Spell Maven Mysteries- The Complete Series

by J L Collins

  “Melanda? Who is it?” a much deeper voice called out from behind her. Another dwarf, this time a man with a fully white beard pulled the door open further, looking irritated at first until he saw how many stood here. He cleared his throat. “Ahem. How can we help you, Inquisitor?”

  Uncle Gardner sighed and pulled something from his pocket with his free hand. “Under the MARC regulation number 78-3, I hereby state my intention to arrest you, Gianni Renaldi, and Benito Renaldi. If you come quietly so we can maintain a sense of order, we will not be required to use force against you. However—” he said, cutting off the male dwarf’s spluttering, “if you try to escape, we will have no choice but to use full force against you in the name of the law.”

  “How dare you!” the dwarf said, puffing out his chest. “My wife and I have done absolutely nothing wrong. You’ve got the wrong house!”

  Uncle Gardner stuffed the order back into his cloak, sighing deeply this time. “It’s over, Renaldi. The traces of your change are visible with this.” He removed a tiny iris-colored lens that even I hadn’t realized he had on.

  “Impressive,” I mumbled to myself.

  The looks of fear and agitation slid off the dwarves’ faces like a mask, melting into gazes of absolute indifference. It was crazy to witness something like that—these two were clearly smarter than we gave them credit for.

  “Arrest us? For what? We’ve done nothing wrong,” the ‘female dwarf’ said, using his normal voice.

  His brother turned to him, a smirk on his face. “More oppression against the non-Witches. How utterly predictable.”

  I ground my teeth together. The truth was that there had been plenty of instances of that very thing—where the MARC had prejudiced Witches running things behind-the-scenes. It was a terrible period for Spell Haven. But that was nearly three hundred years ago, and the times and opinions had certainly changed for the better. I was proud of how utterly fair and just Uncle Gardner ran things in his department—the only people who were convicted of wrong doing deserved it based on their actions, not on their birth. For these two fools to throw it in my uncle’s face like that made it look bad on those who had received such grievous treatment. I shook my head, keeping my thoughts to myself.

  Uncle Gardner took a step forward, the restraint firmly in both hands now. “Come now willingly. I will not give you another warning.”

  The two dwarves scanned the scene, their beady dark eyes glittering. They both shrugged and met Uncle Gardner over the threshold, their arms outstretched.

  “If you insist,” the one with the beard said. “I’ll prove we didn’t do anything. Then you’ll have no choice but to free us.”

  “We shall see,” Uncle Gardner said, opening the restraints as Rufio did the same in front of the other brother.

  The glow of the floating orb that circled around us, and the shimmering light of the restraints were the only sources of light. They cast an eerie glow across everyone’s faces, the dwarves especially, throwing shadows that seemed even more ominous. The moment their faces twitched I surged forward.

  Both dwarves shot several feet up and out, crashing through the threshold in an instant with bodies rough and rotund, covered in thick bumps. In the chaos and shock, now ogres, they picked up both Rufio and Uncle Gardner, launching them halfway across the property, narrowly missing the boulders sticking out of the ground.

  I shoved past the Shadow Hands who were trying to restrain the ogres with magic, racing over to Uncle Gardner. “No!”

  He was slowly pulling himself up off the ground, gasping for breath with blood dripping down the corner of his mouth. I slid to his side, tilting his head gingerly from side to side to check his condition. “Are you okay?”

  A groan escaped his throat. “Help me up.”

  Wasting no time as the sounds of battling echoed behind me, I quickly helped him to a stand. I didn’t like the way he was listing too far to the left to stand on his own well enough.

  “Go. I know you want to,” he said through gritted teeth. “Regulations be damned.”

  I was off without another word, obeying the direct command. Really, he didn’t even need to ask—I was already determined to take these two down.

  Each Shadow Hand was stunning the ogres. Elemental stuns like fire and water barely made a dent against the ogres. Ogre skin is very resilient, and made it almost impossible for a spell to break through to cause any damage.

