Joy of Witchcraft (6 page)

Clara said, “She was sending a message, you know.”

Do you think?
My sarcasm reflex was automatic, but she didn’t deserve that reaction. Not when she’d come to check up on me, to make sure I was still standing after banishing our enemy from the premises. So I said, “Most of what she had to say was for David.”

“That’s why I told him to stay downstairs. To sit down and catch his breath and let someone else carry the water for a few minutes.”

I looked at Clara with new respect. She
was
a witch. And David
was
her warder. He’d been required to listen to her command, so long as her life wasn’t directly threatened. Her life, or mine, or Gran’s. And her instructions had been exactly what he needed. That, and a tight bandage around his ribs. I turned to Neko, automatically taking a tall glass of water from his hand. “David needs—”

My familiar interrupted me. “He needs to know you’re grounded. That you’re taking care of yourself.”

Clara lifted a plate of cucumber sandwiches from the table, shoving them toward me as if they were medicine. She directed her words to Neko. “Then you can tell him she is, the entire time you’re taking care of him.” She glanced at me. “What is it? His ribs?” When I nodded, she jutted her chin toward the basement stairs. “Go,” she commanded Neko. “And if he gives you any trouble, tell him we’ll call my mother. He’ll have to take orders from three witches, then.”

Neko gave a mock shudder of terror.

“Please,” I said, resting a hand on his shoulder. I wanted him to know I was serious, but I also wanted to give him incontrovertible proof that I
was
grounded, that I was recovering from my extraordinary expense of astral energy. “Take care of him.”

My familiar straightened with alacrity. “Your wish is my command,” he said with a smart bow, clicking his heels together.

I rolled my eyes. “That’s the last time I’ll ever hear that from you.”

He shrugged, grinning, and headed downstairs. Clara gestured toward one of the overstuffed couches. She waited until I sat before she joined me. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know how much your collection means to you. I can only imagine how difficult it was to see Teresa Alison Sidney carry off one of your treasures.”

“It wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

“I couldn’t see perfectly from where I was standing. But wasn’t that a first edition?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise, never expecting her to pay attention to a book’s credentials. “What?” she asked. “I’ve listened to you over the past few years. I’ve learned a bit. Not as much as a real librarian, but enough to know the value of that book.”

“It
was
a first edition,” I agreed. “But it’s not the best specimen of the title in my collection. I have one signed by the author, a gift presentation to the founding Coven Mother of the Seattle coven.”

“And Teresa Alison Sidney missed it?” She sounded incredulous.

“She never saw it,” I said with satisfaction. “Last month, David and I had some renovations done on the basement. As long as we were investing in the work on the garage and the barn, we hired a couple of specialists for a more challenging…project. We converted David’s basement office into a climate-controlled vault for the most valuable books in the Osgood collection.”

“Why didn’t Teresa Alison Sidney see it? What sort of shields did you put on it?” Clara’s voice ratcheted up in disbelief. She wasn’t the strongest witch in the world, but she was quite capable of sensing magical wards left lying around.

“We didn’t add
magical
protection,” I said. “The house is already as secure as we could make it. The vault is state of the art. Climate-controlled, relative humidity of forty-seven percent, steady temperature of sixty-seven degrees. There are ultra-violet filters on the overhead lights, and high-efficiency air-handling filters. We installed mold- and mildew-resistant metal shelves coated in baked enamel. The whole thing is fire-proof.”

Clara looked impressed. “It sounds like Fort Knox!”

I shrugged. “My witchcraft collection is worth its weight in gold. More, maybe. But right about now, I’m glad we didn’t add any extra spells. Teresa would have detected them for sure. As it was, she never thought to ask if I had anything that wasn’t in plain sight.”

“And if she’d asked…”

“I would have been honor-bound to tell her the truth.” I might not be a member of the Washington Coven, but some rules went deeper than social clubs. Some rules went to the heart of being a witch.

Clara sat back on the couch. “So you still have a copy of
Warders’ Magic
.”

“Along with several other books that are worth a thousand times more. The precious stones on some of those bindings would pay for the vault several times over.”

