Hell's Spells (Ordinary Magic Book 6)

by Devon Monk

  For a second, I wasn’t just Delaney, standing in a grove of trees behind the police station. I was also Delaney, the Bridge to Ordinary, standing in Frigg’s grove, in front of the hollow tree where all the god powers lay at rest, dreaming.

  I could feel the connection from the grove to the bobbin, as if each were a part of a larger mechanism. Both a piece of a spinning wheel connected by pedal and band and flyer and maidens.

  The bobbin in my hand wasn’t a separate piece or separate vessel to transport the power, it was a part of the storage, a part of that place brought here, to me.

  It was a very lovely little bit of magic, and fully within the rules of Ordinary.

  “Does that clear it up?” she asked.

  I knew it had been less than a minute. Only a few seconds since she had dropped the bobbin in my palm, even though it felt like I’d been ringing with that revelation for hours.

  “Yeah. Yes,” I said. “It’s a direct channel, not a vessel.”

  “Well, not just a vessel,” she confirmed.

  “Okay,” I said. “Yes. This works. So, Tala. To enter Ordinary you must agree to set your power down and live your life as close to a mortal life as possible.”

  “I understand.”

  “There are risks. Without your power, you can be injured. In extreme instances, you can be killed and your power will have to be transferred to another mortal. I will be the way in which your power is transferred if that happens.”

  She stepped away from Than and stood in front of me and Frigg, the perfect point in our triangle. “Delaney,” she said kindly. “I fully understand my actions and the consequences of them. I agree to the terms. Now, shall I shed this power so I can see the color of your ocean with my own eyes?”

  I nodded. Some gods needed a lot of reminding of what they were getting into. Especially those gods who didn’t like to follow rules, or who had never followed rules.

  I’d been dealing with demons a lot lately too. Demons who hadn’t found a rule they couldn’t wait to break.

  “Frigg, do you agree to harbor and keep safe Tala’s power?”

  “Yes. Happy to.”

  I nodded at Tala.

  She reached for me, and I took her hand as she offered Frigg her other hand. Frigg took it and also pressed her palm against the back of my shoulder.

  I inhaled, exhaled and then—

  —light, rising soft and pure, no heat, silver trill of birdsong, of starsong, a call, a hope—

  —opened my mind, my soul, the path of me that was Ordinary’s heart—

  —a single note, a pulse point, silence held, then a breath—

  —power, Tala’s power, the goddess of the morning star fell silent and liquid through my veins, flowing like a mercury river into the bobbin, into the grove, into the welcoming arms of Frigg’s spinning wheel, another thread, another string weaving the fabric of the universe.

  Then it was done.

  “Good,” I said, still vibrating with the aftermath of carrying such exquisite energy. “Welcome to Ordinary, Talli. Than, would you please show her around?”

  She smiled. Even though she wasn’t carrying power, it was brighter somehow, better somehow.

  Free.

  “Thank you. Both.” She gave Frigg’s hand a squeeze. Frigg removed her hand from my shoulder so she could give her a quick pat on the shoulder.

  “Us girls have to stick together,” she said with a wink. “So, Delaney. The crowning? I’ll see you there?”

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. “If for no reason other than I want to see what you’re lying about, yes. You’ll see me there.”

  She waggled her eyebrows and started back to the rig. “If you two want a ride, I’ll take you,” she threw over her shoulder to Talli and Than.

  Talli turned to Than. “Should you like a ride?”

  “I should rather a walk,” he said. “A stroll.”

  “Well then.” She offered her hand, poised to take his arm. He strode forward, his face carefully blank, slotting his elbow in place.

  Without even one more word, they strolled off, leaving me behind.

  “Okay,” I said, watching them go. “Don’t worry about me or anything.”

  An oinking by my feet drew my attention. Dragon pig sat there, looking up at me with its adorable face.

  “Hey, buddy. You did a good job with that demon back there.” The dragon pig oinked again, hopped up to its feet. “You wouldn’t want to tell me what the crowning’s all about, would you?”

