Witch's Brew - Spellspinners 1 (Spellspinners of Melas County)

by Heidi R. Kling

  “Yep.”

  “Orchid! Someone could have been hurt!

  “Yeah. The stupid warlock.”

  “No, the lady with the baby! I had to use magic to let her out the door. And all the human kids? What’s with you lately?”

  “What’s with me?” she sneered. “What’s with YOU, Lily? You were flirting with him. I saw you. And sitting next to him at the counter, I could tell something was going on between you two. Do you know him? Do you know how much trouble you could be in? Me too, now that you’ve made me intervene?”

  “I didn’t know he was a warlock when I started talking to him. He approached me at the counter. He sat by me.”

  “Well, you should’ve got up and left.”

  “Maybe.” I dug into my pocket. “But then I wouldn’t have this.” I curled my hand over the stone and revealed my find. “It’s his.”

  “It looks so much like yours.”

  “I know,” I said.

  Our eyes met, as we pondered the enormity of what this could mean.

  “Does he know you have it?”

  “No. I spun a spell and lifted it while he was distracted by his friend. And the reason I was talking to him. Come over here…”

  I filled her in on everything. The Broken Magic Man, the prophecy, what I found out at the library. And most importantly, what I planned to do about it. Hopefully with her help.

  She freaked out a bit, I mean, it’s all HUGE. But then she came around. “I didn’t realize you were doing a coven task—I thought you were just…I don’t know what I thought. I mean, you don’t even like guys. You would never flirt with a warlock. I hope I didn’t mess anything up for you.”

  That stung in a way that didn’t make sense. I should’ve been flattered; she thought I was above all the human-type urges other girls had. She knew how seriously I took my coven vows.

  Yet, somehow I wished she was wrong.

  That I could be the girl who was flirting. Who let herself be flirted with.

  The witch who could be this warlock’s perfect match.

  “But I do admire your restraint. Or did you even notice how hot he was? And his friend? Did you see those abs? Holy shizz…” She fanned her face with wide expressive eyes. “But never mind that. You know what’s important here. You know they are one hundred percent off limits outside the Stones.”

  It was weird, this sudden role reversal of her lecturing me about the coven rules.

  “The way you were leaning on him like that, and not getting up. I thought you’d fallen into a spell trap I could never save you from.”

  My skin tingled at the memory.

  “Girl!” she squeezed my forearm, the worry seeping out of her sparking eyes. “Thank goodness you got me around. You’d be dead long ago.”

  Just then, the door to the Witch’s Brew swung open, and the warlock emerged, followed by his friend. He glanced over at us on the bench, catching my gaze, before he put his sunglasses back on, concealing those magnetic eyes.

  Without them on me, I felt lonely. Inexplicably lonely. Something had passed between us in there. Something real.

  As I watched him walk down the sidewalk, turn the corner and disappear, I resented the buildings for blocking my view. I decided I would risk everything to see if he was the key to fixing our magic.

  Like Mom prophesized, I couldn’t wait to jump back on the ride.

  Orchid and I hovered over the stolen amulet like a couple of diamond thieves. We cleared off my messy desk and laid the stone flat on the black surface. Nudging it gently with the bottom of a ballpoint pen, I wondered if he had noticed it was gone yet. Then remembering the feel of my palm pressed against his chest as it stung me, I shivered.

  Orchid was studying the unfurled rose paper and nodding seriously. “This has to be what they mean by that code.”

  “Yeah, and look at what I found earlier,” I pointed to my laptop screen. “According to Wikipedia, the English used to refer to the June moon as the rose moon, and look here,” I scrolled down the page with my eyes. “It was also referred to as the flower moon in some instances.”

  Orchid, who possessed the awesome gift of being able to speed read, zoomed ahead of me. “Moons have always been related to witches, and in the early days of Spellspinners, they were magical to warlocks, too. Their marriage ceremonies took place under full moons. And if they fell on a solstice or equinox, the union was felt to be especially blessed.”

