Witch for Hire (11 page)

She blinked. "No, it isn't. His was . . . newer."
 

I snorted. "Last time he was here it was newer, but that's been years. Now, it's even older. I need to talk to him. If he isn't here, can I have his number?"

"No," Mom paused, eyes darting back and forth, "he's dead. I'm sorry, I thought you knew, but he died six months ago."
 

"Remarkable." It was silly to think that he had died, and Mom hadn't told me. He'd been the picture of health last time I'd seen him, and mom was being weird. "So, if that's not his car, and he's not here, who is here?"

Her face fell and her eyes darted to the kitchen and back. "Let's go get some tea."
 

"Alright." This wasn't normal behavior for Mom.

She paused at the counter, and tilted her head like she was talking to someone telepathically. I heard footsteps in the hall before she turned to address me. "Michelle, I'd like you to meet—"

"Me, Greg Nelson." Greg looked to be the same age as my mother, which was more of a phase than an age. For a larger portion of their adult life witches had an ageless quality. They didn't look like a kid anymore, but they didn't look old either. He was a tall warlock, all legs and arms, with a bit of gray edging his black hair.
 

Confused by Mom's worried look, I carefully shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Nelson. I'm Michelle Oaks, but I think you know that."
 

Mom set a tray on the table and handed a mug and tea infuser to me. I poured the hot water over the tea and added a bit of sugar before I sat. This was all so strange. "How long have you known my mother?"

"A while."

"When did you meet?"

"Some time ago."

"But when was that some time ago?'

The hint of a smile left his face. "It doesn't matter."

Taking the hint, I turned to mom. "Do you want to help me teach some classes? I need one person that I can guarantee will be there, and you know how my days are."

"What kind of classes?" She was darting glances at Greg, but trying to appear serene.
 

"I want to start a class for hedge-practitioners to go over the basics and from there build to harder classes. The police don't have a system for training their practitioners, and I've been thinking about giving some classes to help them."
 

"I don't know. It could be fun. It's been a long time since I taught anyone outside of work." Mom was a medical practitioner at the local hospital.
 

"I was hoping you could put me in touch with some of my old teachers. I have a tricky bit of magic that I'm working on and I'd like some advice. Do you think you could help me, or are the rest of them dead too?"

"Perhaps, I might be of use," Greg interjected. "I am more skilled at advanced magic than your mother, and I would be more than willing to try." He looked entirely too eager.
 

"It's complicated," I answered.
 

"I'm sure it is. Why don't you tell me and I'll try to help." I was quiet long enough for him to add, "I mean you and your mother no harm."

I studied him before answering. "Did you hear about the escaped trolls?"
 

"Yes, I think most of the country knows by now."

"Thanks a lot," I muttered. "I'm trying to help the police capture them, but I don't have anything that belonged to those particular trolls. I managed to work up a spell that would, for the most part, track trolls."

"How'd you do the spell? It makes a difference for these things, you know."

My eyes narrowed. He sounded just like Mr. Richards. "I took a map, and using soil, told it not to look for trolls inside the boundaries of that ground. Then, taking a mix of troll's blood, I told it to look for something like that, but not exactly that blood. The next day I told it not to look for human type blood because it had been picking up on non-trolls. I'm not sure what exactly it's showing now, but I've got about double the indicators that I should." Carefully sipping my tea I discovered it was cool enough to drink.
 

"Why can't you get something that belonged to each troll? That would be easier." I was glad he didn't sound condescending, just curious.
 

"For some reason they can't figure out which trolls escaped, never mind provide me with a belonging." If I sounded frustrated, it's because I was.

"Who runs the preserve?"
 

"I don't know, but they seem rather incompetent." I sighed. "Can you help me with the spell?"

"You did the spell perfectly, from the sound of it." Again, he sounded like Mr. Richards.

"Then why did fifteen people walk all over the area that the map showed a troll in and find every sign of trolls, but no trolls?"

