Witch's Bell Book One (45 page)

Ebony shuddered.
“Harry, that's
awful!”

“
Ha, you need to be shocked into
paying attention, my dear. So that was the shock. Don't you go
opening the door, all conciliatory and pathetic. They aren't going
to listen to you! All their reason has been sucked up by the
Grimshore spell. They all think you are guilty as a scheming
dragon. You've been rewritten to them, remember? Nope, as long as
the Grimshore spell is taking effect, you won't be able to trust a
soul. And the only way to deal with those Grimshores is a good
blasting,” the floor trembled, as if with laughter.

“
I guess,” she turned away from
the door, and settled her gaze on the recently-stolen Wizard Gold
in front of her. “That's a good point. But, what now?”

“
Hmm, thinking, always thinking.
We've got to think ahead, before we can act ahead. So, get in your
head and start thinking!”

About what, she wondered. About
this situation, about Nate
– about the impossible, awful, intolerable,
nastiness of it all?

“
Constructive thoughts!” Harry
bellowed. “Not that poor-me crap!”

“
Harry,” Ebony said with a
little shake, “can you read my mind?”

“
No, but you are predictable.
So, here's a tip: stop being so blasted predictable, and start
being creative. Stop running from everything that's going on, or
blundering around like a drunk miner in the dark, and start digging
for diamonds, girl!”

“
I'm not blundering around,” she
said, voice barely defensive, because she patently knew that she'd
been blundering for most of her life. In fact, considering how
things were working out for her, she might as well change her name
to Blundering Bell.

“
Yes you are. And it stops here.
Ebony Bell, you are being rewritten. But you, witch, know that such
a thing cannot happen to a person of strong will. If you have
purpose, if you have direction, you cannot be diverted off course.
You have let your own story dwindle, and left the door open for
another to acquire your rights to life. So we must reverse this. We
must give you back what you should never have left to dwindle.
Seize back your purpose, girl. Seize back your story!”

“
How, Harry?” she asked
dejectedly.

“
Simple. What do you want?
Answer that, believe in it with all your heart, and you will have
your story back.”

There was that question again.
That same little question. It seemed everyone these past several
days had been asking Ebony what she wanted. But now the question
was different
– sharper, more in focus. Quite possibly because the
situation was now different. Ebony stood on the edge of a cliff, a
sword pointing into her neck, and a tremendous plunge waiting
before her. And that tended to focus things. She couldn't ignore
the question any more, she couldn't ignore anything anymore.
Because if she did, and she ignored the right things, and latched
onto the wrong things, then these would be Ebony Bell's last
actions.

What do you want?

What does that question even
mean? Does it mean what do you desire, what do you truly wish for?
Or is it an immediate thing
– what do you want now? Maybe it asks you want you
want in a couple of years, or what you long to achieve in your
life.

Or maybe it just asks you what
you want for, what you lack? What do you want for
– what do you need,
above and beyond what you desire – but what you truly can't do
without?

Ebony glanced over to the Wizard's
Gold on her counter. Used to transform the dullest of metals into
one of the most valuable.

What do you want for, she repeated to
herself. What could she truly never do without?

When you are lost in the forest, her
father used to tell her, you look for the path that will lead you
out. It wasn't a terribly useful saying, considering being lost
meant you, by definition, couldn't find the exit. But there was
something to it. When you were lost, you shouldn't wonder about,
lost for purpose as well as direction. No, you looked for the path.
You didn't spend your time and energy complaining about how lost
you were, or sitting around and picking at the dirt, all dejected
and lonely. No, you only looked for the path. That's what you
focused on. Being lost became a side note, because all your
attention was directed at the search.

So now she was lost, but this
wasn't your ordinary forest, and she wasn't looking for your
ordinary path. This was a wood where between every single tree was
a different track to be followed
– and each and every path led to the
outside.

All you had to do was pick
one.

But you didn't have to do it
capriciously. You didn't just turn on the spot and twist until you
randomly ended up facing an arbitrary direction. You took just as
much care as you could. It was your life, after all.

But what path to pick through the
forest of choice?

“
Are you done thinking yet?”
Harry interrupted impatiently. “Because there's no point in
thinking unless it has quality.”

“
Quality?” she kept staring down
at the Gold. “Surely all thought has the same quality –
insubstantial cloudy stuff between your right and left
ears.”

“
Same quality, are you mad? You
can have deep thoughts, long thoughts, inclusive thoughts,
exclusive thoughts, peripheral thoughts, happy thoughts, and grave
thoughts. Why, you have a world of thoughts. But what you really
want are the right thoughts.”

“
So now I have to figure out
what I really want, and I have to have only the right thoughts,”
she sighed so deeply it felt as if she was trying to rid herself of
a lifetime of tension – trying, but failing, that was. “This is all
a lot to do before the Law bounces down the door and drags me off
to the stake.”

“
Oh, stop being despondent, it's
frankly irritating. Really, girl, hasn't anyone ever taught you how
to want, let alone think? You're a witch! Surely these are at the
very base of your skill and discipline.”

Ebony let out a tiny little
laugh.
“No
one ever teaches you how to think, Harry. This isn't the ‘20s. We
don't try to formalize things like that, and it's just nonsense to
believe you can.”

“
Nonsense! How ripe! Why little
Ebony, I was taught from birth to death how to think and
want!”

“
Oh yes,” Ebony kept staring
down at the Gold. “And who taught you? Did you apply for a course
at the local college? Or did you see an advert in the paper and
send away for a book of lessons?” she rolled her eyes.

“
No, you little trotter, the
world taught me. Really, getting to your age and having no idea how
to learn things! What exactly have you been doing with your
life?”

