Witch's Bell Book One

over-the-top edge she usually had.
    'But every win is a win,' he spread his arms trying to make his point. 'And I have a car.'
    'Those statements are unrelated,' she found herself smiling again.
    'True, but I can use my car and my apparently excellent knowledge of the streets of Vale to successfully transport us from this street corner to our intended destination.'
    'Are you offering to give me a lift?' she cocked her head to the side. 'Because I know how you drive, Detective, and I'd really like to get there before the end of the day.'
    He crossed his arms again. 'Ever heard the saying about not looking a gift horse in the mouth?'
    Ebony nodded eventually. 'Is that because they have bad breath?'
    Nate just shook his head. 'You really know how to lay on the charm,' he pulled his keys from his pocket and motioned her down the street.
    As they walked, Ebony became aware of the little details again. While she was a witch, she might notice the feel of the sun on the back of her neck, or the scuff of paint on a car door, or the slightly loose button on a man's shirt. But she'd always work it into the bigger pattern. That was the thing about magic – the beauty of it, the power of it – the magic of it. Everything stood for something, everything was there for a reason, and – if you knew how to do it – you could change things, bring about the spectacularly unlikely by paying keen attention to the relation of the part to the whole.
    But now things had been turned on their head. Ebony no longer knew what the whole was. Without magic, she had no more ability to affect the probabilities of her life than Nate – and maybe even less so, considering how much a blank slate she was to all of this. But the feeling of being isolated from the universal plan was as sharp and bitter as lemon on the tongue. Ebony no longer knew automatically how the little details, the little experiences, the little feelings of her day fit into the overall plan.
    So here she was, finding herself lost in the details instead. Suddenly the way Nate walked, his hips tense and steady, fascinated Ebony. And the fact his shirt always ruffled out more at one side - creasing while the rest of the clean white-cotton remained straight and neat. The way he looked casually to each side also filled Ebony with a sudden curious wonder. She had no idea what he was looking at, or why he might be doing it, or what such a behavior could afford him – all Ebony could really concede was that it grabbed her attention.
    She had no idea how to construct the whole from the parts, to integrate the tiny experiences until they were once again the sum of their parts – but maybe that was the curse and blessing of humanity. For, just as lost as it seemed to leave her, it ignited interest and wonder in a way she'd never experienced. To the witch, a possibility was something to be changed, a fact to be manipulated with the correct application of magical power. To Ebony's now mundane eye, a possibility was a mystery. It hinted at the unknown in a way a signpost can point through a desert, confidently asserting that your destination lay in that direction, but without giving you the course or means to get there.
    Once again Ebony found herself being lost in her thoughts – her brain trying to get a hold on all her new experiences – with lashings of wild emotion, spiraling thoughts, and just plain confusion.
    'You're doing it again,' Nate said suddenly.
    'What?' she looked across at him, pulling her hair behind her ears.
    'You're spacing out.'
    Ebony felt her cheeks warm. That was the thing about spacing out – for some reason it was so easy to slip into, but hard to explain. She gave an awkward chuckle. 'Just thinking,' again with the honesty. What was Ebony turning into, a nun? In which case, there were a great deal of inappropriate clothes in her wardrobe she'd have get rid of.
    'Right,' and he left it at that.
    Right? That's all he'd said. But what had he meant? Had he meant that it was alright, or that it was right that Ebony had been thinking – that it was a correct description of what she'd said? Was it meant to be ironic? Or did he mean something else? For the first time, Ebony actually thought about what the Detective was really trying to say every time he used that word.
    He laughed. 'And again, you are spacing out.'
    'I am not spacing out. I'll have you know that I am quite in control.'
    'Right,' this time there was no mistaking the sarcasm. Nate clearly meant