  “So what about the art of a broken rose moon?” I asked. “What’s the art? Would this be the art, his amulet? Or would it be something else? You said you saw ink on his arm, right? What if this ‘art’ is a tattoo, or a mark of some sort?”

  I flashed on the warlock, remembered his fingers wrapped around my forearm. “I think I better tell my mom. She’s been so worried. I need to tell her I have a clue.”

  I started toward the door, but Orchid stopped me. “Not yet. Let’s see what we find ourselves first.”

  “Why?”

  “Think how good it would make us look if we, on our own, help save the coven’s magic, Lily. You know how fast we’ll fly up the ranks? No other witch could claim the same honor.”

  “Hmm.” I thought about it for a second, but remembered Iris’ devastated face when she needed my help to revive the baby bird. I wanted to spark her hope.

  “Give us twenty-four hours,” Orchid pressed. “If we can’t do it on our own, we tell Iris.”

  I nodded.

  “Hey, can I see your amulet? I want to compare it to the warlock’s.”

  She was already lifting the back of my hair and reaching for the clasp before I could answer.

  When her fingers touched the silver chain, a flash of light burst through the room. Orchid cursed, and I spun around to face her. “What happened?”

  Instead of my necklace, Orchid’s cupped hands were full of white sand.

  “My amulet!” I combed through the soft sand, searching for the stone. Nothing.

  “What the hell? All I did was touch the clasp.”

  “Oh my goddesses.”

  “What?”

  “The warlock. He must have stolen my amulet, too!” I laughed sardonically. “Well played.”

  “Mad respect there.”

  As the sand fell all over my fluffy purple rug, we both laughed maniacally.

  “The rat! He played me!”

  “Sexy devil played you for a fool.”

  “Did he know I played him before he played me?”

  “No idea.”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  “Oooh, I don’t like that look in your eyes, Lil—you’re looking like me.”

  I flung open my mirrored closet door and started digging through clothes and shoes.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Correction: what are WE up to? I don’t know, but I bet it’ll have something to do with a stealth mission to a certain warlock academy.”

  “We can’t go up there! Are you serious?”

  “You want to get my amulet back?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “How bad do you want it?”

  “Bad enough to end up in one in one of the warlock dungeons? Maybe not that bad.”

  “Dungeons? What do you think this is, feudal Europe? Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  “Fun?”

  “Miss Orchid. Doth thou protest too much?”

  “You want to see that warlock again, don’t you?”

  “No. No way. I don’t want to see that thief!”

  “That thief. Hypocritical much?”

  “Are you defending a warlock over your BFF?” I asked half-jokingly.

  I knew how true it was. I should have seen this coming. I just felt sort of…bad that he would betray me, too.

  Which was ridiculous and insanely lame.

  “Of course not, Lil. I just want you to be honest with me here. Something was going on between you guys at Witch’s Brew that went beyond this whole amulet/rogue ceiling fan thing.”
/>
  “No, no…nothing, really.”

  “Now who doth protest too much?”

  She was right not to believe me. I honestly wanted my amulet back, but I also wanted to see the warlock again. Orchid’s hypothesis was exceedingly, undeniably true; but what I wasn’t sure of was whether I was too proud to admit it, or if I simply wanted to keep my feelings a secret for me and me alone.

  Night Raid

  It was one of those foggy nights in Melas—so dark we needed to keep our swordfingers pointed like flashlights, simply to survive the hike out of the ditch where we left Orchid’s truck. For added concealment, I ran a spell that covered it in a virtual moss for the duration of our mission. A mossy spell, like Cinderella’s enchantment, that came with a time limit.

  We had an hour.

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” Orchid said. But I could tell by the bounce in her combat boots that she was more than happy to oblige my whim.

  Not that it wasn’t incredibly dangerous—even stupider than my hike for euca leaves had been. That time I was lucky. I only ended up asleep on a rock. This time I was endangering Orchid as well.

  Maybe we should turn back.

