The Conjurer (The Vine Witch #3)(42)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Elena walked among the market’s generous baskets of spices and plucked flowers. There were also shells, jewelry, boxes of fresh fruit, clay pots with olives, shawls of wool and silk and lace, and even a few bottles of red wine for sale beside salty fish wrapped in paper. She’d need to consult her grimoire with Sidra, as delicately as possible, to learn which ingredients would be the most potent against the jinn, but as she only had the few coins in her satchel, the options were limited at best.
Ingredients for potions weren’t the only thing Elena browsed for. She also kept her eye on the people. She walked past each market stand until she came across a fellow in a dirty white shirt with sooty marks around the neck where a deep purple aura peeked out. He was busy tying sweetgrass into bundles for smudging—always a helpful cleanse for a spiritually sullied space. On his counter sat half a dozen brass incense burners, a bowl filled with chunks of resin she assumed was frankincense, and several bronze amulets small enough to be carried in a pocket for luck. The merchant himself appeared rather shopworn, though she supposed he had a genial-enough face and disposition. Besides, her instinct told her he and his goods might be of help.
Elena circled his shop at arm’s length as she continued to browse. The man stood to help another customer, alternating his weight between his good leg and a false one. Ah, so this was the one-legged sorcerer. And a thief as well, according to Sidra. Elena waited for him to sell a man a scoop of dried seedpods, then approached.
“May I help you choose an incense, madame?”
“I’m more interested in your talismans and sorcery skills, actually.” Sometimes it’s best to get right to the point. “You are Yanis, correct?” He shifted uncomfortably on his wooden leg. “I’m a friend of Sidra’s, and I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.”
“Worse news than being a friend of Sidra’s?”
She ignored his remark. “I’m a witch in need of assistance protecting the village from a jinni, and I have it on good authority that’s something you can help me with.”
He backed away and leaned on his stool. “You have the wrong man.” He held his calloused hands out as if to prove they’d been depleted of anything she could want. “I’m a simple sorcerer who sells a few charms and ingredients for spells.” To make clear his position, he swept two magically incriminating medallions off his counter and stowed them away.
“I understand your hesitation when it comes to dealing with the jinn. I’d rather not be here myself. I have a husband at home who requires my attention, a vineyard that desperately needs nurturing, and a monk who ought to hear a few words of forgiveness before he returns to his abbey. But unless there’s another sorcerer with your particular experience in the village, I’m afraid you’re it.”
“Madame, you should return home to your husband. Tend to your vineyard. You will find only disappointment if you try to interfere with the jinn in this village.”
Elena peered at him until he nearly shriveled from the scrutiny. Had she heard wrong? Was he a mere charlatan selling charms to tourists?
No, he was the one. The shiver running up and down her neck was rarely wrong.
“But it is possible? There are amulets or spells that can help? Potions perhaps?”
The man shook his head. “If you try to interfere in magic you know nothing about, you will find yourself at the mercy of the jinn. There are symbols. Rituals. But one false move and the jinn can easily overtake you.” He pointed a finger to his temple to insinuate they could get inside her head.
“Sounds like you know more than you let on.”
He grumbled something about another lifetime before accepting a coin from a woman for a packet of incense. He wished the woman well, smiling at her as she walked away, then let his annoyance show when he saw Elena still standing at his counter.
“I could compel you to help,” she said. “The matter is that urgent.”
“It’s against your laws.”
“Only when used against mortals.” That got his attention. To convince him she was serious, she took a pinch of herbs from a bowl on his counter and ground them up with her fingers, letting the crushed bits of leaf fall in her palm. “Wind that blows, leaf that stirs, ruffle the hats of mesdames and messieurs.”
She blew a puff of breath over the herbs, and the wind picked up. A whirlwind—she kept it small enough to hit only one market stand at a time—stirred up leaves and debris from the ground and kicked them into the air. Men and women turned their backs and clamped their hands over their hats to keep them from blowing off their heads. Yanis, too, had to spread his arms over his merchandise to keep the items from blowing away. Elena closed her fingers to form a fist, and the mini storm abated as the whirlwind lifted over their heads and vanished.
“All right, all right,” he said. “No reason to show off.”
“We haven’t much time,” she said. “It’s probably best you close shop for the day and come with me. We have a protection spell to design, you and I. Unless you’d rather see the town burned to the ground by a horde of angry jinn. Because I assure you, monsieur, that’s exactly who we need protection from.”
Yanis raised his eyes to the sky. “Am I to be plagued with unruly women of magic all my life?”