Judi gripped her mug and appeared dazed, as if she had just been informed about the death. “When I taught her, it was all charms, simple spells, nature magic. Nothing that would collapse a cave. What happened to her? These people she was with, this ritual—she knew better than to bother with anything that might summon a demon. What was she trying to do?”
“She was trying to save the world,” Kitty said, straightforward, without irony. “She was kind of nuts. But she was brave.” She took a sip of her tea, hiding her expression.
Cormac had a feeling Kitty was being kind, painting the girl in a better light than Cormac—or anyone else—would have. Probably for the best. Maybe her family would feel better remembering her as a hero. Didn’t hurt anything.
Even Amelia was getting emotional. I see so much of myself in Amy Scanlon, which makes no sense. It shouldn’t be possible in a woman born in this era instead of mine. She had so many freedoms, so many opportunities … to have what she did and still yearn for more …
You should talk to Kitty, he told her. Get a crash course in feminism. She’d tell you there’s still plenty to yearn for.
I’m trying to decide … can I reasonably speculate about what Amy might have been thinking, simply based on my perception of our similarities? Or am I deluding myself that we had anything in common at all?
They’d just add it to the list of maybes.
“We think a lot of what she did was coded in her book of shadows,” Kitty said, kindly but still leading in a subtle way Cormac never would have been able to manage. “I would love to know what she was thinking, before she got to where she ended up.”
Judi shook a thought away and said, “So would I. She went to places I never thought of going. Never wanted to go. I’m not even sure what she was looking for.”
Kitty wasn’t a trained counselor, but she’d had plenty of practice playing amateur therapist on her radio show, and she obviously pulled those skills out now. “I’ve got her journal, her book of shadows. She told me to keep it, to use it. But we need the code to be able to do that. If you can help us with that, we’ll give you the book, you can find out for yourself what she—”
“Oh, but I don’t want that kind of magic,” Judi said, smiling sadly. “And I must say I’m suspicious of you, that you do want it.”
Kitty ducked her gaze, hiding amusement. “So you give Cormac a test, hand him this mystery and tell him to solve it, to see if he’s worthy?”
“Is he?” Frida said bluntly, tipping her head at Cormac.
Cormac himself kind of wondered what Kitty was going to say to that.
She looked up at him, lips curled. “He does all right.”
Then it was Kitty and Cormac looking back at the two of them. Kitty’s brown-eyed gaze was so sympathetic, how could anyone tell her no?
The bell on the door rang, a customer entering, and Frida went to the cash register to help. The hairless cat reappeared, jumping on the counter to rub against the woman.
“You handed me a mystery,” Cormac said. “I’m curious enough I’ll take a look at it and let you know what I come up with, whether or not you want to help us with Amy’s book. You can decide that later. How does that sound?”
Judi eased herself off the chair, collected Kitty’s empty mug. “How can I argue with that?”
Kitty pulled a business card from her pocket. “Here’s my number. If you want to talk any more about Amy, just call, any time.”
Nodding, Judi accepted the card.
Then the meeting was over, and he and Kitty were back outside, walking on the sidewalk in the sunlight.
“Well,” Kitty said. “Goodwill won, I think.”
“So. You think she can help? Or is she stringing me along?”
Mouth pursed, she thought a moment. “They just … Judi at least has a memory of Amy that doesn’t match up with the Amy I knew. That has to be hard. They want to be careful, I think. Neither one of them made my hackles twitch, if that helps. Well, that cat did. Yeesh. Don’t trust that cat, okay?”
It was as good a vote of confidence as he was likely to get.
Chapter 7
FROM WHAT little the two women had given him, Cormac had a surprising amount of information to go on: the names of the people involved, newspaper articles about the event, the location where the so-called wizards’ duel had taken place. And Amelia’s memories.
I never met Augustus Crane, but I heard about him. She’s right, Manitou Springs was filled with ghost hunters and Spiritualists back then. Hobbyists, mostly. Well-to-do folk looking for a thrill, trying to be daring. Crane was a bit more serious—he was a mentor to many who still mourned his loss when I arrived in the area. Some claimed his ghost haunted the bit of land where he’d died. People would speak of Crane’s rival without ever mentioning his name. This must be Milo Kuzniak. For my part, the brand of magic practiced by him and his followers was too public and full of artifice for me to pay much mind. Too many frauds manipulating the gullible. I had other interests.
Amelia had never been interested in showing off; she was interested in power. She didn’t care what others thought of her. She wanted to know how magic worked. All of it.