by Emery Belle
Garnet opened her mouth hotly, but I held up my hand to stop her. “I appreciate your concern, Garnet, I do, but who I choose to date is my business, and my business only.”
Cole’s face flashed across my mind, but I pushed it firmly back down again, though I could feel warmth rising in my cheeks as I remembered the intensity of his gaze on me. Any danger Sebastian posed toward me was probably small potatoes compared to a man like Cole—any idiot could see that. So, that begged the question, just what kind of an idiot was I?
“I think what Wren’s saying is fair.” Hunter gave Garnet an encouraging smile, and after considering me through narrowed eyes, she finally uncrossed her arms and nodded. “Good,” he said, then frowned up at the clock hanging over the blackboard. “Now where is Professor Lane? He’s ten minutes late.”
Just then, the classroom door opened and Glenn practically tumbled in, wiping copious amounts of sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and fanning himself with his orange top hat. “So sorry,” he gasped, plunking down a tattered briefcase and leaning over to catch his breath. He clutched at his dimpled thighs and took great shuddering gasps of air while the three of us looked on in alarm. I had no idea how to summon medical help on the island, though I had a feeling that trying to call 9-1-1 would be fruitless.
Eventually his gasps tapered off into uneven breaths, and when he straightened up, still red-faced, I let out a sigh of relief. Glenn was my very favorite person on the island, sort of like the father I never had, and the thought of anything happening to him—though he was already at least several hundred years old—made my blood run cold.
“Goodness,” Glenn said, conjuring up a squashy armchair with his wand and dropping into it with a groan, “I had no idea how far of a journey it was from my favorite breakfast place to the academy. I must look into renting one of those unicycles that have been popping up everywhere—it looks like quite the fashionable way to travel.” I pictured the incredibly top-heavy Glenn balancing on a unicycle, his thighs drooping over the seat, and immediately banished the thought.
“Now then,” he continued, settling his briefcase into his lap and popping it open, “Professor Lane sends his deepest regrets that he has to miss yet another lesson… well, I should say that he would send his regrets, if he could talk.”
Glenn’s face turned grave. “You will remember, of course, that right before our last mixology lesson he was called away to deal with a pot-bellied pig fiasco at the daycare. As it turns out, the fairy baby who perpetrated the chaos somehow managed to turn the stolen wand on him while he was administering antidotes to the rest of the children, and though he didn’t turn into a pig himself—at least not physically—he has been displaying rather alarming behavior ever since. At this very moment, he is rolling around in a mud pit of his own making, snorting and trying to eat garbage from the street, and, as of yet, no one has been able to talk any sense into him.”
He gave the three of us a toothy smile. “So the task of conducting your mixology lesson has fallen to me once more, a challenge which I’ve happily accepted. I’ve rather enjoyed being able to pass on some of my wisdom to the newest members of our great society.” He began pulling supplies from his briefcase, then waved his wand and three cauldrons appeared on the long table Garnet, Hunter, and I were sitting behind.
“Today we’ll be learning how to brew a growth elixir,” he said, sending the supplies flying toward us with a flick of his wrist. “Good for hair regeneration, gardening, and even enhancing the odd body part, if you know what I mean.” He gave us a roguish wink while Garnet let out a gasp of horror and Hunter dipped his head beneath the table, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
“Be careful what you wish for, though,” Glenn added sagely, uncorking a vial of butter-yellow liquid with a pop, “for sometimes too much of a good thing is, indeed, too much. Just ask Lord Perione… although you can’t, for he didn’t live to tell the tale.”
He mimed a waist-level explosion with his hands, then clapped them together enthusiastically and gestured toward our cauldrons. “The growth elixir is quite simple, really. Take four tablespoons of chopped tarragon and brew it in two drops of bottled sunshine”—he shook the vial of yellow liquid merrily—“for precisely three minutes and four and a half seconds. After that, add a dash of pepper, a one-centimeter square piece of centaur toenail—taken with permission, of course—and half of a mashed banana that has been ripening under three-quarter sunlight for precisely forty-two hours. Once all the ingredients have been added to the cauldron, simmer for fifteen minutes, strain, and, if you’re like me, enjoy with a nice piece of peanut brittle.”
