The Trouble With Witches

by Kristen Painter

“C’mon.” Em pulled him along.

  She resumed her pace.

  It was hard not to stare at the interesting plants and insects in this part of the woods. He even thought he caught a glimpse of a drox, too. At least the end of its bushy green-blue tail.

  But a few feet more and a mist rose up around them, eliminating visibility in all directions.

  “Em, this isn’t good. We should go back. While we can still figure out which way back is.”

  “It’s fine, I promise.” She tugged at him to move again.

  He stayed where he was. “It’s not fine. I’ve been in this forest before. A long time ago, but not so long that I don’t remember how I almost didn’t make it out of here. I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it, I really do. But we can’t risk our lives—”

  “Deacon. Trust me.”

  Her eyes held the kind of earnest promise that made her impossible to deny. “I guess if I’m going to get lost in here, you’re the person I’d most like to get lost with.”

  She laughed. “That’s very sweet. But we’re not going to get lost. You’ll see.”

  They started moving again. He held tight to her hand, afraid if she let go, he’d lose her. But she moved with such sure steps that he felt at peace, no matter what happened.

  The mist cleared, revealing something he’d only ever heard about in his grandmother’s whispered stories.

  He stared up at the circle of trees. “The grove.”

  She stood at his side, nodding. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “More than I could have imagined. How did you know how to find it?”

  “I can’t tell you that.” She smiled at him. “Come on, there’s more.”

  They slipped between two of the thick trunks to stand in the perfect ring of trees. Overhead, the branches covered the circle except for a small opening at the center.

  Beneath which sat the thing Deacon had long ago stopped believing in.

  “The book.” The carved pedestal it sat on was beautiful. He put his hand on his head. “Is that really it?”

  “It is.” She grinned. “Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Cool? It’s—”

  Twelve warrior maidens emerged from the trees, bows drawn, arrows pointed at Deacon’s heart.

  He’d been a fool not to notice sooner that the twelve trees had faces. He raised his hands. “I mean no harm.”

  Em stepped in front of him. “Lylianna, this is my friend Deacon. I vouch for him.”

  The nymph in front of them lowered her bow a few inches. “He hasn’t forced you to bring him here?”

  Em shook her head, smiling. “No. He didn’t even know where I was taking him. He’s a good man. I promise. He’s an Evermore.”

  Lylianna dropped her bow to her side, then nodded to the others, who did the same. Deacon let out a relieved breath.

  Em gave him a quick smile over her shoulder, then moved to his side, allowing him to see the nymph leader better.

  The fact that Em had stepped in front of him, to protect him, wasn’t lost on him. No one had done anything like that on his behalf since his mother had left. From that day on, he’d always been the protector, not the protected. Em’s gesture wasn’t something he’d soon forget.

  Lylianna nodded at him. “My apologies, Evermore. We knew your grandmother. She was a good woman. A friend. Be at peace, both of you.”

  He nodded back. “Thank you.”

  Lylianna turned to Em. “Be well, Emeranth.”

  “You, too, Lylianna.”

  The nymphs disappeared back into their trees.

  Deacon shook his head, amazed by what he’d just seen. “That was crazy. And that’s not something I say lightly in this town.”

  Em smiled. “Let’s go see the book.”

  “Definitely.” He followed her to it. The book was already open. And there were lines where names had been added, but when he tried to read them, the letters scrambled and turned into little meaningless symbols. “Interesting.”

  “What is?” Em asked.

  “I can’t read any of the names already written here.”

  “I can’t either. It’s a protection spell, to safeguard those who’ve already shed their curses.”

  “I like that. A lot.” He glanced around. “This whole grove is amazing.”

  “Isn’t it?” She picked up the feather pen resting in the middle of the book, put one hand on the edge of the pedestal, then leaned in and started to write.

  He straightened. “What are you doing?”

  She ended with a flourish, then put the pen back where she’d found it. “I put Gracie’s name in the book.”

  “Are you—did you really?” He tried to read what she’d written, but the line was as blurred and undecipherable as the rest of them. “You only get one shot. One person, one name. That’s the legend anyway. Why wouldn’t you put your own name in? I thought that’s what we came here for.”

  She made a face. “Why would I put my own name in the book? I’m not cursed. Wait, do you want to put your name in?”

  He didn’t even need to think about that. “No. Not if I’m staying in this town. I wouldn’t be able to help the citizens then.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  “But you really should have put your name in.”

  She shook her head. “Again, I’m not cursed.”

  He stared at her. “Are you serious? There’s a major warrant out for your arrest, and your mother is—”

  “Okay, right, there’s all that. But that’s not a curse. Not like Gracie’s thing.” Her lower lip trembled just a tiny bit. “And saving myself was never my goal. I wanted to prove to you that I am not who that warrant says I am. That I’m not the kind of person that would take advantage of someone. Or only look out for myself. That I really do care for you and Gracie.”

  He couldn’t believe what she’d done. “I already knew that.”

  “But you had doubts. I could see it in your eyes. And who could blame you? The evidence against me is pretty convincing.” She sniffed, shaking her hair back at the same time. “I wanted to take away all those doubts.”

