Broomsticks and Burials

by Lily Webb

  So he was telling the truth. Good.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Mitch asked, jolting me out of his mind and back into mine. “Wait, did you do it again?”

  “Sorry, I had to be sure you weren’t lying,” I said, shrugging. Mitch sighed.

  “You’d better be careful using that around town, especially when you’re staring at them like that. It’s not exactly subtle,” Mitch said.

  “I know, I know. With great power comes great responsibility and all,” I said.

  “People’s thoughts are private for a reason,” he said. “Some might not be so kind about you jumping into their heads.”

  “So you really don’t know anything at all about this source?” I asked, getting us back on subject. Mitch shook his head.

  “The only thing I know about them is that they refused to work with Harper until she convinced them she could do so without revealing their identity to anyone for any reason — not even me, her editor,” Mitch said.

  Interesting. Why would the source be so cagey? Did they have something to hide, or were they just afraid? Given what happened to Harper, maybe they were right to be.

  “Which is all the more reason why you need to leave this alone,” Mitch said. “It’s in the hands of the police now, where it belongs.”

  “Really? Doesn’t seem like their investigation is going anywhere,” I said.

  “It’s only been two weeks, Zoe, I’m sure they’ve turned up something.”

  “Clearly not enough if they didn’t even know about this source of Harper’s,” I said, which also made me wonder why Mitch wouldn’t have told the police about the source.

  Surely the police would’ve interviewed Mitch already since he was so close to Harper, personally and professionally, and any connection of hers as shadowy as this source would’ve caught the police’s attention.

  “Why wouldn’t you tell them about the source?” I asked. Mitch frowned at me while I searched his face.

  “To protect them like journalists are supposed to do. If we got into the business of ratting out our sources, we’d never be able to convince anyone to talk to us off the record again. Besides, I don’t think Harper’s contact had anything to do with her death,” Mitch said.

  “Wait, have you or anyone else heard from them since Harper died?” I asked.

  “Not that I know of, no. But even if they did reach out to someone, I doubt they’d want that known in the first place,” Mitch said.

  “Good point. Lots to think about,” I said.

  “No, there isn’t, because you’re not going to keep chasing this, remember?” Mitch asked.

  “You said yourself that people used to hold this paper in high regard, but ever since Harper died the brand lost its luster. Don’t you want to at least try to get it back? This could be a huge story for us,” I said.

  “Or it could blow up in our faces — again,” Mitch said. “Zoe, please, drop it. Don’t make me regret hiring you.”

  “Oh, you won’t, trust me,” I said, smiling. Mitch scowled at me, but behind it I could see he admired my determination, even if he’d never admit it.

  I had to find out who Harper’s source was; everything else hinged on it. Thankfully, there were plenty of people in town who knew more about Harper and her connections than I did.

  The best people to ask about who she might’ve been talking to lately would be her family and friends — and

  luckily for me, I’d already scheduled an appointment with her Aunt Raina.

  Chapter Nine

  At sundown, I stepped out of Flora’s front door with her right on my heels.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you? I don’t want you to get lost,” Flora asked from the doorframe.

  That was the last thing I wanted. As much as I liked and trusted Flora already, if she found out I was still asking for info on Harper and her story, I couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t tell Mitch — and though I hadn’t told him I was going to stop, I also hadn’t told him I was going to keep digging.

  “I appreciate it, but no. I’m not totally hopeless when it comes to directions,” I said. “I’m just going to learn about some basic magic anyway, I bet it’ll be a boring rehash for you.”

  “I doubt that if Raina’s right about your abilities. I really don’t mind,” Flora said.

  “We can catch up after I get home. Maybe we could do dinner or something?” I suggested. Flora smiled and nodded.

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  “Good, me too. I’ll see you in a bit then,” I said and left without another word to avoid giving Flora an opportunity to stop me again. I wasn’t sure I’d be home in time for dinner, but it didn’t matter.

