Magic & Mayhem

by Annabel Chase

  I turned to the friendly-looking troll standing next to me. "Do they always draw so many spectators?"

  He chuckled. "They do when Jordy Hoskins is on the field. She's Starry Hollow’s great hope for the colony championship title this year."

  So Jordy truly was a star athlete. I thought Cindy was exaggerating. “Which one is she?"

  He pointed to the far end of the field. "Brown ponytail. Moves like a tornado. I've never seen a kid that intense. Then again, consider the source."

  I frowned. "The source?"

  He pointed again, this time to the edge of the field closest to us. “Check out her dad right there. The guy's a legend. No one’s surprised that his daughter is so insanely good. I hear he trains her hard, though.” He clucked his tongue. “I wouldn’t trade places with Jordy Hoskins for all the trophies in the world.”

  I watched as Jordy’s dad paced the length of the field, gesticulating wildly as she grabbed the ball and zoomed toward the goalposts.

  "Her dad was an athlete, too?” I asked.

  The troll nodded and I tried not to be distracted by his excessively wide nose. I could lose PP3 in one of his nostrils.

  “He led the team to the championships when he was in school,” the troll said. “I remember coming to watch him play when my older sister went here. Everyone thought he would go pro."

  “But he didn’t?” I queried.

  “Nope. A knee injury. Happens to a lot of centaurs.”

  “That’s too bad,” I said. “What does he do now?”

  “Works over at the healer’s office as an assistant. I heard he wanted to train as a healer, but he didn’t have the grades.”

  “So healers can be centaurs?” I asked.

  The troll looked at me sideways. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Why would you think they couldn’t? Got a thing about big guys not being capable?”

  “Absolutely not,” I said quickly. “I just didn’t realize it was open to anyone. I thought maybe only certain paranormals could be healers, like druids.”

  “That’s racist,” the troll said, and turned his attention back to the field.

  Even though I had no inkling what was happening on the field, I could tell Jordy was a natural talent. The combination of innate ability and discipline was sure to serve her well. Somewhere in the distance, bells chimed and the teams retreated to the sidelines for a break. Jordy went straight to her father. He gave her a jubilant fist bump and I could tell from her broad smile that she was happy to have pleased him. For a brief moment, I pictured my own dad and my chest tightened. Although I wasn’t an award-winning athlete or an academic scholar, I liked to think I made him proud in my own way. I wondered whether he’d be upset to know I was in Starry Hollow now, after all his efforts to keep me away.

  "They seem to have a good relationship," I said, blinking back a tear. Get a grip, Ember, I chastised myself. This wasn’t Field of Dreams. I needed to focus on the task at hand.

  The troll nodded emphatically. "Oh, yeah. You don't grow them much closer than Jordy and Bruce. Everyone thought he'd be so disappointed not to have a son to follow in his hoofsteps, but Jordy was a gift from the gods."

  “She’s an only child?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I heard from another parent that Jordy’s mom couldn’t have any more kids after Jordy. Some kind of complications during the birth.”

  Ouch. I didn’t envy her complicated delivery. My heart went out to any woman who suffered during pregnancy or childbirth. Society acted like it should be the easiest, most natural event in the world, but it really wasn’t for a lot of women. I still remembered trying desperately to breastfeed Marley and failing miserably. I’d felt so ashamed, like I wasn’t a good mother. At times, I still struggled with feeling like I wasn’t good enough for Marley. That she deserved better.

  The team enjoyed a brief huddle before returning to the field. I got the impression that I wouldn’t be able to talk to Jordy during the game, so I decided to simply watch and see what I could learn.

  What I learned was that Jordy had the focus of an Olympian gymnast on the balance beam. She was unstoppable. I wasn’t a sports fan, but even I appreciated the skills she possessed. She bobbed, she weaved, and she outsmarted her opponents on the field. I almost felt sorry for her teammates. It was clearly the Jordy Hoskins Show out there and they were used to it.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a young satyr lingering on the sidelines. His necklace of crystals sparkled in the sunlight.

