Witch's Bell Book One

then,' the old man tipped his hat at her in such a gentlemanly fashion, 'you have a nice day there.'
    Ebony waved at him as she left the shop. 'Oh,' she touched the rim of her own hat, adding a wink, 'I think I will.'
    By the time Ebony had made it back to her shop, she was literally shining. It was just such a nice day. Everything was going right: the sun was shining, birds singing, people smiling. It was almost the type of day where nothing could go wrong.
    Almost.
    Ebony announced a cheerful 'good morning' to her store as she opened the door. It replied with a warm silence, dust motes drifting to and fro in the bright sunlight that shone through the open door.
    'It's going to be a good day today, Harry,' she said as she walked behind the counter, retrieving a file she kept there. 'All I have to do is look through these files for Ben, do a tiny little bit of work down at the depot,' she patted the counter, 'and then I'm free. To do what?' she continued the one-sided conversation with just as much engagement and passion as she would with an ordinary person. 'I simply don't know. I might just go down to the Turkish take away, grab a bag of pastries and Turkish delight, and go and catch a movie.'
    Ebony bit lightly into her bottom lip, securing the file under her arm. 'But for now, I bid you adieu.' Ebony winked, grabbed a lolly from the glass bowl on her counter, and walked back out of her store. While she could easily just stay there and do her work, leaving her store open for the rare customer that might walk through – Ebony just had to get out today. She had to sit at a nice cafe somewhere and stare at all the happy people from over the rim of her chocolate milkshake.
    By the time Ebony actually found a cafe she liked the look of, it was pushing past midday. She would spend an hour or so on these cases for Ben, she reasoned, then pick up her candles, and finally head to the depot.
    A young, thoroughly handsome waiter handed Ebony her towering chocolate milkshake, a pressed-lipped grin on his face. 'Here you go, ma'am,' he said softly, 'a lovely drink for a lovely lady,' he added, widening his smile.
    'Hmm,' Ebony replied easily, 'aren't we charming,' she flashed him a mysterious wink and quickly took a sip of her ice-cold drink.
    When she was sure no one was paying her too much attention, Ebony opened out the file on the cast iron of her outside table. Though she was never usually so public about her work, and was certain Ben would have a fit if he knew what she was doing, Ebony didn't care today. She was always sure to cast a babbledegook spell over all her important documents. Ensuring that if any non-magical person, or someone outside the confines of the Pact, saw the documents, all they'd see is a bunch of images and words that meant nothing at all. So what did it matter if she chose to read in the sun, rather than in her stuffy store?
    'Hmm,' Ebony ran a finger around the rim of her glass, collecting the excess chocolate sauce, and popping it in her mouth, 'what have we here?'
    There were seven or so cases in total, ranging from the innocent to the criminally bizarre. In one case a university student had become just a bit too interested in some reproduction of a rare grimore he'd found on the Internet, and accidentally summoned a monkey-demon. The demon had quickly gotten out of his control, trashed his basement apartment, and escaped, only to be found later by police, taunting the other monkeys at the zoo. The student in question had been brought in, given a warning, and had voluntarily agreed to have his future Internet searches filtered for potential accidental-zoological-summoning. The monkey had quickly been sent back from whence it had come, but only after it had managed to steal two police hats, one badge, four cups of coffee, and Ben's lucky tie.
    Ebony giggled to herself. It was remarkable how much of the crime they dealt with was essentially random. Just accidents from people who had no idea what they were doing. They'd run into a spell on a chat room, buy a strange book from a store, or accidentally pick up cursed souvenirs from their overseas travels.
    By and large, they didn't mean to do these things, and they certainly had no idea what magic was. It was all just accidental. Which while it was sometimes annoying, Ebony noted, was better than the alternative. Accidents were random, patterns weren't. Patterns always linked back to purposes. Patterns had points, had meaning, were part of stories.