Witch's Brew - Spellspinners 1 (Spellspinners of Melas County) (8 page)

“Mom, it’s okay. It’s here.”

She fingered my amulet like it was poisoned. “What is
this
?”

Finally, she looked at me the way she had on my sixteenth birthday, when she gave me the amulet—a strange expression of fear mixed with the slightest glimmer of hope. “This isn’t your great-grandmother’s amulet. The warlock switched it.”

Now I was the startled one. “No way. He couldn’t have. I was right there the whole time…”

But she wasn’t listening. I saw her fists clench and felt her fury rage within her. The rich dirt under our feet began to tremble. Her voice sharpened into an accusational blade. “This is Jacob’s doing. He knew you were wearing the amulet.”

Grey clouds moved too fast over our heads, trying to cover the sun. The ground shook harder. I had to calm her down. “Mom. No. You’re wrong. This is my necklace.” I shook my head. “How could Logan have switched it? I was right there, watching…”

Trying to ignore the thickening fog, the vibrating earth beneath our feet, I re-played the scene in my mind’s eye. When could he have done it? And how? He was only a Cerulean like me. He couldn’t transform a pebble into a precious indigo stone. There was no way.

Unless Logan was lying.

Unless he
had
lured me to sleep. That was the only way he could have made a replacement.

“I guess it’s a possibility,” I admitted. “But you still don’t want to start an earthquake.”

Iris’ jaw set firm. “There’s only one way to know for sure.” Carrying the necklace like it was a dead newt—simultaneously useful and foul—she dangled it over the birdbath.

Instantly, the ground stopped shaking. But then the wind picked up, as she channeled a different goddess’s energy.

When the amulet touched the birdbath the water shone purple and began to swirl like a tiny whirlpool. Iris clutched the chain, her back arched tight, as if the waters were a greedy mouth trying to swallow the stone.

“See the colors darkening?” she nearly shouted over the wind whipping the backyard fruit trees. I nodded and then jumped as a loud thunderclap shook the sky, our yard…maybe even all of Melas.

Iris tumbled onto the dirt, as if tossed by invisible hands.

“Mom! Are you okay?”

Her voice was wheezy. “This isn’t a fake,” she said, “It’s also not your amulet. Didn’t you notice the shape is different? But the likeness is remarkable.” I watched Iris’ eyes change. “This kind of amulet isn’t from the dark side of magic.”

I tucked my whipping hair behind my ears. “So where did Logan get it?”

“I don’t know. But we’re going to find out.”

“Can you do me a favor first and try and chill out this storm?”

Iris looked up at the trees. At scattered lemons and oranges and ripe plums split open, pouring red, pulpy juice, which as soon as the sun peeked back from around the magic-induced clouds would begin rotting on the dirt.

“Oh. That,” she said like some stoner dude on the Boardwalk. Like it was the first time she’d noticed the storm.

“Yeah,” I said, “The storm that just knocked you over?” I gestured up to the sky with my thumb. Then pointed it down to the earth. “I guess your magic still works?”

I asked the question for a reason. I wanted to know. “Obviously you can spin a spell, but can you still control it?”

“My power exists, but it is reckless. The surges wax and wane—I can’t control them like I used to. And soon, they may not exist at all.”

The wind lulled to a gentle breeze, and the sun returned.

The earth beneath my feet stilled.

“If Logan stole my amulet, why would he give me his in return? Something so powerful?”

Iris shook her head. “He must have had a reason. And we are going to find that out, too. But first, we need to get back your stone. It is meant to protect you, and you’ll need that protection. But in order to do that, you must confess everything to Camellia.”

I wished I could disappear into the earth beneath me.

Maybe I could go find Dad? Join him on his yoga quest for fulfillment?

“No. You’re going to tell Camellia.”

I swallowed back tears. “Fine. I’ll tell Camellia, Mom. But you need to tell me about my amulet.”

She nodded quickly, then took my hand—a small act of motherly kindness to let me know her making me confess to Camellia wasn’t personal. She wasn’t trying to be a mean and dictatorial mom. It was just business.

Strict coven business.

Her first priority.

Her first honor.

