Arrest, Search and Séance : Book 1 of the Fringe Society by R.D. Hunter (pdf e book reader TXT) 📕

I only had one more question to ask.

“Beth, I found Nichole’s sacred space and her Book of Shadows was missing. There was also no sign of any charged quartz or crystals anywhere. Do you know anything about that?” For the second time since I’d met her, the young girl’s face grew pale with dismay.

“Oh my God! That book was Nichole’s most prized possession. She wrote everything down in that; all her spells, rituals, even summonings and true names. It was twice as thick as mine.” That wasn’t good.

“What about the crystals.”

“She had a bunch of her own, but we’d given her some extra ones to charge for the Festival of Imbolc tomorrow night. We were all going to get together and cast some healing and vitality spells, so we needed some more juice. She said she had a spirit who owed her a favor and could get them all filled up, no trouble. Oh, shit.” Yep, that about summed it up.

“How many did she have?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Beth did a quick mental calculation before saying, “Twelve of her own, and about twenty-two from the rest of us.” Thirty-four super charged crystals plus a Book of Shadows with step-by-step instructions on how magic works.

Normally, a lay-person can’t cast magic. They simply don’t believe in it enough. We’re taught from a young age, sometimes too young, that magic is the stuff of fiction; entertaining, but nothing to put stock in. That lack of belief taints the energy reservoir inherent in everyone, to the point where it’s no longer viable for spell casting. They can’t even access the energy from other sources. It’s like trying to run a car on buttermilk instead of gasoline. It’s just not compatible.

That’s why most witches come from long lines of other witches. Then, instead of being told that magic is B.S., we’re taught that magic is a tangible force and as real as the noses on our faces. This makes the energy we hold and can use pure and volatile, magically speaking.

But, suppose a normal, everyday, hardworking person got wind that magic was real. Now, they might dismiss it out of hand, usually with a hearty laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the kernel would still be there. And it would grow, day in and day out, until finally, disbelief had been replaced with certainty. There was magic in the world, and they wanted it.

The only problem was, they had no idea how to do it themselves. They can find plenty of spells and ceremonies online (thank you, Google), but everything they try just falls flat. They still don’t have the juice. It takes years of training and discipline to be able to properly utilize your own energy, but their suspended belief means they can access the energy around them. And here comes Nichole Barret, a witch with a particularly detailed Book of Shadows and enough charged crystals to empower just about any spell they could possibly want. That’s a motivation for murder.

And, if I was right, it meant that somewhere out there was a killer who was just dying to show off their new abilities. This was going to get bad.

CHAPTER EIGHT

With the interview concluded, and me with a new reason to catch this murderer on the quick and quiet, Beth offered to help treat the wounds I’d sustained from Trisha and the Things. My right arm was beginning to throb and the rest of my body didn’t feel much better, so I gratefully agreed. While she dug out everything she’d need from a small chest in the other corner, I plotted my next move.

I suppose I needed to check in with Bill, see if he’d turned up anything at the auto detailers. If he hadn’t, I could see what Charley and his boys found in forensics.

Beth reappeared with a lit purple candle, an ornate bowl filled with dried herbs, and a glimmering, purple amethyst. From the way the stone’s subtle vibrations tickled my magical senses, I could tell it was charged and ready for use.

Amethysts are the be-all, end-all of healing crystals. The energy they put out harmonizes with the natural frequency of the body, causing pain to subside and injuries to heal in record time.

After taking a moment to raise her own power, Beth ignited the herbs with the candle, then used the amethyst to waft the sweet-smelling smoke over my body. There was no incantation needed. The properties of all these things were specifically geared towards healing; no need to focus them further.

After a few moments, a delicious warmth began spreading over my body, smothering the aches and twinges that made me cringe with every movement. Slowly, they sunk inward, until it felt like I was relaxing in a luxurious pool, with the jets massaging my tense muscles and I closed my eyes with relief. I floated in that space for a few minutes while Beth directed the flowing energies with nothing more than a whispered word. I could almost feel the stress, pain and worry drain away under the calming effect of her healing craft.

Finally, it was over and I opened my eyes. Beth began putting away her things. The amethyst she left out, probably to charge under the next full moon.

I stretched experimentally, and sighed contentedly when no shooting pains sliced their way through my body. My injured arm didn’t even click anymore, although I was still sore in many places. But it was a damn sight better than it had been and I gratefully smiled at Beth.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. She smiled back sadly.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do for the one who’s trying to get justice for Nichole.”

“I promise you like I promised her; I’ll do everything I can.”

“Is there anything I or