All the Pretty Witches

by Lauren Quick

  “What kind of job?” Honora asked.

  “You need to source some ingredients for a new spell.” She handed her a scrap of parchment.

  “Blood wax candles, feathers from a broken wing, a snake’s shed skin.” The list continued and it was just as gruesome. “What does she plan on doing with these ingredients?” Honora asked.

  “Don’t worry. I’m Beatrice,” the Nix sister said. Her blonde hair was tucked under a cream-colored flying cap. “You can find all the ingredients in the shops around here. Just make it fast.”

  “Is this what all the meetings are like?” Honora asked.

  “You ask too many questions,” the Blackbury wizard said, crossing his thick arms over his chest.

  “Come on, Gorn. She’s one of us now. We should tell her,” Rachel said.

  “We’re not going to tell her anything.” Rex lifted off his feet and stared at Honora. “You can meet us at Soar when you’ve gotten all the ingredients. Until then.” He waved and disappeared into the night.

  “Are you all serious? I’m to do Ophelia’s bidding while you go off and play,” Honora said, realizing she was the low witch in the pecking order.

  “Something like that,” Rachel said with a smile. “See you later.”

  The rest of them lifted off the ground and left Honora standing in the street with her list. It didn’t take her long to find the items in the shops in the Halo district, which wasn’t entirely comforting. She’d asked one of the shop owners what the ingredients could be used for and got a gruff response that they were used for nothing good. The blood candles weren’t a good sign. Blood magic never was. It was the gateway magic to the darker stuff. If they were into black magic, why make it so obvious to her before they got to know her? But she did what they asked, quickly, and joined them at Soar, realizing it was all part of the dark dance of getting to know the elusive flyers.

  12

  Vivi sat on the floor of Willow’s bedroom surrounded by some of her things—a hand-knit sweater given to her by her grandmother, a beloved stuffed bear she’d had since she was two, and her favorite robe she’d worn at Haven Academy. Vivi wanted to use items that held great meaning for Willow. The room smelled faintly of roses, her favorite flowers, according to her uncle. Rose sachets hung on her headboard. Vivi rubbed the soft velvety ear of the bear between her fingers and cast her intuition outward.

  She got nothing. Again only darkness came to her when she thought of Willow Cashing. It was like walking down a road and hitting a dead end. There was nowhere for her to go, no path, no clue, nothing. There was no future for Willow that Vivi could see. But one thing she knew for certain—Willow wasn’t dead. She knew this because she’d had a vision of a dead person once. Technically, the vision was an accident. She wasn’t into the macabre or anything; she just happened to be at Pepper’s parents’ house in the Crossroads, which was a town filled with ghosts.

  After Pepper invented a ghost potion that allowed a witch to see and communicate with the dead, Vivi had agreed to visit the ghostly town with her, so she could try it out firsthand. Vivi had innocently picked up a music box from the coffee table to admire it when she got a vision of a witch in a coffin wearing a wedding dress, buried in the ground. The image of the dead witch’s body came quickly and dissolved, leaving Vivi with a feeling of peace and finality. A little shaken, Vivi had told Pepper about the vision and Pepper waved her off, saying that was her aunt Ida who had recently passed away and wanted to be buried in her wedding dress.

  Vivi was certain that if Willow were dead, she’d see something to indicate a dead body, especially if she’d come to a terrible end. Vivi’s forehead creased. She was getting nowhere and she could either continue to sit there or she could get up and ask for help.

  Vivi left Willow’s apartment and the law offices of Edward Cashing behind her and walked down Main Street in Willow Realm as her destination came into view. The Evil Queen was one of the most popular shops on the street. Whenever Vivi visited, it was always packed with excited witches clamoring to learn the art of prophecy. Scarlet Card, the shop’s glamorous owner, claimed it was one of the few persuasions that could be grown, if not learned, from scratch. She’d been kind enough to mentor Vivi in the past and she hoped she’d help her now.

