Witches & Stitches

by Beverly Sanders

  “He’s gone,” Pascal muttered, looking me up and down. “You both look fabulous, but why is everyone so dressed up?”

  “We were at a club,” I answered. “Where were you?”

  “Enchanted Lake,” he replied, his clothing immediately morphing into an outlandishly stylish suit. “I was taking care of a few things. I knew you’d be fine with Nicco. Though it looks like I made it here just in time.”

  “Do we know who he is?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid not.” Pascal ironed out the front of his suit with his hands. “Your father and the rest of the Council are looking into it. The only thing we know is that the magic he used is old, very old.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “We’re not sure yet. Usually, though, the older the magic, the more dangerous and powerful it is.”

  “Awesome . . .” I deadpanned. “Just what I need.”

  I slept in a little the next morning . . .

  “Finally!” Babbs said as I stepped into the living room to find her squeezing fresh orange juice.

  “What?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to wake up for like ten minutes or something.” She sighed, fighting her way through the fruit’s thick peel.

  “Do you need something?” I asked.

  “Just for you to see this!” She tossed an iPad my way.

  Barely catching it before it hit the ground, I unlocked the screen and was met with the strangest thing. It was a photo of me, and not just any photo but one taken the night before, seemingly in the middle of my dance with Nicco. His arms were wrapped tightly around my body and a big smile was painted across my face. To the world, it must have looked like we were in love, and for him, at least, that was true.

  “Read the headline!” Babbs said, tracing her finger across the top of the screen.

  “Hot New Fashion Designer Eyes a Big Win. But Who’s Eyeing Her?” I read the words aloud. “What are they talking about?”

  “They’re talking about you,” Babbs snapped back. “Didn’t you see? They called you the hot new fashion designer.”

  “Yeah.” I stared down at the screen. “I got that. I meant the other part. About who’s eyeing me?”

  “Oh.” She bobbed her head. “They’re talking about Nicco. But I mean, can you blame them? He looked like every woman’s walking dream last night.”

  “I guess not . . .” My voice trailed off.

  There was something about it that pulled me back a little, something about seeing Nicco referred to in that way, being objectified. Something welled up inside me, something I wasn’t used to. Was it anger? Jealousy? Maybe a mix of both. I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that I didn’t like it.

  “Why do they care about Nicco?” I asked.

  “Because he’s hot. And for a lot of people, that’s reason enough to take notice. Besides, you’re making waves. It’s only natural that people would be curious about your situation.”

  “I guess so . . .” I muttered. “I suppose I hadn’t really thought about it like that.”

  “Better get used to it,” Babbs answered, sliding a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice my way.

  6

  “What does it look like?” Babbs asked. “I mean, I’ve pictured it in my mind for a long time, and almost every time, it looks like the Wonka factory. Is that right? Is it like the Wonka factory?”

  “What’s the Wonka factory?” I asked, a little unfamiliar with the name.

  “We have to get you caught up on Pop Culture!” she snapped.

  The truth was that I had no idea how my best friend would view Enchanted Lake. The whole place had a mind of its own. Sure, I know how it looked to me, but that meant nothing for Babbs, or anyone else, either. Since the entire town existed in a realm born of the purest and oldest magic, it had no real physical form.

  What one day may look like a mountain could look like an ocean the next day. In the mortal realm, the sky was always blue. It was constant, it was comfortable, and if I was being honest, maybe a little boring. Not back home though. I’d seen the sky turn every color a person could imagine. I’d seen it look as if it were a million miles away and I’d seen it look as though it were closing in on me by the second.

  My father had always taught me that much of what we saw had to do with our emotions. If we were happy, our world was bright. If we were troubled, it may look dangerous. Enchanted Lake took on the emotions of its inhabitants, which for me meant it looked rather plain. I’d always been able to see the mortal realm in the distance, shimmering and bright, calling out to me. But that was just me.

  “Are you ready?” I asked Babbs as we stood at a secluded edge of lake Oconee, one of Georgia’s most popular and picturesque lakes. In addition to being a hotspot for things like fishing and camping, it also acted as the doorway to the magical realm. During my younger days, it always struck me as odd that our home required an actual physical doorway, but the older I got, the more I understood.

  If people were able to just pop in and out from anywhere, it would present less of a challenge. It would make it less special and it would make it a bit too easy to leave or return. The life of a witch is a special thing. It should require more than just the snap of a finger, which is why exiting the magical realm was even more complicated than entering it. But that was a worry for another time.

  “Of course!” Babbs answered. “I always knew a place like this existed. I could feel it!”

  I believed her. I’d never seen a mortal more drawn to and able to sense magic than Babbs Mcghee. She was like one of those police dogs I’d seen on television, the ones that were just somehow able to sniff out drugs and bombs.

  “What?” I asked, noticing her eyes welling up.

  “Oh.” She smiled. “Nothing.”

  “What?”

  “It’s just . . .” She wiped her eye. “You don’t know what it’s like. To have lived your life feeling like there was a piece of you missing, like there was a whole other world you belonged in that you had no idea how to find. And now here I am. I can feel it. I can feel the magic calling to me, Ginni. It’s amazing.”

