Big Witch Energy
Page 9
“I know this,” she says. “The elders are appointed by the supreme wizards, and the head of the Board of Witches is the archmage.”
“Right.” I blink. “Currently that is Ziggy Cox.”
“Ziggy. That doesn’t sound like a very powerful name.”
“Don’t tell him that. He’ll turn you into a caterpillar.”
Her eyebrows fly up to her hairline. “Really?”
“No. But you don’t want to be on his bad side.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling.
“You’ll meet him when you go for your interview.”
“What? Interview?” She jerks up straight, her mouth open. “Nobody told me that.”
“I’m telling you now. I don’t know when it’ll be, but the Board of Elders will need to interview you.”
“Why? What are they going to ask me? Like a job interview?” She blinks rapidly. “What if I don’t pass? What happens then?”
“Calm down.” I pat the air, trying to reassure her. “We’ll prepare you for the interview. It’ll be fine.”
Her eyes are huge. “Easy for you to say,” she mutters. “Felise and Magan told me that many of your ancestors were archmages.”
“That’s right.”
“Do you want to be archmage someday?”
My face tightens. “Jesus, no.”
“What about a supreme wizard?”
“That’s not going to happen.”
She frowns. “Why not?”
My insides tighten. “Never mind.” I wave a hand. “I told you about not being able to conjure money.”
“Yes. That’s disappointing.”
“There are other rules like that.”
“The charity thing.”
“Yes. Also, you can’t use a spell to make someone smarter.”
“Also disappointing. How about stupider?”
I have to laugh. “There’s no specific rule against that. As well, you can’t use your power to interfere with life lessons, like embarrassment, revenge, delayed gratification. Learning to work hard for something. And, uh… heartbreak.”
She purses her lips. “Okay.”
“Witches have to respect copyright law, so we can’t use our powers to conjure brand names.”
“Ah. Like Louboutins.”
“Exactly. Believe me, Felise has tried. But even witches have to work for their money if they want designer shoes. This also means witches cannot use their powers to create things for sale.”
“Oh.” She sits forward. “So I can’t create my designs using magic?”
“Not if you want to sell them.”
“And when you build houses… you have to do it the traditional way with a hammer and nails? Not magic?”
“That’s correct. But…” I too lean forward. “There is a loophole. We can use spells to make people love our houses. That’s an enchantment.”
“So you could build shitty houses and then make people love them.”
I give her a disappointed look. “Hey. We don’t do that.”
“I’m just asking! Hypothetically.”
“We take pride in our work. It’s the highest quality. But people have a special feeling of comfort and sanctuary when they buy one of our homes.”
She nods.
“One of the most important laws to know is that witches can’t use their powers to take over the Rucker realm. It’s a serious crime. The punishment is becoming a stuffed fish.”
She blinks. “What kind of fish?”
I shake my head. What the fuck? “Does that matter?”
“I suppose not.” She pauses. “I had quite the conversation with Magan and Felise the other night. About the patriarchal nature of the coven.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“I think being on the Board of Elders needs to be more available to women witches. They make the laws for everyone, so everyone should be involved in making the laws.”
“Jesus Christ.”
She tilts her head. “Shouldn’t you be invoking your own, uh, deities when you curse?”
I rub my forehead. “Sometimes I do. But living in Rucker society, we pretty much absorb a lot of that culture.”
Her mind is… interesting. Creative. Curious. Unconventional.
She might make me lose my mind.
I need a sense of the strength of her power. That night at the Singing Horse when we conjured up a white flower, I felt strong energy. I want to confirm that. Because there’s something nobody seems to have thought of, and it could be important.
I pull my talisman out of my pocket.
Romy watches as I hold it by the leather cord. “What is that?”
“It’s a talisman. It belonged to my father.”
“But what is it?” Her nose wrinkles.
“It’s a raven skull. Not a real skull. It’s made of metal, with amethysts.”
She inspects it. “Cool.”
“Try to take it from me.”
Her eyes shift, she gives me a quizzical look, then reaches out her hand.
I keep my palm flat, the object lying on it. As she reaches for it, it vibrates.
Her eyes widen. Her hand comes closer. I don’t move.
“Concentrate,” I tell her quietly.
A notch appears between her eyebrows. Her fingers are near the raven skull when it rolls off my hand and falls to the rug. The amethysts glow.
Romy glances up at me.
“Take it,” I encourage her.
She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and bends forward. She gets so close to it I think she’s going to get it. I realize I’m holding my breath, watching, waiting. Her fingertips grow closer… and almost touch it when it rolls away from her.
I scoop it up and put it back in my pocket.
She lifts her head and meets my eyes. “What was that?”
“A test.”
“Did I pass?”
“You did okay.”
Her eyebrows slope down and her lips droop. “Just okay?” She seems really downcast by that.
“You did fine. Let’s move on. We have lots more to cover.”
