by Susan Harper
“Pretty much,” he said. “Lame, right? I mean, it’s always just been Holly and me, and I got weird at the idea of having to share her and introducing a third person to our friendship circle. I’m a real creep, I know. I hope you can forgive me for the way I acted.”
“I get it,” Monica said. “It sounds like you and Holly are really close. And I just sort of fell into your laps, and, well…took over.”
“Yeah, but I should be happy that Holly’s found another woman to hang out with,” Isaac said. “Not bitter. The truth is… I kind of…you know…like her…”
Monica grinned. “Yeah, I figured as much,” she said. “You have a crush on your best friend, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “Not that I would ever really act on it. We’ve been friends forever, you know? And I would hate to ruin our friendship just because I got a crush, you know?”
“I know,” Monica said. “Forget about the other night. Why don’t you come on in? You’re welcome to hang out at the shop, you know? I don’t mind, and I’m sure Holly wouldn’t either. And you’re right. I’ve been kind of stealing all of her attention lately.” Monica opened the door to the shop, inviting Isaac inside.
“You’re not going to tell her, are you?” he asked hesitantly.
“That’s none of my business,” Monica assured him. “But, between you and me, I think you should.”
“Maybe…” he grumbled. “Thanks for being so cool, Monica.” He followed her into the shop.
“Hey, Holly!” Monica called, and Holly appeared around a bookshelf with arms full of books.
“What’s up?” Holly asked.
“Isaac wants to know if you two want to grab dinner,” Monica said. “I’m going to be stuck here waiting on…our friend, so why don’t you go on and call it a day?”
Holly frowned. “Are you sure about that, Monica?” Holly asked. “What about…what we were talking about doing?”
“We can do dinner at the…café anytime,” Monica assured her. “Besides, I don’t know how long I’ll be waiting around tonight on…our friend. So, why don’t you just head out early tonight?”
Holly smiled. “You sure you’re good doing closing duties by yourself?” she asked.
“I can take it from here,” she assured Holly. “You guys go hang out tonight.”
“Wow, thanks, Monica,” Holly said. “I wouldn’t mind heading out, anyway. I feel like it’s been forever since Isaac and I have hung out anyway. Right, Isaac?”
Isaac blushed. “Um… Yeah….”
“Hold on, let me go grab my purse,” Holly said, hurrying to the back of the shop.
Isaac turned and looked at Monica with this embarrassed grin. “Thank you for that,” he said, scratching the back of his head nervously. “You didn’t have to do that, you know?”
“I didn’t have to,” Monica said. “But she was your friend first, you know? And I hope that you and I can become better friends too.”
Isaac smiled. “Definitely.”
Holly came trotting back over, all smiles. “Where you wanna go?” Holly asked.
“Mega Burger?” he asked. “I always enjoy going to laugh at that photo on the wall of Brian and Monica.”
“Oh, shut up!” Monica yelped, her cheeks turning red. She gave Isaac a friendly punch in the arm.
“Sounds great,” Holly said with a laugh. “See you tomorrow, Monica!”
Isaac gave Monica a friendly smile, and the two old friends departed. Abigail came down from her hiding spot in the loft. “You are a softy,” Abigail told her.
“You heard all that, did you?” Monica asked.
“Isaac’s voice really carries,” Abigail said.
“Do you think Holly heard?” Monica asked.
“Nah,” Abigail said. “She was too busy humming away while she shelved books.”
“So, how are you holding up?” Monica asked as she picked up where Holly had left off with restocking shelves.
“I could be better,” she admitted, hopping up onto a nearby bookshelf.
“Are you furious with me?” Monica asked. “Should I have just left it alone?”
“Furious with you?” Abigail asked. “Monica, you tried to get my sentence reduced. That’s more than any of my other witches have ever done for me. It didn’t work and the whole thing blew up in your face, but you tried.”
Monica laughed. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. Maybe we can try again… This time, you need to start behaving yourself, and we can bring more evidence to support your case.”