  It just grunted and smacked its lips.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I think I have some spoons in the car.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Bertie had outdone herself, which was really saying something, because I’d been to almost every one of her events since I was a kid, and she went all out on all of them.

  The streetlights were hung with pennants in softly contrasting colors. She’d done up the light poles with flowers and leaves, little teapots and cups scattered here and there in the flowers to give another pop of bright color. Flag-like banners were staked in front of shops on every block. Suspended from the trees and awning were little paper wheels and streamers in flashy copper and silver.

  And the flowers. They were everywhere. Potted and hung vines and bushes created paths between the businesses, circled little cozy eating areas and a gazebo that hadn’t been there yesterday. There was a stage where an empty lot had been this morning.

  The area around the petting zoo seemed greener somehow. Children were playing badminton without a net and running with ribbons in their hands.

  It was beautiful. Not a fairy land, not an amusement park. It felt more like she had transformed this stretch of town into a garden filled with little tables and benches and nooks where sitting for a cup of tea and bite of pastry seemed like the most normal thing to do.

  It was October in Oregon, but right now, today, it was summer. It was long warm days with friends and family. It was a moment no one in their right mind would want to miss.

  From the look of the crowd wending its way through all the little grottos and groves, no one in thirty miles was missing it.

  The vendors were just as cleverly scattered throughout the event, some operating inside shops or in little alleyways between buildings, even a few lining the streets and side streets, creating mini food courts.

  I had no idea where the crowning was supposed to take place. I kept pulling my phone out and staring at the screen, expecting a message from Ryder, but there was no message there.

  After repeating that half a dozen times, I sighed and shoved the phone in my pocket. He’d left right after the magic jail incident and I hadn’t heard from him since. I wondered if he was out doing Mithra’s bidding again.

  Whether he was or not, today wasn’t the day I could try and fix that. I needed to be here, doing my job.

  I walked out into my town and worked the crowd, breaking up disagreements, helping a little boy find his lost daddy who jogged up behind him with a relieved look on his face. I held their ice cream while he explained that hide-and-seek wasn’t a game they were playing today.

  I drank tea. A lot of tea. Vendors waved me over and offered it “on the house” as if I were going to be one of the judges. The pastries were amazing, and after the fifth sample, I decided I really needed to pace myself.

  Hatter and Shoe rambled by once or twice, a hand lifting in a wave, as they continued their route. I wondered how many miles they would put in before the day ended. They were totally going to win the department mileage contest.

  As the day rolled on, I didn’t see Jean or Myra, but they checked in via text, so that was good.

  Really, it was a pretty good day all around.

  Then I found myself in front of the dress shop.

  For a minute, the crowd wasn’t my happy place, the day wasn’t summer bright. No. In that moment, I remembered getting excited about going out to dinner with Ryder. I’d even ended up with a dress just for the occasion.
I had been looking forward to it.

  I had been looking forward to him.

  I had hoped he would carve out at least a few minutes in his life for me.

  For us.

  “Looking for some shoes?” Cheryl leaned in the doorway of her shop. “I just got some sandals that would be darling with that dress you’re not wearing.”

  “No, thanks. I’m onto your ways.”

  “Oh?”

  “If I walk in that shop, I’m coming out with stuff.”

  “Gasp, I say. You are onto me. I don’t suppose you’d like to say that a little louder for the crowd?” She grinned, and I shook my head. “So why no dress?” she asked.

  “I’m working.”

  “Okay. Later, maybe? I mean, if you can’t wear a dress to a fancy tea party, then why have a dress at all?”

  I had a reply, which involved me griping about missed dinners, demons, gods, and an absent boyfriend, but I pushed it away. “Maybe I’ll put it on later.”

  “Sure.”

  “When I’m not on duty.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I do like it.”

  “Right. I can see that.” At my scowl, she tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her bright green capris. “You know a dress can just be worn for fun, no strings attached.”