  “Is that Spencer?” I asked the troll.

  “I don’t know his name, but I’ve seen him with Jordy around town. They run in a little gang.” He hesitated. “The dead elf, too. Clover…”

  “Grover,” I corrected him.

  The troll shook his head. “I hope they catch whoever did it soon. Makes you nervous to walk alone at night.”

  I highly doubted the huge troll worried about walking alone at night, but I thought it would be rude to argue the point.

  “I think I’ll go say hi,” I said. “Nice talking to you.” I threaded my way through the onlookers to where Spencer was standing. He seemed to be alone.

  He gave me a cursory glance. “You look familiar. Are you Benny’s mom?”

  “Nope. Benny would not be on my list of favorite names,” I said.

  His brow wrinkled. “What’s wrong with Benny?”

  “Nothing,” I replied. “It’s just not a name for a kid. I guess if it’s short for Benjamin…” I shook my head. “Nope. Even then I’d call him Ben or maybe Benji. Benny is a no-go.”

  Spencer inched away from me.

  “You’re Spencer, right?” I asked.

  Now he really wanted to escape. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “Are you here to watch Jordy play?”

  He gave me serious side-eye. “Maybe. Why?”

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  He tugged on his necklace. “No, we’re just friends.”

  “How about Grover?” I asked. “Was he involved with Jordy?”

  Spencer’s hand dropped to his side. “Who are you again?”

  “Ember Rose. I write for the local paper and I’m doing a story on Grover. I want to talk about his life and that includes his friends.”

  Spencer seemed to relax. “Right. No, Jordy and Grover were friends. The four of us grew up together.”

  “Four?” I queried. “You mean Aldo?”

  “Yeah. You talked to him already, didn’t you?”

  “I did,” I replied. “He told you about it?”

  Spencer lowered his gaze to the grass. “Of course. It’s not every day you talk to the sheriff and a reporter about your dead friend. Kinda newsworthy.”

  “I hear the four of you had a lot of late nights recently,” I said. “Grover was having trouble keeping up in school.”

  Spencer kicked the dirt with his hoof. “So what? We’re teenagers. We’re supposed to stay out late.”

  I dropped my voice. “Are you supposed to do drugs, too?” I caught his guilty expression before he managed to hide it.

  “We’re not into stuff like that,” he said.

  “What about your out-of-body experiences?” I asked.

  His brow lifted. “How do you know about that? Who’s been talking to you? Aldo?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve been investigating Grover’s last few weeks. I’ve heard a lot of things. Maybe you can clarify some of them for me.”

  Spencer glanced nervously at the field. “I don’t think so.”

  I followed his gaze to where Jordy was high-giving her dad again. “You don’t want Jordy to know you’ve talked to me? Is that it?”

  Spencer’s jaw tensed. “There’s nothing to say.”

  “Listen, I’ve had out-of-body experiences,” I said quietly. “I know what it’s like.” Of course, mine was from astral projection, not drugs, but Spencer didn’t need to know that.

  He seemed surprised. “Yeah? It’s cool, right? Like touching the faces of the gods.”

&n
bsp; My experience involved moving around the woods like a snail without a shell, but, sure, let’s go with faces of the gods. “Absolutely. Was Grover into it? I know the experience can freak some paranormals out. Not everyone’s cut out for living on the edge.”

  Spencer appeared to warm to my attitude. “They don’t get it. Grover did, though. He was hooked. He…” Spencer stopped abruptly. “Good game, Jordy. Hey, Bruce.”

  The centaur flared his nostrils. “Spencer. You were supposed to be watching the game to give Jordy feedback on her throwing. That was your one task.”

  “Sorry,” Spencer mumbled. “I got to talking…”

  Bruce fixed his attention on me. “Sorry to interrupt, but we take matchball very seriously.”

  Jordy’s hand rested on her hip. “And Spencer’s supposed to be helping. Everyone wants this championship.”

  “I saw most of it,” Spencer said. “We only talked for a couple of minutes.”

  I thrust out my hand and shook the centaur’s. “Ember Rose. Nice to meet you both. Great game, Jordy. You have amazing skills.”