Clara shook her head. “You played a dangerous game, Jeanette.” She caught herself and shook her head. “Jane.”

I nodded. “But we won this round. And now it’s time to go downstairs and reassure my students that victory was ours.”

Clara stood as I did. “You go,” she said. “I’m heading home.”

“Afraid of seeing David, after you ordered him to submit?” I couldn’t help but smile.

“Not afraid,” she said. “Just being…practical. We should all get some sleep.”

“Where are you staying, anyway?”

“In DC. With Mother and George,” she said, like I should have known she was at Gran’s apartment all along. “I’m sharing your old room with Nuri.” I felt a flicker of pity for my grandmother’s familiar. That flicker swelled into a wave when Clara said, “The pink paint on the wall creates
fascinating
vibrations with my aura. I’m attuned to deeper power wells than I’ve sensed in years.”

My mother and her auras… I was truly grateful for everything Clara had done that night, but I had to admit to a wave of relief when I watched the red eyes of her tail-lights turn onto the county road at the end of our driveway.

Moderation in all things. And moderation in maternal things the most of all. I headed downstairs to deal with edgy students, a smart-aleck familiar, and a warder who still needed to be forced into submitting to urgently needed medical care.

For that matter, we needed to get Zach Spencer to the emergency room. And I’d have another try at getting Cassie to see a doctor. All immediate threats might be safely put away, but my evening was just beginning.

The tall case clock struck midnight as I headed down the stairs. Samhain was over. The new year had begun. And the Jane Madison Academy was officially open for business.

Saturday, I slept until noon, only coming to my senses when David brought me a tray with hot buttered toast, crisp sliced apples, and a giant pot of pear oolong tea. I struggled to sit upright, to reach for my clothes so I could check on my students. I needed to know how they were handling the aftermath of our disastrous working.

David assured me, though, that everyone was fine. He’d conferred with their warders. The witches were resting, restoring the health of their bodies, preparing their minds for Monday’s classes.

“What about Cassie?” I asked. “Did she go to Pine Ridge?”

“She went with Zach to have his arm set. Tony drove them.”

“Did she see a doctor?”

He shook his head tightly. “She refused. But she was calm enough to make up a story. She told the doctors she was knocked down by a goat in the barn. She said Zach came to help her, but the billy turned on him.”

There were enough farms in the countryside that her story
might
have been true. And Cassie
had
escaped without any physical damage, beyond a few scrapes and bruises.

David said, “Zach helped her to sleep when they got back.”

Warder’s magic. It was better than nothing. Better than a lot of things, actually.

“I don’t get it,” I said. “Why would Pitt send a satyr to interrupt our first working? It’s not like he gets any benefit if the magicarium shuts down. He’s not a witch. He can’t stake a claim to the Osgood collection.”

David’s jaw was tight. “He doesn’t care about the Osgood collection. He’s trying to punish me.”

“You?”

“I’m the one who’s made his life difficult. I reported him to the Court. I caused the inquest to convene. I’ve cut off the flow of his income and his power—no witch would be stupid enough to bribe him now that Hecate’s Court is involved.”

“But isn’t that a little indirect, bringing a satyr into my working to get at you?”

David’s gaze was steady as he reached over to brush a lock of hair behind my ear. “He knows what matters most to me. Hurting you is the worst thing he could ever do to me.”

The admission melted something deep inside me. I turned my head and kissed David’s palm. “How
are
you doing?” I asked. “How are your ribs?”

“Broken,” he confessed. “But Neko taped them up.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the basement. I’m getting my aventurine. You need the healing power of a crystal.”

“I
need
you to get some rest.” David looked exasperated.

“Fine. We’ll compromise. I’ll stay up here, but I’ll have Neko bring me the crystal.”

“I don’t need—”

But it was too late. I’d already summoned my familiar.

