The Witch's Key (2 page)

She laughed at that. “No,” then added, reluctantly,
“you know I can’t, of course.”

“I know. Otherwise, you probably would have done it
by now.”

“Damn straight.”

“Coffee?” said a young woman who nearly scared the
crap out of me after sneaking up on us like a puma.

“Love some,” Lilith answered.

I smiled at the girl and ordered the same. When she
walked away, I leaned across the table and said, “Why didn’t you
tell me she was coming? She nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Few things bring a smile to Lilith’s lips, but the
mere mention of me having a heart attack seemed to fill her with
enough warm thoughts to squint her eyes and dimple her cheeks. I
could tell she wanted to hide it from me, if only it was easy. But
since it was not, she made little effort to do so.

“Tony,” she said, only it came out sounding a little
condescending. “You have the heart of an ox now. A little scare
isn’t going to kill you. Why don’t you learn to ease up some? Here,
look at this.” She spun the laptop around so that I could see the
Web site she pulled up.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s that site I told you about, Witchit dot com.
Look, all the resources a witch could want. Here you can learn
spells, incantations, read up on all the news in Witchland.
Whatever you want.”

“Witchland? Is that a real place?”

“Sure, it’s in Orlando, but you can only get there by
broomstick.”

“You’re kidding!”

Again she laughed, and I have to tell you, I was
beginning to like the old Lilith much better.

“Of course, I’m kidding. But seriously, this is a
cool site. I told you it’s where I learned to make the whisper
box.”

“So you weren’t kidding?”

“Not about that. Now go on. Check it out.” She hiked
her thumb up over her shoulder. “I’m going to the little witches
room. See if you can’t get yourself into a bit of trouble.”

I did not know if she meant that as a warning or a
challenge, but I guessed she knew I would find out either way. She
stood and headed for the restroom, when I called out, “Wait! What
do I do?”

From the way she turned and looked at me, you might
have thought I had barked Shih-Tzu at her. “What do you mean?”

I turned my palms up empty. “I’ve never surfed the
web before.”

“Haven’t you?” She bundled her hands below her chin
and knitted her fingers like a garden spider working her web. Then
she balled the thing up and threw it at me from across the room. I
have to admit, I did not feel a thing, but with Lilith, some of her
spells can be very subtle. I blinked at her a couple of times and
waited for her response. She seemed uncertain at first, but then a
thread of satisfaction stitched her lips tight and she declared her
approval with a nod.

“There,” she said, with authority. “Now you know
how.” And she turned and disappeared into the lady’s room.

I looked down at the computer, admittedly, feeling no
more proficient with it than before. But I did feel more capable,
and I had seen Lilith, Carlos and Spinelli operate one in the past.
I knew that the little square pad below the keyboard controlled the
mouse, and that clicking the mouse was a basic command essential to
its operation. Given that knowledge and coupling it with the spell
that Lilith cast to help me, I set to work. Before I knew it, I was
whipping around that site, negotiating hyperlinks and clicking on
live icons that I didn’t even know were live until they took me to
pages deep within the hollows of Witchit dot com. There, I found
how Lilith learned to make the whisper box. I came upon a recipe
for something called Lover’s Brew and I put it in my favorite
places. I even found a link to a posting of
The Witch’s
Creed
, something that Lilith apparently molds to fit her own
agenda. But hey, I’m not the judgmental type.

Things were going well for a while, until I stumbled
onto a link that brought me to the Chatter Shack, a forum where
witches and warlocks discuss the latest in witchery, perpetuate
rumors and gossip about all things paranormal. That is when I first
realized how extensive and intricate the witch community really
was. These people have an intelligence network rivaling the NSA.
They know what’s going on with some witches that even the witches
themselves don’t know, including Lilith. My mouth was still agape
when Lilith came out of the lady’s room and took her seat across
from me.

“Lilith,” I said, excitedly. “There’s something you
should know.”

A guilty smirk crossed her lips. “Don’t tell me. You
figured out that the spell I cast before I went into the lady’s
room was bogus. I know. I’m sorry, but everyone knows how to surf
the web. I thought if you—”

“No! That’s not it. Wait…. That wasn’t a real
spell?”

“Uh-uh.”

