Witch's Diary: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 4) (21 page)

Kenna tugged her phone out from her back pocket. Were her jeans tighter? She squirmed in her seat. Was her ass bigger? She scowled. Who cared how big her ass got? She wasn’t getting any for the foreseeable future, so what did she care? She texted Lizzie: Might need Sp. C. Know anyone who’s available?

Setting her phone down, Kenna said, “Let’s put aside the issue of a spell caster for now. Here’s what she described. Four colors, representative of the four elemental magic components in the barrier.”

“Oh. What color am I?” Angela asked, her face eager.

“Brown, maybe?” Kenna replied. When she saw the disappointment on Angela’s face, she said, “I’m not really sure. The focus was more on how the colors interacted.”

“Humph. You know, there are some truly gorgeous colors that exist in nature. Not to diminish brown. Brown is nice, too.” Angela blushed. “Sorry. Silly, I know. Go ahead.”

Kenna tried not to laugh. When Angela blushed, she was just like the fair-skinned Lizzie: brilliant red. “So the colors intertwine and blend into one another. It sounds like it’s more than a net or rope where the pieces remain distinct.”

“Ugh. It sounds like a potion, but with magic and no ingredients.” Angela’s face had mellowed to a charming pink.

“Is that bad?” Kenna asked.

“It’s difficult,” Walter responded. “But we suspected it would be. Anything else?”

“This part I didn’t understand, but I figured it was because I don’t have a good grasp on witch magic. You have to un-blend the colors, you know, the different magics. Then once they’ve separated into individual components, pluck one thread of magic—whichever is the most vulnerable—and…neutralize it or get rid of it. Do you know how to neutralize witch magic?” Kenna couldn’t believe how different the magic was from what little she’d learned from Lizzie.

Walter ran a hand through his hair. “It depends. It’s almost always a question of power. Fire magic against fire. So a fire witch couldn’t combat the earth, air, and water components as easily as she might fire. And I’m guessing it takes a full team of four witches to un-blend the magics. Which is why the cell makes such an effective form of solitary imprisonment. What do you know about neutralizing magic other than witch magic?”

“I’m hardly an expert…” Kenna wasn’t even sure if it was okay to talk about this stuff.

“But you’re the resource we have, so—whatcha got?” Alan asked.

Kenna’s butt vibrated. She pulled her phone out of her pocket again. Working on it. Kenna frowned. Working on it: I’ll take care of it? Or working on it: I’m not sure if we can help you? Nah. She looked up from her phone. “I think we’re getting a spell caster.” Shaking her head, she returned to the question. “With spell-caster magic, you’d look for the flaw. But this barrier seems to be witch magic. Period. Just energy without purpose or function.”

“Right. Throw up a big wall of fire, and as an air witch I can’t walk through it. Real fire, fire magic. Doesn’t matter.” Alan crossed his arms across his chest. “That is the function in this case.”

“Holy shit—I can walk through a wall of fire?” Kenna couldn’t believe it. A perk, finally.

Alan raised his hand. “No one heard me tell her to do that, right?” Giving her a serious look, he said, “I have no clue if you can walk through a wall of fire. Your mom can pass through magical fire, and it’s hard to hurt her with fire magic. That said, I’m pretty darn sure she’s never been enough of an idiot to try to walk through non-magical fire.”

Walter looked a little frustrated. “To get back on point, you’re saying spell-caster magic can be given different purposes? Elemental magic certainly has to be directed, but it sounds different.”

Kenna sighed. “Okay, long story short. Spell casters can take their own magic, attach it to an object, and make it do something specific. That’s called a ward. Example: my house is warded to make a sound when anyone with magic enters, excepting a predetermined list of people.”

Angela seemed intrigued. “That’s cool. Actually, I suppose I do something similar. I infuse plants growing in my garden with some of my magic that heightens certain aspects of the plant. So I ‘attach’ my magic to the plants for the purpose of enhancing certain properties.”

“Water and air are primarily about movement, controlling flow and location,” Alan said.

Kenna nodded absent-mindedly as she considered what she’d learned. “So the mere presence of large quantities of magic will keep Mom contained. I really thought there was a specific message tied up in it. I was thinking in terms of spell-caster magic. Like, the room had been warded to zap anyone who touched the wall.” Kenna pinched the bridge of her nose. “So what’s the plan?”

