The War on Witches

by Paul Ruditis

  “What’s that?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice.

  The man had pulled a small glass vial from his bag. The contents of the vial were green and sparkled when they caught the light. “Nothing to worry about,” he said. “Just a few herbs. Goes along with this spell.” He pointed to a page in the book, but Nat refused to take her eyes off him to look.

  She took another step back. Nat didn’t know a lot about herbs, but she couldn’t think of any that naturally sparkled in the light. Her fingers reached behind her for the electronic lock, fumbling to find the punch pad so she could enter the code. “Spell? So . . . you’re a witch?”

  “No,” he said. “Not a witch. Not a warlock. I’m just a man. And this isn’t one of your Books of Shadows. It’s something completely different. We call it a Book of Light.” He took the stopper off the vial.

  “We?” Nat’s hand felt the pad as her eyes searched for accomplices. She saw a shadow outside the window, but couldn’t make out a person. He was probably alone. The we was just for show.

  Her fingers ran over the keys on the pad. The code was simple enough, but she’d never punched it in while the pad was behind her back and her hands were shaking frantically.

  “Interesting.” Nat struggled to keep him talking. “But what makes your spells good and witches’ spells evil? Isn’t it more about the person using them?”

  The man poured some of the sparkling herbs into his hand as Nat hit the first number. “This is natural magic,” he replied. “Unlike witches’ unnatural magic.”

  Nat punched in the second number of the code while she tried to figure out a way to talk the guy out of doing whatever it was he was going to do. There was nothing more natural than the magic witches used. Nature was at the heart of every spell. Somehow, she didn’t think this line of reasoning would work on him. “By using natural sparkling herbs?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “This won’t hurt. And if you’re being honest about not using your dark magic, then in the end it may give you exactly what you want.”

  Nat pressed the final number in the code and the door buzzed behind her. Her eyes went wide when she realized she’d entered it wrong. She’d missed a number or maybe hit them all wrong. The door wasn’t opening.

  The strange man smiled as the sound confirmed that she was trapped. He raised his open hand to his mouth.

  With barely a thought, Nat leaned forward and blew the herbs into the man’s face. He yelped in shock as the sparkling mixture went into his eyes.

  Nat followed the herbs with his messenger bag, hitting him square in the face, spilling its contents all over the floor. She dove to the right, running out from behind the counter. If she could make it to the street she could scream for help until someone came. The store was at the slower end of the shopping district but there was usually a good amount of foot traffic. She just had to get to the door. Four bounding steps would get her to freedom.

  A hand grabbed her shirt, yanking her back. The guy was deceptively strong. Nat lost her footing and went to the ground. The air was knocked from her as she landed on her back on the floor.

  Nat swung her fists as the man straddled her. She wasn’t going down easily. Her mind told her to keep moving. Fight back. Her fist connected with his head, sending him stumbling to the side. She pushed him off her, giving him a kick as she got to her feet.

  Her attacker rolled back, between her and the door. She was on the wrong side of the counter, backed up to the wall. If she were a little taller, maybe she could hop the counter and make another play for the back room, but the odds were against her five-foot-two frame. The attacker was getting up. She needed a weapon.

  Lightweight tablets weren’t going to do the damage. She’d slam a computer into his head if those weren’t on the other side of the store. The tiny screwdriver she’d used to open the laptop would only be useful if he got her in his arms. She picked it up anyway, but hoped he wouldn’t get close enough for her to use it. She needed something bigger.

  The book!

  Nat grabbed the old tome off the counter. The heavy, leather-bound book would do much more damage than a tablet.

  “I hit the alarm,” she lied, holding the book above her head, preparing to throw it. “The cops are on the way.”

  “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” the man said. He also seemed to be taking in the situation. The half-empty bottle of mystery sparkling herbs was still in his hand. He’d closed it before the fight, but it was open again. “I’m here to help. To lead you back to the light.”

  “Thanks, but I like my dark little corner of the world right here.” Nat flung the book at him, hoping it would knock him down or out or something, but he snagged it out of the air one handed.

  “Thank you.” He flipped the book open and began to read a language she did not recognize.

  A glow emanated from the book and directed itself toward Nat. Either the light or her own fear kept her locked in place. Beyond the light, she thought she saw that shadow outside the window again. Was it an accomplice? Or maybe just some innocent bystander waiting for the bus? She cried out for help but the shadow didn’t move. Maybe it was just a shadow.

  The man stepped closer. “No one is here to help you.”

  Natalie was frozen in a prison of light. She wasn’t in pain. It merely held her in place. But she was terrified all the same as the man stepped closer.

  He poured out another handful of the sparkling powder.

  He lifted his hand to his lips.

  And blew.

  Chapter 4

  Prue concentrated on the kids’ painting as it floated up to the wall above the newly formed mantle. It really was the kind of artwork only a mother could love. Or a very, very caring aunt. Prue wanted more than anything to be that aunt, but she still felt a bit uncomfortable around her nieces and nephews. It was hard enough coming back to a sister she’d never known, but the tiny little humans that looked a bit like mini Pipers, Phoebes, and Paiges were another thing entirely. And there were so many of them. Her sisters had been quite busy in recent years.