  Orchid gave me a goofy look. “Are you arguing with yourself, Lil?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Your head tips to the side for one of your personalities, then tips to the other side for your other personality’s retort.”

  “No way.”

  “Way. I can practically make out teeny good witch Lily arguing with teeny bad witch Lily on those cute shoulders of yours.”

  I snorted. Then quickly reverted to worry mode, unnerved by the sound of Orchid’s boots crunching the forest floor. I stumbled over a fallen tree trunk, and fell into a pool of light streaming from what had to be a couple dozen windows.

  “Dang, for a dark magic bunch, they sure don’t care much about their electricity bill.”

  I snickered quietly as Orchid helped me up.

  We stopped behind a wide tree trunk, surveying the grounds. There was a fence around the trimmed-grass property, tall and ominous with pointed iron tips.

  “Must be to keep the vamps out,” I said.

  “Wonder how that’s working for them,” Orchid said with a chuckle.

  As quietly as I could, I unzipped my black backpack. “Here,” I said, and handed Orchid the tube of black lipstick, with which she drew stripes on her angular cheeks. She looked like a black and olive tiger.

  “Your turn.” I painted mine up and down. Zig-zagged.

  “Zebraesque.” She nodded. “Impressive.”

  “Camouflage is no freaking joke, O.” I deadpanned.

  “So what are you expecting to see up there? I mean, you aren’t going to climb up to his window and do the reverse R+J bit, are you?” She clasped her hands over her chest. “Warlock, oh Warlock! Wherefore art thou, Warlock?”

  “Bravo. Your thespian skills have rendered me speechless.”

  She punched my shoulder through the black hoodie I was wearing over black yoga pants, with black Converse high tops.

  She was wearing her black ripped fishnet tights over butt-hugging black shorts, and knee-high black combat boots. On top, she wore a black hoodie, too.

  “We so look like ninjas,” she said.

  “Translation: Awesome.”

  “Translation: Mission SO possible.”

  “Give me your hand.”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Cover up your Orchid.” Clutching her hands, I muttered the same spell I had used up on Black Mountain, concealing our floral scent from potentially curious warlocks.

  “That should do it. Now we simply smell like hot girls. I mean hot ninjas.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that!”

  “I know. It was unlike me. But also true.”

  She snorted, encouraged. “So…where do you think he’s stowing your necklace? In his bedroom?”

  She caught my expression and continued on in the same teasing vein, “Or…maybe in the shower? Maybe we can find their locker room, or whatever it is they have at a Warlock Academy.”

  “Locker room? This isn’t a minor league baseball team.”

  “Oh, right. I’m sure all hundred warlocks living under one roof share one fancy bathroom.”

  “You make a valid point.”

  “Yet again.” She held her palms up.

  “Let’s get serious. If we manage to get onto the property, and manage to, like, lure their guard totems to sleep, we…”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Guard totems?”

  “You know about their watch totems?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you pay any attention in Dark Magic 101?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Like watchdogs, then?”

  “Sort of. Only, like, much more deadly.”

  “This should be fun,” Orchid muttered sarcastically. “Exactly what species of guard totems do the warlocks possess? Or do you even know?”

  “Um. I was thinking they might look like that.”

  On the other side of the iron fence was a pair of dog-like creatures. With thick, yellow foam oozing out of their mouths, they exposed sharp fangs over a deep-throated growl. They looked like traditional bulldogs, but triple the size, and black as night (aside from the glowing mouth foam).

  “I got this,” Orchid said. “Step aside, youngling.” Approaching the gate, her swordfinger shot to life. Aiming it at the dog’s head, she looked ready to shoot to kill.

  “Wait,” I said.

  When she didn’t stop, I pushed her hand down and she shot the dead grass under our feet instead. Instantly it ignited. I blew on the flames, pressing it out.

  “What’d you do that for?” She jumped up and down in pain. Then she kicked me in the shin with one of her hefty steel toes.

  “Oww! You can’t just go killing their pet!”

