Witch's Bell Book One (6 page)

Upstairs was a slightly different
world, though. While downstairs resembled a book-cyclone, upstairs
was quite neat. It was a mezzanine level, with a large wooden
railing from which one could peer down at the store below.
Beautiful old bookcases were lined, neat and exact, along each of
the three walls. Each was packed, though gently enough, with
decidedly old-looking books. They were all sun-damaged and pale,
but the blue, green, red, and black spines still twinkled their
color. And if you made it close enough, you could still make out
the original gold lettering imprinted on their spines.

Upstairs wasn't usually open to
Ebony's customers, a little rusty chain being hung over the
beginning of the staircase below with the word
“private” painted in chipped
red-paint on a little wooden board. Upstairs was her, ah, other
collection. It was a comprehensive set of books on magic, alchemy,
witchcraft, wizardry, spells, demons, and anything else you could
think of. But unlike the fluff you might buy in an ordinary
bookstore, these books were the genuine article.

The books on the top level formed the
backbone of Harry's original collection. Harry Elbert Horseshoe had
been a wizard of some repute during the early twentieth century.
He'd traveled the world collecting any magical book he could get
his hands on, eventually bringing his whole collection back to his
hometown of Vale. Though Ebony didn't really know too much about
the old-timer, she did know he'd guarded his collection like a
mother hen guards her chicks.

Ebony jumped off the final step,
bangles jangling on her wrists. She fully intended to trot up to
the counter, grab a strawberry lollipop, and continue sorting out
the mess while her stereo system blared. But to her surprise, there
was an actual real customer standing at the counter.

“
Oh,” she said quickly, “she
jammed her thumb onto the pause button on the stereo-remote in her
pocket, “didn't see you there, pet.”

She walked up to the counter,
teeth pressing into her lips in a cheeky smile.
“I really should invest in a
bell I can hear over my music – oh,” she said suddenly, as she
rounded the back of the counter, “it's you.”

Detective Nathan Wall smiled
back, though you couldn't exactly call it a smile. It was more a
bare twitch of acknowledgment.
“I don't think there is a bell on Earth
that could be heard over that din,” his voice was dripping with
sarcasm. One arm rested lightly on the counter, the other pressed
two books into his chest.

“
You,” she cocked an eyebrow,
pursed her lips, and blinked quickly, “are wearing a different
suit.”

Nate looked down, expression
bland.
“Great detective skills, I can see why the police
department consults you now.”

Ebony carefully picked a red
lollipop from the bowl by her side, and gestured towards Nate with
it, as if it were some kind of wand.
“You are sarcastic, rookie, and that's all
that can be said about your personality.” She unwrapped the
lollipop, letting the wrapper fall to the counter.

“
Hmm, and you dance like a
kitten on speed, which I think kind of sums you up too.”

For a brief second Ebony was
horrified at the realization this buffoon had seen her dancing
upstairs. The little blighter had obviously been here for some
time, and hadn't had the manners to announce himself. But Ebony
quickly shooed away the embarrassment, choosing to smile
mysteriously instead.
“First you come in here and insult my music, and
now my dancing. Tell me Detective Nate, is that how we make
friends?”

“
Who said I was trying to make
friends? What I'm really here to do,” he placed the two books he
was carrying neatly onto the counter, “is return these
books.”

“
Hmm, I see,” Ebony pulled them
away from him, making a show of checking them over completely for
any sign of damage or misuse, “and did you actually manage to read
them?”

Nate flattened his tie.
“You'd be
surprised, but literacy rates amongst homicide detectives are
actually on the rise.”

Ebony practically cooed.
“Oooh, you can talk
and you can read. Next you'll be finding manners, then you'll be a
real man,” Ebony placed the books behind the counter with a
satisfied smile.

Nate's grin stiffened.
“I think you might
need to look up the definition of “man” in the dictionary, you
might find it illuminating.”

Ebony ground her front teeth together.
Now, now, wasn't this detective sharp. She had to admit, she much
preferred this man when he was frightened. He seemed to be a bit
too much work to handle otherwise.

“
Hold on, you wouldn't actually
have a dictionary around here, would you? You know an actual useful
book?”

Ebony straightened up a little,
pulling the lollipop from her mouth with a pop.
“It depends if you like paper
weights, Detective Nate. Are you telling me you didn't find those
two books I lent you useful? Would you rather learn all about the
witches, the Pact, the Portal, demons, and such – by being thrown
into a graveyard at night during the witching hour with nothing but
your blazing wit to save you? Because if you'd like, I can take you
down to the Portal right now and introduce you to a mind-sucking
demon-fly. But only if you'd like.”

Detective Nate's expression
was, as usual, quite unreadable.
“The books were fine,” he changed the
track of the conversation instantly, reverting to his usual
officious tone. “In fact, I'd be interested in more, if you have
any.”

Ebony made a loop in the air
with her lollipop.
“Are you asking if I have any more books? Look around,
rookie; I have a whole store full.”

Detective Nate was obviously
done playing.
“Specifically, I was wondering if you had anything
pertaining to that Portal of yours. Especially anything relating to
the Portal Prophecies.”

Ebony blinked, a little
shocked.
“You actually read those books, didn't you? And it's not my
Portal,” she corrected with a little laugh. “You think I'd be
working in a second-hand bookstore if I had my own tamed space-time
anomaly?”

“
Correct me if I'm wrong,” Nate
appeared to ignore her attempts at humor, “but much of the
relationship between the police and the Coven is due to the Portal,
right?”