I hate when she does that to me. “Never mind.” I spun
the computer around so that she could see for herself. “Look at
this.” She narrowed her eyes at the screen and began reading. “They
know about me.” I said. “That article, it mentions me by name. It
says that a witch in New Castle recently participated in the rite
of passage and allowed a mortal named Anthony Marcella to join
her.”

She pulled back and peered up over the top of the
computer. “So?”

“What do you mean, so? They know about me!”

“Tony, relax. We’ve broken no laws. I carried you
through the passage and restored your youth. Big deal.”

“What about the Witch’s Creed? Isn’t there something
in there forbidding the inclusion of mortals in ceremonial
rituals?”

“Creed, shmeed,” she said, wrinkling her nose in a
grimace. “It’s so much dogma. Besides, it’s not like it’s a
contract that witches sign or anything. I think of it more as a
suggestion to good witchery than anything.”

That helped me some. I settled back into my chair and
welcomed the returned of our waitress with two puny thimbles of
coffee. As I loaded mine with cream and sugar, Lilith fell back
into reading the online article, probably searching it to see if
she had been mentioned by name, as well. From the look on her face
when she finished, I concluded she hadn’t.

“Well, what do you think?” I asked, setting my coffee
thimble on the table.

I watched her eyes roll up at me, squinting with her
smile, though the computer veiled her face from her nose down. “You
want to know what I think?”

“Yes.”

Her sights shifted to a spot in the café by the front
door, just over my shoulder. “I think this Geek’s nest attracts
more kinds of people than you know.”

I shook my head slightly. “Come again.”

She nodded. “Over there, with the Macintosh. It’s
your buddy, Spinelli.”

“Dominic?”

“You know another?”

“Damn! Is he alone?”

Before she could answer, a little bell over the door
chimed, ringing in a new patron. She waited until the door shut and
the patron sat down before answering, “Not anymore.”

“Double damn! Carlos?”

“Yup.”

“What do we do?”

“Just chill a minute. They don’t know
we’re…uh-oh.”

“What? Did they see you? Do they know we’re
here?”

She rocked back in her seat, abandoning her low
profile to the man approaching. “They do now.” She looked up at
Carlos and delivered a manufactured smile. “Detective Rodriquez,
good morning. Fancy meeting you here.”

I looked up just as Carlos came to a stop alongside
our table. He did not seem as surprised to see Lilith as I expected
he might, and he definitely did not seem to recognize me.

“Fancy isn’t the word I would use,” he told Lilith.
“Amazing, maybe.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, seeing that a tornado took your house and
all.”

“I noticed.”

“And you did disappear for a while.”

As the two spoke, I noticed Carlos sneaking peculiar
glances at me, each one lasting marginally longer than the last. I
tried avoiding eye contact with him, focusing instead at the bottom
of my coffee cup, which had emptied entirely too soon.

“I didn’t disappear,” Lilith insisted. “As you might
imagine, I had lots of matters to attend to, what with all the
complicated insurance claims, transportation hassles, lodging
issues and the like, I’ve barely had time for a good hot bath.”

“I’m sure,” said Carlos, although, now he was looking
at me again. I could not stop myself from looking up and giving a
little nod hello. I hoped it would get him off my back, but the
inadvertent eye contact only seemed to tweak his interest in me
further.

“Miss Adams,” he said, finally relinquishing his fix
on me, if only temporarily, “at some point in your busy schedule, I
wish you had made the time to come and see us. You have to know
that we all thought you were dead.”

Lilith reeled back in mock surprise. “Did you?”

“Yes. We were very worried.”

“Pity. Well, I am sorry, but clearly, as you see, I
am not dead.”

“Indeed.” He seemed to narrow his attention on her
more intently now. “Clearly, you are not. In fact…”

He hesitated. I knew at once what he was thinking.
The rite of passage had returned Lilith and me to the prime of our
lives. At exactly what age that is, I cannot say. But with me, the
difference was demonstrable, so much so that even my best friend of
thirty years could not recognize me. But Lilith’s change seemed
less obvious. Already a raving beauty before the passage, her
return to prime suggested only a subtle optimization to her
appearance. To say that she looked younger was arguable. To infer
that she looked more alive, indisputable. I have no doubts that
Carlos wrestled with that observation before speaking out, perhaps
even suspecting witchcraft in the equation. But always one for
playing his cards close to his vest, his reluctance to cast
insinuations prevented him from articulating those suspicions.

