Witchtown

by Cory Putman Oakes

  Kellen reached out and gently brushed two locusts off my shoulders. I shuddered in disgust and ran my hands frantically over my hair, down my arms, over the folds of my sweatshirt, and through my hair again to make sure I had no more on me.

  “What on earth?” the shop owner exclaimed, her long blue cape swirling as she came out of a back room. I hadn’t met her before, but now hardly seemed like the time for introductions. She joined us behind the glass door so we could all stare out into the square together.

  The swarm was now obscuring the sun. It was hard to see anything besides the occasional shimmer of wings. Individually, the bugs were moving very fast. But as a group, they were moving in a slow, counterclockwise circle. They seemed to be centered on the square, which struck me as odd. Why should a giant cloud of biblical insects be attracted to the ritual area of a town full of witches?

  “Look!” I said suddenly, pointing to the altar.

  One of the dark-suited investors was standing there, seemingly unconcerned with the locusts that were swarming all around him. He raised one arm above his head, almost casually. When he opened his mouth, I blanched, imagining bugs flying into it.

  He said only one word. Had I been outside, I’m sure I would have heard it, because whatever it was, it shook the entire square with its intensity. It sent a tremor through the bug cloud and for a second that felt like it lasted several minutes, the locusts all froze, motionless in midair.

  Then they all fell to the ground, carpeting the square in small brown bodies.

  Now that there was light again, I could see the man more clearly. He was middle-aged, probably fortyish. Tall, with a trim black beard. He was looking down at all the dead bugs, his face twisted in disgust.

  The mayor and the other investors ran up to him. I couldn’t hear him speak, but his lips seemed to be saying I’m fine, I’m fine. He raised both hands, assuring everyone that they could back off. I froze.

  There was a sliver of silver on the second finger of his right hand.

  My eyes moved quickly over the other suits; there was a silver ring on the right hand of everyone who surrounded the mayor.

  A wave of fear washed over me, and I grabbed Kellen’s arm to steady myself.

  The mayor’s investors were Naturals.

  “Stop panicking,” my mother snapped.

  I had run back to the apartment, wincing at the crunch of freshly dead locusts under my feet. I don’t even remember what I said to Kellen. But, sadly, I think he was probably starting to get used to me running out on him.

  “Why shouldn’t I panic?” I shouted at her. “They’re Naturals!”

  “Shhh!” She put a finger to her lips and motioned to her closed bedroom door. Only then did I register that her hair was disheveled and that she was wearing only a hastily thrown-on robe.

  I stared at the bedroom door, then back at my mother, who was sitting at the kitchen table.

  “Percy?” I whisper-squeaked.

  My mother rolled her eyes.

  “Grow up, Macie. Yes, Percy is here. We’re adults. We know what we’re doing.”

  “He’s married! To the mayor.”

  “Weren’t you going on about something?” my mother inquired, feigning boredom. She leaned over, poured herself a glass of wine, and sipped it, watching me carefully over the rim.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. I only had the space to deal with one disaster at a time. I had to put the mayor’s husband out of my mind for now.

  “The Naturals,” I reminded her. “They change our game.”

  “How?”

  “Well, for one thing, they’re going to figure out what I am!”

  “We don’t know that,” my mother whispered calmly, but the gulp of wine she took betrayed her true anxiety level. “The moonstones have always worked before—”

  “We’ve never tested them on a Natural,” I reminded her.

  “I’m a Natural,” she growled at me. “I created them. We have no reason to think they won’t work as they have always worked and kept both Naturals and Learneds from sensing the Void in you.”

  I pinched my nose harder, trying not to groan. She hadn’t seen the man in the square. She hadn’t felt his eyes. Sure, my mother was a Natural. But he was something more. I had felt it. He had looked right through me.

  My mother took another enormous gulp of wine and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her usual calm had taken over.

  “They are only here for the day,” she informed me. “To take a tour and pick up the books I forged. Brooke doesn’t think they’ll be back until they decide to invest. That’s if they decide. They have a week or so to accept the offer Brooke made them.”

  She had known they were here. She had known, and she hadn’t warned me.

  And here she was, casually talking about Brooke. While her husband was right in the next room. Probably naked.

  Shuddering, I grabbed the bottle of wine and poured myself a glass. My mother did not object.

  “What about the rest?” I asked. “Like the memory spell? We don’t know that that will work on Naturals either.”

  “We don’t know that it won’t.”

  “Are you willing to take that chance?” I asked, taking a deep sip of my wine. It made my empty stomach curl up on itself uncomfortably, but I ignored the feeling and took a second, bigger sip. “How’s the vault coming?”

  “Poorly. How’s the shop?”

  “Still standing,” I muttered. Which was more than the last tenant had managed, but not good enough. Not for our purposes.

  My mother put down her glass.

  “You were the one who wanted to stay here,” she reminded me. “You made the decision, Macie. Don’t tell me you’re second-guessing yourself already.”

  I bit my lip. She was right. It had been my decision.

  “If we leave now,” she added, “we leave with nothing. I don’t like the idea of running in fear from a pack of Naturals, but I don’t relish the idea of them catching us any more than you do. Let’s just keep the con going for another week—​until Solstice—​and then we’ll see what our options are, okay?”