  “You’ve done that. You’ve done something I’ve been trying to do for years, actually. I don’t know how to repay you for this.”

  “I don’t want you to repay me. I didn’t do this to get something in return. I did this to mend the trust that was broken between us.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you. And I am going to repay you. I’m going to find a way to prove your innocence. I’m the peacekeeper. It’s my job to protect the citizens of Shadowvale. Especially the pretty, witchy ones.”

  She smiled a little. “How are you going to do that?”

  He paused to think. Amelia had said Em’s mother was a witch, too. Although not a very good one. “What’s your mother’s magical situation? How adept is she?”

  Em shrugged. “I don’t think very. I never saw her use magic in my life, but then, she purposely suppressed my gifts. Maybe because she couldn’t find a way to use them for herself.”

  He did a little more thinking. “Do you think that could have been a con, too?”

  Em squinted. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning maybe like you said in the car, she has some magical abilities. But maybe she’s more powerful than either you or Amelia could even guess. Maybe she didn’t want either of you aware of what her skill level is.”

  “Anything is possible when it comes to my mother. Why? What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking I have a valid reason to get out of Shadowvale.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Em crossed her arms and gave Deacon a hard stare from her spot on Aunt Amelia’s sitting room couch. “I’m going, too.”

  Deacon frowned and leaned against the fireplace. “That would not be a wise decision.”

  In her usual chair, Aunt Amelia smoothed the extra fabric of her peacock-colored caftan. “You cannot leave Shadowvale, Emeranth. I made that clear to you. A
nd even if you could, Deacon is right that it would be unwise. You are a wanted woman. I won’t have you taken away from us.”

  Em couldn’t argue with that, so she took a different tact. “But he doesn’t know what he’s looking for.”

  Amelia’s right brow lifted in clear amusement. “Neither do you. Your powers are far too young to be of any help. And he’ll have the help he needs in the spell I’m giving him.”

  Em sighed louder than necessary.

  Deacon was trying not to look happy and failing. She knew he didn’t want her to go for the same reasons her aunt had stated. Mainly, the chance that she’d be arrested.

  He gave her a consolatory look. “I’ll miss you. But I won’t be gone long.”

  Amelia pointed at him. “Remember that. Because if you don’t come back, this place will suffer.”

  He kept his eyes on Em. “I’m coming back. Don’t worry about that.” Then he glanced at Amelia. “When will the spell be ready?”

  She got to her feet. “Soon. Em and I are going to work on it the moment you leave, which you should do shortly, because you need to pack.”

  He stopped leaning. “Right. I guess I’ll go and let you get to it.”

  Em stood. She wanted to hug him and kiss him and say goodbye, but he’d be back before he headed to Oklahoma. And also, her aunt was watching them. Which made Em feel a little like she was sixteen.

  Amelia laughed softly. “Just kiss him already.”

  Em shot her aunt a look. “Can you read minds?”

  “No, but it’s not hard to tell what you’re thinking with the way you’re looking at him.”

  Deacon was trying not to smile again.

  Amelia walked toward the door. “I’ll be in my sanctum. Come down after you say goodbye.”

  She left, giving Em a moment alone with Deacon. “I’ll say goodbye to you when you get back.”

  He walked to her, putting himself in her personal space. “Does that mean I’m not getting kissed?”

  She grinned. “I’ll still kiss you now. If you want.”

  “I want.”

  She put her hands on his chest and smiled up at him. “Are you going to tell Gracie about her curse being lifted?”

  He shook his head. “I’d love to, but I think you should do it. You’re the reason it happened, after all.”

  “You can tell her. In fact, I think you should. Then if she wants to talk to me again…”

  “If she wants to talk to you again? You may never be rid of her after what you did.”

  She stared at one of the buttons on his flannel shirt. “I don’t want to be rid of her. I want to be friends again.”

  He cupped her face in his hands. “You will be.” Then he leaned in and kissed her gently. “You’re not going to be rid of me either.”

  She leaned into him, her temple against his cheek. “I don’t want to be.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Good.”

  “You think going to the apartment I shared with my mother is really going to solve anything?”

  “If your mother has any kind of power at all, then she used it to open those accounts in your name with your image. And if I can find evidence of that, we can clear your name.”

  “But it’s magic. And the outside world doesn’t accept magic as real. Look at me. I was a witch and didn’t even know it. Wouldn’t have believed it if Aunt Amelia hadn’t shown me the truth by using her abilities in front of me.”

  He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “I hope so.”

  “We will.” He kissed her forehead. “Now I have to go pack, and you have to help your aunt with whatever spell she’s sending off with me.”

  Em nodded. “See you in a bit, then.”

  “In a bit.”

  He left, and she went to join her aunt in her sanctum.

  A variety of items were laid out across the worktable, but at the center was a bright copper bowl.

  Aunt Amelia looked up from a spell book as Em came down the stairs. “There you are. Let’s get to work.”

  “What are we doing exactly?”

  “Building two spells for Deacon to take with him. Well, one spell and one potion.”

  “To get through the gates?”

