by M. J. Caan
“Sorry to interrupt,” said Jasmin, walking quickly into the room and giving Torie a biting glance, “but I need to get busy working on figuring out what these ingredients you discovered create. And I’ll need your help.” She passed by them, heading into the workspace at a fast clip.
“Um, sure,” said Torie, glancing at Elric as she headed for the backroom. “Can we finish this talk later?”
He nodded, watching as she went to join Jasmin.
“Where is Eddie?” Torie asked, feeling guilty that she was just now realizing the cat shifter was gone.
“They took him to Glen’s house earlier today. She can keep a much closer eye on him there and she has everything needed to help him mend,” said Jasmin. “Plus, he’s still in no shape to help us, and we can’t risk him getting hurt more than he already has been. Shifters are tough, but they have their limits.”
“So, we’re going to make a potion?” said Torie. “Is that something I may have inherited from my mother?”
At the mention of her mother, Alva appeared, translucent and glowing. She smiled at her daughter.
“You called?” she said.
“Um, no, and I will never get used to that,” said Torie. She smiled back at her mother, happy to see her after the adventures she had been through recently.
“Well, maybe you didn’t call, but we can use her help,” said Jasmin, as she looked around the workshop. “Alva, where do you keep all of your potion-making ingredients?”
Alva pointed to a large curio that hulked in the far corner of the space.
Jasmin opened the door to reveal empty shelves. She frowned, looking at the ectoplasmic form. “There’s nothing in here.”
“There most certainly is,” said Alva. “You just can’t see it. Everything is protected by a cloaking spell.”
“Oh, that’s just great,” said Jasmin. “Can you undo it for us?”
“I wish I could, my friend, but for some reason I can’t work magic in this form.”
“Well, can’t you undo the spell?” asked Torie, looking to Jasmin.
“No. Only the spell-caster can recall it.” Jasmin thought for a moment, then glanced Torie’s way, a sly grin spreading across her face.
“What is it?”
“I can’t break the spell, but maybe you can. You share your mother’s bloodline, so maybe the spell will respond to you.”
“Oh, that’s an excellent idea,” said Alva. “Certainly worth a try.”
“Alva, can you tell us the incantation you would have used?”
Alva thought hard before shaking her head. “I can’t remember.”
“That’s okay, it may not be necessary. It just would have been nice to know some of the trigger words to give Torie something to work with.” She turned to Torie and fixed her with a gaze. “The thing to remember about spells is that they are the embodiment of the caster’s will.”
“Yes, I know. Elric explained that to me.”
Jasmin frowned. “Once we get through all of this, you and I are going to have a very serious conversation about…the supernatural order of things. But for now, this cloaking spell was created with the intent to hide everything behind it; to keep it from prying eyes. What you need to do, is fix your mind on undoing that. First, close your eyes, and just reach out with your hand…reach into the cabinet and tell me what you feel.”
Torie stepped forward and did as she was told. Her hand stopped as soon as she put it in the cabinet.
“It feels like there’s a wall here, a spongy one that I can’t get past.”
“Okay that’s good,” said Jasmin. “I myself can reach fully into the cabinet and feel nothing. That means you’re sensitive to your mother’s spells. This is a good thing.”
Torie opened her eyes, withdrawing her hand. “So what do I do?”
“Well, you’re going to have to break the spell. You need to fix your intent on what you want to happen—in this case, revealing the contents of the shelves—and then make it happen. Trust the magic inside of you to do the heavy lifting.”
Torie thought back to the feeling of striking out at Isla Garner with the force in her mind. She had no idea how she did that, but it seemed to have come from the strong emotion—namely fear—that she was feeling at the time. She wasn’t afraid here, but she knew that she had to draw on something other than just her desire for the objects to appear.
She had an idea. Extending both hands until she again felt resistance, she took a deep, calming breath and pictured the wall before her vanishing. Then, eyes closed, she whispered:
“Worlds near and far, and those in between,
reveal to me now, that which can’t be seen.”
Opening her eyes, she saw the cabinet was no longer empty. Instead it was filled with small mason jars filled with herbs and powders. There was also an entire shelf that had nails driven into the edge. From each nail hung a different dried herb, each with the name of it written on a piece of tape on the shelf above. She smiled, her hand floating to her chest.
“I don’t believe it. It worked,” she said to Jasmin.
Jasmin gave her an appreciative nod. “Look at you, getting all witchy with it. But don’t get cocky…and a piece of advice. Careful calling on the powers of other worlds; you never know who or what might be listening.”
That was a sobering thought, and Torie filed it away, determined to do better next time. Provided there would be a next time.
The ghost of her mother was all smiles and began to clap soundlessly.
“Well done, daughter! I knew you had it in you.”
Torie took the compliment in stride as she watched Jasmin go about pulling down jar after jar from the cabinet and then a few of the hanging herbs as well. She carried them to the large worktable and sat them down, studying the ingredients.
“Do you know what to make with them?” asked Torie.
