"Yeah, that's enough. According to Naomi, it is old magic and she thinks the only one around here who has the knowledge or power to pull it off is someone named Morgan. A lawyer from Seattle. That's all we have." Frankie said, joining Helen next to the bed.
"A witch, a lawyer from Seattle, named Morgan, did this to Diedre? Whatever for?" Darro piped up for the first time.
"We don't know. We don't know who Morgan is or why they did this. But we need to find out if we are going to help Diedre." Helen replied, giving Diedre's foot a light squeeze. There was no response from her.
"Kat sent over a list of names she wants us to look at. It should be in your email. She has her friend, Jimmy, helping with the research." Mel said, sitting back down in the chair. She was scrolling on her phone as she spoke.
"Not sure it was a good idea to get Jimmy involved,” Frankie said, pulling out her phone to open her email. “But if Kat trusts him, I guess it’s okay." The three women were staring at their screens, reading over the names.
"It's daft that someone would do this to Diedre. It makes me so damnable angry. There is nothing to be done about it. I feel so damn helpless." Darro said, arms folded across his considerable bulk. Helen hadn't exchanged more than a few words with him in the past and yet she knew a good bit about him from Diedre. He sounded like a kind man and he always treated Diedre well. Helen could see the anxiety all over his face.
"I know, but we'll find a way to help her, Darro. I promise." Helen said, hoping she sounded reassuring. At least they had a name to figure out. It was more than they had when she woke up this morning.
"Wait. Morgan Cornwall. I know that name. Why do I know that name?" Frankie said, staring blankly at the wall, obviously searching her mind for some recollection. Helen didn't say a word for fear of distracting her. Darro and Mel must have decided the same thing. The only sounds were beeping equipment from Diedre's bedside. The yellow aura draped over her like some kind of breathing tent.
Minutes seemed to go by before Frankie roused from her stare down with the wall. She snapped her head and turned toward Helen.
"Yes, of course. It was when I was a student at the university. That's where I know her from. Oh, that damn sorority."
"You better tell us what you remember. Let's go down to the cafeteria. Darro, can you keep an eye on Diedre?" Helen asked, watching the big man nod sternly.
"Ye don't need to even ask. Get on w' ya and figure this out."
"So about ten years ago, when I was a sophomore, there were these girls - young women by then - who were seniors. Five or six of them, as I recall. I don't remember all their names but I remember M.C. and Alice and Morgan. M.C. and I were in the same poetry studies class. Alice and Morgan were her besties. They were in a sorority together, Zeta Theta Mu, and they were inseparable. The reason I remember them is they hexed this poor girl in my class." Frankie paused for a moment, waiting for a passerby to move on.
"The girl's name was Ivy, I think. And she had been seen with Alice's boyfriend at a kegger or something. Who knows. Anyway, word gets back to Alice and then all hell breaks loose. Ivy starts missing class, no one knows what is going on with her, rumors are flying around that she lost her campus job, she broke a tooth, her car was stolen - all this weird, random crap. One day, after class, I'm walking by M.C. and I hear her talking to Alice. The two are bragging it up about the hex and how that will teach the boyfriend thief not to mess with one of them. Word gets around that Ivy has dropped out of school. I never saw her after that."
"So you think Morgan Cornwall is the same as the one who was in that sorority?" Helen asked while Mel had her phone out, scrolling and typing quickly.
"Yep, I would bet they are one and the same. She was into darker magic then, no reason to think she'd stop now." Frankie replied.
"Morgan Cornwall, partner of Wallace, Wallace, and Cornwall, graduated from the University of Washington Magna Cum Laude before attending Pepperdine Law School. She was a proud member of the Business and Law Society, the Fencing club, and Zeta Theta Mu, where she was a founding member and Sorority President her senior year." Mel read from her phone.
"I think we've found our witch," said Helen.
Charms
Okay, so we think we know who is behind the curse. Now, what are we going to do about it?" Mel asked the pair.