“In fact, what, Detective?” Lilith asked.

Carlos shook the question out of his head. “Nothing.”
He turned to me again. “So, who’s your friend, here?”

“I smiled up at him. “I’m—”

“That’s my cousin, Tom,” said Lilith. “He’s letting
me stay with him while I straighten out that whole house getting
blown away thing.”

“Is he?” Carlos offered me his hand. “It’s nice to
meet you, Tom.”

I knew that Carlos’ handshake was akin to shaking a
cold fish, so I took it and squeezed it like a nutcracker.
“Pleasure is mine,” I said, and the look on Lilith’s face told me
it was hers, too.

Carlos pulled his hand back and gave me a look like
he might slug me. That is when I knew I had made a mistake. He
crowded his brows and peered into my eyes with unusual focus,
giving me the look that one gives when one can swear he knows you
from somewhere. I thought that if I turned away he might give it
up, but no such luck. He shook his finger at me, narrowed his eyes
and said, “Don’t I know you?”

I shook my head and tried once again to climb into
the bottom of my coffee cup. “I’m sure you don’t,” I said. “I’m not
from around here.”

Lilith volunteered, “He’s from Florida.”

“Oh?”

I slithered lowered in my cup, knowing well that even
Carlos would not miss a slip-up like that.

“Yes, he does those Miami home makeover shows on TV.
That is probably where you’ve seen him before. He gets that a lot.
Don’t you, Tony?”

“Tom,” I said, but I knew the gig was up now.

“Right. Tom.”

Carlos said, “I thought you told me you were staying
with Tom while you get your house situation resolved?”

“I am,” she said. “But he’s my cousin. There’s
nothing inappropriate about that.”

“Inappropriate, no. Logistically complicated,
maybe.”

“Come again?”

“You said he’s from Florida.”

I could almost see the light bulb in Lilith’s head
turn on. “I did, didn’t I?”

“So, which is it?”

She stiffened up in her chair and closed the lid on
her laptop in preparation to leave. “It’s none of your business.
That’s what it is. Now, if you’re through harassing us,
Detective…”

“No!” he said, slamming his fist down on the table.
“I’ve waited three months to get some answers from you, and by God,
I’m going to get them. Now, I know that Detective Marcella drove my
car to your house the night you both disappeared. I want to know
what happened to him!”

“I can’t tell you what happened to him.”

“You can and you will!”

At that moment, Dominic Spinelli came to the table to
help calm the situation. He grabbed Carlos by the arm and tried
pulling him away. A small struggle ensued and words were exchanged.
Our waitress, who had come up behind them with a pot of hot coffee,
got tangled in the brawl, spilling the coffee on them and the
floor. It occurred to me that Lilith and I could try to slip out
the door in the middle of the commotion and never be heard from
again. But seeing Carlos in a fit of desperation, knowing how he
must have agonized over my disappearance and presumed death, I just
could not let the charade continue.

Lilith had already taken to her feet and had packed
her laptop in her tote when I reached across the table and motioned
for her to reclaim her seat. As things settled down, I invited
Carlos and Spinelli to join us at our table. Lilith, I knew, was
not happy about what I planned to do, but she understood that I
needed to do it. Adjusting to the new me was only one of the
problems I had with the whole rite of passage, back to prime thing.
Another was that I had to deal with Lilith’s wishes that we not
tell anyone. For me, that was too high a price to pay.

I stood to properly meet and greet Spinelli, allowing
for the moment the alias, Tom, to go unchallenged. He took my hand
and shook it with the same cold fish grip that Carlos employed. I
resisted the urge to crack it in a manner similar to that which I
described earlier, and for the sake of reconciliation, I
reciprocated with a limp noodle shake of my own. Spinelli took a
seat, and as far as I could tell, saw none of the haunting
similarities in my eyes that intrigued Carlos so keenly. For that
reason, when I sat back down, I purposely cozied up next to Lilith
and directly across from Carlos. I wanted to look him squarely in
the eyes when I told him who I was, mostly out of respect, but
partly for the entertainment value.