by Evelyn Snow
In another light, including Cassandra as a judge had been a genius move—if only I passed.
“Let the record show,” Devi announced with a flash of a private smile, “there are no objections to the candidacy of Evangeline Jinx for the MBI. Please begin.”
I walked down the steps onto the grass and halted where I’d dropped my backpack. “When approaching a crime scene, the first step for an investigator is to stop at a safe distance and make a visual inspection. Often, there will be signs of trouble or a disturbance at the site.”
Risking a glance over my shoulder, I saw that Marley still looked deader than dead. My momentary optimism faltered. Mistakes with the animation spell, even accidental ones, meant failure. Five years ago, Cassandra’s spell had worked spectacularly well bringing the rosebush to life during her exam. Technically, though, she’d failed because someone else had dealt with the threat. Magical flame throwing spells had a way of doing that.
The day had been nothing more than a bump in the road of Cassandra’s soon-to-be-glorious career. She’d taken the test again a few months later and passed easily.
Me? What if I’d missed some essential ingredient for the spell? I was a self-taught witch.
It was also possible that the protective wards against magic placed around the official buildings might be interfering. I assumed the wards were lifted for tests, otherwise, what was the point? Unless they were merely perimeter spells…
Worrying about the wards was a rabbit hole of distraction I couldn’t afford.
Despite Holden’s uninformed opinion, time-delay spells were dead simple. They didn’t differ from ordinary spells except for a few added words that stopped them from deploying immediately. They belonged to a category of spells even the newest of newbies couldn’t screw up. Yet, it was looking like that was exactly what I’d done.
I wasn’t going down without a fight. Time to improvise.
“The main point is to be on the lookout for any entity of the undead variety,” I said, “including those long dead besides the more recently deceased. It’s equally important to keep in mind that the recently dead can be more unpredictable and more dangerous than any other kind of dead. Especially after they discover they no longer have a body. Some of their tricks include playing dead.” I swept my arm in an arc toward the gazebo as if an unmoving dummy was what I’d planned.
All three judges stared at Marley. He didn’t move. A trickle of sweat rolled down the side of my neck.
At last, Devi said, “Ghosts, demons, any of the undead—they’re all dangerous. The only thing more dangerous is wasting time figuring out if they’re new on the scene or older than a crypt crawler.” She circled her hand in a signal to move on.
“Which is why the most likely discovery will be that nothing has survived the initial violence. That’s clearly the case with our victim today,” I said cheerfully. “In the event of extreme violence or if the perpetrators deployed unusually powerful magic, souls have been known to linger at the scene. There’s also a risk that a local elemental or nature spirit may have become trapped in the environment if the spells involved dark magic. This adds to the potential for confusion. Therefore, I should release such spirits before proceeding.”
Cassandra shifted her weight from one foot to the other, watching me closely, but saying nothing. So far, so good.
I reached into the backpack and extracted a handful of wands. They ranged from nine to eighteen inches and varied in thickness from a fragile quarter of an inch to a sturdy five-eighths. Holding up the lightest one, I said, “With a soul bound to the earth by regret, a wand carved from pine is the first choice for the release of sorrow.” To be sure, there were other reasons for regret, such as unfinished business, but unfinished business was a bottomless pit. Regret was a better choice because it covered a lot of emotional territory and the associated spells were quick and easy.
Sullivan folded his arms over his massive chest. Remaining impassive and unreadable was Sullivan’s superpower. To get a read on where I stood with him, I needed to irritate him. Luckily, that was my superpower.
I waved the skinny wand. “Pine wouldn’t be your first choice. If you carry one of these with you, it’s only for kindling, right?”
He snorted. “I carry matches bigger than that.”
“Thank you so much for finally admitting you can’t light a fire without a match.” Cassandra sniffed, adding a twitch of her nose and a shake of her blond mane to punctuate her disgust—in case observers might have any doubt about her opinion.
Ignoring Cassandra, Sullivan said, “Releasing the regrets of some dead necromancer is way down my list of priorities, but if that’s the way you want to roll as an agent, I have no objections.”
As if the rest of us weren’t standing there, Cassandra said, “I wasn’t aware your priorities extended to anything beyond the number of zeroes attached to your next bounty.”
Devi sighed. Standing between the two she must have felt like Switzerland. “Can we get back to the examination, please? I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have other things to do today before the bridge closes for the eclipse this evening.”
I dropped the pine wand and selected two others from the collection in my palm. “For aiding a soul that needs help to cross over, hickory and elder are both good choices.” Since no one voiced any objections, I moved on to the next one. “If there’s any hint of danger or ongoing violence, a rowan wand serves the dual purposes of personal protection and aiding travel.”
Did aiding travel mean the same thing as assisting transition? I was thinking along the lines of Death Takes a Holiday because wasn’t that the point of death—moving from one state to whatever came next? Did it matter whether the move was from one world to another or within the same world?
In the example of the specifics of travel versus transition, none of my textbooks listed a clear and definitive answer. I decided it was a gray area. I also didn’t want to press the point. It would be just my luck that one of the examiners would demand a precise definition. Luckily, Cassandra was too busy scoring points against Sullivan to bother with me. All I needed to do was prove I understood the five main steps and be done.