Walter sighed. “Sounds like the first hurdle is to figure out how to pull each elemental magic apart from the others. Then I’d pick one element and dampen it. Push it down, till it’s not there anymore. That’s how I would neutralize unfriendly water magic.”

“Holy crap. Is that how I’m supposed to put fire out?” Kenna couldn’t believe he made it sound so easy. Wait a minute. “But you make your magic sound tangible. ‘Push it.’ Lizzie says the same thing. Like her magic is a tangible thing she can touch. I don’t get that.”

“I’ve got this.” Angela nodded in Kenna’s direction and stood up. Then she pointed a finger at Walter and Alan. “You guys can get started. Just a second, though.” She went into the kitchen and came back with a cutting board. Presenting it to Walter, she said, “Your wall, sir.”

Walter took the board. “If we get that far this morning,” Walter muttered. He put an arm around Alan’s shoulders. “Looks like you and I are making some magic rope. Or net.”

Alan’s reply faded quietly as both men moved into the living room.

Angela turned back to Kenna. “Walter and your friend can tug their magic around like a little puppy on a string. But it doesn’t work like that for everyone. Although I do agree with Walter—more instruction is better—the idea behind Gwen’s hands-off approach is sound. My magic is coaxed, not pulled. Yours seems intuitive, responding to intent. That’s why there’s a school that says each witch should discover how their magic wakens with little interference.”

“Great. So are you going to guide a little?” Kenna hoped that was the plan. Some guidance seemed better than floundering in complete ignorance.

Angela grinned. “Sure thing. That’s why I volunteered.” She fetched the cinnamon candle from the kitchen, placed it on the table between the two of them, and sat back down. “I can’t see magic, but I know you lit this.” When Kenna’s eyes widened, Angela said, “No pictures or pretty colors. But it feels like fire magic.” She dug around in her purse and pulled out a smooth stone. She held it in her hand and rubbed it gently with her thumb then handed it to Kenna.

“It’s warm. And tingly?” Kenna could feel the smile spreading across her face. “It feels like when my mom used to brush my hair when I was a little girl.”

“Thank you.” Angela seemed flattered.

Kenna cocked her head. “Why, exactly? What is this?”

“Earth witches have an affinity for rocks, stones, wood”—Angela’s eyes crinkled mischievously—“and gems. So I can convince them to hold my magic, for a while. That’s my magic you’re feeling.”

Kenna closed her hand around it. “Wow.”

“It’s a little like what I feel in your fire. Touch your lit candle.”

Kenna placed the stone carefully on the table. When she touched the cool glass of the jar holding the candle, she didn’t feel anything in particular. Then just a small pulse, a flash of warmth. “Maybe.” She tried to find that warmth again but failed. “Nothing.”

“What did you think you felt?”

Kenna made a frustrated sound. “Maybe a little pulse of warmth. But then I lost it.”

“Your magic feels like…like when I’m buzzing on caffeine. Energized. Electric.”

“Huh.” Kenna didn’t know how she felt about that. “And that’s what all fire witch magic feels like?”

“Not necessarily, but there’s a similarity. Don’t try so hard this time.” Angela nodded at the candle.

Exhaling, Kenna let her shoulders relax. Just like shooting at the range—let the recoil and report of the gun surprise her. Or the magic woo-woo feeling, as the case may be. She wrapped her hands around the jar. And there it was. “Got it.” She let go of the jar before she chased the feeling away. “It’s a sneaky little wisp.”

“No. It’s actually there. Faint, but there. Don’t grab or chase. I’d tell you to relax, but I don’t particularly want you laughing in my face. Try again.” Angela must have interpreted Kenna’s hesitation as reluctance, because she said, “This will help with control. If you can feel your own magic, you can direct it.”

“And squash it like a bug?” Kenna asked.

“Extinguish your fire? Yes.”

If relaxing helped, then Kenna would get Zenned out and make this shit happen. An off button would be a really good thing to have.

“I’m going to leave you at it for a few minutes and check on the guys. Is that okay?” Angela gave her a searching look.

“Definitely. Can you see what kind of sandwiches they want? There’s a flyer for Thundercloud Subs on the fridge. Max, a friend of mine and of the Texas Pack, is stopping by to help, and he’s picking up lunch on the way. I need to text him our orders.”

“No problem. I’m guessing he’s not a spell caster?” Angela looked hopeful.

“No such luck. Plain vanilla human, no magic.”

“I figured you’d have offered him up if he was a spell caster—but one can hope. I’ll just grab everyone’s orders.” Angela patted Kenna’s arm in a motherly, supportive way then headed to the living room.

