Interrupted Magic Page 4

  “So you’ve mentioned.” I wiped my hands on a towel while Daria turned onto our street. “This should be her last visit.”

  He folded his arms. “I’m sticking around until she’s gone.”

  “I thought you were sticking around for breakfast, or are we done talking?”

  When he didn’t answer, I detoured to my workshop, grabbed a bean pot and a Bunsen burner, and met Daria on the patio.

  “I found the things you told me to get,” she said. “I had to go to the nursery to get the castor bean stem and the mistletoe, and I brought a tomato. Will that work?”

  “Sounds perfect.” I cleaned the ingredients with the garden hose, put them into my bean pot along with some water, lit the burner and gave them a minute to cook. “I need to get a mug. I’ll be right back.”

  “You’re going to make me drink that? Isn’t mistletoe poisonous?”

  “It can be, but not the part of the plant you brought, and not from the quantity you’ll be drinking.”

  Daria took a step back, stumbled at the edge of the patio, and fell to the ground. Tears welled in her eyes. She pulled her knees to her chest. “I don’t suppose I have a choice. You sure it won’t kill me?”

  I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m sure.”

  “I guess I’m desperate enough to try anything.”

  While I mixed the concoction, she took a box from her purse and set the payment she’d promised on the patio table, a beautiful dreamcatcher with colorful feathers and beadwork. A handmade tag detailed the dreamcatcher legend on one side and was personally signed on the other. If she’d been able to buy the ingredients at a nursery instead of finding them growing in the wild, she could have afforded to pay me in cash, but we’d struck our bargain.

  When the first bubbles boiled in the pot, I turned off the flame. A car turned onto the street—Nora’s. Kyle and I hadn’t had a chance to finish our discussion, which increasingly felt like formalizing the end of our relationship.

  “Great,” Kyle mumbled from the doorway, clearly as frustrated as I was. “Nora’s here.”

  I poured some of the potion into the mug and gave him a glare. He knew Nora visited every Sunday. I refocused my attention on Daria.

  “Now, before you drink, you need to ask for absolution from Madeleine.”

  “But I didn’t do anything wrong. Her brother did steal the car.”

  I held the mug away from her. “This is important. In her mind, you bear some of the responsibility for what happened, whether it was justified or not. You turned him in.”

  Daria pushed to her feet, her lips pressed tightly together.

  “I have to remind you, you will get sick after you drink this, but that will be an indication the spell is leaving you.”

  She snatched the mug from my hand. “Forgive me, Madeleine. I didn’t mean to send your brother to jail.” She downed the contents, gagged, and returned the cup to me. “But he did steal the car.”

  “Kyle?” Nora’s voice sounded worried, I turned to look. Kyle sat on the floor inside the house like a ragdoll.

  “Are we done here?” Daria asked.

  So much for a sincere apology. There wasn’t anything more I could do for her. “Yeah.”

  Daria stalked away and I rushed into the house.

  I knelt beside Kyle and cradled his head. He opened his eyes and for a moment, I saw a dark flash there. “What happened?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” He pushed to his feet. “One minute I was watching you, the next I was laid out on the floor.”

  Nora fluttered across the room in her flowing caftan. “What were you doing?” she asked me.

  “Helping someone.” I raised my eyebrows, to indicate it was a discussion for another time.

  Kyle started for the door and tripped on the threshold.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, reaching for him.

  “Just clumsy. I’ll be across the street if you need me.”

  Was I supposed to follow him?

  Nora stood beside me as we watched him go, then turned to me. “What’s going on?”

  I filled her in on Daria and the spell I had sought to lift.

  “Oh, dear.”

  My heart stuttered. “Oh dear?”

  “What did you give that young lady?”

  “The recipe was in the grimoire.” I pointed toward the workroom.

  “The grimoire in the wall?”

  Nora was making me nervous with her questions. “No. One of the recipe books on the shelves.”

  She blew out a sigh.

