Dime Store Magic
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Chapter 14
Fox in the Henhouse
I GOT TO THE MEETING ROOM DOOR AS CORTEZ STARTED TO SPEAK.
"Ladies," he said. "I apologize for interrupting your meeting."
A collective gasp drowned him out as eighteen witches realized they had a sorcerer in their midst. And what did they do? Hex him? Cast repelling spells? To my embarrassment-to my shame-they drew back, gasping and chattering, like a bunch of chickens seeing a fox in the henhouse. Witches in their prime, witches with fifty years of spell-casting experience, cowering before a twenty-five-year-old sorcerer. Only Savannah stayed where she was, perched on the pastry table.
"You again?" she said. "You don't take a hint, do you?"
"He's-" Therese stammered. "He's a-"
"A sorcerer," Savannah said. "Get over it."
"Lucas Cortez," he said, striding to the front of the room. "As you know, Paige is undergoing a custody challenge and, as a result, has now been implicated in a murder investigation. In order to prevent further legal proceedings and protect Paige's reputation, there are several actions I will require from each of you."
At this point, I could have jumped in and explained that he wasn't my lawyer. But I didn't. I was still smarting from the Coven's rejection. Maybe if they thought I was forced to accept outside help-from a sorcerer, no less-they'd change their minds. And maybe, yes, maybe a small part of me liked watching the Elders squirm.
Cortez hefted his satchel onto the front table. "I don't suppose you have access to an overhead projector."
No one answered. No one even moved. Savannah jumped off the table, crossed the room, handed him a marker, and pointed to the flip-chart. Then she sauntered back to the pastry table, grinning, and winked at me before resuming her perch.
I'd have to speak to Savannah about taking pleasure in the discomfort of others. Still, it was kind of funny, Cortez standing up there, writing down his list, explaining each point, so serious and intent, as the Coven sat and gawked, each one of them hearing nothing but the endless loop of an internal voice, repeating "A sorcerer? Is that really a sorcerer?"
"Are there any questions?" Cortez said after his presentation.
Silence.
Eleven-year-old Megan, the youngest neophyte, raised her hand. "Are you a bad sorcerer?"
"I lack some proficiency in the higher-order spells but, at the risk of sounding overconfident, I must say there are worse sorcerers."
I sputtered a laugh, covering it with a cough.
"Mr. Cortez is right," Abby said. "We all need to come together and help Paige in any way we can."
Silence.
"And on that note," I muttered under my breath.
"Cortez," murmured Sophie Moss who, at ninety-three, was the oldestwitch in the Coven and fast succumbing to Alzheimer's. "I knew a Cortez once. Benicio Cortez. Back in '72, no, '79. The Miami affair. Horrible-" She stopped, blinked, frowned, then looked at Cortez. "Who are you, boy? This is a private meeting."
On that fitting note of mental acuity, the meeting ended.
After the meeting adjourned, Savannah walked over to Cortez as every other witch practically tripped over her own feet getting as far from him as possible. I was heading to the front of the room to join Savannah and Cortez when the Elders waylaid me.
"Now I have seen everything," Victoria said. "Your mother must be rolling in her grave. Hiring a sorcerer-"
"I haven't hired him," I said. "But I have to admit, I'm considering it. At least someone is offering to help me."
"A sorcerer, Paige?" Margaret said. "Really, I can't help but wonder if you're doing this to spite us. Even speaking to a sorcerer is against Coven policy, and you've obviously been doing that." She glanced toward the front of the room, where Savannah was chatting with Cortez. "And allowing my niece to do the same."
"Only because your niece is getting zero help from her aunt," I said.
Therese motioned for me to lower my voice. I didn't.
"Yes, I've talked to him. Why? Because he is the only person who's offered to help me. He got me out of jail today. You three couldn't even bother sending Margaret to the police station to make sure Savannah was safe. You guys don't seem to get it. You know I'm not the type who likes to ask for help, but I'm asking now."
"You don't need a sorcerer."
"No, I need my Coven."
"Get rid of the sorcerer," Victoria said.
"And then you'll help me?"
"I'm not making a deal," she said. "I'm giving an order. Get rid of him. Now."
With that, she turned and left, the other two trailing in her wake.
Cortez materialized at my shoulder.
"Perhaps you'd care to reconsider my offer?" he murmured.
I saw the Elders watching us. Victoria's glare ordered me to get rid of Cortez. The urge to flip her the finger was almost overwhelming. Instead, I did the figurative equivalent.
"You're right," I said to Cortez, voice raised. "We should talk. Savannah, come on. We're going."
I motioned for Cortez to lead the way.
We drove to Starbucks in Belham-taking separate cars, of course. After I'd parked, Cortez took the spot in front of me and still managed to be standing beside my door before I pulled my keys from the ignition. He didn't try to open the door for me but, once I pushed it open, he held it steady while I got out of the car.
