The War on Witches (4 page)

Thousands of tiny orbs dropped through the air to form the bodies of the Charmed Ones in an empty alleyway in Hartford, Connecticut. Once again, Phoebe was impressed by the way that Paige's Whitelighter abilities exhibited themselves. The three of them could have popped up in a crowd or the middle of a busy street. One ill-placed orb in front of a bus could end the mission of the Charmed Ones and their lives. Thankfully, Prue's magic tattoo must have also taken that into account, placing them in a destination where they wouldn't freak anyone out or risk certain death.

“Are we here?” Phoebe asked. “Hartford?”

“We'll know in a second.” Paige led them out of the alleyway onto a quaint little street in a mom-and-pop type of shopping district. All the signs were hand painted and the windows showed a wide range of items, from hardware to boutique-style clothing. “The vision I saw when I touched Prue's tattoo showed some kind of computer repair shop with a cutesy name.”

“Tech Bytes?” Piper pointed to a sign a couple of doors down from the alley. Beneath the name, there was a crudely rendered painting of a laptop that looked like it was chomping on a row of numbers that were likely the address.

“That would be the place.” Paige continued in the lead, moving down the street. She tried the door. A closed sign hung at an angle, even though the hours painted on the glass clearly indicated the shop should have been open. “It's locked.”

Piper peered in the window. “Looks empty.”

Phoebe checked up and down the street. It was clear like the alley had been. Not a lot of people around, which wasn't promising for a shopping district in the middle of the day. “Street's empty too,” she said, pointedly.

Paige grabbed her sister's hands and they were inside the shop in the blink of an eye. The store was empty, as it had appeared from the outside. The only sign of the fight that Prue had mentioned was some scattered papers on the floor. Otherwise, it would have just seemed like it was closed for business, if not for the voice whispering from behind the counter: “Come on, come on, come on. Pick up, pick up,
pick up.
”

Phoebe looked to her sisters. She recognized that whisper of fear they'd encountered so many times before. They were too late to protect their Innocent, but at least she was still alive. Phoebe called out, “Hello?”

The voice went silent.

Phoebe approached the counter slowly, careful not to spook the Innocent they'd been sent to help. She was probably already terrified by whatever had befallen her. “It's okay. We're not going to hurt you.”

A girl with dark, spiked hair and multiple piercings rose tentatively from behind the counter. Her clothes were torn, but Phoebe couldn't be sure if it was the result of the attack or a fashion choice. The girl had a cell phone to her ear and a panicked expression in her eyes. She was trying hard to keep it together. “We're closed,” she said. “That door was locked. I know it was. I just locked it.”

“No, it wasn't,” Paige said. The Charmed Ones had gotten through so many locked doors over the years that they had long since tired of making up excuses to explain their sudden appearance. It was easier to just pretend the door was open. It's not like most of the people they were coming to rescue were in a state to argue the point.

“I'm sorry, but I've got to ask you to leave,” the girl said. “We've had a . . . I don't know what. I'm on the phone with the police right now. Well, I'm
on hold
with the police right now. I should have told them I was attacked with anthrax instead of fairy dust. But, you know, it sparkled. Anthrax doesn't sparkle. At least, I don't think that it does. It's not like I have a lot of experience with this kind of thing. Does it? Sparkle, I mean. Anthrax?”

Babbling was another reaction the Charmed Ones had grown accustomed to after years in this line of work. It never got any easier hearing the terror in people's voices.

Phoebe pulled a stool behind the counter and sat the girl down, noticing the name tag on her shirt in the process. “It's okay, Nat. The door is locked now. You're perfectly safe.”

Piper gently took the phone from the girl and disconnected the call. “The police won't be able to do anything about this. Even if they do believe you. Which they won't.”

“Besides, it probably wasn't fairy dust,” Paige said. “Unless you were attacked by a person about six inches tall with wings.”

The girl looked confused, which was actually a good sign. “No. No wings. It was just a regular guy.”

“At least, he
looked
like a regular guy, you mean?” Paige asked.