  “Well, that’s good to know because buying one secondhand has been a hoot a minute.”

  She laughed, and I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m just saying, maybe you were saving the dress for something special, and maybe the special is just this. A nice day. A nice town. A very nice shop owner.”

  “If I wear the dress will you stop badgering me about it?”

  “Maybe. If you send me pics. Oh,” she said, as the idea hit her. “Wear it to the crowning. You’re off duty then, aren’t you?”

  “When is this thing? I swear everyone’s telling me to be there.”

  “Tonight? I’m not sure. Sunset?” If she was lying, she was amazing at it. “Hang on, I have the flyer thing Bertie dropped off.” She ducked into her shop, then came back with a flyer that had been folded in half lengthwise. “I really don’t pay much attention to the itineraries. Clothes shopping is sort of hit-and-miss at these kinds of things.”

  “Not much traffic?” I asked, taking the paper.

  “Halloween is my big season. Well, and Christmas. And prom. But high tea after everyone’s already done their back-to-school shopping? Not so much. Give me a week.”

  I opened the flyer. The crowning was at six. Right before sunset. It would be the cap to the event, the big announcement of the tasting winner, and raffle prizes from local businesses would be given out.

  “Hi. Happy High Tea Tide,” Cheryl said.

  I glanced up and moved out of the way as three young women—sisters, I’d guess—all funneled past her into her shop, already cooing over how retro the place was.

  “Could be worse,” I said nodding at the girls.

  She gave them a long look. “I think there are a few items they’d like.”

  “Well, go ahead. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on your retail threatening.”

  She barked a laugh and waved at me, disappearing into the shop with a jangle of the bell over the door.

  FORMAL DRESS PREFERRED

  Right there, in all bold, after the line item that explained what the crowning would be.

  I looked around the crowd, and yes, there were more people in dressier clothes than the normal yoga pants, shorts, and flip flops we usually got.

  “Hey, Boss,” Shoe said as he came down the sidewalk toward me.

  “Shoe. Are you in on the whole crowning thing too?”

  “What, at sunset? The prize giveaway? No. Why? Should I be? Did one of the judges drop out?”

  Okay, he wasn’t lying. “No. People just keep telling me I should be there.”

  “And you think that’s suspicious.”

  “In this town?”

  He sniffed in agreement, then scanned the crowd. “I haven’t seen anything out of the normal. The uh…petting zoo has been…entertaining.”

  “Tell me they aren’t talking.”

  “No. Stina is ruling that pen with an iron fist. She’s good at keeping her thumb on the troublemakers.”

  The troublemakers were undoubtedly the demons.

  “Good. There’s a new god in town. A goddess. Tala.”

  Shoe scrunched up his wide face. “I’m unfamiliar with her.”

  “Morning star. Than seems to have some kind of history with her.”

  His face split into a smile. “Well, this is going to be fun, isn’t it?”

  “I hope so.”

  He nodded, then spotted something over my shoulder. “I better get rolling. Say, where’s Ryder?”

  “He hasn’t checked in.”

  “Want me to slap some smart into him?”

  “I can take care of my personal life all on my own, thank you.”

  “Sure, Boss. But if you need back up.” He tapped his chest, right over his badge and his heart. Then he was off, moving like a slow-rolling bulldozer through the crowd.

  A whistle down the street made me turn that way. Since it was Hogan, pointing at a cup in his hand, a cup that was probably filled with coffee, I more than gladly headed that way.

  “Hey, Delaney,” he said, holding out the cup.

  “Is that more tea?”

  “Not even a little.”

  I took a sip. Coffee, rich and black. Not the way I usually took it, but with all the sweets and floral tea I’d been noshing, it was a welcome change.

  “Wish come true,” I sighed.

  He chuckled. “I aim to please.”

  “How’s it going?” I asked.

