Hex at a House Party

by Gretchen Galway

  “It’s my insurance,” she said. “I can’t risk having any passengers. My rates are high enough with the van. It’s new and the payments are killing me. I’m still paying comprehensive.”

  “I understand. It’s no problem. Sorry to put you on the spot.”

  “I’ll get you that quiche. How about a dollop of crème fraîche on top? I’ve got vanilla scones too.”

  “Sounds good.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen. I found a seat with my back to the window and frowned at my tea. I’d assumed Gail would let me hitch a ride with her into Fort Bragg. Now I’d have to find another way to get to my Jeep. Nathan’s car was there too, which left Warren, and I didn’t want to bother the old man just before his wife’s funeral.

  I took out my phone. I’d have to hail a stranger for a ride, which I’d been trying to avoid. The driver could be anyone or anything, and I might not know until it was too late.

  Nathan walked into the dining room, grabbed an energy bar from a plate, and stood at my table, tearing open the wrapper. “You and I need to get our wheels,” he said.

  I held up my phone. “I was just about to get a ride. You want to come with me?”

  “Actually, I thought we could ask the caterer. Her van says she’s in Fort Bragg.”

  “She won’t take passengers,” I said. “I just asked.”

  He rolled his eyes and took a bite of the energy bar, chewing with the annoyance he seemed to have for everything and everyone in his life. “This is why the planet is burning,” he said. “No consideration for the big picture.”

  I scrolled through the potential drivers on my phone. Would a supernatural enemy be more likely to drive a Chevy or a Subaru? “Are you coming with me? I need to know what to tell the driver.”

  He flopped down next to me. “Yeah, I’ll come. But it means bringing more protection,” he said. “Crystal took charge of most of the security around here. With her gone, Brightness knows what kind of nasty forces are coming this way.”

  I showed him the driver I’d chosen, a scary-looking guy with a face tattoo and a scar across his eye. “How about Mike here?” I asked. “He’s not hiding anything.”

  Nathan frowned, then nodded. “Yeah. I guess that’s as good as we can do.”

  Fifteen minutes later, each of us equipped with extra metal, stones, and plant matter, Nathan and I sat in the middle row of Mike’s black minivan, driving south on Highway 1. Mike was as friendly as he looked, scowling silently at the road ahead, which suited me fine. I never liked chatting with strangers.

  “Do you think Tierra’s cheating on me?” Nathan asked suddenly.

  I turned away from the view of the ocean cliffs. “Wha—”

  “They spent the night together,” he said. “The night Crystal was killed. Who says they didn’t…” He made a rude gesture with his hands.

  I looked away from him. Not my monkeys, not my circus. Other people’s love lives always made me uncomfortable. “I don’t know,” I said weakly.

  “See? You think it’s possible,” he said.

  “I don’t think anything. I have no idea.”

  “He’s a Hawk,” Nathan continued. “Those old witch families are the worst. They’re twisted with Shadow. Can’t be trusted.”

  “I’m a Bellrose,” I said. Not quite as old as Hawk, but nearly. And my father’s infamous exploits over the past few decades had brought fresh attention to our historic name.

  He gave me a surly look that seemed to say See? My point, then fell silent.

  Mike, proving to be as harmless as he looked, dropped us off on the street outside the building that used to be Phil’s craft brewery. Now it appeared to be a nondescript warehouse with a chained-off parking lot, invisible if you weren’t staring straight at it with your hand on a redwood focus bead you’d carved yourself. The Protectorate had moved our vehicles to the street, where they’d each collected multiple parking tickets.

  Nathan tore his off the windshield, saluted me with them, then got in his Hyundai and drove away. I collected my tickets carefully with the intention to bill the Protectorate for the charges—just like the old days.

  Before I went back to Hawk Ranch, I drove up the street to Gail’s Goodies to confirm it was her current location. A narrow storefront, painted salmon pink, welcomed diners and takeout. Two people sat inside, each staring at a laptop, and another was in line. The young woman I’d seen at Hawk Ranch stood behind the counter. I watched a few minutes, trying to determine any magical forces or interference, sensing only the enticing spell of sweetened carbohydrates.