  One Shadow Hand, thinking outside the box, had created a wooden cage of sorts that would at least hold one of the brothers, and was trying to magic the wood just like the restraints, but before she got a chance to finish sealing the perimeter of the spell, one of the brothers knocked through the wood, sending huge splinters through the air. The Shadow Hand had just managed to dive out of the way to avoid getting impaled.

  With a sinister grin, the other brother was advancing on a Witch who had tripped trying to run from a rebounding spell. He picked up a Witch-sized boulder, hoisting it up over his shoulders before trying to crash it down over the top of the fallen Shadow Hand. But the Witch was quick, the magic shooting from his fingers casting a smaller protective bubble around him that the heavy boulder rebounded off of, much to the brother’s surprise. The unexpected weight shift threw him off-balance, the boulder crashing down on his own head as he dropped it. It stunned him momentarily enough for the Shadow Hand to roll away.

  The other brother raced over from behind the property, several of the Shadow Hands giving chase. “Brother!” he shouted, his gravelly voice like rocks tumbling against one another. “Inside! They have the place domed!”

  He wasn’t wrong. A barely noticeable shimmer in the air right along the edge of the property where it started to descend told me that Uncle Gardner must have enchanted a massive boundary protection spell around us, making sure no one could get in or out. A small bit of relief trickled through me, thankful that it was all coming to a head now no matter what.

  I took my wand out, preparing myself with basic protective incantations, mumbling each one under my breath as my skin sizzled with energy.

  For a moment it seemed that the brother who had run up on the other, had disappeared in thin air, but the flutter of tiny wings and a streak of pearly white zoomed through the air, telling me otherwise.

  The second brother, though still shaking his head clear from the boulder, vanished as well. In his wake, a thin stream of that same pearly white shot toward the house.

  “They’ve changed! Be on your lookout—they’re sylphs!” I shouted, pointing toward the house. “Follow me!”

  It didn’t matter that I was pretty much a nobody, the still-standing Shadow Hands followed anyway, all five of us slipping inside the house.

  Using the light from the tip of my wand, I examined everything ahead of me. The house was just as worn-down and abandoned-looking as I had imagined it to be from the outside. It was eerily quiet, the only noise the sound of our shifting footsteps on the old wood floors. I glanced over my shoulder, nodding for everyone to spread out.

  There was no telling where the Renaldis were. The rickety staircase led to an overlooking landing where two doors on either side of it stood open. The dark kitchen was off to the left in front of me, while the sitting room complete with dusty furniture was off to the right. I decided to head to the left.

  Plates were left on top of the Formica-topped table, the food half-eaten. Apparently, we had interrupted their dinner and not their sleep.

  My gaze swept from side to side. Sylphs were bioluminescent creatures who glowed at night. They were small enough to fit in the palm of your hand, which made them incredibly difficult to find in a place like this. I pulled cabinets open slowly, my wand at the ready. I didn’t have the restraints with me, but as an Alchemist, I was trained much more in the ways of herbs and their magical properties…

  I grabbed the small vial full of red liquid from my other pocket, surveying it for a moment. Frog’s blood, dittany, tarrowweed, and mugwort. Just enough to knock out a
Changeling. I’d prepared it back at the Apothecarium before I’d met up with Uncle Gardner. You know… just in case.

  My only hope was that I wasn’t met with both brothers, and that I was in a position to dose whichever one I got to first. They weren’t great odds, but I was willing to take them.

  Nudging an old shoe with my toe, I tensed but nothing happened. After checking in every nook and cranny I could find in the small kitchen, I frowned.

  If it were me… I wouldn’t find a tiny hiding spot. I’d find somewhere more open to hide in a dark corner so I’d have enough space to jump out and shapeshift into a much more dangerous creature. They’d need to fight their way out of here if they wanted a chance, and the only way to do that was to get rid of the barrier spell.

  And that meant getting rid of the spell’s caster.

  A dulled brass doorknob caught my attention, the light of my wand gleaming off of it. There was a small landing off the other side of the kitchen that led to another door. It was closed, and I approached carefully, my heart racing. A number of things could be on the other side. And I had no idea which one to be prepared for.