“I have a feeling,” she replied, absentmindedly. “Potions are just like cooking. Once you know what the ingredients are, you know how to put them together; what can’t overpower what. This for instance—” she pointed to a jar with a gray powder in it— “is Ragweed. It can only be combined with this one—” she picked up another jar filled with a white powder— “in very small amounts. The two together can be a horrendous poison. But if you mix them with the ground-up leaves of a poinsettia, and add the right incantation, it becomes a love potion.”
She studied the ingredients, muttering to herself. “The trick is to figure out what everything on that list can make when combined properly, and then decide which one is most likely the potion used by our killer.”
“That sounds like it could take all night,” said Torie. “Hey, want me to try another spell to make them combine the way we want?”
“No, no,” said Jasmin quickly. “Do that wrong and it could blow this house sky high. Even I wouldn’t try to cast a spell like that.” She huffed and put her hands on her sides. “Looks like I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way and hope I stumble onto the right batch sooner rather than later.”
“I can help with that,” said Elric. He had been standing in the doorway watching them.
“How can you help?” said Jasmin. She hadn’t meant for the words to come out as sharply as they did.
“Well, I can smell all of that from here. When we were in Trinity and I chased the killer, it smelled like all of the stuff you have on the table.”
Both Torie and Jasmin stared at him, eyebrows raised, as if to say “and?”
“Wolves have the best sense of smell of any supernatural. I can sniff out what, and how much of those for you to put together and recreate whatever the magic was that masked the killer.”
As one, their eyes widened in understanding.
“Elric, my man,” said Jasmin. “Have I ever told you that you are my new best friend? Step right on up, honey.”
23
As it turned out, it wasn’t as easy as Elric had suggested. Granted, he could make out all of the ingredients, but knowing e
xactly the ratio was a little harder than he thought it would be. Stepping back, he regarded the powders and herbs and knew there was only one way to make it work.
“I need to shift,” he said. “In my wolf form, I can sift through the layers, determine the exact makeup of each.”
“But then you can’t tell me how much of what to use,” said Jasmin.
“No; but he can tell me,” said Torie.
Jasmin looked at her friend, realizing there was no other option. Nodding, she watched as Elric dropped into his wolf form and then leapt gracefully up onto the table.
“Well I never,” said Alva’s ghost. “Allowing a wolf to put its paws on my table like that.”
Torie ignored her, reaching out to touch Elric’s mind instead.
Elric sniffed carefully at the first jar of silver powder, letting the scent run through his nose to his brain.
“He says add a little of this stuff until he says stop,” Torie said.
Jasmin did as she was told, using a baking spoon to carefully scoop a small amount at a time into a large mortar.
“That’s enough!” said Torie as Elric moved to another of the open jars, taking a delicate sniff and closing his eyes.
“He says there was more of this; twice as much as the silver powder.”
After moving on and repeating instructions, he would go back to the mortar and smell the mixture again, making sure it was becoming what he remembered. When he got to the first of the dried herbs he sniffed and then paused.
“He says this is one of the properties in the mixture, but that it smelled different. He said this one smells like the earth, but what the killer wore was a more liquid form of the same thing,” said Torie.
“A liquid form?” asked Jasmin. “Does he mean it was boiled and then added?”
Torie closed her eyes and listened. She shook her head. “No, he said it was wetter…but he’s not sure how.”
“That’s nightshade,” said Alva, drifting nearer the table. “It can’t be boiled, but you can grind it down into a paste.”
“Yes!” Torie relayed. “He thinks that’s what it was.”
Without taking her eyes off the table, Jasmin held out her hand and a large, marble pestle flew to her. She used it to start grinding out the nightshade.
“Hey, can you teach me to do that?” said Torie. “It would really come in handy.”
“There’s nothing to it. When you’re starting out and magic is new to you, you just look at the object you want, and then call to it…imagine it in your hand. It’s one of the easier summoning spells.”
Torie looked around and saw a small tin cup on a shelf on the far wall. Holding out her hand, she pictured the cup sitting in her palm.
Nothing.
She cleared her throat and loudly said, “Cup, come to my hand.”
Nothing.
Jasmin stopped grinding and looked up at her. “I didn’t mean to literally call to it. It’s an inanimate object after all, not a dog.” She looked up at Elric and shrugged. “Sorry, no offense.”
Torie ignored her friend’s banter. Maybe the cup was too big? Should she start with something smaller?
There was a silver thimble on the shelf as well. Surely there wasn’t much that was more light-weight than that. Again, she held out her hand and concentrated. She saw the thimble flying through space and landing in her hand, just as Jasmin had so casually done. She had also seen her mother do it, so in her mind there was no reason she couldn’t do it as well.
Again, nothing. The thimble didn’t even so much as wiggle.
She looked back at Jasmin, realizing the other woman was speaking to her.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“I said, how is this?” Jasmine had ground the nightshade down into a sticky paste.
Torie glanced in Elric’s direction and nodded. “He says that’s the right consistency. Half the amount you have showing.”
