Under Witch Aura (Moon Shadow Series) (12 page)

Mat continued, “We were
discussing healing spells when Granny mentioned heliotrope is
sometimes used to see the future. I took it from there, and I've been
pretty happy with the results.”

“Amazing. Do you actually
hear
voices in the wind?”

“Mostly I use the visions
in the
vapors, but when you’re talking about past, present and future,
wind adds other dimensions. I guess I'd call them whispers.”
She turned away from me and muttered a quick spell. The picture on
the wall changed from an old western sheriff with his gun drawn to a
sheriff lounging against a wooden post in front of an old building.

She dialed the combination
to the safe
hidden behind the picture. After swinging the door open she
extracted a silver case and a shallow crystal bowl. There were
several other valuable pieces of crystal inside; at least one
Waterford, and two or three natural bowl-shaped geodes.

“This square crystal works
best
because it ties to earth, wind, fire and water. The heliotrope is
strongest in late February and early March. If a client requests
this kind of telling during another time of year, I'll only do it
during a thunderstorm.”

I returned my attention to
her notes,
devouring the information eagerly. “Audible oracles. This is
very close to what I need.” If I spelled it right, the
heliotrope would mimic what White Feather did when he used the wind
to gather information. “I’ll
have to use it differently than you do. It’s a direct tie to
earth for me so I won’t need the water.”

“I’d still recommend you
use it when there’s plenty of wind. During thunderstorms, it’s
like an open door. Without the portal, it isn't worth the
embarrassment in front of a client if it fails.” Mat extracted
a deep green stone from the silver case. Drops of deep red shone from
it.

When she handed it to me, I
felt a tiny
pulse, a throb not unlike that from my silver. The current warmed and
then cooled as its strength ebbed and flowed. “Do you use the
spell often?”

“No. Granny told me about
it a
couple of years ago, but it’s not an easy spell. A lot of
clients refuse to wait for a storm or the right time of year so they
go elsewhere. Plus, mixing two types of magic is dangerous which
means I charge a lot more.”

I was well aware of the
danger, but if
I mimicked a wind spell, even a partial one, I might be able to
discover what in the wind was bothering White Feather. “During
a storm do you think the magic would be noticeable to someone looking
for auras or wind spells?”

“The power is there for the
taking. Who is going to be monitoring it?”

“Hmm.” Someone or something
had sought out White Feather. Maybe he had used his wind too often
around something linked to Sarah or maybe his affinity to wind
attracted...whatever was hungry. If that ill wind noticed me, I
needed to be prepared. “Mat, you are a genius.”

She smiled coyly and
primped her hair.
“I like to think so. Here, let me tell your fortune using the
bloodstone. Without a storm, we won't get much, but you can get the
idea. There’s a bit of a trick to it.”

“No way. Foretelling is too
dangerous. I don’t need a demonstration, I need to bond it to
something I can control.”

She waved an impatient
hand. “I’ll
use myself as the focus since you don’t want to tempt fate.”
She poured water from a stoneware jug. “I won’t get much
wind, but you'll be able to learn the technique.”

There was no better teacher
than
experience, but in light of the strange things happening lately, I
preferred to be in my lab with every possible protection before
running anything to do with wind. “Mat, maybe it’s
better if we wait.”

She opened the side window.
“Honestly,
I know you’re afraid of your own future, but I’ve told
you before, a good witch doesn’t mix foretelling and fate
magic! I have never once forced a future instead of telling a
future.”

“Seriously, Mat.” I moved
near the window, feeling the fresh air from outside. My friend had an
enormous energy and aura even when she wasn’t brewing a spell. What if
something nasty noticed her bright, loud aura beckoning the
wind?

Mat ignored my concerns.
She glided to
her chair and dropped the bloodstone into her crystal bowl. “Just
watch.”

The green of the rock faded
into the
bottom of the bowl as though it were a pond; murky, but quiet. Red
specks danced across the top, forming a strong red line to each
corner of the bowl. As Mat finished the spell, the red arced and
merged with the bloody dots already in the water.

