychic Skills without her knowledge," Ian said. "That would take a more advanced witch than yourself." He hesitated. "No offense, of course.”

  “I know my limitations,” I admitted. Wouldn’t stop me from trying, though. I was stubborn like that.

  “This was a worthy lesson,” Ian said. “I look forward to the next one.”

  I patted him on the shoulder. “I think you’re the only teacher that feels that way about me.”

  “I haven’t heard Wren complain,” Ian said.

  Ooh, the hot wizard, Raoul said. I still think you’re missing out there.

  Thankfully, Ian was already on the path that led out of the woods. A clear path, without lava.

  "See you next time, Ian," I called after him, waving.

  Once Ian disappeared from view, Raoul turned to me. We’re totally gonna try to do a link with Marigold, right?

  I smiled. Familiar, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

  After stalking butlers around the convention center for an hour with no leads to show for it, I decided to hatch a plan to trick Marigold into developing a psychic link with me. I wanted to find out more about her history with Ian. It wouldn’t be easy to direct her attention to the congested wizard while there was a special friend in town, though. Her disappointment over the cancelled lunch with the butler was apparent. My pace slowed as I realized that their original lunch had been scheduled for the day of the murder. Was there a chance Smithers was involved in the murder and that was the reason he cancelled? Maybe I could catch a killer and remove a romantic rival in one fell swoop. Bonus!

  As much as I wanted to go home and curl up in a lazy ball on the couch, I decided to take action. A couple of quick calls revealed that Smithers was a guest at the Kraken Hotel. My phone calls also revealed that the sheriff was busy interviewing staff at the Gryphon, where Higgins had stayed, so I decided to pay a visit to Smithers on my own. I figured if he gave me a hard time, I’d throw some unpolished silverw
are at him and make a run for it.

  Smithers was not the butler I expected to meet. While his name suggested a certain similarity to Ian, the butler himself was buff, bald, and sported an intimidating skull-and-crossbones tattoo on his bicep.

  “You’re Smithers?” I queried, darkening the doorway of his hotel room. Although his appearance made me question my plan, I drew comfort from the fact that my wand was safely tucked away in my waistband.

  “That’s right, love.” Smithers’ intense gaze traveled down the length of me. “You don’t look as strong as the usual girl, but you’ll do.

  I balked. “Do for what?”

  “You’re not here to give me a massage?” He flexed his muscles. “My shoulders are a mess. Knots like the ones on a tree trunk.”

  Arms like tree trunks, too. “No, sorry. You’d be highly disappointed by my massage efforts.” I held up a puny arm. “No upper body strength.”

  “Well, you’re not room service,” he said, noting the absence of a trolley or tray.

  I forced a smile. “I’m a friend of Marigold’s.” Friend. Reluctant student. Only a slight difference.

  His brow lifted. “Oh. I reckon she’s pissed that I had to reschedule again.”

  “You mean even after the cancelled lunch?” There was hope for Ian yet.

  “I got caught in an impromptu meeting with Belvedere,” he said. “He’s the president of our association and the fella talks a blue streak.”

  “Yes,” I said, inflecting my voice with certainty. “She was very disappointed to miss you again when your time here is so limited.”

  Smithers looked me over again. “Why’d she send you? Like I said, you don’t look much stronger than a leprechaun’s beard.”

  Although I wasn’t familiar with that particular expression, I filed it away for future use in front of Deputy Bolan the next time he scowled in my direction.

  “She didn’t send me to rough you up,” I said. What kind of relationship did these two have? “Besides, I’m a witch. I don’t need to look strong to be strong.”

  “Fair enough. You’d never guess the feats Marigold’s capable of just by the look of her.”

  Once again, I found myself wondering about the nature of their relationship.