  “Great. Lots of new people coming in.” He glanced back toward his shop. “How much do you think a delivery van costs?”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve had six offices and five hotels ask if I’d keep them stocked in pastries.”

  “Sounds like a good way to expand.”

  He frowned, but he was nodding. “I’ll have to hire on.”

  “We got a new god in town. She’ll be looking for a job.”

  “Who?”

  “Tala.”

  He smiled. “Nice. Yeah, if you see her, send her my way.”

  “So that’s nice.” I waved my finger at the light tan jacket he wore over a coral shirt, both of which put rose undertones in his dark complexion and made his blue eyes pop. The outfit was finished with casual jeans and Chucks, but somehow that worked perfectly.

  “Bertie asked us to fancy up a bit,” he grinned, and held his hands out to the side, then did a slow turn.

  “Very nice.”

  “You’re looking…official.” He nodded.

  “I would hope so. It’s my uniform.”

  “Sure, but Jean and Myra are changing for the crowning.”

  I just raised my eyebrows.

  He laughed. “Yeah. Bertie put her foot down. She wants a certain look for the reporter coming in to do the article about it. Something about good advertising.”

  “Everything’s about good advertising for her.”

  “Maybe not everything. Nice tat, by the way.”

  I rolled my arm, unable not to look at the ocean wolf. I loved it. More than I thought I would. “Thanks. Wolfes gave it to me.”

  “Yeah, I can tell.”

  “Delaney?” Bertie popped out of a trinket shop. She was draped in a smart, square-neckline ruby dress that flowed below her knees in an explosion of lacy gold and peach flowers. “We need to speak.”

  “Good luck,” Hogan murmured.

  “Coward,” I whispered. “Hello, Bertie. You’re looking lovely today.”

  “Yes, I am. As are you, Hogan.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “Delaney your clothing is an insult.” Those hard eyes narrowed. “Are you on duty?”

  “Everyone’s on duty during your events. You know that.”

  She slid a look toward Hogan. H
e shook his head just slightly.

  “All right,” I said, drawing out the word. “What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is the crowning at six o’clock,” she said.

  “I’ve heard about that. A lot.”

  She gave me another scathing once over. “I would prefer you in your dress uniform. Lacking that, I fully expect you to be there in a dress. You do own a dress?”

  “I’m not going to be a part of your advertising, Bertie.”

  She stilled, and her head lifted up, her shoulders went back. “Delaney Reed, you owe me a debt.”

  “Pretty sure we settled that.” I lifted my hand where the cut was quickly healing and scabbing.

  “No, that was a reminder. Of what you are to me.”

  “You don’t own me, Bertie.”

  “Thank the stars for that. Can you imagine?”

  No, I could not. I shuddered.

  “However, you owe me a debt for not turning you in for burglary.”

  A family of four squeezed past us, one of the men, with a baby strapped to his chest glanced at me, tapped his husband’s arm, and pointed at me.

  I pivoted, and moved out of the middle of the sidewalk toward the building where there was a little more privacy.

  “What do you want, Bertie? What,” I clarified with one finger raised, “favor?”

  She exhaled with so much obvious exasperation it almost made me smile.

  “Wear a bloody dress. That’s it. That’s all I ask. Put on a dress and attend the crowning ceremony. I don’t expect you to stand out from the crowd, but I want you there because I am expecting many of the tourists to have already left by that time, or be inside the restaurants for their evening meals, or down on the beach watching the sunset.”

  “You’re afraid people aren’t going to attend the closing ceremony?”

  “Of course not.”

  But there was the angle of her chin—stubborn—and the restlessness of her hands clasping and unclasping. She was worried. Worried the event wouldn’t end the way she wanted. Worried it wouldn’t bring the tourists back. Or maybe just worried she wouldn’t get featured as the main article on the local paper’s web pages.

  Or: “Is this about Robyn in Boring?”

  “That soft-claw sister of mine thinks she’s the height of class. I’ll show her Ordinary has so much class she can shove Boring right up her—”