Red Witch: Book Two of the Wizard Born Series (11 page)

Rollie did and said, “Whoa! Where’d you go?” Jamie lowered his hands and Rollie’s eyes grew wide. “Cool, Dude! A disappearing spell. Is that new?”

“It was one Eddan was working on. He never got it working right, but I did.”

“Is that spell hard to do?”

“It was at first. The interesting thing about it is I think Eddan got the idea for it after visiting Earth. And the memory popped in my head when I was watching a TV special on future tech. It was all about this —”

“There you go with the geeky stuff again.” Rollie shook his head.

“No, hear me out. The show was about a team of scientists trying to make a cloak of invisibility. A real one.”

“Like from the movies?”

“Yeah, only this one kinda works. When light hits this special fabric, the material funnels the light around to the other side, and it exits at the same angle that it came in…sort of. It’s not perfect.”

“What is?” Rollie smirked.

“Right. But Eddan knew about it somehow. I don’t know if he read about it in a book he got on this world or saw it on TV or —”

“He watched TV?”

“Sometimes. He was fascinated by it, since they didn’t have it back on his world. So anyway, Eddan figured out that he could make his shield do the same thing.” Jamie held out his hands and a yellow shimmer appeared before him for a moment. “He formed his shield into a cylinder and tried to get it to slide the light around the surface of it, like a skater on a curved pond of ice. The light comes in from the back, say, and slides around the shield, and exits the front. So if someone was in front of you, they’d see what was behind you, just as if you weren’t there.”

“Cool. Does the shield still work as a shield?”

“Yeah, but I can’t use my super-duper new and improved one, because I’ve got the plasma layer in it, and that scrambles the light, like this.” Jamie put his hands out and an orange shimmer appeared, then he changed it to bend the light around him before dropping it.

Rollie nodded. “It looks like a big distorted space where you are when you do that. Too obvious.”

“But a regular shield is better than no shield at all.”

“So you can be invisible and protected at the same time. Too cool.” Rollie gestured at the heaps of brown leaves that lay around them. “Now if you can just get your parents to let you use your magic on these, you’ll be in business.”

Jamie sighed. “I’d have better luck talking them into letting me shave my head and get a tattoo.”

* * *

Rita looked up from the cluttered table where she was standing as Cassandra entered the room, holding a sheet of paper in one hand.

“It’s hot in here.” Cassandra fanned herself with the paper and walked to the window air conditioner. “I’m gonna turn this on.”

“Don’t,” Rita said. “I’m getting ready to try this spell, and that’ll blow the powder around.” She had a mortar and pestle in her hands, and the wooden table was strewn with bits of dried leaves, books, and jars.

Cassandra flapped the paper at Rita. “Have you seen the bank statement? Not a pretty sight, Rita, not pretty at all.”

“We don’t keep all our money in there,” she said with only a glance up from her task.

“You’re not getting your boobs done anytime soon unless we have some serious dough stashed somewhere that we forgot about.”

Rita stopped grinding and pointed the pestle at Cassandra. “You got
yours
done. It’s my turn.”

“That was back when we had plenty of money. And I got mine done after you got the bags under your eyes done.”

“I did
not
have bags under my eyes; they were just puffy from —”

“Call it what you want.” Cassandra waved one dismissive hand. “You got your surgery, and I got mine, but we don’t have the money for any more of that right now.”

“We will if I can do this spell right and find us another witch.” She began grinding again, pushing the pestle hard into the mortar, turning the dried marigold flowers into powder. A white ceramic bowl was on the table next to her, other powders already filling the bottom.

“Is that what you did when you and Isabelle went looking for me?”

“This?” Rita held the mortar up. “I didn’t do it, Isabelle did, but I seem to remember her doing it this way. It’s been a long time, though.”

“What if the new witch isn’t so hot to join us like I was?”

“As I recall, you were happy dealing drugs with your loser boyfriend in Mobile. We had to do a little convincing to get you to come around.”

“I remember.” Cassandra plopped on the couch. “I was just a kid then. I thought I was in love.”

“Whatever happened to that guy?”

“He died, I heard. Overdosed.” Cassandra put her feet up on the coffee table. “I’d probably be dead, too, if you and Izzy hadn’t come and saved me.”

