by Linnea West
What would be something that would work if a witch was poor? Vinnie didn’t think money was anything that stood in the way of magic. There were some funky, archaic laws about not being able to directly produce money, but other than that, a witch could use other means to secure wealth. And more? When does a witch need more and more of what? Vinnie’s head felt like it was going to start spinning.
She glanced around the room to try and anchor herself firmly back on earth when a thought hit her. The poem mentioned spells, but maybe it was looking for another kind of magic, like a potion? Did Norhand just want them to make a potion?
Vinnie stood up to snoop around a bit more while Diggy giggled with Thistle. All of the corners had been searched, but Vinnie had an idea. Today, they had been a bit more thoughtful about what they were going to pack instead of just throwing everything into a burlap sack and schlepping it along with them. They still had the sack, but they had been much more selective about the magical objects it held and one was going to come in handy right about now. They had read through the instructions for all of the objects over eggs and bacon that morning for breakfast, so Vinnie actually knew how to work it, hopefully.
Opening the sack, Vinnie rummaged around until she found what she was looking for. It was another object that Lavender had invented and with her future sight, Vinnie wouldn’t have been surprised to learn she had invented it specifically for this moment.
This one looked like a pipe that had a magnifying glass that stuck up from the side that normally went into someone’s mouth. It was called a Magic Matcher and apparently, if Vinnie poured a bit of potion into the bowl end, she could scan the room looking through the glass bit and if that same potion was found here, it would glow green.
If this worked, Vinnie would be more than a little amazed at her sister’s ingenuity. Maybe living with her head up in the clouds did Lavender and everyone else a bit of good sometimes.
The bottle of the potion they had found only had a few drops inside, but the instructions had clearly said that the Magic Matcher only needed one drop to be able to read it. So Vinnie uncapped the bottle and carefully dripped one singular drop into the bowl before holding up the Magic Matcher and slowly circling around.
Everything looked normal until Vinnie swung back to face the fireplace. Strangely enough, there was a faint green glow coming from somewhere next to the fire where Diggy and Thistle were working. Vinnie tip-toed towards it, trying to figure out how the glow could be coming from the wall when she realized it was actually coming from one of the small cauldrons hanging on the wall.
Carefully, Vinnie grabbed the handle of the cauldron and took it off of the nail. As she walked it over to the table, Diggy turned and frowned at her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Vinnie didn’t answer right away, hoping she was wrong. But as she positioned the cauldron under the light, she could see that there was liquid in the bottom of it and through the Magic Matcher, it glowed green. The potion had been brewed in this cauldron.
Chapter Fourteen
“But I swear I didn’t make it,” Thistle cried. “It wasn’t me.”
Vinnie wanted to believe her, she really did. But the potion in the cauldron definitely matched the potion that had been used to turn Plant to stone. They had checked a few times and each time the answer had been the same.
“I want to believe you, but you even said yourself that you are the only person who uses this room,” Vinnie said. “And you seem to be the only one who has the knowledge to make that potion or any potion really.”
Thistle was looking at them with large watery eyes, tears and snot flowing down her face. Vinnie hated to have to keep accusing her of murder, but if she hadn’t done it, who had? She had lead them right to herself without actually admitting she was guilty.
All three of them were back in the room where they had interviewed Thistle the day before, but this time Thistle had a magical barrier around her that Wisteria had put into place. It would keep her from transporting herself anywhere before they could commit her to the jail in the Magical Universe.
Diggy had been quiet this entire time and it made Vinnie feel even worse about the situation. As Vinnie tried to get more information out of Thistle, Diggy sat in a corner of the room, clutching the snow storm in a bottle that she and Thistle had finished making together just before Vinnie had announced what she had found.
At first, Diggy had protested and said there was no way Thistle had been the one to do it, but after Vinnie had calmly laid out all of the clues, all the girl could do was agree. Now she was sitting by herself and looking everywhere but at Thistle.
“You have to believe it wasn’t me,” Thistle said. “I don’t know what I can say to change your mind.”
“At this point it isn’t about what you say,” Vinnie said. “It is about proof. If you can think of something that may be a clue, let us know. You can’t be transported to jail until tomorrow, so the investigation is still open until then.”
“What kind of a clue do you need?” Thistle asked with a sniffle.
“If you can think of anyone else who might use the potion room, that would be a start,” Vinnie said.
Thistle took a deep breath and sunk back into her chair. In a way, Vinnie hoped that somehow she wasn’t the killer. It wasn’t looking good for her as the evidence piled up, but so far Thistle seemed to be one of the only coven witches that seemed genuine and sincere. While the others worked to use magic to distance themselves and make themselves unattainable, Thistle used magic to have fun and enjoy life. That was what magic should be about, Vinnie thought.
Vinnie actually had to leave room to go collect herself. She walked back down the hall to the potion room and went inside, shutting the door behind her. Thistle seemed like such a sweet person, but everything pointed to her. She had admitted that she didn’t like Plant and she was the potion keeper. All of the pieces fit, so why did it make Vinnie feel like she was doing something wrong.