But I’d make her come through on her promise to me. She wasn’t going to skirt these questions like she did with questions about my dad. A lot was on the line—my place in the coven, my reputation, and most importantly, my magic.

I needed to understand why my grandmother’s amulet was so much more than an heirloom. And why Logan risked so much to steal it.

Logan

Logan had to tell someone about the witch’s amulet. He waited until the rest of the warlocks were busy with other things to convince Chance to leave the grounds and head to the water. The ocean was the place he felt the safest.

They were on their boards, waiting for a decent set of waves, when he confessed the whole story: meeting Lily, swapping the amulets, everything.

“Whoa, back the hackles up, a witch? A real deal Melas coven female? Do you have any idea how crazy this sounds, not to mention so unlike you?”

“I know, I know. It wasn’t as if I went looking for her. I literally just stumbled upon her.”

Chance shook his head. He was sitting up, straddling his board. “You can’t do it again.”

“Do what?”

“Stumble upon a witch! You know, unless you’re knocking one out with your sword in the Gleaning. Then step all over that.” He laughed wickedly while Logan frowned.

The thought of Lily on the ground injured by something he’d done made him sick. “But her amulet looked so much like mine. I guess I followed her to find out more. I know it was reckless.”

“As long as you get that, it should be cool. I won’t say anything.”

“Thanks.”

They floated over the waves in silence. Logan was grateful Chance didn’t dig in his point. Logan made a mistake, Chance told him how he felt about it. The end.

“Chance, if you could become a human, would you?” Logan paused. “I mean entirely human.”

“I couldn’t be. Voudoun is in my blood.”

“But hypothetically, if you could be born again without it. With no knowledge of any of it, would you?”

Chance held back to let a few human kids take the first set. He glanced at Logan sidelong. “You have to be dead to start over. And I don’t want to die.” Chance glanced over his shoulder eying the next set of waves. “I’ve worked hard to get where I am. Besides, magic is all I’ve ever known. I see how humans live. I was there during Katrina, remember? It was a tragic mess—the worst of the human condition. I can transcend all that now. The inevitable death and dying. The rot. The struggle to work, reproduce, just to start heading downhill toward death? No thanks.”

“Hate to point out the obvious, but have you looked at Jacob lately?” Logan said. “It’s not exactly like he’s avoiding the downhill spiral toward death. He looks like he’s already accepted the invitation and is knocking on the front door.”

“But it won’t happen to us. Not for awhile anyway. So this witch? Was she unbelievably hot? You know they cling on to that fountain of youth perk of theirs like crack.”

“She was…yeah, she was very pretty.”

Understatement of the century.

“Would be nice to have that perk again.”

“Yeah, it does seem like Jacob would be more eager to mend things with the witches, for vanity’s sake alone.”

“Mending things? Jacob? Peace would be the last option on his list. He likes fighting them. Loves stealing back part of what he feels was rightfully his.”

“But he doesn’t even fight anymore, we do.”

“Maybe he’s living vicariously? Dude, I don’t know.”

Logan confided in Chance what he’d been thinking about all day. “What if that’s why he’s so intent on winning in the Gleaning? What if some of the energy we glean off the witches is the key to age reversal?”

“How would that benefit him then?”

“I’m not sure yet. But I do know I’m feeling a little wary about the whole idea of the Gleaning now. I mean, if she's not evil, then wouldn't it be evil to destroy her?"

“We’re warlocks,” he said by means of explanation. “You’re acting really weird, dude. Since when have you been bothered by using aggression?”

“Since…”

His word caught in the air.

Since meeting Lily.

Since stealing her amulet.

Of course. Her amulet. It was making him all…weak minded. And adversarial. Making him think treasonous thoughts.

“Am I really being weird?”

“You are Leader of the Sons of Darkness, Logan. And you just now said…”

“I know what I said.”

“Give me the charm.” Chance reached over the water.

“I can’t.”

“Then I can’t protect you.”

“I don’t need protection from
her
. She’s not evil, Chance, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s like we’re…fated or something."

Logan flashed on the moment he saw her for the first time, curled on the rock, sheets of white-blonde hair spilling over her shoulders like new-fallen snow.

“You have to drop this line of thought, Cheese. You know exactly who you are. Who we all are. It’s treason to talk this way. It’s her amulet taking hold of you.”

