Either it rubbed off on everyone else or they took pity on her. After lunch, Paris went outside to his backyard and warded the area. He dug up some badminton rackets from his attic and-
Seriously? Badminton rackets? She was never going to let him forget that.
At least she got the chance to burn off some excess energy by messing around with Callie and Henri. They were all equally awful at it, lunging and dodging for the shuttlecock and missing more often than not. The only thing they excelled at was making all kinds of innuendos and dirty jokes about the shuttlecock, all three of them snorting and guffawing with laughter at their horrible grade school mentality.
It was the most fun Jade had had in a long time. The air was cool and crisp and she felt red-cheeked and a little winded after all her inactivity over the last week. Callie and Henri were joking back and forth with each other, locked in a battle of double entendres regarding their boyfriends and the shuttlecock. It all had Jade thinking, again, wow, I really could live here.
By the time sunset came around, the sky blazing orange and pink, she felt calmer than she had in days, despite the circumstances. Callie and Henri headed off, Callie promising to see them shortly at her house so they could borrow her cat, and Henri saying he’d see them both tomorrow.
Jade and Paris drove back out to the nature preserve, Paris easily navigating back to where they had buried the mirror. She used her phone to verify the sun was well and truly set, since they couldn’t see it directly with the tree coverage. Paris dug quicker than before, the ground softer from previously being disturbed. It occurred to her on the car ride back to Callie’s that she’d never asked what the cat was for.
“We’re not killing the cat, right?” Jade blurted.
The heavy weight of the scrying mirror and cloth bag was on her lap, inside a garbage bag to keep the loose dirt contained. The everydayness of Paris suggesting a household garbage bag to preserve cleanliness had struck her as funny and so simple. Of course they could put a scrying mirror in a garbage bag, he’d told her. Why couldn’t they?
It had just seemed so… Normal.
“Of course we’re not killing the cat,” he said, like the notion was completely absurd. “We just need it to look in the mirror first.”
“Oh, of course,” her tone was sarcastic.
He turned to face her at a red light, slightly hindered by the slight bucket seats of his car and the steering wheel. “After we prep the mirror, we can’t be the first to look at it or it will steal our soul.”
She laughed at his ominous tone, figuring he was having a joke at her expense. “Right,” she huffed.
He frowned. “I’m serious.”
Jade stared at him, watching him for a smile or a hint of mischief and felt her own smile fade at his stillness. “Holy shit you are serious. Fuck me. Okay, don’t look at the mirror. Got it.” She shivered at the implication, not wanting to ever find out if it was really true or some kind of urban witch legend.
“Cats have always been close to witches, guardians of the underworld, associated with Hecate. She’s the closest thing we have to a goddess. We make a scrying mirror and then a cat will look into it first. After that, it’s safe for us to use.”
“So, how many people do you lose to scrying mirror incidents yearly?” she asked, wondering if there was some kind of statistical recordkeeping for witchcraft related accidents.
“What? None,” Paris replied, eyes looking forward as he drove.
“Seriously? With temptation like that, no one has done it?” She was flabbergasted, assuming it was like the warnings on everything else in life. Make it idiot-proof and someone will make a better idiot.
“We don’t teach scrying to children. Everyone who does it is an adult. They know better than to look.”
“So there’s no kind of Darwin awards for those witches that just screw the rules, muck it up and get injured? Or dead?”
“I’d like to think we’re a bit more civilized than that,” Paris said wryly.
“So does everybody,” she replied with a shrug.
They arrived at Callie’s place, an older-styled duplex which reminded Jade of the 1940s. Stairs climbed over the car park and onto the patio where the front door was located. The house was painted a deep purple that conveyed the feeling of happy-welcome-frivolity all at once.
It suited Callie well, Jade thought, as Callie swung open the glass-paneled front door, her blond hair swaying with her movement.
“Hey, long time no see.” Callie joked. “I put out some food for later but I figured you’d want to get the mirror done first.”
