Bell(e)s in the Woods - 5. Wednesday, April 23, 2025 (II)

~The Cursebreaker~

The blood shield protecting the grounds of the Watermill Circle had a gentle deflecting - not to say deterring - effect on humans. Those who possessed magic usually felt the effect less, or could even see the red-gold shimmer and flicker if they were close enough. Since enough witches of my bloodline had given their blood for that very shield, I could not only see it, but actually touch it without getting an electric shock and an angry voice hissing ‘fuck off’ directly in my head. But I still couldn't go through it.

The magical alarm after touching it wasn't audible to me, but I knew it was there. I also knew that, thanks to the size of the protected area, it would be a while before anyone came.

“Hello, Dustin.” Or not.

Puzzled, I saw Phoebe appear on the path and raised my hand in greeting. "Good afternoon. I come in peace. And apparently I'm being watched."

Phoebe grinned, made a small gesture, waved me through the shield and then held her hand out to me. "Indeed, yes. We've had cameras in a few places for a while now."

“No shit.” I raised my brows in surprise and shook her hand; there was no point in looking for them.

"The Walburga had her doubts, but unfortunately these days it's too often ‘a photo or it didn't happen’. So we've upgraded."

“I see.”

Phoebe - small, petite, with a mouth too wide and artfully braided dark hair - scrutinized me, then nodded.

Matching her brisk steps, I followed her along the path winding between the pines and birches and oaks. The forest has ears, the witches say, and although the coven's traditional main longhouse offered considerably more and human ears, Phoebe was silent until we got there.

"Come in and be our guest, Cursebreaker. Your blood is part of us, we respect you." Unusually traditional words.

"Thank you, Witch Phoebe. I respect and honor your rites, your home, and offer my magic in exchange." There weren't really set words for it, but something along those lines was fine.

Smiling and gesturing invitingly, she stepped away from the door.

Entering the longhouse, I squinted into the dim light. The large area around the big open fire was a gathering place and the only part of the grounds normal visitors were allowed to enter, if they were invited in at all. Curtains separated the back areas, from which came quiet murmurs.

"Why don't you sit down? Would you like some tea?"

“Gladly, thank you.” There were small tables far enough away from the fire to avoid being roasted, but close enough not to freeze, and I sat down at the nearest one.

She took three clay cups from a shelf and filled them with tea from an old-fashioned pot, before setting them on a small tray and bringing them over. "Careful, still hot. Honey?"

“With pleasure.”

She brought a small honey jar and spoons and before I could ask who the third cup was for, she half nodded behind me. “Uma.”

Uma Montoya, known as the Pear, had been teaching when I was at nursing school, but now she was part of the background team at the MID. Her short, dark-dyed hair was spikily gelled, she always dressed in pale green and had a round center. Now she gave me a heartfelt smile. “Hello, Dustin.”

“Hi, Uma.” I smiled back. It was still weird not saying ‘Mrs. Montoya’ anymore. Then, though, my smile faded because I didn't know why she was here. She was a White Witch like Bridget, and more than that, a sort of right-hand woman to the Walburga. Although, as an outsider, I couldn't really tell, only the White Witches knew who their Walburga was, to protect the secrets and ancient knowledge of the coven. Uma or Bridget could actually be the Walburga without me ever knowing.

“You're right,” she said, sitting down next to me, “this isn't the time for pretty smiles.” She pulled a cup towards her and nodded at me encouragingly, so I took one too.

“I'm sure Maggie or Bridget have told you Kate isn't getting on well with Madeleine, haven't they?” Phoebe asked quietly and strangely gently, as if she was breaking terrible news to a small child.

“Yes, they did.” Rather to do anything at all, I took some honey and stirred it into my tea. Waiting, I looked at Phoebe, who in turn glanced at Uma.

“Kate is moderately strong, but she has a good instincts, a talent for potions and is inquisitive, even when it comes to niche topics,” Uma said with a respectful tilt of her head in Phoebe's direction, who nodded in agreement. “Madeleine, on the other hand, comes from an old witch family, powerful, really, and isn't much for details.” Uma wrinkled her nose. “She's more Team Brute Force.”

“Ouch,” I muttered. That kind of attitude usually didn't get you far, but most proponents of this type of art had to break their noses before they realized their mistake.

“Anyone who says Kate is arrogant hasn't met Madeleine,” Uma continued. “And I'd like to say the two of them have the usual arguments about who has the bigger lollipop, but that started almost as soon as they joined the coven eight years ago and it's gotten a bit out of hand in the last few weeks.”

Phoebe nodded; my cup, which I was about to bring to my mouth, paused in mid-air.

“Aaaaaaaand?” I finally said, finishing the movement; the sweetness of the honey couldn't compete with the bitter herbs.

“Well, we had to throw them both out, but you're aware of that,” Phoebe said, still decidedly quiet and holding her own cup as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “We specifically scheduled the talks for today at the same time because we wanted to have a talk all together afterwards.”

“Neither Kate showed up, nor Madeleine,” Uma added, pressing her lips together in a way expressing disapproval.

To stall for time, I took another sip. I didn't like what was implied in her words at all. “I guess Madeleine doesn't answer the phone...?”

“No.” Uma replied curtly.

No, that wasn't good at all. Again I sipped my tea. “What can you do if your student doesn't show up?” I wanted to know slowly, so as not to jump straight to the point of my concern.

“Not much,” Uma admitted hesitantly. "Call, sure, but she's an adult, so I'm not allowed to contact her parents until twenty-four hours have passed. And there chances are slim. Her parents are divorced and Madeleine lives alone, she doesn't want anything to do with her mother and her coven."

I nodded, sipping my tea again. “You can... you should probably contact Detective DeLaney,” I said then. “Their rivalry is well known, Kate is officially missing, and the chances of an illegal duel are probably not small.”

