Putting on the Witch (14 page)

Read Putting on the Witch Online

Authors: Joyce and Jim Lavene

He paused, and I asked, “What is it? Do you have some evidence to the contrary?”

“I do not.” He sighed. “I suppose I was hoping it was Abdon Fuller, as he possibly is the only one left alive who knows the secret to imprisoning me in the wall again.”

“What about Hedyle? Isn't she the oldest of the council? Wouldn't she know the secret?”

“I do not know. Makaleigh carried the secret. I thought Abdon did as well.” He shrugged. “Alas! I was hoping to seek my freedom, but perhaps it is not to be. Be wary, Molly. There is danger all around you.”

He left the alcove, disappearing quickly in the hall. I left immediately behind him, considering his plight, understanding how hated he was and the terrible things he'd done but certain that he'd earned a spot of redemption.

Reaching the main hall again, Rhianna Black was in my sights with a sterling silver fork moving cheesecake from a silver plate to her mouth. She was laughing at one of the other witches, who seemed to be doing stand-up comedy for the guests. It was a perfect opportunity. All I had to do was wait until she finished.

But a delicate hand took mine, and a pair of sky blue eyes peered into my face. “You are Molly Renard, are you not?” Hedyle, the eldest of the witches on the council, inserted herself between me and Rhianna's cheesecake. “I should love to have a private conversation with you.”

CHAPTER 17

I hated to leave without getting Rhianna's fork, but I could hardly tell Hedyle that I didn't want to talk to her. She was an ancient Greek poetess whose work had been recorded on scrolls before being translated into books during the 1800s. She had a wealth of flowing white hair and a wonderful, calm manner that put me immediately at ease.

We went into another small room. This one was empty. A single window looked out on a romantic view of the ocean. I wondered if it was the Atlantic and we were closer to home than we thought. The color scheme here was suited to the ocean view, all shades of blue and green. There was another massive fireplace with carved statues of mermaids on it.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked, taking one of the two upholstered blue chairs in the room.

It was a perfect setup to get her fingerprints on a spoon, cup or saucer. But it was difficult to think about those things when I was faced with her clear eyes. I couldn't help but
recall how old she was, and how much she knew and had seen in her time.

“No. Thanks.” I smiled as I said it, thinking how remarkable she was. I'd read her poems when I was a teenager. She had great clarity of thought—it reflected in her gaze, which was very open and honest.

I reminded myself that she was still a member of the Council of Witches and I needed to take care what I said to her. She was very powerful and probably shared the other council members' viewpoints on behavior and rules of witches.

“If you don't mind, I'd like a cup.” She rang a tiny silver bell, and a servant appeared, holding a beautiful flowered tray with a tea service for two on it.

“Please do.” I stared at her hands as she poured the tea and dismissed the servant from the room. They weren't gnarled or blue veined as one might think with her age. They were as smooth and free of old-age spots as a young woman's hands. Strong magic accomplished this.

“What about baklava?” she invited. “It has always been one of my favorites.”

“I'm not partial to sweets.” It wasn't a lie, exactly, but I enjoyed good baklava in the right company where I didn't feel threatened.

“Oh, come on, Molly! It won't hurt you to break some baklava with me,” she coaxed. “It's not poisoned.”

“All right.” I took a piece of the honey and nut sweet from her on a tiny saucer. “Thank you.”

We were finally settled with tea and baklava. She sat back in her chair, her keen eyes searching my face. “All of this running around, summoning the witchfinder and so on. I've known the whole time that the answer is in
you
, Molly. Something passed between you and Makaleigh. What did she say to you before she passed?”

I choked on a bit of baklava and excused myself, putting
a tiny cloth napkin to my lips as I gathered my thoughts. I had only myself to blame for allowing her to put me at ease with sweets and tea. “I'm sorry. Makaleigh said something to me before she died, but it was impossible to say what it was. Her words were so low, and possibly in another language. I couldn't understand. I'm sorry to disappoint you.”

“Don't be sorry.” Her lips became a straight line in her unblemished face. “We'll figure out what it was. What she said holds the answer to everything, Molly. Do you understand? It's imperative that we know what she said. You may not realize consciously what it was, but it's there in your brain. All we have to do is dig it out.”

That didn't sound inviting. Neither did the tone she used. It reminded me more of a threat if I couldn't tell her what she wanted to know. Was she afraid of what Makaleigh had said to me? What real difference did it make?

“I've thought of almost nothing else since it happened,” I assured her, putting down my saucer and cup. “I wish I could be more help. It's possible she didn't see her killer, since she was attacked from behind. Her last words might give us no clue as to who it was that killed her.”


Ah
.” Hedyle's gaze held mine. “Did I say we were looking for the killer's name or face? No. That is not all that is at stake. Makaleigh had secrets she left with—secrets we need to know. No doubt she told you but you couldn't understand on a level of your mind that will help us.”

“I don't understand what you're saying.” I was really afraid. Her calm demeanor meant nothing to me now.

“There is very old magic that can give us the answer to this question. Do you submit? I shall not use it on you unless you agree, that I promise you. Relax. You need not fear me.”

