defeat this thing.”
“Sure, but before I let you go, one of our scholars has been making inquiries. Of the one or two known world sightings of image changers, the demon wasn’t defeated. It left on its own, after weeks of killing. Sorry I don’t have better news.”
Rather than lose hope, Ari immersed herself in research with renewed determination. The last doubt about the enemy’s true nature was gone. Maybe the knowledge should have scared her, but frankly, she didn’t have time to think about the personal dangers. Riverdale couldn’t endure long weeks of bloodshed.
She concentrated on how to force the demon to vanquish itself. If she could trap it in its human form, and destroy that body by witchcraft or any other means, the demon would try to save its essence. During the last moments, it could choose to become an earthbound shade or banish itself forever to the demon realm. Either way, its reign of terror would be over.
Freezing spells, binding potions. Ari found dozens, but all were temporary fixes and not one claimed to work on demons. Would they work on a demon in human form? Could she increase the strength? After hours of searching, she’d found nothing that gave her the answers.
Ari’s eyes grew blurry. How long had it been since she’d slept? Blowing an exhausted breath between her lips, she collapsed facedown over the keyboard.
“Forget it,” she mumbled into her arms, “the answer isn’t here.”
* * *
Ari was saved from drifting into a deep sleep by Ryan calling to complain. “How the hell am I supposed to find a demon?” he demanded. “No name, no description. It’s impossible.”
“On a hunch, I’d guess the search has bogged down.”
“The only good news I have is Olde Town is quiet. No fights or confrontations. At least Andreas is having more success on his end than we are.”
“Speak for yourself. I’ve learned all kinds of things. Need your love life improved? How about good fortune? Or maybe the ideal job? The internet is full of useless spells written by amateurs. There’s a spell for everything, except vanquishing demons.”
“Maybe you should talk with your witch mentor again.”
“Moriana told me all she knew. Even the scholars at the research lab can’t find an instance where an image changer was defeated. I really need Great-Gran. She’d know what to do. She had centuries of knowledge stored in her head.”
“Too bad she didn’t write it down.”
Ari gave a weary sigh. She had. In the missing Book of Shadows. Witches were prolific recorders. Something they were taught as soon as they could hold a quill or a pen. Even Ari had a diary of her own.
She sat up straight. The notes! Maybe the Book wasn’t her only source. She had the personal papers and letters written by Great-Gran and her mother. It was worth a try.
Ari had used the old trunk as a coffee table for years and didn’t give its contents a second thought most of that time. She hadn't looked beneath the top tray of scrying equipment in a long time. Great-Gran had produced the trunk from somewhere after Ari’s parents died. At six-years-old, the young witch had barely understood what had happened to her parents. Great-Gran had made a ritual of storing the small mementos away. Many years later, Ari had added a new layer of Great-Gran’s things. Among the contents, Ari was sure she remembered letters, a journal of Great-Gran’s, some old photos, and miscellaneous loose papers. Ari had skimmed the papers at one time, but that was years ago, before she had given up believing The Book of Shadows would return. She’d intended to sort the contents at a later date, but like so many good intentions, it hadn’t happened. Maybe she hadn’t been ready to face the pain. Now she wondered if one of the missing women in her life might be able to help defeat the demon.
Half-way through the trunk, she began to think this wasn’t such a hot idea. So far she’d cried over Great-Gran’s shawl and the six-inch seashell that had sat next to the old woman’s bed. From the time Ari was very little, she’d been told it was a secret portal to the ocean. She used to sneak into Great-Gran’s bedroom and hold the shell to her ear, fascinated by the sound of the waves trapped inside.
Damn, Ari thought, wiping her cheeks, she was too tired to do this. The memories were too distracting. She re-wrapped the shell in the soft towel and returned