Fox in the Henhouse
I GOT TO THE MEETING ROOM DOOR AS CORTEZ STARTED TO SPEAK.
"Ladies," he said. "I apologize for interrupting your meeting."
A collective gasp drowned him out as eighteen witches realized they had a sorcerer in their midst. And what did they do? Hex him? Cast repelling spells? To my embarrassment-to my shame-they drew back, gasping and chattering, like a bunch of chickens seeing a fox in the henhouse. Witches in their prime, witches with fifty years of spell-casting experience, cowering before a twenty-five-year-old sorcerer. Only Savannah stayed where she was, perched on the pastry table.
"You again?" she said. "You don't take a hint, do you?"
"He's-" Therese stammered. "He's a-"
"A sorcerer," Savannah said. "Get over it."
"Lucas Cortez," he said, striding to the front of the room. "As you know, Paige is undergoing a custody challenge and, as a result, has now been implicated in a murder investigation. In order to prevent further legal proceedings and protect Paige's reputation, there are several actions I will require from each of you."
At this point, I could have jumped in and explained that he wasn't my lawyer. But I didn't. I was still smarting from the Coven's rejection. Maybe if they thought I was forced to accept outside help-from a sorcerer, no less-they'd change their minds. And maybe, yes, maybe a small part of me liked watching the Elders squirm.
Cortez hefted his satchel onto the front table. "I don't suppose you have access to an overhead projector."
No one answered. No one even moved. Savannah jumped off the table, crossed the room, handed him a marker, and pointed to the flip-chart. Then she sauntered back to the pastry table, grinning, and winked at me before resuming her perch.
I'd have to speak to Savannah about taking pleasure in the discomfort of others. Still, it was kind of funny, Cortez standing up there, writing down his list, explaining each point, so serious and intent, as the Coven sat and gawked, each one of them hearing nothing but the endless loop of an internal voice, repeating "A sorcerer? Is that really a sorcerer?"
"Are there any questions?" Cortez said after his presentation.
Silence.
Eleven-year-old Megan, the youngest neophyte, raised her hand. "Are you a bad sorcerer?"
"I lack some proficiency in the higher-order spells but, at the risk of sounding overconfident, I must say there are worse sorcerers."
I sputtered a laugh, covering it with a cough.
"Mr. Cortez is right," Abby said. "We all need to come together and help Paige in any way we can."
Silence.
"And on that note," I muttered under my breath.
"Cortez," murmured Sophie Moss who, at ninety-three, was the oldestwitch in the Coven and fast succumbing to Alzheimer's. "I knew a Cortez once. Benicio Cortez. Back in '72, no, '79. The Miami affair. Horrible-" She stopped, blinked, frowned, then looked at Cortez. "Who are you, boy? This is a private meeting."
On that fitting note of mental acuity, the meeting ended.
After the meeting adjourned, Savannah walked over to Cortez as every other witch practically tripped over her own feet getting as far from him as possible. I was heading to the front of the room to join Savannah and Cortez when the Elders waylaid me.
"Now I have seen everything," Victoria said. "Your mother must be rolling in her grave. Hiring a sorcerer-"
"I haven't hired him," I said. "But I have to admit, I'm considering it. At least someone is offering to help me."
"A sorcerer, Paige?" Margaret said. "Really, I can't help but wonder if you're doing this to spite us. Even speaking to a sorcerer is against Coven policy, and you've obviously been doing that." She glanced toward the front of the room, where Savannah was chatting with Cortez. "And allowing my niece to do the same."
"Only because your niece is getting zero help from her aunt," I said.
Therese motioned for me to lower my voice. I didn't.
"Yes, I've talked to him. Why? Because he is the only person who's offered to help me. He got me out of jail today. You three couldn't even bother sending Margaret to the police station to make sure Savannah was safe. You guys don't seem to get it. You know I'm not the type who likes to ask for help, but I'm asking now."
"You don't need a sorcerer."
"No, I need my Coven."
"Get rid of the sorcerer," Victoria said.
"And then you'll help me?"
"I'm not making a deal," she said. "I'm giving an order. Get rid of him. Now."
With that, she turned and left, the other two trailing in her wake.
Cortez materialized at my shoulder.
"Perhaps you'd care to reconsider my offer?" he murmured.
I saw the Elders watching us. Victoria's glare ordered me to get rid of Cortez. The urge to flip her the finger was almost overwhelming. Instead, I did the figurative equivalent.
"You're right," I said to Cortez, voice raised. "We should talk. Savannah, come on. We're going."
I motioned for Cortez to lead the way.
We drove to Starbucks in Belham-taking separate cars, of course. After I'd parked, Cortez took the spot in front of me and still managed to be standing beside my door before I pulled my keys from the ignition. He didn't try to open the door for me but, once I pushed it open, he held it steady while I got out of the car.