  “I get it.”

  And I did. I’d spent my entire life seeking out the world Babbs took for granted, the one where you worked for things, the one where you made things with your hands, where you felt a sense of accomplishment and pride for your achievements. Don’t get me wrong. Magic had its bright parts too, and yes, after mastering a particular spell or incantation, I felt a sense of pride. But the truth was, magic was just never that difficult, at least not for me.

  I’d spent my life looking for a challenge, trying so desperately to seek out the thing that made me unique. And I’d found it. Granted, some people might think sewing a dress together and watching it walk down a runway or seeing it pass you on the street was a simple thing. Not to me, though. To me, it was something else entirely. Fashion inspires, and I wanted to be the girl behind the inspiration.

  “So . . .” she asked, looking down at the rippling water. “How does it work? Do we just swim?”

  “We wait,” I answered. “The doorway opens just before the sun sets. It’s the reflection of light bending across the water that creates the bridge. Once it appears, we cross.”

  “Wow.” She looked up at the sky. “That should be happening soon.”

  “About twenty minutes,” I answered. “Until then, try and calm your nerves. You should go in calm the first time.”

  My best friend and I spent the next few minutes sitting near the edge of the water, talking about nothing and everything all at once. In the distance a little way behind me, I felt Nicco. He was watching me. I couldn’t see him but I knew he was there. I wondered if he would come with me to Enchanted Lake, though something told me he wouldn’t.

  Leaving behind his family, his pack to follow me wasn’t something that went over well with the Lycanthrope community. They’d wanted him to stay, to find a way to break the magical imprint that bound him to me, but he refused. N
ow, like me, he was an outcast. Sometimes late at night, when the moon was high in the sky, I could feel his pain. He missed his family. He missed our home. But his love for me was stronger than any of that, and to him, it was worth the price he’d paid.

  Yes, from time to time, I felt guilty about it, and if I could have, I would have reversed the imprint. But that was a different kind of magic, one far beyond my abilities. Besides, the only time I’d ever heard of it being attempted, it had ended in disaster, and I didn’t want that for Nicco. He was too good, too strong and too pure. He deserved better, and in all likelihood, he deserved better than me.

  “All right,” I said as the sun began setting in the sky. “Here it comes.”

  I placed my right foot in the water, watching it swirl around me faster and faster. “Come on,” I said, looking back to Babbs.

  “I . . . I can’t,” she replied. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready.”

  “Babbs!” I said. “We’ll miss the window! Hurry!”

  “It’s too much.” Her eyes began to well up again. “I don’t know what I’ll find there. What if . . . I’m scared, Ginni.”

  I could see the pain and fear in her eyes. I could hear the hesitation in her voice and I understood it completely. Babbs had spent her whole life dreaming of this place, never quite knowing if it were real. She could wield magic, cast spells, and sense things no other mortal could, all the while never knowing why. What if stepping into this realm revealed a truth she wasn’t ready for? What if she found something dark, something more dangerous than she could handle?

  “I’ll stay with her,” Nicco said, stepping out from the shadows. “I’ll keep her safe.”

  “Thank you,” I said, placing my other foot in the water. “I love you, girl.”

  “You too, babe.” She smiled, a river of tears running down her face.

  One heck of a ride later . . .

  I didn’t know why my father requested that I come to Enchanted Lake, but I was glad to be home for the first time in such a long time. I’d missed this place terribly, though until that moment, I hadn’t really admitted that to myself. The sky was a bright yellow, with long streaks of blue and green. It looked like a gorgeous watercolor painting, one beautiful enough to stop me in my tracks almost as soon as I stepped through the portal.

  “Well . . .” a snide voice said. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

  I’d know that voice anywhere. Cally Whiterock and I used to be best friends, but the moment I decided to leave Enchanted Lake behind was the moment she turned her back on me. She hated me for leaving her behind, for bailing out on the plans we’d made to live the rest of our lives like one magical adventure. She had a love of fashion too, one maybe even bigger than mine. It was the mortal realm thing that threw her off.

  She didn’t want to leave, ever. But her situation was different than mine in a few ways, ones that I felt had a lot to do with the choices she’d made. Losing my mother early took its toll on me. Everyone knew that. But luckily, my father had a position of power in the community, which afforded me a few magical luxuries Cally just didn’t have access to.

  You see, magic kind of works in tiers, and Cally’s family was a lot nearer to the bottom of the totem pole. Not that it ever mattered to me. I couldn’t have cared less about things like that. But to Cally, it meant a lot. She said the only reason I got away with leaving was due to my father’s position. In actuality, that was the furthest thing from the truth. Her words really hurt me, cutting deeper than any spell could.

  Don’t get me wrong. I once loved the girl. She was my best friend, or at least I thought she was. Now, though, she was nothing more than someone I used to know. I couldn’t help it. I mean, what kind of friend turns their back on you for following your dreams? Shouldn’t she be proud? Shouldn’t she have supported me? I would have done it for her, I can tell you that.

