Looking for Mr. Good Witch (2 page)

Heat of Fire,

Burn away

All the trace of yesterday.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“Fire is the element of change, will and passion. All forms of magic involve fire.” Elsie Langston used her ritual sword to draw a circle around the fire that burned brightly in the cave under our shop, Smuggler's Arcane. The fire followed the circle and made the area brighter.

“I am a fire witch. My direction is south. My color is red. My time is midday. My tool is the sword.” Elsie's faded red curls bobbed up and down on her head as she spoke with conviction. She'd been an active witch for sixty years. Her bright green eyes were powerful with all she had seen and done over a lifetime.

“Fire is the realm of sexuality and passion, the spark of divinity which is in all living things.” She laughed. “In other words, I'm one
hot
mama!”

Everyone in the cave laughed.

We were attempting to teach our new witch, Dorothy Lane.
It was a slow, painful process. We had been at it for months, but it wasn't getting any easier. Elsie, Olivia and I had learned our magic at our mothers' and grandmothers' feet. Explaining it to someone was more difficult than we'd imagined.

Dorothy had been adopted into a family without magic that had no idea who or what she was. Olivia was actually her mother, but they hadn't been reunited until after Olivia's death.

It was complicated.

Olivia's ghost had clung to a half life to spend time with her daughter. She wasn't a practicing witch anymore, but she still possessed important knowledge of the craft.

“I am Olivia Dunst, and I am an air witch.” Her voice wasn't as solid as Elsie's, but it was still strong with purpose. “Dorothy, honey, would you mind drawing the circle in the sand with my rune staff? It's a little hard for me to hold a solid object for so long.”

“Oh sure, Mom.” Dorothy popped to her feet from one of the carved and weathered chairs around the circle. She wore her straight brown hair in a short pageboy style that swung into her face as she moved. She drew a circle in the sand with Olivia's rune staff.

“Thank you, honey.” Olivia's face wasn't as solid as it had been before she was killed either. She was still pretty, and her carefully coiffed hair was still blond. She was elegantly clad in the outfit we'd chosen for her to be buried in even though we'd known by then that she was a ghost. “My direction is east. My color is yellow, and my time is dawn. Obviously my wonderful staff is my tool.”

The runes collected on the staff through the years began to glow in Dorothy's hand. The magic with Olivia's staff was only possible because of their blood tie. Elsie or I couldn't have done it.

“Air is the element of the intellect, the most powerful tool for change. It is psychic, and essential to all spells and
rituals.” Olivia's voice grew stronger as she concentrated on her words. The runes on the staff continued to glow, but there was no actual air magic from her words or actions.

“
Most
powerful?” Elsie joked. “I don't think so. Right now I'd say not too powerful at all.”

“Elsie!” I hissed. “I shouldn't have to tell you that this is a solemn ceremony of declaration.”

“Sorry, Molly.” Elsie put her hand over her mouth. “When did you get to be such a poop?”

Everyone laughed at that too, of course.

“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I was wrong about it being a solemn declaration, Dorothy.”

“Oh.” Dorothy batted her lashes quickly. It was her habit when she was confused or nervous. “Does that mean it's a party or something?”

“No.” Elsie heaved a deep sigh. “Molly's right. It's a solemn declaration of ourselves and our magic. I'm sorry. Is anyone else hungry?”

“It's probably the boredom,” Brian Fuller said. “We could speed this up some. I'm not sure how solemn it's supposed to be, but it could be faster.”

“That's because you're not trained to be a witch,” Olivia told him. “You've gone a long time on natural ability—and, of course, your
wonderful
good looks.” Her opaque form fluttered. “What was I saying?”

“Let me hold the rune staff.” Brian took it from Dorothy.

He wasn't a blood relative of Olivia's, but he was a powerful air witch, more powerful than Olivia had ever been. Brian wasn't a member of our coven. We were hoping he would be at some point, but he hadn't declared himself. He was a virile young witch with a headful of unruly brown hair and seductive blue eyes. My mother would have said he was trouble with a capital T.

“I am an air witch!” he declared loudly toward the ceiling
of the large cave. “I am Brian Fuller, son of Schadt and Yuriza Fuller, grandson of Esmeralda and Abdon Fuller. My time is dawn. My direction is east. My magic is powerful.”

As his words echoed through the cave, a windstorm grew and beat at the walls and swelled the air. It rose like a hurricane around us, swirling rocks and sand.

“Cool!” Dorothy yelled from the middle of the storm. “How'd you do that?”

“You have to suck it up from inside you and let it go,” Brian told her. “If I were using my wand instead of Olivia's staff, it would be even better.”

Brian was also a little bit of a show-off.

Olivia's ghostly form was blown around by the elemental forces he had called. She banged back and forth against the walls like a sock puppet. “Brian, could you turn this off now, please? I feel a little dizzy.”

“This is all well and good,” I said to Brian. “But you aren't in control of the air you've summoned.”

Brian shrugged. “Sure, I am. I can stop it anytime.”

“Please do so.” Olivia's voice sounded as though it were in a tunnel. “I don't like to think what my hair is going to look like.”

“It looks just like it always does,” Elsie shouted above the wind. “It's not like you need a brush once you're dead.”

“Yes, get it under control,” I added to Olivia's pleas.

“No problem.” Brian tapped the staff on the ground. Nothing happened.

He grinned at Dorothy. “It's because I'm using someone else's magic tool.” He took his wand out of the pocket of his brown cargo shorts but still held Olivia's staff. “I command the spirits of the air to cease.”

“I think it's worse.” Dorothy put her arms protectively over her head.

