Witching Your Life Away

by Constance Barker

  “In theory,” Aiden insisted patiently, though it was clear from the color in his cheeks that there was a personal offense taken from Chloe’s tone, “we can simply use the regional structure of the magic currently occupying the space as a framework for additional magic. It wouldn’t have to directly interfere with the caves.”

  “That would require constant upkeep,” Avery said. “Even if we can come up with something that’s compatible with all of us… there’s no way we can commit the kind of magic needed on a constant basis.”

  “We may not need to if we can resolve the issue entirely while under the protection of the ward,” Aiden said.

  Bailey glanced apologetically at Ryan, but found that he was busy taking furious notes as they spoke. Maybe he felt like it was all he could contribute.

  Then again, who knew when all of this was going to start slipping away from them? Until they could pin down the exact nature of the glamour, no one could say for sure that it wouldn’t.

  “We’re not letting anyone work directly or indirectly with the magic of the Caves,” Chloe said sharply as the argument progressed to various ways it might be safely accomplished. “That’s the end of it.”

  Aiden bristled visibly. “This is a question of protecting the Caves,” he said, his voice rising a bit. This was going to escalate quickly.

  Bailey gritted her teeth, trying to determine if she should step in—and if so, on which side.

  “And for that matter, the people of this town,” Aiden continued, “and possibly this world. If we have such a tool available, we should use it.”

  “Trust a wizard to talk like that,” Frances grunted. “Why ignore power when it’s right in front of you?”

  “Of course I don’t mean it like that,” Aiden groaned. “But we need—”

  “Everyone stop,” Bailey shouted.

  To her surprised, they did. All eyes turned to her.

  She swallowed, and cleared her throat, and turned to Aiden. “I don’t know if it’s the best idea or not. It seems risky and we need to quickly assess the risk of working with or alongside the magic that supports the barrier.” She turned to Chloe as she opened her mouth to argue and held up a finger to forestall whatever she was about to say.

  “Fortunately,” Bailey said quickly, and little louder than she meant to, “we have two resident experts on that very subject. Right? Before we turn this idea down out of hand, we should talk with the Crones. If anyone will know how to do it safely or if it can be done, it would be them.”

  Chloe’s teeth clicked when they shut, and she folded her arms. But, she was considering it. She glanced to Aria and Frances, and Aria nodded helpfully while Frances grudgingly shrugged.

  “It can’t hurt to ask,” Aria suggested when no one spoke.

  “Rita knows more about the Caves’ magic than any of us,” Frances admitted. “She may not give any of that knowledge up without some convincing, but she likely has it to give.” She cut her eyes at Aiden. “But she’ll shut you down if you so much as mention that it was his idea.”

  Aiden smoldered politely, at least. Avery merely looked uncomfortable and unwelcome. Chloe’s eyes softened though. “I’ll say it was my idea,” she said. “I can convince her, and more importantly Anita. They’re going to be irritated that we’re bothering them again so soon.”

  “So you’ll go?” Bailey asked.

  Chloe snorted. “Oh, I’ll go. And so will you. I’m not going to talk to them alone. Plus, Anita has a special liking for you, though she won’t say why. It might soften her up a little.”

  That was mildly disturbing. Anita could see the future, it was her particular gift, but she never spoke about what she saw. She’d said before that there was little point; but Bailey suspected that it was more complicated than that. Anita did and said things for seemingly inscrutable reasons—but they gained some context if you knew that she could see the future. Mysterious context, but purpose all the same.

  “Alright,” Bailey said. “Then we should go as soon as possible. It won’t be enough to keep people away from the Caves, so there’s no telling when the next incident will occur, or if we could stop it.”

  “Agreed,” Chloe said. She turned, and retrieved a coat from a hook behind the counter, shrugging it on as she returned. She stopped at the door as Bailey followed her, and turned toward Aiden. “I know you mean well. I apologize for raising my voice.”

  “As do I,” Aiden said. “And… thank you.”