One wand remained in my hand. “Finally, we have the hawthorn wand. It’s an excellent choice for embracing what is and what must be. It also covers wishes of the heart and it’s handy for protection against vampires.”
I tucked the hawthorn wand inside my pack and rummaged around until I found a leather-bound book. Sucking in a deep breath, I faced the gazebo.
“Next is to record the crime scene using a Twilight Grimoire.” Only official investigators could own a Twilight Grimoire. That’s why test takers had to use a stand-in. I’d picked a book at random off the library shelves. The subject didn’t matter because it was for demonstration only. I’d liked the cover though. It was a soft blue leather that had aged to a warm gray patina.
I ran my finger down the page. “I begin the process by listing my name and investigator number.”
The words to describe step two were clear and simple, and I’d memorized them, which didn’t make saying them feel any less wooden and awkward. “Using the Twilight Grimoire, the next step is to record the scene.” I lifted the open book over my head and walked around the gazebo. Not only did I feel stupid as I progressed, I wondered if making a fool of a prospective trainee was part of the test. Ordinary people in the greater world didn’t take magic seriously. They probably didn’t take MBI investigators seriously, either.
When I completed the circle and returned to face the judges, I explained the process of closing the recording and how the evidence should be transferred to the proper authorities.
As I bent to return the library book to my pack, a low groan broke the silence.
I froze, my gaze darting from Devi to Cassandra and then to Sullivan. They focused their gazes on the gazebo behind me. I heard another groan, this one deeper. Then came scratching sounds.
Sullivan snickered. “Looks like
you might have a live one up there after all.”
Turning around, I saw that Marley was sitting up. Sadly, he’d achieved the position while leaving his head behind—should have used more duct tape. The ruffled ends of the gathered top of the burlap bag rotated left and right. It was almost as if he was trying to turn his head to see only he hadn’t figured out it was no longer attached.
The head, which was resting on the floor next to the body, rolled over and flipped upright. Chunks of mud fell away. A slit sliced through the plastic, removing bits of the jug. The garish mouth creaked open slowly. A loud, muffled groan echoed over the park.
“What type of wood did you use for the arms and legs?” Devi asked.
“Elder branches.”
Cassandra smiled and murmured, “Tree of doom.”
Chapter 7
When Marley’s remaining pink boot wobbled loose and flew into the air, I could no longer stand by while my hopes and dreams died.
I reached inside my backpack, grabbed two wands, then rose and faced the scene of the crime. Marley thumped down the steps on one side while his head rolled the other direction and lolled under a rosebush. Stupid flowers. It would be just my luck they were whispering pointers to him about how best to sabotage my chances.
Wow. So much for staying upbeat and positive.
Lifting the elder wand, I pointed it at my floppy pirate monster. “Fatal elder, cursed but true—no more of you.” A flash of blue light streaked from the tip of the wand, and Marley stilled.
Switching hands, I raised the rowan wand. As if it guessed what I had planned, the milk jug head wobbled from under the shrub, rocking from side to side and gaining speed until it launched for the sky.
“By spell and shade, a wall I’ve made.” The head slammed into the invisible wall that sprang up instantly and tumbled to the ground.
While a sinking feeling turned my stomach sour, I faced the judges, my mind blank. “Going back to the beginning, there’s one thing I neglected to mention—step one. To secure the crime scene, I should have created a perimeter wall first.”
“And…?” Cassandra’s blue eyes narrowed. The expression made her look like a cranky air elemental, which reminded me of yet another point I’d glossed over.
“Before signing off on the recording in the Twilight Grimoire, I should have mentioned making sure I hadn’t accidentally captured an elemental or any traces of stray elemental magic inside the book. Elementals don’t always clear away on the first sweep. If one were caught inside, it would taint the evidence, not to mention being terrible for the elemental’s health.”
Cassandra seemed satisfied. Sullivan grunted. Devi kicked at the grass with the toe of her boot.
I swallowed and plunged ahead. “Step four or is it five? Anyway, the next thing is to gather any traces of stray magic that might have been left at the scene into a suitable containment device. If there’s a large quantity, I should not attempt to gather the remnants myself. Instead, I should call in a cleaner certified for the task. Finally, I should collect for safekeeping all magical objects or artifacts and thoroughly describe them in my report, which should be filed no later than twenty-four hours following my arrival on the scene.”
After a long silence where it was a struggle to keep still, Devi said somewhat hesitantly, “You got most of it—in the end.”
Cassandra regarded Devi with an expression that would have terrified anyone less impressive than the MBI director. “Seriously? That was a mess.” She pointed at the scattered bits of mud and plastic and sticks that used to be Marley. “I don’t know what that was all about, but it was a joke. Elder wood can’t be trusted, and she should have known that. She needs to retake the written exam again. We should allow her to retake the walk-through if she passes the written with a minimum score of ninety percent.”
“Assuming Evie failed today,” Devi said.
