Judy sighed, but didn’t explain any further. “Is this your first time going to the conference?”
“It is,” I nodded. “I’m a little nervous, but excited to learn. How about you two?”
“We’ve been going for a few years,” said Judy.
“I only go because I get off for work,” said Margot. “It’s mostly a waste of time. Since you’re clearly lacking in the skill department, though, it’ll probably be worth your time.”
“She was skilled enough to block your shot,” chimed in Bart.
“It was a lucky block,” glared Margot.
“The conference is for new witches?” I asked, trying to change the subject away from magical warfare in my store. “Why are you two going, then?”
“It’s not just for new witches,” corrected Judy. “The conference actually used to have quite a bit of prestige. The best witches in the world would come to lecture and to learn from others. Unfortunately, it has gone down hill ever since the fighting ban.”
“Fighting ban?” asked Bart.
“Because all the best witches came, some had… ego problems. This would lead to battles between lecturers, attendees, hosts… basically everyone involved in the conference.”
“Sounds dangerous,” I said, feeling nervous again. What was I getting myself into? “Why would people go to the conference if fights were always breaking out?”
“You’re kidding, right?” asked Margot. “You go in order to see who is the better witch!”
“My friend has a point,” nodded Judy. “Because it was dangerous, more people wanted to go in order to spar, or learn from truly powerful witches. If you were a lecturer at the conference, that meant you were incredibly strong. You’d be dead, otherwise.”
“Oh, I think I get it,” I said. “It attracted the strongest lecturers, who you could then learn from. The reward was worth the risk.”
“Exactly,” smiled Judy. “However, about fifteen years ago, they put a ban on fighting. They stopped inviting the more dangerous lecturers, which ultimately led to a drop in quality and attendance. There probably won’t be more than a couple dozen witches at the conference this year.”
I was happy to hear it wasn’t going to be super dangerous. I didn’t know much about sparring, and was more interested in learning the basics.
“Can we go?” asked Margot. “I’d rather just head over now.”
“That’s fine,” said Judy. “It was nice meeting you, Zoey. We’ll see you there!”
“Looking forward to it,” I lied again, as the two woman walked away. Judy seemed nice enough, but Margot was quite a piece of work.
“Hope we don’t run into them again,” muttered Bart.
“I hope so too,” I nodded.
We continued to the front of the store, where I knew I was going to have to make it past Charline before getting to the safety of my office. I just wanted to sneak in there before heading out for Crestwood, get a little work done, and then focus all my energy on the conference. With any luck, I wouldn’t even see my mom at the conference. Maybe she left town completely, and decided against going.
I turned the corner, prepared to have to chat with Charline, when my shoulders and mouth dropped.
Charline stood at the register, talking to my mom.
“That’s a horrifying combo if I ever saw one,” said Bart.
“They’re probably arguing,” I said, trying to comprehend the two having a conversation. “There’s no way the two would get along.”
Charline and my mom burst into mutual laughter. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen Charline laugh before. It just… didn’t look natural.
“You might want to hurry up and kill this friendship before it starts,” recommended Bart.
The last thing I wanted to do was join their conversation, but the familiar was right.
I hated it when he was right.
“Hi ladies,” I said, forcing a smile as I walked up to them. “What’s all the laughter about?”
“Oh, I’m just telling her some stories about you in middle school,” smiled my mom.
“I can’t believe you jumped into a pool in front of the whole school without knowing how to swim,” laughed Charline, covering her mouth. “What did you think was going to happen?”
“If only my mother had taught me how to swim like everyone else’s had, maybe things would’ve gone differently,” I said.
“Come on, not everyone knows how to swim,” said my mom, brushing my criticism to the side.
“I noticed you were gone when I woke up this morning,” I said.
“That’s because you sleep in way too late,” she said. “To think you sleep in past 7 on a work day. I sure didn’t raise you that way.”
“Because you hardly raised me,” I mumbled.
“She really does come in very late most days,” said Charline. “She’ll even leave for half days afterward! I have countless charts, noting her times, that I could fax to you.”
“Fax? People still fax?” asked Bart.
“You don’t need to be keeping tabs on me, Charline,” I said, struggling to keep my fake smile up.
“Of course I do,” said Charline. “How else will upper management know when you’re coming and going? Why, you took a half day just yesterday!”
“Upper management never asked you to keep tabs on people,” I said.
“And how would you know what they asked me to do?”
“I am upper management!” I said for the millionth time.
“And you’re welcome for the reports,” she nodded, as if me nearly shouting at her was my way of thanking her. “By the way, what are you doing in town, Melina? Are you moving back?”
“Thankfully she’s not,” I answered. “She’s here to go to a conference with me.”
“Actually, I’ll be going to the conference by myself,” said my mom. “Unfortunately, my daughter wasn’t invited. Maybe next year.”
“You must be getting old, Mom, because I was invited,” I said, pulling out the black stone again. “Remember?”