“
I guess you could say that,”
Ebony said carefully, caught off-guard by the Detective's
insightful questions. “The Portal is incredibly powerful; it allows
things to happen in Vale that couldn't happen elsewhere. As such,
it can be dangerous, unless properly managed.” She suddenly sighed,
not really knowing where to begin. There was just so much about
magic and Vale that the Detective didn't know, let alone the
Portal. And just how was she supposed to explain it all to a man
that looked dumber than a cardboard cut-out?

Nate just stared at her evenly,
obviously waiting for his answer.

“
Okay, here's the low-down. Like
I said before, the Portal is usually closed. Actually, it's always
closed. It's been a really long time since anything tangible has
come thought it. Just energy and the occasional thermic
cloud—”

“
Hold on, are you saying that
nothing can come through the Portal? Nothing but energy, that
is?”

Ebony rolled her eyes, not
liking to be interrupted, especially by someone who seemed so darn
keen.
“No. I
mean, technically no. Things from our side,” she patted her chest,
“can occasionally go through the Portal. But nothing comes through
to this side. Nothing but energy—”

“
But what about the Prophecies?
You said that nothing ever comes through the Portal, but if that's
the case, then why do most of your books refer to it as a door?
Doors are usually two-way. And the Prophecies specifically mention
creatures coming through the Portal, so why dismiss it?” As Nate
spoke, his voice was easy but precise. Ebony realized for the first
time that he actually sounded like a detective. His questions were
exact, to the point, and probing. Worse than that, he sounded in
his element, in control.

“
Okay, whatever. Yeah, the
Portal Prophecies mention that creatures from the Other Side can
occasionally hitch a ride into our world. But you have to
understand, Detective, that these Prophecies pertained to a time
long past. A time when people knew more about magic, but less about
risk control. A time when some dumb-diddly of a wizard thought it
would be a neat idea to try and communicate with inter-dimensional
beings, regardless of the consequences.” She took a breath. “Look,
magic is very regulated these days. It needs to be. You think it's
especially easy keeping something like magic secret in this
technological age? Of course it isn't. So, for the benefit of
magical creatures, and for the benefit of humanity as a whole,
magic is kept under control. Maybe in the past it would be possible
to open up the Portal and invite some nice old dimensional-alien
around for tea, but it just couldn't happen anymore.”

Nate hardly seemed impressed by
her reassurance. In fact, his face was so set that Ebony fancied
not even a barrel of diamonds would impress the man.
“The reason I
insist,” he said clearly, obviously wanting Ebony to pay attention,
even if he thought she didn't seem capable of understanding him,
“is that the Portal seems to be at the center of the relationship
between the witches and the police. It also seems important to the
variety of crime you experience in Vale. That, Ebony makes it
important to me.”

Ebony stopped herself from
rolling her eyes, barely.
“There isn't much to tell, Detective, honestly.
The Portal just is. Trust me, nothing is going to come out of it
any time soon. That's really not what you have to worry about here.
You want to understand crime in Vale? Then your major culprits are
idiot kids and the Internet, accidents, petty-theft of blessings,
the occasional neighborhood hexing – nothing of inter-dimensional
importance, not by a long-shot.”

Nate hardly seemed pacified,
but he did nod his head.
“So, do you have any books for me, or what?” he
repeated his original request with the same steady,
unnervingly-precise tone.

Ebony liked to look like she took
everything in her stride, it was part of her blazing personality,
she fancied. She was now realizing, however, that she did not like
it when other people did the same. This man was coming across as
arrogant in the extreme, too eager to control, and too damn
capable. He'd just found out magic was real, and now he was having
a serious argument with her about the possibility of directional
material-transport through a magical inter-dimensional space rift.
How dare he.

The tick of Harry's old clock filtered
through the room. It felt like the heartbeat of the place, the
slight background reminder that things were never as they seemed.
It also reminded Ebony that she could hardly just stand here and
fume at the man. He was a detective, she reminded herself, and
there was the Pact to think about. Part of her job as consultant
witch for the police force was to keep their officers up-to-speed.
She was obliged, Ebony pressed her teeth together, but she didn't
have to smile about it.

Damn, sometimes she hated the
Pact.

“
Fine. I have a book relating to
Portal dynamics,” she said quietly. “I'll just go find it.” She
walked around the counter, trying to keep her back straight but
hips swaying.

She bit her lip with annoyance when
she realized Detective Nate was following her.

“
So what is a Portal? Are there
Portals elsewhere on the planet? If it produces energy, then why
haven't scientists picked up on it? If it's inter-dimensional, then
doesn't there need to be a balanced flow of energy into and out of
the Portal, in order to maintain the thermal equilibrium of both
systems?”

Ebony felt like she was being
followed around by a pesky child who had more questions than
friends.
“Thermal equilibrium? What kind of question is
that?”

“
It's a smart question. You
should try asking them sometime. Then, in the event that you meet
someone smart, you might not sound so dumb.”

One of Ebony's eyebrows rose
like a puff of smoke.
“Really. Very nice.”

“
Seriously though, there has to
be more to this Portal, and I'd like to know it,” his tone and his
expression both returned to normal. He seemed capable of switching
between sarcasm and efficiency in the blink of an eye.

“
Look,” she put her hands on her
hips, and pressed her lips into a pout. “Do I look like a walking
dictionary? You seem capable of reading, so why don't you do
that?”

“
I'd rather it comes directly
from the witch's mouth, so to speak,” he flattened his tie again,
something he seemed to do at every opportunity.

Ebony sucked in her lips and
turned away. Now wasn't that a saying.
“Listen,” she said eventually,
picking her way past a banana-lounge drowned under books,
“obviously I can't tell you everything about magic and the Portal,
because obviously, you simply wouldn't understand.”