Logan felt the waves rise under him. Chance wasn’t on board yet. He had to drop it, or he risked getting Chance in trouble, too.

“You’re right, I’ll stop worrying about it. We all have enough on our minds without adding a witch into the mix.”

“Good man,” Chance said.

The waves rose beneath them, and they took off for the shore.

For the moment Logan might have meant what he said.

Lily

“This emergency meeting was called to discuss Lily’s contact with a warlock outside their boundaries. A warlock who claimed to be the son of Jacob.”

The large group of coven members gasped at Camellia’s words.

“The bad news and first order of concern is exposure. If Jacob finds out, he will accuse us of trespassing. Lily knew better than to roam that far from the coven, especially that close to Black Mountain,” Camellia chastised. “Especially this close to such an important solstice…”

She left the rest of the sentence dangling. I doubted the young witches knew just how important the solstice was. That the Year of the Curse was about to begin. The elders nodded knowingly, however.

“Yes. I apologize for that,” I said, keeping my head bowed in respect. I’d begged Iris not to tell Camellia about the euca leaves, and she hadn’t. But I had to swear I’d never consider cheating again. I’d promised in earnest, squeezing Mom until I thought she’d crumble into dust. Then she’d warned me about the meeting: take responsibility, be entirely polite. So I took responsibility. I was entirely polite. I was appreciative of her keeping part of my secret. But I hated this.

“How did she make contact with a warlock?” an old witch named Pansy asked.

Camellia explained that I’d been out hiking, and that I was hexed by a spell that left me sleeping on a rock. That the warlock stumbled upon me. The room burst with concern and theories.

“This had to be Jacob’s doing!” a brunette witch, Laurel, blurted out.

A hush went over the group when Camellia silenced them with her hand.

“If Jacob trapped Lily and ordered his warlock to play this game with her amulet, then
he
is the one breaking the Seven Sisters’ rules about contact outside the Solstice Stones,” Camellia said. “Though I admit, it seems unlikely. Jacob may be a lot of things, but he isn’t a rule breaker. He has too much to lose risking a disciplinary infraction from our Congression majority so close to the Gleaning.”

The elder witches exchanged glances. “This could be a different situation. The boy could be acting alone.”

I didn’t want to give up my opinion of Logan. True, he didn’t seem like someone who would act as a pawn for his master, but I believed him when he said he hadn’t enchanted me.

Camellia peered at me over thin glasses, her purple eyes probing. “If we’re up against one young warlock, we may get the amulet back.”

“How so?” I asked.

“You must have made an impression upon him. Iris said he revealed his ink to you?”

All eyes were on me now. I squirmed in my bean bag. “Yes, but that was situational. We, well, when we, um, touched, the amulet burned us.”

“When you touched?” a young, curly-haired young witch, Daffodil, blurted out. “You touched a warlock!”

“What did he look like?”

“How old was he?”

“Did he have horns?”

“A pet dragon? I hear they ride on their shoulders?”

The room exploded with questions and comments. Camellia had to flicker the lights like an angry schoolteacher, just to get them to stop.

“Quiet! Lily will share all she knows, but we must have order to this meeting. So, Lily. It appears you shared a…heated moment, no?”

“There was…um, I guess, tension between us.”

“How so?” She paused. “Go on, we’re all curious.”

“And don’t hold back on the physical details,” Jasmine called out from the window seat. I was mortified. Not only did I have to admit I was wandering around near warlock boundaries, but now I had to share all these personal details about Logan?

The witches hung on my every word, nodding at each other, their eyes sparkling. The younger ones looked at me with a mix of awe and respect. Especially Daisy, who was literally on the edge of her seat. Not only had I crossed the line into enemy territory, but I’d met a warlock outside the Stones, and lived to tell the tale. The only one who didn’t look entranced was Orchid. Rightly, she looked pissed that I’d kept such a huge secret. When I mouthed “Sorry,” she just shrugged.

When I got to the part about the mixed rainbow of energies, I hesitated.

“That’s enough,” Camellia said, holding up her hand.

I stopped, grateful to her. She probably didn’t want the coven to freak out even more than they were already. Or get more flustered.