Ebony huffed. She was starting to get
annoyed. It was rising in her like a hot steam off a boiling pool.
It was making her skin hot and itchy and her cheeks red and raw.
She was starting to get sick of this stupid question. Why did
people keep asking it! As if they knew the answers themselves! She
felt like they were all lording it over her, as if the world, all
her friends, and all her family had the answers to the test Ebony
had forgotten to study for.

“
I don't know, Harry,” she
snapped. “Maybe you should just hurry up and tell me!”

“
Tell you!” his voice trembled
with anger. “What impertinence!”

“
Harry!” her voice arced up. “I
can't take much more of this! There's a hoard of police and wizards
trying to break down my door! I've lost my job, my magic, and my
life! The Grimshores are rewriting my life so they can maintain
their hold on Vale! I can't just stand around and think like this,
I have to—”

“
Ah, there you go, still can't
think. Still don't know what you want—”

“
I want you to shut up!” she
shot back, voice exploding in a sudden rush. “I want this situation
to end – no,” she said suddenly, “I want to end this situation. I
want my magic back. I want my friends back. I want to lift this
curse, arrest the Grimshores, and reverse any damage they've done.
I want ... I want ... I want Nate. I don't want him to be evil, I
want it all to be a mistake, I want—”

“
You want him?!” Harry's voice
was incredulous. “Yuck! I knew he was trouble the first time I laid
eyes on him. He's so annoying! So righteous and bland. He also has
a secret, Ebony; I can smell it on him. Something big. I just knew
I had to keep you two apart—”

“
So that's why you kept on
trying to kill him?” Ebony crossed her arms.

“
Ha, that and I just liked to
see his alarmed little eyes. Reminds me of a gorilla, that one – a
slow, dumb gorilla.”

“
He's not dumb. He's ...
different. But it doesn't matter,” Ebony took a startling, sudden
breath. “Because I want him,” she reached down and picked up the
pen, twisting it around in her hand. “I want to be me, Harry. I
want to be Ebony Bell. I want to live the life I want every single
day. I want to potter in my shop, and return home to a hot dinner,
a hot detective, and hot—”

“
Don't you finish that
sentence,” he cut in.

“
Showers,” she supplied with a
shake of her head. “I wouldn't really change much,” she brushed her
hand along the counter top. “Just the little details.”

“
Oh no, you'd be changing
everything – because you'd want it now. Very different that.
Knowing you want what you have stops you from looking for what you
don't want, and ignoring your blessings for the pursuit of curses.
Any wizard knows that. Except for those hairy little louts outside.
I bet all they know is how to cuddle cushions and plait their
beards.”

Ebony chuckled softly.
“Right.” She
stopped herself with a stage blink. Gosh, she was turning into Nate
– throwing “rights” out left, right, and center.

But it was odd, very odd. Ebony felt
different. She couldn't put her finger on it, couldn't point to a
specific sensation in her stomach, or a tickle along the back of
her shoulders. It was just different somehow. It was like her
center of gravity had shifted ever so slightly, her feet planted
just that more solidly on the ground.

All she'd said was that she wanted
roughly what she already had, but with certain embellishments in
the Romance Department. That, and the right to continue living the
life that she wanted even when those wants changed. If she woke up
tomorrow and wanted to explore the Amazon rainforest, she wanted to
be able to follow that want just as much.

“
Ha!” Ebony suddenly let out an
explosive laugh. It was just as that little old dear had said the
other night, when she'd come in proselytizing and handing out
pamphlets. The secret wasn't in the thing you wanted; it was in the
wanting itself.

The right to want, the freedom
to will
–
whatever you wanted to call it. That was what it was all about. It
didn't really matter what you wanted – whether it was a truck full
of chocolate, or a hot air balloon made out of pants – the magic
was in the will directed, never the object intended.

Things started to click into place
like a puzzle spontaneously solving itself.

“
Ohh,” Harry gave the blinds a
bit of a flutter, “now we're talking magic. I can feel it in you,
Ebony, feel it crackling away in your bones like a fire in dry
brush.”

Ebony looked down at her hands,
then at her bracelets.
“What are you talking about, Harry? I don't have
any magic any more, they took it away, remember?”

“
Ha!” a book exploded open with
a rush. “Take magic away? I'd like to see them try. They can't take
away your magic, Ebony! They can only contain it. No one can reach
into your soul and take what's rightfully yours. Magic isn't some
fancy ring, a catchphrase, or a special element zapping around in
your blood. It can't be removed and taken somewhere else. It's a
part you, Ebony, as much a part of you as your name, your identity,
and your whole.”

Now she took the time to actually
think, Ebony realized, with a pained sigh, that Harry was right.
Magic just wasn't something you could steal from someone else,
stash in your sack, and run away with. If it's there, it just means
that the person can understand and interact with the world
differently. It doesn't mean they have some kind of extra juice
circulating in their veins.

“
They're just like dams, Ebony,”
Harry let a soft breeze shoot through the room. “Those bracelets
hold back the tide of your magic, like walls holding back a
crowd.”

She kept staring at her hands. So, all
she needed was to break the wall. But how? These were given to her
by the Coven, for crying out loud, and they had more power combined
than Ebony could ever dream of.

“
Oh, it's not going to be easy,
but you'll figure it out,” the closed-sign over the door moved as
if it was nodding. “I know you will.”

Ebony bit into her lip. Things were
starting to come together, in the oddest and most curious of ways.
Still, things were swelling. It was like watching the clouds gather
before a storm. Everything Ebony needed, or seemed to be lacking,
was slowly drawing together in the same place. She now knew what
she wanted, and the vague beginnings of a plan were poking their
way through the darkness.