by Nova Nelson
I arched an eyebrow at her. “You have good china?”
“Of course.”
“Where? I’ve never seen it.”
“That’s because I packed it all away and brought out the wooden bowls the day another Fifth Wind witch came to stay with me. Steep learning curve for us, you know.”
A knock on the door—four knocks, to be exact—kept me from responding, and Oliver, Ruby, and I exchanged curious glances. No one was expecting a guest.
Ruby stood. “Oh joy! An unexpected visitor late at night. This has never been the start of something terrible.”
She answered the door, opening it just a crack at first, but once she saw who it was, her posture relaxed, she sighed, and then opened the door wider so Oliver and I could see the guests.
I only recognized one of the two people standing on the doorstep: Mayor Cordelia Esperia.
Based on Oliver’s aghast expression, I probably should have recognized the other woman.
I didn’t have to wonder who she was for long.
“Ms. True,” the mayor said, “I would appreciate it if you would invite us in to speak with you and Ms. Ashcroft.”
Fifth Wind witches business? And straight from the mayor? Not a good sign.
Ruby stepped to the side, allowing them space to pass, but didn’t say a word.
The women glided in.
“Hello, Mr. Bridgewater,” said the mayor.
“Mayor Esperia. High Priestess Springsong.” Oliver bowed his head respectfully as he addressed them.
High Priestess? Oh, for fang’s sake. Anyone who demanded a title like that had to have unicorn swirls coming out of her ears.
Regardless, it also meant she probably wielded quite a bit of power, and, sure enough, as she stepped closer, I could feel it radiating from her.
After smiling graciously at Oliver, the high priestess closed the distance between us and offered her hand like a wet rag. Was I supposed to shake it or kiss it? For sure wasn’t doing the latter. “Ms. Ashcroft,” she said, “so nice to finally meet you.”
I shook her hand, and immediately realized that she had been expecting a kiss, at least that’s what her limp-fish grip indicated when I gave her my usual firm grip.
Also, “So nice to finally meet you”? What was up with that nonsense? I didn’t know who she was, but if she knew who I was and wanted to meet me, I wasn’t hard to find. She could have just come and said hello.
Yeah, I was not the high priestess’s biggest fan, if you couldn’t tell.
“Who are you exactly?” I asked. The question made Mayor Esperia’s face tighten, Oliver flinch, and Ruby stifle a giggle.
The high priestess flashed Ruby a scornful glance before returning her attention to me. “I’m the High Priestess Springsong, leader of the Eastwind Coven.”
“Ah, that’s why I don’t know who you are,” I said. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Going door-to-door asking folks if they’ve heard of a man called Jesus Christ, or what?”
Springsong maintained her air of dignity as she said, “I don’t know who that is. We’re here because we have a problem, and we could use the help of two Fifth Winds to solve it with the utmost discretion.”
Ruby cleared her throat. “I hope one will do. As I’ve told you countless times, Serenity, I’m retired.”
Springsong nodded acknowledgement. “I understand. Of course, retirement can be expensive—unexpected health costs and the like—and it’s always nice to have a bit more of a nest egg saved up.”
Ruby winked at her. “I’m doing just fine for myself. Thank you, though.”
Mayor Esperia stepped forward. “A witch is missing. A North Wind. It’s been a week since her circle has heard from her, and we assume the worst.”
“While I appreciate your pessimism,” Ruby cut in, “I don’t know that Nora will be much help unless the witch is definitely dead.”
The high priestess reached in her baggy sleeve and pulled out a photograph, holding it out to me. “Have you communicated with this spirit in the last week?”
I looked down at the picture. The face of the girl seemed vaguely familiar, like perhaps I’d passed her on the street a few times, but in her living, breathing form, not as a spirit I’d encountered. I’d spoken to a handful of random ghosts over the last week—I usually do as they cross my path or seek me out and vent—but none had her youthful face or that sleek, straight, light-blonde hair. “No, sorry. I haven’t seen her.”
