Capture (9 page)

Even more reason to keep my head down
, avoid being recognized by anyone, and get in and out as fast as I could before this turned into a full scale street fight.

I eased around the
arguing protestors, gradually getting closer and closer to the shop’s front. Finally I was able to grab the door’s handle.

One of the protestors, a big bear of a guy, grabbed my shoulder.
“Hey, you’re not going in there, are you?”

“Got to,” I shouted back over the noise.  “I need a book for school, and they’re the only ones who’ve got it.”

I pulled free of his grip, reached the entrance door, and managed to open it just enough to squeeze inside.

As soon as the wooden door shut behind me, all hint of the crowd outside cut off.  The
peace and silence within was almost shocking in its contrast.  After only a minute, I could feel the knots releasing in my shoulders.

I could feel something else, too.  The tiny hairs at the back of my neck and arms stood up.  It was like sensing a storm coming in the distance,
with that promise of energy and power.

This place didn’t just hold books on
magic.  Someone was actually
doing
magic here.

I walked up and down the aisles, trying to figure out how everything was organized.  By subject, apparently, since it obviously wasn't by author.

I checked every bookcase, every single shelf from top to bottom and end to end.

Nothing about
magic.

But there had to be something.  Anything.  Even a beginner book on magic for kids.

I went down the stacks again, slower this time, even looking behind the books in case the magic ones were hidden.

Nothing.

"Can I help you find something?"  The woman's voice was warm, the tiniest bit raspy, and with a hint of some foreign accent I didn't recognize.  She had kind eyes.  They reminded me of my mother for some reason.

Was she a
Clann member?  She wore a loose, flowery dress made out of something that flowed light as smoke every time she moved.  No black clothing.  No spiked jewelry.  No makeup at all, much less the heavy black rings around the eyes like Tarah's friends preferred.

Then again, Tarah didn't look like a
Clann member either.

Maybe I should just thank her and get the heck out of there.

And then what would I do?  Keep holding the magic inside and pray it wouldn't leak out of control anymore?

Sure
, because
that
had been working so well.

I straightened up, took a deep breath, and joined her at the front counter.  "I feel something…special here.  And I need help with something like that."

She froze and glanced down at the goose bumps on my forearms below where I'd pushed up my sleeves. After a long pause, she nodded.  "I think I have what you need.  Come with me."

I followed her past the counter and down a short hall towards an open doorway.  She entered the room then turned to watch me.

At the threshold, energy crackled over my skin.  If static electricity could form a wall, this was how it would feel.  I leaned into the wall and it gave way.

Some sort of magical safeguard?  But for what?  The room was plain, with floor to ceiling, unfinished pine shelves on all four walls.  No pentagrams, runes or otherwise witchy-looking symbols anywhere.  Even the stuff on the shelves looked like boring textbooks and office supplies.

And yet…the room seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat.

"You are looking for a book to help you learn how to control your magic?" she asked, almost snappy in her business-like attitude now.

I started to answer her, then hesitated.  What if this was a trap?  She seemed all right, but what if the government was using her to get to others with magical abilities?

She watched me, a knowing look in her eyes.

Then again, maybe she was wondering the same thing about me.  I could just as easily be an undercover agent sent to entrap her.

“How do we know we can trust each other?” I asked.

She shrugged.  “I know I can trust you.  The front door has a spell on it that will not let anyone through with evil intentions against me.”

But that only answered half my question.  “And how do I…”

“The same way you decide to trust anyone else in life.  Either you do, or you don’t.”

Or you can learn to trust your own instincts
, her voice suddenly whispered inside my head, making me jump.  She smiled.

Okay, that was more than a little creepy.

But she was also right.  Either I trusted her or I didn’t.  If I didn’t, I’d have to try to find help somewhere else.

“Okay, I
guess I'll have to trust you.  Now what have you got that can help me get rid of this curse?”

She frowned.  “Magic is a gift, not a curse.
Surely your parents explained this to you.”

"My parents didn't tell me anything. I'm having to figure this all out on my own as I go.
”

Her
eyes flared wide for a second then narrowed. “That must make you an outcast then. I am not supposed to help you."

"I'm not an outcast. I'm not anything. I just have these...things that happen sometimes that I don't know how to control. Please. I don't want to become like those Phillips brothers." The words blurted out of me unplanned, but too true to take back. "I just need a way to fix whatever's wrong with me."

She stared at me. Finally she sighed.  “There is nothing wrong with you, only different."

"I watched that Simon Phillips interview. Is it true that the magic's like a muscle that will atrophy if you don't use it?"

She nodded.

"Then why does mine seem to be getting stronger not weaker? I swear I try not to do anything, but..."

"Because right now you are still in the early years of gaining your abilities. And during those years the energy inside you is too strong still. You must first learn how to ground off all that excess energy. It is like asking a muscle in your leg to relax and get smaller while you hit it with electricity from a taser. Get rid of the energy first, then the muscle can relax enough to do as asked."

“Okay, fine. How do I
do this...grounding stuff?”

She walked over to scan a row of books.  "You are…in high school?"

"Yeah.  A senior."

She selected one of the books and closed her eyes.  Holding the book with both hands, she took a deep breath, and that electric sensation brushed over my arms and the back of my neck again.  Then she sighed, opened her eyes, looked at the book's cover, and smiled.

