Spirit Box

by E M Lacey

  Aurora used her right index finger and thumb to pluck the necklace from the palm of her hand. She held it up, using the light from the warding to inspect it. It was as beautiful as the song used to create it. A rune etched inside a perfect silver circle was for protection. That’s what Sunni told her but was it really? Was it truly meant to protect the others from her?

  Aurora let go of the necklace, letting it fall into her shirt. It settled between her breasts. The silver was very cold against her skin and the magic imbued in it was a tad irritating. She wanted to scratch but forced herself to focus on the computer screen. She ran her finger across the mouse. Data scrolled across the screen. She was looking for human cases that were similar to Alba’s; the second layer of the project was cross-referencing immortality myths, rituals, and rites.

  After a few minutes of beating on the keyboard and not really reading the data onscreen, her attention drifted back to her predicament. Though Mr. Myer did his best to make her feel less like a suspect, she knew it wasn’t true. In fact, she was amazed she hadn’t been chained and carted off to some magical dungeon after the craziness with the spirit box. She understood how conclusions could paint her a villain. All the destruction outside the safe room happening on the day she was set to start. All of it caused by the box. Then to have the contents of that same box break out to protect her. Too many interlocking coincidences made the lie feel true, even to Aurora, and she knew she didn’t do it.

  Pyra and Sunni added extra protections to the interior of the safe room before they settled into the work of pretending that what happened hadn’t happened. The initial warding was set to keep things from getting in, but there was no spell in place to keep someone from pulling things out, which was how Enoch managed to get her. If he figured it out, then it wouldn’t be long before others did.

  Sunni forced everyone out and put a hold on the investigation using the Immortalem’s authority. No one really complained. They seemed relieved.

  Sunni used the metallic hum of her staff to cover the conversation between herself and Pyra. Once duty called Sunni from the office, Pyra would take over as lead. She would manage the purification rites which were on hold until the replacement sorcerer arrived from Wisconsin. Lucky for them, their situation allowed all the legalities, both magical and human, to be pushed aside.

  Their conversation was pretty intense, but occasionally either Sunni or Pyra would discretely cast a quick glance in her direction. It was funny. Aurora initially anticipated the action based on their body language but it wasn’t really that. She sensed the shift in their attention. It allowed her to synchronize her own movements with theirs. She looked away seconds before Sunni or Pyra’s gaze landed on her.

  She observed the pair who looked to be closing up their conversation. Aurora looked down, grabbed the ink pen she used to jot down notes, and began writing. Pyra’s shadow fell across her desk.

  “You really don’t have anything to worry about, Aurora.”

  Her grip tightened on the pen before looking up.

  Pyra’s neutral gaze studied her face. “It’s agreed that whatever your power is, it’s tied to the box.”

  “But I didn’t…”

  Pyra held up her hand. Aurora stopped, another explanation already on her tongue.

  “We know you didn’t.”

  Aurora found herself studying her hands. “How?”

  “You came straight from the airport this morning.”

  Aurora pushed away from the desk, leaning back in her chair. Pyra offered a conciliatory smile.

  “It was easy to verify. You took an Uber from Midway to the office. Your suitcases are downstairs and you are due to meet your new landlord,” she looked at her watch, “in about four hours when you take your lunch break.” Pyra let her hand fall back to her side.

  “Oh crap!” Aurora fished for her cellphone.

  “Stop.”

  “But I have to.” Aurora unlocked her phone within seconds and was already scrolling through her contacts.

  “No, you don’t. Mr. Myer contacted your landlord and informed him that you would be moving into your new place next week.”

  Aurora looked for Mr. Myer inside the safe room. He had moved out of sight a while ago. She didn’t think much of it.

  “You will be under Sunni’s care until you move into your apartment.” Pyra lay her hand on her chest. “I will ward it myself and will lay perimeter protections on the grounds.”

  “Thank you.”

  Pyra moved around the desk and dropped to her knees beside Aurora’s chair. “I’m sorry for being so suspicious. This whole thing is all kinds of weird and is like nothing I’ve ever dealt with in the four centuries of my existence.”

