A Witch's Path (18 page)

The woman picked up a stick and started dragging it through the dirt in front of her. "You need to listen to me because I can help you. Don't ask why you need help, I can't tell you and I'm running out of time."

I cocked an eyebrow. I wasn't inclined to listen to a woman who'd broken into my dreams.
 

"The book. You need to find the book." She continued to look at the ground, pushing dirt around with the stick.
 

My tongue was firmly clinched between my teeth. It wasn't worth asking for details about the book; I knew she wouldn't tell me.

"And there is one more thing." She didn't continue.

"What?" I asked. The fire that had been blazing moments ago was quickly dying. Behind her, the trees seemed translucent. In some spots I could see furniture. It was as if this area was fading into a room.

"I don't have much time. If you see me again, you must not give any sign that you recognize me, and you can't trust me. I won't be on your side." The woman tossed the stick into the fire.
 

"What are you talking about?" Now my dreams were as confusing as my life. I didn't know why she was telling me these things. The fire was down to softly glowing coals, and the woods behind her were fading into a room.

She stood up, her eyes normal. "The book will help you. You can trust the book, even if you can't trust me."

"How can you be here to help me if I can't trust you?" This was a bizarre dream, even for a witch.

"What I said here was the truth. You can trust these words, and the book. You cannot trust me outside of this time and place."

"Then why are you here?" The woods behind her were almost gone, bringing an opulent office into focus.
 

"Get the book. Do not hesitate to kill me." Her eyes flickered yellow and orange.

With that, she was gone.
 

The office was gone, leaving me at a campfire in the woods. The woods were more welcoming than they'd been moments ago.
 

I walked to the other side of the fire, curious about what she'd spent so much time tracing into the ground. The stick she'd used was gone, burned in the fire, but on the ground was a mush of curves, lines, and swirls. Circled by the doodles was the name Sylvia.
 

*******

The dream stuck with me through my shower. Witches were known for having strange dreams, but nothing I'd read indicated that a stranger could show up in my dreams. Most of the literature referred to dreams shared between people close to one another, often spouses. Some witches had prophetic dreams. However, the books suggested that those would be snippets of an event, enough to make you think, but not enough to give you an answer.
 

Last night had been different. It didn't follow the pattern of the other dreams. Something changed the dream I was having, morphing from Elron to the woman. The crazy woman who said I could trust what she said in the dream, and in the book, but told me to kill her.
 

Then there was the name, Sylvia.
 

The name tugged at me. I felt like I should know something about it, but I didn't. It was one more thing I couldn't solve, fix, or answer.

I growled at my reflection. Setting down the brush, I pulled my hair into a ponytail. I didn't have time for puzzles today. My magic was back, well, significantly improved from last night, and I had things to do.
 

In my living room, I sat on the floor beside the bonsai. The tracking spell didn't need any special supplies or safeguards, so I was abandoning my workroom. Taking a few deep breaths, I pushed the dream out of my mind, focusing on Amber.
 

I slowly built a picture of her in my mind, only it was far more detailed than any picture. It was her, her face, hair, wearing her favorite shirt and pants. I added her likes to the image; pizza, Mark, her job, her feathery form. Then I added her personality. Her quiet nature, and soft words, her aversion to violence and fighting.
 

When I had her, all of her, locked in my head, I focused my power and said, "Radnu." Find.

The magic formed a tight coil in front of me, as if gathering itself, before shooting into to the world. It raced away, and I could feel it, moving, searching. Then it was gone. The connection dissolved.
 

"Narzel curse it," I hissed. There was no point in trying the spell again, without a tie to her, it wouldn't work. Why was Amber so tidy? If only Tiffany had been taken I could've found her that night. Two pairs of her shoes and her blue jogging jacket were in my closet.
 

Bad, Michelle, wishing you could swap them was pointless. It was what it was, and ideally I wouldn't be in this situation because both of them would be safe. Dwelling on the failure wouldn't help.

