Legacy Of Magick (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 1) (16 page)

I felt something pop in my back, and I grunted. “What was that?”

“A little energetic shard of that old spell that was left behind.” She explained. “You are clear of it now.” Gwen looked at her daughter, “That was an impressive bit of casting, Ivy.”

“It wasn’t all me.” Ivy grinned and stood next to me. “Autumn, did most of it.” The pride in her voice almost made me blush.

“Which one of you called the storm?” Gwen wanted to know. She seemed calmer now, almost resigned.

“I did.” I said.

“That was an accident.” Ivy said in my defense.

I rubbed my temple, where a headache had started to brew. “Would it help if I said that I didn’t mean to and don’t even know how it was possible?”

Gwen sighed. “So you want to learn more magick?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You’ll have to find time between your classes and this landscaping job you took on.” Her tone was serious, as was her expression.

“I’ll make the time.”

Gwen smiled at me slowly, but it wasn’t exactly comforting. “It’s going to be intense training. I won’t go easy on you.”

“Bring it on.” I said and matched her tone.

“Holly and I can help teach her. It’ll be fun!” Ivy laughed. “Let’s do something now!” Ivy suggested and scampered out from under the willow branches and towards the walking path in the park.

“I want you to be very careful working with Duncan Quinn.” Gwen warned me quietly. “His family is not to be trusted, no matter how nice he may seem. There is a lot of hate directed at us from that family.”

“Would you feel better if I told you that he invited me to read him?” I made direct eye contact with my aunt. “He also warned me that I shouldn’t use my abilities when I was angry, to be careful because that leads to a dark path.”

“He cautioned you about the dark path,
and
he let you read him?” Gwen seemed surprised.

“Yes Ma’am, he did. And I did read him.” I confirmed.

“Well, I never would have expected that.” Gwen seemed dumbfounded as she mulled over that bit of information. Our conversation was cut short when Ivy came back, slightly soaked from the rain and holding two pebbles, one in each hand.

“One is spelled the other is not,” Ivy announced. “Figure out which is which.”

I gazed thoughtfully at the pebbles. Visually they were unremarkable. I held my right hand over them palm down.

Gwen stopped me by saying. “Use your receptive hand to receive impressions. The receptive hand is opposite of your writing hand, so for you — that’s your left.”

I switched hands and tried that. When my left hand touched Ivy’s hand, I got a flash of her choosing the stones and saying a quick chant. But I couldn’t tell which particular one was spelled. So my postcognitive ability showed me the how but not the particulars. I told Gwen that and wondered what to do next. She only raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Okay, so Witch school is in session.
And Gwen wasn’t kidding about the not going easy on me thing. I considered trying a quick charm, but I didn’t know any. Could I simply make one up myself? I had accidentally called in a storm front, so I ought to be able to do this...

I shook out both my hands and focused on the pebbles that Ivy held. I thought about the four elements. They were all present. I was standing under a tree and on the ground, so there was the earth. Air was obviously all around us. Fire... well maybe I could think of the sun for my fire. And water, dripped down through the willow branches from the rain. In my mind, I pictured them lending me their strength and support.

An idea for a charm popped into my head, and I quietly chanted. “What was cast in secret, is now revealed to me. As I will it, so mote it be.” Immediately one of the pebbles started to glow with a soft purple light. As I watched, a Rune appeared on the pebble in Ivy’s right hand.

“Hey that’s really good!” Ivy said.

“Where’d you learn that charm?” Gwen wanted to know.

“I made it up, I just improvised it.” I admitted.

As I watched, the little Rune faded away. Ivy brought her hands to her mouth and blew across the pebbles. It looked like the bit of magick was gone. Then, she cheerfully chucked them out back on the path where she found them.

Gwen stood there, looking at me with a serious expression. “You really made that charm up spontaneously?”

“Yeah, was that okay?” I asked her.

“What’s your schedule for the rest of the day?” Gwen asked me.

A little caught off guard, I answered. “I don’t have anything going on.”