  “Four centuries?”

  Pyra nodded, her sandy blond ponytail swayed. “You have nothing to fear from me or the Immortalem. Our goal is to protect those who can’t protect themselves from our kind.” Her lovely face darkened. “What Enoch did was unacceptable.”

  Aurora’s heart rate ticked up at the mention of his name.

  Pyra’s eyes vanished and the color of her magic filled them. It was a beautiful amber. She grabbed Aurora’s hands. “My magic will be your shield as long as I share a space with you.”

  Sunni appeared on the other side of her desk and lay her hand on Aurora’s left shoulder.

  “Calm yourself, Aurora.”

  A sense of tranquility washed over her. “What’s wrong?” Aurora’s gaze darted between them.

  “Your fear is disturbing the box.” Sunni turned her amethyst gaze on her.

  Aurora took a few shaky breaths, setting her mind on the small victory she had achieved. She still had her job, Enoch was dead, she had a pretty fierce sorceress declare herself a living shield. Aurora’s fear abated. Pyra and Sunni removed their hands.

  “The box is quiet.” Sunni’s relief coated her words as her magic faded and her eyes returned to normal. She got to her feet.

  “Why did your eyes do that?”

  “It happens when there is a magical disturbance,” Sunni began. “Like the awakening of a witch, the discovery of a powerful artifact, or a power surge.” She pointed in the direction of the office where the box rested.

  “Did you feel my power when the box started to open?”

  Pyra and Sunni shook their heads. “Actually, no, just the box.”

  Aurora frowned. She had a power, but why didn’t it register? Before she could thoroughly worry the thought, Sunni’s and Pyra’s eyes flared with magic again.

  Pyra grabbed Sunni’s forearm. “That’s strong.”

  Sunni frowned. “This is bad.”

  “What?” Aurora’s gaze darted between the sorceresses.

  “Let the magic settle,” Sunni instructed Pyra. “Do you sense its location?”

  “By the gods.” Pyra’s words were reverent. “Keeper’s Cove.”

  “Yes.” Sunni motioned for Aurora to follow her.

  “What?” Aurora raised from her chair. Muscles tense, ready to run. She had no idea where to, but she would get the hell out of the safe room, which wasn’t feeling so safe. “What’s at Keeper’s Cove?”

  Sunni place both hands on Aurora’s shoulders. “Remember when I told you why my eyes glow amethyst?”

  Aurora shook her head. “There’s been so much drama I can barely remember which freaky event was what.”

  “An awakening of a witch triggers Sisters of the Immortalem.”

  “Oh.” Aurora let herself drop back into her chair.

  “What type of magic did you feel?” Aurora lay her arms on the desk, folding them as if preparing to lay her head on them.

  Sunni grabbed her staff, which was propped against Aurora’s desk and started toward the safe room entrance. She called for Montague. He came running.

  “Oh my.” Pyra rose slowly, hands rising to cover her mouth. “It’s like mine but natural.”

  “Yes.” Sunni activated her staff and aimed it at the south wall. A fissure of light cracked the surfac
e. “A fire witch has awakened.”

  “Is that bad?” Montague asked. He’d clutched his messenger bag and was drumming his fingers along the zipper.

  “The Cove itself will fight against this new witch.” Sunni made circular motions with the tip of her staff. The fissure spread, forming a large doorway. Amethyst light filled it. “This new natural witch is going to instinctually defend herself, which means the measure launched against her will be returned.”

  “She will be aggressive.” Montague’s drumming fingers stopped.

  Sunni gave a sharp shake of her head. “This witch is going to be lethal, once the matriarch of Keeper’s Cove pisses her off.”

  “Do you know this new witch?” Montague pressed.

  “Actually, you know her well.”

  Montague’s confusion washed across his face. “What do you mean?”

  “Abigail Biggs.”

  “Abby?” Montague whispered; his bag fell to the floor. He did not notice.

  Sunni looked past Montague to Pyra. “I need you to guard this place. Use whatever is required to keep it safe.”

  Pyra pulled into a military stance. “As it is requested, so it shall be done.”

