Shafts of morning sunlight gently pried their way through the ivy-shrouded stained-glass window. The sunbeams faintly illuminated the room, catching on the shimmering drapery of the bed in the center.
Sabrina Spellman turned over in her sleep, murmuring. Her golden hair fanned across the pillow, twinkling in the faint traces of light. Mumbling incoherently, she buried her face in the pillow before pulling the covers over her head.
A small black bundle of fur was curled over an ivory throw pillow at the foot of the bed. As Sabrina shifted and knocked the pillow to one side, the bundle of fur slid backwards, revealing it to be a black Burmese cat. Growling faintly, Salem gravitated to the nearest source of warmth: Sabrina's feet.
Groggily realizing that she could kick him off at any moment, the cat crawled onto the girl's belly, curling up with a faint lash of his tail. The girl's movements finally quieted. The only motion in the room came from shifting sunbeams, Sabrina's faint breathing, and a dozing Salem rising up and down with each breath.
It had been three days since the closure of the Gracey Manor case, and Sabrina had spent most of it sleeping. Drell had hurriedly explained to her aunts when she came back through the linen closet, exhausted and covered in scratches, bruises, and assorted cuts. The intense sleep was necessary to help regain her power, which had been nearly depleted during her mission. While Hilda chewed Drell out, Zelda had immediately sent Sabrina to bed and used some healing magic to hasten the recovery of the small wounds on her body.
Today was the last day she'd be allowed to stay at home; tomorrow, she'd have to go to school. Thankfully, Zelda had had the forethought at the mission's beginning to phone the school and explain that Sabrina was sick with a nasty stomach virus, and would not be back for a few days.
Downstairs, Zelda was zapping up breakfast for her niece, since she'd also need plenty of nutrition to speed the healing process. The tall woman paused for a second, tucking a wisp of blond hair behind one ear.
Zelda Spellman was a tall, elegant woman, possessing a lithe, delicate frame, and a small heart-shaped face. With long, almond-shaped ice-blue eyes, she bore an uncanny resemblance to her teenage niece. At this moment, she was scanning the meal she'd created, lips pursed in thought.
Why, of all things, would Sabrina be picked for a mission from the Other Realm? It makes no sense whatsoever…After all, she's still a minor, and she doesn't even have full control over her powers yet! But Drell hand-picked her for a risky assignment involving ghosts and black magic…
Why?
Zelda was no fool. And she would get those answers out of Drell one way or another. But that would have to wait for later—when Sabrina was both fully recovered and conscious. Then, perhaps with Hilda's help, the three would stand a better chance of getting the head of the Witches' Council to confess. As for now…
"Should I take the tray up to her now?" she wondered out loud. "Or have her eat here when she wakes up?" She eyed the food on the table. Of course, she could always levitate the tray and 'carry' it up the stairs, but that seemed like too much work…
"How about you ask her?" a rich tenor voice commented from the doorway. "Since I already woke her up." A small scrap of silky midnight fur oozed around the corner of the doorway. Slanted eyes the color of honey blinked up at the woman, with a pleading expression…most likely out of desire for a tasty breakfast.
Shaking her head, the slender woman turned back to the table and pointed up a place setting. "Salem!" she scolded as she worked. "You should have let her sleep some more to regain her energy, since-"
The staircase creaked as someone walked down. Zelda cut off abruptly as a slender white figure padded down the last few steps and carefully made its way through the living room, wobbling slightly.
Sabrina stopped at the kitchen door, clad in an ivory linen nightgown. She peered at the occupants with bleary eyes from under a curtain of thick, disheveled blond locks. She rubbed an eye with one fist. "Morning, Aunt Zelda."
"Good morning, dear." Zelda beamed fondly at her groggy niece. "Feeling better?"
"Sorta." She winced as she rubbed her back. "Aching muscles and a few stubborn cuts…that's about it. But let's talk about food. I'm starving."
"You're starving?" Salem muttered from his curled-up position on the floor.
Sabrina decided to ignore him as she shuffled into the kitchen, soft white slippers whispering across the linoleum. She stopped short of the table, eyes popping wide. "Please tell me all of that is my food."
Zelda puffed up with importance. "Yes, it is, and I'm proud to say I made every bit...magically, of course."