  Chloe nodded, gave Bailey a momentary look loaded with knowing, and then turned to leave. Bailey bit her lip and shared a last glance with Aiden, before she turned to follow her. Suddenly, though, she wondered at precisely why her mother wanted her to go along, and whether she’d been entirely honest about it.

  Chapter 13

  Bailey walked with Chloe in silence up the sidewalk, toward the Caves. It was misty still, and chilly, and both of them kept their hands in their pockets as they made the journey.

  Chloe radiated concern, and something else… maybe hurt, or confusion. More than likely, Chloe could tell what Bailey was feeling as well. It was a mix of determination and worry. Not all of it for what was going on in Coven Grove and what had been hidden from them.

  One of them had to break the silence, though, and Bailey had questions on her mind.

  “I want to know more about the—”

  “Are you seeing Aiden?” Chloe asked at the same time.

  They stopped at the same time as well. Bailey clenched her jaw unconsciously, and when she realized she was doing it she took a breath and relaxed. There was no use lying about it—Chloe would be able to tell. “I am,” she said quietly. “Or… at least I was. I’m not really sure where we are right now. We had an argument.”

  “Something he wanted you to do for him?” Chloe asked.

  “What?” Bailey shook her head. “It was a trust issue. Things I think he isn’t telling me.”

  “He’s keeping secrets, then,” Chloe said. She sighed. “That’s what they do, you know.”

  “It isn’t like that,” Bailey sighed. She started walking again, and Chloe did as well. They could argue about this while they moved. “Aiden, he… he has visions. Prophetic dreams. But he doesn’t remember them entirely when he wakes up.”

  Chloe made a small sound of comprehension. “That’s why you wanted to know about dream magic.”

  “I thought that if I could see his dreams, we could compare notes afterward,” Bailey admitted. “He didn’t want me to.”

  After a moment, Chloe nodded. “He’s probably right. Visions of the future are… complicated. It’s a private sort of gift. One meant for the seer, not for those of us that don’t get them naturally.”

  “He said the same thing,” Bailey said. “But then why would he even get them?”

  “It’s an old gift,” Chloe told her, “one that our ancient ancestors both deified and vilified. Sometimes, the visions can bring more harm than good in the wrong hands.”

  “I wouldn’t have misused the knowledge,” Bailey shot back. How was Chloe siding with Aiden on this?

  “Not intentionally, no,” Chloe said. “But… it’s not as simple as all that. Just knowing the future can change it. The seer is responsible for parsing out what they’re seeing and making the precise choices to alter the future, if they can. Like Anita Hope; everything she does or says means something. But she can’t just tell us what’s to happen, or we might make it worse.”

  “It sounds an awful lot like you’re suggesting I forgive Aiden,” Bailey mused.

  Chloe shot her a look. “The two of you… it just isn’t meant to be, Bailey. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”

  “Like you and my father?”

  “That was a mistake,” Chloe said, and then sighed as hurt stung Bailey’s heart. “I didn’t mean it to sound like I regret having you.”

  “Didn’t you, though?” Bailey asked, as the little heart coal caught a breeze of buried anger and flared. “Why else would you have giv
en me up?”

  “You know why,” Chloe said softly.

  “Right, of course.” Bailey laughed mirthlessly. “Because my father might come back and use me, right? Why would you even fall for a man who might do that in the first place?”

  “He sang to me,” Chloe whispered. There was so much emotion behind it; a sudden swell of regret, and sadness, and even an old, worn out kind of love. Bailey almost stumbled when she felt it.

  “He… literally sang to you?” Bailey asked.

  Chloe nodded, and swept a lock of hair behind her ears as she glanced at Bailey.

  Bailey swallowed, and checked her emotions. But she couldn’t help wondering about more. “How did you meet?”

  Her mother didn’t answer right away. She was momentarily lost to Bailey’s senses behind a swirl of nostalgia and wonder. “He came to town to see the Caves,” she said. “We were both young. I was sixteen, and he was eighteen. It was the Summer, and I was working at the bakery for the first time.”