“You do now.” Gwen announced. “Girls, gather your things. We are heading back to the shop. Ivy, you’ve got the counter for the afternoon. Autumn and I are going to start training. Immediately.”

“Please tell me I’m not going to be doing that in the middle of the store, in front of the customers.” I grimaced as we stepped out from under the sheltering willow.

Gwen pushed the button on her umbrella handle and it snapped open, just like magick. “Well, of course not. We will use the class room space in the back.”

Ivy and I scurried back to my truck and Gwen walked behind us, casually with her umbrella. The rain was really coming down now, so Ivy and I quickly got into the truck and waited for Gwen.

“You impressed her.” Ivy confided to me.

“Really?” I wiped the rain out of my eyes, and considered that.

“Yeah, otherwise you would have gotten a top volume lecture.” Ivy pulled a large bandana out of her pocket and offered it to me. “Tell you more later.” She said as Gwen joined us.

***    

Magick, it turns out is a hell of a lot of work. I mean, who knew? Apparently I had gotten lucky, using a combination of postcognition and an impromptu ‘find the spelled pebble’ charm in the park, because for the rest of the day Gwen busted my ass, and nothing came as easily as that first charm. By the time she finished with me on Saturday, I was worn out. I now had an impressive list of magickal books to read, a massive amount of correspondences to memorize, and a quiz to look forward to at the end of the week. Seriously. A quiz.

According to my aunt, raw talent and luck were one thing, but discipline, training, study and practice was what would yield me dependable results. I was a good Witch student and threw myself into it. After a few days I saw a little improvement, and that kept me motivated to squeeze in Craft studies between my grad school studying.

The following Friday, I was back on campus with
another
huge reading list, this time from my Introduction to Museum Studies class. I had left my afternoon class and went straight to the university library, wanting to get some studying in before I broke ground at Duncan’s rehabbed house the next day. The weather was much cooler now, and to celebrate I strolled into the library wearing my favorite boots, old jeans, and a new persimmon colored sweater. According to my Craft studies, orange was a color that promoted vitality. Whether it was color magick or not, the new sweater did make me feel a little sassy. I saw Bran working behind the reference desk when I entered the library, and he’d deigned to give me a nod.

The pompous ass. Just when I thought he might be coming around. The news of my working with Duncan had puckered him right up again. I resisted the urge to sneer at him, and instead, as I was a more superior, highly evolved being, I waited until I was in the stacks to do so.

Despite being in my cousin’s domain, I had to admit that the university library had a great atmosphere. Lots of dark wood trim and pretty old fashioned green study lamps were at each table. I found a quiet table, sat down with my stack of books, legal pad, and pens. I adjusted the little lamp, got out my laptop, and happily worked on my assignments.

I’d been working for maybe an hour, the comings and goings of the other students didn’t disturb me, I was used to studying in libraries. I flagged a few pages to copy out of the best reference book of the lot, and noticed that someone was standing across the table from me.

Not only standing, but rudely staring, was a man maybe in his early sixties. He had salt and pepper hair that receded back in a widow’s peak. He wore an expensive looking grey pin striped suit, and his eyes were unfriendly and dark. He could have been an attractive older man, but he stared down at me like I was an interesting bug he’d unfortunately happened to come across.

As I met his eyes, I swear I felt the temperature drop in the library. I felt defensive and belligerent from the way he was looking me over. Since the man might have been faculty at the University, instead of saying something sarcastic, I asked politely, “Is there a problem?”

The man scoffed, pulled out a chair, and sat uninvited, directly across from me. He took his time smoothing out his slacks after he sat, and then folded his hands on the table top. He gave me a look that was challenging and a little intimidating.

“You’re Autumn Bishop.” He said quietly.

“Yes. And you are?”

“Thomas Drake.” He introduced himself, and, even though his voice was quiet, the words seemed to make an emotional impact square in the middle of my chest. This was Duncan’s uncle, and his creepy cousin Julian’s father.

