Witching Hour

by Skylar Finn

  19

  Baggage

  Tamsin squinted at the negatives as she held them up to the light. I looked over her shoulder. Bea hovered next to us, scanning them impatiently.

  “This is pointless,” she said. “She needs to make a contact sheet so we can examine each shot individually and then determine which prints to enlarge. We should print all of them, in case we miss something.”

  “Um, what?” I asked.

  “I’ll make a contact sheet in the dark room so we can see these better,” said Tamsin as she studied the negatives. “Otherwise, we might miss something.”

  I decided not to bother pointing out that they were on the same page, and hey isn’t cooperation great, guys? I followed Tamsin into the darkroom, Bea hovering close behind.

  Tamsin took the negatives to a corner carrel and clipped them with a pair of scissors while I walked around the darkroom. A series of trays with chemical labels were lined up along the far wall. A clothesline was hung with more photos: some of them were student work; others were Cristo’s. I was certain they were Cristo’s because, like the photographs I’d seen by the sink, they were all of Tamsin.

  “How many pictures of her has he taken?” Bea said as she floated alongside me. She had apparently come to the same conclusion.

  The answer was dozens. I wasn’t sure which unsettled me more: that Cristo was obsessed with her, his new muse, or that she was so reluctant to tell me about it. I guess it was unsurprising, given my initial reaction to him and the fact that I clearly didn’t approve, but it pained me that Tamsin would keep secrets from me, especially in such a dangerous time.

  “I just have to develop it,” said Tamsin, who had moved over to the trays. I joined her side and watched as an image bloomed up on the page before us.

  “Wow, it’s kinda like magic,” I said, squinting in the darkness at the small series of images that formed on the page.

  “I find it more gratifying,” she said. “Not that magic isn’t work, but to actually have to physically go through all of the steps in order to get a result? It makes me feel like a normal person.”

  “What’s she talking about?” asked Bea. I ignored her. Tamsin went ahead of me into the vestibule leading back to the classroom, and I followed.

  “I have something else to tell you,” I said. “It’s about Cameron. I think he might have developed some kind of power.”

  “Cameron?” she said, startled. “Wait, what?”

  I quickly filled her in on our visit to Suki and our meeting with Janice. She was especially interested in hearing about them.

  “I knew there was something terribly wrong with Lindy,” she said. “At least now we know what it is, so we can fight her. But I’ve honestly never met other witches before, outside of our coven. What were they like?”

  Words failed to describe the level of intensity that radiated from the pair. I admitted my embarrassment at not knowing the seemingly simple spell that Suki had demonstrated.

  “Don’t even worry about that,” Tamsin said dismissively. “If you had been practicing magic your whole life, you’d be more powerful than both of them combined. That’s strange about Cameron, though. I kind of don’t believe them.”

  “Why not?” I said. When I surmised Cameron’s strange events, they did sound a little thin to my ears too, but I didn’t see why that made it impossible. Suki and Janice certainly seemed to think it was.

  “I mean, there’s just no precedent for it,” said Tamsin. “It’s too odd. Maybe not in the old days, when this Father Christmas person--”

  “Father Death.”

  “Right, yeah. Maybe when Father Death was running around. But not anymore.”

  “Excuse me,” Bea broke in. She’d been listening to our conversation with a combination of avid interest, incredulity, and disgust. “I have no idea what the two of you are even talking about right now, but can we please get back to, I don’t know, maybe solving the mystery of my untimely demise?”

  “What’s she saying?” said Tamsin, noticing the pained expression on my face.

  “She wants us to get back to the task at hand,” I said.

  “The two are related,” said Tamsin. “It’s not like we’re blowing it off to discuss make-up or something.”

  “Never mind,” I said hastily. I could sense a one-sided argument brewing where both of them said rude things about the other that only I could hear. “Can I see that magnifying thingy?”