  A gaggle of young witches huddled over teacups, learning the ways of reading the leaves. Vivi walked up to the counter where Scarlet stood polishing a huge crystal ball sitting in a silver filigree stand. Her dark cherry-colored hair was pulled back into a huge braid framing her head like a crown.

  “Hey, I saw your sister the other day. She was acting really weird, a little freaky,” Scarlet said.

  Vivi wondered which sister Scarlet was talking about. Both of her sisters could be a little weird, but Clover liked to keep her weirdness close to home. “You saw Honora?” Vivi guessed.

  “Yeah, I was surprised too. She kind of snuck up on me out of nowhere while I was shopping and needed my help. I haven’t seen her in weeks, so I was shocked.”

  “That doesn’t sound weird. Were you in Stargazer City?”

  “I was in the Halo district, so I guess I was surprised to see her there. She’s turned into such an upstanding witch, so I didn’t expect her to darken that dark part of town.” Scarlet glanced sideways and smiled at Vivi, who wondered if the witch was trying to elicit a response. When they were younger, Scarlet and Honora got into a lot of trouble, dabbling in edgy magic and bad boy wizards.

  “What were you doing in the Halo district?” Vivi paused and held up her hand. “No, don’t tell me. It’s your business. Honora is probably working a case. Being an investigator takes her all over the city, especially the seedy parts. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Still, she was acting weird.” Her normally baby-smooth forehead creased. “I thought I’d let you know. My conscience is clean.” Scarlet coiled a long strand of black glass beads around her wrist. “But I’m guessing you didn’t come here to talk about your sister. So, what can I do for you?”

  Vivi cleared her throat. “I need help with a case I’m working on. And I was hoping you might have a minute to spare.”

  A burst of laughter from the group of witches in the corner filled the shop. The door opened and additional customers filed in. “You’re busy. I should come back another time.” Vivi turned to leave.

  “Don’t move,” Scarlet said. “I’ll get Emme to come out front. Come on.” She motioned for Vivi to follow her and instructed one of her employees to help with the rush of customers.

  “Business is great around here,” Vivi said. “You’re always so busy.”

  “The one thing you can count on is the future. It’s always looming with mysterious promises. Plus, witches are curious by nature, so prophecy is a cash cow.” Scarlet sat on a crushed red velvet sofa and Vivi dropped down next to her. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  Vivi told Scarlet about Willow Cashing and her predicament.

  “Could I be seeing the future events and still not be right about it?” Vivi asked, remembering what Clover had said to her.

  “Of course, silly. You’re seeing a moment floating in time with no beginning and no end. Then you’re adding meaning to it. You’re filling in the gaps before and after. That’s a lot of interpreting. That’s why seeing the future and predicting it is so difficult. You are given only a moment, so yes, you could be wrong.”

  “So maybe Edward was involved in Willow’s disappearance or maybe he wasn’t?” Vivi leaned her head back in angst. “This is so frustrating.”

  “I think your interpretation of Edward was right. He’s upset and clearly guilt-ridden over something he’s done, but that doesn’t mean he killed or hurt her. But there’s something else. I’m more worried about you getting nothing on Willow today when you tried. Especially since you were in her bedroom with her things. That sett
ing should have supercharged your sight, even if she is dead.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m here. I should be getting something and I’m not.”

  “There is one alternative. The absence of a vision could be the vision.” Scarlet’s perfectly sculpted brow arched.

  “What do you mean?” Vivi leaned up, intrigued.

  A smile hooked up one side of Scarlet’s mouth. “There is one very obvious reason you aren’t seeing this witch’s future and it’s not because she’s dead.”

  Vivi grabbed her arm. “Tell me. What is it?”

  “She’s not Willow Cashing any more.”

  “She’s not? Then who is she?” Vivi paused, her mouth dropped open. “Even if she changed her identity, I’d still see something, wouldn’t I? I’d see the new her.”

