Murder Casts Its Spell

by Margaret C. Morse

  My arms and shoulders throbbed, and I panted for breath. I slid onto the floor, my back against the wall.

  Jake squatted in front of me. "We need to talk."

  I wiped sweat off my face. "You said you weren't animating her except to walk."

  "I didn't give her fighting powers."

  "Then—"

  Jake sank down cross-legged. "The magic came from you."

  "But was it from me or Ernie's spell?" I protested.

  Jake felt inside his backpack until he found a paper towel, which he handed me. "Magic happened. I don't know if it's yours or Ernie's."

  I scrunched the towel into a wad. "I need answers. How long are you going to take?"

  "I understand your stress. If your magic has just manifested, it's a big change. I have to be careful. You'll be like a child first coming into her power."

  Confused by the mannequin's reaction to me, I was scared. "You're saying I'm as dangerous as a child who can't control her magic?"

  "Yes. You are what you do."

  I jumped ahead of him as he walked to the door. "Don't put me off with cryptic non-answers."

  He adjusted the backpack, which bulged outward like a pregnant belly, on his shoulder. "For ten years, I've pulled my students out of all their magical disasters. We're going to the barn."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  FRIDAY AFTERNOON

  In the backyard, Jake picked up the mannequin. The fall had caved in her right temple. Vidoc exploded out of the house and gazed at her, his eyes wide and his mouth tight. He traced the damage with his fingers.

  He charged toward me. "You ruined her."

  My face flamed. He was being idiotically unfair. "Jake told me to toss her out the window. Of course, she got damaged. What did you expect?"

  "I didn't know you had such a dark soul."

  "Why did you make her so beautiful if you knew she was going to be banged up?"

  He draped the mannequin over his shoulder. "I don't apply logic to art."

  Jake clasped Vidoc by the elbow. "Bring the dummy to the barn and work your repair magic. I'll take Petra through some basic exercises."

  Trailing behind them, I noted Vidoc wore shredded jeans and a black T-shirt like Jake. Vidoc had pulled his dark hair into a stubby ponytail. He watched entranced when Jake talked.

  The red paint on the barn had faded to splotches. The interior resembled an office, with partitioned areas along the sides and a clear space in the center. Stairs on the back wall led to a loft. White walls and a gray cement floor created an institutional atmosphere.

  After Vidoc unscrewed the mannequin's head, he placed the body on a counter in the nearest cubicle. He went upstairs and stomped around.

  Jake opened a cupboard next to the stairs. "I'll give you a spell for a beginning-level wizard." Rag dolls sat on five shelves, their beady button eyes staring out. Jake retrieved one that was a foot high and had the traditional stubby arms and legs.

  After he put the doll on the cement, he lifted his hand palm up. The doll floated to waist height, returning to the floor when he lowered his hand. "Your job is to lift this doll at least four feet off the floor."

  I shook my head. After the fight with the mannequin, I was sure I'd have some magic disaster. "I've spent my whole life thinking I have no magic powers."

  "Every day, people with no magic blood spend big bucks to turn themselves into wizards. It's always a waste of their money. Lots of folks would be happy if they found out they had hidden magic power."

  Being excited and scared at the same time made me edgy. "I feel out of control, that I'm not the same person I was a week ago."

  Jake levitated the doll to me. "I did my first magic when I was one month from my twelfth birthday. I'd known all along that I'd almost certainly be a wizard since both my parents have magic powers. When I set a roll of toilet paper on fire without meaning to, I was scared to death. I locked myself in the bathroom and sat in the tub so I couldn't hurt anyone."

  "What did your family do?"

  "I shared the bathroom with two older sisters. They took the door off the hinges and turned on the hot water for the shower."

  I held up the rag doll. "I don't want to keep worrying I'm going to set someone on fire or levitate mugs filled with hot coffee."

  He pulled a laminated sheet from the rag doll cupboard. "Here are step-by-step instructions for doing spells. They walk you through the process of levitation. You don't read a spell like you read a sign. You make the words real in your mind and activate your power. You internalize a form of spell making."