  Bruce ruffled his daughter’s hair. “She sure does. Just like her old man.”

  She swatted his hand away. “It isn’t all genetic, you know. I work hard.”

  “Because I make you work hard,” Bruce said. “Gotta keep up the pressure.”

  “Sounds too intense for me,” I said. “I’m more about the Jacuzzi bath afterward.”

  I seemed to shrink two sizes in Bruce’s eyes. “That’s paranormal nature,” he said. “Nobody wants to push the envelope. It’s all about the easy road these days.”

  Sheesh. I was suddenly grateful for my father’s relaxed approach to life. Jordy was liable to burn out before her twenty-first birthday.

  “I don’t know about here, but, in the human world, stress is a real killer,” I told them. “There’s something to be said for chilling out.”

  “I’ll chill out when I’m dead,” Jordy said, and her brown eyes rounded. “I didn’t mean that.” Her hand flew to cover her mouth.

  Bruce patted her shoulder. “We’re all still at a loss over Grover. That’s why concentrating on matchball is so important. It gives you something to focus on.”

  “My counselor says I can use it as a coping device,” Jordy said.

  “That’s smart,” I replied. “What about you, Spencer? How have you been coping?”

  Spencer seemed to be at a loss for words. “I meditate,” he finally said. “I take a yoga class with Iris.”

  “The coven’s High Priestess?” I queried.

  Spencer snapped his fingers. “That’s her. Nice lady. She’s got a real calming presence.”

  “If you were any calmer, you’d be asleep,” Bruce said, and Spencer’s face reddened.

  I could tell I wouldn’t get any more information out of Spencer or Jordy with a parental figure around. I decided to cut my losses.

  “It was great to meet you,” I said. “Good luck with the championships.”

  “Thank you,” Jordy said. “I want to win so I can dedicate the trophy to Grover. He used to come to all my games.”

  “That’s sweet,” I said. “I bet he would’ve liked that.”

  “He was easy to please,” Jordy said. “Never objected to anything.”

  “Come on, Jordy,” her father said. “We need to get back to the team.” He crooked a finger at Spencer. “You too, boy. Time to make yourself useful.”

  Spencer hurried after the father-daughter dynamic duo. I’d need to do a little digging on the group’s out-of-body experiences. Then again, since there weren’t any drugs identified in the dead elf’s system, his death couldn’t have been the result of an overdose. Nobody took wolfsbane or nightshade to get high.

  As I left the field, my thoughts shifted to my dad. He never wanted me to be the ‘best’ at anything. He only wanted me to be the best version of me. I realized that it was exactly the way I felt about Marley. Although she was smarter and more capable than most kids her age, I didn’t feel the need to push her in any given direction. She’d find her own path, just as I found mine…Okay, maybe I was still finding mine, but, I had to admit, finding it was half the fun.

  Thirty minutes later, I found myself face-to-face with my own intense coach in the woods behind Rose Cottage. Marigold marched in front of me, hands clasped behind her back like the cheerleader-cum-drill sergeant she aspired to be. “You’ve been doing very well with astral projection. Therefore, I propose we take a break from it and explore another skill.”

  I’d recently learned to separate my consciousness from my body and essentially have it walk around like a ghost. I had to admit, it was one of the coolest things I’d learned to do as a witch. I kept waiting for the right opportunity to freak out Marley, but she’d made such strides with her anxiety, I refused to be the one to set her back for the sake of a joke.

  I placed my hands on my hips. “Are you tired of my astral projecting already?”

  “Am I tired of watching you jump out from behind a tree and say ‘boo’?” Marigold gave a mock laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. I treasure those moments with you.”

  “Now you’re being grumpy,” I accused.

  “Not at all,” she replied. “Why don’t we continue with telekinesis today? You can try to lift something heavier than a branch. Exercise those psychic muscles.”

  I rubbed my palms together. “I’m down with that.” Telekinesis was also a pretty amazing psychic skill. Who wouldn’t want to move objects just by thinking about them? I was living the dream.