  Tamsin handed me what looked like an upside-down shot glass and I moved it over the contact sheet. Most of the shots looked fairly normal, up until the last few. In the last few shots, Bea had zoomed in, closer and closer, on a figure sitting at the edge of a bench, looking up at the night sky.

  “Lindy!” I gasped. Bea tried to nudge me out of the way to see but passed harmlessly through me, giving me a strange chill. “Ugh, stop that,” I said. “It feels weird.” I stepped aside so she could look for herself.

  “Is this that thing you guys were talking about?” she asked. “The Never Was?”

  “Yeah, that’s her,” I said.

  Tamsin, unaware of where Bea was, leaned into her to look for herself and shuddered. “Ew, it feels like someone poured cold liquid Jell-O on me,” she said. “Is Bea standing there?”

  Bea glared at her. “I hope that someday, when you come back as a ghost, someone will compare you to cold gelatin,” she said.

  “Can you guys please stop?” I said, annoyed. “Please keep in mind I have to listen to both of you. Let’s just work together for five minutes and try to get along.”

  “Sorry,” said Tamsin, looking contrite. “Well, that’s definitely her, all right. Suki said you’d be invisible to her?”

  “Supposedly,” I said. “I have no reason not to believe her. She’s obviously very powerful. I’m thinking of looking for her at the co-op next.”

  “Why don’t you just text Bridget?” asked Tamsin. “Maybe she has her number. Can the Never Was use phones?”

  “I don’t want to bring Bridget into this,” I said. “Not if I can avoid it.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Tamsin asked. “What if it’s not safe?”

  “Do you know how to do the spell Suki did, for yourself?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “That’s insanely advanced magic,” she said. “Aurora might be able to do it, on a good day, but it’s way out of my skill set.”

  “Then you shouldn’t go,” I said. “She could be dangerous. And she won’t be able to see me.”

  Tamsin clearly didn’t like the idea of me following Lindy alone. Well, technically, I’d be with Bea, who I was certain would follow me whether I wanted her to or not, but there wasn’t much she could do in her present state.

  “I guess so,” she said reluctantly. “If her spell works.” She seemed dubious as to Suki’s talents, which made sense considering she hadn’t met her and had no idea how spooky she was. “I don’t like the idea of you doing this alone. What if I hide somewhere nearby in case you get into trouble?”

  “Where will you hide?” I asked, picturing her in a mustache-and-glasses disguise.

  “Upstairs,” she said. “In Les Rodney’s yoga studio. I’ll pretend I’m there for a class with Bridget.”

  “I would feel better if I knew you were nearby,” I admitted.

  “I would, too,” she said.

  “This is all very moving,” said Bea, utterly exasperated. “But can we get on with this?”

  The co-op was quiet during the week, and I was both unsurprised and disappointed to find only a handful of regulars and a couple employees. Tamsin went upstairs to watch the street from the window. She planned to come downstairs and follow me when she saw me leave the co-op. She’d never met Lindy directly and figured she could remain a safe enough distance behind to prevent her from noticing.

  Bea had disappeared somewhere along the walk from campus to the co-op. One minute she was there, floating alongside of us and complaining as usual, and the next minute sh
e was gone. Time and space seemed to be different for ghosts, and I was a little unsettled that she’d vanished so suddenly after being so gung-ho to set out on Lindy’s trail, but I was also a little relieved. I chose not to look a gift horse in the mouth and let her absence go unremarked.

  I decided to stake out the place in case Lindy showed. I ordered a green tea from Les’s Living Well station in the corner and sat in a red folding chair out front beneath the awning. I’d barely sipped my tea when a shadow loomed over me. I glanced up, startled, wondering if Suki’s spell had failed.

  It was Les Rodney. It was almost as if ordering something with his name on it caused him to appear.

  “Sam!” He beamed. “How wonderful to see you! I haven’t run into you for so long. You look well. Bridget said you did, but…” he paused. “It’s nice to see for myself,” he finished.

  “Great,” I said with zero enthusiasm.

