The New Improved Sorceress

by Sara Hanover

  “Work how?”

  “Slicing you free.”

  Goldie frowned. “Have you done it before?”

  “I’ve cut things with it before. I can see this shining coil running along here,” and I put my left index finger out to what I had found and plinked it. She shuddered and gave a gulp, laid her hand over her stomach.

  “I felt that.”

  “Hmmm.” Maybe, in the moonlight, I was seeing her essence tied to her winged ability. I moved my hand away. And then, at the lower boundary of her wing, I could see a dull red rope, a nasty looking thing, that pulsated in time with my stone. “Oh, no. I think maybe this is what I need to cut.” I plucked at that. As I did, her wings folded as if in fear, collapsing away from me, and she shuddered.

  I didn’t intend to let the serpentine cord disappear on me.

  “Careful,” Steptoe warned.

  “I know.” I unwove a bit of it and showed it to him. His black eyes reflected the sickly glowing crimson.

  “That would be it. Not natural to the shining beauty of the harpy’s true self.”

  “Goldie? Give me permission?”

  “Go for it.” She held her breath.

  I pulled as much of it free as I could gather and then cut from the bottom of it, not far from the base of her spine. Then I just sliced and diced, watching it disintegrate as I did until nothing seemed to be left of it. The stone sputtered a bit as I finished.

  “Well done.” Steptoe patted my shoulder. “All right? The stone protects your left hand, but your right might be takin’ in some of that nasty bit, so hold hands. Rub ’em a bit, to clean ’em.”

  I did. Goldie hugged me. “I will send word!”

  “Right and, uh, be careful.”

  “Always.”

  She took flight then, with a jump and a rush, her great wings beating in a glory of white and gold, and she disappeared into the moonlight.

  “Wow.”

  “Gorgeous, ain’t it? I could never understand why harpies could be so harsh and bitter.” Steptoe stood with his head tilted back a moment before turning. “Road trip?”

  “Home. Where should I drop you?”

  “Home. Yours, that is. I have a little place next to the garage if needed.”

  I looked at him.

  “Well, I do.”

  “I’ve never seen it.”

  “You’re not supposed to.”

  “Does Scout know?”

  “He must certainly does. I bribe ’im with dog treats not to tell anyone.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Remind me to remind him what a guard dog is supposed to do.”

  “But I’m friends. Almost family. Ain’t that right?”

  “Yeah.” I kept pace with him as we found our way back to the car. “Definitely right.”

  “Good. Put out your hand.”

  I looked at him quizzically. He dropped something into it. “What—”

  “That there is called a clue, I believe.”

  When I got the car door open, I examined it in the light. “It’s a feather.”

  “Black swan, mayhap. Although it could be taken for a harpy feather. But lookit this,” and his stubby nail pointed out a harsh thread wrapped around its base.

  I squinted at it. “It looks like a hair.”

  “Horsehair, I’d say, for tying the feather in place.”

  I let thoughts run through my mind for a minute until it made sense. “So someone wore feathers as a . . . what . . . a disguise?”

  “Dropped feathers as evidence. That was the second one I found. First was this ’ere.” And he showed me the long, black feather.

  “Now this one looks like the real thing.”

  “As meant.”

  I took it from him as well. “If she’d seen it, she’d have gone after her own sisters.”

  “Which, I imagine, was the intent.”

  “Good thing you found them. She’s going after them anyway, but not to get even.”

  He tapped the side of his nose. “And didn’t jump to conclusions.”

  “Right.” I turned the odd feather over a few times. “Would sympathetic magic work on this?”

  “Likely to take you to th’ bird they plucked it from, not the ones who did this deed. Although this,” and he scraped his nail against the horsehair. “Is a clue in itself. But I cannot tell you it will lead anywhere.”

  “I need to know more about Hiram’s enemies, it seems. And Goldie’s.” I yawned. It would be a long drive home, and I needed to stay alert.

  But then Steptoe discovered the car radio and the heavy metal golden oldies channel.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CRUMBS

  BRIAN WANDERED IN just as I parked the car to the side of the driveway, a hobo bag slung over his shoulder. He stopped to look us over. Steptoe hugged his sack of late night drive-through goodies and disappeared on us, but the professor didn’t seem surprised or unsurprised to see him. He fell into pace with me. As we went through the door, I tapped his bag. “Finished salvaging?”

  “It seems so. I can only hope you and the other helpers did a fair job. The current situation prohibits my returning again.” He sighed heavily.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Can’t be helped.”

  “I think we did all right by you. Critique us after you’ve been through all the boxes.”

  He gave a diffident tilt of his head. “Would it surprise you to know that I can sense most of my belongings, the cardboard being little or no barrier? I have a fairly good idea of what’s been found without opening them.”

  “And?”

  “Not enough,” he said heavily. “Not nearly enough.”

  “But better than nothing, right? Which is what you could have been left with.”

  “True. Unutterably true.”

  “Is it not enough because we overlooked things or because the fire and water destroyed stuff?”

  “I would say that, after tonight’s inspection, that we’ve salvaged what we can.”