  “Should we start small again and work our way up?” Marigold proposed.

  “Do I look like an amateur to you?”

  Marigold folded her arms. “Very much so, as a matter fact.”

  “Fine,” I huffed. “I’ll start with that twig over there.” I pointed to an anemic twig at the base of a live oak tree. I focused my will and tried to lift the twig into the air.

  “You’re doing that weird thing with your eyes again,” Marigold said.

  My concentration broke and I glared at my instructor. “I do not do weird things with my eyes.”

  “That’s because you can’t see yourself,” Marigold replied smoothly. “I’ll try to record you one of these days so you can see how absurd you look.”

  Her comment reminded me of Thomas’s desire to capture his likeness while asleep. “Did you see the sand sculptures?”

  “Of course,” Marigold replied. “Florian was in charge. I believe the entire coven was threatened with bodily harm if we didn’t show our support.”

  I must’ve missed that memo. “You know Marley and I found the dead body in the sand casket, right?”

  “Naturally,” Marigold replied. “News like that travels at the speed of light. How is Marley?”

  “She’s okay,” I said. “I managed to shield her from it. It was a creepy moment, though. It’s been haunting me, that’s for sure.”

  “And the investigation is ongoing?”

  “It is.” I paused. “Can you think of any reason why paranormals would use vampire blood aside from trying to turn someone?”

  Marigold inspected me. “Why? What are you into?”

  “Into?” I echoed. “Nothing. What do you mean?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t tolerate drugs in my classroom.”

  I surveyed the woods. “This isn’t your classroom.”

  “Anywhere I happen to be teaching qualifies as my classroom.”

  “Can vampire blood give you an out-of-body experience?” I asked. “I mean, does it ever behave like a drug in someone’s system?”

  “You’re asking because of the elf?” she asked. When I nodded, she visibly relaxed. “I’ve never heard of vampire blood doing that. I know once someone is turned, all of their senses become heightened, but that’s not from the blood alone.”

  I frowned. “Right.”

  “And vampire blood also has healing properties, don’t forget.”

  “I know. Is it true
the blood can only heal certain ailments?” I pressed. “It’s not a cure for everything, right? Like, if he had cancer, nobody would suggest vampire blood to cure it.”

  “Of course not,” Marigold said. “Why do you ask? Did the Maitland boy have cancer?”

  “No, no. He wasn’t ill, although the autopsy report also showed traces of nightshade and wolfsbane, so I guess that would make someone pretty sick.”

  Marigold blinked. “Two deadly poisons?”

  “I know, as though one wasn’t enough.” I blew out a breath in frustration. “What if he was accidentally exposed to the poisons when he found them in the ceramic gnome and then someone tried to use vampire blood to heal him?” But then why hide it? Why not rush him to the healer’s and explain what happened?

  “So you’re looking for either a vampire or someone with access to vampire blood,” Marigold said.

  I tapped my cheek. “Possibly. Keep it under your witch hat, though,” I said. “The sheriff wants it to fly under the radar as much as possible while we investigate.”

  “We investigate?” Marigold repeated. “What about Deputy Bolan?”

  “That leprechaun already hates me,” I said. “What’s one more reason?”

  Marigold eyed me curiously. “Why are you acting as the sheriff’s right hand? Is it because you want more than his hand?”

  I glared at her. “I’m not his right hand. I represent Vox Populi. It’s my aunt’s newspaper, remember?”

  “And that means you and the sheriff are joined at the hip now?” Marigold asked. “Can’t you investigate separately from him?”

  “I can and often do,” I said, bristling.

  “How does Alec Hale feel about all this time with the sheriff?” Marigold asked.

  I groaned. “Take your fishing pole and go home, Marigold. I’m not telling you anything except that Alec is very much in favor of keeping the relationship professional.” His recent kiss notwithstanding, of course. I still wasn’t sure what prompted it. Too much bucksberry fizz at dinner was my guess.

  “Like the sheriff, I’m sure,” Marigold said, in a tone that suggested the exact opposite.