  As I walked through the gate and turned on Swiftsage, I reached into my pocket for the card Raina gave me. Flora showed me Raina’s house on a map based on the address on the card and it seemed Moonbeam Lane wasn’t far from Veilside.

  When I reached Crescent Street, I turned right and followed it two blocks north toward the academy. I took a left on Moonbeam Lane and found dozens of small brick cottage-style houses covered in ivy and all kinds of other vegetation.

  A pair of yellow lamplight eyes peered out at me through the growing darkness in the nearest home’s garden, and a crashing sound echoed along the narrow lane as a cat dashed out of the tangle of growth and ran in front of my feet.

  Okay, the place was kind of creepy. Coupled with what I already knew about how intense Raina was, I was more than a little anxious. After taking a deep breath, I pressed on down the lane until I reached the third house on the left, which Flora told me must be the one.

  Sure enough, a silver number three hung on the front door that was dimly lit by a flashing overhead light — and occupied by the same cat that’d almost scared the life out of me.

  It was a beautifully striped, fluffy tabby with a big poofy tail and striped face that made it look like it was smiling.

  “Hey there, little cutie,” I said as I approached, holding out a hand to show the cat I wasn’t a threat. It growled at me, deep and long, and I yanked my hand back. So much for smiling.

  “Tierney, behave, Zoe’s no threat to you,” a voice said, and I looked up to find Raina standing in the doorframe wearing a smirk and the same crescent moon pendant she’d worn the first time I met her.

  The cat must’ve been hers, maybe her familiar — though I still didn’t really know what that was. Tierney grunted and ran through Raina’s black robes inside.

  “Is she always so moody?” I asked.

  “Only with new visitors,” Raina said. “But don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll warm up to you soon enough. Please, come in.” She stepped aside, and I felt immediately relieved when I entered.

  Raina’s house was like an adorable old cottage in the forest. Knotted wooden flooring ran into a massive brick hearth in the center of the house where a crackling fire cast the room in soft orange light. Ancient books lined the mantel, many of them in languages and symbols I couldn’t understand, and a faint scent of clove hung in the air.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said as Raina closed the door behind me.

  “Thank you,” she said. Her robes swished as she passed me, heading for the larger of two wooden rocking chairs by the fire.

  “Would you like anything to drink? Tea, perhaps? I have a special blend that stimulates magical efficacy.”

  “I could use all the stimulation possible,” I said.

  “Perfect,” Raina said and pulled her wand out of her robes to wave it at the kitchen, which sprung to life.

  One of the cabinets above the sink opened and two mugs floated out along with a tea steeper and a clear canister of herbs. The tea steeper guided itself under the water tap and filled up before the herbs poured themselves into the water.

  “Calfacio!” Raina said, flicking her wand upward. The water in the steeper bubbled with heat, and I watched it all with an open mouth. Seconds later, the steeper poured its contents into the mugs, and
they drifted through the air into our hands.

  “Am I gonna learn how to do that someday?” I asked, staring down at the mug as steam curled from its surface. Raina smirked.

  “Someday, I’m sure. Please, join me, we have much to discuss,” Raina said as she sank into the larger rocking chair and gestured to the other. I sat across from her and rocked gently while I took in the surroundings — I couldn’t take my eyes off the books in particular.

  “Those symbols on the books are runes. We’ll get to them at some point,” Raina said as if she’d read my mind. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who could do that.

  “Raina, thank you so much for helping me. I don’t know a lick about, well, anything magical,” I said.

  “Obviously,” Raina said, her smile defanging the comment. “Zoe, do you know anything about your family’s history? Anything at all?”

  “Not really, no. My parents died in a car crash when I was a toddler, and my Grandma Eleanor raised me after that,” I said.

  “Has your grandmother ever shown any signs of magical ability?” Raina asked.

  “The only kind of magic she knows how to work is on a farm,” I said.

  “Interesting. Tragic, yet interesting,” Raina said, her smile curling downward into a frown, which accentuated her wrinkles.