My mom looked down at the stone, eyes widening for a split second. Just as fast as it happened, she hid her reaction. She looked up at me in either respect or anger - maybe both. “Silly me, that’s right. You are coming with after all.”
We stared at each other in silence for a moment, trying to see who would react first. I knew it was killing her that I got an invite. She must be questioning how I got it, but I wasn’t going to say.
Charline looked back and forth between us, before awkwardly taking a few steps back and pretending to clean the register.
“The conference is starting soon, so I guess I’ll meet you over there,” I smiled at my mom, turning and heading to my office.
“I guess you will,” she said, turning and leaving as well.
“You two have such a healthy mother-daughter relationship,” said Bart, trotting after me.
Chapter 3
A few hours later, Bart and I found ourselves driving to the back entrance of Crestwood. I was curious to see how the vampire council was doing, as the last time I was there it dwindled from three members to one. If they were hosting this event for witches, they must be doing well.
“Is there anything I should know before we get there?” I asked Bart. We were running a little late, but I figured this was more of a casual thing. At least, I hoped it was.
“Nothing that I can think of off the top of my head,” he shrugged. “Is there something your nervous about?”
“I’ve never thought about sparring with other witches before. It’s got me a little worried.”
“They said that doesn’t happen anymore, remember?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean no one will try anything. Maybe people will try to get it going again.”
“I don’t think you have to worry, but I can teach you how to counterspell if you’d like,” he offered.
“While we’re driving?”
“Sure, it’s not hard,” he said. “All you’ve g
ot to do is reach out your hand, have you mind go completely blank, except for the word evanescere.”
“I knew I should’ve taken Latin back at school,” I sighed.
“Go ahead and try.”
“Okay…” I said, trying to keep my mind blank as we pulled out onto a side road that led to Crestwood. I repeated the word evanescere over and over in my head, trying to remember it. “I guess I’ve got it.”
“Only one way to find out,” said Bart, a small pink ball appearing in his paw.
“W-What is that?” I asked. I had never seen him cast a spell before.
“I’m going to throw this at you. You need to stop it before it hits you,” he purred. “Ready?”
“W-Wait-”
Bart chucked the ball at my face, as I pointed at it, screaming the Latin in my head. The pink ball didn’t disappear. Instead, it smacked into my nose, giving me a slight jolt. It wasn’t more than a static shock after walking on carpet with socks, but I jerked the wheel in surprise.
“Tree,” said Bart, calmly watching the road.
I jerked the wheel again at the last second, narrowly missing a tree and getting back into the middle of the road.
“Why’d you do that?!” I demanded.
“You thought you had counterspell under control. Apparently, you didn’t.”
“Let’s not throw spells at me while I drive anymore, okay?”
“If you say so,” he shrugged.
We pulled into the side of the hill that marked Crestwood’s secret entrance. The parking garage was filled with dozens of cars, housing the vampires’ vehicles. I pulled up to an open spot, getting out and taking a look around. No one else was there, except for a woman staring at me in front of some doors on the other side. She was carrying a clipboard and had long black hair that nearly fell to her feet. She messed with her glasses while watching me.
“Why’s she looking at us?” whispered Bart.
“Maybe she’s the welcoming committee for the witches?” I wondered.
A sudden burst of cold seized all around me. I was almost scared for half a second, before I realized what was happening.
“Or… she’s waiting for Allen to get done trying to scare me,” I said firmly.
“Aw man!” whined a man directly behind me. I turned to see Allen the vampire crossing his arms and shaking his head in annoyance. “I told Chloe not to watch me sneak up on people! She’s totally cramping my style!”
“It’s good to see you, Allen,” I giggled, giving him a quick hug.
“Good to see you as well,” he smiled. “It’s been too long! You should really come by here more often. The vampires are all very thankful for what you did. You could probably get some free drinks out of it or something. Maybe some milk for Bart?”
“I like the sound of that,” purred Bart.
“Sir,” said a woman’s voice directly behind me. I had to keep from yelping. I turned around to see the woman with the clipboard behind me, looking up at Allen. What was with these vampires and sneaking up on people? “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’re late for a meeting regarding the zoning problems with new construction.”
“Sir?” I mouthed to Bart, who shrugged.
“I’ll get to it when I get to it, Chloe,” said Allen in annoyance. “Zoey is here for the witch’s conference, and will need to be escorted there.”
“But I could just do that-”
“No!” he said, holding up a hand. “This is Zoey Foster, the one who kept our people from going to war with there werewolves again!”
“Yes, sir,” nodded Chloe, smiling at me. “I know who she is-”
“So it is my duty to be the one to escort her. Don’t you understand?”
“Not really…” she said, a confused look on her face. “But if that’s what you want, I’ll go tell them to wait. We probably shouldn’t have setup a meeting with them so early in our day though…”
“Thank you, Chloe,” he said, taking my arm gently and pulling me along after him. I glanced back to see a disappointed Chloe scribbling on her clipboard.
“What was that about?” I asked. “Why do you have to meet with people concerning new construction?”