Springsong nodded. “Very well. Perhaps she’s still alive. Or perhaps she’s crossed over and has no desire to peek back through the veil.” She held out the picture, shaking it at me. I took the hint and grabbed it, slipping it in my pants pocket. “If she does find you, her name is Grace Merryweather. Please let us know so we can stop searching for her.”
“Okay, but a missing person’s case sounds more like something for Bloom and Manchester to look into,” I said. “If she’s not dead, I’m no help. And if she is dead, I’m still no help.”
The mayor answered for her. “As we said, we’re trying to use discretion on this matter. We like to keep Coven business within the witch community and keep this matter out of the public eye until we have a better feel for what might have happened to her. Say, for example, she is dead, and it was at the hands of a werewolf.” She paused, and I couldn’t help but wonder where that scenario had come from. I didn’t have to wonder long. She continued with, “That would be a messy situation indeed, especially with the Werewolf Protection Act up for a vote at the next High Council session. If the public learns that there’s a witch missing, theories will start to swirl, and we won’t be able to control the unrest that might follow as each person’s bias is thrown into stark relief by the unfounded theory he or she presents.”
Springsong nodded. “Yes, it could become incredibly divisive.”
“You sure that’s how it would play out?” I asked, feeling like there was a lot going unsaid. “Because there were two unsolved werewolf murders when I first came to town, and while it was stressful, especially for me when I was a suspect in the first one, it didn’t tear the town apart.”
Springsong and Esperia exchanged patient glances before the mayor said, “The town processes the death of a witch much differently from the death of a werewolf. Werewolves act rashly and get themselves killed all the time. Not so with our kind.” She smiled, but there was little genuinely amicable about it. “Well then,” she said, “we ought to get going. Please do send an owl if Grace’s spirit contacts you. Her circle is absolutely lost without her. Totally devastated. Little more tragic than a circle losing a member.” She tsked at her own words then nodded at Oliver. “Mr. Bridgewater, keep up the good work with Ms. Ashcroft.” And finally, she addressed Ruby, who, much to my surprise, had managed to keep her mouth shut through the avalanche of unicorn swirls that had poured from the mayor’s lips. “Thank you for allowing us a word with your tenant.”
Once the two witches were gone, each of us took a seat at the parlor table without saying a word. While Oliver appeared stunned by the sudden appearance of two high-ranking officials, Ruby appeared much less fazed. “Shall I make some tea?” she asked.
Oliver and I said yes at the same time.
“Shall I add a little whiskey?”
In unison, and more loudly this time, Oliver and I said yes once more.
A silent agreement was formed as we sipped our spiked tea that we wouldn’t speak for a while. I almost laughed when I realized that Ruby and Oliver might be the two most dangerous people to leave alone with their thoughts. Either one could assemble an entire logical puzzle before the figurative box had been opened and the pieces scattered on the tabletop.
For my part, I could only do so much with silent contemplation. I always worked best when I had a sounding board, someone like Tanner or Landon to bounce ideas off of until we came to a logical conclusion.
And at the moment, I had a lot of ideas.
I risked a question, breaking the silence. “Do you reckon Esperia and Spr
ingsong had anything to do with Grace’s disappearance?”
Oliver stared at me stone faced and swallowed hard.
Ruby nodded at him a single time. “I think that’s all the help we need of yours tonight, Oliver.”
To Oliver’s credit, he didn’t sprint from the parlor.
It was more of a scurry.
Once the door was shut behind him, Ruby sighed, gathered up his empty cup as well as her own (I was still nursing mine), and said, “It’s best if you don’t involve poor Oliver in this any further. He doesn’t have the constitution for rebellion.”
“Rebellion?” I asked.