Voices suddenly teased my
ears. It was
the murmur of sand scraping rock, a throaty, almost triumphant laugh,
then nothing. Maybe it was only the breeze brushing my clothes or
the rustling of leaves along the ground, but the sounds coalesced
like a thousand voices riding an electrical current, buzzing and
clamoring.

I strained to discern
individual words,
but in a single heartbeat, the innocent breeze turned to frost. The
sudden chill made the hair on my arms and neck stand on end.

“Mat!”

She heard the change in the
voices
seconds after I did, but she was more familiar with listening to the
vibrations. “Danger? Danger of what?”

“Mat, be careful!”

My pleading distracted her.
The red
lines wavered. The voices remained just outside my hearing range,
like muted whispers in the next room.

As suddenly as they began,
the taunting
sounds stopped. I would have searched, but I didn't know how. The
wind wasn't like Mother Earth; it was more ethereal, leaving me in a
dark space fumbling for a light switch.

Mat scowled at me,
exasperated.

“Sorry,” I said shivering.
“That felt about as safe as if you were telling my fortune. Did
you see anything?”

She shook her head. “That’s
the tricky part. I have to concentrate on the wind part, make sure
it’s perfectly formed before I involve water. If I do it the
other way around, the vision tends to break up the bloodstone
connection. It ends up like a painting with colors dripping
everywhere.”

“You definitely had the
wind.”

“Did you notice the
formation?
Shoot. It would have been a really strong vision. I better run my
fortune again.”

“Sorry,” I repeated.

“Don’t worry. I don’t
need the wind to check my own fortune. I was hoping for another
romantic foretelling—that’s what I saw the last time!”
She grinned and wiggled her eyebrows.

I wasn't quite relaxed
enough to match
her grin, but I made a valiant effort.

She jumped up from the
table. “I
hate to part with this because I’ve already used it
successfully with clients, but if you need it I’ll give you a
good deal on it.”

Mat knew I preferred my
stones pure. Her shopkeeper antics helped me find a real smile. “I’m
sure you would, but I’ll hunt down Martin, which will result in
an even better deal.”

“His prices have probably
gone up
since I bought mine!” She frowned, but then laughed. “Oh,
let me know. This one has performed really well for me so it should
be fine for you.”

Matilda returned to her
safe while I
contemplated my options. Since Mat had used the stone, her aura would
enhance the magic, which was tempting. Her spells were tied to water
though, and that magic might hinder things. Using the stone would
save me time. Then again, the time-saving game had ended up costing
me in the past.

“I should be able to find
Martin
at this time of year.”

Like a good saleswoman, Mat
turned the
stone to the light and showcased it before returning it to the safe.
“If you change your mind, let me know.”

“You’ve been a huge help,”
I told her. “Stone or no. I had no idea it was possible to use
the earth to reach the wind. You deserve to be paid for such valuable
advice, don’t you think?”

“If you’d let me sell one
or two of your spells in my shop, we’d be so much more than
even. I’d owe you, in fact.”

I laughed at her wide,
wistful blue
eyes. “No, thank you! I run a totally private enterprise, even
though I love you dearly.”

She grumbled good-naturedly
all the way
across the store, but we both knew it was theatrics. When she
unlocked the door, I pushed it open. She blew me a kiss.

I nearly ran into a guy
coming in. He
was short, blond, and headed to fat, but young enough that he
probably convinced himself it was all muscle. Before I could consider
an apology, the guy with him, taller, and also in a white shirt and
sports jacket, grabbed my shirt.

“Hey!”

With brute force, he shoved
me back
inside, his large bulk very effectively blocking the exit.

Shiny black shoes and dark
chinos
whirled across my vision. I nearly capsized, but caught myself on the
clothing rack. “What in--”

“Time for enlightenment,
sister.” Widely-set eyes made the guy resemble a giant frog.
Unfortunately,
he was strong for an amphibian. He yanked me sideways and shoved a
black Bible with gold letters in my face. “This store ain’t
open for business no more.”

I dug my feet in. “Let go.”
Silver flared hot on my wrist.