  I stood with my legs and shoulders squared off, ready as I could be given the situation, and twisted the knob slowly. The light from my wand barely made a dent in the darkness that seemed to descend down some steps. A basement. Because of course.

  “Nothing screams ‘I’m evil’ quite like a creepy old basement,” I whispered.

  My nerves were on edge as I made my way down the unforgiving stairs, the wood groaning under my weight with each step. I was all too aware of pretty much every horror movie cliché about basements and felt the constant fear of something grabbing my ankles from between the steps. There was a small amount relief that fell away as I finally stepped on solid ground again.

  The basement was smaller than I thought it would be, and mostly filled with moldy-looking boxes. Heaps of junk spilled out of some of the boxes, as well as some old appliances shoved up against a far wall. It was like the Renaldis had used the basement as their own personal trash can. The stench pretty much supported this idea.

  With my heart still pumping overtime and my senses super-charged for protection, I started sifting through the junk. As sylphs they could really be anywhere…

  Something flashed in my peripheral and I spun on the spot, finding nothing but empty air. As gross as this place was, that was no dust mote. I kept a casual look on my face, continuing closer to the corner I saw the flash of light in.

  I took about three steps closer, my heart fluttering under my skin, all of my senses screaming at me, when a massive dark shape flung itself at me, knocking the air out of my lungs as it pinned me down on the unforgiving stone floor. The matted fur and glowing amber eyes gave it away immediately.

  Werewolf.

  Hot saliva dripped from his fangs as he pressed his weight against me, crushing the air out of my chest. I pushed as hard as I could, summoning the extra strength enchantment I’d casted on myself earlier. But he was in werewolf form—and werewolves were much stronger than Witches. I pushed him again, just enough to avoid the snap of his jaws barely an inch away from my face. I screeched, shoving at his shoulders.

  “You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” he growled, baring his teeth in some sort of gross smile.

  “Nor do you,” a voice simply said from somewhere behind me. The weight of the werewolf was gone and he floated upward in a swirl of glittering blue magic, his arms jerked backward behind him.

  Uncle Gardner came into view with a grim look of satisfaction as he slapped the magicked restraints on the werewolf who was still floating now several feet off the ground. The body shifted again, this time into a thin man with sandy-colored hair and golden eyes. In his true form, Gianni Renaldi writhed against the restraint, still wearing a snarl on his face.

  “Put me down!” he shouted.

  I slid out from underneath him, wiping the disgusting drool off of me as I stood back up. I patted my pocket and placed the vial of sleeping draught into Uncle Gardner’s hand. “This ought to shut him up.”

  “Ah. A concoction of my sister’s no doubt?”

  “You betcha. Though I mixed it myself. Sometimes being an Alchemist comes in handy,” I said, repeating words he had told me long ago when I faced pushback about being the only Alchemist joining a class of Siren Shadow Hands.

  “Indeed, it does.” He smiled at me before tipping the contents of the vial into the squirming Changeling’s mouth, slapping the brother’s cheek lightly. “Oíche mhaith, Renaldi. Good night.”

  Gianni Renaldi’s body went slack and his eyelids slowly closed as Uncle Gardner began directing his body away from the fallen boxes of junk and up the staircase back into the room above.

  With both brothers apparently knocked unconscious (Benito had apparently taken three psychic stunning spells at once), it felt like the entire town was outside, watching as we sent them into the proper carriage transport to take them to prison. With all the commotion, I wasn’t really surprised.

  “Rourke’s murderers locked away, and it’s only three o’clock in the morning,” Uncle Gardner said, sounding much more chipper than I’d heard him in a long time. “I think it’s time for some coffee, don’t you?”

  I smiled back. “That and a very long shower.”

  23

  Back to Business

  “Ow.” The long scratch down my collarbone stung as I dabbed it with the strong-smelling poultice I found while rummaging around in Aunt Bedelia’s potion cabinet. The angry and inflamed wound cooled off after a moment, the skin losing some of the heat and throbbing pain as the medicine seeped deeper.

  “Better?” Uncle Gardner was leaning up against a wall of jars full of different herbs, not looking much better off.

  I nodded, glad that the poultice took the edge off. “I’ll live. That’s the important part.”

