Natural Witch

The shivers turned into prickles and I straightened up, fear worming into my middle. Flashes of burned bodies and zombie corpses invaded my mind. The feeling of power that had flooded my senses when I was reading that spell…

The memories rattled me, throwing me into a darker place.

Back into that church.

“Do you know of magic?” I asked in a strangled voice.

The glimmer in his eyes dulled. His gaze roamed my face, then my neck and shoulders. He leaned away from the table and dropped his hands into his lap. “I apologize. I think I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He rose and stepped behind the chair. His gaze went back to serious and intense, the brief sparks of humor from moments ago completely gone. “I know your fear. I know it with everything in my person. But remember this. As Nelson Mandela said, courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. If you hide from that powerful thing inside of you, it will take over in strange ways. It will rule you, and not you it.” He turned to go, but stopped mid-turn and swiveled back around. “And remember this also.” He touched a scarred finger to the center of his chest. “You don’t need fancy words or different languages. You don’t need more than what exists in the wild. You just need the strength of your will to make it so. Good luck, Penny Bristol.”

And with that, he was gone.

The increasing patter of raindrops sounded overhead, but I couldn’t move. My brain whirled with what he’d said, and more, the way he’d said it. Like he knew what I was going through. Like he’d been on the same journey at one point in his life, and he’d overcome the crippling fear.

Like he was encouraging me to overcome it as well.

I took a steadying breath and glanced at my gems and stones, replaying our conversation word for word.

It will rule you, and not you it.

The scenes in the church came back to me again. The decisions I’d made out of ignorance.

I did have some magic. How much or how little was still up for debate, but it was impossible to deny that if I continued to ignore the whole thing, I’d be acting out of fear…just like the stranger had urged me not to do. I’d be hiding from what I was. From finding out exactly what that meant.

Another thing occurred to me.

He hadn’t snickered at me once throughout that whole thing. He hadn’t made a jest at my expense, or a face that suggested he thought I was loony tunes. He’d been on my same page.

Emotion welled up, shifting things around in my chest. Excitement and anticipation built, along with anxiety.

Callie had said I could live in her house. That she had too much money for her own good and could cover my expenses. That would loosen the hold my mother had over me. It would erase my monetary obstacles.

Was I really contemplating accepting the dual-mages’ offer to train me?

Did I have any choice?

A sour face appeared within the front opening of my tent, followed by a wiry old body with droopy man boobs. I’d never seen a thin man with droopy man boobs until Albert, but there you had it. His white mustache curved down toward his chin, following the contours of his equally downturned mouth.

“Who are you trying to impress?” he asked.

I lifted my eyebrows. “You?”

“Bah!” He batted his hand through the air before pointedly looking at the sky. “Can’t you see? It’s starting to rain. There’ll be a storm tonight, mark my words. Those weather people wouldn’t know their business if it was handed to them.”

“Well…it is handed to them. Via a teleprompter.”

“You know what I mean. They said it’ll be light showers. Does that sky look like light showers to you?”

No, it did not. It looked like I needed to start building an ark.

“So what are you waiting for? A second all-clear?” He frowned at me.

“Did we get a first one?” I asked, standing.

He rolled his eyes and walked away.

That was probably a yes.

I stared at my gems and stones for a long moment before picking them up one at a time.

You just need the strength of your will to make it so.

But what was the “it”?

In a daze, I took my tent and whatnot down and piled it onto my cart. It was annoying to set up and take down every day, but management reserved the right to move us around or cancel us at any time. Clearly they thought keeping us mobile was the easiest way to handle things. For them.

The lane was mostly cleared away as I made my way out, and only one guest of the village was hurrying through the hardening rain. Even in a panic to keep from getting wet, he noticed the strange stain on the side of my umbrella.

I rotated it away from his judgmental eyes. I honestly had no idea what it was from, but it wouldn’t let the rain wash it away, and I never remembered to pick up a new umbrella when I was in the store.