  On the drive back north, I tried to imagine Tierra and Warren in a passionate embrace, but either my own prejudice about the age difference between them or its true, inherent ridiculousness prevented me from seeing it.

  I could believe Tierra would cheat on Nathan, but with Warren? I wasn’t sure. She loved Warren, but was it more than a former apprentice’s adoration and appreciation for a mentor?

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  When I got back to Hawk Ranch, I found Tierra giving Birdie a lesson in the living room. A breakfast tray sat on the coffee table, remaining scraps of fruit and toast scattered over two plates. Tierra was using a wand to lift individual crumbs and carry them to Birdie’s open—laughing—mouth.

  “Impressive,” I said. “Did you eat the entire meal that way?”

  “Brightness no,” Tierra said. “I can barely lift a grape.”

  “But you moved books,” Birdie said.

  “Gravity moved those,” Tierra said. “I only nudged them into place.”

  “She can probably do more at her own home,” I said. “Just like I could lift you to the ceiling at mine.”

  Tierra turned to me, eyebrows raised. “You could do that?”

  “Only at home,” I said. “A grape’s probably my limit in another witch’s house.”

  “Crystal’s vibe is still strong,” Tierra said with a sigh. “She dominated this place, that’s for sure. And everyone in it.”

  “Even Warren?” Birdie asked.

  Tierra waved the wand, and a crumb fell onto the couch. “Especially Warren,” she said. “One reason he practically lives in his studio is because it’s the only place he can call his own.”

  “Is his power stronger in the barn, like your house is for you?” Birdie asked me. “Maybe he uses it for his art. I really like his sculptures. They’re creepy, but I like creepy.”

  “My studio has concentrated power, but it’s only for what I’m making.” I played with one of my bracelets. “It doesn’t give me broad powers, like lifting things and throwing them around. It all goes into my work.”

  “Is the same for you?” Birdie asked Tierra. “Your power goes into your puppets and props and things?”

  Tierra, waving the wand at the breakfast tray, shrugged. “I guess,” she said vaguely. Then she looked up at me. “Hey, were we ever going to go on that hike?”

  “Right,” I said. “Maybe later today? Three, three thirty?”

  “Sounds g— Oh, is that Warren?” Tierra twisted around in her seat to look at the door leading outside to the carriage house, but it was Nathan who came in. Smile falling, Tierra sank back into the couch.

  Dressed in running gear again, Nathan strode through the living room seating area. “Just heading out,” he said. “Forgot my bandana.”

  He walked past them and bounded up the stairs. Tierra turned her attention back to the wand in her hand, slapping it against her palm.

  “Birdie, now try blocking this toast I’m going to throw at you,” she said. “Ready?”

  Wiggling and smiling, Birdie sat up straight in her chair. “Give me a second.” She narrowed her eyes and put a hand on the necklace I’d remade for her. Inhaled deeply. Laughed, then sobered. “Hold on. No, it’s OK. Ready. I think. No, wait. It’s good. I’m good. It’s fine. Go ahead.”

  “Are you sure?” Tierra asked, shooting me a grin. A scrap of toast, no bigger than a fingernail, rose from the plate between th
em.

  Birdie inhaled again and nodded. I could feel the curtain of energy shimmer around her head and torso, and I made a mental note to teach her later how to protect her feet. Even experienced witches forgot to cover their feet.

  The toast hovered in front of Birdie’s face, about an arm’s length away, then shot toward her like a spitball in math class.

  It bounced off an invisible barrier and fell to the floor.

  “Yes!” Birdie punched the air. “I did that, right? Not you?”

  “That was you,” Tierra said.

  Birdie punched the air again. “All right. Now do something bigger.”

  “It’s not the size, it’s the power,” I said. “A bullet is a lot more dangerous than a pillow and much harder to stop.”

  Nathan’s footsteps sounded on the stairs, loud and hurried. Tierra frowned and held up the wand again. “This time cover your whole body, not just your head. I’m going to aim it somewhere else. See if you can stop me.”