  I liked the fact that he included me and the others who’d been trying to help. We paused at the kitchen; its only fixture on was the small light in the cooking vent over the stove. That meant Mom had gone to bed. “I ate on the road with Steptoe. Need me to fix you something?”

  He sniffed. “Did Mary make biscuits before she left the kitchen?”

  It did smell of fresh baked goods, with a hint of cinnamon and peach. “Possibly. Can’t guarantee what it would have been.”

  “A cup of tea would be nice.”

  So I fixed him a cup of tea, added a big dollop of honey and a half-shot of brandy, and pushed it over to him. He took a deep inhalation of the aroma before sipping at it. “Ah. Perfect.”

  “Thank you. And look. There are, indeed, biscuits.” I plated him one, wrapped a second in a napkin for myself, and put the others away for morning.

  When he pushed away the cup, he went strangely silent, and finally gave a big sigh, turning to look at me. The fiercely intelligent glint of the professor in his eyes did not show, and I sensed that Brian faced me.

  “Finally,” he said softly. “The old guy doesn’t like to give me much time.”

  I wasn’t certain if he expected sympathy, so I answered, “He’s trying to solve problems.”

  “Yeah, I know. But he doesn’t think about me much. Sometimes I think he’s jealous.”

  “Jealous?”

  “I have the age and health he needs.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m not jealous. I think. Just a little terrified.” He pushed his teacup a little. “What will happen to me?”

  “He’ll do the ritual again, and you’ll have all your wizardly capability back.” Tactfully, I did not mention he might go up in flames again. I could see where that might bother him.


  “I’ve been reading his journal when he rests. He wouldn’t like it if he knew, but even if he decides to hide it, I should be able to find it. Anyway, he usually doesn’t change much from lifetime to lifetime. This is strangely different. For both of us.” Brian leaned forward. “Frankly, I think I’m done if he rejuvs successfully.”

  “You learned that from the journal?”

  “He’s never had two souls before. He thinks . . . he thinks it’s corrupting him.”

  I put my hand out and wrapped my fingers about his free hand. “You’re not like that, Brian!”

  “I don’t think I am. It worries me a little, you know?”

  “I can understand that. I don’t know how, but I’ll help however I can. You’re a good guy. The professor is used to being a little selfish. Old confirmed bachelor and all that. We’ll work on him.”

  “Thanks.” Brian stifled a yawn as he pushed away from the table. “I don’t want to disappear into nothing, you know?”

  None of us did.

  Upstairs, I found Scout sound asleep in the middle of my bed, ignoring his own dog bed in the corner. I booted him out, which cost me very hurt looks from very big puppy dog eyes, and then was instantly forgiven when I broke apart the biscuit to share with him. He scarfed up every single crumb. I considered going back down for seconds, but weariness sank in, so I crawled into bed after promising myself I’d have a biscuit for breakfast.

  Scout returned to sleep immediately and I followed after, thinking of what big birds had long black swanlike feathers until I dreamed of them chasing me across a park, pecking at my ankles.

  * * *

  • • •

  Scout woke me far too early, his puppy eagerness to go outside and check out the new day, plus decorate the back yard, a necessity. I stumbled after him, mouth engulfed in yawning and breathing, my body sort of tromping around behind my mouth. Field hockey practice was going to be agony today. Double agony for having missed running earlier in the week.

  Luckily, on a Wednesday, no one seemed to be very ambitious, not even the teachers. As I drifted from class to class, I had the thought that Silverbranch might well come looking for me at school. My inner self scoffed at that—witnesses!—but the back of my neck itched anyway. The feeling someone watched trailed me all day until I finally drove Evelyn home, me dirty and grubby from field hockey and she a little sweaty from cheer practice and then her gig as a trainer. I looked ridiculous, but she glowed. I sighed as she leaned back through the car door. Her bruise even looked healed, which I could only be grateful for as I didn’t want either Statler parent after my head for harming their princess.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  “Right. Game day Friday night.”

  “I have to be at the JV game, sorry.”

  “Of course. Go, boys!” I shook a fist at her in fake ire at the guys getting the cheerleading.

  “Both teams should be in the finals.”

  “Mine, too.” I couldn’t say if I’d be able to join them. It depended on my penalty status. Evelyn shut the door and pushed herself away, waving and making the “call me” sign.

  I felt a little more human after a shower and change of clothes. Downstairs, I had the fixings out for an immense pot of homemade spaghetti, as it was Mom’s late night at her campus, with a student appointment or two scheduled for her office hours. She’d miss the war meeting but would insist on being caught up later. While everything cooked along, I sat with Scout and brought the two feathers out.

  “Let’s put that sniffer to work. You’ll smell me and Steptoe, but someone—or something—dropped these. I’m hoping you’ll get a scent and remember it.”

  He snuffled my hands eagerly, but I didn’t know if he was going for the feathers or the dim scent of hamburger from making the meatballs and soap from washing up. He sat, his golden tail sweeping the floor back and forth.

  “Good boy.” I put the feathers back in my room, away from whatever controversy they might cause. Steptoe had kept them away from Goldie, and I rather had the feeling that was a good idea in general.