  “Thank you, sister.”

  She pointed to Aurora and gestured for her to join her.

  Aurora poked her own chest with her index finger and mouthed the word, “Me?”

  Sunni nodded her head slowly.

  Aurora dragged herself up from the comfort of her chair and went to join Sunni and Mr. Myer. She wondered what Abigail would be like now that magic was involved. Abigail was a bit shy and not all that socially adept but okay in Aurora’s book. Would magic make her a monster?

  Sunni waited for Aurora to join her before going over the rules of the magic she was about to call. “Rules of traveling through portholes are you must hold the name of the destination in your mind. If you have to, hold hands with the creator of the porthole.” Sunni held out her hand. Aurora took hold. Montague picked up his messenger bag, tossed the strap over his shoulder, then grabbed Aurora’s hand. “Even with my hand, I need you to keep the name of the place we are going at the center of your mind. Keeper’s Cove.”

  Both Aurora and Montague muttered their agreement. Sunni stepped into the porthole. Aurora and Montague followed.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Bridgette, stop!” McKellen untangled himself from the mountain of books. “She’s a friend!” He managed to get to his feet. He checked on Julius, who was nearly free of the coat rack and chair. He was currently working his leg out of the chair. Satisfied that his partner was unharmed, he focused on the crazy witch in front of him.

  A huge orange red dome filled the other side of the room. There were cracks in it, but it held. Somewhere underneath it was Abigail.

  “Why are you doing this, Bridgette?” McKellen tried applying reason. “Abigail has done you no harm.”

  “She will,” Bridgette hissed. There was a bit of an accent to her words that wasn’t there before.

  “Bridgette, please back off and tell me what’s wrong.”

  Bridgette spun on him, onyx eyes glistening in the light. Her face was different. Smoother. Younger. Her hair was gaining color. A deep brown.

  “My name isn’t Bridgette. It’s Cora!”

  A loud crash of the coat rack Julius tossed off him drew both Bridgette’s and McKellen’s attention.

  “What do you mean your name is Cora?” Julius rose unsteadily to his feet.

  “I am the guardian of this place,” Cora said as Bridgette’s hair continued to darken.

  McKellen examined her face, limbs, and skin, all of which had smoothed to a youthful texture. Bridgette tended to favor her right wrist when she cast. It wasn’t present. She moved fluidly. Besides, pulling the amount of power she was using at the moment would have put the average witch in a coma once she released it.

  Magic exacted a price. It burned through the body, wearing it down. Recovery and healing were always possible, but in a battle, a witch could die. At least, a studied witch. This Cora was wielding magic like a natural witch. Natural witches had magic in their blood and bones. It came when called. It needed no proxy. A deadly dog awaiting its master’s command.

  “Why are you trying to hurt Abigail?” Julius approached; arms outstretched in surrender. A rush of cool wind passed through the waiting area. A bright amethyst light flared in the space between Bridgette and Abigail’s protective dome.

  “Abigail’s a fire witch.” Sunni stepped out of the porthole with Aurora and Montague in tow.

  “A lot of witches work elemental magic. Abigail’s no threat,” Julius said.

  “Yes, there are many witches who use elemental magic, but it’s learned magic, not natural magic.”

  Julius’ mouth fell open as understanding dawned. Abigail was rare. Once her powers were validated, she would be the third to be added to the Immortalem’s registry in nearly a century.

  Montague went over to the red-orange dome, keeping a reasonable distance between himself and its heat. His fingers twitched, curiosity begging him to touch it, but childhood training kept him from carrying through. Fire is hot and it burns.

  Someone banged on the front door.

  “Enter,” Sunni called out, her eyes still locked on a rapidly changing Bridgette.

  Thurgood entered the room, stopping instantly to stare at the large red-orange dome. “Abigail?”

  Montague stared at his partner. “How do you know that’s Abigail?”

  Thurgood said nothing, choosing that moment to obsess over the scene in front of them.

  “He’s been keeping secrets,” Cora said, with a smug look on her face.

  “And so have you.” Sunni placed herself between Abigail and Cora. “Greetings, Cora, guardian of Keeper’s Cove.”

