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Changeling: An Appalachian Magic Novel Book 2 (Appalachian Magic Series) Page 16
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Page 16
“Of molten lava you were born
From earth’s hot core you were torn
Now within you much is stored
Traumas and visions are your hoard
Trapped inside metallic sheen
You hold a memory, not a dream
Release it now that we may see
Who our friends or enemies be.”
Wisps of grayish-green smoke arose from the stone’s center, leaving its surface looking like melted black glass.
There was the carafe of absinthe with pixies glowing above the green fluid. As before, the black gloved hand came into view, placing a metal tray over the top of the bottle, trapping the pixies where they would die by drowning after a prolonged period of exhaustion and lack of oxygen.
Callie moved her hand over the obsidian, manipulating the angle of the image so that a bit more of the glove came into focus. A dainty silver bracelet shone at the edge of the glove where it met a wrist.
“Definitely a woman,” Skye whispered. So much for her theory that the killer was the guy who came in for the after-hours tarot readings. “Can you zoom any closer on the bracelet?”
Callie moved her open left palm so it hovered only an inch above the stone. The bracelet came into view with its silver chain links and a tiny heart inscribed with G & M.
“Glenna!” Skye jumped up, breaking the trance. “It stands for Glenna and Mickey. She showed it to me a couple of weeks ago. I should have known it was her from the beginning. Wait until I get my hands on that psycho bitch.”
Callie sat back and began frantically blowing on her left palm. “Get me some ice. Quick!”
Skye ran to the kitchen, flipping on lights as she went from one room to the next. “Here.” She shoved an ice cube over the one-inch, round burn on Callie’s hand. “Sorry, Callie. How bad is it?”
“Stings, but I’ll live.”
Skye poked at the obsidian and saw it had singed a hole in the altar cloth and blackened a bit of the coffee table’s wood. “Wow, it didn’t burn like that when I used it.”
“Because you’re gifted with elemental earth magic.”
Skye laughed.
“Stop it.” Callie banged her non-injured hand on the table. “Listen to me. You have more power than you suspect. I feel it in you. There’s a time coming when you are going to have to dig down deep and draw on that power. You can do it.”
Skye rolled her eyes at the pep talk, but when Callie glared, she held up her hands in mock defense. “Okay, all right. Whatever you say.”
Callie nodded. “Do you suspect this Glenna acted alone in the killings?”
Skye cocked her head to one side, considering. She’d never liked her co-worker and couldn’t imagine anyone else at the store with a dark side. “No, I really think it’s just her. But what surprises me about Glenna is that I thought she was too stupid to pull off some kind of elaborate scheme. That, and the fact that she’s a total fake. If she’s a true psychic, I’m the tooth fairy.” Skye winced at her own analogy.
Callie’s brow creased and she again tapped a finger over her lips. “There must be something else I can do to help.”
“I know. You could do a binding spell on Glenna to make her stop killing the fairies.” Skye leaned forward in excitement.
“I will. But I still think there’s something we’re missing here.”
Skye grinned. “Did you bring your crystal ball when you flew in on your broomstick tonight?”
“Hardly. My Dixie doodlebug is still going strong—even with over 200,000 miles on it.”
Callie delicately blew on the burn, her rosebud lips puckering in an absolutely adorable way. Even when injured, she managed to look as graceful as a ballerina. Skye mentally contrasted her own appearance—tangled, purple hair, dirty and sweaty from the night fly, and still wearing red sweat pant bottoms with her sweatshirt all scrunched up at a weird angle, wings poking out.
She yawned and stretched her arms. The smell of incense lingered and that, combined with the ebb of her adrenaline rush, left Skye drowsy. “I don’t know how well I can sleep with these wings in my way. Plus, the last two times, I woke up either in a treetop or found a fairy invasion in my bathroom.”
“Go to sleep,” Callie said. “I’ll be here to keep an eye out. No fairies allowed. I’ll light some sage and do a protection ritual.”