  Somewhere between the sauce simmering and the spaghetti becoming al dente, the gang arrived, one by one. Hiram appeared, his heavy footsteps bringing the usual minor earthquake with him. The house groaned at his presence. Steptoe showed up with a faint odor trail of brimstone in his steps. He said nothing when I looked at him curiously, though he dusted his coat sleeves a bit. What had he been up to? Carter came in sharply, as though marching to a drum none of the rest of us could hear. Brian more or less surfed into the room, mellow as could be, and the professor didn’t emerge until after the first plate of spaghetti went down enthusiastically.

  Strands of noodle without marinara adornment kept disappearing from the table, and I noted that Scout made his rounds underneath, going from knee to knee to knee. When he came to mine, he burped politely, as if stuffed with pasta and sat down on one of my feet. So I scratched his ear instead, while watching the guys eat and talk over idle gossip. Brian led with thanking Carter for running interference for him and did it sincerely. I guess Mom kept hammering on him until it hit home that gratitude was required. Steptoe said little, sitting back in his chair, fingers laced together over his vested stomach, watching the others with an expression of satisfaction. Hiram inclined a chin to him.

  “I hear a glop got you.”

  “And you heard right. But it died, and I got a hand up, and all’s well that ends well.”

  “Good. I think Tessa’s going to need all the friends she can get.”

  I picked up my dirty dishes and put them on the counter till later, coming back with a notebook and pen. They turned to me. “Several key things have happened since the last time we met.” I put up a finger as I named them. “One, Brian went to jail and got released with Carter’s intervention. Two, Steptoe got taken down by a glop and got rescued. Three, I went to Silverbranch Academy and—”

  “What?” The professor sat up, bristling.

  “You were in jail, remember? I didn’t have much chance to discuss it with you.”

  Steptoe offered, “I would have gone as planned but got detained. I did, however, lend her my best coat.”

  His best one? I wondered what tricks the others could do. I pointed my pen at Brian. “They came to my school with a story that I might be given an internship there this year, and possibly a scholarship later. You know I had to look into that.”

  “Who?”

  “Agents Danbury and Naziz.”

  Brian’s eyes narrowed. “Those two.”

  “Know them?”

  He turned his glare on Carter. “Yes, and he should have warned you.”

  Carter’s brow creased in concern. “I had no idea they’d even heard of Tessa. Did they come to recruit you, then? Or scare you?”

  “Recruit. Although I can see where they might act as muscle.”

  “They are occasionally sent after minor talents to make them cease and desist. Recruitment is only for those the Society desires to bring in and teach.” He stopped and thought a moment. “No offense, Tessa, but I thought you were off their radar.”

  “Some essay packet I wrote drew their attention.”

  “Hmmm. That wouldn’t alert them, that packet is given in response to an alarm, meaning that you were already being watched by the Society. Perhaps the Hashimoto affair caught someone’s eye.”

  It seemed Joanna and her samurai wizard father were still mucking up my life. I made a note. “Moving on, I decided definitely to visit Silverbranch because I’d gotten a vision from Germanigold and thought it directed me to the academy.”

  Hiram leaned forward, shoving his plate away and planting his heavy elbows on the tabletop. The dining table dipped slightly in response. “And how would my stepmother know to contact you?”

  I cleared my throat. “I, umm, was at the professor’s house with Scout when sh
e came out of the ashes. She’d been projecting for the professor but settled for whatever witness she could find. She’d been abducted, all right. Told me she’d been taken by a judge.”

  “Society?” thundered the professor, echoed by Carter.

  “Sounded like it. So point four . . . we’re at four, right? Yes.” I made another note on my page. “I found her on the Silverbranch campus and released her, after running into a Judge Maxwell Parker.” My gaze swept all of them. “He, frankly, seems to be bad news.”

  The professor shook a finger at Carter. “This, this is why I don’t trust the Society. Nefarious and high-handed scoundrels.”

  “Parker is known to be somewhat of a renegade. I’ll pass along word of this latest transgression. He’s on probation already.”

  “Too late. He’s already done harm.”

  “Nonetheless”—and Carter stared down the professor—“he’ll be held accountable and by better men than you and I. I’d like to know more about Germanigold.”

  “Even though Morty died after she’d been taken, she knew about his loss. She grieves for him. She did NOT know about the Eye of Nimora also being missing and took me and Steptoe there—a place where she thought she had it stowed—last night, because she seemed fairly certain it would be safe.”

  Like a tennis match, now all eyes turned to Steptoe. He shrugged. “Her abode was found demolished and the gem gone. No evidence of who took it, but she is asking about. So will we.”

  Carter drummed his fingers next to his empty plate. “You’ve been up all hours, it seems.”

  I flicked a look at him. “And how would you know?”

  “Hmm. The tell-tales let me know when you arrived home last night.”

  “They did? The bloomin’ spies are working for someone else!” cried Steptoe, enraged. “Why I’ll pluck their lily-livered stems out!”

  “I thought their alarm system was for everyone’s benefit.” Carter smiled at him mildly.