I sat in her office looking out at the snow capped mountains far in the west। She looked a great deal like Jackie Kennedy - the pink dress was too much। The perfect pumps
"How can you be a witch" I asked. "No witch I know wears Chanel. Or has office hours."
"So many witches still shop the thrift stores," she said, rolling her eyes to look out at the mountains too. "Goodwill is some sort of badge of honor. Like its a crime to look good. Besides, you don't know any witches - do you?"
"So why do I have an appointment with a witch?" I asked.
"You called me," she said pulling at the hem of her skirt. "Do tell."
"Others told me you could help with the Shadows."
"Ah, the Shadows. They are hard to be rid of aren't they. Quite unpleasant that lot. Were you followed here?"
"Not the way I drive."
"So they lie in wait somewhere. They are quite patient and cunning. In the morning gloom perhaps or the chill of the moon."
"I have all these potions," I said dumping out my satchel of blue and green and iridescent bottles that seemed to waver on the table like a bad hologram. A Shadow passed quickly through the room, and I looked at her; many would have just thought it was a cloud scuttling across the afternoon sun. But she knew.
"You have done many battles. The Shadows have left their scars upon you. It appears that they captured you completely at one time and tortured you. They used your mother against you as well."
"How can you tell that?"
"I can see the spot just above your heart where she struck you with a long thin blade. A piece of it is still lodged close within. It must ache on cold nights."
I looked down at my burnished armor, metallic gloves, iPod at my side. "I still don't understand how the blade made it through." Through the windows I could see that the darkness was descending, watch fires began to appear across the City.
"A mother's love," she whispered, "cuts like no other knife."