  Cora bowed. “Greetings, emissary of the Immortalem.” Light engulfed her body, exposing only the shadowed form of Bridgette. It shrank rapidly, settling into the prepubescent body of an eight-year-old when the light died.

  A little girl in a yellow peasant dress watched them all. Her eyes were the same maple brown as her hair. The girl stood barefoot in the archway opposite the foyer.

  “Can we reason together regarding this young witch?” Sunni waved her hand at the dome.

  “We don’t like fire witches. They are not allowed here.” Her voice regressed into a childish lilt.

  “What is this?” Thurgood whispered reverently.

  Sunni raised her hand and curled it into a fist. Thurgood quieted and so did the others.

  Sunni’s eyes narrowed as she leaned forward, her staff bearing both her weight and magic pooling at its base, tucked inside the hollow core, ready to launch should this strange meeting take another step into the obscure.

  “Why don’t you like this fire witch?” Sunni attempted to reason with Cora.

  Cora’s maple brown eyes roamed the interior of the library, then stopped their roaming to settle on Sunni. “A fire witch nearly destroyed all of this.” Cora’s arms shot out, waving at the circumference of the room. “We lost soooo much.” Her voice moistened, wavering between a sob and a whisper, as her already pale face grew even paler. Her nostrils flared, scenting a fire only alive in her memory.

  Sunni held out her palm, shifting her staff but not dropping her magic. “Your loss was great. I understand, but why attack a friend? Abigail’s magic was not active. She could not do damage to the Cove.”

  Cora looked pointedly at the Book of Testing. Her gaze cut to Sunni, who moved cautiously toward the grimoire laying on the floor next to a toppled red wrought-iron chair

  “She was waking.” Cora aimed an accusing finger at the red-orange dome. “When I entered the foyer, she was holding a fireball in her hand.”

  “What?” Thurgood exclaimed.

  Cora ignored him. “The vampire, Adiran, used a fire witch when he came here. He nearly destroyed Keeper’s Cove!” Cora scowled at Sunni, as if she were responsible.

  Sunni felt Montag
ue stiffen behind her and slide a hand into his right pocket. There was a modest bulge there, a crucifix. A quick shake of her head and Montague removed his hand from his pocket, pat it, then took a step back.

  Cora glared at Sunni, eyes onyx, spindles of magic danced inside. “You know what their fire can do.”

  “Yes, I do. Theirs is the only fire that can burn through spells, expose and destroy portholes, and grimoires.”

  “You see why I don’t want her here!” Cora aimed an accusing finger at the dome behind Sunni.

  “Now, see here!” Thurgood roared, pushing forward, stopping at Sunni’s shoulder. She wouldn’t let him pass. “My niece has done nothing to you!”

  “But her mother did.” Cora bared her teeth at him. She dragged the words and let them sit.

  Thurgood jerked as if her words were fists. “My sister… she was killed with the rest of my family.”

  Cora flashed her teeth at him, more of a snarl than a smile. “She did die eventually. A turf war of sorts claimed her life, but before that, your sister was Adiran’s thrall.” Her hands curled into fists and seemed glued to her sides as she surged forward. Sunni slid her staff subtly forward as well, the waiting magic forming an oblong circle.

  Cora looked down at magic the humans could not see, head tilting curiously when she caught Thurgood’s eyes rise from the floor to meet hers at the same time. Could he see it too? The brilliant silver symbols emblazoned in the amethyst light of Sunni’s spell?

  “Sins of the father, or mother, in this case are not the sins of the daughter.” Montague stood on Sunni’s left side. He glanced over at Thurgood, promising a more serious discussion at a later time. It flickered on his face and died once he faced the thing housed in Bridgette’s body.

  Cora threw her head back and laughed from the gut. “You clergymen are funny. You hang up your robes, but the essence of your teachings take root in your soul.”

  “Let Abigail go and we can reason together.” Sunni disengaged the outer layer of her shield. It pooled to the ground, ready to use should Cora prove disagreeable.

  Cora folded her hands across her chest.