The Indigo Spell

frowned, and my heart pounded. Creating youth made all my Alchemist sensibilities reel. It was nearly as bad as Strigoi immortality, maybe worse if she was talking about a human doing it. That kind of twisted magic had no place in this world. Her next words drove home the wrongness of it all. “Or, in her case, sacrificing others.”

Sacrifice. The very word seemed to poison the air. She stood up and walked over to a shelf, producing a newspaper clipping. Wordlessly, she handed it to me. It was a recent article, from three days ago, talking about a nineteen-year-old UCLA student who’d been found comatose in her dorm room. No one knew what had caused it, and the girl was hospitalized with no indication of when or if she’d wake up.

“What is this?” I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

I inspected the article more closely, especially the picture it contained. At first, I wondered why the paper would show a sleeping old woman. Then, reading the fine print, I learned that the coma victim also displayed some unexplained physical symptoms: gray-streaked hair and dry, cracked skin. Doctors were currently investigating rare diseases. I cringed, unable to believe what I saw. She was hideous, and I couldn’t look at her for very long.

And just like that, I suddenly understood. Veronica wasn’t sacrificing victims with knives and stone altars. She was conducting some kind of perverse magic on these girls that bent the rules of nature, putting them in this hideous state. My stomach twisted, and I gripped the table for support.

“This girl was one of Veronica’s victims,” confirmed Ms. Terwilliger. “That’s how she maintains her youth and beauty—by taking it from others. When I read this, I thought—almost hoped—some other magic user was doing it. Not that I’d wish this on anyone. Your scrying spell confirmed she was in the area, however, which means it’s my responsibility to deal with her.”

I dared a look down at the article again and felt that nausea well up again. The girl was nineteen. What would it be like to have the life sucked out of you at so young an age? Maybe the coma was a blessing. And how corrupt and twisted would you have to be to do that to someone?

I didn’t know how exactly Ms. Terwilliger would “deal with” her sister and wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. And yet, if Veronica really was doing things like this to innocents, then yes, someone like Ms. Terwilliger needed to stop her. A magical attack of this magnitude was one of the most terrible things I could imagine. It brought back all my ingrained fears about the wrongness of magic. How could I justify using it when it was capable of such horror? Old Alchemist lessons came back to me: Part of what makes the Moroi particularly dangerous is their ability to work magic. No one should be able to twist the world in that way. It’s wrong and can easily run out of control.

I tuned back into the present. “How do I fit into this, ma’am? I already figured out where she is. Why am I in danger?”

“Sydney,” Mrs. Terwilliger said, looking at me strangely. “There are few young women out there with your abilities. Along with youth and beauty, she intends to suck someone’s magic away and use it to make herself that much more powerful. You, my dear, would be the ultimate coup for her.”

“She’s like Strigoi,” I murmured, unable to repress a shiver. Although those undead vampires could feast on anyone, they preferred Moroi because they had magic in their blood. Drinking Moroi blood made Strigoi more powerful, and a chilling thought suddenly hit me. “Practically a human vampire.”

“Something like that,” Ms. Terwilliger agreed. “This amulet should hide your power, even from someone as strong as her. She shouldn’t be able to find you.”

A calico cat jumped up on the table, and I ran a hand over her sleek fur, taking comfort in the small contact. “The fact that you keep saying ‘should’ makes me a little nervous. Why would she even come looking in Palm Springs? Does she know about me yet?”

“No. But she knows I’m here, and she may check on me once in a while—so I need to hide you in case she does. I’m in a bind, however, because I need to find her but can’t actively do the hunting. If she finds out I’m investigating, she’ll know that I know she’s here. I can’t alert her. If I have the element of surprise on my side, I’m more likely to stop her.” She frowned. “I’m honestly surprised she would come so close to me in California at all. Regardless, I need to keep a low profile until it’s time to strike.”