Her lips twist into a dissatisfied pout, and she sighs.
“Witches with great powers become supreme wizards, with the archmage being the leader of all.”
She nods.
“Let’s talk about spells, charms, enchantments, and hexes.”
We go over the different forms of magic. Then we take a break. I use her bathroom, taking the chance to further inspect her home. It’s spotless and tidy and… bland. Nice though. It doesn’t tell me much about her personality, because I already know she is not bland. Even though I suspect she tries to be.
When I return to the office, she has drinks and a plate of cookies for us… dammit, chocolate chip cookies. My favorite. And they’re not packaged cookies; they seem to be homemade. Fresh and soft. I can’t resist one. Maybe two.
She sits on the couch beside me so we can both see the book I’m looking at. She’s been taking notes on her iPad. It’s an unusual book of shadows, but I guess there’s no reason she can’t do that.
Sitting next to her, I’m aware of her warmth, her scent, the brush of her hair against my shoulder when she leans over. I guzzle the glass of Coke she poured me, grateful for the ice. I try to focus on teaching her how to make a spell.
“You start with understanding the problem you’re trying to fix. Always remember—be careful what you wish for.”
I meet her eyes, and she nods solemnly. “That’s always good advice.”
“Yeah.” I stare into sapphire and cobalt sparkles. Then I drag my gaze back to the ancient text. “Ask yourself questions about the current situation—who, what, when, where. Why.”
“This I can do,” she says confidently. “I’m good at analyzing information.”
I nod thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s a big part of it. We always want to use our powers carefully, and it’s important to make the correct decisions.”
“That’s
my whole life.” She sighs. “Making the right decisions.”
“I’m going to tell you something different.”
“What?” She gazes back at me.
“You also have to consider how you feel about the situation.”
She blinks.
“You have to consider your emotions. Also how others feel about the situation. It helps to write this all down.”
“This seems like a long process,” she complains. “Are you sure there’s no magic wand I can wave?”
I grin. “Nope. Then you have to think about what you want the new situation to be. Ask the same questions. Write it all down. Consider if you can break the problem into smaller, more manageable problems. Start with the goal and work backward.”
“Now you’re talking my language.” She smiles. “That’s exactly how I manage a project at work. The client comes to me with a problem, we figure out what they want the solution to look like, and work backward, breaking it into smaller projects.”
“Yeah. That’s it.” I pause. “That’s what my job is like too. I’m not the designer, but I manage the project—taking the client and the designer’s vision and making it happen with all the other tradespeople.”
“Right.” She tilts her head. “Exactly. It is the same. I bet you’re good at your job.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Just something about you. You seem very… on top of things. You’re a good communicator. I bet you deal with scope creep and budgets with a firm hand.”
I purse my lips. “I try. You have to keep clients happy though.”
“I bet you’re good at that too.”
“All this praise is going to my head,” I say dryly.
She laughs. “It can be a frustrating job too.”
“Oh yeah. Clients who have unrealistic expectations…”
“Yes! Holding everyone accountable….” She nods.
Somehow we get off on a tangent. I could talk about work forever, and Romy’s both interested and interesting, sharing her own experiences.
“Okay, back to studying,” I eventually say.
“Right.” She lifts her chin.
“Who knew your tech knowledge would help you be a witch?”
Her smile beams. “I like it.”
“Setting goals.” I refocus.
“That’s solving big problems. Like, what if I just want to conjure up some scrambled eggs?”
I can’t help it. I laugh out loud. “We’ll start with small things like that, but the process is the same. Over time, you’ll just know what to do.”
“If you say so.”
“The next step is to make your plan.”
She nods confidently.
“That’s what you use your grimoire for.”
“All right here.” She taps the iPad.
“If you’re not sure what to do, you can talk to experienced witches. You can also do research. There are lots of books.” I pull out a piece of paper. “This is a list of resources you can use.”
She studies the titles of the books and names of the authors. “Where can I get these? Amazon?”
“Possibly. The library has them. Felise and Magan sell some books in their shop. Or you can borrow from us.”
“Okay.”
“There may be materials and symbols you’ll need.”
“Such as…?”
“Incense. Music. Chants. Herbs. Stones. You need to know what will power the spell. For something big, it may mean combining multiple sources. The energy can be stored, either in your own body or in potions or amulets or talismans. But most of the energy will need to be channeled through your body, because your body is your only interface between the physical and nonphysical worlds.”
“You’re losing me again,” she mutters. She picks up her drink and gulps some Coke.
“That’s okay. It’ll all make sense. Maybe that’s enough for today.” I need to get out of here before I put my hands on her. I’ve been restraining myself all afternoon.
“It’s only… four thirty.” She checks her iPad. “We could do more.”
“I don’t want to overwhelm you.” I toss back the rest of my drink. “I better go. I’ll tell you what to read for next time.”