  “Why’s that?” I asked. Did Raina know something about me I didn’t?

  “Well, I had a hunch, but alas, another time… Tell me, have you ever experienced anything strange or magical before you came here?”

  “Not that I can remember. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to tell you I have some weird memory I can’t explain, but I don’t,” I said. “My life has been pretty normal.”

  “Until now,” Raina said, her smile returning.

  “You’ve got that right.”

  “You seem to be adjusting well, all things considered,” Raina said.

  “I had to. This place isn’t like any other I’ve ever seen.”

  “For better or worse?” Raina asked.

  “Jury’s still out,” I said, and Raina chuckled.

  “That wit will serve you well in Moon Grove,” she said. “Please, drink your tea before it cools. It will help you with your exercises.”

  “Exercises?” I asked though I sipped the tea anyway. It tasted vaguely of mint and other earthy flavors, but it wasn’t bad.

  “My dear, why do you think I invited you here?” Raina asked. “Surely you didn’t think we’d sit by the fireside talking like old friends all evening?”

  “No, of course not,” I said and took another sip of the tea, though I did intend to ask Raina about Harper when the moment was right. A slight fog settled in my mind from the drink, but a pleasant kind. It made me happy.

  “Good. Then let’s begin,” Raina said. She waved her wand at the row of books on the mantle, and one fluttered down into my lap. The Origins of Witchcraft, its faded gold title read.

  “I’ll expect you to read some of that before our next meeting, but for now, let’s look at the basics.”

  She flicked her wand, and the book tumbled open to

  a list of the five primary categories of witchcraft: Kinesis, Aether, Transmutation, Divination, and Alchemy.

  “I know what some of these words mean, so I guess that’s a start,” I said. Raina chuckled.

  “As you can see, there are five main branches of witchcraft. Every witch can use magic from all five, but most tend to show strengths in one or two areas in particular. Can you guess which category that might be for you?” Raina asked.

  “Kinesis?”

  “Well done,” Raina said, smiling. “For those with a set of talents like yours, their powers usually manifest as telepathy first, which seems to be the case for you as well — but that’s not the only power you’ll be able to harness. Read on.”

  I glanced back down at the book and used my finger to follow along as I read. In addition to telepathy, there were other abilities listed, some of which I knew and others I’d never heard of before: telekinesis, pyrokinesis, geokinesis, chronokinesis, and a dozen or so more.

  “What do these mean?” I asked.

  “They mean you are a very special witch, indeed, Zoe,” Raina said.

  “Wait, pyrokinesis… Does that mean fire? Like what you did to that attack ad poster that glommed onto me a couple days ago?” I asked.

  “Close, but not quite. Pyrokinesis is the ability to create and wield fire, as well as manipulate existing ones,” Raina said.

  “How on Earth am I going to learn all this? I feel like I’m, well, twenty-one years behind everyone else,” I groaned.

  “Don’t worry. With my help, and with your raw potential, you’ll be as good or better than everyone else in no time,” Raina said. “That said, I think it might be prudent if we challenged you to see what you’re truly capable of accomplishing.”

  “My telepathy, you mean?”

  “Yes, among other things. I should think in your line of work those abilities might be quite handy,” Raina said, her eyes twinkling.

  Not for the first time, I wondered if Raina had taken an interest in me not for my alleged potential, but because of what I already had — and how it might help her figure out Harper’s death.

  “They already have. Speaking of, I’ve been meaning to ask you about, uh, your niece,” I said. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to say her name in front of Raina. She smiled and nodded.

  “I expected as much,” Raina said. “I’ll answer any questions you might have after the session. For now, let’s stay on track.”

  “Sure,” I said, though my heart skipped a beat at her promise. Raina could be the perfect person to talk to; as Headmistress of one of the world’s leading magical academies, she had to know a lot of things about a lot of people — including Harper.