"I am going to contact the Witches' Council and ask them to intervene. This was an unfounded attack and there should be consequences." Helen replied, already thinking about how she would present the matter. The sooner she reached out to the Council, the sooner they could demand this Morgan person remove the curse.
"Are you going to call them up and have a witch video chat? What is the plan? The Council doesn't convene in person until the Festival." Frankie said, keeping her voice almost too quiet to hear.
"No, we don't have time for that. I am going to the Head of the Council and demand action. She's someone I've known for years so I can drop by without too much fuss. Mel, can you give Frankie a ride back to her car? I'm going to head to Rachelle's office right now." Helen stood up and gathered her purse and jacket from the cafeteria booth.
"Yeah, of course. Let us know how it goes and what we can do to help."
"Maybe help Frankie finish those protection charms for everyone. I have a feeling we might be pissing off a powerful witch."
Sage pulled her car into the parking lot for Westwood Elementary in a foul mood. If it wasn't bad enough that her sister-in-law was butting in and making veiled accusations, now she had to deal with Gabbi and Grace getting into a fight on the playground. She should’ve checked her horoscope for this week because it must have read "stay at home, in your bed, and speak to no one".
"Can I help you?" The secretary at the counter asked in a chipper voice.
"I'm here to see the Vice Principal for a meeting about Grace and Gabbi Philips." This was Sage's first trip to the Principal's office since her own days in school and she wasn't pleased to be back.
"Yes, she's waiting for you. Go on back." The secretary waved her through the small swinging doors that presumably kept people out of the administrative area. Sage crossed through and saw the office for Mrs. Reynolds in front of her. She knocked before poking her head in the open door. Gabbi and Grace were sitting at a small table, coloring.
"Hello, Mrs. Reynolds. Hello, girls." Sage said, giving them both a look that was part greeting and part "you are in trouble". A small "Hi, Mom" came back in stereo.
"Hello, Mrs. Philips. Sorry we have to meet under less than ideal circumstances." The younger woman came from behind her desk, extending her hand. Sage wasn't sure if they were the same age but they probably were close. When did Vice Principals become so young?
"We had an incident on the playground," Mrs. Reynolds continued, gesturing for Sage to sit. "Gabbi and Grace started a fight with another child and there was hair-pulling and tugging on clothing. As you know, we have a zero tolerance bullying policy."
"What started this all? That doesn't sound like something they would do. Girls?" Sage turned to look at the pair and they both looked up at her, clearly close to tears.
"Mom, it wasn't our fault. Stephanie started it with name-calling. She wouldn't stop. We told her to, but she kept doing it." Gabbi said, the chattier of the pair. Grace fiercely nodded next to her.
"Name-calling isn't very nice but it doesn't mean you get to pull someone's hair. What was she calling you?" Sage asked, wondering where Stephanie and her parents were in all this mess.
"Oh, she wasn't calling us names. She was calling you names. She used the B word and then said you were witchy, you know like a rhyme. I don't want to say it." Gabbi replied.
Sage turned back to look at Mrs. Reynolds, not sure what to say. Her children had been protecting their mother from the taunts of other children.
"So where do we go from here, Mrs. Reynolds?"
"For the hair-tugging and pulling on the child's clothes, I could suspend them for three days. But..." Mrs. Reynolds paused, a tho
ught clearly on her mind.
"In light of the situation with their father, let's make this a warning, shall we?" The Vice Principal began jotting down something on a form in front of her. No doubt that form would be in the files for Sage's girls throughout elementary school, maybe beyond.
"I appreciate that, I do. What about the other child? Is there a consequence for her actions?" Sage was sure she knew the answer but she wanted to hear Mrs. Reynolds say it.
"I can't discuss another child's situation with you, surely you understand. I will say that words are generally not something that garner suspensions or written warnings. Unless the words are hate speech of course."
"So calling someone's mother a Bitchy Witchy isn't bad enough to warrant getting in trouble? That hardly seems fair. Gabbi and Grace should never have touched the girl but they were also defending their mother. That should count for something." Sage said, rising from her seat. She was getting angrier by the minute. Her girls now had a written warning because some troublemaker was calling her names.