Sabrina, however, was thoroughly engrossed in staring at the food on the table before her. Zelda either was experiencing a severe Donna Reed mood swing, or she'd decided to make a breakfast buffet.
A large bowl of fruit was the centerpiece of the table, surrounded by a stack of toast, a small assortment of jams and jellies for said toast, a steaming bowl of oatmeal, fresh apple turnovers, a basket of muffins, and, flanked by plates of sausage and hash browns, a stack of… pancakes. Sabrina's favorite food in the entire world.
She somehow missed the glasses of milk, orange juice, and the vitamin C tablet at the corner, to make it part of a complete breakfast.
Sabrina decided that the best thing at this point would be to launch herself at the table, before her hunger progressed to the point where she was forced to eat Salem.
Zelda was precisely at the point of regaling the loving care that was spent deciding what kind of syrup to put on the table (she'd eventually decided on all of them—Sabrina wasn't choosy with her pancake toppings) when a white blur flung itself at the table, and started practically inhaling a stack of the golden pancakes.
The tall blonde sighed with frustration. "Sabrina, how many times have I told you? Use a napkin when you eat!"
A burgundy napkin appeared out of thin air, and plopped itself on Sabrina's lap. Zelda set her lips together in satisfaction and nodded while her niece continued to stuff her face like there was no tomorrow. "Much better."
Twenty frenzied minutes later, Sabrina slumped back in her chair, her nightgown twisting slightly around her figure. "Aaah. Why can't every Spirit Detective mission end like this?"
"I'm going to assume that's a rhetorical question," Salem sniped as he frowned at his industrial-brand cat food.
"Jealous?" Sabrina smirked, popping a few last grapes into her mouth.
Salem grumbled and turned to face his 'Pretty Kitty Lite—Now, With Added Taste!' "My life sucks."
"Poor baby." She zapped the dishes away, and wandered off to find Aunt Zelda.
She found said aunt pacing back and forth in the living room, one hand on her stomach, and chewing on the nails of the other hand. Zelda was in deep thought, and doubtless about something troubling.
It's probably about me, Sabrina realized with a start. She could remember Aunt Hilda screaming bloody murder at Drell for sending her on such a dangerous assignment. I bet she's trying to figure out why I got picked…heck, I'm wondering that myself. What was Drell's rationale for this?
Zelda walked into the end table and upset a lamp as she realized her niece was in the room. She blushed faintly as she straightened up.
"So, what have you been up to?" Sabrina raised an eyebrow. "Besides walking into furniture, I mean."
Zelda sighed, running a hand through her shag haircut. "Trying to think of an explanation for all this. Nothing seems to add up…"
"Tell me about it," Sabrina grumbled. Although it is just like Drell to make snap decisions without any rationale whatsoever…
"So what are you going to do about it?" Both women turned, startled, to face Salem. "You can stand here, pondering all day," the cat pointed out, "and arrive at no conclusions. After all, nine times out ten, thinking and talking are just ways to avoid doing anything."
Sabrina was about to retort when Zelda smacked one palm against the other. "He's absolutely right."
"I am?" Salem looked shocked. "I mean…of course I am!"
Sabrina rolled her eyes.
"I was going to wait for Hilda to get home from work, but there's no time like the present, as they say." Inspired, Zelda pointed up a cream-colored blazer over a black jumpsuit for herself. "We'll go see Drell, and drag the truth out of him if we have to." As an afterthought, she zapped an outfit for Sabrina: a purple tank top and jean skirt.
Beaming, the tall blonde marched off to the linen closet, which served the dual purpose of a tablecloth-and-bath towel holding place, but also a portal to the Other Realm. All Sabrina could do was pick up Salem and follow, praying that Zelda's new-found energy and zeal wouldn't get her in any more trouble than she had been.
It took a minimal amount of persuasion to get Cassandra, the Council secretary, to let them in. At the sight of Sabrina, the Gothic witch's eyes had nearly bugged out of her hand, and she'd hopped out of her seat to personally usher them to Drell's personal office.
Sabrina scowled at the memories that popped up at the sight of the door. The last time I was here, I ended up being thrown into a portal to fight ghosts. I wonder what will happen now?
Zelda hesitated, then lifted a small fist to rap on the door. Most of her initial enthusiasm had ebbed away at the actual prospect of facing the official Overlord himself. After all, he was notorious for changing his moods quicker than Sabrina could choose an outfit—and that's quick.