“And why does she call you ‘sir?’” added Bart.
“Chloe is my aid,” he said, bringing us into the vampire’s underground town, and leading us down a main street. “I told her she could just call me Allen, but she hasn’t really taken to it for some reason… Anyway, I’m the newest council member.”
“Really?” Bart and I said in unison. I hadn’t really taken Allen to be the responsible or government type.
“The town knew I helped you find the killers, and also that I helped you with the whole pixie thing, so they voted me in,” he said, waving at some passing vampires. The waved back with big smiles. Lowering his voice, he added, “To be honest, I’m not really sure I’m cut out for the job. I didn’t actually have a choice.”
“I’m happy for you,” I said. “Unless this isn’t something to be happy about?”
“Being forced to listen to farmers and builders complain about taxes is not something to be happy about. Trust me,” he sighed, leading me into a large building. “Anyway, we’re here.”
He pushed open the doors to a very large, very empty, ballroom. Two dozen chairs were setup in the far end of the room, along with a large table and chalk board positioned in front of them. Two women were talking near the table, and as Allen brought me closer, I realized one of them was my mom.
Of course.
“Ladies,” began Allen. “Please allow me to introduce to you Miss Zoey Foster. She’s a local witch. Very nice, very talented, and-”
“Very late,” said my mom. “I raised you better than this.”
“Good to see you, mom,” I smiled.
“Mom?” gasped Allen. “This is your mom?! How exciting! Is this your first conference together?”
We both nodded, shooting daggers at each other with our eyes.
“You must be so proud!” said Allen to my mom.
She looked at Allen and blinked.
“Er… you must get your social skills from your dad,” whispered Allen to me, before bringing his voice back to its normal volume. “Zoey, this is Eleanor Rose, the witch in charge of the conference.”
“How do you do,” nodded the woman.
“Nice to meet you,” I smiled.
“Sir,” came Chloe’s voice, again directly behind me. I couldn’t help it but jump this time. I really wish she’d stop. “They really need to talk to you now.”
“Fine,” sighed Allen, walking after Chloe. “I hope you all have a great conference! Please don’t hesitate to come talk to me if you need help with anything.”
The door closed behind him, leaving me and Bart alone with my mom and Eleanor in a giant, empty room.
“How long have you been leading the conference, Eleanor?” I asked.
“About two decades,” she said, staring at me intently. She didn’t look happy… what was wrong?
“Eleanor used to lecture during the breakout sessions for Transmutation before that,” added my mom. “She was one of the best! We got along quite well, and have kept in touch over the last few decades.”
“May I ask what caused you to arrive late?” asked Eleanor sharply.
Oh. That’s what was wrong.
“I’m sorry, I lost track of time at my store,” I said. “I didn’t leave until twenty minutes before the start time.”
“Why didn’t you use your teleportation stone?” she asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You do have an invite, don’t you?” she asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“Yes,” I said, pulling out the stone to show her. Eleanor picked it up, turning it over in her hand. She handed it back to me, looking at me with even less warmth than before.
“This was the invite that Warren Locke asked for… he gave it to you?” she asked.
“Y-Yes…” I said.
“That explains a
few things, then, if you two work together,” she said, shaking her head.
“Oh, no,” I said. Warren seemed to know almost everyone, and almost everyone seemed to be skeptical of him. It was better if I wasn’t connected with him. “We aren’t associates. I mean, we have worked together a couple of times, but it was just on an occasion or two.”
“Very convincing,” whispered Bart.
“These stone invites double as teleportation stones,” said Eleanor. “That way we wouldn’t have any late arrivals. Your familiar should have educated you on the magic when he saw it.”
“Uh… my bad,” he said, shrinking back.
This wasn’t going as well as I hoped it would.
“I know we’re late, but aren’t we the first here?” I asked, looking around at the empty chairs.
“You’ve already missed the opening session, where we talked about several important matters,” said Eleanor, a mix of disappointment and annoyance painted on her face.
“Oh, uh, sorry about that…”
She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to me. “You’ll need to pick the particular break out session that you’d like to attend.”
I looked down over the list, seeing what options I had. It read:
Potion Making 101: The Basics of the Craft
Transmutation 202: Legal uses of the Alchymist Stone
Broom Flying 102: Not just for Sweeping
“I will be attending Transmutation 202,” said my mom. “I’m sure it’s quite a bit above your level, my dear. Best to stick to one of the 100 level sessions.”
I had no idea what an Alchymist Stone was, so I wasn’t about to go listen to the legality of it anyway. I was in luck that my mom picked the one I didn’t want to do.
“I guess that leaves potion making and broom flying,” I said.
“Have you flown a broom before?” asked Eleanor.
“I haven’t,” I said. To be honest, I thought it was just something made up, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. “Sounds like it could be fun.”
“I see,” she said. “In that case, I highly recommend you take the potions class instead. It’s really meant more for our young ones, or in your case, new.”
The Wrong Witch: Twistchapel Cozy Mystery Book 6 Page 2
