Page 13 of Shadow Seeking

“I’ll get his carrier and things while you look around down here,” she said, obviously relieved. As she headed up the stairs, I set Murdoch down and we began looking through the cabinets and shelves. They were filled with spell components, from herbs to sachets to rusty nails to graveyard dust and other, more exotic items.

“She certainly was well-stocked. This looks like Penn’s store. I wonder what Angela’s going to do with all of this?—”

“I have everything I need for my own magic,” Angela said, returning with Murdoch’s carrier. He stared at it for a moment, then walked over and curled up inside it. “Well, that wasn’t any trouble.”

“If he’s that easy-going, this might work out,” I said. “So, if you’re planning on selling any of this, I might know someone who could use some of it. My best friend runs a magic shop.”

“She’s welcome to it, after I sort out what I want to keep,” Angela said, shutting the door on the carrier. “I’ll let you know when I’ve gone through everything.”

Dante and I looked through everything, but neither one of us worked magic and everything read like a foreign language.

I turned back to Angela while Dante examined the bookcase. “Do you see anything that strikes you as odd? You’re a witch, so you might recognize something that we don’t.”

Angela walked over to the table and sorted through the contents. “I think…it looks like she was making several powerful protection charms. The house is already protected, and I can tell you that there aren’t really any gaps in her wards. We were supposed to meet for dinner. As I told you, she said she had something she needed to talk to me about, but she didn’t want to discuss it over the phone.”

Dante motioned to me. I joined him at one of the bookcases. He held out a couple of grimoires that, again, dealt with demonology. I motioned for him to add them to the growing sack of items we were taking.

“Do you notice anything else?” I asked her.

Angela shook her head. “No, except I can’t seem to find her mandrake root. We each have a mandrake root that was passed down from our great-grandmother, and we guard those with our lives. They carry some of our family power. Letty wouldn’t take it out of her magical lab without a damned good reason.”

“What does it look like?” I asked.

She described the man-like root and we started sorting through all the cupboards and drawers, but half-an hour later, we came up empty-handed, and Angela was getting more and more concerned.

“Letty guarded that root with her life. I guard mine. They’re bound to us, even deeper than a familiar. The mandrake roots have a life force of their own.” She paused, then said, “I wouldnever tell most people this, because non-witches don’t realize it and there’s a reason we keep the information silent. But…when you have a Fam-Trad mandrake root, passed down by an ancestor, it contains a part of your family essence. And an enemy who gets hold of it can potentially use it as a weapon to target the owner.”

“Would Letty have taken it to school? Maybe she’s hidden it somewhere in the house?” Dante asked, looking around. “We searched all the cupboards upstairs.”

“Well, there are a few more down here that we haven’t tried,” Angela said. She began opening the drawers of the last cabinet, searching through them. She suddenly froze, then reached in to pull out a black velvet box about the size of her hand. A design was embossed on the top, a triskele. She set it on the table, then gingerly opened it. The box was empty.

“The root’s gone,” she said. “This was her mandrake’s home. It lived in this box. I don’t know its name, of course, but I know this is where she kept it.”

“Name?” I asked. “The mandrake has a name? Is it sentient?”

“Yes, mandrakes are sentient, and they have magic all their own. They’re not to be trifled with. Every full mandrake root has a name, but they only tell them to their witches. If a mandrake root is cut to make oil with, or if it’s shredded to use in various spells, the root effectively dies, although its magical energy is still there. Tradition is to give an offering to the earth in return for killing the mandrake.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said. Penn had never mentioned it. Now, I wondered if she had one and decided to ask her the next time we talked. While I didn’t have the abilities to work magic like a witch, magic fascinated me. Perhaps because I had some latent powers of my own that felt magical in their own way.

“Yes, the mandrake is part of a witch’s tradition, regardless of their specialty. But you can’t justbuya full mandrake root up front. It must be willed to you, or gifted, or you have to stumble over it somewhere. I know a couple witches who found theirs in a thrift shop, hidden back on a dusty shelf.”

“I assume you have one?” Dante asked.

Angela nodded. “Yes. As I said, our great-grandmother gave them to us, when we were born. Our mother kept them for us until we were old enough to use them responsibly. The mandrake is a powerful tool—and once you attune to it, nobody else can use it. But otherscanuse them to hurt their owners. I have an identical box with mine in it, and I keep it tucked away, out of sight. I can tell you right now, Letty’s root is no longer in this house. Either she took it somewhere, or it was stolen. Or both.”

“We need to search her office at the school before anybody else gets there, then,” I said. “I’ll call the academy this afternoon and see if we can make an appointment for this afternoon or tomorrow. If we find the mandrake root, what should we do with it? Can we safely touch it?”

Angela handed me the box and a long black ribbon. “If you find it, use a cloth, or wear a glove to pick it up and set it back in the box. Close it, tie it firmly shut with this ribbon, and then return it to me, if you will.”

“Right,” I said. Inside, I had the feeling that the mandrake root had played a party in Letty’s death. I just didn’t knowhow. We finished with the basement and then, I picked up Murdoch’s carrier and Dante picked up the sacks of items we were taking back to the office. We headed for the stairs.

“I guess we’ll be off. We’ll try to get these things back to you as soon as we can, and I’ll email you an inventory of what we’ve taken.” I paused, then once again, a cold shiver raced down my spine as I felt the shadow brush past me. I turned to Angela.

“Do you feel that?” I asked. “There’s some spirit in this house, but they haven’t tried to contact me, so I can’t quite pinpoint who or what it is. I can talk to some ghosts, but it’s not my specialty.”

“I know. I first noticed it two weeks ago, the last time I came to dinner. Letty brushed it off when I mentioned it, and she didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so I let it go. But I’ve felt it hanging around ever since I opened the door this morning. Whoever it is, seems to want me to pay attention because this is the fourth time that its shown itself.” Angela nodded. “I know it’s not Letty. I don’t know who it is, but I’m not the best person to find out. I’d hire a medium, but I’m not sure who I can trust.”

It occurred to me that Sophia might be able to help. “Our receptionist is an Oracle. She might be able to make contact, if we can bring her over here. It might be worth the time.”

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