Too Much Magic

By J. E. Andrews

In Too Much Magic, Pepper Paull, a good witch, lives alone with her familiar, an owl named Whittlesbee, and runs a small magic book shop. Most of her business is from other witches or those curious about magic and magicals. In Baltimore, as in most other cities, there is a full range of people, humans and magicals.
Magicals include werewolves, witches, vampires, elves and many others.
Pepper is the last of the Hesperus witches, a powerful family of good witches out of the Hidden. With many attempts on her life, illegal retribution, she’s grown used to uncertainty and danger. So she lives quietly, drawing no attention to herself while helping those who cross her path. Her one passion and pursuit is the learning of magic.
Then a mysterious cloaked figure sends Pepper to a secret auction to buy an infamous book that had once been deliberately lost in the sea.
There are others who want the book and others who want the book along with the witch who can interpret and use the magic within.
This one book propels Pepper onto a path she might have preferred avoiding. Pepper is not one to turn from a challenge, but can she maintain the integrity that is a fundamental of her life, while fighting for her freedom? Is it destiny that rips her from her quiet life or something more random? As the last of her line is she the jewel her forebears hope for?
The ghosts who have trained her from childhood now hint at Purpose.
When a young werewolf girl comes into her life, needing her help, she is caught up in the conflict. With them is a Lawyer, a Huntsman from Hell and a guy named Mike...
Pepper’s life will never be the same.
This is Book 1 of The Merged Worlds series

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. E. Andrews
• Release date: Jul 5, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476096407

J. E. Andrews

Born and raised in and around Baltimore, Maryland.(I started the year the Orioles moved there) I started reading at an average age, then I found fiction - Ghost stories - and my imagination kicked into gear. Between reading science fiction, fantasy, comic books, detective stories, westerns and other tall tales I didn't have much time for writing. But in those spare moments when the dreamer held rein... I considered what might go on paper.During a busy life I met all kinds of interesting people and have seen some interesting situations, both fun and tragic. What that richness has given me, (besides two wonderful daughters) is a wealth of information to create characters who enjoy telling the stories they're in.I've created worlds, universes and tales in stacks of notebooks (yes, I write with a pen) that I enjoy and I hope others will as well. It takes time and effort to write but I find it takes nearly as much to get my stories to the epub stage.This isn't much of a profile or bio, I suppose, but I hope you find more enjoyment in my stories. It's always more fun to read the story than look to see who's behind the curtain making it up...

Book preview

In speaking of the Merged Worlds it is necessary to note historians and theologians have disparate beliefs on when the four realms began to merge. While they have not, even now, become a single world, they are overlapping and inextricably entwined.

Heaven, Hell, Earth, and the Hidden have always had some connection. Scholars agree only that the Earth is limited to its physical form. With the vastness of space even that will give way in time.

For no known reason the original rare contact between the worlds became more frequent as the barriers diminished and the Reveals began. Earth was the center of this confluence.

Most obvious were the Magicals in early Reveals… werewolves, witches, elves, and the many classes of fairies. With them, not so obvious, were vampires, wizards, and sorcerers.

Of course not all Magicals came from the Hidden.

From Hell came various classes of demonkin; the hybrid offspring of demons can tolerate the light and are therefore able to live among men. With greater realms to explore, the types and number of demonkin grew. Many found life on Earth a pleasant difference. As with the Reveals of the Hidden on Earth, so were Reveals of Hell, figures such as Huntsmen with their Hellhounds which had rarely been seen, traveled it more readily.

Heaven is as integrated as the other realms yet the Reveals of those inhabitants are rarely documented. They move among us performing duties we have little understanding of. More and more they appear engaged in the Great War, as Magic tries to balance with the Mundane, and the Law seeks equality.

While Magic, like a living thing, seeks expression…

Prologue

After the apparition vanished from her kitchen, Pepper shook her head.

She held no doubt of what the strangely cloaked elf had informed her. It rang true.

The only question Pepper struggled with was why this elf visited… also, how did she breach her security to port directly into her apartment? She knew better, so why did she believe this elf? Pepper had many more questions than at first. There was the familiarity of the elf as well, how did that come about?

