Natural Mage (Magical Mayhem #2)(47)

“Wait. Penny. Miss Penny.” Smokey caught up with me. “Can I just call you Penny? What do your people call you?”

“Naive, mostly.” I made it to the other side of the street and stalled at the entrance to the cemetery. Strange feelings washed over me. Dense and thick, they seeped into my middle and took up residence. Not magic, or at least not any kind of magic I’d encountered.

“Are ghosts real?” I asked softly, starting forward again, albeit much slower.

“I’m inclined to think so, based on all the other things that are real.”

“Good point.” I blew out a breath, a creepy-crawly sensation taking over my body.

“They won’t hurt you, though. Of the things that might be in this—”

“I got it, I got it. That doesn’t change my terrible decision-making process. Where are these witches?”

He hesitated a moment, clearly not sure if he should help me.

“It’ll make things faster if I know where I’m going,” I whispered, moving down the concrete path, large gravestones to either side.

“Take a left when you’re able.”

I could’ve taken a left after each gravestone, but I figured he was talking about an actual path. When I came upon one, the same size as the one we were on, I did as he said and kept going. Soon he had me take a right, and my final instruction was to go straight back until I hit the wall.

“Will we walk right into them?” I asked, stooped now and half crouched, like a burglar.

“No. We’ll skirt beside them, go beyond them, cut in, and then sneak back toward them in the shadows.”

“My mother would batter me senseless if she knew I was getting tips from a person who lurks around in the shadows.”

“I like to know what’s going on without being seen.”

“Yes. I caught that.”

“Keep your voice down. They’ll be right up here off to the right. Drift this way.” He moved toward the left, and I followed, thankful he hadn’t put his hand on my shoulder in silent communication. The magic felt lovely and calming, but I was still traipsing around a weird-feeling cemetery in the dark after being blitzed with warnings about bad things. I wasn’t positive I’d be able to refrain from zapping him, or worse.

A few steps later, I could see candlelight flickering through a row of gravestones. A slim form moved in a languid sort of way, hands raised toward the sky. Another form, this one clearly a woman, had her hands raised in exactly the same way. I saw a couple more, all of them in the same pose, most wearing rings of flowers around their heads, some swaying in place to silent music. The one whose face I could see had a serene smile.

The most inclusive magic I’d ever experienced swirled around me, bringing joy to my middle and a grin to my lips. I contemplated joining them, partaking in the joy I was feeling. But it wasn’t my circle, and I didn’t want to disturb them. I said as much to Smokey, ready to retreat.

“You sure you don’t want a closer look? We won’t disturb them at all. We’ll just spy from the shadows.”

He really did the creepy thing well.

“Maybe just a look,” I said softly, curiosity getting the better of me. “Not spying, just looking.”

He was nice enough not to mention that it was essentially the same thing.

Smokey took the lead, drifting to the other side of the aisle and then around the corner. The view was much better from here. The group—they looked to be all women—sat in a circle surrounded by glowing candles. A plethora of items littered the ground in the middle. They chanted softly, either looking toward the sky or the ground.

Magic rose from the items between them, called to life by the words they were saying in harmony. The source of the beautiful magical light I’d seen. They were using their emotions for this chant, and using one another for more power.

“You see?” I said softly, hunching down next to Smokey in the shadow of a gravestone. “They’re coming together as a unit and speaking the spell. They are using one another for power boosts. Why can’t mages do that?”

“Mages…is that like…guy witches?”

“No. They’re witches with more power.”

“Ahh.” He nodded.

“Mages are usually super solo when it comes to magic,” I whispered. “They kind of shut everyone else away.”

“Many hands make light work,” he said.

“Yeah, right? I’m not crazy for thinking this way is better, am I?”

“No you are not. Working together usually gets the job done faster. Even salesmen do better in a unit.”

I squinted in confusion, not knowing what salesmen had to do with anything.

A scent wafted our way, earthy and dense. Incense, if I had to guess, though I couldn’t place the fragrance. A few words sporadically reached my ears, but the intentions of the magic were coming through loud and clear.

Comforting. Love. Healing.

“What do you think—”

“Shhh!” I waved away his words.

“May she be peaceful and joyous,” the group murmured softly.

I closed my eyes as paper crinkled. A new smell hit me, like something burning.

“Now, I don’t approve of that at all,” Smokey said, stiffening. “Starting fires is a no-no. Fire can get dangerous. Occasionally these witch—or mage—people accidentally create fireballs. Big fireballs that puff up into the air. That kind of practice is going a bit far.”