My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking. I was having trouble thinking as I felt the fierceness of her gaze. Her eyes seemed to bore into mine, trying to force the secrets from me whether I gave permission or not. I wanted
to know what Makaleigh had said, but old magic—the sort she was referring to—was never a good idea. No doubt Hedyle knew countless spells I would never guess at and couldn't keep from falling under. She was more powerful than I would ever be. Even the amulet might not be able to protect me from whatever she had in mind. I was terrified to agree with what she wanted, yet I could feel her trying to bend my will to hers.

“I see you have some doubt in you as to whether or not I should use the spell.” Hedyle sipped her tea, but her eyes remained on me. “Perhaps there is something you are hiding? Something you fear the council will learn if you submit to a discovery spell?”

A discovery spell! I'd heard of these spells. They were like truth serum for witches, forcing you to reveal anything and everything you know, even things the questioner might not ask.

She was right in thinking I would never submit—I couldn't think of a witch that would. That was why the council didn't just use them on everyone here at the party to figure out who'd killed Makaleigh. Admitting that her words were true would be like telling her I was keeping something from the council—which I was. Joe was invisible to them. They didn't realize that he knew about magic. I couldn't jeopardize that secret, not even to find Makaleigh's killer.

I fumbled, picking up my cup from the tray and sipping from it to mask my nervousness and uncertainty, partly because I needed a moment to consider what I should say, and partly because there were baklava crumbs stuck in my throat. I sipped the fragrant brew slowly and tried to gather my wits.

“I'd like to help you,” I finally said. “But I was there. I know what I heard. It was gibberish from a dying woman. I don't think it would help find her killer, or whatever you're looking for.”

Hedyle nodded slowly. “And if I insist?”

Her will came down on my head like the crash of ocean waves, pulling at my senses until they were spinning. It was all I could do to tell up from down as I was dragged deeper into her eyes. I didn't raise my hand to my amulet, but it began glowing softly in response to the threat.

That water magic brought me back to myself with a start. It made me want to run from the room to get away from Hedyle. She'd almost trapped me into agreeing to the discovery spell, letting her search my mind and my soul for what she wanted. Realizing the threat she was posing, I held the amulet flat against my skin. If necessary, I decided, I would call for help from the Bone Man. There wasn't much I wouldn't do to protect Joe and Mike from the council.

“I see.” Her gaze broke from mine and focused on the amulet and the ocean waves breaking inside it. “An interesting piece of jewelry. A gift from the sea. Very potent.” She reached a hand to touch it and was stung by a mild shock issued from it. “You are correct. It might deflect my magic from working on you.”

From what I could tell, it had worked to keep her magic from reaching its tendrils into my brain and sapping my will. I had almost fallen into an apathy as she'd been speaking, ready to give her what she wanted and allow her to use the discovery spell on me. Thank goodness I hadn't left it at home as Elsie was always trying to convince me to do.

Hedyle held her hand against her, obviously unpleasantly surprised by the power of the amulet. “Suppose I made you a blood oath that I shall not divulge to another living being the secret you hide? Would that influence your decision?”

“No.” Nothing she could say would make me feel safe telling her that Joe knew about magic. I had seen too many people lose their loved ones to the strict council edict that made erasing all memory of magic ruin their lives. “You may
be able to force me. That I can't say. But I won't willingly allow you to use that magic on me. Too much is at stake.”

“The power in that amulet is wild magic, you know. Unsanctioned by the council. You could be banned from using it.”

“I know what it is and where it came from,” I told her plainly. “I won't give it up. It has been in my family for many generations. The council shouldn't think it can get rid of everything it fears.”

She sighed and played with the shell bracelet on her wrist. “You have something from Makaleigh in you, Molly. But I won't force it from you. I hope you will reconsider and allow me to bring it out. It may be the only way we will ever solve this mystery.”

“I understand, and I may be able to find another way to bring it out.” I had no idea how, but it made it sound like I was trying anyway.

“Indeed.” Her gaze seemed even more disturbed after I'd said it.

What was she hiding? What information did Makaleigh have that she didn't want other witches to know?

There were no pleasantries ending the conversation between us. The servant came back for the tray. Hedyle walked slowly from the small room. I stayed behind to consider her words.

It occurred to me a moment later that I'd missed my opportunity to get her fingerprints, but that seemed unimportant compared to her certainty that knowledge I possessed from Makaleigh was something earth-shattering, worth dragging from my head. I was scared even though the amulet had protected me.

How could I withhold that information? Would she allow me to withhold it? I wouldn't allow Hedyle to take Joe's secret from me with it. That I was certain of. I hoped I could
keep her at bay and not be fooled into giving her what she wanted.

Maybe there was another way—one with fewer potential side effects. Elsie, Brian and Dorothy might be strong enough to create a discovery spell and use it on me. They knew about Joe, and I trusted them with that secret. Whatever Makaleigh had said to me, I trusted them with that too.

I stalked back into the kitchen, where Brian and Dorothy were excited to have taken fingerprints from Zuleyma and Larissa.

“We're looking at them now,” Brian said. “I think I missed my calling. I kind of like being a cop.”

“A witch cop.” Dorothy smiled at him. “That might be interesting.”

“What's wrong, Molly?” he asked me.

“Nothing, really. I need to speak with all of you at one time. Maybe later.”

“Did you get any prints?” Dorothy asked.

“No. I missed a few opportunities. Something else has come up.”

Elsie raced in holding a silver butter knife. “I got Sarif's print! Two down, one to go.”

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