"Come in, come in," a sulky-sounding Drell muttered, his normally booming voice muffled by the door. "I don't have all day."
Sabrina chewed on her lip, as Zelda went to turn the knob.
Maybe he forgot all about what happened, and will apologize. …and then again, this is Drell we're talking about here.
The older woman ushered her niece in first, before stepping in and shutting the door with an ominous boom. The Head of the Witches' Council was seated before his massive desk, reviewing a stack of papers. He was scratching his head, furthering disheveling his curly brown hair. At the sight of the two Spellman women (and the one furry black cat), Drell flushed a shade of deep sienna, and tugged at his lacy cravat. "Uh…ladies...fancy seeing you here…" he croaked.
Zelda's eyes flashed, and narrowed into slits of frightening blue. "Don't play the fool, Drell. I want some answers, and I refuse to leave until I have them." She folded her arms, standing with an imperious air, and staring determinedly at the warlock.
Drell reached for a folder on his desk, and pick up a sheet of paper labeled 'Answers to the Eternal Questions.' "The train would come in at 4:15, the tree does make a sound, and the chicken was first."
Sabrina chuckled darkly. "Nice try." She lifted her chin, and tried to look imposing. "I want to know why you picked me to go to Gracey Manor instead of one of your employees." Unfortunately, she was much too soft-faced to pull off the glare, so she settled for squinting instead.
The warlock sighed, placing the folder down with deliberate carefulness. "You may want to sit down." He carefully wiped his glasses with a handkerchief, at first avoiding their eyes. "I hate confrontations," he mumbled childishly.
Zelda conjured up a pair of cushy upholstered chairs and sat down, arms crossed defiantly. Sabrina sighed and plopped onto the other chair, keeping Salem on her lap.
"Where to begin…" Drell rubbed his forehead.
"The conference?" Salem chirped helpfully.
Without removing his hand, Drell glared at the cat. "Yes. Thank you."
Salem preened.
Drell folded his hands on the desk and looked at Sabrina, then Zelda, before sighing quietly. "A few weeks ago, I attended an inter-dimensional meeting for heads of state. It was there that I ran into a young man who works as the head administrator for a realm called Reikai. He bragged to me about a special task force unit he employed that he called his 'Reikai Tantei'."
"Which means 'Spirit Detective'," Sabrina interjected, remembering her job title.
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes. They oversee a variety of functions, one such being a sort of special police unit. They work on assignments to help ensure the safety of the realms they come from."
Zelda frowned. "But I don't see what this has to do with Sabrina."
Drell held up a hand. "Please, Ms. Spellman. Let me continue." He reached over to the side of his desk to pull out a different folder; this time, it was marked with a red tab. He set it before himself and continued speaking.
"It sounded like a brilliant idea, except for the fact that we have rather few problems like Reikai has, owing to the excellent interrelations between the various Other Realm species. What we do have is an unusually large number of what some crime investigators call 'cold cases.' These are cases—crimes, murders, mysteries, and so forth—that have never been solved, and are simply filed away for long periods of time. Unsolved mysteries." He turned to look at Sabrina.
"Most of these cold cases we have documented involve supernatural phenomena in the Mortal Realm. Sometimes, a case is so insignificant that it's not worth a full-blown investigation. But as with the Gracey Manor case, we can sometimes upgrade the status of such cases. The Gracey Manor affair became a hot case when we started getting those reports of unusually large amounts of unregulated, unknown dark energy. That's when an investigator must be sent in immediately."
"But…" Sabrina trailed off, unsure of exactly how to phrase her thoughts. "I know it was a good thing, what we did; if Salem and I hadn't gone in, then Thorne would have been able to open up the Netherworld and create his cult of deathless 'gods'." She shuddered at the memory. "But how…why didn't the Council investigate it when he attacked the Manor back in the 1800s?" Her sapphire eyes flashed, filled with pain. "Couldn't you have prevented all those people from dying?" Because then Leota, Edward, and Elizabeth wouldn't have died so horribly…
Drell shook his head. "There were a lot of things going on at the time—plenty of unscrupulous witches trying to take advantage of the American Civil War, for instance. Even if we had noticed a massacre of humans in Louisiana then, we didn't have enough agents at that time to contain the situation."