Paris had taken the mirror from Jade as they left the car and he carried it to the kitchen, to a small island that was set apart from the rest of the area - clearly Callie’s witchcraft station. The island featured runes and wards sketched into the surface and also carried a beat-up, well-used air which the rest of the kitchen lacked.
Paris felt along the bag for a moment and when he pulled the mirror out, it was reflective side down. He kept it like that the entire time, polishing it with a cotton cloth. After that, he produced the hex bag, this time seemingly not caring if he touched the contents or not. There was no longer a foul stench accompanying the hex bag and Jade remembered Paris saying the smell would dissipate as the magic did. Callie took the hex bag items and put them in a large stone mortar, setting them on fire with the touch of a match.
“You shouldn’t use your magic to set the contents aflame,” Callie said, looking over at Jade while the small fire burned in the mortar. “It’s cleaner to use a match.”
“Why?”
“If there’s any lingering magic, this will kill it. Using your own magic just infuses it with more.”
Callie then started making kiss-kiss sounds and calling for a cat named Stuart. After a few minutes, she gave a frustrated sigh and then went over to the electric can-opener on the counter. She ran it for five seconds and, almost immediately, the fattest cat Jade had ever seen lumbered into the room. Callie bent over and hefted him into her arms, putting significant strength into it.
“Jesus that’s a fat cat,” Jade blurted.
Callie looked scandalized. “He’s big boned. And he has a lot of fur. He’s really fluffy,” she said, indicating his über-fluffy multi-colored coat. Jade met Paris’ eyes and he shook his head minutely, seemingly warning her not to get into the fat-cat debate with Callie.
Stuart eyed Jade in that way cats have of judging and dismissing with their eyes in one, simple look of disdain.
“Ready?” Paris asked.
Callie nodded and placed Stuart down on her witch-counter as Paris flipped the mirror over, reflective side up. All three of them were looking askance, but Jade could see out of the corner of her eye, Stuart went directly to the mirror, towards his own reflection. The fur on his neck stood up and he puffed himself out, making him look even grander. He gave a sharp cat-hiss, teeth bared, before deftly jumping from the countertop. He then scowled back at Callie, cat-betrayal written all over his little, furred face.
“Sorry, Stu,” Callie said, reaching for a can of tuna and opening it quickly.
Stuart hopped up on the counter and ignored Callie until she put the tuna in front of him. She dropped a quick pet on his head and he butted up into it. Apparently, all was forgiven.
Paris leaned over the mirror, Callie and Jade flanking him on either side. He took a deep breath and then said lowly, “Show me.”
And nothing happened.
Jade fidgeted a bit. “Um, this isn’t going to be like a tea leaf reading where you’re telling me you see a tree or a number four and all I see is a bunch of soggy, wet leaves, is it?”
Paris turned to her, aggravation on his face. “Patience.”
She leaned back a bit so she could see Callie on the other side of Paris. Callie quirked her lips at Jade and mouthed the word, ‘patience,’ her face going comically serious for a moment before her eyes started dancing with humor. Jade snickered and looked back at the mirro
r.
So far, all she saw was the ceiling of Callie’s kitchen.
Then it shifted.
She started slightly, a shock of fear hitting her deep in the gut. It was like at the Chinese restaurant when the mirror rolled and shimmered, right before she’d been attacked. She flinched back slightly, fingers digging into Paris’ forearm.
“It’s fine. It’s working,” he said lowly, his tone reassuring. She managed to un-claw her fingertips from his arm.
The surface of the mirror wobbled and then clouded over, like foggy glass on a cool, damp day. Then, a vague shape appeared in the mirror, though it was obscured and strange, like she was seeing it from very far away.
“That’s the Covenstead,” Callie said and Paris made a sound of agreement.
“Yeah, but we already knew it was someone in the Coven,” Jade said, a little disappointed.
“Yes, we knew it was someone in the Coven, but not everyone works or visits the Covenstead on a regular basis. For the mirror to show us this, our unknown witch must spend a lot of time there. Probably works there.”