Pepper knew no elves so intimately, nor did she trust any.

Taking a breath, the witch vanished from her cozy kitchen. An instant later she was in the old warehouse district near the port of Boston. She was carrying her satchel beneath a dark cloak, gathered when she ported. It was a familiar location.

Fog obscured her destination. Arriving in the center of a cobbled alley, she scanned the area. The damp air carried the fragrance of the waterfront, mixed with the dank scent of age. Rotted pilings, mold, bird droppings, oil, and dozens of harmless scents flavored the heavy air. Beyond these earthly traces were other, less innocent sign.

A web of magic, layers upon layers, wove through the alley. It touched the cobbles and lifted high above the building before her. The magic permeated the fog, owning it, holding it thick and slowly shifting. Various frequencies of magic crossed the warp and woof of this permeable barrier.

Pepper didn't bother taking more than a quick assessment, enough to know it was no threat.

It acted as a barrier to those less adept, turning them aside from lingering. Functioning as an alarm, it had reported her arrival.

Security personnel stepped forward from the shadows. Others, hidden, went on alert. There were six demonkin, armed and armored, moving toward her. Several protective charms shone upon each. Six more demonkin guards remained near the auction house. They were watching to all sides, as well as watching her.

Peppers arrival had been precipitous, causing some alarm. She walked toward the entrance. She had no worry for the guards. The lights at the entry showed more brilliance as the fog diminished beneath the portico.

A wizard exited the building, advancing quickly.

Ms. Paull, he said, giving a bow, showing sharp teeth in greeting. "Welcome. It's so nice to see you. I had no idea… Uhm… won't you please come in?"

Thank you, Pepper said.

A pair of the guards had moved nearer.

"Ms. Paull, how did you… uhm… It's good you're here."

Pepper studied the wizard as they headed toward the building.

Mr. Everest, Pepper said, maintaining the friendliness he assumed. You know of my interest in books… especially rare books of magic. I'm disappointed you failed to contact me yourself. I thought we had a good relationship. It seems I'm not the favored customer you profess.

Everest ushered her through the door. A powerful barrier spell allowed entrance.

I'm truly sorry, Ms. Paull, he said, lowering his voice to a murmur. I was forbidden contacting anyone of your reputation.

My… reputation? Pepper said, as quietly.

Extending her awareness at the unusual manner of the manager, she listened.

"Yes, no one who champions good was contacted. It was a bit disconcerting. There's someone big behind… uhm… this… I thought it was simply another book, Ms. Pepper. It appears there is much more involved."

"I hardly think you would be inclined to choose good, Mr. Everest, Pepper said. Your personal ethics have never offered a…"

The wizard held up his hand, quieting her comment.

I hate to say it, but as powerful as this book appears, I'd rather trust it in your hands than any of those invited.

That's a rather backhanded endorsement, wizard, Pepper said, studying him, again.

You do have a reputation, as I've said.

With that, the wizard turned to one of the inner doors.

Contrary to the exterior of the building, which looked like a decrepit warehouse, the interior was old-fashioned and posh. The walls were paneled in oak and mahogany. It was decorated in paintings of fashionable elegance, scenes of Heaven, Hell, Earth, and Hidden locations. Each representation was by master artisans of various species.

Pepper ignored the opulence, as she always did.

Good fortune, he said, opening the inner door.

Pepper was already looking ahead, familiar with the auction house. This room could seat a hundred people. It was usually full for the auctions Pepper attended. There were only a dozen people present, spread through the room.

Everyone observed her entrance.

The auctioneer looked chagrined, though said nothing. A number of demonkin guards, as well as several wizard guards, took her measure, keeping their distance.

A handful of participants tried to take her measure, testing her shields and barriers. They sought some identification.

Although she had a reputation, she was not readily identified. Her personal profile was consistently low and secretive. Pepper had a number of hunters seeking her.

She rarely left a footprint in public.

This was an exception. She hoped it worthwhile.

For her part, Pepper measured each bidder at a glance, even the demoness disguised as a human. There were a number of witches, wizards, and an elf. Every one of them was a class five adept or greater. The demoness was the only Pepper could not gauge. She chose a seat near the front but aside from others.

Only a class five adept or greater could enter this room. Therefore only a class five could bid. Their guards were the only exceptions.

Those of you arriving on time had occasion to examine the item up for auction now, the auctioneer said. He avoided looking to Pepper, though his comment sought to rebuke her. We have no documentation on the provenance of this item.

Turning her attention to the item, Pepper released her hold on time. Immediately, she perceived the magic around her with greater clarity. Without time moving in its normal manner, magic was all there was in motion. Standing, she approached the book the auctioneer pointed to. Her ability restricted nothing of her movements.

Magic, the force of it, was not constrained by time. The book did not leak magic. This didn't help Pepper determine what was in it. All she could do was study the bindings and seals on the book, seeing how they contained the magic. Each layer of protection showed a different weave. Her study yielded no clue of who constructed or designed the seals on it.

The most Pepper could deduce was an approximate age of the inner lock, fixing it to a particular era. This book was originally sealed when the worlds first began to merge. There was no measure of the time passed, only a mythic notation. Other bindings had been added over the ages. The most recent had a familiar touch, but Pepper couldn't place it.

This most recent seal was done prior to the book being brought to Earth from the Hidden. Thus it was marked in a way she could trace… eventually.

It was a mystery. Pepper loved books. She loved mysteries.

She wondered who the elf was who'd told her to come for the book.

After returning to her seat, she connected to time again.

The absolute silence of loosing herself from time was shattered by the normal sounds of the room. Pepper never thought of that silence while immersed.

"What we do know is this item was found by a Sedartas demon sometime after the Wishquake in '04. Whether it had been buried in the mountains or the sea makes no difference. The demon sold it to a wizard. At that time it was sealed in a silver casket.

The wizard couldn't open it and sold it to another. It likely changed hands a few times until someone managed to break the seal on the casket. This book was discovered within.

The auctioneer gestured to the book.

Where is the casket? someone asked.

Unknown, the man said. What must be revealed here is that four deaths have been attributed to this book. All of those occurred during attempts to open it.

This stirred Pepper's interest. It also roused her suspicions. Looking through the room, she again took note of the guards and wizards standing by. Someone was missing. With the potential of this book being deadly, even unopened, there should have been Watchers on the scene. Watchers were the magical overseers. They were often considered to be the magical police, protecting the mundane or weaker magicals from the powerful.

They should be here.

They would be at this auction if they knew of it.

Only the mysterious elf had given Pepper the knowledge.

There was a significant amount of mystery involved… and a book.

Pepper was thoroughly invested.

After settling final questions, the auctioneer, raised his gavel.

Bidding will start at one hundred thousand dollars, CSA.

Groans and complaints were voiced, pointing out those with limited funds.

At five thousand dollar increments, the bidding was up to three hundred thousand in quick order. Pepper had only bid once as it rose steadily. When it reached six hundred thousand only two were in competition, Pepper and the disguised demoness.

I have no limit, the demoness said, conversationally, in Pepper's direction.

Those watching with personal disappointment still enjoyed the game.

Nor have I, Pepper said, in matching tone.

Of what tribe are you? the demoness wondered.

Pepper glanced again at their audience. She frowned.

Hesperus, Pepper said, studying the demoness's reaction.

"Bah, said the demoness, standing abruptly. I concede. I warn you, Hesperus, you are laying claim to more than you know."

With those words, the woman vanished. It was a show of power to leave through the barriers shielding the place.

Sold, said the auctioneer with a quiet bang of his gavel. To buyer fifty-three, for seven hundred five thousand dollars.

Pepper felt eyes upon her as she agreed to the price. More eyes than only those present watched her.

Chapter 1

Pepper's owl, Whittlesbee, looked out the high window into the dark Baltimore night. There was little to see. The window overlooked the small concrete courtyard and the back alley… the blank backs of the opposite facing rowhomes. Few lights shone in the dark of night. The brick walls showed dark and darker. One distant streetlight succeeded in making the shadows deeper.

Whittlesbee turned back to his witch. From the shadows above the potion's cabinet, the great gray owl watched her study the ancient book. It was a recent addition to her ever-expanding library. His witch was the last of the ancient line of Hesperus witches. One of his duties was to keep her from losing track of the world, which she was apt to do whenever engrossed in her studies.

'You'll not get that tonight. You might as well stop now,' he said in a mental murmur only she could hear.

She ignored him.

Pepper mumbled the strange words, sounding them out, trying to get a feel for the language.

Magic pressed from all sides, tasting her intention of testing those words.

Pressing her lips closed, she avoided the temptation of making another attempt. She set her finger to her place. Interpretation defied her. She could wring no meaning from it. It was an odd form of the first arcana, the oldest magical alphabet devised. It was an alphabet she knew well. Even so, she failed to collect the meaning of this. Some twist kept it out of reach.

Everything about this section was suspicious. It was a preface, an obvious addition to the original book, magically bound. The later body of content was composed of three completely different arcana, combined with incredible complexity. Even as knowledgeable and experienced as she was, this was beyond anything she'd imagined. She glared at the book. It wasn't the first time she'd looked at these words. It wouldn't be the last.

'Give it up, Pepper, you're not going to get it tonight.'

Hush, Whitt, I'm busy.

Fluffing his wings, the owl knew better than to reply, she wouldn't be listening.

Pepper glanced over the page, while her finger remained stationary. It was hand written. She recognized the alphabet. It was the language which held her stymied. Not only was vocalization nearly impossible but the intention was indistinguishable.

It was a spell. The power was waiting to be released… vibrant, ready to burst.

She didn't know what the spell was for.

Casting any powerful spell without knowing its intention would be reckless and possibly deadly. While she frequently dealt with deadly things, she didn't consider herself reckless.

With her finger in place, she consulted a reference book, checking a symbol she wondered at. There were seven uses for it. Pepper had applied each to attempt coherent meaning. Some variance failed. Some meaning had escaped centuries of study by her family, for it was her family's reference books she used.

This one symbol, the way it was used, held the spell out of her reach. She needed to conquer this to begin the greater challenge of the book.

A whisper touched her mind.

It came from the open book.

It shivered in the ӕther, teasing her with words she almost recognized. There was a vague promise of danger, death, and disaster, if she could grasp the hidden knowledge.

Complex spells could take on a life of their own. Rarely would that include intelligence, but on such occasions the purpose, the intention of the spell, could imply communication. Harmonized with Pepper's magic, it whispered.

The promises were nothing, she hoped, it was the hint of knowledge which disturbed her.

The voice from the book didn't frighten her as much as it intrigued her.

Pepper had no doubt of her academic abilities.

The predawn light beyond the window outlined the neighboring buildings. The red brick edges of the Baltimore skyline were still black, blurry, and indistinct. Before those lines became crisp and sharp, she needed to be finished. The work wouldn't soon be completed, but for this night she had to stop.

'You've no time to try again,' Whittlesbee said.

Whittlesbee had been her companion for many years of her solitary life. Being a practicing witch, she owned and ran a bookshop where she also worked as a writer and interpreter of spells. The bookshop kept her in touch with the world… the little bit she dared.

With the book open, her finger holding things still, she made no response to either Whittlesbee or the odd voice.

Combing her hair back with her free hand she gave a sigh, forcing herself to stop. With a gray feather, she marked her spot. The blackened book ribbon held the feather in place. After making certain nothing would shift, she began pulling the pages over. She closed and locked the covers with the attached silver buckles and clasps. The ancient locks were as ingenious as the script within. Since she'd solved them earlier, she clicked them shut now, sealing the original bindings.

Her own binding waited. The locket was the strongest she'd ever crafted. Nothing could then escape the book. Once it was locked, she leaned back, taking a deep breath. She paid no heed to the easing of tension in the ӕther.

I don't like this, she said. Not one little bit.

'What, in particular, don't you like?' Whittlesbee said.

I've got to put it away, Whitt. I can't do anymore until I know more.

'What don't you know?'

Again she didn't answer. A glance out the window showed true dawn. The edges of the buildings were sharply defined. The sun would be up soon.

Thanks, Whittlesbee, Pepper said. I need some clue of how to decipher this.

'You've been at this too long,' the owl said. 'There's other work to do.'

Her soft laugh barely stirred the air.

You say that like you'll be doing something of it. It's your bedtime.

Lifting the rose-colored spectacles from the bridge of her nose, she frowned.

'Yes. You're right,' he said. 'Too bad you skipped your bedtime again.'

Waggling the safety glasses, she looked at the sealed book.

Whitt, you don't think it's possessed me, do you? she said.

'The book? No. I've sensed no magic getting loose since that first touch. No. This is your own obsessive compulsive behavior.'

As Pepper placed her glasses in their protective pouch, she turned to her owl, suspicion coloring her expression. She said nothing of it, though, knowing his argument and the television prophets he would quote to support his case. A touch of weariness held her from arguing.

Fluffing his wings stirred some dust. He likewise refrained from bantering, sensing her mood.

Pepper took up the book, it was heavier than its size suggested. It had been lighter, earlier.

'I don't like you using my feathers like that,' he said, changing subjects.

We've established magical transference doesn't work on your old feathers, she said. Why are you so grumpy?

'This doesn't seem right. Nothing of it. How did you even hear about the book? You just popped off to Boston, not a word to me and came back with it. Who told you? Why won't you tell me?'

There are some things that cannot be mentioned, you know that, she said. That's another thing I don't like about this book, Whitt, it's too important. The power I feel in it is... I don't know, I guess it's frightening. I'll have to lock it away for awhile, until I get... something… some kind of clue to go on.

'You know the origin of that…'

"The supposed origin, Pepper said. There's no proof it's of the Harbinger library."

'Okay. You believe it came from the Harbinger's library, whether you can prove it or not is moot. Using a technicality to gain possession was a little underhanded of you.'

Devious, you mean.

She grinned briefly, before kneeling.

Pepper opened the front panel of a large bookcase. After releasing a magic catch, she pulled a board up to reveal a simple but safe hidden space. There was nothing but the cold of a muting spell within. She slid the book in.

After pulling her hand out, she reached in again… there was no trace of the book.

'Devious?' Whittlesbee said. 'Pepper, you wouldn't know devious if it snuck up and bit your… ankle. You found a way to claim it and did, right out in the open and now everyone knows you've got it.'

After closing the shelf board down and sealing it, she returned a pile of books and boxes, concealing it all.

No one's interested in this book but me, Pepper said.

'That's not what you said before. Why were those other people there?' her owl said. 'A demoness, you said.'

You are so suspicious, she said. There were a dozen other books at auction. Only one other person said anything, tried to make a claim.

'You didn't have to use your lineage like that, though,' he said. 'You reminded the world the last of the Hesperus witches was interested in power.'

Pepper looked to Whittlesbee sharply.

"I am not interested in power."

'Then what is it? They know it holds powerful magic. They'll all think you know something more about what's in it, if only for the manner of you collecting it. Face it, Pepper, showing your face in public will send rumors stirring, whether you intended or not.'

Brushing off her knees, she stood, letting her long skirt settle. She shook dust from it. She didn't face her familiar, knowing some of what he said was true. She hadn't told Whittlesbee about the gray robed apparition of an elf, a phantasm who freely gave the directions she needed. The elf had spoken with such authority Pepper trusted her. There had been an uncommon familiarity about that elf, too.

Pepper had never known such a sensation. She rarely allowed strangers to so affect her.

She'd given Whittlesbee the barest details of that night. He'd managed to find more on his own… it had been nearly a month ago.

If he learned the information had come from an elf, she'd never hear the end.

Maybe she'd made a mistake by going so openly. The urgency of the elven apparition had compelled her to move immediately and... she had wanted the book. Her arrival at the auction had been timely, suspiciously timely.

They know no such thing, she muttered.

'They suspect it.'

Yes. Because that's what they would do, what they would want.

'Exactly,' he said, spreading his wings. 'They know you're doing this because it's exactly what they'd do. You can be very blind at times.'

It's been three weeks, she said. No one's said or done anything.

When Whittlesbee didn't return with the comment she felt in his mind, she faced him, her eyes again narrowed. The owl looked away, arranging his wings neatly.

What? What are you thinking? she said.

'You wouldn't like it.'

When has that ever stopped you?

Facing her, opening his beak, his chest puffed. She expected one of his annoying, sharp piercing cries. Instead he gave a soft hoot and turned his head away. Pepper reached up to him. She wasn't short, but wasn't really tall, Whittlesbee had chosen the perch because of this.

Tell me, Whitt.

She rubbed a talon.

Please.

'They could be waiting… biding their time.'

He didn't face her.

Waiting for what? she said.

His head turned. If the owl could have shown scorn or some expression of disdain he'd have done it then. It came through in the tone of his words.

'Waiting for you to break the secrets.'

Oh, she said and then blinked.

Oh, she repeated. You mean, they think I'll be able to figure this out.

The chirp he voiced was loud enough to force her back a step. There was a good bit of scorn in that, as well.

'Maybe,' he said. 'But the book would be more valuable if they had a witch who'd already deciphered it. One who'd already broken the locks, who'd risked the curses and possession and emerged on the last page with the knowledge… intact and unprotected.'

Pepper shook her head, mostly to displace the ringing in her ears.

I can protect myself.

'Please. Let's not go there.'

Folding her arms across her chest, she scowled, not looking at him.

I'll be careful… you know I can defend my…

Whittlesbee gave a derisive hoot.

'Don't say I didn't warn you.'

Still scowling, she tapped her foot.

Is that foreknowledge? she demanded.

'No. It's experience.'

I'm older than you. I've seen…

'Older in body, yes,' he said. 'I've done many turns of the wheel. My experience, my worldly knowledge is greater even than yours.'

Holding up a hand to stop him, she nodded.

Okay. I'll let it go, she said, with a shrug. I don't need to know what else is in it.

'For now,' he said. 'Once you figure how the three alphabets work together you'll be at it again.'

While she wanted to deny this assessment, she couldn't lie to her familiar. Pepper considered it unlikely she'd find a key to unlock the mystery. This book had flummoxed researchers for all of its history. Its origin was unknown. No book in her vast library held a hint of help. Without being prideful, she knew she was capable of deciphering it, if only she had a bit more of a… a what… a clue, a key, the secrets of the Merge and all the realms? And what if Whittlesbee was right? What if someone…? It would have to be someone powerful and…

The elf? Had that visitation been some trap. No, she had been safe. Who else…?

Hugging herself, she tried to turn her thoughts from the images his words conjured.

Who'd want it that badly? she said.

Dismissing the mage-light she'd used reduced the light by half. The single standing lamp barely lit the bookshelf and one of her chairs.

'You, for one,' he said.

No. I wouldn't steal it or kidnap someone to get what's in it. That would be wrong. It would stain my aura with wickedness.

'Sometimes you amaze me… not in a good way. Pep, no one can see those stains, they're only evident to you.'

Maybe the mundane world doesn't, but everyone in our world can see the truth. They can see a stained aura. I'd be counted among the wicked.

'There is no our world, their world. It is all one world and nobody notices such stains… no one but you. Very, very, very few have your sight. That's a part of the heritage that you, as I said, reminded everyone about.'

"The Hesperus witches were good witches, over three thousand years of heritage that you expect me to avoid… I am a good witch."

In a whispered flurry of wings Whittlesbee dropped from his perch and landed on the arm she raised. He moved to her shoulder.

'I'm not reminding you for that reason,' he said. 'They were the most powerful witches to come from the Hidden. They helped change the worlds, yes, you should be proud of that.'

But…?

As she stroked his chest feathers he shifted closer to her head, rubbing her hair.

'But the actions of the Hesperus, and other good lines of every type of magical, solidified the rift. Many wanted to remain Hidden.'

That's old news, Pepper said. This is the modern age. We live by the law and truth. Both the arcane and mundane exist by the same Law. Everyone has to exist in peace.

'I live in the hope that you'll see the real world some day.'

"I know some want to stay hidden… wanted to stay hidden, she said. They exacted their revenge ages ago. Maybe there are a few clans still harboring animosity toward those who ousted…"

'You,' he said. 'They harbor animosity toward you. No. It is anger and hatred. They'd kill you in a blink if they could get away with it.'

Who?

Whittlesbee ignored the taunt.

'You know perfectly well.'

She shook her head, knowing there were at least three clans who fit that bill, as well as particular curses following her.

'Stop that.'

Sorry.

Running her hands back through her hair, she maneuvered around him, attempting to comb it all back. As soon as she released it, it flowed free and full again, floating about in that curious light way she couldn't tame.

Who were you thinking of now? she wondered.

'How about the Vanderbosch clan?'

Vampires? I hadn't thought of vampires… hmm… I see your point, she said. Maybe I should stay inside all the time where it's safe. Forget I have a life.

'Face it, you don't have a life. And if you tried to have one you'd probably die,' he said. 'But staying inside would be wrong. Agoraphobia, no, you need to get out. But you have to be careful.'

Pepper laughed enough to twitch her shoulders.

You're the most paranoid owl I've ever known. Okay, forget that, since you know you're the only owl I know personally.

When she glanced over she found him looking down at her.

Sorry.

As she moved back to her desk, he rode her shoulder.

She tidied up the desktop.

He hooted softly.

'O C D.'

Neat and tidy… I know where things are. That's all.

He gave another hoot she thought of as a chuckle. He leaned forward to fall from her shoulder to fly back up to his perch. After watching him land, she went to the window and pulled the blinds. For a moment she stood there, straightening the wooden slats, fingering the dust.

I do have a life, she stated.

'Sure. Not even half a … You're right, you do have a life and it's a life you enjoy, sorry.'

Pepper pinched the meager amount of dust without turning. He'd been about to mention the less than half a coven she was with. He'd only stopped in an attempt to spare her feelings.

It was a sore subject.

A half coven was no such thing...

Few powerful witches wanted to be associated with her. It didn't matter that she was powerful and knowledgeable, it was the fact that she was good… historically good.

Half a coven was useless.

The fact she could see the depths of a person's aura at a glance didn't help. The faintest smudge of gray staining an aura was as obvious as darkest black. It made first impressions into last impressions more times than not, especially with witches who sensed her reaction while unaware of the reason.

The only witches with pure auras were beginners, fledglings who had barely learned to speak a spell or mix a potion. Such folk did not make a powerful coven.

Witches owned an affinity to magic, using spells and potions to focus their intention to move the magic. Shortcuts to increase power were often compromises of integrity, cheats that sullied the purity of a witch's aura. Most modern witches didn't care about personal integrity when it came to their magic, as long as they achieved their desire.

The fact her own aura was pure endeared her to no one. Perhaps it was true that others didn't read auras as well as she, but there was ӕtheric awareness.

'Sorry,' Whitt repeated.

No problem, Whittlesbee, she whispered. Maybe I need a nap.

'Sorry, darling, you're open for business in half an hour and you have to eat something.'

As she headed for the door, she paused to look at her blouse.

Was I wearing this yesterday? Pepper said.

'Since last night.'

Good.

***

Perched on a sturdy oak stool, at the wooden counter of her bookshop, Pepper studied an old spell. She'd stopped taking notes. Setting the pen aside, she lifted the safety glasses to rub her eyes, forcing a yawn away. She gathered the warmed mug of brew, for a sip before taking up the pen.

The hundred-year-old parchment held a healing spell for the use of mundane surgeons. It was intended to help sustain a patient during operations. It would slow the flow of blood while invigorating it. Translating from Tellemic into modern English, while maintaining efficacy, was proving to be a challenge. Not being a surgeon, she couldn't know how a minor alteration might affect the result. With a patient already in a life-threatening position, any imbalance could be deadly. Misuse of magic near the weakened life-force could have fatal results. She had to qualify a dozen variations. Therefore, she'd have to talk to her clients.

Translating such a spell was an expensive undertaking, annoying a corporate lawyer in the process was a bonus. She smiled, just slightly, knowing she'd have to annoy the woman again. The lawyer, a Ms. Rutledge, had disliked Pepper from the first and didn't mind showing it.

This bit of annoyance was justified retribution and would hardly harm the lawyer.

Pepper had insisted on meeting the client surgeons to ascertain their essences and to certify the undertaking. It was not an unusual request and completely legitimate.

A lawyer could hide a dozen lies and conceal a conspiracy with a few words on paper. Pepper had found the lawyer, though human, had stained her aura