How to Stone a Crow (Witch Like a Boss Book 2) by Willow Mason (great novels txt) đź“•
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- Author: Willow Mason
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“That’s not what magic is for,” Hadyn said, swivelling around and waving her off the table. “It’s for casting spells to ensure right triumphs over wrong.”
“Which is why I’m still trying to clean dishes and get the washing done.”
He laughed, standing back as I set to work clearing up my mess again. “That’s to improve your fine motor skills. You don’t crack an egg with a sledgehammer.”
“I did want to ask your advice about something,” I said, finally chucking the last of the mess into the bin. “It’s for a case we’re working on.”
“You and Annalisa?”
<Her and Patrick.> Annalisa stretched out to her full length, splaying her toes far apart. <Do you think working with a human partner all the time is the reason she’s so bad at this?>
“Possibly.”
“Hey! You just said I wasn’t as bad as I thought I was.”
The panther sniggered and moved to the window, a bird outside capturing her attention.
“What’s the problem?”
I ran through a quick list of Pru’s plight, and the brick wall we’d run into with the investigation. “Unless we can solve his murder, I don’t think he’s going anywhere soon.”
Hadyn rubbed his cheek and frowned at the whiteboard. “It’s true that poltergeists don’t appear for no reason but are you sure that’s what prompted his sudden change? Fifteen years is a long time to go without caring about how you died.”
“What could be other reasons? I checked out the library but it’s short on the whys.”
“Have you checked his grave? Disturbances to the physical body are the most likely reason.”
I shrugged. “A few clumps of grass pulled loose and a bouquet reduced to its petals. There’s no way to even tell if Andrew did it. Could just be schoolkids on a lark.” With an impatient flick of my head, I sat back in my chair.
“Get up. Class is over and I don’t want you settling in for the long haul. I’m a magic instructor, not a poltergeist whisperer. Those few pearls of wisdom were all I had.”
<They weren’t enough.>
“Are there potions available to generate leads? How do most supernatural investigators track down their villains?”
“A question you probably should’ve thought of before going into business. Go ask the supreme. That’s what Genevieve is there for.”
“What about a truth serum? We could apply it to Solomon to see if he lied to us.”
The shock on Hadyn’s face told me that was probably a bad idea. “You can’t just fiddle around with people’s consciousness like that unless you want the governing coven to sanction the entire town.” He put a hand on one hip and tilted his head to the side. “What makes you so sure he had something to do with it?”
I rubbed my stomach. “Gut instinct.”
<Is that the same as a dearth of other viable suspects?>
Ignoring Annalisa, I tried to put my suspicions into order. “His workmate Clarissa told us he liked to play pranks and they were both up for the same promotion.”
<Which she also told us he wasn’t even trying to get. Not properly.>
“A prank isn’t the same as cold-blooded murder. You know that, right?”
“Maybe it wasn’t cold-blooded. Maybe it was more like manslaughter.”
Hadyn held up a hand. “You can’t have it both ways. If Andrew transformed from a passive echo into an outraged poltergeist because of his murder, then surely it’s something heinous, not an accident.”
<A heinous accident.>
“Or an embarrassing one.” I chewed on my thumbnail for a while as Hadyn grew more impatient, probably picturing getting home after a day spent in the company of novice witches. “What about a chemistry spell? Patrick suggested he could have been poisoned but the police won’t have any blood samples left to test.”
“Chemistry I can do.” My teacher jotted down a quick recipe and tore off the page. As I grabbed for it, he lifted it out of my reach. “This is only for legitimate purposes. If I hear about you digging him up to test him using this potion, I’ll report you to the governors myself.”
My resulting pale face told him more than any assurances would.
“Now get out of here. Some of us have classes to prep and ingredients to stock.”
Chapter Eleven
After tea, I pulled out Hadyn’s spell and cast my eyes over the requirements. The containers Aunt Florentine had dropped off had most of the needed items, but I still had to source willow bark and cow froth, whatever that was.
“Willow bark is just aspirin,” Jared said, sniffing the ingredients with suspicion. “You can toss a few tablets in, no problem.”
“Precision is key,” I said, rabbiting an earlier lesson. “Just because they both work on headaches doesn’t mean they’ll both work on… on whatever I find to test.”
That was still the main hurdle to putting the potion into practice. I could hardly drop a piece of Andrew into it and breaking into the police station to see if they—against all odds—still had a blood sample didn’t sound like fun.
“How have you managed to use up all the willow bark already?” my aunt demanded when I phoned her to see where a witch could pick up such things. “There was a full cupful.”
She was so adamant I had Patrick double check in case I was going crazy. Assured that it wasn’t just me, I relayed the information down the phone.
“I’ll bring it around now.” She ticked her tongue a few times, then added, “And the cow froth isn’t what you think it is. It’s plant-based for a start.”
On arrival, her first action was to check the Tupperware thoroughly herself. Her second was to fold her arms and fix me with a steely gaze.
“I know what I brought over here. Now, tell me the truth. If you’ve had an accident, it’s okay, but you need to be honest with me.”
Holding my hands up, I shook my head. “I swear, I haven’t even had a chance to look at most of the stuff
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