Lost Magic

by Alexandria Clarke

  I sank into Morgan’s chair, leaving room for Karma’s feet. She offered me the beer again. This time, I took it and drank from it. It was a strong chocolate stout with a high enough alcohol content to make me cough and splutter.

  “Watch out,” Karma warned. “It’ll put hair on your chest.”

  I handed the bottle back to her. “Too little, too late. Should I go talk to Morgan?”

  Laurel handed me a napkin to wipe up the spilled beer. “Give her some time to process. The best thing you can do for her is focus on getting through your second task. Any luck with the wish demon so far?”

  As if on cue, Pilar burst from the kitchen with Darman’s diary in her grasp. In her haste, she bumped her hip into the table and sent a wave of gazpacho over the lip of the pot. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Gwenlyn, I think I found something.”

  Karma cast a quick spell, and the soup cleaned itself from the tablecloth and returned to the pot, as good as ever. “Share with the class, why don’t you, Mayor Mendez?”

  Pilar cleared her throat and opened the book to a page in the middle. “‘Upon observing the demon for countless hours, I’ve come to the conclusion that it cannot reside in its own form for any extended period of time. I have witnessed it jump from one unknowing soul to the next, and upon its exit, the victim is no more aware of the parasite than it was before. It must also be noted that the creature never resides in fellows of questionable, deceiving, or improper manners. The demon chooses a saintly individual to possess every time, implying it is not able to coexist with another mind so equally full of sin.’”

  I, along with the Summers sisters, stared at Pilar, but she didn’t bother to explain. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Pilar bounced excitedly on her toes. “Don’t you see? When the demon first attacked me, it possessed Daisy Dewey to do it. All we have to do is track down Daisy and perform this vanquishing ritual I found in Morgan’s desk drawer—”

  I snatched a folded piece of paper from Pilar’s fingers and smoothed it out. It featured handwritten instructions, an ingredient list, and a diagram that showed how to set up the ritual. I showed it to the sisters. “Have you guys ever seen this before? Did you know Morgan was creating her own spells?”

  “That’s old.” Malia took the drawing to examine it closer. “And it’s not Morgan’s handwriting either.”

  “Then whose is it?”

  Karma studied the paper next. “It’s Cassandra’s.”

  “Your mother?” Pilar asked the sisters.

  Karma held the paper lovingly between her palms as if she could extract her mother’s essence from the ink. “Yes. She wrote her own spells all the time. It drove the coven nuts. Not exactly traditional, you know?”

  “And creating your own spells can be dangerous,” Malia added. “You have to possess a firm knowledge of all witchcraft, and not many of us study such a wide range of skills. We normally focus on honing our ability. Cassandra, though, could see the future.”

  “It was dark,” Laurel lamented. “Even when I was young, I could see how the images she saw affected her.”

  “She spent more time in the archives than anyone else,” Karma added. “Reading every book and excerpt. She wanted to know as much as possible so she could prevent the horrors she saw in her dreams.”

  “One of the aunts told me she started crafting spells when she was twelve years old,” Malia said. “It was unheard of for a kid to have that much understanding of our power.”

  The paper with the handwritten vanquishing instructions mades its way back to my hands. I studied the runes and Latin phrases Cassandra had written. “These are symbols of extra power and force, and here’s a command to open a dimensional portal to banish the demon through. This is exactly what we need. Does anyone know if this is legit?”

  “If Cassandra wrote it, it’s certified nuts to try it,” Karma said. “She intentionally wrote complicated spells so that other people couldn’t use them. She didn’t want anyone taking advantage of her knowledge and power.”

  “But it’s a real spell,” I clarified. “If I figure out Cassandra’s secret, I can use it to vanquish the wish demon?”

  The three sisters exchanged an uncertain glance.

  “I suppose so,” Malia said. “But it’s risky.”

  I folded the paper for safety. “Everything’s always risky, isn’t it?”