  Amelia shook her head. “No. I’ll take care of that. The potion will allow him to temporarily see magic.”

  “You can see magic?”

  “In general, it can’t be seen. There have been cases of witches born with the ability to see it, but they claim it’s very distracting. In Deacon’s case, the potion will show him any magic in your house. Magic your mother would have created.” She paused. “Actually, it’ll show him whether or not anything has been magically tampered with as well.”

  “And the spell?”

  “It’s a removal spell. Not something ever cast by someone who isn’t a witch, to my knowledge, so it needs to be perfect.”

  Em came to stand by the table. “Removal?”

  Amelia took a glass vial off of a shelf. “Yes. It will allow him to strip the magic from anything he finds.”

  Em pondered that for a moment. “So if my mother has hidden something, or disguised it, he’ll be able to…unhide it.”

  “Essentially, yes.” Amelia scanned the table, then, seemingly pleased, looked at Em. “Are you ready to begin?”

  “Absolutely. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  Amelia produced a long silver needle. “Prick your finger. I need three drops of a young witch’s blood. Into the copper bowl, please.”

  Em grimaced, but did as she was told. For Deacon, and to prove her innocence, she’d do whatever was necessary.

  They spent the next forty-five minutes on the potion and the spell. When they were done, Em felt like she’d just been through a master class in magic. Also a little exhausted. Mentally and physically.

  “Magic is tiring,” she said to Amelia.

  Her aunt nodded. “It can be. Especially when it’s done right. But it should be. The use of magic isn’t something to take lightly. It’s work. Worth the effort, but not without some cost. Anything good is the same way.”

  Em nodded. “I agree.”

  Together, they went upstairs. Em carried the small bottle that held the potion, and Aunt Amelia carried the slip of paper that had the removal spell written on it. She’d also imbued the paper with additional magic that would cause it to incinerate itself once the spell had been spoken. It was all very Mission: Impossible, and Em was secretly thrilled that this was part of her new life.

  But that didn’t stop her from being worried about Deacon.

  Beckett met them in the library with a manila folder. “Mr. Evermore has just arrived.”

  “Thank you,” Amelia said.

  He handed her the folder, then went to stand by the door.

  Amelia went to her favorite chair near the fireplace, waving her hand at the logs within as she sat. A cheery blaze shot up.

  “Are you cold?” Em asked.

  Amelia nodded. “It’s the spell work. And my age, I’m sure.”

  “It does get cool here at night this time of year, doesn’t it?”

  “It does. Thoreau likes it, though.”

  Deacon walked in. “I’m packed and ready.”

  Amelia held out the manila folder to him. “Your ticket and rental car are all arranged.”

  He took the folder. “Thank you.”

  “Thank Beckett. He took care of it.”

  “But you paid for it.”

  She shrugged. “That’s the easy part.”

  He glanced back at Beckett. “Thank you.”

  Beckett smiled and whispered, “First class.”

  Deacon nodded. “Nice.”

  Amelia held out the paper with the spell on it next. “This will remove any magic you find. Read it aloud, then drop the paper. It’ll combust instantly and leave no trace.”

  His brows shot up. “Very Mission: Impossible.”

  Em snorted. “I had t
he same thought.”

  Amelia frowned. “This isn’t Hollywood fakery. This is real magic.”

  Deacon went serious again. “Understood.”

  She pointed to her niece. “Emeranth has the potion that will allow you to see any magic in use. Don’t drink it until you get there. It won’t last more than an hour or so.”

  Em offered him the small vial.

  He took it and held it up to the light. “Less than three ounces? I have to get it through airport security.”

  “It’ll pass,” Amelia said. “Once you’ve taken it, anything that’s been touched by magic will have a green light around it. The brighter the light, the stronger the magic that’s been applied.”

  “Got it.” He smiled at Em. “Guess I should get going.”

  Amelia checked the time on the mantel clock. “Yes, you should. The airport is an hour away, and your flight leaves in less than three.” She got to her feet. “Thank you for doing this. Be safe.”

  “I will.” He looked at Em. “Happy to do it.”

  Amelia stood. “I’ll leave you to say goodbye. Again.”

  She left, but Deacon didn’t wait for her to be completely out of the room before he pulled Em into his arms. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She nodded. “I know. But please, like Aunt Amelia said, be safe. I know you’re doing this for me, but—”

  “For us.”

  “What?”

  “I’m doing this for us. So you don’t have to live the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. So you can have peace.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind one of her ears. “I’m the peacekeeper. It’s what I do. And I want the woman I love to have peace.”

  She stared at him. She knew what he’d just said. She just couldn’t quite process it. “You just said…”

  “I know. And I do.” He kissed her on the mouth. Hard. Then he let her go. “Don’t get into any more trouble while I’m gone, okay?”

  “I won’t.”

  Then he was gone, and she was left to stare after him and replay his words in her head. He loved her. He loved her. He loved her.

  She smiled. She loved him, too.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Finding Manda and Em’s apartment wasn’t hard. He had the address from Em, and the car Amelia had rented for him had GPS. So did his phone.