  "Right. But if I perform a spell, that wouldn't prove I have inherited magic power from my as yet unknown ancestors. Somehow I could be using the magic power Ernie sent me."

  "Let's get facts before we say what they mean." He handed me the doll and settled on a stool in a cubicle across from me, pulling a laptop from his backpack.

  I sat on the cement floor with the rag doll in my lap and checked the laminated sheet. Step One, First, let the object fill your senses.

  I squished the rag doll's soft stuffing, touched her button eyes, and traced the pink thread of her perpetual smile. My own lips curved up in sympathy. As I brushed my knuckles over the orange yarn that was her hair, I inhaled the aroma of straw and lavender.

  Step Two, Picture the object in your mind with closed eyes.

  As soon as I shut my eyes, I pictured Mona Flynn making the teddy bear wring itself out after Oscar threw it into the fountain. Wrong image. I wriggled my fingers to remind them what they had touched—the beady eyes, the threaded mouth, the soft body. Yes, the doll's image traveled from my hands to my brain. I saw her behind my eyelids. I named her Annabel Lee.

  I opened my eyes and felt good. I had her in my head. How many orders would I have to articulate to have her sail across and hit Jake, who was in a cubicle opposite me. Take that, Master Sorcerer. Pow! My rag doll shot up and slammed into his back.

  He strode over and gently placed the rag doll in my lap. "For a wizard, words are deeds."

  I scooted away from him. "The idea of her hitting you just crossed my mind. I didn't mean anything to happen. And I didn't say anything out loud. And does hitting you count as doing the spell? I did get her four feet off the ground."

  "Only a lawyer would ask that question. You are to control the doll's movement, not fling her about randomly. Don't stop now. You've got a magic flow going."

  Step Three, Feel power moving from your head to your fingertips.

  This was taking too long. I scanned the next steps. The actual levitation didn't occur until Step Seven. I had the big picture. My fingers traced Annabel Lee's figure, her face, and hair. The memory of her texture created her presence in my mind. I pointed my left index finger at her, and a flow of energy, a flush of warmth, traveled down my arm. I flipped up my hand.

  The rag doll rose two feet. I flicked several times. I just needed her to lift a little higher. Go! Go! She sailed across the room, landing with a thud halfway up the stairs. Vidoc looked out from the landing, giving me a thumbs-up. The doll flew back to me.

  Vidoc came over to my cubicle. "At least you didn't hit anybody. The steps show you the traditional process. If you rush, emotions like anger may warp your power."

  "I'm not angry." I straightened the doll's hair. "You're projecting your feelings onto me."

  Vidoc spoke to Jake, who had joined us. "I sense unresolved anger issues here."

  I waved the doll as I stepped in front of Vidoc. "Listen, this is new to me. At least I got her to move."

  "This is not about technicalities." Vidoc frowned. "It's about having your emotions and magic in harmony." He made a beckoning gesture, and Annabel Lee squirmed in my grasp.

  Reflexively, I tightened my hold. Her yarn hair stood out straight from her head and burst into flames. I flung the doll away, accidentally toward Vidoc, who slapped at her. She flew back at me. I jerked aside, but she brushed my shoulder. Her flight broken, she dropped to the floor. Jake pointed his in
dex finger at the fire consuming the doll, and it went out.

  "Hey!" I cried out. The sleeve of my T-shirt was smoldering.

  Jake cupped his hand over the sleeve. When the fabric stopped smoking, he displayed his palm, which was pink but not burned.

  I lifted up the scorched sleeve—no damaged skin. "How did she catch fire?" When Vidoc opened his mouth, I hurried on, "You're going to blame my angry magic."

  Jake rummaged in his backpack and handed me a blue Polo shirt identical to the ones he and Chris had worn Monday night. After I put it on in the restroom, I emerged to find Jake and Vidoc had changed into the blue Polos with Staff under the pierced heart insignia, whereas mine said Student.

  Vidoc made a fist over the doll's charred remains, which formed into a ball that he deposited in the rag doll cupboard. "I'll recycle her into a new doll with your hair and face." Vidoc grinned, a goofy expression that made him look younger. "You passed your first milestone, burning a rag doll. It took me two days to get to that point."

