Shanna Swendson - Don't Hex with Texas

“Hey, better safe than sorry,” I replied. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You were right to bring her in. It’s best not to take sudden unconsciousness lightly.”

Although the doctor had told Mom to make the boys wait on her, I knew exactly who’d be stuck with that thankless job. I could do paperwork at home or at the store, so we stopped by the store on the way home to let everyone know what the doctor had said and to pick up some things for me to work on. At home, I got Mom settled into her bed with some hot tea and a few magazines, but she stopped me before I could leave her room.

“You don’t really think I’m going crazy, do you, Katie?”

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Not any crazier than usual.”

“I swear, I did see all those things. It was almost like when we were in New York and it was so weird and wonderful. I just never expected to see anything like it here.”

“Maybe that trip made you better at seeing unusual things, so you notice them more now.”

She shook her head. “But then why didn’t I see these things until now?” With a nervous laugh, she added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if I am letting my imagination run wild. I mean, look at Mama. She’s not always entirely there, and I’m not sure she ever has been, what with all her talk about the old country and the wee folk, and all that. If I am crazy, I certainly come by it honestly. As they say, the nut doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”

It occurred to me right then that my grandmother might be magically immune. Owen had said that the trait was genetic. It would certainly explain a lot about some of the wild tales she told. She really might have seen wee folk and fairies. “I guess I’m doomed, then,” I told my mother.

“No, you’re my levelheaded one,” she said. “Who says the craziness is limited to women? It’ll be one of your brothers in your generation. You’re far too sane to take after your mother and grandmother.”

If only you knew, I thought as I left her room.

Sherri showed up in mid-afternoon, probably to avoid other work while also taking advantage of a kissing-up opportunity. I left her with Mom so I could head back into town. If Mom’s mysterious cloaked man had been going after money from the morning commuters at the courthouse, he’d surely be there for the afternoon rush, and I wanted to see it with my own eyes. Before I left the house, I went up to my bedroom and unlocked my jewelry box. I ignored the tinny song it played and the ballerina that twirled when I opened the lid while I retrieved the item I needed.

Owen had given me the locket for Christmas, but it wasn’t the sentimental value I needed at the moment. Rather than being a significant piece of relationship jewelry, it was a magical tool. It amplified the sensation of magic in use so that I had more to go on than an ambiguous tingling sensation. I clasped it around my neck and tucked it under my T-shirt before taking Mom’s car downtown.

I found a parking space at one corner of the courthouse that allowed me to watch two sides simultaneously. The only people I saw were ordinary county workers in suits or business-casual clothes. No statues moved, no one wore robes, and no one behaved at all oddly—other than me, of course. Sitting alone in a vehicle in front of the courthouse for no apparent reason wasn’t exactly a normal way to spend the afternoon.

I was beginning to wish I’d stopped by the Dairy Queen for a malt on my way over when I saw something that made me do a double take. If I wasn’t mistaken, one of the Art Deco relief sculptures of a buffalo on the newest wing of the courthouse had moved its head. I blinked, trying to bring it into focus, but it went back to being just another sculpture. Staring at anything for too long after being out in the heat could make anyone think they were seeing things, I decided. My necklace hadn’t so much as trembled, so it probably wasn’t magic. Of course it wasn’t magic, I reminded myself. This was Cobb, not New York. We didn’t have magic here.

I got out of Mom’s car to walk around, hoping the fresh air would clear my head. It was hard to tell what on the courthouse really belonged there and what might be new or unusual, considering what a mishmash of architectural styles it was. Different parts had been built in different eras, with the older parts remodeled in odd ways over the years, so that there were Gothic gargoyles perched on Art Deco arches. I remembered all the lectures from junior high art class when we’d taken field trips to sketch the courthouse. Too bad I didn’t still have those drawings, I thought. They’d have helped me be more sure of what I was seeing.

At the far side of the courthouse, near the gazebo that was part of the Civil War memorial, I saw a figure that didn’t seem to belong. He wore a rough, hooded robe that made him look more like a Jedi Knight than like a wizard. Then again, I hadn’t ever seen any wizards wearing robes, except at a costume party. Even Merlin wore business suits these days. I hid behind a crepe myrtle bush to watch him.

He danced around, waving his arms, and I thought I heard something that might have been chanting, though I was too far away to hear it clearly. He was certainly putting out more effort than I ever saw from the wizards I knew. They usually just waved a hand and muttered a few words to get what they wanted. My necklace hummed slightly against my chest, but it was perhaps the weakest response I’d ever noticed from it. After a while, the arms on the statue in front of the robed figure shivered, and the statue seemed to wake up. The robed figure then jumped up and down for joy. While he was jumping, the statue went back to its usual position and froze. I could hear his groan of frustration quite clearly when he noticed that.

The clock in the courthouse tower chimed five, and soon all the county workers came spilling down the front steps of the courthouse. The robed figure turned to face the sidewalk and waved his arms vigorously. My necklace shivered ever so slightly. Nobody seemed to notice that there was anything unusual happening. Every so often, one of the workers would go glassy-eyed for a second, and then he’d put some money on the ground in front of the robed figure before heading down the sidewalk. A few steps later, the worker would stumble, look disoriented for a second, and then go on his way.

I bit my tongue to keep myself from gasping out loud. I’d seen something like that once before, when Owen had tested one of Phelan Idris’s control spells.

I wouldn’t have believed if I hadn’t seen it for myself, but it looked like the least magical place on earth now had a town wizard.

My first impulse was to run at the wizard and tackle him to pull off his robes and uncover his identity, but I held back. His spells might not have been able to hurt me, but physical sticks and stones could break my bones. Not to mention the fact that assault and battery were considered crimes, and I was in the town square where both the county sheriff’s department and the city police department were housed. I didn’t think “but he was doing magic” would count as a valid excuse for an attack.

And then I realized that spying on the guy the way I was might not be the best idea, either. The wizard was definitely veiling himself and his activities from nonmagical people, judging from the lack of reaction to him. I had no such protection. Anyone who walked past would see me lurking around the courthouse grounds for no apparent reason. I guessed I could have approached him to talk to him and find out what his intentions were, but in case he wasn’t one of the good guys, I didn’t want to expose myself as a magical immune. That was my secret weapon, my ace up the sleeve. I’d need to know more before I could take any action.