  His face dropped. He slid into the chair across from me and leaned forward across the table earnestly. I knew it was just part of his Born Again Les schtick, but I automatically leaned away. He noticed and sat back more formally.

  “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see,” he said. “On any day of the week. And I totally get why, I really do. I think about all the terrible things I’ve done every day that I’m alive. And the thing I feel the worst about was the fact that I did those things to you. If I could take it back, I would. But I need you to know that you should never waste a single second of your valuable life thinking about me and what a waste of oxygen I was. Really.”

  He looked at me, his gaze intent and sincere. It was an expression I’d never once witnessed on the visage of Les Rodney, and I realized in that moment that he was also apparently sober. He really did seem like a different person. But it was still hard to accept.

  “What do you care, Les?” I asked. “I mean, I’m glad you’re a changed man and everything; really, I am. You have some great fruit here. Mediocre tea, but decent fruit. I’m glad that Bridget is happy. But what do you care how I think of you or if I even think of you at all? I’m with someone else, and it’s honestly hard sometimes, because sometimes I’m afraid he’s going to be like you. And that makes it hard for me and for him. Because you were cruel, it makes it hard for other people.”

  “That’s exactly what I don’t want,” said Les earnestly. “I want you to let go of the past, because I did nothing worth remembering. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, because I don’t deserve it, but I want you to move on so you can find happiness the way that I have. It’s a completely unjust universe if you don’t.” He sat back, looking frustrated. “You shouldn’t have to feel uncertain and afraid because of the things I did. Not you of all people. You have the purest heart I know.”

  I’m not sure why of all things, that had the impact on me that it did. But at his words, I realized that I didn’t want to feel bitter or fearful every day, or to carry around the six-piece Louis Vuitton baggage that was Les Rodney. I imagined what a weight off my shoulders it would be if I could just let it go and never think of him again.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said.

  “Please do,” he said sincerely. “And just know that your tea is always free with me. Tea, and also yoga. I know that’s what healed my soul.” I would have guessed it required something far stronger than tea to heal the soul of Les Rodney, but I guess it depended what you put in it.

  He placed his hands together as if in prayer and gave a little bow. “Be well,” he said solemnly. “Namaste.” He rose and went into the co-op, casting a rueful little smile back over his shoulder.

  Part of me felt an undeniable sense of relief, though it could have just been the fact that he was leaving. But I’d be lying if I said the other part of me didn’t still want to throw my green tea at his retreating back.

  Any thought of either resolution or resentment regarding Les Rodney flew from my brain as Lindy appeared from the thick of the crowd. She walked right by my table, passing within inches of me and nearly grazing my shoulder. It was as if I didn’t exist.

  As I watched, Lindy approached the front window of the co-op. She stopped on the sidewalk and gazed through the window, her eyes fixed on the interior. They rapidly flicked back and forth as they scanned the inside without going in, in a way that was not quite entirely human. I watched with shock. She was clearly looking for something. She was looking for me.

  Satisfied I wasn’t inside, she turned away and glanced at the sky. I thought of the final photograph Bea Wilson had taken and wondered what it was with her and staring up into space.

  She looked away from the window, scanning the street. Then she turned and headed up the busy sidewalk. Forgetting all about Tamsin upstairs, I jumped up from the table. Darting through the passersby, I kept my eyes locked on the back of her head and followed.

  20

  A Powerful Witch

  I trailed Lindy up the block. She never once turned or glanced my way, even when we passed by the reflective glass of a storefront where I could see myself trailing a few feet behind her. Either Suki’s spell was working, or Lindy knew that I was there and planned to lull me into a false sense of security as she led me into a trap. I tried to push this second possibility from my mind.

  Lindy stopped and went into the New Age shop where we’d first met. I paused at the door. This was a tricky proposition: I was invisible to Lindy, but not to anyone else. If I went in, Magdalena would see me and say something, revealing my presence to Lindy. I glanced over my shoulder. Tamsin was nowhere to be seen.