“Oh yes. I’m not yet sure of the specifics, but to answer your previous questions, there is no doubt in my mind that Serenity and Cordelia know much more about Grace’s disappearance than they’re letting on. And if you’re going to look into it, which I know you will since you have no self-control in this arena, I suggest you conduct yourself in a manner that gives no outward indication whatsoever that you don’t believe the words coming from the mouths of the two most powerful witches in Eastwind. Or rather, the two most politically powerful witches in Eastwind. Everyone knows who the two most powerful are, and it’s not them.” She winked. “Otherwise they would just solve the dang thing themselves, wouldn’t they?”
As Ruby left up the stairs, I let her words sink in. If I didn’t know any better, I might believe she considered us the two most powerful witches in Eastwind.
But, no, surely that couldn’t be right. Or maybe …
I drew my wand and aimed it at the fireplace, where the last bits of log were burning lethargically. Focusing all the magic I could muster, I gave my wand a wave and—
Grim yelped and jumped up from his spot by the fireplace when the log exploded and shot hot embers into his thick coat.
“Sweet baby jackalope!”
His fluffy tail disappeared between his legs as he scuttled around in small circles, bending in half, trying to see what was on him.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!”
“What’d I do to you?!”
I hurried over, patting out the places where his hair was smoking, but the smell of burned animal hair was unmistakable. “It’s fine,” I said, hoping all the scorched patches were in places he couldn’t see when he craned his neck around. “All good.”
“So says you! You’re not the one that looks like the victim of a drunk barber!”
“It’ll grow back.”
He grumbled the entire way up the stairs to bed, and while he seemed to have dropped it, I knew no one could hold a grudge like Grim, and for the first time in my life, I wished I had a nightcap to sleep in.
Chapter Six
After the third long day in a row of dancing awkwardly around Tanner at work and putting on a friendly face for all the customers, I was wrecked. It was a Saturday, which meant I didn’t have a lesson scheduled. It also meant I had no idea what to do with my time. Jane was working, so I couldn’t call her up. Tanner was obviously on my no-fly list.
I had other friends, sure, but they weren’t the type I would send a random owl, asking to hang. I suppose I could, but there was little point in putting myself out there like that when I knew exactly where to find them all on a Saturday night anyway.
The thought had crossed my mind to spend the evening looking into the situation with Grace, which I hadn’t had a spare moment to consider since the mayor and high priestess had dropped by. However, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to walk straight into something that already seemed like a social and political landmine when I’d only scratched the surface.
Don’t get me wrong, my curiosity would eventually get the best of me, and if Grace’s spirit showed up at my apartment it would be on. But my Insight was telling me there was no rush. And in the meantime, work and lessons were about all I could handle when my emotional tank was running on fumes.
I entered Sheehan’s pub that night much more gracefully than the last time I’d crossed the threshold and been magically hogtied by Donovan.
I’d expected all the folks I’d like to see to be assembled in one place, and I wasn’t disappointed.
And bonus: Tanner wasn’t there. I’d worried (needlessly, it seemed) about that possibility as I’d cleaned up at the end of work. What if he was there? Did we ignore each other? Everyone would be able to tell we’d broken up then. Or worse, what if I caught him flirting with another woman? There were plenty of beautiful women in Eastwind, and while many of them were hundreds of years old, they looked to be in their thirties, which meant they were fair game, as far as I could tell.
Sure, Tanner had said he didn’t have his eye on anyone else, but nothing like a little loneliness and a lot of alcohol to change his mind on that count. Before I’d come to Eastwind, I’d learned the dangers of mixing booze and loneliness many times. It was, in fact, one of my favorite lessons to relearn … at least while the alcohol was in effect.
Not always so enjoyable afterward, though.
I would hate to see Tanner go through that for a lot of reasons, only about half of which were entirely selfish.
Slipping through the crowd, I found an empty bar stool without taking full stock of who all was there. It was a Saturday night, after all. There were a lot of them. So long as Tanner wasn’t one, I could make it work.
Kelly took my drink order and poured it right away. He was a smart guy and knew who the good tippers were, clearly. “You doing okay?” he asked.