Neko stuck around to help me energize the healing stone, to focus the power that I poured into the green crystal. The spell was enough to send me back to sleep for the rest of the afternoon.

~~~

On Sunday, I had to roll out of bed a lot earlier. It was time for my monthly brunch with Gran and Clara.

My grandmother had instituted Mother-Daughter Brunch when Clara first came back into my life. It was Gran’s blatant attempt to make me like my mother. I think she thought I’d come to associate great food with positive family emotions. Clara still assaulted my nerves like lemon juice on a paper cut, but I’d consumed an awful lot of comfort-food calories with her. Today’s target was the Original Pancake House.

Our accommodating waitress set plates in front of Clara and me. “Dutch Apple Baby,” she said. “We split it back in the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” I said automatically, leaning over to breathe in the sweet scent of cinnamon and Granny Smiths, all baked into the top of a fluffy pancake. I couldn’t imagine making it through even half of what was on my plate; I was pleased Clara had agreed to split the awesome indulgence.

“And the Works for you,” the waitress said, beginning to offload plates in front of Gran. One dish held a mountain of scrambled eggs crowned by the cheddar cheese Gran had added to the order. A continent of hash browns balanced out the platter, plump shreds of potato glistening beneath a crispy brown crust. A smaller plate held three of the meatiest strips of bacon I’d ever seen, centered between a trio of sausages and three patties that fragrantly broadcast their sage and fennel spices. Gran had debated between the breakfast meats for long enough that she’d decided to get all three.

And then, there were the pancakes that the restaurant was known for. A tower of five plate-sized rounds groaned beneath a scoop of melting butter. Powdered sugar and an entire gallon of fresh strawberries—deep red despite the November date—rounded out the dish.

“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked.

“Some blueberry syrup please,” Gran said. And she held up the pitcher of maple that already rested on the table. “And we’ll need more of this, dear.”

The waitress was too well-trained to react, but I’m sure she wondered if Gran was putting her on. I hastened to add, “And some more hot water for my tea, when you get a chance.”

The woman shook her head as she hurried back to the kitchen. Gran devoted her energy to constructing a perfect bite, balancing egg and potato with a chunk of sausage. Clara and I had a much easier time, digging in to the sweet confection we were pleased to call brunch.

Gran then demanded that Clara and I fill her in on the entire Samhain working. She fussed over me, and she fretted about the state of David’s ribs. She exclaimed about how well the aventurine crystal had worked for her, when I’d charged the stone to help heal her lungs from double pneumonia. She clicked her tongue about Cassie, nodding knowingly when I said Zach had urged her into a healing sleep.

“Enough!” Clara said after swallowing a cinnamon-laced forkful of pancake. “We
have
to talk about something else.” She rounded on me. “Have you settled on a wedding date yet?”

“Mabon,” I said. “The autumn equinox next year.”

“So long!” Gran almost covered her surprise by spearing a monster strawberry.

“The magicarium will be well-settled by then. This year’s students will be wrapping up their studies, and we won’t be dealing with new ones yet. And the equinox coincides with a full moon. David and I are facing enough criticism from Hecate’s Court. The least we can do is choose an auspicious day to make our wedding official.”

Clara nodded contentedly. “I’m so pleased you’re considering the astrological implications. I’ll draw up a complete chart for you. You want to pay particular attention to your rising sign and the position of Venus.”

As a witch, I was fully aware of the natural world around me—the phases of the moon, the passing of the seasons. But Clara went a whole lot further into astrology than I did. She charted just about everything, and the vast amount of her star-reading added up to gibberish in my book. Tension screwed its hooks into my shoulders. A dozen different arguments fought to come front and center on my tongue. I wanted Clara to know that she made me embarrassed to be a witch, embarrassed to be her daughter.

But then I remembered David’s suggestion. I heard his calm voice at the back of my mind, and I mimicked the words he’d given me, just two nights before. I looked at Clara and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

My mother beamed, and I silently saluted David for his detente formula.

In fact, David and I were thinking of Mabon for another reason, one I wouldn’t share with Clara and Gran. The equinox meant that day and night were exactly the same length. David and I needed that equality in our relationship, in our lives. If forced to make an honest admission, he would certainly say I was the most headstrong witch he’d ever known, and I’d counter that he was an overbearing warder. For the rest of our lives together, we’d be able to remember at least one time when we’d been in perfect, harmonious balance.