I didn’t say it was nice to meet him, because I had a really, really bad feeling about this. I may be new to the whole witchcraft thing, but I could feel bad vibes coming off of him.
This
was the person that had my father’s family in such a snit. And after spending only a moment in his presence, I was starting to understand why.

“So, you are going to be working with my nephew now? Planting flowers, I believe?” His voice was fluid and elegantly disdainful, and made me want to get away from him as quickly as possible.

With a sudden insight, I knew that this man was used to getting his own way, by whatever means necessary. It also became very clear, as he smirked at me, that Thomas Drake was trying to intimidate me. Showing weakness would be a very bad idea. So instead of bolting, I folded my arms and rested them on the desk as I considered how to best handle him.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Drake?” I bluffed, and acted as if I was bored.

“Right this moment? Not a thing. But I do have plans for you and your psychic abilities in the very near future.” He said with a slight smile.

I felt my skin crawl and worked hard not to recoil from him, because, jeez, this guy was creepy as shit. “Not interested.” I told him as I picked up my pen and acted as if I was going to finish taking notes out of the library books.

“My dear, the things I could teach you... there is so much more to our world than you know.”

“Pass.” I said straight faced and in a bored tone.

His laugh was low, and seriously made me think of a movie villain. “You have courage.” He stated. “I like that.” His tone was seductive, and made my stomach heave.

Yeah, and that was
way
more than enough. I started to scan the area to see how many other people were close by, since I might need to call for help. Embarrassing as that might have been, I would bet that a man like Drake would not want to cause a scene in public. But as I looked around, I saw that no one was in my immediate area. And there should have been. The library had been full of students a while ago. Students studying, working on their laptops, and browsing the stacks. That was weird. Where did everyone go?

He used a reluctance.
I realized and my heart started to beat faster. He had spelled the area to keep people away so he could talk to me. I focused and looked at him, hard. The room behind him looked slightly out of focus and the normal background noises of the library were muted, almost like we were under a big glass dome.

“Nice reluctance.” I said in an off hand tone. “Kind of overkill for a public place though.” I shrugged, like it was nothing of importance, but my muscles were coiled and I shifted in my chair, ready to move quickly, should it become necessary.

“You are much more like Gwen than Arthur. Your aunt, she has courage. Your father, unfortunately... was a coward.”

Fear disappeared. I pushed up to my feet, leaned over the table and into his personal space. “You know
nothing
about my father.”

He glanced up at me unconcerned, “Sit down.” He suggested, and calmly flicked his hand in my direction — and I found myself sitting.

I blinked in confusion.
How the hell did he do that?
I tried to move, and discovered that I couldn’t.

“I admire your spirit.” He seemed almost pleased with me, and he leaned back in his chair totally relaxed. “My dear, your father ran from this town with your Cowan mother over twenty years ago. He turned his back on his legacy, his blood, and then he obviously bound your powers. Those are the actions of a coward.” Drake explained almost patiently. He brushed lint off his jacket sleeve and then added. “By the way, how did any of that work out for you?”

My butt may have been stuck to the chair, but my brain and mouth were still working just fine. “Listen Slick,” I said. “I’m not sure what you are trying to prove with this little power play, but even I know you can’t hold this forever.”

“If I could please have a moment of your undivided attention.” Thomas said and snapped his fingers under my nose.

I yanked my head back and then felt a pressure squeeze tight around my chest. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe. He certainly had my attention now.

“Your father took something that belonged to me, twenty two years ago. A grimoire. It’s called the Blood Moon Grimoire. It is an antique book, bound in dark red leather. I want you to retrieve it and bring it back to me.” His eyes were intense as he spoke.

He snapped his fingers again and the pressure let up. I gasped for air and started struggling again. “If you know that he bound my powers, what makes you think he would have given an old spell book to me?” I tried to ask and catch my breath, all at the same time.

Thomas Drake ignored my attempts to move and leaned in a little closer across the library table. “You will retrieve the Blood Moon Grimoire and bring it to me before the next full moon, or there will be consequences.”

“What do you mean consequences?” I asked.
What did that give me, less than three weeks?