  I stalled, taking another sip of my wine. Just two days ago, I had been so sure I was done. But now . . .

  This was my chance to leave. To pull the plug. It was the perfect excuse.

  But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I had no idea why, but I couldn’t make myself say the words.

  “Okay . . .” I said tentatively. “We’ll stay.”

  My mother got up from the table and turned back toward the bedroom.

  “I’ll make sure Percy didn’t hear anything.”

  “How are you going to do that?” I asked, out of sheer morbid curiosity.

  She faced me and grinned wickedly.

  “Never hurts to get a little practice with that memory spell. He’s such a willing subject. Darkness and clouds, darling. Darkness and clouds.”

  Then she practically skipped into the bedroom.

  I considered throwing up. The idea of her using poor Percy as her plaything, both mentally and otherwise, made my heart ache and my stomach turn, respectively. But I couldn’t let myself succumb to the mood of either body part. Instead, I gulped down the rest of the wine in my glass and bolted out of the apartment.

  I saw no sign of the mayor and her entourage of Naturals as I walked, but I kept my head down just in case. I needed to see a friendly face.

  The Crescent Roll was jam-packed. The chalkboard on the wall proclaimed that it was “Only 7 Days Until Solstice!” and reminded patrons to “Preorder Your Honey Cakes and Litha Loaves Today!”

  I spotted Gayle behind the counter, and even though there was a sea of people between us, I waved my arm excitedly at her. She waved back.

  “Hello, Macie! Make any progress with your ghost?”

  My heart sank at her words, but I tried not to show it.

  “Some!” I lied, and tried not to grimace as her face broke into a broad smile.

  “I knew you coul
d do it!” she said, handing a box of pastries to the woman at the front of the line. “I’d love to visit, but I’m a little busy at the moment. What about tomorrow evening? I think I could slip away then.”

  “Great!” I said, calculating the probability that I would find a way to deal with the poltergeist by then. In order to avoid having to admit to Gayle that I was woefully out of my depth, I would have to think of something brilliant between now and then.

  It felt strangely good to have a goal.

  I left the shop quickly, my blood pumping at the thought of a challenge.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Someone had done a good job of cleaning up the locusts; I only had to kick one or two carcasses out of my way as I headed to the Depot that evening.

  An odd feeling of calm had come over me, a sensation I hadn’t felt since the Haven before Rafe’s. I recognized it immediately for what it was: focus. The thing that I had been grasping for in the bathroom that first morning in Witchtown. I wasn’t sure what had brought it on. But whatever it was, I thanked it. For the first time in a long while, I was seeing things clearly.

  I didn’t know what I thought I had been doing these past couple of days. Magic lessons? Funerals? This town was doing its best to suck me in, to make me forget what I was really doing here. But I wasn’t going to let it.

  This was strictly business. And I couldn’t afford to waste any more time getting down to it. Not now that there were Naturals in play. They had all left town that afternoon, with the books my mother had forged. They wouldn’t be back until after Solstice, at which point I had to have something to show for myself or my mother was going to pull the plug on this whole con.

  Which was why I called for reinforcements.

  Talya and Kellen arrived at the Depot at precisely the same time, although they came from opposite directions.

  Getting my unruly poltergeist to fall into line was number one on my list of priorities. But I also had a number two priority that was long overdue. And thanks to my newfound clarity, I saw an opportunity to take care of both of them in one shot.

  “Talya,” Kellen said, acknowledging her with a slight nod as he tucked his box of supplies more securely beneath his arm.

  “Kellen,” Talya said in return, blinking at him from behind a thick layer of black eyeliner. She had a duffel bag with her; she had come prepared too.

  I let us all inside. Bradley was nowhere to be seen, but the destruction caused by our last encounter was more than obvious. Boxes of merchandise were strewn everywhere, several shelves had been knocked over, and oddly, a door I hadn’t noticed before in the very back of the shop had been ripped off its hinges.

  Talya noticed the door as well.

  “What’s back there?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, walking over to investigate. Talya and Kellen followed.

  Passing through the doorway, we climbed a steep flight of wooden stairs, which led to a small living area directly over the store. There was a kitchenette with the basics: a refrigerator, a sink, and a one-burner stove. Next to the kitchenette was a dumpy old couch and a large wood-frame bed without a mattress. There was even a very small bathroom.

  “Did you know this was up here?” Kellen asked me.

  An odd idea came into my head: This is mine. I could live here.

  I shook it off.

  “No,” I answered. “I had no clue.”

  “This is perfect,” Talya said, and she set down her bag and sank to her knees beside it. She pulled out an armload of white candles, a tape measure, a piece of chalk, a sprig of fennel, and a large silver bell.

  “What’s all that?” Kellen asked, looking it over with interest.

  “Everything you need for a ghost trap,” Talya said, as though it was glaringly obvious.

  “You’ve done this before,” I observed. She hadn’t mentioned it earlier when I had asked her to come by.