  I hesitated. “I did look at the hidden grimoire the other day, to find out about casting a spell to atone for a wrong.”

  “And?”

  Kyle had walked in before I finished reading, chasing the book to its hiding place. “I assumed when the recipe grimoire gave me the potion for Daria, it meant I should remove the spell.”

  Nora’s eyes glittered. “Show me.”

  The hidden grimoire appeared on the dining table. My stomach did somersaults as the pages flipped. What had I screwed up this time?

  Nora stepped to the book first. I looked over her shoulder, reading the part I’d missed after Kyle had come in.

  Proceed with caution. If a spell has been performed, it could well be protective in nature.

  To determine the purpose of the magic, look for these signs:

  Confirm the afflicted person has had contact with a witch.

  Be sure the afflicted person’s behavior is unusual. It is possible they are simply having a run of bad luck. If fortune has frowned on said person, traditional uncrossing rituals will set things to rights.

  Ask if the afflicted person is missing personal items or photos.

  An interrupted spell runs the risk of transferring to another host.

  “The grimoire gave me the potion,” I sputtered.

  I closed my eyes, knowing in my heart the spell had transferred to Kyle. He’d tripped on the threshold.

  My voice cracked. “Daria apologized.”

  Her apology hadn’t been sincere.

  I turned to Nora, panic rising. “How do I fix this?”

  Nora traced her finger down the page. “You can bounce the spell back to her, assuming it has actually transferred to Kyle.

  I raised my eyebrows. She’d seen him trip.

  “Yes, well,” she said. “You should call that woman back.”

  “She’s gone, and I have no idea how to find her. All I know is her name.”

  “It’s a start.”

  “What if I can’t find her?” I read over Nora’s shoulder. The page flipped once more.

  To discern satisfaction of a spell. Have the affected person hold a stalk of flowering gladiolus. Dip the stem into a pot of henna and incant the spell:

  Inscribe that which has been required that I may proceed with honor.

  “Can Kyle do that?” I whispered.

  “If the spell has transferred, it would seem so.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s already unhappy Daria came to the house. If I tell him I screwed up and transferred a curse to him...” He’d laugh at me. He didn’t believe in the magic. Isn’t that what he’d said last night?

  “You need to tell him.” Nora nodded toward the window. “He’s on his way over.”

  Chapter 7

  Kyle walked into the kitchen, unnaturally pale and cradling his left arm.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  His voice was strained. “I was installing the ceiling fan in the living room and lost my balance. I think I dislocated my shoulder. I need you to drive me to the emergency room.”

  “You go on ahead,” Nora said. “I’m going to see if I can run down those flowers the book called out. You don’t grow gladiolus, do you?”

  “No.”

  She pushed me toward the door. “I’ll have a bouquet ready when you get back.”

  I grabbed my purse and we headed to the garage.

  If the spell had transferred to Kyle, it was
responsible for his fall. What would happen when he went to Door County, working with all those power tools? I shuddered to think. Maybe the dislocated shoulder was a blessing in disguise. He couldn’t work while he was hurt, could he?

  Knowing him, he’d try.

  I helped him into the car and drove to the hospital.

  “Sorry to intrude on your time with Nora,” he said with more than a little sarcasm.

  I shot him a glance, surprised he could still be angry while his face was screwed up with pain.

  “Better or worse, sickness and health,” I recited.

  “This isn’t what you signed up for.”

  “I’m not complaining about my end of the bargain.” I tightened my shoulders, preparing to tell him about Daria’s visit. He’d promised me he was okay with my extra abilities, but lately he’d been dismissing them as the power of suggestion. Regardless, he had to know about the spell that had traveled from Daria to him. “Once the doctor gets you straightened out, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  “Might as well tell me now.”

  “Let’s wait until you’re at least marginally better. You’re not going to like it.”

  Kyle twisted in his seat. “Not sure how much worse this year could get.”

