badly. We’ve heard there’s a truth spell, a ritual that can be done by a
talented witch who will compel him to answer the questions despite his loss of
memory. We think the truth is still in his head, just blocked off or hidden. We
think this spell will let him give us the information we need.”
I thought about it for a moment before answering, uneasily
aware of his predatory eyes on me.
“Perhaps. It would depend, of
course, on whether the memories are still there or if they have been erased
completely. If they are still there, it’s possible a truth spell would bring
them out. Additionally, achieving success in retrieving the information would
depend on what has been done to him, the strength of the witch or wizard, the
strength of the spell. I could not guarantee the results, you understand. It
may work, it may not.”
“We get that. We want you to try. You have quite a good
reputation. If the memories are gone, well then, they’re gone. If the other
witch or wizard is stronger, you’ll let us know and we will find someone even
stronger. If it works, we will be very happy. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. You’ll
be paid either way.”
I nodded. Magic was always uncertain and messing with
someone else’s spells even more so. If the spell was what I thought it
was, countering it could be relatively easy. More often than not though, I’d
run in to something unexpected. Some aspect of the spell would be unusual or
different. In that case, the results ranged from some spectacular failures to
the more usual nothing at all . I was always a little uncertain about
contracting out my magical skills and I never did so without a promise I’d get
paid, regardless of the outcome. In advance. I’d had a few grumpy customers
thinking I had ripped them off when in actuality, what they’d wanted wasn’t
possible. I had to give a man a cat’s tail once, to prove I really could do
magic (just not the magic he wanted) and to get him to back off and leave me
alone. He ended up paying me extra—on top of our agreed-upon fee—to remove the
tail. Although I’d been pretty certain that was the end of it, I admit I did
watch him in my crystal ball for a few weeks to make sure he wasn’t planning on
revenge. My response to his anger may have seemed rather cruel but the story
got around and I’d had less trouble since then.
Turning my attention back to the man in front of me, I
resumed the conversation. Details about how much I charged, how much material
would cost, and when and where were hammered out before the strangers left. The
tall one cast a suspicious glance back at me as they went through the door and
I shivered. The moment they’d gone, I locked the door behind them, taking down
my open sign.
I hoped I hadn’t just bitten off more than I could chew.
Unfortunately, I needed the money, and their fee was very generous. Even though
Ryan’s eyes had made me shiver and even though the tall one seemed to be
nothing more than a thug, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d worked for people
on the wrong side of the law. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last.
I prepped for the ritual over the next week. We’d determined
a warehouse they owned would be a perfect place for me to do my thing, and the
tall one came by and dropped off keys a couple days after our meeting. I
preferred to prepare by myself. Not that there was anything secret about the
process… But people tended to ask too many questions and the whole procedure
always ended up taking at least twice as long when I had an audience.
Alone at the warehouse, I spread salt in a series of circles,
moving outward from a set point where I would place the subject. I put candles
in iron sconces around the space—they didn’t actually do anything but people
seemed to expect them—and spread a protective cloak over the whole building. The
last thing we wanted were strangers wandering in halfway through the ritual.
Finished, I dusted off my hands and looked