Damned and Cursed (Book 9): Witch Trial

by Glenn Bullion

  They chatted while they ate. Martha was in the middle of her toast when she sat upright and tapped the table.

  "I forgot to tell you," she said. "I finished that spell you were working on."

  "What spell?"

  She counted on her fingers as she rattled off the list. "Vanilla extract. Pudding. Lemon. Minced garlic."

  "Tapioca pudding," he corrected. "How did you know about that?"

  She was already halfway to the stove. She shoved aside the dirty pans and pulled out a small pot.

  "I read it in your book." She stopped and stood upright, turning around slowly. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "That's your book. But…there's just so many memories in there. I wanted to see your parents' words again."

  "It's okay," he said. "Just, you know, let me know next time."

  She nodded before turning back to the stove with enthusiasm. Kevin smiled as he finished his bacon and joined her. Martha rummaged through her cabinets.

  "Two things are missing. Water, of course. And…." She opened a drawer next to the sink. "Chalk!"

  She held up the white chalk proudly. Kevin ran through the list in his head, completing the recipe. He frowned when nothing came to him. Whenever he finished a new recipe, the spell's results came to him as well. His mind was blank.

  "What's it do? And why don't I know?"

  "Let's find out," she said, turning on the stove. "Shared magic needs to be discovered together. We won't know what it is until we try."

  He laughed as Martha gleefully mixed everything in the pot.

  "You already know, don't you?"

  "I tried it last night after I got home. When you were…wherever it is you were."

  If she was fishing for a glimpse into his nightlife, he didn't know.

  "You know me," he joked. "Party all night long."

  She held her finger over the boiling mixture, but stopped short of touching. Leaning back, she gestured to the pot.

  "Do you want to do the honors?"

  He shoved his finger into the pot, touching the bottom. He felt no pain. The mixture turned pink, but only for a moment, before resuming the look of Tapioca and chalk.

  "Okay," he said. "What now?"

  "Watch."

  She grabbed the pot by the handle and left the kitchen. Confused, Kevin kept a few steps behind. They walked into the living room, where Martha sized up the space between the two windows.

  She reared the pot back, and emptied its content onto the wall.

  He gasped at the sight. After working on the new potion for months, throwing it around was the last thing he expected.

  His gasp turned to full-blown panic as the wall vanished. They had a clear view of the neighboring house and part of the street. It resembled a witch's portal, except for the messy outline.

  "Uh," he said. "So much for witch's being subtle."

  "It's not a portal," she explained. She approached and knocked on the wall, which was still there, only transparent. "Think of it like a two-way mirror. No one can see in here."

  Kevin frowned, thinking about the potion. He didn't want to say he was unimpressed. All magic was impressive. But he failed to see the use of such a spell.

  "Our glasses do the same thing."

  "Yeah. For the wearer. This goes past that."

  "It could be fun in the locker room." Martha rolled her eyes. Kevin dabbed a drop of the potion on his finger and ran it along the wall. Wherever he traced disappeared. "But I don't know about practical."

  "Not all magic is practical. I'd say not even all of it is useful. But we just added to our kind. We did something no one else can do. This will go in your spell-book, and one day your children will read it."

  Hearing the word children prompted thoughts of a relationship, and made him think of Leese. He thought about her every day. Sometimes, only once or twice. Then, there were days he couldn't get his mind off her, no matter how busy he kept.

  "Martha, can I ask you….?"

  He went silent when he noticed her expression. She stared beyond her transparent living room, to the street. Kevin frowned as he took a spot next to her, trying to follow her eyes. A car slowed as it passed the neighbor's house. He only caught a glimpse of the driver, an older, silver-haired woman. The car began to slow. Kevin peered through the window to see it parking in front of Martha's house.

  "You should have told me someone was coming over," he said. "I would have made more food."

  He meant it as a joke, but Martha didn't respond. Not a laugh, giggle, or even a twitch of her lip. Her eyes darted about the living room, almost like a wild animal. He couldn't tell whether she was angry, nervous, irritated. Maybe even afraid?