“What do you mean? He was a guy. What else could he be?”

Paige chuckled, trying to bring some levity to the tension in the room. “That depends. He could have been a demon, warlock, sorcerer, seer. . . .”

Phoebe caught the girl eyeing her phone. Probably wanting to call the police again. “Okay, Paige. Don't think you're helping.”

“Sorry.”

“Who
are
you people?”

“Witches,” Piper said, carefully. “Like you.”

“I'm not a witch,” Nat quickly replied.

The Charmed Ones didn't even bother to share a knowing glance. Most of the people they met with special abilities hid them from the world. This wasn't the first person to flat-out deny what they were saying.

Phoebe took her hand. “Tell us what happened.”

Nat provided a quick rundown of her story between halting comments and questioning whether or not it was real or she'd imagined it. Her attacker did sound like some random guy. He had no horns, no fiery breath. But the Charmed Ones had also learned that even the most handsome man could be a monster inside, literally.

Phoebe and her sisters held their questions until the end with the unspoken agreement to let the girl tell her tale the way she needed to get it out. They wanted to get all the information they could get before they focused on the important stuff.

“This book,” Paige said gently, beginning the interrogation. “Did it have a name on the cover? Anything to identify it?”

“Not that I saw,” she replied. “But he called it a Book of Light. Said it was the opposite of a Book of Shadows. You . . . know what a Book of Shadows is?”

“We're familiar with the concept,” Paige replied.

“The spell he chanted,” Piper said. “You're sure you didn't recognize the language?”

“Positive. I've never been outside of Hartford, but my parents and grandparents speak a bunch of different East Asian languages. I'm also majoring in film studies with an emphasis on foreign cinema. I like to joke that I've got an ear for tongues. This was nothing I'd ever heard before.”

“Did you feel anything when he used the herbs on you?” Paige asked. “Pain? Dizziness?”

“You mean before I blacked out?” she clarified.

Piper nodded.

“Just felt like I had to sneeze,” she replied. “Some of the fairy dust went up my nose. It smelled like oregano, actually. I could go for a pizza now.”

Phoebe was glad that Nat was managing to remain lighthearted. And that she had an appetite. It made the questioning easier on all of them. “Have you tried any magic since the guy left?”

Nat stiffened. “I don't know what you're talking about.” She sounded far from convincing. She had no problem talking about books or magic and fairy dust, but when it came to admitting the truth she still stuck to the lie. Years of hiding her abilities from the world and she still wouldn't give up the denial.

Phoebe squeezed the girl's hand reassuringly. She had not let go since Nat started her story. “This will be a lot easier if you trust us. I know we're strangers and you've had a difficult day, but—”

“Let's save some time.” Paige held her hand out. “Tablet!” Across the room a tablet computer started to glow a bright blue and white before breaking into tiny orbs that rose into the air and disappeared. The tablet reappeared a half a breath later, materializing in Paige's hand. “See? Witches. Like you.”

Nat's eyes went wide. “Wow. I've never seen a teleportation spell like that. What do you call it?”

“Sometimes I call it more trouble than it's worth,” Paige replied. “I'm part Whitelight—know what? It's not important. Let's focus on you for the moment. What's your active power?”

“I . . . I can sense trouble,” she replied, having given up all pretense of denying who she was.

“You see the future?” Phoebe asked.

“No,” she replied. “It's more of a spidey-sense kind of thing. Not particularly useful as powers go, but it's saved me from trouble on occasion. It works better when there's supernatural danger around, which is why this guy was so confusing. I didn't get any kind of magical vibe from him, but he clearly used magic.”

“So it's not just a warning power?” Piper clarified. “You're sensitive to magic all around?”

“Usually,” Nat said. “But I'm not feeling anything now. I thought it was because you weren't a threat, but usually I can feel something. Would you say you're powerful witches?”

“Some people might,” Paige replied.

Phoebe didn't like where this was going. If Nat couldn't feel the magic of the three most powerful witches the world had ever known, there wasn't much chance she was going to feel anything else. “What about spells?” Phoebe asked. “Do you know any basic magic?”