"It is ready for you now."

"Ready for me?"

She turned it so I could see the cover. 
World History: An Open View
.  It looked like a regular, modern day history textbook.  "A disguise spell."

A disguise.  I looked around the room in sudden curiosity.  "So everything in here—"

"Is disguised as well, yes."

I spotted a jar of pencils and pointed at them.  "Even those?"

"Wands.  In disguise."

I took a step in that direction.

"Oh no, not for you.  They are strictly for twelve and thirteen-year-olds in need of help to direct their intentions.  You're far too old. You would look like a grown man riding a bicycle with training wheels still attached."

An unexpected sense of disappointment shot through me.  A wand would be pretty cool to wave around, especially one that was disguised.

Would I have gotten a wand as a kid if I'd grown up in a Clann family?

My gaze landed on a stack of printer paper on the shelf nearest the door.  "And that?  Is that like magical spell paper that you write out invisible spells on or something?"

She glanced at the paper then headed for the doorway.  "No, that's printer paper."

I followed her out to the check out counter.  "So how do I read this book?"

"Watch and see.  But first, forty dollars please."

I gave her cash.  No way was I dumb enough to use a credit card for this.  As she accepted the money, I hesitated. If this was a setup, right about now was when the authorities would come busting in to arrest me. 

But no one came into the store.

I let go of the two twenty dollar bills.  As she put it in the cash register, her mouth twitched, as if she were trying not to laugh. 

"The disguise spell only works once the book changes ownership," she explained as she reached for a plain white plastic bag from under the counter.   Then she handed me the book.  More static electricity arced up my arms.  "The book only reveals its true self to its owner at first."

I glanced down at it and froze.  "I…see what you mean."  What had once been a brightly colored, modern looking school book was now covered in aged
red leather with glowing gold lettering. Inside, the seemingly new pages had turned yellow with age as well and were now filled with hand written and drawn text and sketches.

"Even if you read it in public, no one else will see its true nature until you choose for them to
by saying 'revelattio,'" she said. “Say it again and it hides itself once more.”

"That's a good idea."

At that, she flashed the brightest smile yet.  "Thank you.  I thought so too.  Much better than the size changing spell others use."

At my confused look, she explained, "An old fashioned idea, so
witches on the run could swallow all their books like pills before fleeing."

And then what, barf them back up later?

Disgusting.

I looked around again, wondering.

She laughed.  "Don't worry, that's a new copy."

I smiled, but it was short lived.  I'd lucked out big time today in finding this place.  But what if I needed more help, more books and supplies eventually?  Would this store even still be here?  Would she?

"You know people are protesting outside your shop, right?”

“Yes.  They are misguided souls, listening to the fear and negativity within them.  They do
n’t know how to be positive and follow their bliss.”

I
wasn’t so sure.  Both sides looked pretty happy to be getting in each others’ faces out there.  “You should be careful when you leave.  Do you have a back exit you can use?  Maybe some friends who can help protect you?  You should call the cops too. They look like they’re about to start fighting.”  I hesitated.  “If you want to close up early, I could walk you to your car.”

Her smile grew.  “They will not harm me.  But thank you for your offer.  You have a kind soul.”

Still I couldn’t leave.  Didn’t she understand how dangerous the situation was?   “Have you seen those people?  They look crazy.  Are you sure you’ll be alright here?”

“Hayden, I will be fine.  It is only you who should be concerned.  You are untrained and very vulnerable to external influences, and your thoughts are allowing them to participate in your life right now.  You must learn to focus
your will on only what you want.”

I scowled at that.  I might not be out of high school yet, but I wasn’t some little kid.  I could handle myself out there.  “Well, thanks for the book.  And
, uh…good luck.”

“And the same to you.”

I could only push the front door open a few inches and had to turn sideways to get out of the shop.  The bright sunlight was a shock to my eyes as they tried to adjust after being in the dim and cozy shop’s lighting.  When I could see again, I thought I was hallucinating.  The protestors had gotten hold of several books from a sidewalk sale rack outside the shop and dumped it over to create a pile in the middle of the street.  It was a bunch of Harry Potter books, from what I could make out over the heads of the crowd.  As I stared in disbelief, someone tossed a plastic lighter at the pile and set it on fire.

Holy hell, they were burning books in the street now
!  Where were the police, the crowd control teams?  This was getting way out of hand.

“Hey, boy, whatcha got there?”  Someone grabbed the book I’d just bought.

“Hey!  That’s mine!” I yelled, reaching for it, but people shoved in between us and I couldn’t get around them. 

The man opened the book, flipped through the pages.  “Aw, it’s just some dumb school book,” he yelled to the crowd then tossed it down on the ground dangerously close to the fire.

I ducked down, risking being stomped to death by countless feet as I retrieved the spellbook.  As I straightened up, a knee caught my eyebrow and I saw stars.  I stumbled, half bent over, trying to find my balance and keep a grip on the spellbook at the same time.

“Hayden, are you okay?” A familiar woman’s voice shouted from somewhere towards my right.

The bookshop owner.  She must have known I was in trouble.  She shouldn’t be out here.  “Go back inside!” I yelled to her.  But it was too late.  She’d already fully exited the shop.