The teenage fairy in Adair’s kitchen looked at us doubtfully when we entered without knocking. “Um, hi?” He asked.
He looked mid-teens, probably, so not the one I’d seen here last. Another one, which was a little surprising. Fairies didn’t usually have children too close in years to each other due to the amount of magic required to make them. On the other hand, Adair and Violet were pretty strong fairies, so maybe they had enough magic to make children more quickly.
“I’m Adair’s friend, Cyra, and this is Cassie,” I informed him. “We dropped in to say hello. Is he or Vi here? I couldn’t find him in the clinic.”
“Oh. No, they’re not. They went to some event at my sister’s school. It sounded dumb so I stayed here to work on homework.” He motioned to all the textbooks in front of him. “Final exams coming up,” he explained.
A sister, too? They really had had several children in close proximity to each other. That was pretty impressive for fairy magic levels.
“Should we wait?” Cassie asked me. “Or we could just go try to find the witches.”
I shook my head. “There are several covens in town, it’d be a lot easier to just ask them which one it is than run around and visit all of them.”
“Oh.” Cassie was still surprised sometimes by information about supernaturals, but then, she hadn’t lived here in Avenglade as long as I had. Or really at all.
The young fairy was watching us with interest. “It’ll probably be a couple of hours. You can hang out if you want – there’s food in the fridge, or you can watch a movie or something. Or wait – do you know anything about history? I’m terrible at history and we have a final exam coming up and that’s the only one I’m not sure about.”
Of course I knew about history, something he would likely be able to guess. I hadn’t exactly planned on tutoring a teenage fairy in history when I came here, but oh well, we had a couple hours to spend, I guess, might as well help him.
I shrugged and sat down, flipping through his book to figure out what he was studying before starting to go through the material with him while Cassie started wandering around, perusing the flowers and then the movies on the shelves. She eventually noticed one of her own TV shows and pulled it out curiously, apparently wanting to relive the memories.
The teenage fairy paused when she put the show on, his eyes narrowing as he went from the screen to her.
“Yes,” I informed him, “Cassie is Cassandra North. Do you need her to turn it down?”
“Oh, no, that’s fine.” He still seemed surprised. “I just didn’t realize – didn’t you die 20 years ago? I didn’t think ghosts lived that long.”
“Yep,” Cassie agreed without looking at him, “about that. We don’t know why, either, but we’re hoping to get some answers from that coven after your parents get back.”
“Huh.” He seemed thoughtful, then turned his attention back to me. “Thanks for helping with this, by the way,” he told me, looking a little embarrassed. “You don’t have to, you know.”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind going over the past.”
I guess, in a way, both Cassie and I were doing that at the moment – reliving moments in our past. Nostalgia for her, and to provide practical help for me.
By the time Adair and Violet got back with their daughter, who turned out to be in her late teens, the teenage fairy had finished his homework and had joined Cassie and me in watching some of her old TV shows. The other fairies all came in and paused when they saw us sitting on the couch, eating popcorn.
“Dad!” The teenage fairy called. “Cyra helped me with history, it was great, because she lived through it and you know, you have, too, why do you never help me with history? Also, look, Cassie!” He motioned to her, then to the screen. “She’s been telling us all sorts of behind-the-scenes stuff that went on. It’s pretty cool!”
Adair seemed amused as his son’s enthusiasm. “Cyra, Cassie – sorry we weren’t here, I wasn’t expecting you, but I’m glad Ren here kept you company. This is our daughter, Honey, by the way.”
I was guessing, based on the stuff she was carrying, that Honey had been involved in a dramatic production or something similar, but she set those down in a rush and came over to eagerly ask Cassie to repeat everything she told her younger brother because she wanted to know, too.
Somehow, instead of getting immediately to the question of the identity of the coven we needed, we ended up eating dinner with them, catching up with Adair while Cassie amused the younger fairies with stories about acting. Sometimes I knew she still missed it, but it was a career that was really hard to do as a ghost, so she’d accepted that that part of her life was over and found new things to enjoy instead.
I kind of admired her spirit that way. She wouldn’t let things break her, refused to give up when faced with difficult circumstances. If her path was blocked, she just found a new path, a new way up the mountain. Or she just entirely jumped off the mountain and ignored society’s expectations. It was refreshing, exhilarating to be with her.
Eventually, though, I remembered why we were there. “We actually came to ask about the coven back then,” I informed Adair and Violet as she started to serve dessert. “We were hoping they might have some answers and might be willing to tell Cassie, at least, since she was affected by what that witch did. We know,” I held up my hand to stop him before Adair started to speak, “that it’s unlikely they’ll actually tell us.”
“Still worth a shot,” Cassie put in. “And some of them probably helped murder me, so, you know, they kind of owe me some answers.”
“Of course, you do deserve some answers.” Violet began writing down an address. “But please try not to get in trouble?”
“We’re not going there to hurt or threaten them,” I reassured her. “I haven’t used offensive magic since, oh, well at least since the monarchies were still in place, and the magic Cassie has wouldn’t work well against a coven, anyway. We just want to talk to them. If they won’t talk, we leave, simple as that.”
Violet nodded, appeased, as she handed me the slip of paper. “They might not be as willing to let you walk away,” she warned.
“They’d be idiots if they tried to stop her,” their oldest son, who was now a young man instead of the mud-obsessed toddler he’d been when we first met him, pointed out. “No one in their right mind would attack a phoenix on purpose.”
That was true. Attacking – and even worse, killing – a phoenix was an instant death sentence. Not because it was illegal, that was just the way things were.
It was one of the reasons phoenix tried to stay out of fights. We didn’t jump into them if we could avoid it, but most people were smart enough to just let us leave if we didn’t want to fight. They knew the consequences and nothing was really worth that.