  “He came in to get coffee and something to eat and we flirted a little. My gift hadn’t really woken up entirely at that point, so I didn’t realize that I couldn’t have read his thoughts—it came and went on its own.” She smiled, and then rolled her eyes as she shook her head slowly. “He was handsome, and charming, and easy to talk to. He told me he was going to visit the Caves later, and I wanted to impress him, of course, so I told him that I’d been there lots of times. He asked me to show him around.”

  “So that he could find out more about them?” Bailey asked. “I mean, as a wizard?”

  “I don’t know,” Chloe admitted. “I still don’t, though I can’t imagine he didn’t know their nature at the time. He’d been training since he was very small. We witches start training as our magic begins to blossom, but wizards often start as children, learning the discipline necessary to work their kind of magic later on.”

  “I took him to the caves, and he loved the way our voices sounded, echoing around the inner chambers. He started to… sing. Blue River, if you can believe it.” Chloe chuckled. “It was corny, and embarrassing, but… he had a beautiful voice. And it was clear he was singing to me, not just around me.”

  She shrugged. “I’d never been with a boy before. I was a lanky kind of girl, unsure of myself and… here was this handsome young man paying me attention. A stranger from out of town. Of course I was enchanted. Figuratively, I mean. At least, I’m pretty sure.”

  “I get it,” Bailey whispered. “He made you feel special. It was adventure.”

  “In a white suit coat and a red a tie,” Chloe agreed. She hugged her coat closer to her as they turned off the sidewalk to take the path toward the ridge, and Bailey followed. “He asked me to have dinner with him. I snuck out of the house to meet him. Father would have tanned my hide if he’d known. Ah… we had dinner, and then we went to the beach and… well… he left a week later.”

  “So he didn’t know about me at all,” Bailey said.

  “I don’t know,” Chloe told her. “By the time he left, he’d… told me about himself. That he knew I was part of the coven here, or would be one day. He apologized for not telling me sooner but he claimed that he’d been so curious about me—me myself, not me the witch—that he’d been afraid.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I… I told him to leave,” Chloe said quietly. “And to never come back.”

  “How long before you knew? About me, I mean?”

  “Three weeks.”

  Bailey had other questions, the sort she might have if she discovered that she were suddenly pregnant but she didn’t ask them. There were more pressing concerns, and they were almost to the Caves. “You told me before that my father might return… that he might try to use me to re-make the Throne of Medea.”

  Chloe nodded. “It is the origin of the taboo, at least. Presumably, it would take a particular kind of person to actually bring the Throne back. Not just born of a witch and wizard, but actually possessing both kinds of magic. At least, that’s the legend. In practice, it’s never happened, and it is an old, old tale.”

  “What if,” Bailey asked, pausing as they came within sight of the Caves, “we end up needing it?”

  Chloe’s eyes widened, and she looked horrified at the suggestion. “What exactly are you asking?”

  “What I was going to ask before,” Bailey said. “I want to know more about the Throne. What it was for, how it worked. It made us all stronger, didn’t it?”

  “Not without a high price,” Chloe said. “Did Aiden put you up to this? Has he mentioned it?”

  “No,” Bailey said quickly. “He hasn’t said anything about it, I don’t even know that he knows what it is.”

  “That doesn’t mean he isn’t thinking about it,” Chloe pointed out. “It could be the whole reason he’s here.”

  “I don’t think so,” Bailey said, frowning. “He’s been focused on repairing the Caves. But I’ve been mulling over the idea of the Throne of Medea. The Caves are failing, whether we admit it or not. There’s very likely a faerie infiltrator here, in our town, on our side of the border. We know that we can’t defeat a faerie one on one. So… maybe we need to rethink all of it.”

  “All of what?” Chloe asked warily.