“Could be. I’m glad we did.” Rita gave her a quick smile and looked back at the spell book beside the mortar; unidentified dark flakes were scattered over its pages. She brushed them off with the back of her hand. “Who knows where I’d be if Isabelle hadn’t a’ found me?”

“Probably living in a trailer in New Orleans with nasty little rug rat grandkids running around.”

Rita gave her a hard look. “I’m not old enough to have grandkids.”

“Jackie’s same age as you, and she’s got three, and one of ’em is in high school.”

“She started young.”

Cassandra sighed. “Sure, Rita. Whatever you say.” She stood and walked to the other side of the table, across from Rita. “So how’s this work?”

“Once I get this stuff ground and mixed real good, we’re gonna spread that map of the United States down on the floor and throw this stuff over it. Wherever it clumps up on the map should be a place where a witch lives.” She nodded toward the center of the room. “Clear a space and spread the map out.”

While Cassandra pushed furniture out of the way, Rita poured the last bit of powder into the ceramic bowl. Then she stirred the contents until she was satisfied with the mixture. “Grab those four candles, too.” She gestured toward the coffee table. “They go on each corner of the map.”

Cassandra spread the map on the floor and said, “I’ll be glad when we’re done with this so we can turn the AC back on. I’m sweatin’ like a pig, and it’s nearly November already.”

“It’s always muggy down here by the lake.” Rita picked up the bowl. “You done spreading out that map?”

Cassandra nodded, pulled her lighter from her pocket and lit all four candles.

Rita, bowl in hand, turned off the overhead light and knelt at the edge of the map. “Kneel right here, Cass, and let me take a’ hold of your hand.” She set the bowl on the floor beside her. “Sure wish Isabelle was here. I know this’d work, then.” She grasped Cassandra’s outstretched hand. “Link up with me.”

Rita closed her eyes and felt Cassandra’s familiar presence mingling with hers in the ethereal space they often shared.
Seems emptier without Isabelle,
she thought. Their minds flowed together like two rivers merging at a confluence, or two buckets of paint poured into a larger pail; she felt the familiar surge and smiled, drawing a deep breath though her nose. They were now fuller, stronger, as one. She waited several quiet moments until she felt their combined magic had reached its peak, then she dipped her free hand in the bowl, grabbed a fistful of the powder, and flung it in the air over the map while she shouted, “Show me!”

She blinked and looked at the result. “Quick, Cass, turn on the light, but try not to disturb the powder.”

Cassandra stood and walked to the wall switch. “Want me to blow out the candles, too?”

“No. Might blow the powder around.”

“Might catch the house on fire again.”

“We can deal with that.” When the light flicked on, she carefully leaned over the map, pulling a pair of reading glasses from her pocket and slipping them on. “Okay, let’s see what we got.”

Cassandra joined her on the floor. “What’re we lookin’ for?”

“Any spots where the powder’s clumped up.” She pointed to one. “Like this. It’s in…” — she leaned closer — “Las Vegas, Nevada.” She nodded. “Likely place for a witch.”

“Here’s one in Oregon somewhere.” Cassandra looked closely. “Don’t see no city there.”

“Powder may be covering it. We’ll mark it with a pen and clean off the stuff later.” She pointed to a spot. “Here’s another one. Looks like it’s in North Carolina…Hendersonville, maybe.”

“This looks like one in Detroit.” Cassandra touched the spot.

“Don’t mess it up!” Rita shot her a hard look.

Cassandra brought her finger to her nose and sniffed it. Then she put it in her mouth and looked thoughtful. “Tastes like syrup. Did anybody eat pancakes with this map out?”

“Damn. Could be.” Rita looked and saw several other clumps. When she touched them, they seemed to be stuck. “Dammit all! I can’t tell which of these are real finds.”

Cassandra sat back on her bottom and crossed her arms over her knees. “Rita Honey, this ain’t working.”

Rita pressed her mouth tight before answering. “I know, Cass, I know.”

“What’re we gonna do?”

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but we need help.” She exhaled heavily. “We’re gonna have to make a trip to see Momma Sue.”