Before long, Elric looked at Torie and nodded his head before leaping off the table and shifting to human in mid-air. He landed with his backside to the women, his hands covering his private parts as he made for the back of the house with his clothes in tow.
“Not that I’m complaining about the view,” said Jasmin, “but we really need to teach him how to shift and keep his clothes. It’s basic shifter magic and he needs to learn it.”
Torie didn’t say anything, and that didn’t go unnoticed by Jasmin.
“Unless you like seeing him all flapping in the breeze like that?”
Torie blushed and quickly changed the subject. “So that’s the potion, huh? Do you know what it is?” She looked at the amber-colored liquid in the mortar, leaning in to sniff it as if it were cake batter waiting to be poured.
“Don’t get too close, and don’t breathe it in,” warned Jasmin, waving her off. “Yes, I know exactly what this is, and I also have a good idea who we are dealing with as well.”
“So…are you going to tell me?” Torie’s heart was racing, and she could feel her palms growing sweaty with excitement.
“It’s a variation of a sleep potion. Well, to be more accurate, it’s a cross between a sleep spell and a forget-me-now potion.”
“Forget-me-now? What is that?”
“It’s an old-world potion created by thieves back in ancient Persia. It was designed to be blown into the face of anyone that captured the bearer of the potion. It was so potent that it was capable of causing the recipient to instantly forget what they were just doing; or who was just standing in front of them.”
“That would explain why Eddie and my mother have blank spots in their memory.”
Jasmin nodded. “But here’s the thing. It doesn’t work on paranormal beings. That’s where the addition of the sleep potion additive came into play. That would boost it to work on supernaturals. It would send them into a deep comatose state, leaving them defenseless against the killer.”
“But why add the amnesia part to the mix if the sleep spell was all they needed?”
“I’m not sure. It could be that one part of the potion alone may not have been enough. Or it could have been a back-up.”
Torie’s eyes lit up. “In case the victim ever got away, like Eddie. It would ensure they couldn’t identify the killer.”
“Bingo,” answered Jasmin.
“So we know how it was done,” said Torie, “and you said you have an idea as to who or what we are dealing with?”
Jasmin’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. This is definitely the work of a witch, but not our kind. This was created by a hedge witch. They specialize in perverting nature’s gifts into dark potions. They are also dabblers in the kind of magic they can steal or mimic from others.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you and I, and all of our true sisters, are born with magic. It just doesn’t get unlocked until later in life for us. But we have a natural connection with the energies around us; we can manipulate it to do our bidding. Hedges are different. They aren’t born with power and it doesn’t reside within them. They learn it; cobble it together bit by bit. They work with roots and are very adept at creating potions. Low level magics can usually be performed by them, but they are miles away from being in our class.”
“So one of these hedges is going around killing shifters? For what?”
“Hedges are typically loners. They don’t even congregate in groups with one another for fear that some other hedge will steal what they have or copy what they know. They are a nuisance and generally looked down upon, but I’ve never heard of one being dangerous. And they certainly wouldn’t try attacking a shifter; that’s way out of their league.”
They were both quiet, contemplating what they had just learned.
“What about the blood sample Max gave you?” said Torie.
Jasmin walked over to her purse and retrieved the sample, sitting it on the table between them.
“We can use this to trace the person it came from. But we have to be careful with the spell we cast. Blood magic is se
rious business.”
“But it can lead us to the hedge witch. Maybe we don’t have to wait for them to attack us. We can go on the offense.”
Jasmin nodded slowly. “Maybe. Or maybe this isn’t from a hedge.”
Torie looked at her questioningly. “But Max caught them killing Taylor. It has to be the same one that broke into the vet’s office in Trinity.”
“Exactly. But judging from their description of what happened, I’m not so sure that was the hedge. They aren’t supernatural creatures. They certainly can’t outrun or fight off a werewolf. Something isn’t right here,” Jasmin said, rubbing her temples in frustration.
“Aspirin?” offered Torie.
“That would be great.”
Rather than go and get it from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, Torie held out her hand and again firmly said, “Aspirin.”
Again, nothing happened. She frowned and shook her head as she made her way to the bathroom.
“Give it time,” called Jasmin after her as she went back to studying the vial of blood and the mixture in front of her. By the time Torie returned with two white tablets and a cup of water, she had an idea.
“Maybe, we can still make this work,” she said. “We can cast a tracking spell on the blood, and also use it to mix in with this nasty little potion the hedge witch cooked up. That would make the owner of the blood even more susceptible to the sleep spell than anyone he or she would have used it on.”
Torie thought for a moment, her brow furrowed. “What if it doesn’t work? Do we fight? What kind of a chance do we really stand against something that can defeat a werewolf?” She was trying not to panic at the thought. “Maybe we should let the cops handle it.”
Jasmin put her hands on her hips. “What do you mean what kind of chance do we stand? Two badass witches and a couple of shifters? We are nobody’s joke.”
“I hardly qualify. I can’t even summon objects, and um, Fionna is a squirrel.”
“Yeah, with really sharp teeth.”