  It wasn’t that Prue didn’t like children. Quite the opposite. She’d always dreamed of a little Prue Jr. of her own. She’d never imagined that Phoebe would be the one naming her firstborn daughter that instead. Piper, sure, but Phoebe? That was how Prue finally realized how much her death had affected the family. When even Phoebe—the sister she’d nagged most of her life—wanted to carry on the tradition of names that began with P starting with Prue’s, it was almost too much to bear.

  It was hard enough to forge a connection with the little ones when she had free rein to visit as she pleased. Now it would be nearly impossible. Piper could joke about babysitting all she wanted, but it wasn’t like Prue could drop everything and get to the Manor whenever the need arose.

  Once the painting was hung, Prue adjusted the size of the mantle so that it balanced out the picture perfectly. She was still getting used to her new powers, but the ability to manipulate her environment was a decorator’s dream. It was a shame that Piper was the only one around to enjoy her work.

  “What do you think?” Prue asked.

  “It looks great,” Piper said. “But are you sure you want to put it in such a prominent place? I mean, we usually keep the kids’ stuff on the refrigerator.”

  Prue joined her sister back on the couch. “I’d have to make a pretty big refrigerator for that picture. I like it there. Besides, I doubt I’ll be using this room for entertaining too often, so it’s not like any of my guests will be judging me for it.”

  “What about your roommate?” Piper asked.

  “Cole’s not my roommate,” Prue said. “He’s more like another inmate. One that gets to come and go as he pleases.”

  “And he’s gone where?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t keep track of him. Frankly, I’m glad that he’s not alway
s underfoot. It’s not like we were best buddies back before we both died. We’re just getting accustomed to this situation. How about giving us some time to figure it out before we get the third degree?” Prue got up off the couch. She had to move.

  “I’m just trying to help,” Piper said.

  Prue smiled at her sister. “The curse of the middle child. Always the mediator. Always the fixer. I can’t imagine how hard my leaving was on you.”

  Piper got off the couch as well, taking Prue’s hands in hers again. “It was hell on earth. But you’re back now, and I’m not letting go.” She wrapped her sister in her arms again. “More hugs!”

  Prue returned the embrace, laughing, then squeezed a little tighter when she felt something shift inside her.

  “What’s wrong?” Piper asked immediately. She was always in tune with her sister’s feelings.

  Prue released Piper from their hug, but held on to her for support. “Something’s off. Something . . . happened.”

  “What? Where?”

  Prue closed her eyes and concentrated. “It’s not here. It’s not me. It’s . . . something.”

  “Prue, the living room is moving.” Piper said, trying—and failing—to keep the worry from her voice.

  Prue didn’t need to hear Piper’s voice to be concerned. This wasn’t anything she was doing. The Nexus was acting up. And that was not good.

  This wasn’t the first time Prue had lived above a Spiritual Nexus. There weren’t many convergence points of energy on Earth, but they weren’t as rare as one might think. There was one under the Halliwell Manor—a point equidistant from the five Wiccan elements that had its own brand of magic. Many in the magical community considered that point a symbolic seat of power that could be swayed for good or evil.

  The convergence point beneath the Manor was nothing compared to the Nexus of the All. “I’m connecting with the Nexus,” Prue said. “It’s trying to tell me something.”

  “Could you get it to talk faster? The floor is undulating. I’ve got to . . . whoa!”

  “Get on the couch,” Prue said.

  “It just dropped through the floor!”

  Prue hadn’t known about the All when she was alive, but every religion had stories about it, though it went by different names. The All was a spiritual energy that touched everything. It was the source of all magic, whether wielded by the good or the evil. It even controlled those beings that did not have access to their own magic. It was everywhere. And the Nexus of the All was its source. It was the point where magic united the realms. At this place, anything was possible, and Prue was living right above it.

  The Nexus of the All filled Prue’s mind with images: a young woman, sparkling herbs, and an old, weathered book. Prue couldn’t make sense of the visions, but she sensed the danger. She felt hollow in her soul. Empty.

  “Prue!”

  Her eyes popped open as the images flew from her mind. Piper was on the ground beside her. The living room was a shambles. The couch was gone. Cracks ran through the floor and walls. The kids’ painting hung askew over the mantle. On her arm, Prue saw that her tattoos had shifted. This wasn’t unusual, as the art on her arm changed all the time, somehow linked to the magic of the Nexus. A pentagram glowed in white on her wrist.

  She pressed the pentagram, bringing order to the chaos. Suddenly, the images she’d seen made sense.

  Prue helped Piper off the floor. “There’s some kind of imbalance to the magic. It’s in Connecticut. Hartford. A witch was attacked by . . . something. That part’s still a jumble.”

  “A demon?”

  “No . . . maybe. I can’t tell. It felt . . . human. But something else. Something more.”

  “How do you know that?” Piper asked. “Hartford’s on the other side of the world.”

  “I just know.” Prue used the power she could control to bring the couch back up through the floor. “I guess it’s another way that I’m tied to the Nexus. What it knows, I know. Well, this is just the gift that keeps on giving.”