  "Damnit," she muttered.

  "What's going on?" He shook her shoulder when she didn't respond. "Martha?"

  She finally came to her senses and grabbed Kevin's shoulders.

  "Listen to me. You're not a witch. Understand? You know of us, because you dated one."

  "So. Basically, I'm Leese."

  "Listen." Her tone set Kevin on edge. "This is serious. Talk as little as possible. Okay? Just be polite, but quiet."

  "Why? What's—?"

  Martha silenced him with a finger as she hurried across the room. She peered through the window to see the woman that had her so nervous was still standing by the car, making a call on her phone.

  Turning to her right, she opened the bottom of her cabinet and pulled out a wooden handle. On the end was a towel, wrapped around itself several times. Kevin caught a glimpse of black rubber, and realized what it was.

  He tried to stifle both a laugh and confusion as she handed him the object. It was a plunger.

  "Take this."

  "Uh, Martha." A thousand jokes went through his head, but she didn't look to be in the mood to hear a single one. "Why are you giving me a plunger?"

  She pointed over his shoulder.

  "Set it on the back deck. On the railing, next to the red flower pot. Do it now."

  He didn't bother asking any questions. With a defeated scoff, he turned and walked through the kitchen. He was could almost sense Martha's impatience behind him, so he hurried. There was no one outside, for which Kevin was thankful. He could do without the odd glance or shake of the head as he unwrapped the plunger and set it on the railing. He didn't know what to do with the towel. Hanging it over the railing would have to do.

  "Hey, Martha," he said, rejoining her in the living room. "I set up your plunger. My chores for the day—"

  He went quiet when a knock came at the door. Martha took a deep breath and crossed the living room. Kevin said nothing.

  He noticed the living room wall had returned.

  Her tone wasn't what he thought it would be when she answered the door. Fake surprise, mixed with a touch of sweetness.

  "Aggie? What are you doing in town?"

  "Hi, Martha. How are you?" Aggie's voice was even, but not unfriendly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to drop by without calling."

  Martha waved away the concern.

  "No worry at all. Come on in."

  Aggie accepted the invitation with a small smile. Martha shut the door behind them. Her eyes immediately went to Kevin, and he froze. Aggie was probably close to sixty. Her eyes were a deep blue, and seemed to stare a hole through him. She had a slender frame, a rigid posture. She wore a long dress with a white blouse. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, giving the illusion of a large forehead. Kevin could easily see her as the headmistress of a boarding school.

  "Hello," she said.

  He returned the smile and waved.

  "How's it going?"

  Aggie was quiet. She looked Kevin up and down, making him uncomfortable. She studied the living room and took in Martha's decorating.

  "Are you…." Aggie chose her words carefully. "Related to Martha, young man?"

  Martha stepped forward quickly before he could speak.

  "Ah, I'm sorry. Manners. They go with old age. Aggie, this is Kevin. Kevin Mishnar. Kevin, this is Agatha Spend
er. An old friend of mine."

  He had to wonder about her use of the word friend.

  "Kevin's not a witch," Martha went on. Her face turned red behind Aggie's shoulder. He could see she hadn't thought everything through, whatever lies she was trying to spin. "It's a funny story, actually."

  "I met Martha through my ex-girlfriend," Kevin said. "She is the witch." He forced a laugh. "In more ways than one." Martha relaxed, almost flashing a smile. Aggie didn't react at all. "Anyway, we had a fight, a pretty bad breakup. Martha's been letting me crash here while I get myself together."

  Aggie arched an eyebrow.

  "Don't you have a family of your own?"

  There was an edge to the question that Kevin didn't appreciate.

  "I do," he said simply. "But, like I said, I wanted to get away for a while."

  She disregarded Kevin and turned to Martha, offering her a sad smile.

  "More and more humans are finding out about us. These times, they're terrible. The Internet, Twitter, Facebook. Information is everywhere."

  "Don't forget Instagram," Kevin said. "That's a big one, too."