  Bailey thrust a hand out toward the exposed rock of the Seven Caves. “Of the caves, of the way our magic works—about how we’re going to fight this fight. You said that the wizards were sitting on the spell to remake the throne, right?”

  Chloe stared at her. “No,” she said firmly. “The answer is no.”

  “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask,” Bailey said helplessly, though it was likely Chloe did know, gleaning it even accidentally from her thoughts.

  “I do know, and I’ll tell you my answer now before you’re foolish enough to ask it,” Chloe said tersely and then turned to head toward the Caves.

  Bailey grabbed her arm, though, and tugged her to a stop. “I want you to find my father, and tell him about me. I want to meet him. And… I want to know about the spell to remake the throne.”

  Chapter 14

  Piper pressed her hands to her forehead and tried to massage away the pounding headache that was throbbing from somewhere deep inside her skull. She’d asked Gavin to call in sick to work this morning, but he hadn’t wanted to. They were living paycheck to paycheck as it was, he’d said; he couldn’t afford to lose the hours. He’d call and check on her.

  Well he hadn’t called yet.

  Riley had escalated from yelling at her to throwing things at her. He was a bad shot, at least—twice, he’d thrown pictures he managed to pull off of shelves that were set into the wall, the little bandit, climbing onto a kitchen chair when she’d turned her back for just three minutes to change William.

  After the first picture shattered, William had been startled and started crying. For half an hour he’d been at it, while Riley got his hands on another frame—while Piper was cleaning up the glass from the first one—and thrown that right over her head. He’d now learned, “leave alone,” and “go way”, which she translated to “leave me alone” and “go away.”

  This situation was spinning out of control, and she just needed five minutes—five measly minutes—to herself to take a few deep breaths and pretend her life wasn’t slowly rotating around her until it was upside down, pouring everything out onto the sidewalk.

  What she needed was to go out. That was it. Out of the house, away from the growing claustrophobia. A morning walk would do them all some good. Maybe down by the beach. The boom of the surf would drown out some of these thoughts she was having.

  It was chilly out, so she bundled William up tightly, and after a brief struggle and some promises of treats and even a toy she managed to wrangle Riley into his heavy coat as well. She checked to make sure she had her bracelet—silly, it was still on.

  She was almost to the door before she realized she hadn’t packed a diaper bag. With a groan, she told Riley to hold still for a moment in the
stroller so she could grab the bag, check that she had extra diapers, and a bottle of formula in case her milk was low later on or William was extra hungry. Her bracelet?

  Oh, right, she was still wearing it. Good.

  “Alright,” she said when she stuffed the diaper bag into the stroller’s undercarriage, “all set. Ready?”

  Riley was too busy kicking at the stroller’s guard to answer her. He’d probably just tell her to go away in any case.

  She left the house, made it down to the sidewalk before she turned, took the stroller back up and made sure that the door was locked. Was she forgetting something?

  William was strapped to her chest, she had the diaper bag, her purse, the bracelet…

  “I’m a mess, kids,” she muttered, and shook her head as she pushed the stroller back to the sidewalk and headed down the street toward town. Already she felt a little better breathing the crisp air, her nerves calmed.

  She pointed them toward the ocean, and mused about what Gavin might think if he got home and none of them were there.

  Chapter 15

  Rita’s face was impassive when they told her what Aiden had suggested. The subject of Bailey’s father and the Throne of Medea had been tabled for now—Chloe wouldn’t even consider it, and Bailey had no way to force her to talk about it any further. So they had come to the caves, requested entry, and been let in, only to face Rita’s growing displeasure as they explained.

  When they’d laid it all out, Rita worked her jaw and lips as though chewing something. Then she shook her head. “Not a chance. Figure something else out.”

  “What?” Bailey asked, shocked. They’d made their case, she thought, soundly. This was a chance to protect the whole town, and Aiden was confident it would work.

  “Come up with another plan,” Rita said, enunciating each word carefully, as if Bailey literally hadn’t understood her.

  “Rita,” Chloe said patiently, “just consider for a moment that—”