"Caves?"

"I don't think there are a lot of caves in that area, but I could be wrong."

"What does the habitat that they live in look like?"
 

I was confused. It was never this hard to get Mom on the phone, and she was jumpy. I pushed those feelings away, and answered the question. "A lot of big rocks that were crafted to look like caves. The caves are mostly in a field and have cameras embedded in them."

"I think they found a way to hide underground, or moved just before the searchers went out looking for them." He started to munch on a scone my mother had set on the table.
 

"Great, but do you have anything helpful to add?" I didn't have any other good ideas.
 

"Why can't they tell you which trolls are missing?

I swallowed some tea, wishing it would calm me down. "Darn good question. I don't have an answer."
 

"Have you tried a spell, or a lodestone, to help guide the police once they're in the same area as the trolls?" Greg asked.

"I've been thinking about a lodestone. If you think it'll help, I'll make one."

"It can't hurt."

"Did that help, dear?" Mom had been uncharacteristically quiet through the exchange.
 

"Yes, it did." Knowing what she expected, I continued with, "Thank you Mr. Nelson."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help more. What was this about classes you wanted to hold for hedge-practitioners?"

"I'd never really thought about it, but when I talked to them they told me they were trained by family members. They don't know how to make the best use of their powers. I want to set up a series of three classes, to start with, to review basics and build their base of knowledge."

"Do you know much about how their power works?"
 

"Not as much as I'd like. Why?" Perhaps he'd be more useful than he was with my troll problem.

"I know a little about the subject. More importantly, I know several books that are very helpful. I'll write down the titles for you."

"Thanks." Why wasn't mom talking? What was really going on here? "Mom, I still need a second teacher for the class. I can't be sure that I'll always be there, and I can't make it work if I'm rescheduling all the time."

"I'll think about it. Why don't I call you tomorrow?" She flashed a look at Greg.

"I drove all the way up here because I called you, over a twelve hour span, and you didn't answer the phone. I'd like an explanation for that. I'd like to know why you keep acting funny. I'd like to know what he's doing here, with Mr. Richards' car." Knowing she would yell at me, I did something unbelievably rude. I grabbed Greg's hand and pulsed magic across his skin before he had a chance to pull away. Releasing him I leaned back in my chair. "And I'd really love to know why he has the same aura as the dearly departed Mr. Richards. Anything you want to share?"
 

Greg studied my mother. "We agreed years ago, mostly because you felt this would be better, that this was how things should be. We've past the point where your reasons are valid. You know my feelings on this, Nancy."

She glared at him, the corners of her mouth pinching. "My reasons are just as valid today, if not more so. I fail to see why things should change."
 

They were hiding something from me, and had been for a long time by the sound of it. With one suspicion after another rolling through my mind, I listened to the rest of their disagreement.
 

"Let the past stay in the past. The arrangement was never intended to be permanent. Fear is clouding your judgment, like it did years ago." He looked dead set on what he was saying.

"Fine. Do what you want. Ruin everything we've done." She crossed her arms and looked at the ceiling.
 

"We've done, Nancy?" he demanded. "What we? You did everything. I was left with scraps and lies. You left me with nearly nothing, and I made the best of it. I'm not letting you do that to me again. If you don't want to be a part of this, then just walk outside while I get the first real chance I've ever had to—"

"Children," I yelled, having heard enough. "Can you excuse me or explain? This is fascinating, but would be more fun if I knew what you were fighting about." They both turned to look at me, as if surprised to see me sitting here. "Now, I don't know what this is about, but I don't think acting like children is the way to solve it. Frankly, I want answers."
 

Greg sighed. "Probably not." He turned to look at my mom, "Nancy, I don't think you can stop me."

"Fine, but this isn't going to end well."
 

"Your complaint is noted." He settled back in his chair, visibly attempting to calm himself with breathing exercises. "Michelle, did you ever wonder how you and your mother came to be here, outside of a clan?"

