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Hooked On A Witch
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She held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “I’d appreciate you returning my glass to me.”
“Yours, huh? Do you know what this piece is?”
 “Of course, I know it’s a scrying glass.”
“Do you know how it works? What it requires to work it?” She chewed on her lower lip. “Not really. Do you? I’d appreciate afew hints.”
He swiped a hand across his face, relieved she didn’t entirely know what she’d acquired. That didn’t erase her intent to use it, though. “This is the Delmindes scrying glass. It’s dangerous.” For decades, he’d searched for this piece to confiscate it, to put it into his vault of objects best never used again, but which couldn’t be destroyed. “It requires death to scry the secret that’s being sought.”
“Death? What kind of death? Like sacrificing a chicken or some thing ?”
“It’s black magic.”
“Okay, I’ll kill a chicken or a duck.”
Surprised, he laughed. “A duck?”
She remained serious. The woman planned to try to power a dark magical item with a duck’s death.
“I don’t want to kill a duck, but there are plenty of dumb ducks noone will miss. There’s one at the house who keeps chewing the land- scape lights. She’s bound for electrocution since all the lights are hard wired.”

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