Ghost Light

The cute apprentice witch stood behind the counter removing plastic wrapping from lengths of knotted rope.  The blond girl’s hair was streaked with red instead of the purple she’d been fond of the past few months and she wore a bright, puffed-sleeved, button-down shirt to match.

“Hi, Arachne,” I said.  “Slow morning?”

“You have no idea,” she said.  Arachne slipped a decorative noose around her neck and tilted her head to the side, tongue hanging out of her mouth.  The image was grisly, and disturbing.  I hoped I never saw the teen witch like that again.  The image hit too close to drawings in Kaye’s books of the Burning Times.  “It’s totally dead in here today.  Get it?  Dead.”

I forced a smile and tried to sound lighthearted, but I’m pretty sure I failed.  Death was no laughing matter, especially where my mortal friends were concerned.  I sighed.  Maybe I was becoming too serious.  I was having a harder time shrugging off death now that I’d been at its door more than once.

“Is Kaye around?” I asked.

“In the back,” Arachne said.

Arachne let the rope drop, wearing the noose like a macabre necklace.  I pulled my gaze from her neck and turned my attention to the merchandise underfoot.  I made my way through the constantly shifting maze of magic ephemera to the back of the shop.

At the door to Kaye’s spell kitchen, I took a calming breath and raised my hand to knock, but a noise from within made me hesitate.  I listened at the door, hearing what sounded like a muffled incantation.  Kaye could get cranky if I interrupted one of her spells, not to mention the unknown effect my barging in would have on a powerful casting.  I decided to wait for Kaye in her office.  I don’t like waiting around, but it’s better than being turned into a toad any day.

I loped further down the hall and let myself into the office.  The room was small and crowded with Kaye’s occult library, but it would provide a place to wait the time and examine my mother’s jewelry box in private.

I climbed over scattered papers and random spell components, careful not to touch anything.  I judiciously placed my booted feet in the rare bare spots scattered throughout the room, the trip to the one chair in the office becoming a challenging game of Twister.  Thank Mab this game didn’t demand Jell-O shots or I’d be ass deep in centuries of visions.  And not just any visions, but the visions of madmen.

I am always careful when handling any of the books in Kaye’s arcane library.  This comes from a healthy dose of paranoia and a desire to keep my sanity, something the original owners of these scrolls and spell tomes often failed at.  Magic, especially powerful magic, has a price.  Immortals aren’t the only ones who become unhinged over time.  Witches who use too much magic, or who dabble in the dark arts, tend to go stark raving mad.

I eyed the towering stacks of books and shuddered.  The information in these documents was invaluable to my investigations, but Kaye’s filing system sucked.  I wished she’d consider something safer, like glass-fronted bookcases bolted to the walls.  The books were piled one on top of the other, some cover to cover and others end to end, making the act of retrieving a book a game of potentially deadly Jenga.  Thankfully, I wasn’t here for research.  I just needed a place to sit and study the box in my pocket.

I squeezed behind Kaye’s desk, a stack of books towering precariously at my back.  I cautiously held the front of my jacket close to my body as I passed around the tight corner.  Too bad I hadn’t thought to remove the stakes at my belt.

The wood scraped and caught on something and the entire stack of books wobbled.  I froze, holding my breath.  I turned my head to see where I was stuck.  The end of one of my stakes had become wedged into the curve of a leather binding.  I bent my knees and slowly shifted a half-step, dislodging the wood.  I let out a shaky breath and rested my gloved hands on the desk in front of me.  That had been close, too close.

I leaned forward and slid the stakes from my belt.  I sucked in my stomach to make myself as small as possible and pressed my body against the desk.  This time I made it past the tower of books unscathed.

I dropped down onto the desk chair and wiped the back of my glove across my forehead.  I had no idea how my witch friend navigated the office with her swirl of layered skirts and shawls.  Knowing Kaye, she probably used magic.

I pulled the jewelry box from my pocket and upended the bag my mother had sealed it in.  The box was made of silver and the lid was engraved with flowers and vines which twined around the corners, framing a picture set into the center.  From beneath the glass panel, a happy couple smiled up at me.  It was a picture of my mother and father.