  “Not necessarily, especially if she’s completely abandoned her old life and has transformed into a new witch. She could have used a spell to cut all connection to the old her.” Scarlet shook her head. “I’ve heard of more than a few witches needing to start over and leave some sketchy and downright dangerous situations behind.”

  “But why would she do that? Why would she leave and not tell anyone? She had a nice quiet life. She wasn’t abused. Her uncle adored her. He’s heartbroken, truly devastated by her disappearance.”

  “Witches start over for many reasons. Her reason could be complicated and we might not know why. Her uncle might not want to admit what he did or he might not know her entirely. Maybe he did something that she can’t forgive.

  What could he have done to make her leave everything? “I think he’s hiding something. There’s something he won’t tell the police. But, honestly, though I get some secrecy from him, I don’t feel he’s a bad wizard. Then again, I don’t really know him. Could he be deceiving us all?”

  “Anything’s possible.”

  “How will I find her now if I don’t know who she’s become?” Vivi asked.

  “You don’t, unfortunately for you. That’s the point of a witch changing her identity. She doesn’t want to be found. You and the police and her uncle might have to live with that.”

  “That’s a lot easier said than done.”

  Clover raced down the stairs, out the front door, and all the way to the mailbox, her bare feet slapping on the walkway. She whipped open the box and snatched the copy of the newspaper out and sprinted all the way back to the porch where Derek was waiting for her. They both sat on the porch swing as Clover pawed through the pages, searching for the exposé she’d written.

  “There it is!” Derek blurted suddenly, his finger jabbing the parchment.

  Clover folded the paper back and scanned the story. The photo of Anise Witherspoon took up a quarter of the page—a huge emerald necklace was nestled at the base of her throat. Glittery diamond earrings dangled from her earlobes and a huge diamond ring winked from her finger, her hand delicately held aloft to catch the light and the camera’s attention. “Too much?” she asked Derek with a coy smile.

  “A witch can never have too many jewels,” he said. “You’re dripping with them.”

  They were actually pieces of costume jewelry Clover had dug out of the attic that they polished and charmed into looking like the real thing. They wanted to sell the young witch as naïve and innocently superficial—likable and yet totally spoiled and out of touch with the common witch. Anise was independently wealthy and had absolutely nothing to do with her time, except luxuriate in the bliss of her new affair.

  The story discussed Anise’s desire to travel Everland and see the country with her new explorer boyfriend—the equally wealthy and extravagant wizard who went by the name Archer. The two were beginning their trip in Stargazer City and were currently shacked up at the Hightower Hotel, which she discovered had the worst security in the city. Clover had checked. The story detailed that the couple had been out gallivanting at local restaurants and nightclubs, leaking gold and guzzling champagne.

  Excitement bloomed in Clover’s chest. Tonight was the night she and Derek would stakeout the hotel and tempt the Lady Raider to steal the emerald necklace. Then she would catch her.

  “How exactly are we going to catch her?” Derek asked.

  Clover’s brow furrowed. In all the excitement of creating a new character, she’d let the details of the actual event lapse. “I haven’t got it entirely mapped out yet. The plan is to have the necklace on the velvet display form, sitting on the vanity in the bedroom. The window will be left ajar. The hotel uses basic security wards on all rooms. I’ve reserved a suite.”

  “Sounds good so far.”

  “We’re going to dinner at Elementals.”

  “That’s the hottest restaurant in the city. I’ve been dying to eat there. The food has elemental themes. I hear the fire and brimstone shrimp is fantastic.”

  Clover smiled. She knew Derek had wanted to eat there for months and was waiting to find a perfect time to take him. “After dinner you and I will return to the suite and sit in the living area, listening to music and drinking cocktails after dinner. From what I’ve gleaned from the paper, her pattern is to break in while the mark is on the premises.”

  “That’s exciting and dangerous.”

  “It’s also what I’m betting on. We need to be there when she breaks in. I’m thinking of using a magical alert so I know when she enters the room.”