“She failed! She forgot the first and most important step. You won’t admit it, but you’re on her side.” She turned to Sullivan. Two spots of color brightened her pale cheeks. “Where do you stand?”
“Devi’s right she got most of the elements,” Sullivan said. “Honestly, I’m not sure why it matters that a trainee has to pass a walk-through demonstration. It’s nothing like a real situation. The part about spelling a fake victim is artificial. Real learning happens on the job. That’s because the number of variables we have to deal with at a crime scene can be as infinite as magic and malevolence. No test could hope to cover everything.” He shrugged. “I’ve seen prospects for the bureau pass this test without a single mistake only to freeze when they’re in the field.”
“That’s not fair, Duncan’s situation was different,” Cassandra protested.
Sullivan’s brows drew together. “I haven’t forgotten.”
Cassandra shrugged. “That’s not what it looks like to me.”
“So, Evie,” Devi said, “you had a few hiccups today. The points Sullivan made are valid. If the technical score was all that mattered, I’d have to agree with Cassie that you failed.”
My nemesis dragged her death gaze away from the wizard long enough to shoot me a satisfied smirk.
“However, judging isn’t based solely on technicals. We’re split.” Devi gestured to Sullivan. “It’s your call.”
He stroked his chin. “Before we decide, someone needs to reverse the spell for the perimeter wall.”
I blinked. Sullivan was right. The spell would prevent anyone from using the location. The gazebo was a popular spot with workers from nearby offices for outdoor lunch breaks.
The wall would also have to come down before I could clean up the mess. Mud splattered the support columns. There were even clumps of mud on the underside of the roof. Stray bits of the magic from Marley’s demolition painted a pale shimmer over every surface. If the wood wasn’t scrubbed clean, an unsuspecting person might sit down with a ham and cheese on rye only to see the sandwich come to life because the spell had infected their lunch. While that would be fun for some, it could turn ugly in a hurry. It would also be my fault. The last thing I needed was another black mark on my record.
I reached into my pack, selected the skinny pine wand and then stood.
“Hold on.” Sullivan nodded at Cassandra. “Why don’t you take down the wall to show Evie how it’s done?” He folded his arms and took a step back, giving her space.
“Gladly.” Cassandra lifted a hand, scorning to use a wand, and whispered. I couldn’t make out the release spell she’d chosen, but it didn’t matter. There were seven or eight catalogued in the most popular grimoires and any would work.
Except nothing happened.
Cassandra frowned and tried again. No luck.
Sullivan coughed into his hand while Devi shook her head and sighed.
Cassandra whirled on him, her face turning so red I was afraid she was about to pop. “What have you done?”
Raising his hands, Sullivan said, “Nothing, I swear.” He was struggling not to laugh, which only made matters worse.
“Liar,” Cassandra seethed. “You’ve done something—I don’t know what—but I know you have. You’re helping her cheat. It’s the only explanation for why her spells work when mine won’t.”
“Knock it off with the accusations.” Sullivan’s voice remained calm and steady while his good humor melted. A dangerous spark flared in his green eyes. “Aren’t you the one who just claimed I’m too busy counting bounty money to follow proper procedure? Or would you rather imply I’m incompetent? You’re going to have to pick one because it doesn’t work both ways. Either I know what I’m doing, or I don’t.”
Even for a stormbringer, challenging the Wheel’s enforcer was a bad idea.
Without taking her gaze from Sullivan, Cassandra ripped the pine wand from my startled fingers and stabbed the air. “Court and hall, pine clear the wall.” Faint green sparks flared from the wand only to fizzle.
The warding spell still shimmered in the sunlight.
“COURT AND HAL
L, PINE CLEAR THE WALL!”
“Spells aren’t deaf,” I muttered.
Still, nothing changed.
With a screech of fury, Cassandra cracked the wand in half, then broke the pieces into splinters and threw them on the ground. I stared for a few blinks before squatting to scrape the remains into my hands.
Cassandra watched me through slitted eyes. What would make a witch turn a perfectly good wand into mulch? Aunt Phoebe was so afraid of magic that sometimes she made me feel like breaking a wand. I never went through with it. They took too much time to make to ruin casually. Plus, creating them in the Greater World took more energy since magic in that realm was highly unpredictable. Funny that Cassandra hadn’t learned that lesson.
“Evie, Cassandra’s having a hard time today,” Devi said with deceptive mildness. “Would you mind giving her a hand by reversing your spell?”
I stood, hoping I looked suitably horrified. If a stormbringer couldn’t take down the spell, why would anyone, let alone a master witch like Devi Talbot, assume I could?
Throwing the fire spell a few years ago had been an accident. Knee-jerk instinct. The only reason it had worked, they had told me, was because of a gap in security; gaps that had, supposedly, been fixed since then. I must have found another one today. That was the only thing that explained what was happening.
Cassandra and I would never be friends, but I wasn’t stupid. I was well aware I wasn’t half the witch she was and never would be. Not to mention, I’d never attempted a clearing spell with a shredded wand before. Was that even possible?
While an invisible cloud of doom settled around me, I lifted the handful of splinters that used to be my wand. “Court and hall, pine clear the wall.”