He looked at each of us in turn. “Have you got all of that? Perfect! Now you may begin.”
Hunter, Garnet, and I shared looks of alarm, then climbed to our feet to begin sorting through the ingredients Glenn had laid out for us. As I was examining a large piece of centaur toenail, wondering how I was going to cut it to precisely the right size, Glenn came sidling up to me and said in an undertone, “A word, Wren, if you will.” He clamped his plump hand around my forearm and practically dragged me into the hall.
After glancing around to make sure that no one was listening—other than a janitor directing a mop with his wand, we were entirely alone—Glenn folded his hands in front of his stomach and began gnawing nervously on his bottom lip. “Lady Winthrop wishes me to tell you that she has received word from the High Court regarding the unauthorized use of your training wand,” he whispered, and my heart immediately sank into my knees. Until now, I’d been doing a pretty good job of forgetting all about my possible banishment from the island.
Glenn pressed a grandfatherly hand to my shoulder. “The Court would like to interview you personally about the infraction, and they’ll be contacting you shortly with the date and time. After that, they will determine your punishment.”
He studied my face anxiously. “I would be more than happy to accompany you to your hearing, Wren, and testify on your behalf. As far as I’m concerned, you are a most wonderful and welcome addition to our island, and to banish you based on a biased and antiquated law would be sheer lunacy.” His expression grew fierce. “And I am more than prepared to tell Lord Macon exactly where he can stuff his rulebook.”
“Thank you, Glenn,” I said, blinking back the tears that had sprung to my eyes at his sincerity, “but as much as I’d love for you to be there, I think I need to handle this one on my own.”
Even speaking those words out loud made me feel slightly queasy, but I knew I was making the right choice. The last time I had to go before the High Court, Glenn had stood beside me every step of the way, but this time, I needed to plead my own case, take responsibility for my decisions, and show Lord Macon that he wasn’t about to intimidate me. As long as I could keep my wits about me, the Court would have no choice but to exonerate me.
“You’re a good girl, Wren,” Glenn said, his own eyes shining with tears. Then he dug another handkerchief from his pocket and trumpeted into it before leading us back into the mixology lab, where Garnet and Hunter were standing over their cauldrons, brows furrowed in concentration. I set to work mashing my banana and adding in just the right amount of pepper, and by the time the class was almost over, all three cauldrons were bubbling merrily.
“Excellent!” Glenn said happily as Garnet tested out her potion on her stubby fingernails, which immediately grew long and luxurious. Hunter was soon sporting more hair around his temples, where it had been noticeably thinning, and before long, I was tasting a chocolate bar I’d dug out of my purse that, to my delight, had tripled in size.
“It still has the same number of calories, right?” I mumbled to Garnet around a mouthful of chocolate as we collected our things and prepared to leave the lab.
“You bet,” she said, breaking off a piece and popping it into her own mouth. I grinned at her, and she winked back at me, and I could tell that our disagreement about Sebastian was now a thing of the past.
As we followed H
unter to the door, Glenn called after us, “I almost forgot! Lady Winthrop wanted me to inform the three of you that the time has come to select your familiar—or, I should say, for your familiar to select you.” Garnet squealed with delight, and Hunter and I exchanged excited glances.
“Please proceed to Talons and Tailfeathers at precisely five o’clock tomorrow to begin the selection process,” Glenn added, then gave us a sly wink. “I shall cross all seven and a half of my toes that none of you have the misfortune of matching up with a horned snarwazal. My good friend Silas did, and his own tailfeather still bears the rather unfortunate scars.”
“Hey,” I called, hurrying to catch up with Sebastian as he walked through the newsroom on his way to the cubicles. I fell into step beside him and glanced at the note he was holding, which was scrawled in elegant red ink. “What’s that?”