"I understand this is frustrating for you but let's remember that it is sticks and stones, not words, that break our bones, right?" Mrs. Reynolds gave a quick laugh and Sage did not join her. She saw nothing funny in this situation.
"At a minimum, I think the child should be required to write an apology for causing this whole thing." Sage slung her purse over her shoulder and gestured for the girls to get up from the small table.
"We are going to go home now." Without waiting for permission, Sage ushered her daughters out of the office and out into the April afternoon.
"We'll talk about this more at home. Go ahead and get in the car." Sage said to them both and they skipped over to the car. Parents were starting to arrive for afternoon pickups and Sage saw a huddle of them moving toward the front door. If she was right, Stephanie's mother was one of them.
"Mrs. Philips, do you have a minute?" A voice from the cluster called out and Sage stopped to wait for them.
"Can I help you?" She replied flatly.
"Yes, I think you can. Please talk to your girls about the 'hands to yourself' rule. I don't appreciate them touching my daughter." Stephanie's mother had a trio of other women around her who were nodding like a group of bobble-head dolls. The effect was almost comical.
"I plan on having a conversation with my girls about several things. About not calling people names and not letting bullies goad you into making bad choices. Perhaps you should have a conversation with Stephanie as well." Sage stepped down from the sidewalk toward her car.
"Hey, if the broom fits, right? If you aren't proud to be a devil worshiper or whatever you are, you shouldn't do it. And you certainly shouldn't involve your children in your twisted ways." Without even looking back, Sage knew there was a finger pointed at her, and it was something she hated. If she turned around, she might really lose her temper.
"You and your daughter might want to get your facts straight before you start insulting people. The only twisted and devilish behavior is someone who lets their kid torment others. You all have a really nice day, okay?" Sage practically spat the words, striding toward her car. She'd have to really try to relax after this afternoon. Maybe some yoga and a little Pinot Noir.
"Mom, are you mad at us?" Gabbi asked as soon as Sage was in the car.
"No, I am not mad. I am disappointed that you let a nit-wit get you into trouble, but no, I am not mad. I think we need some ice cream, don't you?" Sage resisted the temptation to make a rude hand gesture at the gaggle of mothers still gawping at her and she considered that a victory. Would it be so bad if she hexed them with flat tires? Yes, it probably would be. But so satisfying if she did.
Helen drove the Auburn-Enumclaw highway until she came to the junction for Highway 18. It was early enough in the afternoon that the traffic wasn't too bad, at least getting there. Getting home would be another story. Commuting anywhere in the Puget Sound region was rather a nightmare these days, even for a witch.
She hadn't been in touch with Rachelle for awhile; they were a notch or two below "friends" - more like friendly acquaintances. Helen worked in insurance and their paths had crossed when Rachelle's business had a claim. Rachelle worked as an architect, designing buildings that had a lower impact on the environment. Her firm was tucked into a little office complex in Federal Way, near a yoga studio and an orthodontist. She also happened to be serving her second term as Head of the Witches' Council for the greater Pacific Northwest.
Helen wondered if she should have called, perhaps to make an appointment. It was entirely possible that Rachelle wasn't even at work today. It would have been prudent to have called before tearing off to ask for a meeting. That would have been the normal way Helen would have reacted, but the sight of Diedre, withering in that hospital bed had driven any thought of decorum out the window. Helen had to just hope the Rachelle was available.
Pulling into the small complex, Helen managed to find the last parking spot available. Either it was busy season at the yoga studio or a crowd was getting their dental work. She gave her keyfob a click and walked over to the glass door with the lettering "Greener Globe, Architects". The door chimed lightly as she entered the beige space.
"May I help you?"
"I am hoping to see Rachelle Curley. Is she in today? It is urgent."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No, I am afraid I don't, but we're friends and I really need to see her." Well, friendly if not friends, but the receptionist didn't need to know that.