I squirmed, not happy with the direction this was taking. "Sure, but I had a good life and mom didn't seem unhappy most of the time, so I didn't worry about it much."

"Perhaps not," he looked thoughtful. "There are many things I would like to explain, but let me start with the simplest. I am Mr. Richards, or I pretended to be a man by that name. I am a wizard of considerable power, and most importantly I am your father." He didn't pause long for me to get used to the idea. "I'm most of the reason you ended up here. Your mother, as you know, is not the most powerful witch."
 

He pulled her hand into his lap, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. Her posture softened as she relaxed against him. "Her clan was dissatisfied with her power and career. When she started to behave in ways her mother, and clan, didn't approve of, they threatened to exile her. Her clan thought she was in a relationship with a human. They found out she was pregnant and exiled her.

"By the time she was exiled, we were worried about the child, you. We didn't think it was safe for her to go back to her clan, or come to mine. Witches rarely bother exiles, but a witch who's been adopted by another clan is a different story. Both of you would be safer here in Ellijay. I couldn't come live with you, for various reasons. By the time you were born, your mother had decided that it would be better if I wasn't around. Reluctantly, I agreed, and we kept our relationship from you."

"She did the best she could to teach you, but when it became apparent that you would surpass her, she reached out to a few trusted friends. Once Mrs. Rinds was teaching you, we knew we couldn't keep going to outside sources, even our good friends were held accountable by their clans. At that point, we were in too deep to change the story. I was the only one who could teach you, so I became Mr. Richards. After you moved out, your mother and I started arguing about the best way to proceed. This was never meant to be a permanent solution," his voice trailed off.
 

I listened to every word without saying a thing. I'd always known I had a father, even if I didn't know him. I'd also known my upbringing was unconventional for a witch. It hadn't taken me too long to realize there was something strange about Mr. Richards, but he'd threatened to leave if I ever investigated. As my emotions settled, I became bitterly angry.
 

"Hi, Dad. It's nice to meet you. I wish I could have met you, oh, twenty-five years ago. I wish on every tree in the forest I could understand the reasons for all of this, but I don't think you're going to tell me. Dad, are you still worried about me knowing who you are? Mom, did you ever think I might like a dad?" They didn't say anything. "Those were questions, damn it. You owe me that much."

Greg, or dad, sighed gustily. "Nancy, don't you dare scold her for this. I imagine I'd feel about the same." He looked back to me. "Honestly, yes. Most of the reasons we were afraid still apply, but even our long lives are too short to live in lies. I want to know my daughter. I can protect you, not that you need much help these days. Your mother and I both questioned my involvement in your life, and I missed you every day. She knew it would be hard on you, but trust me when I say we did the best we could. In hindsight, I think we made the right choices. Things have worked out so far, but we don't know what would have happened if we'd done things differently."

"I want to know the rest." Seriously, you'd think people were out to kill all of us.
 

"No." Mom finally spoke up. "Michelle, we love you too much to tell more. We need to take things slow, make new plans slowly. If that goes well your father and I will consider it, but not right now."

"I'm old enough to be out on my own, and you're still going to pat me on the head and tell me not to worry?" I didn't get it. I didn't get any of it. They lied for years and now, because some of the truth was out, I was supposed to be alright with everything.

"Michelle, one of the benefits of your upbringing was the separation from the clans. It's also the greatest weakness. I know you're mad at me, but trust me, we need to be careful." Tears were welling up in Mom's eyes.

"Fine. I need time to think about this. Mom, I also need to know if you'll help me teach those classes. Dad, it was great to meet you." I grabbed my purse and started out of the house.

"Michelle, wait." Greg was following me. "Here, take the book names." He pressed the list into my hand. "I don't think Nancy would be the best fit for those classes, but I'd like to help. I'd also like a chance to get to know you as my daughter."