  We arrived at the hospital, and Kyle got out of the car. He didn’t wait for me to walk into the emergency room, and was already registering by the time I reached him.

  We waited fifteen silent minutes before he was called into an exam room, when he told me I could go home.

  “I’m not leaving,” I told him.

  “It could be a while. I’ve been through this with the medical part of my police training. They’ll have to do X-rays, which will take a while, and then whatever treatment they decide to do...”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  He scowled. “Then I guess you might as well keep me company.”

  Aside from talking to the doctor, Kyle remained stoically silent while they gave him pain meds. I waited when they took him for X-rays and after they’d popped his shoulder into place, we left the hospital, four hours after we arrived, with Kyle’s arm in a sling.

  “Whatever you want to tell me, now is probably a good time while I’m still medicated,” he said on the car ride home. He closed his eyes and leaned back.

  Right. Back to my special talents he didn’t believe in, but he had to know. I gave him the Cliff Notes version along with my suspicions his sudden bout of clumsiness was the result of the transferred spell, while voicing my concerns over accidents with power tools.

  “I’m sidelined for at least two weeks,” he said, “so no power tools.”

  I wasn’t reassured. “We need to find Daria and see about returning the spell to her. If she’d been truly sorry for what had happened, the spell would have been canceled.”

  Kyle shifted in the seat. “Wait. Do you know the name of the kid who stole the car? How long ago was this?”

  “Six months ago, according to Daria. All I know is the sister’s name is Madeleine.”

  “And you want me to do what now?” he asked.

  Nerves tickled my spine. “We need to know what will satisfy the spell. If it’s something simple, we can let the spell run its course. If not, we need to find a way to send it back to Daria to ride out.”

  “This writing with a flower trick is supposed to tell you what the goal of the magic is?”

  I nodded.

  “Fine. I’ll play along.” He relaxed into the seat again. “As long as it doesn’t do any more harm, might as well see what happens.”

  Did he believe I would intentionally hurt him? Tears welled in my eyes once more. He was humoring me.

  Nora was waiting beside the driveway when we got home. She helped Kyle out of the car as she glanced from him to me.

  “I told him.”

  She sighed. “Well then, we should get right to it. I was going to go to the florist in town, but while I was on the footpaths, I happened upon a beautiful garden. I knocked on the woman’s door and she was only too happy to cut me a bouquet of gladiolus. I set them in water and made a quick trip to Walmart for the henna.”

  “I’m supposed to magically know what to write?” Kyle asked.

  “Exactly,” Nora replied.

  He shook his head and let me lead him into the house. I settled him at the dining table while Nora retrieved the supplies the grimoire had called for.

  Kyle wiped his face with his right hand. “Can we get this over with so I can take a nap?”

  “I hope you’re right-handed.” Nora smiled at me over his head.

  He nodded in response.

  “It’ll only take a moment.” She handed him the cut flower and pushed the bowl of brown liquid closer.

  “Write with a flower. I feel stupid,” he said. “Am I supposed to make some shit up?”

  I sat beside him. “You’re going to ask the magic what it wants. Repeat after me. ‘Inscribe that which has been required that I may proceed with honor.’”

  “And then?”

  “The words will present themselves,” Nora said. “Think of it like a Ouija board.”

  “Right.” He sighed. “Tell me again?” He dipped the flower stalk into the henna and held his hand over the sheet of paper.

  I repeated the incantation, and when he echoed my words, his eyes closed while his hand moved across the page.

  On September 2, you will be arrested for possession. These charges will overturn my brother’s conviction. – Madeleine Stephens.

  Kyle’s head lolled back and he jerked upright with a half-snore. He blinked, as if to reorient himself after waking. He met my gaze and blinked once more. “Did it work?”

  I nodded and he read what he’d written.

  “Which means we have until Labor Day,” I said.

  “The you in this prediction is Daria, right?” Kyle asked.

  “It was. Until the spell traveled to you,” I pointed out.

