The War on Witches (7 page)

Prue slammed the book she was holding down on the table. “We've been at this for two hours and nothing! This was a mistake.”

“No!” Piper said. “We're making progress. Look at all these books we've counted out.” The pile she'd been going through was barely half her size now and there were still a dozen stacks around her. Prue almost had to laugh at Piper's forced positivity. She was usually the realist, not the optimist. That was Phoebe.

“We're wasting time,” Prue said. “I've always been better out in the field. I'm not the research-librarian type.”

Cole closed the book he'd been reading. “I agree with Prue. I don't think the answer to this one is going to be found in a book. At least, not these books.”

“What are you suggesting?” Prue asked.

Cole pushed back his chair and got up. “If there
is
a book out there with spells that can debilitate witches, that can't be something that just popped up on the scene. Someone must have heard of it before this. That kind of power would be sought after throughout the demon community.”

“No, Cole,” Prue said. She knew exactly where this was going. Now it was time for her to share a knowing look with Piper.

“All I have to do is—”

Piper jumped in. “Prue's right, Cole. The Elders left you here to help Prue so that you can finally prove you're worthy of moving on . . . of resting in peace. How are you going to do that if you reconnect with your old demon contacts?”

“What good am I to anyone if I don't use the skills I possess?” Cole asked. “Evil isn't a drug. I'm not an addict.”

“That's not even close to true and you know it,” Prue said. “Evil
is
a drug. You might not have a demon inside of you any longer, but you can't say that you haven't been infected by evil without Belthazor around. I'm not letting you near the temptation.”

“Then we have three of our best resources trapped here going nowhere,” Cole pointed out. “How is that working for anyone?”

Silence echoed through the cavernous room.

“Cole's right,” Piper finally said.

Prue was thunderstruck. “Piper!”

“Not about his demon contacts,” she quickly added. “Sorry, Cole, it's too big a risk. But we are wasting our resources here. We keep acting like we're the same people as before. That this can work like it used to. Why are we looking in books when Prue can access a magic that is unlike anything we've ever witnessed? Why don't we figure out what this Nexus can really do?”

“What do you have in mind?” Prue asked.

“You tell me,” Piper said. “You're the one that gets mysterious messages on her arm. What's it telling you now?”

All three of them looked down at Prue's skin. The pentagram that had formed there earlier was gone. In its place was a collection of symbols that meant nothing to any of them. More often than not, that's what she faced every day: random meaninglessness that wouldn't wash off no matter how hard she scrubbed.

“We're not off to a good start here,” Prue said.

“You know what you need?” Piper asked. “An attic.”

“I got rid of the attic just before you came back,” Prue reminded her.

“Not a literal attic,” Piper said. “A figurative one. Someplace here that is specifically designed for magic. We've got the attic back home and I've got my kitchen. What you need is separate space to commune with the Nexus. Something like a supernatural home office.”

“This entire place communes with the Nexus,” Prue reminded her. “It
is
the Nexus.”

“Piper's right,” Cole said. “You need an altar or something equivalent. A place that is specifically for you to use magic so the rest of this place can be your home.”

“Like I can shut a door and forget where I am?” Prue scoffed. “Don't think that's happening anytime soon.”

“We get it, Prue,” Piper said. “You'll never forget where you are. But you can't keep wallowing. It's time to suck it up and deal.”

“
There's
the Piper I remember,” Prue said, getting up from her chair. “Fine. Let me try something. You might want to get up too, Piper.”

Prue closed her eyes once she saw that Piper had followed her instructions. The last thing she wanted to do was drop her sister onto the floor.

Even with her eyes closed, Prue could sense the books on the floor around them disappearing. The walls began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, until those books became a blur of color. The immense room they were in was shrinking, growing closer and closer to them as it spun.

“Uh, Prue?” Piper stepped closer to her sister.

“It's okay,” Prue replied with her eyes still shut. “I got this.”

The walls continued closing in on them and the ceiling still dropped. Prue could see it all in her mind, herself included. It was like the Nexus was her eyes, watching her as it changed. She could see Piper and Cole were in awe of her and maybe slightly afraid. But Prue had the situation entirely under control.

When she opened her eyes again, the change was complete. The room was smaller, more intimate, with candles casting shadowy light throughout. Wooden cabinets lined the space filled with whatever spell-casting materials she could need: herbs and flowers, mortars and pestles. A fainting couch of purple velvet was off to the side, the perfect place to sit and think or lie back and meditate. Beside it was a small, round table with an even smaller cauldron sitting in the center. The room was finished off with a triquetra design in the floor, tying her to her sisters and the power that started them on the path they began together.

“You missed some of the books,” Piper said, pointing to a small stack in the corner.

Prue smiled. “No. Those are the Harry Potter books. I've been wanting to know how it ends.”

Piper laughed and took a seat on the couch. “Okay. Now what?”

“Now I commune.” Prue took a seat on the floor in the center of the triquetra, closing her eyes again, and filling her mind. She focused on the problem and the mystery herbs. She called out to locate the man named Jacob Perly. She asked for information on the mysterious Book of Light and how it was related to their own Book of Shadows, if at all.

Nothing came.

Prue refused to break concentration, calling out mentally for help from the Warren line of witches and the Council of Elders. She summoned assistance from anyone she could contact in the Upper Regions, and even a few beings she knew from the Underworld. The only response she got was a crick in her neck and a cold butt. The neck she couldn't do anything about, but she added some heating devices under the floor so she could at least be more comfortable until she finally gave up.

When Prue opened her eyes again, she saw that Cole was gone and Piper was asleep on the couch. “I know it's late here, but it's still day in your time zone,” she said.

“What?” Piper slowly roused. “You're back? Did you find anything?”

“Back? Did I go somewhere?” Prue asked, standing carefully. Her legs were tired from sitting.