Wasn’t this the way investigating worked? When the clues all fit together in a puzzle and all made sense to point to one person, then of course that person must be guilty. But Thistle just didn’t seem to have the personality needed to kill someone. If she was acting like she was innocent, she was doing a pretty darn good job of it. Thistle hadn’t slipped up once and forgotten to act innocent. And she had seemed appropriately dumbfounded when Vinnie showed her the potion in the cauldron. If she was the only person to use the potion making room, she would have been the one to make the potion.
Vinnie took a deep breath and shut her eyes, thinking about the Halloween Helpers job. It had seemed fine on paper and Vinnie had expected she would be solving problems like family disputes over antique crystal balls or helping a vampire find an appropriate house for their unique needs. Putting a sweet witch behind bars for murdering an awful coven leader was not the kind of thing she wanted to be known for.
But being a Halloween Helper wasn’t the kind of job that can be turned down or accepted. It is passed down in families and once it is passed on to someone, it is their responsibility and death (literal or imminent) or lifelong imprisonment are about the only two choices for getting out of it.
Once again, Vinnie’s thoughts floated towards Lavender and she couldn’t help but wonder where in the world her sister actually was. Now that they had solved the murder, Vinnie vowed to talk through the puzzle with Diggy that night over dinner. Determining the coven leader would take significantly less brain power, so now most of their thinking could return to the first of the four clues they had to solve. Vinnie was afraid she would forget the clue, since Norhand had said it so fast. SO she scribbled out a polite request for a written copy of the clue and hurried down the hall, back to the room with Thistle and Diggy.
Thistle was laying on the bed, curled up in the fetal position hugging a pillow and softly crying into it. A pang of sorrow hit Vinnie square in the heart as she realized she was the cause of this. But she took a breath in and drew herself up tall. If This
tle had done this, and it appeared she had, then she had to face the consequences.
Vinnie turned towards Diggy, who was wearing large headphones and looking everywhere but at Thistle. As Vinnie got closer, she could hear the screamy rock music that Diggy liked blaring out of the headphones. She waved her hand in front of Diggy’s face, catching her attention.
“Can you somehow magic this to Norhand?” she asked once Diggy pulled the headphones off of her ears. “It is a request for a written copy of the first clue.”
“Umm, sure,” Diggy said and Vinnie got the sense that she had asked for something that was possible, but not easy. It was one of those things that a non-magical person just assumed could be done, but since Diggy had agreed, Vinnie figured her niece would find a way to take care of it. Diggy unfolded herself from the chair and looked deep in thought, staring at the piece of paper when Thistle spoke up.
“I can do it,” she said, quietly hiccuping. “Bring it over here and then just picture the person you are sending it to in your mind.”
Diggy looked at Vinnie, who nodded slightly at her. Standing up, Diggy walked over to the bed and handed the scrap of paper to Thistle. The witch set the paper in the palm of her hand and stared at it. A moment later, it disappeared.
“You have got to teach me that,” Diggy said quietly in admiration before realizing she was talking to a witch felon. “Or at least tell me what that spell is called so I can find out about it on my own.”
“It’s just a simple teleportation spell, but you have to focus on the person you are sending it to,” Thistle said.
“You know Norhand?” Vinnie asked. She wondered if his familiarity came from his position. Maybe witches like Lavender and Thistle just tended to know him because they had seen him and not really realized until they had to actually know him.
“No, but you do,” Thistle said. “I was able to focus your energy on it so that your memory of him could direct the message where it needed to go. I hope you don’t need an immediate answer, because doing it that way can take it a bit of extra time.”
“That is the coolest thing I’ve ever heard of,” Diggy exclaimed, unable to keep her childish excitement to herself. “I know that some people can do that, but I’ve never seen it done. Did you just know how to do that naturally?”
“No, it took a lot of practice,” Thistle said. “I read a book about it and then it took me almost a year of practicing to be able to use that skill. It’s hard because to use someone’s energy, they have to be willing and open, so you can’t just use anyone’s. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like walking a tightrope where you have to use someone’s energy without taking it forcefully.”
Vinnie glanced at Diggy, who was watching Thistle with open admiration. Honestly, it did sound pretty cool to a non-magical person, but it looked like it was even more impressive to someone who knew how to do magic, well kind of.
“I can’t leave this room, but if you go back to the potion room, the book I read about it will be down in my library on the bottom shelf on the left side,” Thistle said. “It’s called Using Your Friends for Magic and it is my personal copy, so don’t feel bad about taking it. It isn’t like I’ll be able to take it with me where I am going.”
Diggy jumped up out of her chair and scurried out of the room and down the hall. She was so excited that she had totally forgotten to say thank you, but Vinnie did it for her.
“Thank you, Thistle,” Vinnie said. “This might be the kick in the pants she needs to study more. Diggy likes to do magic, but I’m afraid my sister isn’t the best teacher and I can’t teach her anything. So she ends up frustrated and not wanting to practice.”
“I don’t think she understands how good she has it as an ancestral witch,” Thistle said. “Most of us coven witches spent most of our lives unable to practice until we were discovered.”
Silence fell over the room until Diggy came running back in, clutching a small, yellow book to her chest. Her face was flushed and she looked more excited than she had in a long time. Vinnie smiled to herself, knowing that for at least a little while, Diggy would study.