“Still, mention that I sent you, okay?” Violet suggested. “If they know that the council is aware you’re there and have sort of condoned your visit, they’ll be less likely to start anything. Sorrel’s right, it’d be stupid of them to try, but just to be safe. Maybe they’ll also be more willing to talk, but who knows? Witches have mixed feelings about the council most of the time.” She shrugged.
Cassie looked thoughtful by the time we left and got in our car. “Why don’t you use offensive magic? And why don’t people want to attack a phoenix?”
“Phoenix usually are considered to represent rebirth,” I said slowly, “but we can also represent destruction. A truly angry phoenix can cause more damage than a volcano erupting, and containing it can be…difficult, at best. Centuries ago, all existing phoenix took a vow of peace after one of our kind caused massive destruction to an entire region of the world, essentially reducing even the landscape to barren wilderness for decades, at least. It’s a magical vow, it means we literally cannot use offensive magic unless certain conditions are met. As long as those conditions are not met, magic prevents us from being able to cast offensive spells. It shouldn’t really affect us, though – apart from wartimes where there were reasons to want massive destructive power, phoenix don’t – and shouldn’t – use offensive magic.
“We can still use defensive magic freely, however. If attacked, we can defend ourselves, and that is enough. In fact, it is actually within our attackers’ best interest that our defensive magic does work against them, because otherwise,” I paused, “well, if we die, we are, of course, reborn, but our death in itself can be…catastrophic.”
Cassie looked like she wanted to follow up on that, but I was already pulling into the driveway of the coven’s house and we both turned our attention to the matter at hand.
I went up to the door and knocked firmly, Cassie at my side.
A witch poked her head out and frowned at us. “Um, we’re not buying anything.”
“Good, because I’m not selling anything. We’re here to speak to your coven master.”
She looked at me doubtfully, apparently struggling a bit to see Cassie – not one of the supernaturals good with seeing ghosts, then – and then shut the door in my face as she went to find the coven master.
Rude, but not out of character for a witch, especially the dark magic witches like this coven – they tended to be secretive and unfriendly, as if they were afraid that any supernatural who looked at them was out to steal their secrets.
I mean, we were kind of here to get secrets from them, so…maybe their paranoia was justified in this case?
After a long pause, another woman opened the door, this one taller, older, more refined. She cast quick, perceptive eyes over us.
“Yes? I am the coven master, Patricia. What do you need from me?”
I met her cold gaze, equally aloof. “We’re here about something that happened 20 years ago, with a witch named Denise. She murdered my friend here,” I motioned to Cassie, “and we never got an explanation as to the contract she created. Violet Woodson gave us your name as a potential contact – we were hoping you might have some answers for us.”
Patricia’s brows furrowed briefly before her face smoothed back into impassivity. “Ah, yes, Denise…I remember that. This isn’t a conversation for the porch, but I’m afraid we don’t allow outsiders within the coven proper and it’s quite late in the evening now. Would you be willing to meet us tomorrow in a neutral place? I can speak with the girls who knew Denise, make sure their memories are refreshed, that they’re willing to talk to you, and we can discuss this better then.”
I crossed my arms. This seemed too easy, that she was that willing to go along with our request, and the idea of meeting them at another place sounded like a trap, but…how would that even make sense? They couldn’t trap a ghost, and attacking me would be stupid. The coven master would know that, surely they couldn’t ignore reality.
“Very well,” I said after long consideration and a quick glance at Cassie to confirm she was okay with this plan. “We don’t want any trouble,” I added, “just some answers. I think after what happened to my friend, she deserves some answers, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of course,” Patricia’s smooth voice sounded almost too agreeable. “I’ll make sure the girls understand that, okay? I have an idea – we have a warehouse we use for practicing magic, it’s on the other side of town, but it’s secure and we can discuss this without concerns of humans overhearing.”
Again, it sounded way too like a possible trap, but traps were just not feasible for either Cassie or me, so again, I had to dismiss the idea – or simply ignore it.
After all, if we were walking into a trap, we would still walk out again. The witches, maybe not.
“Very well,” I agreed again, accepting the business card she gave me with the address scribbled on the back, only to take note of the address and hand her back the card. I wasn’t stupid enough to keep a piece of paper given by a witch on my person, and I could memorize the address quickly, so I wasn’t worried about that.
Cassie didn’t speak until we’d driven away and were several blocks from the coven house.
“Do you think they’ll really tell us?”
I considered for a moment, then shrugged. “It sounds a lot like a trap, but it’s also possible that’s just because witches tend to be secretive and make everything sound like traps even when they’re trying to be cooperative. Plus, well, witches don’t have spells that can contain you other than the contract, and that’s long past on that one, so if it does turn out to be a trap,” I leveled her with an intense stare, “I need you to promise me that you’ll just leave. Walk out of the building, go get Adair, I don’t care. But leave, get out of there.”
She frowned deeply. “And just leave you behind? I don’t think so! We’re in this together, how long is it going to take you to get that through your head?”
I shook my head. “It’s not about that, Cas, it’s about your own safety. I don’t want to risk that they have magic that could hurt you,” because witches did have magic that could hurt ghosts, unlike magic that could contain them – if they knew how to use it, that is. “And nothing can truly hurt me. Even if they killed me, I’ll just be reborn. It’s a lot safer for you to leave the building immediately, before they have a chance to do anything to you, and get Adair.”
In the off chance this went truly bad, Adair might even be able to prevent the fallout.
I really hoped I was being paranoid about this. They probably just wanted to talk in a private place, not their coven house, where humans wouldn’t overhear. That was reasonable, right? It was unlikely they truly would be trying to harm us. That would be unwise, given that they knew we were sent by Violet and, well, they should be easily able to recognize what I was.
It’s not like most species have burning red eyes.
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