“Well, I don’t really want to get my hopes up. Last thing I need is for them to tack on yet another decade. One hundred and eighty-five years! I can’t believe that.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Monica assured her.
She went back to work on closing everything down. Once everything was completed, she had to wait around for the witch from the Sorcerers’ Council. She didn’t have to wait too long, thankfully. The woman entered the shop with an annoyed look about her. “Did you find him?” Monica asked.
“Wasn’t easy,” the witch said. “He was at the police station, answering questions about his roommate.”
“Well, where is he now?” Monica asked. The witch reached under her sleeve and pulled out a small birdcage the size of a coffee mug where a miniature Kevin was angrily gripping the bars. “Oh my gosh!” Monica exclaimed. “You miniaturized him!”
“That I did,” the witch said. “He will be facing trial tomorrow morning with the Sorcerers’ Council.”
“Let me go, you old bat!” Kevin’s squeaky little voice exclaimed, and the witch gave a quick jerk of the cage, causing him to fall.
Abigail sat upright. “I could eat him. Bet it would taste better than rats,” she said, and Kevin squealed.
The witch smirked. “I might consider that.” She straightened herself up. “But, for now, we’ll just wait on his court case.”
“What about Officer Brian and the rest of the town?” Monica asked. “Aren’t they going to wonder what happened?”
“Certainly,” the witch said. “Though, I felt that a memory charm over the whole town would be a bit extreme. Instead, I had his little friend say Kevin threatened him to confess, and I used a spell to get Kevin to be a bit more truthful. He confessed to his crimes, including pushing you off the roof. Then, I did a sleeping spell on the station so that I can take Kevin to a more proper court.”
“Everyone at the station is asleep!” Monica exclaimed. “When are they going to wake up?”
“Oh, they’re probably waking up right about now. They’ll think Kevin just escaped,” the witch said. “I made sure all video surveillance went down as well.”
“They’ll all be looking for Kevin, though,” Monica said. “But they won’t be able to find him if he is in Wysteria.”
“Exactly,” the witch said. “It’s best if we mystics handle him, though. A disappointment for the town and a bit of an embarrassment for the local authorities, I’m sure, but that’s a price we are going to have to pay. Thank you, Monica, for alerting me to this little pest. This could have been disastrous. If there is anything you need, Miss Montoya—”
“You could reduce my familiar’s sentence,” Monica said without hesitation.
The witch glanced down at Abigail, a look of dissatisfaction about her. “Very well. Consider it done. I’ll reduce her sentence by ten years.”
“So, she’s back at one hundred and seventy-five years left to serve?” Monica asked, disappointed.
The witch rolled her eyes at Monica who was attempting her best puppy-dog eyes. “We’ll make it eleven, how’s that?” the witch said. “But that’s the best you’re getting out of me. I doubt the rest of the council will be pleased with me for handing that out. Now, good day, Miss Montoya.”
The witch headed out through the back door of the shop, entering back into Wysteria. Monica sighed. “Sorry, Abigail, I tried,” she said.
“Are you kidding? I’m down to one hundred
and seventy-four years! That’s better than yesterday, at least,” Abigail said.
Monica laughed. “Well, I’m glad you see it that way. Now, let’s go home. It has been a long day, and I think I need a good night’s sleep.”
Monica and Abigail rode home on her broom, disguised as her purple bicycle, of course. When Monica’s head finally hit the pillow that evening, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. Overall, she counted it as a very successful day. A bad wizard had been captured and taken off the streets, and Abigail did manage to get one year removed from her sentence. Not to mention that she had managed to make up with Isaac as well. Monica felt a weight on her feet suddenly, and she glanced down toward the foot of her bed to see that Abigail had hopped up on the bed and curled up, her eyes closed. “Aww!” Monica exclaimed. “Are you actually curling up with me?”
“Don’t get used to it,” Abigail said without opening her eyes. “And would you please not ruin the moment by getting all giddy about it?”