Then it was time for them to leave. Vinnie felt like she should hug Thistle, but on the other hand, that felt strange. So instead she bid her goodnight and collected Diggy, walking out the door to the travel orb and home.
Chapter Fifteen
Tonight, Vinnie had actually been able to put together a good supper because they had come home earlier. Diggy had been sitting in the kitchen, reading her new book and attempting to use Vinnie’s energy to make magic happen. It wasn’t going well, but surprisingly Diggy was staying upbeat and positive about it. Usually she would have quit trying an hour ago when the second attempt hadn’t worked, but here she was still reading and working away.
Vinnie, on the other hand, had also been working hard but on something a bit different. A homemade chicken pot pie was cooking in the oven, the delicious juices bubbling up over the crust through the star shaped vent holes Vinnie had made on top. It was stuffed full of chicken and vegetables and would warm them right up. October was the first month where it truly started to get cold in Minnesota, so good filling foods like pot pie were needed to warm them up.
Dishing up the pot pie onto their dark blue ceramic plates after it was cooked through, Vinnie carried them over to where Diggy was sitting with her book. It seemed a bit lonely without Lavender but the pot pie did help, at least a little. Diggy grudgingly put her book aside before they both dug into the food. Without really realizing it, they had both skipped lunch.
“I’ve been doing some thinking about the poem,” Vinnie said after a few bites. “It is confusing to me, but I did come up with a theory. I think it has to do with a potion.”
Diggy seemed to think that through while she chewed before a smile brightened her face. Vinnie wasn’t sure if it was the food or what she had said that made her smile.
“That would make sense,” Diggy said. “It mentioned that it wasn’t a spell and didn’t Norhand say the clues were all things we would be using to help our business? Some kind of potion would fit the bill.”
“Yes, but which one?” Vinnie said. “Aren’t there like an infinite amount of potions?”
“Yeah,” Diggy said, the smile seeming to ooze down and off of her face. “There are like tons of them. How are we supposed to know which one Norhand needs?”
Vinnie pushed some carrots and potatoes around her plate with her fork as she thought about it. She didn’t really know anything about potions, but she knew it would be something to help them, so it probably wouldn’t have a super specific use.
Just then, a piece of parchment appeared floating in the middle of the table while a disembodied voice spoke.
“Here is your clue,” Norhand’s voice said. “I realized I forgot to give you part of it. Here’s the whole thing.”
Norhand sounded like he didn’t actually want to give them the entire clue, and Vinnie wondered what that was all about. She snatched the piece of paper out of the air and read it.
Spells are useful for a witch
And sometimes they go off without a hitch
But for those times when you need more
This will work even if you pour.
When a problem that you face
Has become a bit of a race,
Use this to help you to solve the case.
Make sure you have plenty of ________.
Vinnie read the clues out loud twice, making sure to slow down when she read the new part. It still didn’t mean anything to her, although she had a feeling that she was on the right track with the potion part. When Norhand had originally said the clue, she thought he had said “poor” like a witch that didn’t have any money, but it turned out he actually meant “pour.” That would make sense that it was a potion.
“What does it make you think of?” Vinnie asked after sharing her ideas with Diggy.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Diggy said, her face screwed up in confusion. “But I feel like
I should know what it is.”
Vinnie stared at the poem, rereading it in her mind a few more times. Then she came up with an idea. It wasn’t the best idea, but it might help narrow it down.
“Diggy, I’m going to name other words that rhyme with face, race, and all that. The last word of the clue has to rhyme with them. You just tell me if I hit on something that makes sense to you.”
Diggy nodded and sat up a little straighter. Vinnie started shouting out words that came to mind.
“Lace! Vase! Face, no wait that one is already in there.”
Diggy shook her head from side to side and Vinnie tried to think of more rhyming words.
“Umm, Erase! Base! Trace!”
Vinnie started to wrack her brain for more when Diggy jumped up out of her chair.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “What was that one?”
“Erase? Trace? Base?”
“Base?” she asked, a quizzical look on her face before it cleared away. “Base! The base potion is something we will use a lot of. That’s it!”
Diggy jumped up and raced out of the kitchen. Vinnie took one longing look at the last, delicious piece of pot pie left on her plate and raced after her without finishing it. Diggy was making a beeline down the stairs for her mother’s workshop. The workshop took up most of the basement and there were different areas for different activities. The far wall was where she did her inventing, so a long table full of tools and spare parts lined the wall. In one of the corners was a small fireplace with a cauldron over it. Shelves of ingredients for potions lined the walls and a small table stood in front of the fire with a book on top. That was Lavender’s potion making area.
Vinnie didn’t come down into the workshop very often, mostly because she didn’t want to accidentally give herself warts or something terrible while cleaning up things she didn’t know much about, but she was a little surprised at how tidy the potion area was. All of the bottles on the little shelves were labeled and seemed to have a specific spot on the shelf. Nothing higgledy-piggledy like Vinnie would have expected. She couldn’t help but smile a little at how her sister could still manage to surprise her when she wasn’t even around.
