Page 40 of Dead and Gone

Rowan snorts. "Sure, it is."

"It's true," Corrie says quickly. "He's in my Physics class. Nobody speaks to him because he's freaking weird."

"Fine." I step closer, holding the glass beads up. How much does he know about the gems? The runes? "Do you know what's special about the mole's eyes? What are they used for?"

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Alistair swallows hard,and his voice drops. "I'm a Redridge and need them for a spell. If I have the right items, I could use the family magic."

"Witch abilities are inherited and if your name is Smith, you're not a full-blooded Redridge. You do not contain the ability to learn complex spells," I reply. "You couldn't perform anything useful."

"But if I have the gems I can use a Redridge spells," he repeats. "I'm a Redridge witch."

"You are not. Non-witches who use magic items tend to injure themselves badly," I add. "Didn't you know this?"

"But Iama witch!"

I scratch my nose. I came across people like him during my short stint at a human high school. They'd cultivate an image as outsiders. Talk about the occult.Pretendthey had powers or played around with Ouija boards.

"Barely a witch," I reply.

"I'm aRedridgewitch!" he protests again. "I've practiced their spells."

Grayson tightens his grip on the guy. "What spells?"

"Evidently not one for luck," mutters Rowan.

Alistair pulls up his coat sleeve and shows Grayson the inside of his forearm, revealing black tattooed shapes. "Redridge runes! I found incantations, used the runes, and my school grades went from D to B.Magic."

I'm not venturing into the psychology of a non-magical reason why his grades may improve after a 'spell', and merely give him a tight smile. "Where did you findtheserunes and incantations?"

Alastair looks at me as if I'm simple. "In a spell book."

I walk over to examine his runes and summon an image of the one on the mole's eyes. A rune on Alistair's arm matches the small circular symbol etched into the rubies. "And where did you find this spell book? Stolen from the museum too?"

"No. A couple of years ago, I researched my family history for a school assignment and discovered my great-great-grandfather was a Redridge—and suspected witch. My grandfather hid Redridge spell books that I found after he died. I started to practice the spells because I'm a witch!"

"And what spell are the gems used for?" I ask.

He grits his teeth, attempting to stop words emerging from his mouth as I force them out. "Mind magic. They magnify a spell to influence people into doing what you want. People should do whatIwant instead of treating me like crap."

"Oh. That's distasteful," I say.

"And illegal," adds Rowan.

"Do you know the Redridge history?" he snaps. "The council discriminated against Arthur Redridge when they discovered he was a witch. After the founders kicked him off the council, they erased my family's influence and power from history books. Nobody ever showed my relatives respect. People treat me like shit too. I'm going to change that!"

"Let me guess. Arthur was removed for using this 'influential' magic that you intend to perform?" asks Grayson.

Alistair glowers. "Witches have always lived in this town—the Redridges were here before the humans settled! We should be allowed more involvement in running the place."

We?

"There is witch involvement," says Rowan. "Butregulated."

"This spell mentioned amole's eyes?" I interrupt in disbelief.

"No. The gems needed for the spell are small and red and a note in the book indicated they went missing around the time Arthur Redridge was accused of witchcraft." He pauses, smiling proudly. "I figured it out. Arthur was a taxidermist—an albino mole would have red eyes. He'd hidden the magic gems from humans who wanted to use them as proof against him. I'd planned to take the mole when we visited the museum on the excursion, but these morons stole it first."

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