He eyes fell shut as she slumped in her seat. So they really were doomed…
The warlock folded his hands. His hazel eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the despondent girl. "To continue; we have a large number of cases that now may need investigation. Unfortunately, we're short of personnel at the time—willing personnel—to do this. Wimps," he muttered. "So, that left one option to get the investigators we need."
"Physical force?" Salem dryly suggested.
Drell scowled at his insinuation. "Community service."
Sabrina nearly exploded, Salem falling with a yowl from her lap. "WHAT? How can you send someone into a death-trap of a case like that as COMMUNITY SERVICE? It's unethical! It's insane! It's…wait a minute. Why was I doing community service?"
The curly-haired warlock beamed broadly. "Now you're asking the important stuff."
Zelda's eyes went wide for a split second, before they became dangerous slits of silvery blue. "Drell…" she began warningly. "If you're doing what I think you're doing…"
"Then it's perfectly ethical."
"What is he doing?" Sabrina gripped her aunt's arm, panicking. "What? Is it ethical? Why do I have to do community service?"
The grin on Drell's face could have been a carbon copy of the sadistic smile Mr. Kraft wore while writing detention slips. "You've been enlisted in the Spirit Detective squad, Miss Spellman, due to your criminal record."
If someone would have politely informed her that she'd been drafted to fulfill community service because Mother Theresa had spoken through the President's dog in ancient Hebrew specifically requesting it (along with retrieving the Pope's dry-cleaning, of course), Sabrina would have been no less flabbergasted.
My…what? What…what is he talking about? I don't have a criminal record! I've never done anything bad in my entire life…haven't I?
Drell opened the red-tagged folder on his desk. "Since you were born, Miss Spellman, the Council has kept a record of you—standard governmental procedure, you understand. But since you began actively using magic, we've monitored your record closely, and especially as you began to break several rules."
"But…" Sabrina protested feebly. The words dropped off and died away as she began to remember all the mistakes and messes she'd gotten into, with the subsequent trips to Council to 'explain.' So that's what he means. I didn't know they were keeping tabs on me! This is not good.
"Now, we didn't actively prosecute, seeing as there was little to no malicious intent behind your actions; the fact that you were still a minor, and not fully trained, adding to that, of course. However, if you look at your record in the past two years, there has been a substantial amount of infractions, and they add up…"
The discount on the dress. Making the council have to rescue her from Circe. Misusing the Magic Cue Ball. Accidentally stealing that famous martial artist's skills.
All her mistakes, all her failures swirled before her eyes. Most of them had been purely accidents, but still…
The spells used to retaliate against Libby. The innumerable spells to make Harvey forget what he'd seen of her forbidden world.
One of her biggest problems was her tendency to ignore the directions and small print on anything. Consequently, she ended up casting spells that never worked the right way, or blew up—sometimes literally—in her face. Sabrina had also acquired a slight disregard for rules. They just didn't always seem to apply to her…
Zelda paled, looking at the list Drell had passed to her. Only a few major cases leaped out at her; most were minor infractions. She swallowed nervously, fingers shaking slightly around the paper. But it was a lengthy list, even for a teenager.
Drell, unfortunately, wasn't finished quite yet. "We've also looked at Sabrina's record in school," he added, pulling out her high school transcripts. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the teen. "Apparently, you've set the record for 'Most Detentions Held in a Single Year'."
"Give me a break!" Sabrina bristled, eyes snapping. "Mr. Kraft doesn't like me, and looks for any excuse to rag on me, and…I…kinda sleep in too late…" the last mumbled, so inaudible that Drell could barely hear it. Now I really am gonna be in trouble…
"Exactly what I'm talking about." he dropped the transcripts onto the desk with a solid thud. He folded his hands together, causing Sabrina to mentally groan. She'd seen him do that too many times before a patronizing lecture. "Now, let me explain why I've picked you to become a Spirit Detective."
"Because she's a juvenile delinquent?" Salem suggested, who had been quiet the entire time.
Drell, Sabrina, and Zelda all glared at the cat, who shrank away under the safety of a chair. "Just kidding…"
"Well, not so much a 'juvenile delinquent' as a 'troubled youth'," Drell explained.
"I'm not relieved," Sabrina muttered.