  “I was just going to suggest that,” I said, nodding. Antagonists didn’t aim at your shield; they aimed at your unprotected spots.

  “But—” Squinting, Birdie pulled at her hair. “It’s like trying to cover a king-size bed with a pillowcase. It just doesn’t fit.”

  “Keep trying,” Tierra said. “It’ll stretch.”

  Birdie screwed her eyes completely shut, and I could feel her straining to produce enough magic to cover herself.

  “Use the beads,” I said.

  Tierra held up the wand, and another crumb of toast lifted into the air, ascending in a bubble of pale green energy. “I think she’s got it.”

  But just as the crumb began to spring toward Birdie, the door behind them opened, Warren came in, and the toast shot into Birdie’s chest in a blaze of white light.

  “No!” Tierra cried.

  Birdie gasped and slumped over.

  I got there before she hit the floor, my heart in my throat. “Birdie? Can you hear me?” Kneeling beside her, I cradled her in my arms, casting out my magic, belatedly, to envelop her in a protective sphere. Her eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

  “Is she alive?” Nathan asked.

  My fingers pressed into her neck, found her pulse, quick and light. Her face, though, was still frozen in shock. “What happened?” I demanded, turning to Tierra. “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything!” she cried, gaping at Birdie, the wand, everyone else in the room. “I didn’t! It was just the toast. A little tap, nothing else!”

  “It put a hole in her shirt,” Nathan said. “Look, right there. It’s still smoking.”

  I found the bullet-sized hole in Birdie’s sweatshirt and slipped my finger through the heavy fleece, the T-shirt, and the tank top beneath.

  Rather than continue to probe blindly, I unzipped the sweatshirt and pushed down the fabric at her neckline to see where the scrap of bread, hot to the touch, was stuck to her flesh, vibrating as if it was attempting to break the skin.

  I put my palm over it and cut every strand of magic, even Birdie’s own, that clung to her. I used rough, broad strokes, heedless of who else I might strike as I sliced through the magic. I tore through an old spell of Crystal’s that guarded her cat from harm; I broke Warren’s vision-enhancement around the telescope; I snapped a barbed string that wrapped Tierra to Nathan, a lover’s knot that had gotten twisted.

  When the last spell was broken, Birdie suddenly sat up, brought a hand to her chest, and brushed the little shard of toast away.

  “Man, that was crazy,” Birdie said, laughing. “I better not do that again.”

  I looked around the room at each of the other witches, one by one.

  Tierra, kneeling in front of me, looked as horrified as an innocent witch would look when her spell went wrong. Warren, standing behind her, held a trembling hand to his lips and kept glancing warily at Tierra. Nathan, hands braced on the back of the couch, looked appalled—or maybe just annoyed his run had been delayed.

  “She’s all right,” I said, trying to see if any of them appeared disappointed, but they all looked relieved.

  The only magic fingerprints I’d been able to detect had been Tierra’s and Birdie’s. If either of the two men had been involved, he’d acted through someone else.

  Warren stepped forward and put a hand on Tierra’s shoulder, whether for his own support or for hers, I wasn’t sure. Tierra gave him a grateful look and covered his hand with hers while Nathan shook his head in disgust.

  “Let’s get her upstairs,” Nathan said. “Tierra, maybe you could try to undo some of this damage and cast a few healing spells. They’ll work better, coming from the witch who hurt her.”

  “But I didn’t!” Tierra said. “It was just a simple—”

  “Just a simple projectile spell,” Nathan snapped.

  “It was my fault,” Birdie said. “I tried something new. I think… it bounced or something.”

  “Were you amplifying?” I asked.

  “I was trying to stretch the pillowcase over the bed,” Birdie said, standing up. She was a little wobbly, but her eyes were clear.

  Tierra glanced at me. “It’s possible. Using those beads, she could’ve gotten it backward and pulled it in instead of pushing it away,” she said. “But of course it’s still my fault. I’m obviously not trained to be a teacher.”

  “Maybe it’s time to stop all the lessons,” Nathan said.