Monica smirked before laying her head back down on her pillow.
15
The head witch of the Sorcerers’ Council banged her gavel, gathering the attention of the chattering room. “Do you have to bang that so loud, Imelda?” the wizard beside her asked, covering his ears.
The old witch rolled her eyes. “Are we ready for a vote or not?” she called, staring down at Kevin, who was still the size of a small fairy within his little birdcage. There was a murmur. “Very well,” Imelda said. “All in favor say aye.” The room very loudly erupted in ayes. “All opposed?” she asked, and there were one or two little nays spoken.
“What! No!” Kevin’s squeaky little voice wailed.
“Excellent,” Imelda said. “Young man, you are hereby sentenced to an absolute magical deterioration potion. For your complete lack of morals, your willingness to unveil magic to the mortal world, your assault on a witch, for murder, and for bewitching your friend to take your place in jail—for all this you have been sentenced. And, it is important to note for the record that additional evidence from past excursions of yours have also presented itself to the court including four counts of murder of a mortal, one count of murder of a troll, and several counts of reckless use of magic in the presence of mortals. These incidences have also aided in the arrival of our decision for the deterioration potion. The deterioration potion will slowly strip you of your magic over a year’s time, and you will live out your days as a magicless wizard. Secondly, you will remain on house arrest here in Wysteria for the next two years until we are certain any remnant of magic is gone for you. Thirdly, you will be forbidden from ever traveling to the mortal world again. And, fourthly, you will immediately surrender your wand to be destroyed.”
Kevin banged angrily on his little cell. Imelda raised her own wand and recited an incantation that whipped him clear out of his bird cage and caused him to grow back to normal size. A second spell caused his wand to zip out of his pocket and fly over to the wizard sitting beside Imelda, and the man snapped the wand in two and set it ablaze with his own wand. A troll entered the courtroom, carrying a potion bottle. “Drink it now,” Imelda said, “or you will immediately be sentenced to a far worse fate.”
Kevin practically growled in response, but he took the potion. He immediately looked a bit sickly, as most wizards did after taking the magical deterioration potion. “Off with you. Please escort this criminal to his family estate here in Wysteria where he will spend the next two years on house arrest,” Imelda said, and the troll pushed the angry young wizard along.
A few members of the council clapped approvingly at this court decision. “For our next order of business,” Imelda said. “The cauldron for Miss Holly Harp is ready for the blood sample, is this correct, Madam Warz?”
Another witch on the council nodded. “It started bubbling green and orange just an hour ago. Should be good and ready,” she said. “Should we invite the young mystic to witness the occasion?”
Imelda waved her hand. “She’ll find out in the formal letter we send her. Let’s not delay this any further as we have a number of other cases to handle this morning,” Imelda said.
“Tote it in!” Madam Warz called to the troll guarding the enormous golden doors.
The doors were opened by two more trolls. On an enormous wooden cart sat a bubbling, black cauldron. A young giant aided the trolls in removing the cauldron from the cart, and he sat it in the middle of the room where Kevin had been standing earlier. “Has it started to cool down since removing it from the fire?” Imelda asked.
“Yes, it’s good to go,” the giant said.
“Very well. Off with you,” Imelda said, informing the trolls to follow the giant out as well so that only members of the court were present.
Imelda stepped down from her pedestal, removing the small test tube from which she had taken a sample of Holly’s blood. “Let’s see what we’ve got here. Anyone care to make any bets?” Imelda joked with her fellow council members, and a few of them laughed.
“Definitely not a werewolf,” one said.
“Nor a fairy,” said the one fairy on the court. “Too ugly.”
“I thought she was rather cute,” the mermaid countered.
“You’re only saying that because you think she might be part-mermaid,” the fairy argued.