“We've got a special job
for a
witch!” The blond guy shook a hand in front of Matilda’s
pale face, but instead of a Bible, he waved a grill lighter. If, like
Frog-eyes in front of me, he reeked of alcohol, he had better keep
the nasty blue flame away from his mouth.

“Mayan Sacrifices!” I
cursed.

“Get out!” Matilda
shrieked. She lifted her arm to gesture or start throwing spells.

“Mat--” There were shelves
of trouble and ignitable potions lining the walls. Some would burn
like acid on contact. Others might explode with the least little
encouragement from a flame. The two clothing racks in the center
contained spelled shirts, shawls, and hats that would be instant
kindling.

I ducked. No matter what my
friend
threw, I wanted to avoid it.

The guy twisting my arm
used my
momentum to shove me sideways. My shoulder thudded hard into the
wall, and the top of my head grazed the shelf above. The dreaded
sound of shifting bottles filled my ears.

I kicked his kneecap, hard.
He dropped
his Bible in a hurry. I shoved my fist into his stomach and grabbed a
tuft of greasy black hair from the side of his head. My other foot
should have helped me balance, but it hit the wall instead of the
ground.

A bottle from above us
bounced off his
lowered head before shattering on the terracotta tile. Matilda
shrieked, maybe because of the bright green liquid that splashed or
because the blond guy propelled her toward the back room.

In desperation, Matilda
grabbed onto
the heavy cash register at the end of the jewelry counter.

Blondie howled, “Tie'm!”

My knee in Frog’s nose
knocked
him sideways, but he wasn’t out. I shoved him into the green
pool of liquid praying it wasn't some kind of strength potion. His
feet slipped, and he cleaned most of the green off the floor with one
arm when he tried to catch himself. Unfortunately, he used the other
arm to grab my foot when I kicked at his head.

“Aaaagh!” I screamed. Mat
resold just about any potion made, but she was too far away to use
them. Me, I had my choice, but I didn't know what any of them were. I
grabbed a bottle anyway and in the process knocked two more to the
floor.

Frog-eyes yanked my foot,
dragging me
down across the mess of glass and liquid.

Smoke drifted up from one
of the broken
bottles. I held my breath. What if it was a love potion, and I was
suddenly overcome by passion? Wouldn’t that make his day, to
find a witch lusting after him?

I scrambled away, but he
refused to let
go of my ankle. Desperate, I rammed the bottle in my hand against his
forehead.

His grip barely loosened.
Dizziness
assaulted me. I sucked in a shallow breath. One or more of the
potions smelled really horrible.

“Spatunia and wort!”
Matilda screeched.

Magic tingled across my
skin right
before something popped. The scent of hay filled the air. I wrestled
my foot loose and would have kicked the guy again, but he had more
than one head now. Two bodies half sprawled in front of me; one
skeletal and one that looked like the Pillsbury dough boy. Both were
wearing the original businessman khakis so it had to be an illusion.

I raised my silver to my
nose and
scrambled away on my knees. The smoke was quite possibly more
dangerous than the man on the floor.

A large swath of petunias
nearly
stopped me. Another illusion?

The trail started from the
mass of jars
that had spilled and followed me as I tried to get away. “Moonlight
madness!” I choked, scrambling faster.

Once on my feet, I noticed
that the two
bodies of Frog-eyes had merged back into one, but petunias were
growing straight across the top of his felled body. “Flo...flowers?”

Matilda screamed. Blondie
flared his
lighter and the scarves across the doorway that separated the front
of the shop from the back ignited. Mat was pinned under them with
him waving the lighter in one hand and holding her by the throat with
the other.

Dangerous as the possible
fumes were, I
hurtled myself at Blondie. There wasn’t time for any real
speed, and I was probably half his size.

On impact, all three of us
flew through
the doorway into Mat's living room. I grappled with Blondie for the
lighter, but missed. He grunted when we hit the floor. All the air
was forced out of my lungs when I landed.

The front door must have
opened at some
point, although I never heard the bell. Someone yanked Blondie from
the pile. For half a second I thought it was Frog-eyes, but then I
recognized Matilda's friend, Jim, as he popped the guy solidly on the
chin.