  He made the comment to poke at Aggie, needle her. To his surprise, she rolled her eyes and smiled at him. She almost seemed to lighten up.

  "Yeah, Instagram. My granddaughter spends more time on that than in school." She tilted her head back slightly, lifting her nose up. "What smells delicious?"

  "Ah, Kevin cooked breakfast," Martha said. "The little human can really cook."

  "I think some scrambled eggs are left, and some bacon." Kevin gestured to the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"

  "Actually, I am."

  "Well, let's not stand here like statues." Martha moved away, gesturing for everyone to follow. "Come. Sit, sit."

  The two women sat at the table while Kevin worked at the coffee maker. Besides being courteous with the gesture, he simply didn't want to sit with them. Martha and Aggie seemed friendly enough with one another. They made small talk, reminisced about past times. Names were brought up. Kevin didn't know any of them, but a few were familiar, written down as history in his spell-book in his parents' writing.

  If they were such friends, why the secrecy? Why was there a plunger on the back deck?

  Kevin prepared two cups of coffee and set them on the table. Aggie didn't thank him, but smiled, which he supposed would have to do. He slowly began washing the dishes.

  "Wow, how long has it been?" Martha asked. "Seven years?"

  "Nine. When I brought Nancy's coven through town."

  "Ah, yes. I remember. You know, I still think Malcolm was interested in you."

  Aggie scoffed and waved her hand.

  "I don't have time for schoolyard romance."

  "Who said anything about schoolyards? You both have bedrooms."

  The two women laughed. Kevin cringed at the thought, turning to watch them. Martha looked at him, and Aggie spun in her chair to follow suit. They laughed at the look on his face. He laughed with them, and for one brief moment, the underlying tension was completely gone.

  "Witches do have sex, young man," Aggie said.

  "And old people," Martha added.

  Kevin continued with the dishes.

  "So, what brings you here?" Martha asked.

  "I'm just passing through. I'm on my way to Vermont."

  "That's quite a drive."

  "You know I hate flying."

  Kevin nearly commented, but held his tongue. He was terrified of planes, ever since his adopted parents died in a plane crash. Aggie and he had something in common.

  "What's in Vermont?"

  Aggie sighed.

  "Werewolves."

  "Oh, God. What are they doing this time? Killing people?"

  "Actually, killing each other. They're having some kind of pack war. I'd normally stay out of it, let them kill each other. But they're not keeping it to the woods. There's video on the Internet now, along with a few human deaths. I'm going to head up there and put muzzles on them."

  The witches laughed.

  "Do you need some help?" Martha asked.

  Aggie leaned away in surprise as she sipped coffee and took a bite of bacon.

  "I thought you were retired?"

  "I am. Very retired. But if you need help—"

  "That's quite alright. I'm expecting help when I arrive. But thank you." Aggie turned in her chair to address Kevin. "Doesn't all this talk fascinate you, young man?"

  "I'm trying not to listen," Kevin lied. "Especially when you're dropping details of your sex lives. And I've had enough of witches after my ex-girlfriend."

  "Martha used to be quite formidable, one of our best. Some of the magic she could weave back in the day—"

  "Used to be," Martha echoed. "Back in the day. I'm still something, when you get me in the right mood."

  "Your boyfriend used to say very similar—"

  "Ladies," Kevin said, frowning.

  Martha smiled.

  "I think we're embarrassing Kevin."

  "Prudish boy," Aggie said, finishing her scrambled eggs. "But he's right, I've certainly said enough. And I should be going."

  Martha walked Aggie to the door, both women still all smiles. Kevin kept his distance, standing in the dining room doorway. Martha and Aggie embraced as they said their goodbyes.

  "It was great to see you again," Martha said. "Don't wait so long next time."

  "Let me know when you have some time. I'll fly you out to Tennessee. You can stay for a weekend."

  "Time." Martha rolled her eyes. "I definitely need to find some."

  Another hug, and Aggie left. Martha watched her leave through the living room window. Kevin said nothing. He studied Martha, her posture, body language. The joy she had during Aggie's visit was gone. The pensive, nervous expression had returned.