  Piper cautiously took a seat on the returned couch. “And the Nexus had to nearly kill us in the process of passing along that information?”

  “No,” Prue said. “That wasn’t the Nexus. I think it was me. I guess I kind of . . . lost control of the magic. It caught me off guard. I don’t know how to listen to it yet. How to take it in.”

  Prue noticed Piper’s eyes flick to the painting. Of course her thoughts would go to her children. If this place could swallow couches whole, how much easier would it be to devour a child? So much for Auntie Prue getting babysitting duty now.

  “You can feel something happening in Hartford?” Piper said instead.

  “In that moment, I could feel everything happening everywhere,” Prue said. “I could feel the energy that runs through the entire world. I always can. Normally, I hardly notice. It’s in the background like white noise. But now . . . there was some kind of interruption. A break in the energy or something. It’s a little scary.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Probably something the Charmed Ones should check out,” Prue suggested.

  “Speak of the devils,” Piper said as bright white-blue orbs began to gather in the living room.

  “Careful,” Prue said. “You never know with us. The devil could appear.”

  The tiny orbs continued to drop from nowhere as they formed the other two Charmed Ones and Prue’s third and fourth sisters. Prue never had the chance to know Paige while she was alive the first time, but she’d come to discover that the Power of Three couldn’t have fallen into more perfect hands. In order for that power to continue to grow, Prue had to relinquish her ties to magic that ran through the line of witches that had descended from her ancestor, Melinda Warren. It was the hardest decision she’d ever made in her lives, but it was also the most rewarding. She got another sister—another Warren Witch—in exchange.

  Paige wrapped Prue in a hug the moment she’d completed the orb. “Look who I—”

  “Chat later, fight evil now,” Piper said, taking her sister by the hand.

  Phoebe barely had enough time to check out the living room, but Prue could see the sudden glimpse of relief on her face. Prue couldn’t be sure if it was due to the fact that Cole wasn’t around or that they had to go as quickly as they’d arrived.

  “Oh, are we leaving?” Phoebe asked. “Pity. Hi, Prue. Bye, Prue!”

  “Nice to see you too,” she said to Phoebe before holding her arm out to Paige. “Here. Place your finger on the tattoo. It should take you where you need to go.”

  Paige eyed the tattoo skeptically. “Your arm is a GPS device now?”

  “Something like that,” Prue said. “No time to explain. An Innocent is in danger.”

  Paige didn’t ask another question. She placed a finger on the pentagram on Prue’s arm, then looked up in her sister’s eyes. She suddenly knew all that Prue had to tell her. Paige took Piper and Phoebe by the hands. “Thanks!”

  Prue watched as her sisters’ bodies broke up into thousands of tiny orbs again, rose into the air, and were sent off halfway around the world.

  Flying far away from her.

  Prue sighed. It was one of the few times Piper had left her since Prue had become trapped on the Nexus. She hated that she couldn’t go with her sisters to help protect their Innocent. She missed her old role in the fight against evil, but—even though they’d only left a moment ago—she missed her family even more.

  “The Cole I remember wasn’t big on hiding,” Prue eventually said. She didn’t need any supernatural powers to tell her that she wasn’t entirely alone. “Actually, scratch that. There was a certain amount of lurking going on back then, if I recall correctly.”

  Cole entered the living room with his trademark smirk. “I wasn’t hiding. I keep getting lost with the changing walls and floors in this place.”

  “O
ne room. I’ve changed one room so far. But now that Piper’s gone I don’t have to hold back.” She raised her arms. “But you should hold on to something.”

  Cole took a seat on the couch as Prue waved her arms like a conductor. She wasn’t sure that the movement was necessary, but she was used to activating her magic through some sort of physical movement. Old habits died hard.

  The rest of the building shifted from the Manor to a more modern castle. The interior of her new, magically created home was something out of Architectural Digest, the complete collection. It was everything she’d always dreamed of having in life, but she’d never had the finances to make it happen. But now that she could have it in the blink of an eye, it left her cold. Having all this stuff at her disposal wasn’t nearly as rewarding if she could just whip it up with a wave of the arm.

  Once she was done, Prue realized Cole was no longer sitting on the couch. He was outside on the newly formed balcony. Prue went out to join him and even she was surprised to see her new home was floating higher in the air. The sky above them was all pinks, yellows, and blues as the sun set over the desert.

  “Someone took the idea of a home being a castle a bit too far,” Cole said.

  Prue batted her eyes at him innocently. “What? You don’t like turrets? Turrets are awesome.”

  “Don’t you think this place is a bit big for the two of us?” Cole asked. “I get that it wasn’t your choice to have me move in here, but do you really need to keep a dozen rooms between us on multiple floors?”

  Prue checked out what she could see of the exterior from the balcony. Maybe she had gone a little overboard, but there didn’t seem to be any reason to hold back. “I have a big family. With a place like this, they’ll always feel welcome.”

  “And they’ll always feel like royalty,” Cole said.

  Prue gave him a playful swat on the arm. “Why are you complaining? Now you’ve got more places to hide. Where have you been today?”