Chapter 11

Jamie took a deep breath and hesitated before knocking on Fred’s front door, trying to calm his jittery stomach. That door, one he had knocked on a thousand times, had always seemed welcoming to him, but now like he felt he was knocking on the door to the principal’s office — or the Inquisitor’s.
Fred sounded serious on the phone. Her dad must’ve found out about me and Fred making out on their living room couch yesterday
. He set his jaw and rapped his knuckles on the hard wood.
Here goes.

Larry opened the door. “Hello, Jamie. Glad you could come.” He motioned for Jamie to enter and said, “I know you have homework so we won’t keep you long.” Jamie stepped into their living room where he found Fred sitting next to her mother on the couch. Neither was smiling.

“Sit anywhere,” Larry said. Jamie sat on the front edge of a wing chair while Larry sat beside Fred.

Jamie looked into the three serious faces of the Callahans.
I feel like I’m in front of a jury. I hope he doesn’t make me and Fred stop seeing each other
.

Larry looked at Jamie and took a long breath before saying, “Do you know why I asked you to come over?”

“Are Fred and I in trouble?”

He gave his head a tight shake. “It’s not about that.” He glanced at Fred and continued. “Lisa just told me about Fred. About her being a…about her having power.”

“You mean that she’s a witch?”

Larry winced. “I don’t like that word.”

“Sorry.”

“I called you over here because I have some questions about this, and I’m hoping you’ll know the answers.”

“What can I tell you?”

“Well, for one thing, what does this mean? Her power? I know she can talk to you in dreams, but is that it?”

“I’m pretty sure if she had a good spell or potion book, she could do the magic in it. It takes a real witch to do that.”

Larry’s brow furrowed. “Wish you wouldn’t use that
W
word. It has such an ugly connotation.”

“That’s just because of the movies and fairy tales and stuff. Where Eddan’s from, witches aren’t thought of like that. A lot of them are respected members of their communities.”

“What kind of things would a witch do? Do they fly like you and blast things?”

Jamie chuckled. “No, a witch’s power manifests itself differently from wizards. I guess the best way to put it is that wizards use magic to manipulate things and witches use it to manipulate people and nature. Witches do that mostly by making potions and charms and stuff. Amulets are real popular, I think. They sell plenty of those. Selling those kinds of things is how they make their living.”

Larry rubbed his cheek for a moment. “I never thought of it like that.”

“It’s kind of a vocation, like being a farmer or a cobbler. People come to the witches for specific problems, like…love potions. Plenty of girls go to them for that. A witch can do okay if she lives in a community with lots of young people.”

Fred grinned. “Dad, I could make a little money on the side selling love potions at school. Great way to save for college.”

Larry scowled. “That’s not funny, Fred.”

Lisa slid forward to the edge of the couch. “How about the black magic thing? How do we know if Fred’s magic is good or bad?”

“There’s no such thing as black magic,” Jamie said firmly. “There’s just…power. It depends on who’s using it. A bad person may do bad things with their magic, like Renn, for example, but the magic itself is neither good nor bad. A lot of sorcerers and witches do good things with theirs. Especially the witches.” Jamie leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, ankle over knee. “If a village doesn’t have a healer, they’ll probably depend on a witch for cures to some things, like a real bad cough, or chronic headaches.”

“Do these cures work?” Lisa asked.

“Some do. Depends on the witch. Some are better at it than others. Some witches form groups to combine their power.”

“A coven?”

“I think a coven has thirteen. But any number can link up and make their magic stronger. Three’s a good number, I think.”
Like me and Fred and Rollie when we link up.

“How do they learn this stuff? There’s not a witches’ school, is there?”

Jamie laughed. “They learn from an older witch, like an apprentice blacksmith would learn from a master. Some of them learn from their mothers.”

Fred slapped Lisa on the knee and smirked. “I told you it was all your fault.”

Lisa put one hand to her mouth. “You don’t suppose….”

“No, Mrs. Callahan,” Jamie said. “I don’t think you have any power.”

“But she can be a real witch when she’s mad.” Fred nodded.

Lisa gave her a hard look. “Watch it, young lady.”

Fred put one finger to her cheek and said in a little girl’s voice, “I’ll be good, Mama.”

Larry threw one hand in the air and frowned. “See what I’m dealing with, Jamie? We’ve got a serious situation here, and Fred acts like it’s nothing. Lisa does, too, to a certain extent.”