  Pilar and I came up with a plan. First, we had to lure the wish demon out of hiding. This was the easy part. All Pilar had to do was step beyond the Summers’ property, and the demon would come running in Daisy’s body. Once it got here, things would become a little dicey. Because Pilar’s wish bound the demon to this earth and dimension, I wouldn’t be able to vanquish it, regardless of whether or not I used Cassandra’s spell. Pilar had to be the one to face the demon and perform the ritual.

  “But I thought mortals couldn’t practice magic,” Pilar argued the next morning as we went over the plan for the hundredth time. “How can we be sure that the ritual will work if I perform it?”

  “Because you’ll be using my craft,” I said. “Witches share power all the time. If I lend you my craft willingly, you’ll be able to perform the ritual. The demon goes home, Yew Hollow’s saved, and I get to move on to the next challenge.”

  “Easy peasy,” Pilar joked.

  We planned the event down to the minute. The Summers sisters agreed to hide in the house, out of sight of the wish demon but close enough to jump in to help me and Pilar if need be. The six of us shared breakfast to build our strength, but Karma’s jokes and Laurel’s constant worried expression made the meal less helpful. I gathered the supplies for the ritual. Spells were most accurate and impactful when you were equipped with the tools of the trade. In this case, I combed the house for seven six-inch white candles and one melted almost to the end of the wick, eye of newt—mustard seed if you were well-versed, a handful of late-harvested barley, and “the hand of a goddess.” This last tidbit was the most challenging. I ended up trimming an old picture of Cassandra, since she was definitely a goddess in my book.

  “Spells are subjective,” I justified to Pilar when I added Cassandra’s cropped, two-dimensional hand to the pile of ingredients. “They’re meant to be interpreted by the user.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Let’s get everything set up.”

  We cleared a space in the middle of the living room, pushing the sofas aside so we had enough room to perform the ritual. I instructed Pilar how to arrange the candles and other ingredients. The six candles formed a six-pointed star with the seventh melted candle in the center, while the barley, mustard seed, and hand of a goddess sat in east, south, and west positions relative to the middle candle’s northern placement. Then Pilar and I went over the pronunciation of the Latin phrases for the spell. She caught on quickly, and her accent was better than mine.

  An hour before noon, we were ready to set the plan in motion. Pilar and I stood on the front porch, hand in hand, while the other Summers sisters watched nervously from the house’s windows. The only one who didn’t look terrified was Morgan. When she caught my eye, she smirked. Anyone else might have read it as a slight, but to me, it was Morgan’s most inspirational expression. I shook my head and rolled my eyes at her.

  “Ready?” I asked Pilar.

  She squared her shoulders. “More than I’ll ever be.”

  “Here we go then.”

  Together, Pilar and I stepped off the porch and into the front yard. We walked to the end of the property and into the dirt road. I counted down from ten. When I reached one, we ran back to the porch steps.

  Panting, Pilar stared down the dirt road as if expecting Daisy to roar up to the house in a monster truck. “Now what?”

  I sat on the steps and rested my hands on my knees. “Now we wait. Have a seat. You shouldn’t waste your strength.”

  Pilar sighed and sat next to me. “Do you think it’ll take long?”

  “Not long at all.”

  A
few quiet minutes passed. The breeze ruffled my hair and tickled my forehead. The day was too nice for demons and banishing rituals. I should have been swimming at the lake with the kids or helping Morgan with the daily lost dead. It wasn’t fair.

  “There!” Pilar jumped up and pointed to the end of the hill. “I see a car coming up!”

  I scrambled to my feet as a tiny green hatchback pulled up to the curb. The car looked familiar, and when the driver got out, I realized why. I’d seen the car outside the bakery in town almost every day. The driver waved.

  “Hi, you two! I’ve got cupcakes. Are you interested?”

  Pilar and I exchanged confused looks.

  “Belinda?”

  15

  Belinda extracted a large white box from the trunk of her car, balanced it on her forearms, and began walking toward the porch steps. Pilar and I instinctively backed away. I pulled power from my aura and hid my hands behind my back so Belinda wouldn’t see the green sparks flying from my fingers.

  “Cinnamon and vanilla,” Belinda called. “I made a double batch this morning with the Summers in mind. We haven’t seen much of you all since the spring equinox. Is everything okay?”