  Nodding sadly, Tierra got to her feet and came over to me, arms outstretched. “Nate’s right. But I can help her heal.”

  I wasn’t going to let anyone alone with her. “I’ll manage on my own.”

  Looking hurt, Tierra stepped back. “Of course. Understandable.”

  “I’m fine, everybody,” Birdie said, yawning so wide I heard her jaw pop. “Really. I’m a witch, remember? I’ve got this.”

  I squeezed her shoulder. “Let’s get you in bed to sleep it off, whatever it was.”

  While the others stood by, I led Birdie upstairs to her bedroom. I tapped her closed door three times, pressed my palm against the wood to break the guardian spell I’d put there, used the old key, tapped five times, and waited nine seconds before I turned the knob.

  “Why am I so tired?” Birdie asked, shuffling to the bed. She sat on the edge, kicked off one shoe, then fell onto her back, yawning again.

  “You drained the well of your power,” I said. “You really gave that all you had, didn’t you?”

  “It was a really small pillowcase. I had to stretch it a lot,” she mumbled, closing her eyes.

  I locked the door behind me, recast the spells, and went over to the bed where she was already asleep. I removed her remaining shoe and pulled a quilt over her.

  For the next hour, I sat at her side, having flashbacks to yesterday when I’d done the same for Zoe. Birdie wasn’t under any spells that I could find, however, just drained, and every once in a while she would open her eyes, see I was sitting there, and smile as she fell back asleep.

  For a witch who’d just been punctured by a piece of toast, she looked ridiculously happy. If her theory was correct, she’d pulled the toast into herself—and she was proud of it. Much more exciting than ringing up returns at Cypress Hardware.

  We had to find her a real teacher. Accidents were inevitable, but a trained teacher could minimize them and had the tools to correct mistakes before tragedy unfolded.

  No more lessons until we got home.

  Provided we got that far.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Late afternoon, I left the room to get something to eat for Birdie, who had said she was hungry right before falling asleep again. Just outside the door, Tierra was walking by with her purse and coat.

  “How’s Birdie?” she asked quickly.

  “Fine,” I said. “Resting. But fine.”

  She sighed. “Thank God,” she said. “Listen, I’m taking Warren to Mendocino to pick up a few of his pieces from the show. If he’s up for it, we’ll stop and get dinner down there. I
think it’ll be good for him to get out.”

  I nodded, glancing at my watch. It was already after four. “Nice of you to look after him.”

  “You’d do the same, wouldn’t you?” she asked. “For a witch who’d taught you everything you knew?”

  My first thought was of my father. “I probably would,” I said. And then added silently, But that doesn’t mean I should.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I canceled the meals for the rest of the week,” she said. “There’s tons of leftovers, and restaurants in Fort Bragg aren’t that far away. It’s just… having a nonmag outsider coming and going all day is hard on Warren. Every time he sees that catering van in the driveway, he starts obsessing about money again. He feels guilty—you know, about Crystal being… unhappy. It’s tearing him apart.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said. “And I’m sure Birdie will be too. We’re used to taking care of ourselves.”

  “Great. Thanks. And who knows what kind of witches are going to start showing up for Crystal’s funeral. Strangers should follow protocol and stay off the property until right before the ceremony, but I’d like to practice a memorial charm and help Warren with his own farewells. It’ll be exhausting to hide all the magic from Gail and her staff.”

  “Good point. She was a little too observant anyway.”

  We walked together down the stairs.

  “Hey, let’s do that hike tomorrow,” she said. “You can’t go home without exploring the coast at least a little. There are incredible succulents growing on the bluff about a mile north. You’ve got to see them for yourself.”

  “I’d like that,” I said.

  With a wave, she went out the front door, and I continued on to the kitchen where I found Nathan standing in front of the refrigerator, scowling as he rifled through the dishes and containers.

  “Tierra just left,” he said, hauling out a platter wrapped in foil and kicking the refrigerator door shut.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I saw her.”

  He jerked open a drawer, banged the utensils around, pulled out a serving fork. “She went with Warren.”