  I peered through the front door and didn’t see Magdalena. Maybe she was in the tea room. I pulled the door open quickly, cursing the small bell that rang over my head, and saw Magdalena with her back to me at the end of an aisle. I dove into the next aisle as she turned and pressed my back against the shelf.

  “Hello?” I watched as Magdalena went to the front door and peered around the front of the shop. I darted to the end of the aisle I was in and hid at the end. “Lindy, is that you?” There was no response. I snuck a peek around the corner and watched as she shrugged, then ducked back behind the shelves as she made her way back to the aisle she’d been in.

  As quietly as I could, I made my way along the back of the shelves to the ornate archway that led to the tea room. I slipped through just in time to see Lindy, her strange stare fixed on the fireplace before her. She whispered something I couldn’t hear, and a small door opened up in the hearth. She stepped through it and disappeared. The door immediately sealed itself shut behind her.

  The bell over the front door rang again. “Well, hello!” I heard Magdalena say. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m just looking for someone,” I heard Tamsin’s brisk voice. She appeared in the doorway and saw me. “Did you find her?”

  “She just went in the fireplace,” I whispered so Magdalena wouldn’t hear me. “She made a door appear, then she walked through it. She’s gone.”

  Tamsin stared at the hearth. “I’ve never heard of magic like that before,” she said. “We can travel between spaces, but only if there’s a pre-existing magical boundary. We don’t just create them out of thin air. Whatever she is, it’s powerful.” She sighed. “I hate to admit this so, so much,” she said.

  “What is it?” I asked alarmed.

  “I don’t know if we can handle this on our own,” she said. “We may be in over our heads. We may need...to call our mothers.”

  Magdalena appeared in the doorway. “Oh, it’s you!” she said upon sighting me. “I thought I heard someone else come in. Where’d Lindy go?”

  I glanced at the fireplace. “It’s hard to say.”

  “Well, no matter,” she said. “That girl does seem to vanish at will. But what about the two of you? Would you like some tea?”

  “No thank you,” I said politely. “We were looking for Lindy, but she seems to have eluded us.”

  Magdalena chuckled. “That girl! She’s an odd one. Kind, but odd. Why don’t you
and your friend have a look around? Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “Okay, thank you.” I watched as she went back to the shop and turned back to the hearth, concentrating.

  “What are you doing?” asked Tamsin, watching me curiously.

  I held my hand in the air. I didn’t answer. To my delight, a tendril of red smoke leapt from my fingertips. I had done it. I didn’t even need to ask for Tamsin’s help.

  I closed my eyes and pictured Lindy going through the fireplace, trying to convey the message to Suki. I wasn’t sure it would work; she was far from me and the only other people I’d talked to were my family—when they were in the same room—but right away, I got a questioning feeling in return.

  I pictured the front of the shop and the name. I felt a general feeling of affirmation, as if she was sending me a mental thumbs-up, and the feeling dissipated. When it faded completely, it felt sort of like hanging up a phone. I sat back, impressed. She’d done it so easily. I realized then that I should probably be hanging out with other witches, not planning my next job in finance or whatever. What was I thinking? I could do other things.

  I opened my eyes to find Tamsin staring at me. “What?” I asked, a little defensively.

  “How did you do that?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, bewildered. “I just did it.”

  “It took me literal years to learn that spell,” she said. “It was one of the first ones I learned when I was a kid, so I could signal the coven if we got separated and I was lost or hurt or in trouble.”

  “Maybe you were just young,” I offered.

  “It’s not that,” she said. “It’s a really difficult piece of magic. What did you do after it? Were you communicating with Suki?”

  “I wasn’t sure if she could hear me,” I said. “But it seemed to work.”

  “Where is she?” asked Tamsin.

  “Villanova,” I said.

  “That’s like, twenty miles from here,” she said incredulously. “I mean, I know we’ve communicated in a car or at the dinner table, but--”