  “Cally,” I said, not turning around. “Stands to reason you’d be the first person I’d meet today.”

  “Do I sense sarcasm in your voice, old friend?”

  “I hope so,” I answered. “I laid it on pretty thick. What do you want?”

  “Just to say how proud I am of you.” An equal amount of sarcasm dripped from her words. “I mean, who would have thought that my former best friend would be the face of a witch revolution?”

  “Damn,” I muttered to myself. I’d forgotten about the whole revolution thing.

  “What’s the matter, dear? Didn’t anyone tell you about how your success has caused such a groundswell here in little realm? Why, you’ve proven what no one thought possible. You’ve proven a witch can live without magic.”

  “It wasn’t my intention.”

  “Really?” She stepped around, her long thin frame coming into focus just a few feet in front of me. “Intentions so rarely affect reality.”

  “If you’ll excuse me,” I said, brushing past her. “I’m supposed to meet with my father and the rest of the Council.”

  “I’m surprised to hear Davven is even still on the Council.” She gave a wicked smile then turned away. “Though I’m sure it won’t last much longer.”

  I don’t know why, but hearing Cally say my father’s name like that just rubbed me wrong. There was just something in her words, something about how she spoke and the glimmer in her eyes when she did. I wanted to turn around, to throw a hex her way, but I bit my tongue, keeping my hands firmly pressed in my pockets. She wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth my time or my anger.

  “Just chill,” I said, walking toward the large tower that loomed high in Enchanted Lakes City Center. Even though my father had been a member of the magic council for as long as I could remember, I’d only ever set foot in the tower a small handful of times. Not that I had any business in there in the first place. For the most part, witches go their whole lives without entering that place. Unless, of course, they’re guilty of some crime.

  For me, though, it was just because I wanted to stay with my father. I’d grown so attached to him in my childhood after what happened with my mother and sister, though I tried not to think about that too much.

  “Patentibus!” I plucked a small piece of grass from the ground and placed it on the door. A second later, I was transported to the top of the tower. There I stood in the middle of a grand room surrounded by my father and the other members of the magical council.

  “Hello.” I swallowed hard.

  7

  I wasn’t sure what they wanted or why I was being called here, other than maybe they had a lead on the warlock who killed Elle. Besides, there was no way I was in any kind of trouble. I hadn’t seen these people or even entered the magical realm in forever. That didn’t stop my heart from racing though. There’s just something about standing there in the middle of that circular room with ten faces staring down at you from their podiums that would make anyone a bit anxious.

  “Ginni Black.” A warlock I knew only as Savvo took the lead. “You have been called here to speak on your own behalf in the investigation of magical crimes against mortals.”

  “What?” I asked, sure I’d misheard. “Speak on my own behalf? I don’t understand. Am I being accused of an involvement?”

  “You have provided the Council with proof in the form of hydromancy, an identification of the warlock you seek,” he said, his eyes focused on a small bowl of water.

  “Yes,” I replied. “That’s right. That’s the guy who murdered my model.”

  “The magical signature is that of a Greylock demon, not a warlock.”

  “A Greylock demon?” I asked. “It can’t be. I saw him. He was a warlock.”

  “I’m afraid not.” A middle-aged witch spoke up, one I wasn’t familiar with. Perhaps she’d taken her seat after I left, I thought.

  I knew the term ‘Greylock demon’, though I’d never seen one. Heck, I didn’t know of anyone who’d seen one. They were beings of trickery and mischief, older than the written word in most cases. I’d heard stories of them, of their ferocious nature, bu
t I’d never heard of one leaving the magical realm. And for the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why it would want to harm a mortal.

  “A Greylock demon,” I repeated, still sure something wasn’t right. “How can that be? The last I heard, no witch even knew where they were.”

  “That is the question we’d like to ask you,” the woman said. “How is it that you came to be entangled with such a being?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “There has to be some kind of mistake.”

  “People make mistakes,” another member said. “Not magic.”

  Was this actually happening? Was I actually being accused of enchanting a demon and using it to sabotage my own career? Surely, they didn’t think I was that messed up, right? Who would do such a thing?

  “How did you come to find the demon?” Savvo asked.

  “I told you,” I repeated, my patience running low. “I have no idea what’s going on here. He found me, killed my model, then tried to kill me. I had nothing to do with any of this. Check my magical signature if you don’t believe me. I haven’t cast anything of merit in . . . I don’t even remember when.”

  “Magical signatures can be altered,” Savvo said. “Especially by witches as powerful as you.”

  It was true. As far as witchcraft went, I was pretty studied, and thanks to my father’s placement on the Council, I managed to wield a hefty amount of the stuff when I needed to, but this made no sense. I hadn’t contacted a demon.

  “Dad!” I said, looking to my father as he sat high above me.

  “Your father has been permitted to view this hearing.” Savvo focused his eyes on me. “But due to his leniency with you, he is not permitted to speak.”

  “You can’t do that!” I said. “That’s crap!”

  “It was a unanimous decision,” the woman said. “One each member has agreed to, including your father.”