I blinked, surprised. Without meaning to, I must have washed off my fake grin along with the smell of grease after work. “Yeah, why?”
“You’re here without your boyfriend, so either he’s working or you two are not on good terms. You came straight to the bar without saying hi to anyone, so you’re here because you think you should be, not because you want to be. And you ordered a beer right away, which means this isn’t one of your signature pit stops to interview potential murderers.” He flashed me a half grin. I’d never stopped to notice before, but Kelly wasn’t too hard on the eyes. Maybe if I played my cards right …
No, Nora. You will absolutely not rebound with your bartender! It’s simply too cliché.
I dialed it back with the bedroom eyes I was giving off.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “I’ve been busting my butt solving mysteries around this town and here you are, secretly a master of deduction.”
He shrugged as he dried off a tankard with a white-ish rag. “Bartending pays much better. Not my fault.”
“I can’t argue there,” I conceded before he hurried off to take the order of a fairy at the end of the bar.
“Hey, girl.”
I turned and found Eva right behind me. She smiled, pushing her long tangle of braids behind a shoulder.
“Oh, hey.”
“Mind if I sit?” She gestured to the empty stool on my left.
“Of course not.”
Plunking her drink down on the bar, she inspected me silently for a moment. There was something both penetrating and soothing about it, like she was only doing it because she cared to check in, rather than she was looking for something to judge. “You doing okay?”
“Of course,” I said quickly, forcing a smile.
She wasn’t fooled, and her soft expression didn’t change as she asked, “Did you and Tanner break up?”
I stared down at my drink. “Um …” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Saying it would make it seem less like a rough patch, just a phase we were going through in our otherwise solid relationship.
She leaned forward, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Nora. You don’t deserve it. And I’m sure Tanner will move through his jealousy and hurt and forgive you.”
I raised my head just enough to meet her eyes. “You know?”
She nodded. “Donovan told me … a while ago.”
I glanced back over my shoulder at Donovan where he stood chatting with Siobhan Astrid, the elf on the High Council and one of his long-time friends. She looke
d out of place in Sheehan’s. I wouldn’t say the establishment was a dump, but with her long, blonde hair, slender frame, and delicate features, she would have looked more at home, I don’t know, on a cloud? Or a sunlit mountaintop?
I turned back to Eva. “Donovan told you about …” I didn’t want to give any specifics, in case he’d downplayed it for his crush.
“The two of you in the Deadwoods and the other realm? Yes. He told me. Pretty immediately after we met, actually. I think he needed someone to confide in, and for obvious reasons, it couldn’t be his best friend.”
“Ah, right.” I looked down at the surface of my beer again. The foam was practically begging for me to chug it.
I refrained, though, because I’m an adult.
And a lightweight.
“It’s important you don’t blame yourself,” she said. “You can take responsibility for it, but don’t internalize it. You did a regrettable thing, but you’re not a bad person.”
“Thanks,” I said, suddenly missing my therapist back in Texas. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.
“I haven’t performed a connection ritual in Eastwind, but I did a few back home,” she said, “and they’re powerful stuff. Losing yourself in the emotion is understandable.”
“Back up,” I said. “You did magic in … where are you from?”
She smiled. “Tallahassee, Florida. And yes, I did a little bit of magic, but it wasn’t anywhere near as powerful there as it is here. It was more about performing the rituals and looking for results. You can find just about anything if you look for it hard enough, so I’m not sure how strong my powers were or if I was just seeing what I wanted to see. Even still, the rituals where I held hands with another and we combined our intentions were always a powerful act, even if they didn’t achieve dramatic results.”
“Did you know you were a South Wind before you came here?”
“No. I didn’t even know I was a witch before I came here. I wanted to be. I was just trying incredibly hard to be. And now, looking back, I probably felt it inside of myself the whole time. Maybe if I hadn’t listened so much to everyone around me who insisted magic wasn’t real, then I could have accessed it.” She shrugged. “There’s definitely something to be said for surrounding yourself with people who believe magic exists.”