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Unbaked Croakies: A Magical Cozy Mystery with Talking Animals (Enchanting Inquiries Book 1)

Page 18

by Sam Cheever


  Sebille leaned closer, her frame rigid. I couldn’t see her freckled face but I could picture it in my mind. In her rage, the Sprite’s features would be sharp, her skin giving off an iridescent glow that changed color depending on how mad she was. I was relieved to see it was only a mild pink, which meant she was irritated, but she wasn’t going to be tempted to send an atom-shattering blast of magic into the treasure mirror in her present mood.

  “Sebille?” I said as I approached. I spoke more to distract her from getting any angrier than for any other reason. I gave her mother a smile and a finger wave. “Your Majesty.”

  The Sprite’s wings fluttered with pleasure and her tiny form dipped on the air before surging back up to eye level in the mirror. “Hello, Naida. How is your headache?”

  I wrapped an arm around Sebille. “Better, thanks to your daughter’s superhero level tea making abilities.”

  The Sprite in the mirror smiled regally. “I am glad. I hope you can help him, Keeper. I really do. Now I have to go.” She shot straight up, out of view. The pond in the background sparkled for a beat before beginning to waver and then disappeared behind a silvery cloud of nothingness.

  “He?” I asked my assistant.

  Sebille dropped angrily onto a chair, her expression murderous. “Don’t ask.” She yelped and shot straight into the air, grabbing her buttocks and turning to glare at the chair. The red velvet and gilded wood furniture shifted back and forth as if wagging its tail and then settled into inactivity again.

  I was pretty sure the gilded arms sparkled for a moment before returning to normal. “Casanova’s chair,” I told her, a laugh burbling in my throat.

  “I’m aware of that, Naida!” She snapped, rubbing her bottom and glaring at the chair. “We should put that thing in the closet.”

  I allowed my laugh to escape, shaking my head. “I have. Five times. It just keeps showing back up at the front of the shop.”

  She sighed. “Sometimes, I hate magical artifacts.”

  I gave her a wink. “Yeah, but magical artifacts luuurrrvvve you!”

  She somehow missed the humor in my teasing. “In the questionable vernacular of my Sprite mother, don’t be such a derk, Naida!”

  Shaking my head, I pointed to the mirror. “Did your mother have any insights for us?”

  “Nothing very useful. She said the magical wave was mixed and vague. All she got from it was that it concerned a man.” She pinched bony shoulders toward her pointed ears. “Maybe one of the artifacts in the shop has gone rogue.”

  I glanced around at the seemingly jumbled mess of things which looked harmless and innocent but which definitely weren’t either of those things. Nothing glowed or shimmied or just generally looked agitated. “If so, I’m not sensing it here. Are you?”

  Sebille opened her mouth to reply but didn’t get the chance.

  From the back of the room came a loud thump. I hurried in that direction, Sebille hot on my heels. No further sounds occurred to help us pinpoint the problem. After hurrying down aisle after aisle of dusty objects that didn’t seem to be out of place, we came to the end of the last aisle and found the source of the problem.

  Actually, he was the source of many of my problems. But he was just so dang cute!

  I jerked to a stop and cocked my head, glaring down into a pair of round, orange eyes.

  “Mr. Wicked!” Sebille uttered in her most irritated tone. “What have you done?”

  The cat narrowed its startling eyes, which were actually a really dark gold but they often looked orange in the low light. He skimmed a glance in my direction and gave me a long, broken “Meow,” then looked down at the thick, dusty tome his bottom was resting upon.

  “What are you doing in here, Mister?” I asked the gray kitten as I scooped him up and placed a kiss on top of his head. His purr rumbled against my chest as I snuggled him close.

  Sebille bent down to pick up the ancient, leather-bound text the cat had apparently knocked to the ground. “This book is two hundred years old, Naida,” she whined, her long fingers wrapping around the spine. “It’s delicate...”

  The book skimmed sideways, banging against my foot. I looked at Wicked and he seemed to smile, even as his gaze narrowed with innocence. “What are you up to, cat?”

  He shoved his back paws into my belly and I released him, watching him drop gracefully to the ground. He twined around my legs a couple of times and then looked up, giving me another throaty “Meow!”

  Sebille put hands on hips, expelling an angry sigh. “Blast you back to the hellish environs you came from, you wicked feli…”

  I slammed a hand over her mouth. “Don’t you dare!”

  Sebille glared at me over my hand, and then slowly tugged my appendage from her face. “I’m going home.”

  My first instinct was to agree, but then I remembered the magic wave. “But we haven’t found the magical artifact that needs protecting.” Even to me, my voice sounded a bit whiny. I couldn’t help it. Sebille and I were like oil and water, but without her help I was totally in the dark.

  A truly frustrating experience which made me feel inadequate on a daily basis.

  She tossed a hand over her shoulder and kept walking. “You’ll be fine. Let that damnable cat help you find it.”

  She slammed the door between the front room and the artifact library and I fought to keep from stamping my foot.

  “Meow!”

  I glanced down to find Mr. Wicked sitting beside the book, whacking it with one of his paws as if trying to kill a bug. “Here, young man. Don’t destroy the magical items.” I grabbed the thick book and lifted it, brushing grime from the floor off its leather cover.

  To my horror, the cover seemed to roll underneath my fingers, as if basking in the rubbing action of my touch. I almost dropped it, barely keeping hold with the tips of two fingers as it finally stopped moving. “Ugh!” I shook my head at Wicked. He was watching me as if he expected me to do something interesting.

  I opened the book and flipped through its gold-edged pages, noting the yellowed but surprisingly well-maintained condition.

  The pages were entirely blank.

  I frowned. “Why in the world?”

  The front door slammed and I jumped, sighing. Setting the book back into its spot on the shelves, characterized by a rectangular, dust-free area midway up from the floor, I headed toward the front room. “Come on, Mr. Wicked. We need to close the shop. Miss Huffy left without locking the doors.”

  Wicked hung back for a moment. But, by the time I reached the door into the bookstore, he was bouncing along beside me, short gray tail stuck straight up behind him. The kitten loved the stacks of books inside my magical bookstore and he never missed an opportunity to explore beneath the rows of shelves and in the corners for scraps of paper, bits of fluff, or forgotten string.

  Check out the entire series here: https://samcheever.com/books/#enchanting

  Also by Sam Cheever

  If you enjoyed Unbaked Croakies, you might also enjoy these other fun mystery series by Sam. To find out more, visit the BOOKS page at www.samcheever.com:

  Enchanting Inquiries Paranormal Mysteries - For more fun adventures with Naida, Sebille, and Wicked!

  Reluctant Familiar Paranormal Mysteries

  Yesterday’s Paranormal Mysteries

  Gainfully Employed Mysteries

  Silver Hills Cozy Mysteries

  Country Cousin Mysteries

  About the Author

  USA Today and WSJ Bestselling Author Sam Cheever writes contemporary and paranormal mystery and suspense, creating stories that draw you in and keep you eagerly turning pages. Known for writing great characters, snappy dialogue, and unique and exhilarating stories, Sam is the award-winning author of 80+ books.

  To learn more about Sam and her work, visit her at one of her online hotspots:

  www.samcheever.com

  samcheever@samcheever.com

  akies: A Magical Cozy Mystery with Talking Animals (Enchanting Inquiries Book 1)

 

 

 


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