  "Well," Kevin finally said. "That was fun."

  She didn't laugh.

  Instead, she marched through the kitchen. He followed her to the back door, when she stepped out onto the deck. She came back a moment later, holding the plunger he'd set on the railing, along with the towel over her shoulder.

  He wasn't sure where to begin.

  "Uh, I thought you two were friends?"

  "We are. We've known each other almost forty years."

  "Then why are you so jumpy?"

  "Because sometimes friends fight."

  "Ah. So, you were going to beat her over the head with a plunger?"

  Finally, a short laugh. Martha started to explain, but decided it would be better to demonstrate instead. She approached the refrigerator and set the plunger on the counter. Kevin frowned. He hoped she hadn't used the thing recently. Regardless, he made a mental note not to prepare food on that particular counter.

  She poured a glass of water and made a show of stirring it with her finger.

  It didn't turn blue.

  "A magic-free zone," Martha explained. "No healing water, portals, nothing at all." She pointed to the living room. "That's why the wall came back quicker than if we let the magic run its course."

  "That plunger," he said. "Cancels magic?"

  "No," she said, shaking her head. "But four of them do. I've got three others spread through the house. You make a grid with them, and in that area, is magic-free. It's a two-part spell." She held up the towel. "This was soaked in a magic dampener. You took it off, and the zone turned on. You putting the plunger outside gave us a nice field of protection."

  "I need to learn that," he said, more to himself than Martha. "So, why were you expecting a fight?"

  "I wasn't expecting anything." Martha sat and nursed her coffee. "But…always better to be prepared."

  Kevin didn't say anything. He simply pulled up a seat across from her and rested his chin on his hands, staring at her intently. Martha laughed at his exaggerated puppy-dog eyes, and she got the hint. Kevin wasn't going to stop pestering her until she told him something.

  "We do have an order," she said. "Just like werewolves, vampires. We're not as politicall
y driven as vampires, but we have different covens, or whatever you want to call it. Aggie is one of the elders, highly respected."

  "And you've gotten on her bad side before?"

  "Yes," Martha said, with a nod. "I have."

  "Why did you want me to lie about being a witch?"

  "We're not supposed to gather, for one thing. Not for any great length of time. If witches gather, then witch-hunters gather. We try to stay apart as much as possible. There are exceptions, of course, like going to beat up some werewolves in Vermont."

  Kevin smiled, and she returned the gesture. Then she stared at the table, her eyes turning dark.

  "And…I'm not supposed to teach anymore. Many new witches were brought to me, but not now. They wouldn't be happy if they knew I'd been teaching you."

  "What? Would they cut off your hands?"

  She glanced up and glared dangerously. They hadn't talked about witches mutilating one another after that night, and Martha never brought it up. It was an unspoken subject that was off-limits.

  "Okay, why not?" he said, going in a different direction. "Why can't you teach?"

  She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable.

  "I made a few mistakes at the end of my teaching days. Let's just let it go at that."

  His brow furrowed as the worst possible thoughts crept into his mind.

  "Oh, God, you didn't have sex with a kid or something, did you?"

  "What? No! How can you think of something like that?"

  "Hey, I'm sorry! But you see it on the damn news every day. Some teacher in school, and one of the students—"

  "No, Kevin. And I'm insulted you could even think of that."

  "Okay, okay. I get it. Calm down."

  "Besides. With the men I was with, I wouldn't even dream—"

  "Okay! Enough!" He covered his ears. "I'll add it to my book. Don't piss off any elders."

  "Hey," she said, irritated. "We're not like you think…." She gave up, waving her hands in the air. "Yeah, fine. Stay on the elders' good side."

  "So, an elder," Kevin said. He thought this was as good a time as any for more knowledge. Especially concerning one specific subject. "Do they have more magic than the rest of us? Better magic?"

  "No, not at all. They're no different than the rest of us." She smiled at him. "You are the one that's different, being a full-blood."

  "But Aggie there, she's older, right? She's had longer to come up with magic?"