Ms. Terwilliger looked at me meaningfully, and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I began to put together what she was saying. “You want me to hunt her.”

“It’s not hunting so much as gathering some data. You’re the only one I can trust to do this. She and I can sense each other if we’re close, no matter how much we try to hide our magic. I know this is going to sound shocking, but I actually think it’d be best if you hunted her—even if you’re the one she’s after. You’re one of the few I can trust completely, and you’re resourceful enough to pull something like this off.”

“But I’d be putting myself out there. You just said I’d be a big catch for her.” The twists and turns here were mindboggling.

“Yes. Which is why I gave you the amulet. She won’t sense your magic, and if you’re cautious in your investigation, she should have no reason to notice you.”

I still wasn’t following the logic here. “But why me? You have a coven. If you can’t do it yourself, then there must be someone else—a stronger witch—who can do it.”

“Two reasons,” she said. “One is that you have excellent investigative skills—more so than others older than you. You’re intelligent and resourceful. The other reason . . . well, if another witch goes after her, she might very well kill Veronica.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” I didn’t like violence and killing by any means, but this might be a case where it was justified, if it could save other lives. “You said you were going to ‘take care of her.’”

“If I have no choice . . . if I must kill her, then I will.” She looked dejected, and I had a moment of empathy. I loved my two sisters. What would I do if I was ever in a deadly conflict with one of them? Of course, it was hard to imagine Zoe or Carly committing this kind of atrocity. “However, there are other ways of neutralizing and subduing a magic user. If there’s any way—any way at all—I can do that, I will. My coven sisters won’t feel that way, which is why I need your help.”

“I can’t.” I pushed the stool back and stood up, nearly stepping on a cat in the process. “There must be some other way you can do this. You know I’m already bogged down in supernatural affairs.” I actually couldn’t bring myself to admit the real reason I wanted to dodge this. It was about more than just risking my life. So far, all my magical interactions had been with Ms. Terwilliger. If I signed on for this, I would be plunging into the world of witches, something I’d sworn I would never do.

Ms. Terwilliger tapped the article, and her voice was quiet when she spoke. “Could you let this happen to other girls, knowing there’s a way you could stop it? I’ve never heard of any of her victims waking up. The way this spell works, Veronica needs to renew it every few years, and it requires five victims within one month. She did this once before, and it caught me off guard. This time, we have warning. Four more people could suffer this fate. Do you want that?”

There it was. She’d called me on the other part that had been nagging me because she knew me too well. I couldn’t let innocents suffer, not even if it meant risking myself or facing the fears that haunted me. If I could stop this, I had to. No one deserved the fate of that girl in the paper. “Of course not.”

“And let’s not forget that you could soon be one of her victims.”

I touched the garnet. “You said I’m hidden.”

“You are, for now. And I hope against all hope you’ll stay that way.” I’d never seen her so grim before, and it was hard to watch. I was used to her prattling, bumbling, no-nonsense nature. “But here’s something I’ve never told you about how magic users sense each other.”

Something I’d learned over the years: it was never a good thing when people said, “Here’s something I never told you. . . .” I braced myself.

“Untrained magic users have a particular feel that’s unique from the more experienced,” she explained. “There’s a oh, wildness about the magic that surrounds you. It’s easy for advanced witches to sense. My coven keeps track of novice magic users, but those are tightly guarded secrets. Veronica won’t have access to those names, but there are spells she can use that can pick up on some of that untamed magic if it’s near her. It’s how she probably found this poor girl.” Ms. Terwilliger nodded toward the article.

The idea of me having some “wild” magical aura was as shocking as her saying I had magic in my blood.

“When she absorbs a victim,” Ms. Terwilliger continued, “she gets a burst of that wildness. It fades quickly, but when she possesses it, it can briefly enhance her ability to scry for another untrained victim. The more victims she takes, the stronger that ability will grow. There’s a chance,” Ms. Terwilliger said gravely, “that it could be