  "So I'm part of a long tradition." Wearing the shirt, making the usual mistakes, I'd joined the team without trying. My muscles tensed. I wanted to grab time, to make it slow down so I could understand events as they happened.

  "Vidoc," said Jake, "You get back to the mannequin's head while I help Petra process this event. We'll be in my office."

  Vidoc gave me a sympathetic look. "Good luck."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  FRIDAY AFTERNOON

  As I followed Jake back into the main house, I felt uneasy at Vidoc's switch from hostility to sympathy. I had to be pretty messed up if he was feeling sorry for me. Distracted, as I tried to second-guess what we were going to "process," I bumped into Jake. He had stopped to snap his fingers outside a room off the hall from the living room. Track lighting flashed on from the ceiling. Television monitors covered three walls. Many of the screens displayed cells with cinder block walls. The camera focused on the rear wall where a stone ledge extended across the room.

  "They look like prison cells," I said.

  Jake dropped his tattered, patched backpack on the desk, a thin slab of teak. "Those are the rooms for our new students. They have to be sparse because of the danger of fire, explosions, and lightning bolts from uncontrolled spells."

  I moved down the row of monitors, finally feeling oriented when I spotted something I recognized, the kitchen. "Do you mean the students here have no privacy?"

  "Students come here for healing, not privacy. My license requires sight and sound supervision twenty-four seven, of all students. Except showers and toilets."

  Checking the monitors on both sides, I saw no one except Vidoc. "Where is everybody?"

  Jake sat in a high-backed desk chair and waved at the two rockers opposite him. "The Phoenix Institute of Magic has taken them for a day for intense potion lessons in the lab. That's why I'm available for you."

  I settled into the rocker, which creaked under me. Behind Jake, lights reflected off framed diplomas that centered around a red shield with the insignia of the Master Wizards, a lightning bolt and a shepherd's crook. As Jake sat, both symbols shimmered silvery sparks.

  Jake's face flushed red, as if his inner fire were extra hot. "I've seen enough to believe that you are a danger to yourself and others."

  I planted my feet on the floor to stop the rocker. "You need more data. Vidoc could've caused the rag doll to burn."

  "In the year that I've known him here at the ranch, Vidoc has never sent out a spell like that. I don't know for sure where your magic comes from, but it comes out of you like wildfire. As a Master Wizard, I have the authority to hold you in custody. If you cooperate with me, we can set some basic rules today and go to work on your problem here for as long as it takes. If you don't—"

  Standing up, I looked back at the open door to the hallway then faced Jake. "Just like that, you arrest me?" As I paced around the room, I wanted to break something. I pressed my fingernails into my palms until it hurt. "What if I run away, fight your decision?"

  Jake nodded at me. "Try leaving."

  I dashed from his office and flung open the front door. Stepping out, I stumbled back when a strong wind pushed at me. Jake grabbed my arm, which I jerked away. The door banged shut.

  He retreated from me. "I knew you had to feel it for yourself. No one leaves here without permission. You can appeal my decision."

  Escorted by Jake, I marched back to his office and sank into the rocker. "Yeah, sure, if I fight you, you'll still hold me in custody. If I want a hearing, there'll be all kinds of publicity. Local Lawyer Claims She's Not a Wizard."

  "If you appeal, the judges will be a panel of three other Master Wizards."

  "Who of course will always agree with you."

  Jake removed two bottles of water from his backpack. "We both need to cool off. Petra, be honest with yourself. Would you be okay with leaving and resuming your life? The next time you shake someone's hand, you might set them on fire. What if you unintentionally did a spell while driving and caused an accident? Think about what happened with the mannequin and the doll." He pushed a bottle across the desk toward me.

  I ignored it. I didn't want to cool off. He'd just said what I'd been afraid to think. I had stepped off a cliff and couldn't organize my thoughts on the way down. I understood his words but couldn't make myself believe them. "You're saying that Monday morning I won't be able to go to court. I'll be here learning not to be a dysfunctional wizard." I stalked around the room and imagined myself a little figure inside one of the TV screens, observed by Vidoc and Jake to see if I correctly levitated a rag doll.

