White Witch, Black Curse

The dusty box my mom had brought over last fall was pretty much empty. There was a scarily small T-shirt from Disneyland. Some bric-a-brac. My old diary, which I had started some time after my dad died and I realized pain could be remade once you gave it the permanence of words. The books that had once filled the box were now in the kitchen, but the eight-hundred-level ley line arcane textbook Robbie had given me for the winter solstice hadn't been among them. I hadn't thought it was here, but I had wanted to check before I went over to my mom's and got her stirred up by looking for it in her attic. It had to be somewhere.

But it wasn't in my closet, and sitting back on my heels, I pushed a long curl out of my eyes and exhaled, gazing at the single-paned, night-darkened stained-glass window my bedroom had. Without the book, I had no hope of re-creating the spell I'd done eight years ago to give a spirit in purgatory a temporary body. I was missing a few hard-to-find ley line tools as well. Not to mention that the charm needed a whopping big boost of communal energy.

Being at the closing of the circle at Fountain Square on the solstice would do it. I knew that from experience, but the solstice was come and gone. I was banned from the Howlers' arena, so that was out, even if they did have a game in the snow. New Year's was my next best bet. They didn't close the circle, but there would be a party, and when people started singing "Auld Lang Syne," the energy flowed. I had three days to find everything. It didn't look good.

"Well, Tink loves a duck," I said, and Jenks, resting on my dresser among my perfumes, buzzed his wings. The pixy hadn't left my side since finding out we had a ghost. I thought it was funny. Pierce had been here almost a year. Why it bothered Jenks now I had no idea.

Though our hour had come and gone, Ford was still in the kitchen, slowly talking to Pierce one letter at a time as I listened in while whipping up a batch of earth-magic locator amulets. The demon curse would have been easier, but I wasn't going to twist demon magic in front of Ford. I had a bad feeling I'd done the complex charm wrong since nothing happened when I invoked the first potion with a drop of my blood and spilled it on the amulet. Mia was probably outside the quarter-mile radius within which it worked, but I should've smelled something.

"You think the book is still at your mom's?" Jenks asked, his wings a blur though his butt was still settled on my dresser. The sound of his kids playing with Rex was loud, and I wondered how long the cat would last before she hid from them.

"I'll find out tonight," I said firmly as I refolded the box and shoved it into a pile of boots. "I must have left it at Mom's when I moved out," I said around a stretch to get the kinks out of my back. "It's probably in the attic along with the stuff to do it." I hope.

I stood, glancing at my alarm clock. I was meeting Marshal at his apartment in less than an hour, and from there we were driving to my mom's so it would look more like a "date." Finding an excuse to get up into the attic might be hard, but Marshal could help. I didn't want to ask my mom about the book. The first time I'd used it, I'd gotten in major trouble with the I.S.

Hands on my hips, I gazed at the unusual sight of the back of my closet. Shoes and boots were everywhere, and the thought of Newt possessing me, clearing out my closet in the search for her memory, rose up. Suddenly nervous, I shoved the box away and began carefully putting my boots back.

Jenks took to the air, his legs unfolding to reach the top of the dresser and his face tight with worry. "Why do you want to give him a body anyway? You don't even know why he's here. How come Ford hasn't asked him that? Huh? He's been spying on us."

Wondering where that had come from brought my head up. "Jenks, he's been dead for a hundred years. Why would Pierce be spying on us?" I huffed, nudging the last of my boots into line.

"If he's not spying on us, then why is he here?" Jenks asked, arms crossed belligerently.

Hand on my hip, I gestured in exasperation. "I don't know! Maybe because I helped him once and he thinks I can help him again. That's what we do, you know. What's with you, Jenks! You've been bitchy all night."

The pixy sighed, his wings stopping to look gossamer and silk. "I don't like it," he said. "He's been here for a year watching us. Messing with your phone."

"He's been trying to get noticed." The air pressure shifted, and Ivy's footsteps echoed in the sanctuary.

"Ivy?" Jenks said loudly, then he darted out.