  “We could use a double mirror!” Derek blurted out. “That would be perfect if you leave the bait on the vanity table, which has a mirror already. Then we bring a hand mirror and spell it so that we can watch what’s going on from the other room.”

  “That’s genius.”

  “What happens when she breaks in? How will we detain her?”

  “Technically we don’t need to actually trap her, just keep her subdued while I plead my case and get her to talk to us. I’m stuck between using a magical net or a magical chain. I thought a magical cage would be too cruel, too confining, and might anger her or freak her out.”

  “A net is very confining,” he said.

  “We’ll use the chain then. I thought an enchanted chain would be appropriate since she is a jewel thief. The chain will be hidden under the vanity and will engage when she takes the necklace.”

  “Sounds impressive. You’ve done more planning then you let on. Now, what are we going to do with her once she’s caught?”

  “Then it’s all me and my power to convince her to do an interview. I want to get her side of the story and give her the opportunity of being immortalized in print. I’ll have to notify the local authorities eventually.” Clover set the paper down. “This would be the chance to see the crime from her perspective, find out why she does it, how she does it, and what she sees as her life goals. I want to know everything. Not all in one night, of course, but we could set something up where we could meet, very clandestine.”

  Derek nodded. “Do you think she’s really going to tell you all of that? She is technically a criminal. Mind you she’s a glamorous one who is only taking stuff from rich witches, but still. She could be threatened.”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what will happen. She could be furious with me. I don’t think she’ll hurt us, because that’s not her style, so I’m not too worried. Plus, you’ll be there, which might add to her irritation if she perceives she’s being ganged up on. That’s why I have to sell myself and make sure she realizes that I’m on her side.”

  “What if she says no? What do we do then?” Derek asked.

  “Our experiment in true crime will come to a crashing end.” Clover shrugged. “I’ll have to go back to writing fiction and make something up.” She wasn’t entirely delusional. She knew what she was attempting was crazy and highly unlikely to ever really work the way she envisioned, but she’d been playing her whole life safe and sound, tucked up in her cozy writing turret,
making up stories. Now it was time for her to take a chance. “I only know that I have to try. I have to break out of my shell. I’ve been living in my comfort zone for too long. We’re seeking adventure, Derek.”

  “She’ll say yes. She has to.” Derek folded up the paper. “How can she resist your charms?”

  “That’s the spirit.” Clover beamed and glided into the house, stopping in the threshold and turning around. “Vivi sent over your potion. Do you want to try on your new identity, Archer?” She winked.

  Derek’s eyes sparkled. “Absolutely! I hope she made me handsome and tall, very tall.” He rubbed his chin. “But I hope she didn’t give me a goatee. I can’t pull off facial hair.”

  “Don’t worry. You’re going to be divine. Vivi creates the best glamors.”

  13

  For the past week, Honora had been out every night with Witches of a Feather. Turns out members of the group met a lot more frequently then they’d first let on. They often did small jobs for Ophelia, which included clandestine deliveries and macabre shopping trips for strange ingredients. But no one ever told her what the ingredients were for, keeping her in the dark. And since Honora wanted to get to know them, she never refused an invitation no matter how little sleep that meant she’d get.

  It was past noon and she sat at her desk with a blood-red beet and berry smoothie, a piece of parchment, and quill pen in front of her. The smoothie was supposed to be cleansing and invigorating, but so far it just turned her lips red and made her stomach rumble. Hopefully the smoothie wouldn’t be too cleansing.

  Her pen scratched across the parchment. She dutifully wrote her latest report, getting the hang of undercover work and wanting to give Corder a clear window into the club members’ personalities and their pecking order.

  Ophelia Lockwood never got her hands dirty. She never touched the items brought to her and never spoke of anything untoward. When they met at Soar, it was only to have fun and drink and socialize. No one ever talked about what they did for a living or their lives outside of the club.