Imelda shook her head. “Honestly,” she said and dropped the test tube into the potion. Using the ladle that was hooked to the side of the cauldron, she began to stir the mixture. It began to bubble a red color and then purple and finally a bubble gum pink before it started to glow before finally turning black. “Let’s see, then,” Imelda said, dipping the ladle and scooping out some of the black goo. She poured the potion onto the floor, and it began to spread. Imelda pointed her wand at the mixture on the floor. “Revelare!” Imelda called, and a flash of light erupted from the tip of her wand, causing the puddle on the floor to glow.
Almost immediately, the whole room erupted into frightened and surprised shouts. “That can’t be right!”
“What is this nonsense?”
“She can’t be!”
“It’s an error, most certainly!”
Imelda stared down at what had frightened her fellow council members, and she dropped her wand in surprise. She kicked the cauldron over, causing the rest of the concoction to pour over the results of the magical test they had just created. The room grew quiet. Imelda straightened herself up, looking toward her fellow council members.
“Imelda, what are we going to do?” the wizard who sat beside her at most of the meetings asked, his face incredibly pale.
“Nothing,” Imelda said. “The test was inconclusive.” There was a murmur, so she repeated herself. “Inconclusive!” she shouted. “The woman doesn’t know what she is, and it is best it stays that way! All in favor?”
There was silence for only a moment, and then a unanimous “Aye!”
“Good,” Imelda said, straightening herself up. “Someone inform the trolls who had been in charge of bringing this cauldron in that we have had a spill. It needs to be cleaned up before our next hearing. I suggest we all take a brief recess while this mess is cleaned up. And I advise each of you to remain silent about what it is you just saw. There is no reason to cause an uproar. As far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, Holly’s blood didn’t take, and we were unable to decipher her genealogy. Am I clear?”
Several heads nodded nervously, and soon the room cleared out of everyone but Imelda and her wizard friend. “Imelda, do you not realize what this could mean?” he asked.
Imelda practically growled. “I do know. We will need to keep a close watch on the girl. If she ever discovers what she is… The results could be disastrous.”
“She’s going to keep asking questions,” the wizard said.
“Then we are just going to have to do our best to lead her in the wrong direction,” she said.
“If we tell her the results were inconclusive, she might keep searching. Perhaps instead we should provi
de her with a falsified answer?” he suggested.
Imelda pondered this for a second. “Something…simple…to keep her pacified?”
“Yes,” the wizard said. “But tell her something.”
Imelda was not so sure about that plan. “Let us think on it before we do anything too rash.”
“I believe we are already acting rashly,” the wizard said, rising from his seat. “We must keep this quiet, Imelda. You know this as well as I.”
She nodded. “That I do,” she said, staring at the mess on the floor.
The doors opened, and a handful of trolls with mops entered. “The cauldron spilled?” one of them asked. “How did you manage that?”
The wizard stared off into space for a moment. “The results were inconclusive, and you know Imelda, such a passionate soul, kicked the thing over in frustration.” Imelda rolled her eyes, annoyed at his excuse.
“Honestly,” she grumbled under her breath, and the trolls snickered at the thought of Imelda, head of the Sorcerers’ Council, losing her temper over a faulty genealogy test. The wizard seemed rather pleased with himself for taking this grim opportunity to mess with her.
She headed out, following her wizard companion closely. They both walked as though the burden of the world was on their shoulders. She glanced back over her shoulder at the black substance now being mopped up by the trolls, horrified by the secret that it had revealed to them all only moments ago. Imelda shuddered, hardly able to comprehend what sort of trouble this could mean for both realms. Holly Harp was going to have to be watched closely—this much Imelda knew. Very closely indeed.
A Gruesome Goal
Back Room Bookstore Cozy Mystery, Book 4
1
Monica Montoya finished straightening up the loft reading nook of her shop, Backroom Books. The whole place was really starting to come together. She had already started to settle into Bankstown since moving into her aunt’s old home and taking over the woman’s bookshop. It was quite a change from her home in Wysteria, a town in the land of the mystics. Monica, a witch, was having to get used to living among mortals.