“You have the same problem we do.” Elsie held tightly to her chair as the wind buffeted it. “Except you have too
much power and not enough training. We have a lot of training but we're short on the power.”

“Oh, right, Elsie,” Olivia called out. “Exactly the same but
completely
different.”

Brian put down Olivia's staff and addressed the problem with his wand. “I am an air witch, and I demand this to end. Stop!”

The hurricane whistled through the cave. It was beginning to dislodge rocks from the ceiling, and they fell at our feet.

He looked at me. “Molly? Any ideas?”

I considered the problem. “Perhaps if you try your wand
and
the rune stick again. Olivia, I know you have no real magic, but it's your staff. Could you come down and help him?”

Olivia was trying hard to keep her form together. “I'll do my best. It's not easy being a dead witch. I haven't mastered my ghostly powers to replace my magic yet.”

She managed to drop from the ceiling, where the storm had whipped her, and alighted at Brian's side to grasp her staff with him.

“Now, concentrate, both of you,” Elsie suggested. “My hair is literally blowing off my head.”

Olivia and Brian worked together, but the storm only barely subsided. I beckoned to Elsie and Dorothy, and we all put our hands on the staff to add our magic. Though all our magic was not of the air, still the turmoil slowed and finally stopped.

We all stared at one another with our hair standing at odd angles on our heads (except for Olivia) and then started laughing.

“Okay.” Brian made a swipe at his hair with one hand. “That's what I'm talking about. I'm not bored or mostly asleep now. Are you, Dorothy?”

“No.” She pulled her pretty blue top back on her shoulders and pushed at her short hair. “But maybe there's something to be said for training
and
control.”

“Don't let them kid you,” he said. “Magic is all about fun and excitement. If you don't have fun with it, you get old and cranky—like my grandfather.”

We all knew that Brian's grandfather, Abdon, was more than cranky. He was an obnoxious egomaniac. He was a member of the Grand Council of Witches. Their rules made most witches cringe.

“I guess we're through with fire and air,” Elsie said. “Molly, would you declare for water?”

I nodded and grasped my mother's amulet, which hung around my neck. “Water is the feminine element of the subconscious mind. It is wisdom, strength and growth. It is the heart of life.” I closed my eyes. “I am Molly Addison Renard. I am a water witch who lives between the river and the sea. My direction is west. My color is blue, and my time is twilight. My tool is the cauldron. Let the water flow from every direction and heal the earth.”

There was complete silence around me as I finished my declaration. My feet were wet, but I hadn't noticed until I'd finished.

Opening my eyes was a surprise. The Cape Fear River, which is normally at the mouth of our cave, had begun to flow inside. Not only was I standing in gray-green water to my ankles—so was everyone else.

The cave had been here in the old port city of Wilmington, North Carolina, since the time of smugglers. I wasn't sure if it had come this far over its banks in a hundred years or more. It had never happened in the last twenty years that we'd had held ceremonies here.

“Molly, what in the world is going on?” Olivia was the only one with dry feet. “And where is the cauldron necklace you should be using as your tool? Did you take it off?”

“Let me take care of this problem first.” I closed my eyes and held the amulet, seeing in my mind's eye the water flowing back where it belonged.

“That was almost as good as my hurricane.” Brian applauded. “Dorothy, what do you have in mind—an earthquake?”

Elsie came to my side with curiosity and confusion in her green eyes. “Molly? I've known you all your life. When did you get the magic to do something like that? Where did you get it? You didn't even have that kind of power when we were young.”

I opened my eyes. The water was gone, leaving a few fish and some marks on the sand where it had been. We quickly put the gasping fish into a bucket of river water that we kept in the cave for ceremonial purposes. “I'm sorry. I stopped wearing the cauldron because I didn't need it. There's magic stored in this amulet that relates to my family and other water witches.”

Dorothy smiled. “That's a good thing, right? Maybe you won't have to give up being a witch and move to Boca after all. We can all stay here together and look for your missing spell book. I'd like that.”

“Me too.” Elsie hugged her. “And Olivia has a hundred years as a ghost before she has to leave. It sounds like a party to me. I'll have to look through my mother's old things and see if she left me something powerful to reclaim
my
magic.”

“Shall we finish our declarations before Molly gets all out of sorts again?” Olivia asked. “Dorothy, it's your turn.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “I hope I don't do anything catastrophic.”

Dorothy closed her eyes to concentrate. “Earth doesn't represent the physical earth, like you told me. It is the realm of abundance and prosperity. I am Dorothy Lane Dunst, and I am an earth witch. My direction is north. My color is green. My time is midnight. My tool is the stone.” She held up the emerald cull she'd found on the riverbank. “Is that it?”

“Sweet.” Brian focused on Dorothy. “I want a magic gemstone.”

“You have to draw a circle in the sand with your stone,” Olivia told her. “Mind the fish.”

Dorothy dropped to her knees and drew a circle near the fire in the sand. “What should I say?”

“Your stone represents you and your earth magic,” I coached. “You're imbuing your tool with your magic.”

“Okay. Part of my earth magic is in my stone now. My strength and magic come from the earth, but not the dirt.” She looked up and smiled. “How was that?”

“Did you feel anything?” Olivia asked her.

“No. Not really. What am I supposed to feel?”

“No one can tell you that,” Elsie added. “You feel what you feel. But I'm not feeling any magic from it. Try it again with more conviction.”

Dorothy pushed her hair away from her face and puffed out her cheeks. She grasped the emerald cull in one hand and began drawing a circle again in the sand with the other. “My earth magic is now in my stone. My strength and magic come from the earth, but not the dirt.”