“An official reprimand from Sandrine,” he said angrily, ripping the note in two. “According to her, the obituaries I’ve written lately have been too sentimental. She wants me to tone it down, you know, make it sound like it’s no big deal that someone just kicked the bucket.” He dropped the torn note into a wastebasket we passed, then looked down at me properly for the first time. “What’s up?”
“I was wondering what you were doing tomorrow afternoon,” I said as we reached my cubicle. “I sort of need your help with something… if you don’t mind.”
“I never mind helping you,” he said, smiling at me so that his eyes crinkled. “What is it this time? Do you need to visit any more broomrobics classes? Because I could use a little bit of toning after the lunch I just ate.” He pinched at the nonexistent fat around his waist and gave me a wink. “I’m sure Fiona Thane would be just tickled to see us, too… she’ll probably let us crash the class for free.”
“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes at the memory of Fiona’s haughty face. “Actually, I was hoping you would accompany me to the bank. My friend Garnet told me I couldn’t get in without being escorted by a full member of the community, and I need to access Preston Parker’s safe deposit box.” I quickly filled Sebastian in on my jailhouse meeting with Preston, and when I was finished, he shook his head in disbelief.
“I would have thought almost getting killed by Percival would have been enough to turn you off to investigating murders.” When I didn’t respond, he gave me a long, searching look. “I’ll help you, Wren, but you better make sure Sandrine doesn’t catch wind of this. If she does, both our jobs will be on the line.”
“She won’t,” I said quickly. “We’ll be in and out as fast as we can, and if anyone sees us, we’ll just tell them that you’re storing something for me until I can open up my own account.”
“Open up your own account for what?” a voice near my knees said, and Sebastian and I both jumped and turned to find Merry the photographer hovering directly behind us, clutching Sweetpea to his chest.
“For the puff shop,” I said, then shot Sebastian a nasty look when he started to snicker. It was the first thing that had popped into my mind, and now that I’d said it, there was no taking it back.
Merry didn’t seem the least bit surprised, though; in fact, he gazed up at me with bright eyes and nodded knowingly. “I reckon you’ve taken a liking to the banshee blend. Used to enjoy a nip or two of that myself back in my younger days, but I can’t anymore for fear of fogging up Sweetpea’s lens.” He patted the camera lovingly.
“So what can I do for you, Merry?” I asked, smiling politely and hoping he wasn’t just stopping by my cubicle for a chat. I found the gnome to be quite the unpleasant little creature, and I wasn’t in a hurry to strike up a friendship… especially since he seemed to be in a one-sided relationship with an inanimate object.
Merry pulled out my chair without asking and plopped into it, then settled Sweetpea in his lap. “Sandrine wants us to attend Emeril’s reckoning later this week. She said it’s a good opportunity for you to write a follow-up column to the fashion show and for me to get a few pictures of the yeti community in their natural habitat—well, natural for Magic Island, that is. They never allow outsiders into the mountain, but the reckonings are public by law, so they don’t have a choice.”
“What’s a reckoning?” I asked. It sounded incredibly unpleasant—dangerous, even—and I couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through me as I imagined an army of ten-foot-tall yetis carrying pitchforks and performing a ritual dance around Emeril’s body.
“It’s just a reading of the deceased’s last will and testament,” Sebastian supplied. “I’ve been to a couple myself, and they’re duller than dirt. I’m sure Emeril’s won’t be any different—there’s no doubt he left his entire estate to Amelia, since she’s the only living relative of his that I’m aware of.”
“Amelia?” I said, my ears perking up at the familiar name. Hadn’t that been the same yeti Cole had seen trying to force her way backstage at the fashion show?
“Yeah, Emeril’s little sister,” Sebastian said, then added with a smile, “And when I say ‘little,’ I mean in age only. She’s about twice the size of Emeril… height and width. Careful you don’t sit next to her or you might accidentally get flattened like a piece of leprechaun gold.”
“Oh, I won’t,” I said with a laugh, though my mind was already churning with possibilities. I had every intention of getting as close to Amelia as possible at the reckoning, and with any luck, I would find out not only why she was lurking around the fashion show, but also why Emeril had to place her on the banned list to begin with. It was clear to me that the siblings must have had some kind of falling out, and I needed to get to the bottom of it.