“So, that’s good, right? That narrows it down?” Jade asked.
Paris studied the mirror carefully. “Yes.”
As she watched, there was something else along the edge of the mirror, faint and wobbly. She studied it and thought it could be a rune, like the kind she’d been using in the wards. Yes, definitely a demonic rune of some sort. She tapped her finger next to the mirror.
“Is this indicative of this person making a demon deal?” she asked.
Paris frowned. “I can’t see what you’re looking at. What do you see?”
She glanced over at him and Callie, both of their expressions open and curious. “I see a rune here, like the ones I’ve been using in the wards. You don’t see it?”
Callie shook her head. “I can’t see anything.”
Paris looked closer. “I can tell something’s there, but I can’t tell what.”
Jade looked back. It seemed rather clear to her and she wondered if it was because she wanted to see it or…
“Maybe it’s like your mother’s grimoires. I can see it because I’ve been touched by demon magic. You can see it a little bit,” she said to Paris, “because you’ve worked the wards. But Callie hasn’t done anything so she can’t see it at all.”
Paris made a low hmmm sound, like he was agreeing with her.
Jade looked back at the mirror, looking for anything else. She wasn’t sure how long this kind of thing lasted or what other things she would see. As she stared, she thought she could make out another shape, along the edge. Long and angular, it was like an obelisk with smooth sides and a pointed, pyramid-shaped end.
“Here,” she said, again tapping at the edge of the mirror. “What’s this?”
Paris leaned in closer, as did Callie, but from their faces they couldn’t see it.
“You don’t see this one either?” Jade asked, already knowing what the answer would be.
Callie shook her head and Paris turned to look at her. “What is it?”
Jade leaned towards the mirror. “It’s like a long shape, with a pointed end.” As she spoke, the mirror started to unfog, becoming clearer and she could see bits of Callie’s ceiling poking through.
“What’s going on? Is that it?” Jade asked.
“It’s fading. Scrying mirrors don’t last long,” Paris said quietly.
Jade’s eyes tried to flick over everything all at once, trying to take in as much as she could, see if there was anything else she was missing. In the center of the mirror, overlapping the image of the Covenstead, she thought she could see the beginning of something else; a shape, a letter… Something she couldn’t decipher. She leaned closer, seeing a bit of her own reflection on the part of the mirror that was completely clear again.
She tilted her head, heard Paris ask her a question just as she also noticed, like before she was attacked in the restaurant, her reflection didn’t move.
She reared back, pushing away from the mirror just as a set of claws, long, silver and sharp, erupted from the surface and swiped where her face had been. Callie screamed in surprise and Jade felt Paris pull at her good arm to yank her back even as she brought her cast down hard on the surface of the mirror, next to the claw, cracking it into pieces.
The three of them stood stock still for a moment, staring at the broken shards of the mirror in front of them.
Nothing else happened.
Jade looked up sharply at Paris who stared at the mirror and then to Jade.
“Good reflexes,” he said, nodding his head toward her cast.
She cradled it a bit in her good arm, sore from the amount of force she’d put behind her strike.
“Thanks.”
“Is that what happened before?” Callie asked, her brown eyes large and wide. “When you were attacked?”
“Yeah,” Jade said, still unable to take her eyes off the shards. “There was this moment where the reflection didn't match what I was doing. It was like that before and then… It happened. I saw it happen this time and I just reacted.”
“It’s likely a combination of Callie’s house not being warded and also the mirror being tied to the witch that called the demon. It made a convenient portal,” Paris said. He took the cloth bag that the scrying mirror had been in previously and started sweeping the broken glass into it, using the sleeve of his shirt. “We should bury this just in case, put some runes over it for any magic that lingers.”
“You can bury it out back,” Callie said with a jerk of her head. “I’ve an area back there that’s all fallow ground. I can’t get anything to take there. It’s probably just been overused.”