  Pilar and I stared as she walked right up to the porch and stopped, both feet firmly on the gravel walkway.

  “Uh, yeah,” I said hastily. “Everything’s fine.”

  She lifted the box. “Do you mind? This is getting a bit heavy.” I reached to take the box from her, but she hugged it to her chest. “Do you mind if I come in and set it down myself? I don’t want them to fall over and ruin the icing.”

  I glanced at Pilar, who shrugged one shoulder. Technically, everything was going to plan. We thought inviting the demon into the Summers’ sanctuary was the best way to trap it. Once it entered, the Summers could reverse-engineer the spell that protected the house and prevent the demon from leaving until we vanquished it.

  “Sure,” Pilar said, recovering first. She stepped aside to make room for Belinda’s box. “Come on in, honey.”

  Belinda smiled politely at Pilar as she made her way up the porch steps. “What are you doing here, Mayor Mendez? Cooking up something exciting for the town?”

  “Oh, you know,” Pilar said. “I like to spend time with the locals to make sure everyone is pleased with the way I’m running things. Don’t worry. The bakery’s on my list as well. It’s my personal goal to keep the woman who sells the best coffee in town happy and healthy.”

  I held the door open for Belinda. When she crossed over the threshold, I caught Malia’s eye in the upstairs window and nodded. A quick flash of violet light appeared in the doorway, unbeknownst to Belinda. She was officially trapped inside.

  “You can place the cupcakes in here,” I said, leading Belinda to the dining room table.

  She huffed as she lowered the box. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Pilar. I do have a few things I’d like to address with you. First of all, those parking meters are killing my business. I used to have regulars who drove in from the neighboring town, but now that they have to give up precious quarters, they’ve started drinking coffee elsewhere.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Pilar said, so convincingly that I wondered if she’d forgotten the point of Belinda’s visit. “I’ll look into parking vouchers for your customers. Do you suppose that’s a worthy compromise?”

  Belinda considers it. “That could work. Would you like a cupcake?” She opened the box lid, revealing two dozen perfect vanilla cupcakes with a twist of cinnamon icing on top of each one. They looked like ice cream cones. “I even brought a few with light icing, Gwen. I know you’re not a fan of so much sugar.”

  I chose one of the cupcakes with less icing and peeled off the wrapper. “You’re the best person I know, Belinda.”

  Pilar smacked the cupcake out of my hand. It flew across the room and landed icing side down on the carpet. Belinda’s eyes widened with shock.

  “What the hell, Pilar?”

  She glanced at Belinda then whispered, “Were you really going to eat that? It could be poisoned!”

  “Is something wrong?” Belinda said. “Oh no. Gwen, tell me you haven’t gone gluten-free.”

  “I haven’t,” I assured her. “It was just a twitch, I’m sure. Right, Pilar?”

  Pilar’s face turned bright red as she balled her hands into fists. “No, it wasn’t a twitch. You want to know the truth, Belinda?”

  “Pilar…” I warned. Losing her temper wasn’t part of the plan. We both needed to keep our cools. “It’s no big deal.”

  The mayor couldn’t be stopped. “No, I think Belinda should know the truth, and here it is! Gwenlyn doesn’t want to eat demon cupcakes!”

  Belinda was stunned, her eyebrows so high on her forehead that they could have vanished all together with little effort. “I’m sorry, what? Did you say demon cupcakes? What does that even mean?”

  Pilar towered over Belinda. “Oh, you know exactly what it means, Vesuvio.”

  Belinda peered around Pilar to look at me. “Are you sure everything’s okay? It seems like everyone’s on edge.”

  I realized that I, too, had formed fists, ready to lay into Belinda at the first sign of a demon possession. But she didn’t look like Daisy had when the wish demon took over her body. There were no blacked-out eyes or inflated body parts. She simply looked like Belinda.

  “Everything’s fine.” I edged toward Pilar and linked my arm through hers to keep her from lunging at Belinda. “Thanks for the cupcakes. I’m sure everyone will appreciate them.”

  “Right.” Belinda dusted her hands, leaving flour marks on her pants. “All right then. I guess I’ll be off. Nice to see you two. Have a lovely day.”