Chapter 9
The next day, Sebastian picked me up at my dorm room on our way to the bank. When Garnet answered the door, she actually gave him a pleasant smile and invited him inside, which he politely declined, but I could feel her eyes on us as we left the room, both of us trying to ignore the smooching sounds Monty was making behind us.
“Sorry about that,” I said with a wince as Sebastian gave me an amused look. “I have no idea what I’m going to do about him—he’s completely out of control.”
We emerged into the sunshine and threaded our way through the crowds of creatures taking advantage of the beautiful day. Every now and then I noticed a woman turn her head and either give Sebastian an appreciative once-over, or, in the case of one willowy blonde, actually spit in his direction.
“So,” Sebastian said, completely oblivious to the attention, or else so used to it that he pretended not to notice, “what do you know about Monty anyway?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, sidestepping a herd of centaurs prancing down the sidewalk wearing birthday-themed party hats and blowing into kazoos. A trio of fairies holding shopping bags accidentally-on-purpose stepped in front of them, and their high-pitched giggles as the centaurs swarmed around them followed Sebastian and me down the road.
“I mean what’s his story? Where did he come from?” Sebastian held out a hand to stop me from crossing the road in front of a steady stream of chubby dwarf men pedaling hard on unicycles that looked barely able to support them.
“I have no idea,” I said, glancing up at him. The noon sun was shining down on him, highlighting the strands of red and gold in his dark hair, and I quickly looked away. “Even if I asked him, I doubt he’d give me a straight answer. Monty likes to make himself out to be a man of mystery, when in reality he’s just a snarky little head with too much time on his hands… er, chin.”
By now, we’d reached the Magic Island boardwalk, a wide wooden walkway that stretched far into the sea and was lined with colorful shops and tourist stands. I stopped to peruse a display case of color-changing contacts that were flashing hot pink, emerald green, and blue so pale it was almost silver, and was almost ready to lay down a not-insignificant amount of gold for a pair of my own to mask my boring brown eyes when Sebastian dragged me away by the arm, shaking his head.
“You have beautiful eyes,” he said over my protests,
looking down into them while my face flared pink with pleasure. “Why would you want to change their color?”
“So,” I said quickly, eager to change the subject, especially since Sebastian was still looking at me with an odd expression, “is the bank here on the boardwalk?” I craned my neck to try and see over a group of vampires crowding around a stand selling blood-flavored cotton candy (“Choose your favorite blood type, or combine them all for a vein-tingling experience!”) but didn’t see any buildings that looked remotely like a bank.
“You’ll see,” Sebastian said, tugging on my arm to speed our progress, for which I was grateful. I had plenty to do today, including meeting Hunter and Garnet at Talons and Tailfeathers to receive our familiars, but I could easily spend an entire week exploring all that the boardwalk had to offer. There was still so much for me to see and experience on the island; in the few short weeks since I’d arrived, I’d barely touched the tip of the iceberg.
I followed Sebastian to the very end of the boardwalk, and we stopped in front of a rickety canoe reminiscent of the one Glenn and I had taken down to the Magic Island Ferry when I’d first learned I was a witch. I glanced around for a ticket stand but saw none, and was just about to ask Sebastian if we had to take the ferry to another island to visit the bank when he pulled a bronze coin engraved with a leprechaun head from his pocket and slipped it into a slot in the side of the canoe.
As the canoe lurched and sputtered to life, Sebastian held out a hand to help me inside. Once we were settled on opposite seats, he pulled out his wand and enclosed our heads in the familiar glass bubble that allowed us to breathe underwater as we began to sink down beneath the waves. The journey didn’t take nearly as long this time, much to my disappointment, and as the canoe ground to a halt, I tore my eyes away from a rainbow-colored school of fish darting in and out of clumps of seaweed flowing gently in the underwater current. Looking down, I saw that we were hovering over a bronze door embedded in the sea floor that was engraved with the same leprechaun head as the one on Sebastian’s coin.