Skye grabbed a pillow and sank on the couch. “While you’re at it, how about doing some magic to get rid of my wings? Very inconvenient. Don’t know how I’m supposed to hide them.” She sat upright and smacked her forehead. “I’m supposed to go into work later.”
“I’ll wake you up at the last minute and you can call in sick.” Callie walked clockwise around the room with a burning smudge stick. “As for your wings, that’s for you to work out with the fairies at Samhain.”
Skye was silent, watching Callie’s deliberate protection ceremony. Callie was right, this was something she had to figure out herself. But first she needed some sleep to come up with a game plan.
Callie continued sweeping the room with the sage.
“No fairy beings great or small
May enter by door, window or wall.”
Her friend’s familiar voice was a soft, soothing lullaby and Skye shut her eyes. Her words seemed to come from a great distance, instead of across the room.
“Be ye good, or evil, or in between,
Keep away this day, stay out of her dreams.”
As I will, so mote it be, Skye mentally added, allowing the peace of sleep to shut down her mind.
Callie had left hours earlier after an emergency call that the coven needed her. Her friend was indispensable in protecting the coven members from dangers that roamed the Appalachian hills. She’d miss her, but Callie had insisted she had the power to handle this situation on her own.
At exactly 4:00 p.m., Skye walked in The Green Fairy, determined not to sit at home and wait for Kheelan or Annwynn to show up with their dubious offers of protection. The binding on her wings itched.
“You look awful,” Glenna said in greeting.
Skye didn’t trust herself to even look at Glenna, afraid her contempt would be written plainly on her face. She would make sure Glenna didn’t go down in the basement to set out anymore fairy traps. Easy enough to handle for tonight. Samhain was tomorrow. She could do her thing for the good fairies and life could go back to normal.
Normal. Back to being ditzy, pitiful un-witchy Skye with no magic and no boyfriend. Unless the fairies didn’t help her get rid of the ridiculous wings. Then she’d just be Freaky Skye. And what would happen to Kheelan? Even if he wanted to stay here in Tuscaloosa with her, he was at the mercy of the fairies as to where he lived and what he could do.
She put her pocketbook in Claribel’s office, stashed her cell phone in her pocket, and made her way to the coffee shop. She patted the phone. She’d called Kheelan over an hour ago and left him a message to call her about the pixie case. No word from him yet.
“Rosemary.” Kyle sidled up next to her.
“You think I need some rosemary tea?” she asked. Skye noted his brown hair, slightly shorter and curlier than Kheelan’s and his nervous hands always plucking or touching or drumming. No tattoo. She wondered who had come out on the better end of this fairy deal—Kyle or Kheelan.
“Energy.” Kyle nodded and pointed to her eyes. “Sleepy.”
“Okay, I’ll get some rosemary tea, but I’m going to need my Diet Coke too.”
Kyle didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence before he turned around. Impulsively, she touched his arm. “Are you happy, Kyle?”
Startled, he faced her directly. She glimpsed his confusion before he shifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah.”
She wasn’t sure he understood the question. He answered everything ‘yeah’ when he didn’t understand what was being asked.
“Do you like picture books?”
“Yeah.”
“Is your name Thomas?”
“Yeah.” He coc
ked his head to the side as if he heard an invisible, distant melody.
Skye stopped her pointless interrogation and let him walk away. If Kyle was returned to the fairy realm – would he be able to talk to the fairies? Could he be one of them again?
She poured the tea, added some stevia and took a sip. It really was refreshing, not as much as her diet soda, but every little bit of strength she could get after last night, she’d take. Maybe tomorrow night she could ask the Fae about accepting Kyle back into their world.
Or maybe not. He could get trapped there and be worse off than he was right now. She rubbed a hand over her face. Too confusing.
Skye made her way back to the retail area, helping customers and restocking shelves. She ignored Glenna, perched on a chair by the cash register as usual. The shadows deepened in the store, and when Skye looked out the window, the blood moon was full in the encroaching darkness, the stars strewn like rare red diamonds.