Zelda waved at Sabrina to hush, turning to the warlock. "So what you're hinting at is that, by serving community service in this program, Sabrina can erase the marks on her record?"
"Yes. Already, you can see at least five or six marks were dropped with the completion of the Gracey Case. She'll need to stay longer in this department to completely expunge all the marks from her record, but it isn't impossible."
"And how am I supposed to do all this with school?" Sabrina snapped. "If you haven't forgotten, I'm a senior now. And I have to get into college."
"That'll have to wait," Drell shook his head, gesturing at the folder. "From the length of your list, it'll take at least a year to complete this—unless you'd like to be a Spirit Detective while in college, that is."
Sabrina glared at him. Sure, let's forget about my future here…
Zelda touched her niece's arm. Sympathy, not anger or disappointment, touched the lines of her face. "We'll discuss this at home," she said quietly.
The teenage witch scowled and slouched back in her chair. This is incredibly unfair. But then again, what choice do I have?
"So until further notice, you will be working off your community service debt as the Spirit Detective of the Other Realm." The beefy warlock made a few adjustments to Sabrina's file, preparing to give it a stamp of approval.
"With a few conditions."
Drell looked up, surprised. His detective was no longer pouting or glaring, but sitting calmly, arms crossed and leveling a rational look at him. Perhaps she was shrewder than he had given her credit for… "State your terms." And if they were too ridiculous, he could always find some loophole to negate it.
"I want you to give me sufficient notice before each case, so I can have time to prepare beforehand. I do live in the Mortal Realm, after all, and people tend to ask questions when you run off somewhere at the drop of a hat."
Drell pursed his lips. "But only for a period deemed relevant. For something vitally important, you may have no prior notification."
The teen nodded. "I'm going to need some sort of training. I was damn lucky that I could defend myself last case, but I'm going to bet this won't hold true in the future."
"I'll look into it," Drell mumbled, writing on a sticky note. "Anything else you require?" He sighed, a note of sarcasm drifting in his voice.
"Just one more thing." The blond girl pushed herself out of the chair and ambled to the door, her aunt and cat following a beat later. She paused and turned around. "I want a partner. I'm not going on the next mission alone."
"You had Mr. Saberhägen, here," Drell languidly gestured at the cat.
"I mean a partner who can do magic, not one who rides around in my backpack and fights with the guide."
Salem pouted. "I did…stuff." Can't remember most of it, but that's beside the point.
Zelda shook her head, amused, as she picked him up. "I'm sure you did. Most of it probably involved complaining and sitting."
Drell massaged his forehead as Sabrina tried her best to imitate the imposing stare Libby often wore. It still wasn't working. "I'll look into it." He peered at her over his horn-rimmed glasses. "Any preferences, to make my life easier?" he added, sarcastically.
"I can bet," Salem purred slightly, smirking. "Between the ages of 16 and 21, male, and hot?"
Sabrina clenched her fist as she fought to keep down a blush. "Salem, shut up." When we get home, you are sooooo dead.
The warlock smirked as he made a few pencil notes on Sabrina's file. "I'll keep that in mind."
I bet you will, Drell…
::snicker::
You may or may not know that the chapter title is an allusion to the anime Inuyasha. It's also a slight hint as to the content of the next chapter. (I do like to make allusions to other shows occasionally; I hope it's not disruptive to the story flow.)
Yes, Sabrina does get into quite a bit of trouble at school, since she seems to be chronically late. And having the vice-principal as your enemy doesn't make things easier.
As a side note (forgot to mention it before), inner dialogue is noted in Italics, as are non-English words (you'll see later). So, any time you see italicized words, a character is thinking to themselves. Bold is for emphasis. Lines are to denote scene changes or the end of the chapter (I always put a line between the end of the chapter and the Author Note).
I used to do Reader Review Responses at the end of each chapter, but I've been informed that doesn't allow those anymore. Suffice to say, I do read each review, and I take all feedback seriously. If any reader has a question about the story, I will try to address it in an Author Note (I have then at the end of each chapter). Suggestions are always considered, but I may not be able to use them; please do not take it personally if I turn down a suggestion.
Next chapter: Sabrina and Aunt Zelda head home for a serious chat, as Drell decides to go ahead and recruit Sabrina's partner…