  “Never happen,” he said firmly. “I don’t use drugs of any kind. You know that.”

  “If what Daria told me was true, the brother they arrested didn’t either. She said the evidence on the drug charge was sketchy.”

  “No.” Kyle shook his head. “That wouldn’t happen to me. Cops aren’t that sloppy or crooked.”

  I exchanged glances with Nora.

  Nora bowed her head and answered for me. “Under this scenario, it’s more likely the drugs would find a way to you rather than the police wouldn’t be doing their job properly.”

  Kyle took my arms, suddenly fully alert. “If I’m arrested for possession, I’ll never be able to work in law enforcement again. You have to fix this.”

  Chapter 8

  Labor Day was two weeks away, not much time to find Daria and send the spell back to her, the same two weeks Kyle was supposed to take to heal. Away from the construction site, any further accidents he might encounter shouldn’t be life threatening. Then again, the spell wasn’t looking for a life, it was for retribution.

  “Can we make the magic travel to someone else?” Kyle asked.

  Nora raised her eyebrows. “Who would you suggest?”

  “Daria works for me.” Kyle wrestled his computer from the end table with one hand and plopped down on the sofa. “You said she lived near here. What was her last name?”

  “Buckley,” I said.

  Nora leaned close and whispered. “Do you want me to stay?”

  I glanced out the window, at the fading sunlight. “No. I can manage.”

  She nodded. “Then I’m off. I have things to take care of at home.”

  I hugged her an extra moment, missing the time we normally spent working together and catching up. As she drove away, I waved from the kitchen window.

  “I’m not finding any listings,” Kyle said. “And her Facebook page is private.”

  I picked up the dreamcatcher Daria had used as payment. “She said she works local craft fairs. Try looking her up that way. In fact, even if her Facebook page is p
rivate, she might make craft fair posts public.”

  He clicked away on his computer.

  Would detective work improve his mood? Even if we found Daria, I didn’t know how to transfer the spell back to her. Would that be considered intentional magic? Once again, I was caught in a quandary.

  Madeleine Stephens. She was the author of the spell. I could contact her and tell her what happened, how Daria had duped me. What else was I supposed to think about Daria’s insincere apology?

  The clock was running. While Kyle chased down leads on Daria, I consulted my computer to find Madeleine. I shouldn’t have been surprised to find she had a web page offering magic for hire.

  With a glance over my screen at Kyle—he was focused on his own project—I clicked to Madeleine’s contact page. Aside from the usual social media platforms and a contact form, she didn’t offer a real-world address. I composed a message and sent it, hoping she wouldn’t laugh me off for trying to undo what she’d done.

  “You’d think if she was a crafter, she’d have a web presence to sell her stuff,” Kyle mumbled.

  “Agreed. You want me to check?” I asked.

  He glowered. “I was a police officer. I know how to look for this kind of thing.”

  Kyle’s posturing kicked up my hackles, but I restrained myself from commenting. He might seem better, but I was pretty sure he was still surrounded by those fragile eggshells. I shook my head. No point in telling him I’d already contacted Madeleine. The Internet made it easy to find people who wanted to be found, and as he’d mentioned, if she had a business, Daria would want to be found.

  I reached for the dreamcatcher once more and checked the tag. Along with the legend, she’d added the name of her business. “Try looking up DarBucks,” I told Kyle, giving him a new direction.

  “Found her. This post says she’s displaying at a craft show...” His expression fell. “Not until September 15. That’ll be too late.”

  “Is there a contact form?” I asked. “It might show her address, or at least provide a way to get in touch.”

  Kyle narrowed his eyes. “I know how to navigate a website.”

  Apparently, I’d stepped on one of his eggshells. I sat back and watched him work, this man I’d conceded to marry. Should marriage be a concession? I contemplated the way things tended to happen for a reason. Maybe Kyle getting laid off and subsequently postponing our wedding was meant to back us up a step. Or three.