Witch's Bell Book One

could, and has, complained that she ordered those chairs from a legitimate, ordinary supplier. And that if they were cursed, it's only the unusual magical environment of Vale that is bringing out the full power of that effect.'
    'You see,' Ben had found some kind of chocolate bar in one of his pockets and was nibbling it, sure to keep it well out of reach of Ebony, 'if the cursed chairs had been bought anywhere else but Vale, the curse wouldn't have manifested properly. The worst the owners could expect is a couple of splinters and maybe the chair would fall on the cat once – nothing too bad.'
    'But because it's in Vale,' Nate interjected, his keen eyes sparkling with that annoying competence, 'the curse comes out in full. But if this Flora woman didn't curse them herself, and imported them legitimately, she can't be held accountable for any damage caused, right?'
    'She can be held accountable,' Ebony said passionately, curling one hand into a fist and shooting Flora a defiant look from behind the glass, 'because the stupid woman obviously cursed the darn things.'
    Nate just scratched his neck. 'I don't get it, so we can't charge her. Surely we can get her to stop selling the chairs, and recall the ones she's already sold?'
    'We did,' Ben stowed his chocolate bar. 'I slapped her with the warning myself. But now she's claiming she's switched suppliers, and much to her horror,' Ben's voice was staccato and sarcastic, 'it looks as if these chairs are cursed too.'
    'Cursed rocking chairs,' Nate repeated dully. 'This really is different to my previous job.'
    Ben slapped him on the back. 'You'll love it, in time.'
    Ebony looped her hair behind her ears. 'Alright, I'm going in,' she snapped at Ben, 'I've had enough of this idiotic-'
    'Eb,' Ben warned,' don't be too fiery now. There's the law, remember.'
    Ebony arched an eyebrow, took a snort like a bull, and pushed defiantly at the glass door of Flora's Antiques.
    'You know,' she heard Ben whisper to Nate behind her, 'most of this job is controlling Eb.'
    She almost whirled around to swear at Ben, but caught sight of Flora instead. The old devil was perched on a white wicker-chair behind the counter, beady eyes staring out over floral-rimmed glasses.
    'Dear,' Flora intoned in a creaky voice that sounded like a rusty weather cock shuttling around in the wind, 'it's dear little Ebony.'
    Ebony drew to a halt at the counter; she rested one long hand on the wood and started to drum her red fingernails with a steady beat. 'Don't you call me dear.'
    Flora looked up with a fake, meek, little smile. 'Oh sorry, darling.'
    Ebony snorted. 'Look here, we know what you're doing. It's got to stop. If you have some strange fetish about furniture that hugs you to death, keep it to yourself, for crying out loud!'
    Ben drew up beside Ebony, Nate taking position on her other side. She suddenly felt hemmed in – or contained, maybe.
    'Officer Tate,' Flora smiled drearily up at Ben.
    'It's Detective Tate.'
    'You have a new friend,' the old woman's voice was soft and deceptively friendly.
    'I have a new partner,' Ben corrected, 'and you, apparently, need a new warning.' Ben produced a folded-up piece of parchment from his pocket. 'And here it is.'
    'Oh, but Detective Tate,' the old woman teetered on the edge of her dirty white wicker-chair, 'but I didn't know, honestly, it was just another accident.'
    'Yeah okay,' Ben's voice was strained, but even, 'don't let it happen again, Flora.'
    Ebony's palms curled, her fingernails digging ceaselessly into her flesh. They were just going to let the fool get away with it again, weren't they? So a couple of weeks down the track she'd sell yet another cursed chair and some poor old grandfather would get quite a shock while nodding off in front of the news. Sure, Flora hadn't killed anyone yet, but it was precisely misuse of magic like this that annoyed Ebony more than anything. It was just so pointless.
    'Now you listen to me,' Ebony's voice became darker. In fact, the clouds outside began to block out the sun, casting long shadows into the store. 'You may not be a witch, Flora, so you won't have to deal with the Coven. But there are worse things, Flora, much worse.'
    'Eb,' Ben hissed sharply in her ear, 'don't do anything stupid.'
    Ebony ignored him. 'You keep practicing magic, especially magic like this – magic without a purpose, magic without a story – and you'll attract things, Flora, horrible things.'
    Ebony was satisfied to see Flora's