Kenna had a surreal moment when it hit her that these people—Angela, Walter, and Alan—were her mom’s longtime co-conspirators. They all knew a side of her mom Kenna was only just starting to become aware of. It was a weird feeling. She shook off the feeling and turned her attention to her nemesis—the fat red candle.

Several attempts later, Kenna’s eyes were bleary and her head thumped in time to the flickering of the stupid freaking flame. She leaned back in her chair and groaned. She rubbed at her eyes, and when she opened them she saw the small pebble near the edge of the table. Angela’s magic stone emanated motherly, comforting witchy vibes. Kenna didn’t even have to try to feel Angela’s magic. Why was her own so elusive?

Kenna picked up the stone and rolled it between her hands. Earth witches and stones. What was her stone? It wasn’t like she could store magic in a candle. Or…could she? That was a question to ask, certainly. She rubbed the stone with her thumb. The magic was solid; it had a firm, tangible feeling that hers didn’t. She curled her lip in annoyance. Hers was ephemeral, insubstantial. Wispy, like smoke. Huh. She squeezed the stone hard in her hand and the magic pulsed between her fingers.

She pushed her chair back and went into the living room. Angela, Alan, and Walter looked as puzzled and frustrated as she’d been feeling in the kitchen. “Project Rope isn’t going well?”

“Actually, no, it’s going well.” Walter sounded surprised by their own success. “That part has gone surprising well. Even without the visual clues, we’ve managed to cobble together some semblance of a net using the three elemental magics. And with Angela’s earth magic, we even got it to stick to the board.”

Kenna squinted. “But?”

“The whole thing falls apart if you barely tug on any of the magic strands. So any one witch could tear it apart.” Alan looked disgusted.

Angela wrinkled her nose. “And we’ve gotten it to stick about as well as reused packing tape.”

“Not well,” Walter added. “It doesn’t stick well, at all. Angela’s magic works with wood, stone, and a lot of the things you’d find in building materials. But combining it with ours seems to dilute it.”

“I need to send our lunch orders, so maybe let’s take a break?” Kenna accepted the slip of paper Angela wordlessly handed her and texted a pic of the orders to Max. “So while we’re waiting for lunch, I had a question for you guys. How do you touch smoke?”

“I’m guessing this has some tie in with your magic?” Alan asked.

Angela shushed him with a frown and an uplifted hand. After she gave the question some thought, she said, “You can breathe it. You can immerse yourself in it—like a smoky room.”

“And if there’s not enough to walk through? If I don’t have a smoky room to sit in?” Kenna asked. The analogy wasn’t working quite as she’d like.

“Concentrate the smoke.” Walter’s eyes were slightly unfocused, as if he was looking past them, into the distance, for an answer. “If you can’t push the magic, try pushing the space around it.” Walter blinked once then nodded. “Once you’ve got it—sensing your magic, I mean—you’ve got it. Making the initial connection can be difficult for some, though.”

Great—no telling how long before she figured this thing out. And she was on a tightening deadline. The candle… “One more thing. Can fire witches store magic? Like, in a candle, or some other easily lit item?”

Walter shook his head. “I’m not sure it works that way for fire witches. At least, I’ve never known Gwen to do it.”

“Huh,” Alan said. When silence followed, he looked around and saw everyone was waiting for him to comment. “Sorry, it’s just—why would Gwen store magic? She’s one of the most powerful witches around. She doesn’t need to stash her magic into a vessel, because she has this crazy, seemingly unending supply.” Alan looked uncomfortable. “And Angela just uses those little stones to infuse magic into her garden. But to stash power…” He shrugged. “None of us have likely had a need. Gwen especially. I know we don’t talk about it and it doesn’t come up much, but Gwen’s in a class of her own.” Alan looked at his buddies for confirmation. “You know I’m right.”

“Wow.” Who knew Kenna’s mom was so scary, but cool, but scary? “If she’s that badass, how’d they get her?”

“Drugged her? Everyone is vulnerable in some way at some time, and Gwen would have been cautious but not fanatically so,” Angela said.

Naturally, the drugging idea came from the lady who makes potions.

“Or they have a mobile version of their holding cell.” Alan picked up the board they’d been working with and flipped it around in his hands, as if it would reveal some mystery. “The holding cell seems to be a net attached to the walls of a room. Perhaps they used an actual net with the same properties?”