  Jake moved from behind the desk and handed the water to me. "The power inside you is causing the change, not me. You'll stay here until you can control your magic—anywhere from one to twelve months. If I decide a removal spell will fix you up, you can leave as soon as the spell is successful."

  I stopped to sip the water, which was surprisingly cold for being in a backpack. My head throbbed so bad I thought I would explode. "How long will it take you to decide if you can fix me with a removal spell?"

  "I don't operate on a timeline. I respond to what I see. You'll have to sleep here tonight. We'll go to your place and get some clothes. Remember, you have my exclusive services for twenty-four hours."

  I pressed the bottle on my hot cheeks. "I need to let my partners know what's going on. Is there any way I can go to court on Monday?"

  "You can only be in public with a Master Wizard who would accompany you. In dense crowds, the Master Wizard might put a shield around you to protect the public. Most of us don't have the time or energy for so much supervision."

  "Can you go with me to court on Monday?"

  "I have to be here. You can send an email to the Master Wizards' office to see if anyone is available. I would definitely not count on it."

  I walked up to Jake with my chin out and my shoulders squared, but I knew my face was pinched. "I need to send some emails. I'm going to get a second opinion about whether I'm dangerous."

  Jake blinked several times. "Does this mean you agree to stay here and accept help?"

  I think I surprised him by my decision. I wasn't in the mood to tell him, but the winning argument had been that I could inadvertently hurt people. I hated to admit he was right. "I don't have a choice. For right now, I agree."

  "I'll prepare a pledge for you to sign later." Jake gestured at me to follow as he left his office and stopped at the next doorway. "This is the room for a new student. We have two vacancies. At night, someone is in the office in case of explosions or demons."

  The square room we stopped at had cinder block walls painted a dazzling white. Opposite the doorway, the cinder blocks formed a ledge the size of a park bench. Red and black graffiti swirled on the wall directly above the ledge. To the left was a fireplace with no smoke stains on its white surface. The floor was painted gray.

  I rubbed my hand on the cold wall. "Why is there a fireplace?"

  "It's the storage spac
e, an open-air closet or dresser, whatever you want to use it for."

  "I suppose that stone bench is the bed?"

  "I like to think of it as a character builder. If you wake up spewing fire, you'll appreciate all the nonflammable surfaces."

  I sat on the ledge. It was as hard as it looked. "I want to get those emails off. I left my laptop in my trunk."

  "Give me your keys. I'll park your car in the back. You shouldn't be driving."

  After he left with the keys, I felt as if I'd just sold him the car, and I'd never see it again. He wouldn't let me drive until he was sure I wasn't going to accidentally put a spell on the brakes or steering wheel. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. Tears were ready to fall. I turned and read the graffiti. This sucks. First spell is to float on air. Jake is a jerk. This man saved my life. Eat this. Bite yourself. My hate is stronger than your love. Taking a pen from my purse, I wrote Crying never fixed anything. I will never cry. I heard footsteps and dropped the pen when Vidoc appeared in the doorway.

  I rubbed at the ink with my finger. "I'm surprised you don't clean this stuff up."

  Vidoc handed me my laptop. "The graffiti is a tradition. We're eating. The dining room is just beyond the kitchen."

  I wasn't interested in food. I had to rearrange my life.

  It took me an hour to compose messages to my partners, Bear and Maxy, and to my co-counsel, Chris. I took a worst-case scenario approach, assuming I wouldn't handle my cases Monday and perhaps for the next several months. The only thing that kept me from running out of the room screaming was an urgent need to arrange for coverage of all my cases and notify clients of my incapacity and their options for continued representation. I wondered how many would choose Bear, Maxy, or Lauren as substitute counsel. I told myself I was glad I'd observed Lauren in court and knew she could do a decent job. After doing some dismal financial calculations, I decided I could keep going for about three months, assuming I had to live off savings, but I didn't know how I would pay for treatment.

  I was slumped on the stone ledge when the phone rang, showing Mark Turner, Felicia's neighbor. "This is Petra Rakowitz. Mr. Turner, what can I do for you?"