“And then we’ll head over to the Covenstead?” Jade asked.
“It’s late, hardly anyone will be there. I suggest we take the evening and head over first thing tomorrow morning.” Paris suggested.
Jade waffled. On the one hand she wanted to head over right now, shake some trees and see what fell out. But she could see the logic behind what Paris was saying. If it was people she was interested in, she had a better chance tomorrow once everyone showed up for work. Then she could finally get Paris to hand over some files and start meeting suspects to hopefully glean a vibe from them.
Jade also had this strange sense that, like the grimoires she’d found and the scrying mirror just now, she’d be able to somehow tell who’d been working demon magic because she’d been touched by it herself.
She bit her lip and finally agreed. “Okay. Tomorrow.”
Paris nodded and headed out the back door of the kitchen to Callie’s tiny yard.
Callie put her hand on Jade’s arm to get her attention. “Wanna eat something?” she asked hesitantly.
“I could always eat,” Jade joked shakily, still caught up in thinking about the most recent attack. Callie gave a soft chuckle at Jade’s answer and led her into the dining room where she’d set out enough appetizer-type food to be eaten as a meal.
“I hate cooking but I like small food, so appetizers work well for me,” Callie said with a smile.
“Small food is always cute,” Jade said noncommittally.
“Plus you can eat a whole bunch of it and then later on when someone says, ‘oh hey, did you eat?’ you can say, ‘just bits and bites.’ You can completely avoid the guilt.”
It was so obvious that Callie was trying to make Jade feel at home and comfortable that Jade couldn’t help but offer her a tiny smile. She grabbed some of the pita chips and dip, sighing in pleasure when she took a bite and found out it was some kind of spinach-cheese dip.
“I know, right?” Callie said, taking a big bite. “It’s like they finally found a way to make spinach taste good - put it with a bunch of cheese and make it a dip. Genius. I’d marry the person that thought of it if I could.”
By the time Paris came back inside, Callie and Jade were waxing poetically about dumplings, plum sauce and dry ribs as well. Until Jade said, “I’d marry the person that inven
ted nachos.”
Callie groaned in delight. “Oh my God. Nachos. I would’ve made them myself but they actually take preparation and assembly. We’ll have to go out after this is all over and get some. With extra jalapeños. And guacamole.”
“I’m not a fan of the guac,” Jade said with shrug.
Callie clasped her heart dramatically and gasped. “What?” she asked, horrified.
“It’s mushy and green. That’s weird.”
Paris joined them at the tail end of their conversation and made a strange face at both of them as he grabbed a plate and stocked it with food. “When will you get over this strange obsession with appetizers?” he asked Callie.
“Never!” she cried dramatically, shaking her fist in the air and Jade snorted a laugh as she ate another dumpling.
She could feel the tension and anxiety of the evening starting to drain out of her as they ate around Callie’s table, using their fingers to serve themselves and paper towels for napkins. Callie brought out some soda and the entire affair felt comfortable and easy. It was obvious that Callie and Paris had been friends for years. They had simple affection for and camaraderie with one another - easily maintaining light conversation. She felt sorry when dinner was over and Paris suggested they leave for his place, calling it a night.
Jade froze up a bit in surprise when Callie lurched forward at the door and pulled her into an impromptu hug. Her tiny frame was full of surprising strength as she gave Jade a solid squeeze. Jade was able to relax into it after a moment and tentatively raised her hands and patted awkwardly at Callie’s back. Callie hugged Paris next, their embrace much more familiar and familial - quick and fierce.
“I’ll meet you guys at the Covenstead tomorrow, okay?” Callie checked, making eye contact with both of them.
Paris nodded. “We’ll be there.”
On the drive home, Jade didn’t know how she was going to sleep that night. She was anxious to get to the Covenstead and start checking people out - seeing if she could figure out who wanted her power. Then maybe this whole thing could be finished and she could see if she would settle into coven life.
Trial by Fire (Covencraft Book 1) Page 22