  “I’d like for you to close your eyes, calm your mind, and focus. Feel the effects of the tea,” Raina said. I straightened up in the rocking chair and closed my eyes, letting the crackling of the fire fill my ears and carry away all the thoughts buzzing in my head.

  “I’m going to set my mug down here on the coffee table. When you’re ready, I want you to reach for it with your mind. Visualize it in your head and reach for it,” Raina said.

  With my eyes still closed, I heard the porcelain clink against the coffee table, and the sound snapped a clear image of the mug into my mind.

  “I see it, so vividly,” I said. It looked almost more real in my head than it did to my eyes.

  “Good. Stay focused. Notice its details, each nook and cranny; the subtle curve of its handle,” Raina said. As she spoke the words, what she described flashed in my mind. “Now, try to grab it.”

  “Grab it? How?” I asked.

  “Imagine an invisible hand reaching out from you to the mug,” Raina said. “Picture its fingers spreading wide as the hand opens to take hold of it.” I did, and Raina gasped.

  “What?”

  “You’ve done it. Zoe, you’re holding the mug,” Raina said.

  “I am? I don’t see anything different,” I said, my eyes closed. In my vision, the mug still sat on the coffee table, undisturbed.

  “You are. Now, imagine that same invisible hand pulling the mug back to you,” Raina said. A beat after I did, Raina chuckled gleefully. “Look.”

  My eyes fluttered open to find Raina’s mug floating in midair just a few inches from my face. I couldn’t find words to describe what I saw — or what I’d done — but it was incredible. Was that really my magic at work? Or was Raina helping me to make me feel better about myself?

  A knock on the door made me jump, and the mug crashed to the floor in front of me where it shattered into a dozen pieces.

  “Oh Lord, I’m so sorry, I’ll clean it up, I—” I started as I jumped from the rocker, sending The Origins of Witchcraft toppling to the floor, but Raina held a hand up to silence me. She flicked her wand, and the pieces of the mug put themselves back together like a puzzle before flying up into her hands.


  “No need to apologize, dear. You’re learning, accidents are expected. Visitors, however…” Raina trailed off as she stood from her chair and walked to the door.

  I sat waiting, unsure of what else to do, my mind still buzzing with excitement.

  I’d actually moved a mug with my mind. Or I was going crazy. Either explanation worked.

  “My, my, how serendipitous,” Raina’s voice echoed from the front door as she opened it.

  I turned in my seat to find another witch standing on the porch in deep emerald green robes. If she hadn’t had such a friendly face, she could’ve been Raina’s twin. She wore her auburn hair in the same style of bun Raina did, though it wasn’t nearly as tight or tidy, and they were almost the same height.

  “Zoe, dear, this is my elder sister, Circe,” Raina said, waving me over.

  She didn’t have to ask me twice; if Circe was her sister, that meant she was also Harper’s mother and one of the Council members. I stood and raced Tierney the cat to the front door. She won and bounded up into Circe’s arms.

  “Tierney has always liked Circe more than me,” Raina sighed.

  “With your warm personality, I can’t fathom why,” Circe said, and Raina glared at her. Though Circe smiled at me, I saw a hint of sadness in the corners of her eyes. How couldn’t she be sad? Her daughter was murdered and not even she, a Council member, had been able to protect her.

  “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Zoe Clarke,” I said, and Circe’s eyes widened.

  “Yes, you’re the new Messenger reporter who was at the Council meeting, aren’t you?” she asked. I nodded.

  “I could never forget that hair of yours, it’s stunning; like live fire the way the light catches it. It reminds me of Harper’s.”

  “Thank you,” I said, glancing down at the floor with my cheeks burning.

  “Sister, have you taken on a secret protégé?” Circe asked, eyeing me.

  “Of sorts,” Raina said with a smirk. “What brings you by tonight?”

  “Oh, nothing in particular. My lonely soul is in need of company again, though it seems I’ve been given more than I anticipated,” Circe said. “Should I come back later?”