Smiling distantly, I ran a hand over my hair, remembering how it would snarl up from the forces that leaked from his magic as he explained a bit of lore while he worked, his eyes bright and eager for me to understand.
The soft scrape of Pierce setting his cup down by the box jerked me from my memories, and my focus sharpened. "Is there anything here you can use?" I asked, pushing it closer to him as we stood over it. "I'm more of an earth witch. Or I will be, when I get my license."
"Miss Rachel," he said lightly, his attention on the box's contents as his calloused fingers poked around, "only a witch of some repute can summon those at unrest, and only those of unsurpassed skill I expect can furnish them a body." A faint smile crossed his eyes. "Even one as transient as this one."
Embarrassed, I shrugged one shoulder. "It wasn't all me. Most of the energy came from the collective emotions of everyone at the square."
"And whose idea was it to work the charm at the square?" he said, taking out a handful of metallic disks and pins and discarding them into an untidy pile.
I thought back. It had been mine to go to the concert and use the emotion to help strengthen the curse, but Robbie's to use the square's instead. "Robbie's, I guess."
Pierce held a charm up to the light. "Ah," he said in satisfaction. "This I can use."
I looked at the thick silver washer with its pin running through it. Apart from a few ley line inscriptions lightly etched on it, the charm looked like the ones he'd set aside. "What is it?"
The man's smile grew positively devilish. "This likely bit of magic is a noisy lock picker," he said, then set it beside his cup of coffee.
"Noisy?"
Pierce was again rummaging. "It makes an almighty force to jolt the door from its hinges," he said lightly.
"Oh." I peered into the box with more interest and held the flaps out of his way. It was like looking into a box of chocolates, not knowing which ones were good until you took a bite.
A pleased sound escaped Pierce, and he held up another charm, his fingertip running over the symbols etched into it. "This one senses powerful magic. Perhaps it's still working?"
His gaze on the charm, he pulled the pin. The empty interior of the washer-like charm started to glow a harsh red.
Pierce seemed surprised, then he laughed. "Land sakes, I'm a fool. You hold it," he said, handing it over.
I took it, bemused when Pierce backed up, nearly into the hall.
A faint cramping seemed to make my palm twitch, and the harsh red faded to a rosy pink. I glanced at the box of ley line stuff, and Pierce shook his head, coming back and taking it from me. Again it glowed brilliantly.
"It's functioning perfectly," he said, and the spell went dark when he put the pin back in place. "I've no mind to guess how effective it will be if it's glowing like that from me," and he set it gently on the table.
My lips parted, and I looked at him, and then the charms on the table. "You're triggering it? I thought it was the spells."
Pierce laughed, but it was nice. "I'm a spectre, walking the earth with a body that is a faint step from being real. I expect that qualifies as strong magic."
Flustered, I shrugged, and he put his attention back in the box.
"This one is for calling familiars," he said, dropping it onto the table with the discards. "This one for avoiding people who are searching for you. Oh, this is odd," he said, holding one up. "A charm to give a body a hunched back? That has to be a misspelling."
I took it from him, making sure our fingers touched. Yeah, he was dead, but I wasn't. "No, it's right," I said. "It's from a costume. My dad used to dress up on Halloween."
"Halloween?" Pierce asked, and I nodded, lost in a memory.
"For trick-or-treat. I'd be the mad scientist, and he'd be my assistant. We would go up and down the halls of the hospital…" My emotions gave a heavy-hearted lurch, and I swallowed down a lump. "We'd hit the nurse's desk in the children's ward, and then the old people's rooms."
I didn't want to talk about it, and my fingers set it down sliding away with a slow sadness. It seemed Pierce understood, since he was silent for a moment, then said, "You look the picture of health, Miss Rachel. A fair, spirited, young woman."
Grimacing, I picked up the charm and dropped it back into the box. "Yeah, well, try telling my brother that."
Again he was silent, and I wondered what his nineteenth-century morals were making of me and my stubborn determination. He said I was spirited, but I didn't think that was necessarily a good thing back then.
"This is one I'd like to take if I might," Pierce said as he held up a rather large, palm-sized metallic amulet. "It detects people within a small space."