“Oh. You’re leaving?”
“Yeah.” I don’t look at her as I write down some tasks for her.
“Maybe we could… have dinner?”
I go still. Shit. I would love nothing more than to stay and explore her unique mind and stare at her sexy mouth. But that can’t happen. We’re going to have to deal with this. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The words come out tersely from my locked jaw. I look up and make myself meet her eyes. “I know there’s an attraction between us. But given this situation, I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be involved… that way.”
“Oh, I know that!” She laughs lightly. “I already figured that out. It was just dinner.”
“Oh.” Damn. “Okay. Well, work on this. How about we get together next Saturday again?”
“Sounds great.” She smiles. “Thank you so much for doing this.”
I stand and she follows me to her door. “See you next weekend.”
“Sure! Have a great week.”
As I leave her building and walk to my car, disappointment settles in my gut like a rock. I would love to have dinner with her. And more. I finally met a woman I’m really interested in, for more than just smashing and dashing. And she’s off-limits.
She didn’t just do okay today. She did phenomenal. Excitement fizzes in my veins. This is going to be interesting.
Aw, shit. I spent the whole afternoon talking about magic—and I fucking loved it.
12
Romy
I did okay. Fine, Trace said.
That’s not good enough. I have to be perfect. I can hear my mother urging me to work harder. Study more. Go for the A+. Except, if she knew I was working on magic, she’d be horrified. No. She wouldn’t even believe it.
Trace is obviously smart. Knowledgeable. He’s good at explaining things. But I’m totally out of my depth. I can’t stop asking smart-ass questions to cover up how dumb I feel.
I stop on the sidewalk in front of the Charming Chalice. It’s tiny, with a black-and-white-striped awning and black door flanked by white mullioned windows with pretty displays. Two ficus trees in black pots sit in front of the windows, with colorful petunias spilling out. The name of the shop is in gold letters on the glass of the door.
I pull the door to enter. I’m met with the scent of lavender, roses, jasmine, and patchouli. I stand on the worn maple floor and survey the interior—attractive tables laden with various products, built-in white shelves along one wall, also displaying wares, and the other long wall exhibits various art pieces. The shop is narrow but long, and groups of customers talk among themselves, soft new-agey music drifting above the chatter.
“Romy!” Felise looks up from behind the counter. “You came!”
She rushes over to hug me. I’m going to have to get used to this. “I did. I love your shop.”
“Thanks! I’m excited to show you around. Magan’s looking after some customers.” She jerks her head, and I see Magan’s auburn tresses at the back of the store.
“I brought you girls coffees from Rooster Roasters.” I’m holding the cardboard tray.
“Oh, nice! Thank you!”
I set it on the counter. I remembered they both like lattes, while I have my coffee with a splash of milk. I pick up my cup and take a sip, and Felise does the same.
“Let’s start up front,” Felise says. “Here are all our incenses.”
“Is that what I smelled when I walked in?”
“Yes. We use our signature blend here in the shop. It’s called Amazing Goddess. It helps you access your higher self.”
I nod, keeping a straight face. This all seems a little woo-woo to me, and after my session with Trace yesterday, I’m not really sure if I have it in me to learn about all this bizarre stuff.
She shows me the art prints on the wall.
“I was thinking of this one when we were at your place the other day.” She stops and points to a framed print on the wall. It’s all shades of pink in a somewhat abstract design but with flowers, leaves, a pair of hands, the sun and the moon, and it says magic in making. “It seems appropriate for you, and also it would look great in your gray condo. Brighten it up a bit.”
“I love it.”
“It’s yours.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“No! It’s a gift. From Magan and me.”
“Yes.” Magan joins us. “Hi, Romy.”
“Hi!” I hug her too. “Thank you both. I know just where to put it.”
I point out the coffee I brought for Magan. She fetches it, then takes me on the rest of the tour while Felise rings up some purchases at the counter. We look at all the different types of crystals and their properties—abundance, stability, peace, support, and more.
“They’re so pretty.” I finger a bracelet of rose quartz.
“Aren’t they? And useful.”
Felise rejoins us. “We applied for a license to dispense cannabis,” she says. “But the government is being really slow and stupid about it. So who knows if we’ll ever get it.”
I blink. “That’s too bad.”
“I’m sure that would greatly help our cash flow,” Magan says.
“No doubt.”
Lastly, they show me a line of pretty skincare products that don’t seem to have any witchy purpose besides moisturizing and preventing wrinkles. They all smell divine, and I pick up a tube of hand cream to purchase.
“It’s your scent,” Felise says. “Vanilla.”
I tilt my head. “How do you know I like vanilla?” I expect some kind of metaphysical answer.
“You smell like vanilla.”
“Oh. Yes, I do use vanilla-scented products.”
“You’ll love this one. Also, we have some really nice vanilla candles.”