  “Now where have I heard that before?” Aunt Bedelia mumbled, shaking her head. “I still think you should have taken more people with you. Especially dealing with those vile beings. They ought to go back to the old ways with the two of them.” My aunt was one of the most laid-back and mild-mannered people I knew, so when she of all people suggested reverting to the old ways of execution for murder, it meant something. It was hard to disagree with her, though I didn’t relish the idea of anyone’s death to be honest. Even if they deserved it.

  She offered both me and Uncle Gardner steaming mugs. “Careful now. That’s my strong brew. I figure the two of you want to stay up long enough to wait for the High Judge’s judgment on the case. Though I think it’s pretty clear where the Renaldis are headed.”

  I slumped down into the chair at the little table, taking care not to bang my already banged-up elbow down on the tabletop. “Thanks Aunt Bee.” My eyes nearly bugged out of my head from the first sip—sure it was hot, but when she said strong, she meant strong. If I hadn’t been exhausted to the point of passing out, I was sure it would’ve been all down the front of my shirt.

  She gave me a cheeky grin. “I tried to warn you.”

  I took a much smaller sip this time. “Mm-hm.”

  Uncle Gardner barely had time to commiserate with me on Aunt Bee’s coffee before a blazing red ball of flame burst to life a few feet in front of him.

  “Sir. The Archmage is requesting to speak to you at once. In private. Do you have a moment?” the voice called from the ball of flame. “It sounded important.”

  “Absolutely. Tell him I will fire message him back in just a moment.” He turned to us as the flame went out, his eyes narrowed. “That’ll be the Archmage along with the High Judge. Bedelia, I hope you don’t mind me using your private stock room for this.”

  She waved him off. “Of course, dear. Go right ahead.”

  I yawned, earning the side-eye from her. “Do you really mean to tell me that my strong brew isn’t strong enough?”

  I took another slow sip, looking at her through the steam. “I think it’s just a long time co
ming, honestly. Now that we know who killed Rourke and even took them in, it feels a little . . . overwhelming. But then again,” I started, taking another sip and enjoying the warmth spreading across my chest, “this isn’t the end of things. We still need to find the Book of the Wise. And I’m still worried about the weird magic leaks.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “This is true. Though with as tight as things have been for Gardner’s team, I’m sure they will make short work of the other two things now that they have one less thing to worry about.”

  “Yeah, that’s my hope as well. With the Renaldis in jail, we might coax the location of the book out of them.”

  Aunt Bee tapped her long nails on the front display case that ran along half the wall. “My brother can definitely be persuasive when the situation calls for it. Did I ever tell you about how he and your father were fishing in Hag’s Pond and they came home all muddy? My mother was beside herself! We were meant to be on our way to a townhall meeting—Papa was the High Judge as you might remember. Gardner and Nathaniel were supposed to be washing up but instead, Gardner suggested they go fishing in the pond.” A slow grin spread across her face.

  “Mama was so angry with them because we were due at the town hall right away, and she had no time to get them fresh-faced and dressed well enough. Gardner, the clever thing he is, managed to convince Mama that the two of them didn’t need to go because I, being their older sister and oh so responsible, could watch us while her and Papa had a grand time at the town hall without having to worry about everyone staring at his and Nathaniel’s appearance. Mind you, I’d been looking forward to this town meeting in particular because there was a boy I was secretly pining after who’d be there and I wanted to make a good impression.”

  She pursed her lips. I could see where this was going.

  “I got all dressed up for this meeting—heck, I rolled my hair, put on some of Mama’s perfume even. I was fourteen and bound and determined to get Edmund to pay attention to me. All it took was a few words from Gardner and my chances of making Edmund swoon had disappeared just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, I was so mad, Gwennie. Mama agreed with the little bugger and actually thanked him for suggesting it! Can you believe it? I certainly couldn’t. I was going to make him regret it too. But even as mad as I was, he got both himself and Nathaniel cleaned up and ready for bed without any help on my part. When I went to tell him goodnight . . . and possibly bite his head off . . . he told me he was sorry but he was doing me a favor.”