At my car, I loaded everything in (the poles were always a problem) and sat in the driver’s seat, checking out the mostly empty parking lot. The afternoon sky, dark with clouds, rumbled in the distance. Albert had been exactly right. This wasn’t any old rainy day. There was a storm brewing.

Halfway home, after stopping by the store to grab a few things for dinner, I slowed at a barricade blocking off the street. Rain pounded my windshield. The squeak of my wiper blades competed with the radio.

I frowned because this way was never closed. It was a larger street that didn’t host any street fairs or races—not that it would be a likely day for such a thing.

I glanced in my rearview mirror, seeing that I’d missed a standing sign that probably read “Detour.”

At least they had signs. I’d never strayed from this route, and I’d learned it from MapQuest (flip phones didn’t have GPS). I didn’t trust my ability to figure out a workaround without guidance. Streets around these parts were windy affairs that messed with my nearly nonexistent directional sense.

A car slowed at the detour sign and turned. Another followed behind.

At least I’d have someone to follow.

As I straightened in my seat and grabbed the gear shift, my gaze caught the barricade again. The image wavered, just for a moment. I turned the wipers on a little faster, trying to see through the driving rain.

My heart quickened.

It wasn’t a barrier at all. It was a tightly woven band of multiple colors, patterns, and textures.

It was magic.

Chapter Nine

Adrenaline coursed through me. Without thinking, because that was clearly my jam, I threw the car into drive and lurched forward.

The hood of the car sliced through the artfully crafted spell. I stopped on the other side and looked back.

The magic was still there, untarnished by my intrusion.

I turned back to drive on, but it occurred to me that an essential part of training was analysis. If I wanted to learn how to work spells, I needed to know how other people put them together. What went into them. I was being presented with that opportunity right now, which clearly meant I should head outside in a storm. Clearly.

Why did I have to think so much?

I pulled over to the side of the road and grabbed my umbrella. The driving rain beat down hard, splashing the concrete around my shoes. I hurried forward, getting hammered in the shins as I did so. They’d be soaked in no time.

The weave was magnificent, like the design of a master seamstress. The colorful patterns twirled and spun together, exquisite and exciting. I felt the pulse of the spell throbbing in the air before it soaked into my middle, its intent clear.

Keep out. Danger ahead.

I felt goodness within the spell. Light. Good intentions. Whatever was happening, this spell had been crafted by someone with his or her heart in the right place.

I ran back to my car, my shins getting another blast of tumultuous water. A gust of wind layered my side with rain.

What a day to stumble upon magic.

Back in the car, I drove ahead slowly, looking carefully for any sign of additional magic. I felt it before I saw it. Evil intent. A vile undertaking. Something that would cause serious harm. I didn’t see any magic, but I could feel it, clear as day. The spell was in the stages of being cast, I’d bet my life on it. Soon, the colorful jet of destruction would bloom over the street toward its intended victim.

I didn’t think that was imagination talking, though I couldn’t be sure.

I pulled to the side of the street again, watching. If I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me.

I paused.

If magic could make people into zombies, it could also make people invisible.

Adrenaline mixed with fear had me outside of the car in a flash, umbrella and purse in hand. I thought about grabbing a tent pole, too, just in case I needed to javelin someone or something, but a quick glance at the sky made me think better of the idea. Holding a big lightning rod in a storm wasn’t the smartest of moves.

Although my umbrella wasn’t far from…

I scurried toward a leafy bush at the side of the road. A streetlight clicked on over me, showering me in its glow.

Great timing.

I tiptoed farther along and crouched beside another bush, looking out at the quiet street. A small, deserted lot sat off to the right, the green grass stretching to the playground beyond. On the other side was a tire business, its windows dark and bays closed. The burger joint was likewise closed, very peculiar for this time of day on a weekday.

“I just want a name,” someone shouted, and I recognized the voice immediately. Gravelly and low, it was the stranger from earlier in the day. I couldn’t see him, but it sounded like he was on my side of the street.