  “Pet?” She gestured toward the drooling, growling monsters. “Well, you better do something soon, or their psycho master will come out and do something to us!”

  “I got this,” I said methodically, calmly. Walking up to the gate, I stared straight into the dog’s eyes. I mumbled a charm in my mind, one that vibrated from my black-painted lips at a frequency only witches could hear. The first dog cocked his head, as if curious about me. Then the next one followed. Soon, both dogs relaxed under my spell, slowly tipping over until they were sound asleep on their sides.

  Orchid ran up to the fence to join me. “Did you kill them?”

  “No. They’re just asleep. Come on, the spell will only last 30 minutes.”

  I pulled on my hood, and stretched the sleeves over my hands to cushion them from the iron spikes. Scrambling over the fence, I landed with a smooth thump on real-deal warlock academy grounds. Whoa.

  Orchid easily followed, even more gracefully. “I hope you know what you’re doing, girl.”

  Sucking in a cool breath, I took in the sight of the ominous mansion: gothic yet with sharp modern angles, the academy stretched out before me. Its glowing windows beckoned me toward it like a lighthouse.

  “I hope so too,” I said, shivering from both the cool night air and the anticipation. He was here. I felt him.

  Logan

  Logan, Chance, and a bunch of the other guys were hanging out in the “game” room. “Game” because there was no big-screen TV, or stereo blasting the latest music, or even a pool table, like the ones he’d seen at human hangouts in downtown Melas. Instead, at the Warlock Academy, there were old-school board games: Battleship, chess, checkers.

  The thing that made them unique was that the pieces were sort of alive.

  Because of that, you didn’t need to play with another warlock—you just played with the game itself.

  Logan was engaged in a serious round of chess when he felt an odd sensation. A pull. Similar to the one he had felt when he was surfing and was drawn into the Witch’s Brew, to that girl—well, that witch, Lily. The girl he kept trying to press i
nto the back of his mind, filling it instead with methodical games like chess, to keep him in the moment completely. To keep his thoughts hidden.

  He couldn’t believe it when he saw her sitting at the bar in the coffee house. The same girl he’d been thinking about nonstop since he saw her sleeping on the rock. Now, since their conversation, since he saw her enchanting cerulean eyes through their violet disguise; since he felt her heartbeat against his, and the soft velvet of her skin; heard the sound of her voice—he was utterly charmed by her, and mesmerized by the token he’d stolen from her: the amulet that complemented his own.

  He kept it in his pocket; no other place was safe enough.

  And now it was heating up in his pocket. He felt it burning the skin of his thigh. His amulet had burned Lily at the café… Was hers about to do the same to him?

  “Logan, what are you doing, mate?” Jude said over his shoulder, as the chess game put Logan in check.

  He cursed under his breath.

  “Watch it eh?” Jude mock-chastised. Jude cussed like a freaking sailor. “And you were doing so well.”

  “If you can do better, here,” Logan said, sliding the board in front of him. “Be my guest.”

  “Where you going?” Chance said, looking up from his game of Battleship, where, on the other side, an invisible hand guided the blue and red pieces into the tiny ships and holes.

  “I…thought I heard something. I’m going to go check it out.”

  Chance looked at him, eyebrow raised.

  Logan blew him off, not wanting him to follow. “Probably just the wind.”

  Chance glanced out the wide, glass window to the trees in their yard. The air was completely still. Not even a rustling leaf. “Ah yes, that crazy wind,” he said.

  Logan trusted that Chance wouldn’t follow him, but it was clear his friend understood: what Logan had heard was not the wind.

  It was a witch.

  Jude, thankfully, was already getting his ass kicked at chess, and the other boys were otherwise engaged in a game of Monopoly where the banker was more of a stingy miser than Jacob himself.

  Logan quietly slipped out of the room, and ducked into the side wing of the house, where wide, French doors opened onto the patio. With its flat, white concrete, the patio resembled one a normal family might use to barbeque on.