Now it was Uma who was drinking to stall for time, while Phoebe nodded with a pained face.

“Kate wouldn't suggest such a thing, but she'd agree.”

My eyes wandered to Uma and her pinched expression was answer enough for me.

~The Detective~

The air in the IT room was atrocious. The usual oxygen-starved mix of hot plastic and stale coffee got swirled rather than refreshed by the damp gusts coming through the half-open window.

Nico's workstation was empty, but the screens were on, the lid on his water bottle only half-heartedly screwed on.

Jonah nodded to me from his seat and I went over to him; Kate's laptop sat next to his keyboard, humming decrepit. “That girl is definitely not one of us,” he said first.

I snorted. “After everything I've heard about the time intensity of nursing schools and witch training, I'm not surprised.”

He gave me a wry grin before patting the laptop. "Ninety percent stuff from nursing school, some last high school stuff, a couple digital books on witchcraft. A folder full of landscape photos, one full of memes."

“What kind?”

"Pretty generic. The stuff you can slap randomly in response to anything." A shrug.

“And other than that?”

Another shrug. "Instagram and Tumblr are just for aesthetics, she follows photographers and artists, leaves a few likes, but nothing more. She's active in a few subs on Reddit, cooking, baking, witch stuff."

“It's not much.”

"That's what I said. She's got WhatsApp on her laptop too, but there's absolutely nothing exciting in there. Online search history for her browsers is limited to research for school or witchy things."

“Thanks.” Nodding, I chewed on my bottom lip. The search of Kate's room hadn't turned up anything at all, especially since no one else knew the room and could have told if anything was different. No second set of car keys had turned up either.

In a rather pessimistic mood, my expectations regarding any possible findings about Michael Bell were also very limited, but Jonah had still to get to that. Not to mention the hope that Kate would turn up in the middle of nowhere (aka coven grounds) without a car, contrary to expectations of certain witches. I was just about to say something along those lines when Nico breezed in.

He didn't look like he was ill, but what did I know. He casually dropped into his chair after a nod in my direction, but his expression was more of a frown. "Have you heard? We're down one detective."

“Derrick?”

Nico nodded. “Extended leave for health reasons.”

“I thought he was through with his diagnosis,” Jonah remarked in surprise - I had thought so too.

“Nah, more like they know now what it isn't.”

“Poor guy,” I muttered, because Derrick was a good man. "Who's Foxx getting as a temporary partner? Has that been decided yet?"

“Probably Melvin Merriman.” Jonah replied with an exaggeratedly thoughtful face when Nico shrugged.

"Did he pass the detective exam? Warren mentioned yesterday Melvin hadn't said anything yet."

“Then it's more likely a no, or the results haven't come through yet.” A wry smile flitted across Nico's face. “Do you want me to look in the personnel file?”

“Don't.” Across the distance, I hinted at a scolding pat to the head; it was forbidden and Nico wasn't going to ignore it, we both knew it, but jokes like that were dangerous.

The two men laughed, but I just wasn't in the right mood for it. When my phone rang and I read Dust's name, everything inside me clenched.

“How about some good news?” I greeted and he huffed.

“Depends on how you take it.” The wind howling into his microphone made it hard to understand him, something creaked and rustled.

“Don't let me pull everything out of your nose,” I pleaded, putting him on speaker as Nico raised his brows high and higher.

“Kate didn't show up for her talk with Phoebe, of course,” Dust replied, sounding strangely tense. “But neither did Madeleine.”

“Who was Madeleine again?” Jonah chirped in.

"Her witch rival. The two of them have been fighting for years about - and I quote - who has the bigger lollipop."

Jonah giggled supressed.

“Wait.” I stared at the small black screen in my hand. "Wait, what do you mean. Madeleine didn't show up either?"

“No. They were supposed to talk to their respective mentors at the same time and then together as a group afterwards.” A car door slammed and finally there was silence in the background. "As for Kate, everyone was forewarned, but Madeleine didn't show up either, her phone is off. The two mentors wouldn't say it explicitly cause it put them in trouble too, but I'm afraid the two of them have met up for an illegal duel. Somewhere in the woods, I suppose."

“Damn.” Nico muttered as a “fuck!” escaped me.

“But apparently no one is missing Madeleine yet.” Jonah shrugged nonchalantly as I gave him a somber glare.

"Maybe, but - shit. How sure are you, Dust?"

“I'm certainly not going to give you a percentage, but I think that scenario is more likely than some petty criminal kidnapping Kate.”

“Damn...” I rubbed my face and shivered as a particularly strong gust blew in. My thoughts tumbled around.

Nico rose and closed the window.

"Winter turned down a search in the woods this morning, but now... God, this area is huge. Dust, where do we even start?"

"If Madeleine has a car, then with looking for that. Maybe it's somewhere at the edge of the forest. A place like the old training ground would be reasonable, but then Kate would have to have trudged through the whole forest." He paused. "Eh, and it's starting to rain again. According to the weather forecast, there's supposed to be a storm tonight."

“I'm sure Winter won't change her mind then,” muttered Nico gloomily. "Too risky."

“Not even when two lives are at stake?” asked Jonah skeptically.

“You know,” Dust said slowly, "duels between witches or mages in general follow rules. Magic is deadly. They're both in their early twenties, and at that age, I'd honestly trust only battlemages to know what they're doing."

The rain pattered loudly on Dust's rover and loud enough against the room's window to drown out the hum of all the technology.

Rubbing my eyes, I shook my head. "It's Wednesday early evening. If we go with the duel theory, they met Monday morning or noon. Neither of them called for help or anything like that." I looked to Jonah. “Either one killed the other and went into hiding, or we're looking for two bodies now.”