“Just a little party trick,” Nat replied, the concern reappearing on her face. “Nothing special.”

“Try it,” Piper said.

“None of you have a quarter, do you?” she asked. “Any coin will do, but it works best with a quarter.”

Paige reached into her pocket, pulled out a quarter, and handed it over. “I swear, if you pull this out of my ear or any other part of my body . . .”

“Not that kind of party trick.” Nat seemed even more nervous as she stood the quarter on its edge on the counter. She held the coin down with a finger and gave it a flick. The quarter spun as she pulled her finger away. She leaned down so that she was at eye level with the spinning coin and whispered a spell. “Copper and nickel together make silver. But as it spins it changes color.”

“Good to know there's someone less skilled at spell writing than we are,” Paige mumbled softly. Phoebe elbowed her sister, gently, though she didn't disagree.

Four sets of eyes watched as the spinning coin danced across the counter, spinning slower and slower until it fell flat on its side. It was the exact same color it had been when Paige handed it over.

“That's . . . not right,” Nat said. “It was supposed to keep spinning, changing colors the whole time. It makes a kind of colorful light show.”

“This is what I was afraid of,” Piper said. “Our other sister mentioned some sort of imbalance in the magic. I think he used a power-stripping potion on you.”

“I don't know of any power-stripping herb mixtures,” Paige said. “Certainly nothing that can be applied topically. The potions I know about need to be drank . . . drunk. Which is it?”

“And to think, she works in education.” Phoebe tried to lighten the mood. It didn't help.

“He took my powers?” Nat asked, panic rising. “You mean I'm not a witch anymore? I can't do magic? At all?”

“Technically, you can still tap into the natural magic all around us,” Phoebe said. “Anyone can if they use the right combination of ingredients. But, no, you don't have inherent magic at the moment. I'm sorry.”

“At the moment?” Nat asked. “So this can be reversed. I can get my magic back?”

The sisters looked at each other. The truth was they didn't know. It was possible her powers were bound, not stripped. It could be a temporary spell or something that lasted her lifetime and beyond. They didn't have enough information to answer.

Phoebe was the first to find her voice. “It's hard to say. We need to know more about what he used on you. If only—” Phoebe stopped when she saw Paige suddenly drop to the ground.

“What are you doing?” Piper asked.

“Playing witch-scene investigator,” Paige replied. “Maybe there's some remnants of the herbs on the floor.”

“I wouldn't do that,” Nat said. “The owner's not big on carpet cleaning. Or vacuuming. Honestly, I don't know why anyone brings their computers to us. This is not exactly a sterile environment.”

“Noted. Also, ewww.” Paige started to get up, but stopped short. “What's this?”

“What's what?” Phoebe asked.

Paige frog walked a few steps, careful not to touch the dirty floor any more than she had to. She pulled a small, rectangular card from beneath the counter. “Looks like a business card. ‘Jacob Perly. Media Consultant.' Media consultant? That's a new one. No business address, but there is an e-mail address.”

Piper took the card. “Anyone could have dropped this. She did say the owner never cleans. It's not like most evildoers we encounter leave behind calling cards.”

Phoebe took the card. “But it's nice when they do.”

“The guy's messenger bag spilled on the floor,” Nat said. “I figured he cleaned it up while I was unconscious. Maybe he missed something.”

“Perly,” Phoebe read aloud. “This name is familiar.”

“Ex-boyfriend?” Paige asked.

“Funny,” Phoebe replied. “But
no.
It's something else. Something . . . I'm not sure.”

Paige took the card back from her sister. “I'll get Henry working on it.”

“What do you think he was?” Nat asked. “Warlock? Demon?”

“Too early to tell,” Paige replied. “First guess would be warlock because they're all about taking witches' powers, but I don't know why he'd need a book. Beyond that, there are too many options, really. Could be anything. We've got a lot of resources at our disposal. We should be able to tell you more soon.”