I texted Tiffany and Mark, letting them know that the tracking spell had been a bust. Within seconds they had replied, thanking me for trying. It was time to figure out a new plan, but that would have to wait. I needed to eat and get to Ellijay.
 

Outside my door I found a small basket with little jars. Careful letters labeled them as calming, energizing, realxing, and morning. I carried them into my kitchen, touched that Elron had taken the time to make them for me.
 

Landa was serving breakfast early today because some of the guests and I wanted to get an early start. It may have been days since I had time, or inclination to have a meal in the dining room, but nothing had changed. There was still a sidebar heavy with food, and a big table.
 

I wasn't the only one up this early. A group of five guys was taking up the end of the table. The energy of the group surged and pulsed; they were shifters. Rubbing a few sleepies out of my eyes, I hurried to fill a plate. Fluffy eggs, blackberries, bacon, and an orange muffin found their way onto my plate. I balanced the fork, spoon, napkin, and plate in one hand while filling a mug of tea with the other.
 

After setting my breakfast, tea, and cutlery on the table, I slid into the chair next to a man with bright red hair. He turned around to greet me, a big smile on his face.

"Lass, I didn't expect to see you this early."
 

The hair hadn't been enough for me to recognize, him, but the voice was unmistakable. "Liam, how are you?"

Liam was a werewolf who I'd met at this table a couple of weeks ago. I quickly greeted Bobby, the sage, or spiritual leader, of the pack. Last time Liam had been here, was after he'd passed the alpha trial. The other men were less memorable. They could have been the wolves I'd met last time Liam was here, but I didn't recognize them.
 

"I'm good lass. How are you?" The Irish accent was delightful. I could listen to him talk all day.

"As well as can be expected. After this I'm off to look at bodies. Not exactly my favorite way to start the day. What are y'all up to?" I asked.

"After this, we are going for a long run. The woods in this area are lovely."

"Fall is beautiful around here." Though, it was the tail end of fall, and most of the trees had shed their leaves.
 

After a few more pleasantries, Liam resumed talking to the other wolves. I listened while I chewed on my muffin. Most of their conversation was idle chatter but one wolf said, "How are you going to take over the pack now?"

The rest of the men gave him a startled look, scooting their chairs away. Liam and Bobby studied him before Liam said, "I'm not sure what you're talking about. I'd need the council's approval before I could take over a pack. Hopefully, the run will clear the cobwebs out of your head."

The wolf ducked his head, and eyes. Once the normal flow of conversation resumed, he ate until his food was gone, and then sat there, eyes downcast, unwilling to participate. Finishing my meal, I excused myself, saying polite goodbyes.

Back in my apartment, I picked up my bags and headed to my car. I needed all my supplies if I was going to look at the home of the person who created Ty. On the drive to Ellijay, I mulled over the wolf's comment. The only pack I could think of that was primed for a change in leadership was the pack run by Adder.
 

Liam was going to be in for a nasty fight if he challenged Adder. From what I'd heard, Adder was mean and dangerous when challenged. Even if he won the pack, it wasn't that easy to win-over the pack. He could end up with a bunch of angry, resentful werewolves on his hands. Though, I'd bet the pack would take the time to celebrate Adder's death before they turned on the new leader.
 

I parked my car outside the Gilmer County Sheriff's Office and pushed the werewolves out of my head. There were bodies to examine, and if I was lucky I'd been wrong about evil being at work and I could assure my mother the suicides were nothing to worry about.
 

I wasn't known for my luck.
 

Westmoreland waved at me. I waved back, grabbed my gear, and hurried over.

"Good morning, Michelle," Patrick said.

"Morning. How are you?"

"Good. Follow me. The medical examiner has the bodies pulled out for you. The room is yours as long as you need it."
 

"Thank you. Are the bodies covered?" I didn't like working with dead people. I always ended up thinking about how they died, and how much pain they must have been in before death. It made me sad, and queasy.
 