There were more customers than usual tonight. People came in looking for something spooky for Halloween, black cat figurines, séance books and spell kits. A gaggle of giggling girls approached Skye and after much elbow poking, a petite brunette, dressed all in black was made spokeswoman.
“Do you have any Ouija Boards?”
Skye stifled a sigh. “This way.” She led them to the right shelf.
“Have you ever used one before?” she asked.
Two of them shook their heads ‘no’ while the tallest one shrugged and answered. “A couple of times. It gave nonsense answers. I got nothing out of it, but Molly and Amber thought it would be fun at our Halloween party.”
Skye handed them the box, torn between making a sale and cautioning the girls. “It’s really not a toy. Be careful, okay? Light some candles for protection and if anything unusual happens, be sure to send it away before you put the board up.”
“Oooh… spooky,” one of them mocked.
“What do you mean by ‘send it away’?” asked the Molly girl.
She twirled a blond curl and shuffled her feet.
“Some say the board calls Spirits; others say it’s your subconscious directing the answers. Either way, it can be a bit creepy,” she explained.
Molly rubbed her arms. “I don’t know Amber, maybe we shouldn’t.”
“You’re such a wuss.” Amber took the box from Skye. “We’ll take some black and orange candles too so we can like, set the mood, ya know?”
Skye was about to send them to Glenna when she noticed her coworker wasn’t plopped in her usual spot at the counter. A shiver of unease crept up her spine. It’s okay. Glenna’s probably getting a drink at the coffeehouse.
Drink. She thought of the absinthe, aka fairy crack, downstairs. Before closing up, she’d have to go in the basement and make sure no absinthe was poured in the carafe as a fairy lure. She pulled the phone out of her coat pocket to check the time. Only eight o’clock, another hour to go before closing. And still no message from Kheelan. She frowned, checking the bars to make sure it was fully charged.
“Uh . . . we’re ready to leave,” one of the girls said.
Skye saw they were all waiting, watching her curiously.
“The candles are up by the register.” She headed there, picking up a sage smudge stick on the way. After ringing them up, she slipped the stick to Molly. “This is on the house. If you feel uneasy afterwards, burn this in the room.”
Molly shot her a grateful smile and Skye felt reassured that at least one of them was level-headed enough to take some precautions.
Skye dragged a box of books from behind the counter and kicked it over to the bookshelf for stocking. Perspiration on her body chilled her and she pulled the heavy coat more tightly around her body. The skin around her wings itched mercilessly, but she didn’t dare take off her coat and risk exposure. The fairies had to help her get rid of them. She couldn’t live like this, halfway in both worlds.
She split open the package with some box cutters and put up the books, determined to keep busy.
“What are you, sick or something?” Glenna was by her side, arms folded, hair hanging over half her face. “You look ridiculous working in that heavy coat.”
Skye took the excuse Glenna handed her. “Bad cold. Maybe you should stay away.”
“You shouldn’t be here. I don’t want to catch your cold.”
“Always sympathetic.” Skye kept stocking, not wanting to look in Glenna’s storm gray eyes. Her lips tightened and she slammed the books into place with jerky motions.
“It’s almost closing time and Claribel and Mama D won’t be back in until tomorrow. I can lock up tonight,” said Glenna.
Startled, Skye almost dropped a book. “You’ve never offered to help before. You must be the one sick.”
“No, just looking out for my health. Go home, Skye.”
Gray eyes clashed with green ones as they faced each other.
Skye couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“I’m not leaving. I know why you want to stay late tonight.”
“You do?” Glenna uncrossed her arms, leaning forward slightly.
“Pixie killer.” It felt good to get it out in the open.
Glenna’s mouth opened and closed. “Did you call me a pixie murderer? Hanging around Claribel has made you lose your freaking mind. Get a grip.”
Skye walked a step forward, only inches between them now. “I’ve been in the backroom of the basement. I’ve seen the absinthe and I know what you’re doing with it.”