“Not physically, but we couldn't reach you,” Piper said. “You were out for over an hour.”

“An hour? It felt like seconds. But I didn't find anything. Not a flash of insight. Nothing. How could I have been out an hour?”

“Beats me, but you were,” Piper said. “Cole went off to get some coffee. I must have dozed off in the meantime.”

“Well, that's good at least. I was worried when I saw he was gone. I thought maybe he slipped out to go in search of some demon contacts.”

“No, just caffeine,” Cole said as he returned with a tray and three mugs. “Find anything?”

Prue gave her answer in the form of a look.

“Then I vote for my idea,” Cole said. “Failing any other course of action, it's the most logical decision.”

Prue took a mug from the tray. “I'm not saying we won't consider it, Cole. But let's hold on to it as a last resort.”

Cole handed another mug to Piper. “Seems to me we're running out of—”

Prue dropped her mug, spilling coffee on the triquetra. Her eyes glazed over, open, but not alert. Piper's voice echoed in her mind: “Prue!”

Images flashed again. Painful. Hard. A vicious attack. Witchcraft against something . . . dark . . . but hidden within the light.
The light.
So bright. So
blinding.

The room came into focus again. Piper and Cole were looking down at Prue. She was on the floor, beside the spilled coffee.

“Boston,” Prue said. “Go. Now!”

Piper didn't ask any questions. She just called out into the air: “Paige!”

The Charmed Ones orbed directly to the scene of the attack. Prue had warned them that there wasn't time for discretion. They'd already lost too much time getting Paige, gathering Phoebe, and having them travel back and forth around the world. If the situation were as bad as it seemed in her vision, their sudden appearance would hardly be noticed.

Prue had been right. The attack must have been awful. Paige, Piper, and Phoebe orbed right into the middle of the aftermath. It was someone's home, or what was left of a home. Furniture was overturned and smashed. Pictures had fallen, littering the floor with broken glass. One wall was nearly blown out and a window completely gone.

They were too late. The attack was over. An older woman was on the floor, unconscious. No one else was there.

“Ohhh, not good,” Phoebe said, moving for the woman. “Not good. Ma'am? Ma'am, are you okay?”

No answer.

“Paige!”

Paige was beside her in a moment. She didn't know what the exact problem was, but that hadn't always mattered in the past. She held one hand over the woman's head and the other over her heart, calling on her Whitelighter power to heal. Paige could feel the warmth spread through her body, emanating through her hands. A golden glow washed over the woman's skin as she gasped and then breathed steadily.

The woman was slow to rouse. Her eyes flitted open and shut before she fought to become alert. As her eyes focused and she realized she was not alone, she snapped back into consciousness. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” She looked around. “Where did that
woman
go?”

“Woman?” Paige asked. “It was a woman? Not a man?”

“Emily Fisk-Navarro,” she replied. “A repugnant witch hater.”

“At least this one's not bothering to hide the truth from us,” Piper said.

“Did you say
Fisk?
” Phoebe asked.

“Why would I hide from the Charmed Ones?” the woman responded to Piper as she shakily got to her feet.

“You know us?” Piper asked.

“Three young women suddenly show up in the living room of a witch after a vicious attack? Who else would it be? I'm Charlene, by the way. Charlene Bell. It's very nice to meet you. I've been a fan for years.”

Charlene offered her hand to Phoebe, who shook it gently, not wanting to hurt the woman after what she'd been through. Phoebe was accustomed to people familiar with her work at the
Mirror.
Her advice column had grown in popularity and her book,
Finding Love,
was already generating some buzz long before its release date. But the celebrity of being a Charmed One was still odd, no matter how many times people from the magical community had showed up on the Halliwell doorstep.

“So, you knew your attacker?” Phoebe asked as she released Charlene's hand.

“Oh, yes,” Charlene said. “I've been dealing with her for years. I run the local Wiccan historical society. We work to shine a light on the injustices of the past. Not just for women perceived to be witches, but for all women. Of course, no one knows that I'm an actual practicing witch of the supernatural variety. Except Emily, apparently. She's been trying to shut us down for ages. I never imagined she'd attack me on a magical level. Never suspected she could.”

“Is she a warlock?” Paige asked. “Evil witch, I mean.”

“No,” Charlene replied. “Just a mortal woman with an unfortunate hairdo. At least, I always thought she was mortal. She spends enough time railing against magic that I never expected to see her holding anything of real power.”

“She did all this?” Piper asked as she righted a chair so Charlene could sit.

Charlene blushed as she took the seat. “Technically, that was me. Emily had this book with her. Tried to use it to cast some spell on me in some language I've never heard before. Well, I wasn't about to let her mess with me so I threw everything I had at her: spells, incantations, potions, my natural power. Nothing worked on her as long as she held that book. That just made me try harder. The last thing I remember is her opening the book. Then everything went black.”

“Did she have a powder with her?” Paige asked. “Green? Sparkling?”

“Not that I recall,” Charlene said. “But I went down hard. I don't know what she did after I was out.”

The sisters gave each other a look. It was clear this woman held her magic very close to her heart. This was not going to be easy.

Phoebe was the first to speak. “We think Emily may have taken your active power. Can you try to do some magic?”

“That's impossible,” Charlene said. “Emily is little more than a pest. She doesn't have any special abilities beyond the power to annoy. Even with that book she held, she could never do anything like that.”

“I don't think it was her, exactly,” Paige said. “I'm pretty sure it's something about the book. It gives nonmagical beings access to magic they couldn't normally control.”

“And you think she could have taken my gift?” Charlene's eyes welled with tears as Paige's cell phone rang.

Paige pulled the phone out of her pocket and checked the screen. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I've got to take this.” She left the room so she wouldn't disturb them any further.