"Yes, as you requested. I'll be there to assist you with anything you need. Take a left." The hall dead ended into another one up ahead. Patrick motioned for me to follow him around the corner.
 

"I'll find something for you to do. Bodies give me the creeps."

 
"Then I'll stay. Maybe I'll learn something. Here we are." Patrick pushed open a door to a room with two deep sinks, gowns, and face masks. "You need a lab coat and mask."

I picked through the piles, finding ones in my size. I even found a cover for my duffel. After we dressed, Patrick showed me through the door.
 

I planted my feet, lurching forward when he bumped into me. There were seven bodies on tables and gurneys. "I thought there were only the four of them?"

"I sent you the files for the four suspicious suicides. There have been ten deaths in the past month. We now consider all of them suspicious and have recovered all the bodies we could. One family wouldn't consent to an exhumation. Two of them have been cremated, and we have their ashes." He motioned to two jars sitting on a table on the other side of the room.
 

"I don't know anything about the rest of these. Do you want me to test all of them?" Last I heard I was testing the bodies of the four suicides I'd reviewed.

"I'll tell you what I can about the other cases, and I can give you the files later. How about starting with the four we talked about and working from there? The first one is over here." He pushed back the sheet to show an arm and side covered in bruises.

"Car crash?"
 

"Yes."

I set my bag on the ground and rolled over a tray stand, complete with tray. I pulled a jar full of Energy Strips out of my bag, opened it, and set it on the tray. A large glass bottle, and a jar of Sorc-O-Meters joined the Energy Strips.

Energy Strips resembled litmus paper. They were thin strips of white cloth spelled to detect residual energy on whatever they were touching. The strips had to be stored in a special container to prevent contamination. Most people didn't like to use them because they were subjective. Each one gave a slightly different reading, and it made it difficult to determine how much energy was present. In this case it didn't matter. I was looking for extreme energy shifts.

Sorc-O-Meters were spelled sticks with a piece of cloth on one end. They changed colors when they contacted energy that would be associated with a sorcerer.
 

"What size gloves do you wear?" Patrick asked.
 

"Small."
 

He set a box on the tray. I wiggled my fingers as I slid them on. They were nice and snug, with no extra material to get in my way.
 

Taking a deep breath to ready my nerves, I picked up a Sorc-O-Meter and rubbed in on the body. Patrick watched me watch the cloth. When a minute had ticked by and it was still white I sighed, and stuck it in the glass bottle.

"Was that good or bad?" He asked.

"Sorry. I should explain what I'm doing. That was a Sorc-O-Meter, it turns purple when it touches something that was tainted by sorcery."

"No sorcerer is good."

"Very good." So very good; I didn't want to see another one. I picked up an Energy Strip, and showed it to Patrick. "Have you ever used litmus paper to test pH? How acidic or basic a liquid is?"

"Sure. We did it in school."

"This will do a similar thing, but with good to evil energy. If it stays white, it's good energy. The closer to black it turns, the worse the energy." He nodded.

I moved away from where I'd rubbed the Sorc-O-Meter, and set the strip on his arm—the body. I had to think of it as a body. If I thought of it any other way, I wouldn't be able to do this.
 

The strip slowly faded to a charcoal gray.
 

"Narzel fart," I swore.
 

Patrick said a few choice words of his own.
 

"Let's test the other bodies." He covered the body while I rolled the tray to the next table. I repeated the process with the same result.
 

We uttered several more nasty words.

When the third body yielded the same results we didn't bother to curse.
 

At the seventh body my eyes crossed with rage. All these people were dead because something was a sick, greedy monster.
 

Breathing deeply, I counted to one hundred. It didn't help enough.
 

"I don't see a point in testing the ashes," I said through clenched teeth.

Patrick's shoulders sagged. "Me either. Are you done? I want to get out of here."