Glenna gasped and slowly stepped back. “How did you know?” Her face flushed in a combination of guilt and anger. “I mean . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.” Skye poked a finger at Glenna’s chest. “You’ve been in that locked room with the cases of absinthe. You’ve even worn black gloves and poured some of the absinthe in the carafe.” Skye clasped Glenna’s right wrist. “The bracelet gave you away. I saw it when you put the metal tray over the carafe’s opening.”
Glenna twisted out of Skye’s grasp, taking another step back. “Okay, I admit it. I’ve been down there. But it’s not what you think.” Her eyes darted around the store.
“I don’t care who sees us.” Skye said. “What people think right now is the least of my worries.”
“I was just, you know, doing a favor for someone.” Glenna licked her lips.
“Do the words ‘Dark Fae’ mean anything to you?”
“Huh?” Glenna acted confused. Although, act could be the key word here. “Hey, I don’t have to take this from you.” She scurried away, faster than Skye had ever seen her move before.
No doubt about it. After closing, she was going in that basement and making sure the absinthe wasn’t set out. Just in case any pixies with a craving for 150 proof alcohol were still left flying around. And she would definitely have to speak with Claribel tomorrow about Glenna. If she was lucky, tonight was the last time she’d have to deal with her nastiness. No way would Claribel want to keep on an employee who treated the fairies like Glenna did.
She opened her phone again. 8:45 and still no messages. Shoot, tonight would have been perfect for Kyle and Kheelan to meet since everyone would be out of the store soon. She texted Callie, made sure she’d gotten home okay. Seconds later, Callie responded. I’m home and all’s well. TTYS p.s. stay strong.
“Yours.” A black velvet charm bag was shoved in her hand.
“Kyle, it’s so sweet of you to make this for me. Any special reason?”
His eyes slid away as if searching for a far-away place and he rocked bath and forth on his feet. “Danger.” He stated it flatly in his monotone way. “Herbs help.”
Skye opened the bag an inch, sniffed the pungent aroma, and sneezed violently. “What did you put in here?” She slid open the pouch’s drawstring, emptying the contents into one palm. There were several rusty nails, a thimble sized silver bell, herbs and twigs.
Her eyes watered from the fumes and her hand itched and burned. “Foxglove,” said Kyle. �
�Birch, nettles.”
The ingredients for protection and exorcism, and the nails, with their iron content, a proven fairy allergen. Which explained her severe reaction to Kyle’s gift.
Fairy repellant. Skye hastily scooped the contents back in the bag and stuffed it in a pocket.
The shop door rang and a perky thirty-something woman, with black, bobbed hair, waved in their direction. “Ready to head home, Kyle?”
He jerked his head in the direction of the coffee shop. “All done,” he said.
“Thanks for coming in, Kyle,” Skye said. “You did a good job today. Mama D will be proud of you.”
He nodded and spoke again. “Count cards.”
Startled, she gazed at his profile, not sure if he was talking to her or Melissa who had come to drive him back to his group home. “Count what cards, Kyle?” But he was several feet away, walking toward his ride.
“Bye-bye,” he called out to Skye without looking back. So much for getting Kyle and Kheelan together tonight. She watched as several of the others made ready to leave, Glenna at the head of the line. Good riddance.
“Psycho,” Glenna called out before slamming the door shut.
Sighing with relief, Skye locked herself in and took the money into Claribel’s office to put up in the overnight safe.
Count cards. She tapped her lips with her fingers, trying to understand Kyle’s message. Usually when people said, ‘count cards,’ it meant cheating at poker. The autistic character in Rainman, counting cards at a Vegas casino, flashed in her mind. The only cards she had any familiarity with were the tarot deck.
Bingo—the tarot cards. She had once remarked to Glenna that some cards in the shop deck must be missing since Glenna kept picking the same depressing ones all the time. Had Kyle been around that day? She couldn’t remember. But it was the only clue she could grasp from his cryptic words.
The tarot deck was in its customary place, wrapped in purple silk behind the register. Skye set up a mini altar with white candles anointed with frankincense and cinnamon oils. After lighting the candles, she rubbed her palms together to raise energy and chanted: