Sasha opened the small bag, its symbols glimpsed in the dim light of morning. As she tugged the opening, a subtle “caw” came from within.
“Finder of things, small and great. Hear my plea for me to know. Spirit of flight and haven, I call forth my familiar raven.” Her words floated like mist in the air as the dust sprang from the small pouch. It coalesced on the sill before her. “Malik, I need your services. I was hoping you could find the two of them, hopefully together. And, please bring me word if they are using magic.”
The raven nodded, giving a caw as he turned to dust flying through the crack in the window as the woman opened it. She watched as he again returned to his form of her favorite friend. Seeing his dark silhouette racing against the morning sky, Sasha smiled, “you have served me for many years, friend. I could never turn you away.”
The witch seemed to be in thought, her eyes looking to the small pad she carried. It’s torn and worn cover showing its great use. “Now, what was his full name again?” Sasha said as she opened the tiny book. When she flipped through, the pages seemed endless and more numerous than a small book of its size should have. After nearly a minute, Sasha stopped and flipped back a few pages. The small marker was now visible as she opened it fully. The page now showing the knowledge she sought.
“Milano Enrique Linus Tribin Simmons. But he prefers Melts.” The witch smiled. “His owners must have thought it cute to name him with such a pedigree. But, of course, they didn’t realize that no animals are ever truly owned by humans.”
Her words seemed amusing as she reached over to her desk, taking a small piece of paper from a carved wooden box, its lid closed as she moved away—the wooden work seeming alive as it anticipated her actions. Next, the woman took a small pencil, its center filled with charcoal as she wrote.
She spelled out the cat’s name in full, along with Melts. And folded it neatly, she whispered words to the small piece. “My message sent; on air, you fly. Please be quick with your reply.” The small paper charring and, in a flash, turned to smoke. Then, as if drawn by unseen currents, it was whisked away toward the window, disappearing around the frame.
Sasha turned to see her reflection in the mirror, the white patches now much more prominent and something beneath the hair twitched as she wiggled her ears. The witch sighed, “they’re getting worse. I can deal with the hair color change, but the ears.”
The woman parted the hair, and beneath the fluffed mane now turning white as snow that she kept covering the small cats’ ears were noticeable.
“I should have never tried that spell with asking Wend.” The regret in her words filling the small room. She raised he top lip, “thank goodness my teeth hadn’t changed. It’d be much harder to hide them.”
Sasha turned to sit at her desk, and she flipped through the small book she carried. She stopped and read the words before concentrating.
“Form of a feline, I no longer need. Bring back the human and leave me freed.” The witches’ words filling the room like echoes all around, and the small cats’ ears shrank, the white patches as well, but, as the words faded and the spell finished, remnants of the white patches along each side of her head remained.
“I can’t believe this isn’t working. That should be the counterspell.” Sasha closed the book and placed her head down on the desk, “it was supposed to be a simple test. I can’t believe I cursed myself.”
It was a few minutes as Sasha read through the small book before she walked to the mirror again and inspected the spots where the ears had been. She saw nothing, the only evidence of them being there was the mottled white patches that showed where they had been. She pulled gently at the hair and its snowy white color before sighing. “I guess I’ll head into town and pick up some hair dye to touch up the spots a little later.” She then looked toward the window.
Sasha’s eyes gave a stare of remorse as she spoke, “Malik, I hope you find something for me today. I don’t know how long I can keep reversing the spell.”
* * *
Ron straightened his tie as he looked in the mirror. He had a job interview this morning and was already running late. Also, Linda needed help with the flat tire on her car. “At least it was in the driveway,” Ron muttered as she dragged his hand down the tie to flatten it against his shirt.
Linda was already at the shop. Although she was busy, the activity wasn’t enough to guarantee the profits needed to keep the store open. And Ron had not heard from the magazine for some time. In fact, he had not seen any recent payments from them either. So when he called to find out what was going on, he was only reaching voicemail. That fact added up to something he didn’t want to fathom, and that was that the company he was sending his articles to was possibly now out of business.
He and Linda relied on the additional income to offset the bookstore and keep it open. But, even with the recent success, they both noticed the slowing of customers now arriving at the shop. And the latest two months of the periodical he was working with had missed shipments. That and the missing payments lead Ron to believe that he would probably have to start a different line of work if they wanted to keep the shop.
Ron grabbed the small portfolio on the table by the door. He opened it to see his updated resume on top. Underneath were samples of articles he had worked on. But he chuckled as he looked at the email he had printed out from the company. What are you doing? This is a Warehouse job. They’re not going to be interested in ghosts or anything of the like. Although I still haven’t found any evidence that they even exist.
Ron closed the portfolio and looked in the mirror one more time before he opened the front door. The morning sun warmed his face as he walked to his truck. He opened the door and paused. Ron sided his eyes and turned to look toward the trees across the yard. For a moment, he stared and then shook his head as he climbed in. He heard himself muttering as he started the engine, “I don’t know why. It felt like someone was watching me.” As the truck Ron was driving headed out of sight, a single blackbird flew from the trees and followed.
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