  “Yes,” she said. “Once. My mom—​she’s a realtor—​was trying to sell this one house, but the ghost inside wouldn’t let anybody in. So I trapped him and asked him what was wrong. It turned out he just didn’t like the yellow daisies my mom had planted out front. So we replaced them with pansies and the ghost went away. My mom sold the house the next day.”

  “Well, that’s one more ghost than I’ve ever banished,” Kellen said, setting his box down out of the way and walking back to sit beside Talya. “Tell us what you need us to do.”

  Talya stiffened at his nearness and scooted a couple of inches away. Kellen looked surprised. Maybe a little offended.

  But I knew it was nothing about Kellen in particular that bothered her. Talya just didn’t like people close to her.

  She looked up at me briefly, and I flinched.

  Did she know what I was doing?

  I couldn’t tell. She looked away too quickly.

  “You said his name is Bradley, right?” she asked. When I nodded, she continued. “That’ll make things easier. And it would also be good to have some bait. Was there something in particular that made him come out before?”

  I thought for a second, then ran downstairs to get one of the mislabeled bags of dried basil. It was only a hunch, but that’s what Kellen and I had been discussing right before the poltergeist had materialized the last time.

  When I got back upstairs, Kellen was holding the tape measure and Talya was using the chalk to draw two nine-foot-wide circles on the parquet floor. Once the candles were arranged around the edges of the two circles, Talya lit them with a wave of her hand. She herded Kellen and me into one circle and threw the bag of basil into the center of the other. Holding the fennel, she walked clockwise around both circles, chanting softly to herself. I couldn’t understand everything she said, but I was pretty sure the Goddess she called upon to guide the ritual was named Shechinah.

  Talya didn’t seem to expect either Kellen or me to participate, which was a relief. I held my moonstone necklace with one hand and tried not to let my nerves show. Kellen watched everything Talya did with silent curiosity.

  Once both circles were cast, Talya joined us in the center of ours, picked up the bell, and cleared her throat.

  “We summon you, Bradley,” she called out. “Come in peace, or not at all.”

  She rang the bell three times.

  We all stared at the other circle, which was empty except for the bag of basil.

  Nothing happened. Not even Bradley’s telltale cold wind.

  “We summon you, Bradley.” Talya tried again, louder this time. “Come in peace, or not at all!”

  Three more rings of the bell. Still nothing.

  Kellen shrugged.

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to come.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to come in peace,” Talya said, and raised a questioning eyebrow in my direction.

  I gestured to the empty circle.

  “Are you sure that’ll hold?” I asked her.

  “It should . . .”

  “Okay then,” I nodded.

  “Wait a sec—” Kellen started, but Talya cut him off.

  “We summon you, Bradley,” she said again. “Come.”

  This time, on the third peal of the bell, Bradley materialized inside the circle. He was huddled in his coat and when he looked over at us, his model-sharp features looked pissed off.

  “What the hell?” he demanded.

  Then he looked down and saw the bag of basil. He picked it up with a snarl and threw himself in our direction.

  All three of us jumped, but Bradley was thrown back the instant he hit the edge of his circle. He landed hard, back in the center, right on the seat of his designer jeans.

  I crept as close to the edge of our circle as I dared.

  “I just want to talk,” I said.

  Ignoring me, he picked himself up with a grunt and tried to fly off in the opposite direction, only to hit the same barrier on the other side. He flew around like that for a while, like a fly trapped in a jar, swearing his head off and causing the temperature in
the room to drop to near-Arctic levels.

  I hugged my arms to my chest and raised my voice.

  “I want to talk about Stan!”

  He paused. His back was to me, but he turned slowly with boneless grace until he was looking right at me. The red around his oversize pupils pulsed with not-quite-restrained rage.

  “So talk,” he said, and I was surprised to hear that he was using his conversational tone, not his dangerously creepy whisper.

  I took a breath.

  “You said this was Stan’s place,” I said carefully, watching his eyes. “Is he here too?”

  “No, it’s just me,” said the poltergeist, and flashed me a smoldering grin that reminded me of fire.

  I decided to get right to the point.

  “The people in town think you don’t want the shop to have a new owner,” I said. “But I don’t think that’s true.”

  Bradley raised one immaculately groomed eyebrow, but said nothing.

  “I think,” I pressed on, crossing my fingers in hopes that my hunch was correct, “that you just don’t want the shop to have the wrong owner.”

  I gestured to the bag of basil in his hand.

  “The last one planned to cheat his customers,” I said. “What was wrong with the one before that?”

  Bradley’s eyes flickered down to the basil. He didn’t answer right away, and my heart started to pound as I tried to plan an escape route. Just in case Talya’s circle wasn’t enough. Just in case his fire wasn’t contained by the circle at all . . .

  “The second one was a horrible person. And an idiot,” he mumbled finally. “She would have run this place into the ground.”

  I relaxed slightly, mentally high-fiving myself. I knew there was a reason he had stared at me for so long, rather than just incinerating me on the spot. He had been sizing me up. And apparently, he hadn’t liked what he saw. I was going to have to try to change his mind about me.

  But before I could try, Kellen opened his mouth.

  “You didn’t think the previous owners were good enough, so you killed them?” he demanded, from over my left shoulder.