  She saw herself out of the house. Pilar and I waited until we heard the door close to let out the air we were holding in. My shoulders stooped with my released sigh.

  “So Belinda’s not the demon?” Pilar asked, sitting in the closest chair. “I thought for sure—”

  “So did I,” I said. “But I guess we’re still waiting for Daisy to show up. Do you want a cupcake?”

  Pilar nodded and took one from the box. When she bit into it, a look of horror crossed her face. She dropped the sweet, and it fell onto the carpet and split open. Pilar spit her mouthful onto the floor. The cupcake had been filled with mealworms.

  Pilar let out a squeal and bolted for the kitchen. I ran after her and found her rinsing her mouth with the tap water over the sink. She coughed and gagged, her whole body convulsing.

  “Was it poisoned?” I demanded. “Other than the bugs?”

  “No,” she spat. “But it’s disgusting nonetheless.”

  Belinda kicked open the back door to the kitchen. I jumped out of the way as she stomped in. When she glanced sharply at me, I caught sight of her black eyes.

  “You thought I would leave so early?” Belinda roared, her voice deep and demonic. “I never leave a party before the cake is served!”

  Pilar screamed and sprinted from the kitchen, water dripping from her face and hands. I slipped on the wet floor and fell backward, landing butt-first. Pain seared through my tailbone and lower back as Belinda charged toward me. I covered my head with my hands and tossed up a quick shield spell, but the demon vaulted over me to find Pilar. Grimacing, I scrambled to my feet and followed the possessed baker through the dining room.

  “You owe me a debt!” Belinda’s shout shook the ceiling of the house. As I passed the stairs, I spotted Malia, Laurel, and Karma at the top. All three of them had magic building at their fingertips, but I shook my head to discourage them. This was mine and Pilar’s fight, at least until we weren’t able to finish it ourselves anymore.

  Pilar, for all her screaming and yelling, remembered the plan. She led the demon into the living room and ran through middle of the ritual candles, careful not to knock any over. Belinda followed right after her, crushing the melted candle in the middle of the ritual with her foot.

  “Halt!” Pilar yelled in the short Latin phrases
I’d taught her.

  I summoned my craft and pushed it toward Pilar with a mental shuffleboard cue. Honestly, up until that point, I wasn’t sure if power sharing was going to work with a mortal, but Pilar lit up with green magic. The demon tried to lift its foot from the candle stub and found that it was rooted to the floor. It roared again, once more with the effort of trying to lift the roof from the house with just its voice. I almost laughed. The demon couldn’t have chosen a less intimidating body to possess. To see little Belinda from the bakery bare her teeth and shake her fists at us was downright hilarious.

  “Keep going!” I yelled at Pilar when she looked at me for help. “You have her trapped. All you have to do is complete the summoning spell!”

  Pilar pulled a crumpled cheat sheet from her pocket and smoothed it out. As she read the spell aloud, I opened the pathway between us even further, fueling Pilar with my craft. Green light poured from her skin as if she were a magical creature that lived in the deepest part of the ocean.

  “You will not entrap me,” Belinda bellowed. “Our deal is unconditional. Hand over the piece of your soul you promised to me!”

  “Not today!” Pilar hollered back, her hands moving in the patterns I’d taught her yesterday. “You’re done manipulating hopeless people for your own gain. Especially in my town!”

  Pilar chanted in Latin, and my green aura formed ropes to restrain the demon. As the magic wrapped about Belinda’s arms, she writhed and screamed. The beast’s eyes flickered, and the black disappeared, leaving Belinda’s normal brown eyes in place.

  “Please,” she begged in her normal voice. “I’m still in here. I’m still me! If you vanquish the demon, you’ll kill me too! I won’t be able to withstand the strength of the ritual!”

  The doubt got to me, and my craft faltered. The green ropes around Belinda slackened enough for her to free her arms. Pilar glanced across the room at me, the obvious question in her eyes: was this a trick?

  “I beg you!” Belinda pled, tears running down her cheeks. “I don’t want to die. I have so many recipes left to try.”