"Let me see if she is available. What is your name?"
"Helen Griffith, from Enumclaw."
"Just one moment." The receptionist punched a few buttons and then murmured into her headset. There was a pause and then she turned back to Helen.
"She can see you. Please follow me." The receptionist, who might have been seventeen if she was a day, led Helen along the corridor to the office in the back. Rachelle stood at the doorway.
"Thanks, Jeanie. Call Dad and let him know we'll pick up take-out on our way home tonight. My daughter, helping out with the phone today." Rachelle said, gesturing for Helen to enter her office. It was floor to ceiling white and glass.
"Thank you for seeing me on short notice, Rachelle. I appreciate it. I wouldn't have come if it weren't urgent." Helen took the leather seat offered to her. She sincerely hoped she didn't have anything on her pants that might smudge that pristine white.
"No problem. I'm assuming it is some emergency with the Festival?" Rachelle sat behind her desk, glass with sleek, silver legs. Helen couldn't help but wonder how she avoided getting fingerprints all over it. Perhaps a small protection spell on the glass to repel them. Helen herself had used that at her own house.
"No, actually. I need to petition the Council to sanction a witch. Morgan Cornwall. She has cursed a member of my Coven." Helen saw Rachelle's surprise and the woman pulled out a legal pad from a discrete stack on a low filing cabinet.
"That's a serious accusation, Helen. Tell me what prompts it." The faint scratching of a number two pencil on paper filled the quiet of the room. Helen told Rachelle everything she knew and Rachelle filled her tablet with notes. When Helen was done, Rachelle set the pencil down carefully next to the pad.
"From what you have told me, you don't have hard evidence that Morgan Cornwall is involved - just a recollection of something from college days and the word of a disgraced witch. That isn't enough for the Council to take action. We would need direct proof that Morgan was involved before we could sanction her. Honestly, we don't have enough here to even inquire if she was involved." Rachelle interlaced her fingers and looked sympathetically at Helen. It was almost a "my hands are tied" gesture.
"Rachelle, what are we supposed to do? Diedre is in the hospital and she is getting weaker every day. We think there is a strong connection between the curse and Morgan Cornwall. At least, can't you ask her what she might know about it?" Helen had never felt more helpless. What was the point of a governing Council if they were
n't going to do anything?
"Officially, as Head Witch of the Council? No, I can't do that. Unofficially, I will poke around and see what I can find out. As a favor. But unless you bring me real evidence of her involvement - a witness, something tying her to the curse - there is nothing the Council can do." Rachelle stood up, walking back toward the door. Helen's impromptu meeting was over.
"Thank you, Rachelle, for making the time. I hope you can find out something - unofficially - but we aren't going to stop until we get to the bottom of what happened."
"I would expect nothing less for a Sister of your Coven. Please keep me posted if you find out anything. Otherwise, I'll see you at the Festival." Helen and Rachelle walked the hallway back to the front door and then Helen exited into the small parking lot, no better off than when she arrived.
The Coven was on their own.
Omens
Helen didn't have the heart to text the group about the dead end. The whole drive back to Enumclaw, she stewed on exactly what they could do next but she was coming up empty. They could try to counteract the curse, but if Naomi was right, it wouldn't work and Helen herself knew that blindly casting spells could cause more harm than good. They could reach out to Morgan and try to confront her, but if she really had cursed Diedre, she wouldn't admit it to them and then she would be on to their suspicions. They were in a bad spot.
"Maybe we could put a hex on her to make her tell the truth," Helen muttered as she watched the light turn green. She had never hexed anyone in her life but it certainly seemed justified in this instance. It wouldn't be that hard to cast it - but the cost to Helen and Coven had to be considered. Magic comes back at the witch three-fold - good or bad. Even if the hex was justified, did they want that risk? Why would Morgan want that risk for cursing Diedre, someone she didn't know? It all made no sense.
Pink Moon Rising: The Witches of Enumclaw Book One Page 5
