Gone With the Witch

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Gone With the Witch Page 11

by Heather Blake


  Looking for another source, I glanced at Terry’s house.

  A front curtain swished closed. He’d been watching, as he usually did, but apparently he was keeping out of this.

  My gaze skipped to my sister. She rocked on her heels and said, “How’s Chip Goldman doing? What did Nick say? Was Chip poisoned like you thought?”

  Ignoring her questions, I focused on Mimi. The wind had picked up, and it blew her dark spiral curls upward, swirling them like a mini tornado.

  She gave me a tight toothy smile.

  “What are you and Harper doing out here?” I asked her again.

  Blinking her big brown eyes, she looked everywhere but at me. “Cookie,” she mumbled.

  “Cyanide poisoning can be reversed if caught in time,” Harper went on, talking faster and faster. “It really depends on how big a dose Chip swallowed. The good thing is the doctors know they’re dealing with cyanide. He’s not some random patient who just collapsed. . . . That’ll save time. And possibly his life, which is really your doing, Darcy. You saved his life! You’re a hero!”

  Harper was shoveling for all she was worth.

  Starla crossed her arms. “We don’t know that. Chip could be dead as a doornail right now.”

  Harper blew out a breath of defeat, then perked up again. “And isn’t that a strange saying? Dead as a doornail? Where’d that even come from?”

  Starla threw me a your-sister-has-gone-crazy look.

  It was possibly true, but I didn’t think so in this instance. She was trying to fast-talk her way out of an explanation.

  Looking for Cookie, my foot.

  I stepped toward Mimi, close to her face, forcing her to look at me. She was the weak link between her and my sister. “Mimi . . . ,” I began, drawing out her name.

  Abruptly, she grabbed my hands. “We’re sorry! We didn’t mean for it to happen! One minute we went to check on Missy outside because you know how she likes to run away, and—”

  “Mimi!” Harper interrupted. “Pzzzt!”

  That method apparently worked better on Saint Bernards than teenagers, because Mimi rambled on undeterred.

  “—and the minute the door opened, Titania slipped right past us and was over the fence before we even got off the por—”

  My jaw dropped. “You lost Titania? That’s what this is all about?”

  Harper coughed. “Technically, we didn’t lose her. Technically, she ran away.”

  “Technically,” I said, trying to keep calm, “it’s the same thing. She’s gone.”

  Harper shifted on her feet. “Then, yes, I suppose we lost her.”

  Poor Titania. First the trauma of her owner dying, now this. She wasn’t even wearing a collar, because I’d taken off the jeweled one she’d worn at the Extravaganza. If someone found her, they wouldn’t know who to call. What if that person took her to the pound? Or . . . kept her.

  I had to make posters as soon as possible.

  Mimi nodded. Fat teardrops filled her eyes. “We’re sorry. We’ve been looking everywhere. Aunt Ve and Archie are helping. We wanted to find her before you got back, but . . . we couldn’t.”

  I inhaled, exhaled. Getting angry wasn’t going to help this situation at all, and it wasn’t as though she’d been lost on purpose. How many times had I lost track of Missy? Accidents happened.

  Putting my arm around Mimi, I said, “It’s okay. Where have you looked?”

  “We’ve been around the main village loop three times.” Mimi pivoted and pointed in different directions. “Archie’s been looking in the outer neighborhoods. Aunt Ve is checking closer to the playhouse. We thought if you saw her you wouldn’t get suspicious.”

  “Hold up, now,” Starla said, tapping her foot. “Does this mean Ve’s not home?”

  Harper abandoned the search of the hedges and walked over to us. “Nope. She should be back soon. We’ve been rendezvousing every half hour.”

  “How soon until the next check-in?” Starla asked.

  Harper checked the time on her cell phone. “Ten minutes. Why?”

  “The hair.” I pointed to my silver stripe. “We’re hoping Ve has answers.”

  “Hey, now that you know why Mimi and I are out here,” Harper said, glancing between Starla and me, “you can tell us about your hairstyles. What’s with the freaky streaks? It’s not a good look. On either of you.”

  “I like it,” Mimi murmured.

  Harper said to her, “I guess it’s nice. If you’re a skunk.”

  “Darcy,” Starla said sweetly, bumping me with her shoulder. “Why don’t you show Harper what the streaks are all about?”

  I glanced at my friend, knowing immediately what she was asking. I thought, given the circumstances, that it was a splendid idea and tossed out some bait. “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think Harper would want to know about the spell. . . . You know how she feels about the Craft in general.”

  “Spell?” Mimi perked up. “What spell?”

  Mimi loved spells. The girl would have made an excellent Spellcrafter, truthfully. Fortunately, she could still practice spells. Her mother, Melina, had left behind a diary of spells and other Craft secrets that kept Mimi endlessly occupied.

  Curiosity blazed in Harper’s eyes. “Yeah, what spell?”

  I knew my sister well. Although Harper wanted little to do with the Craft, she couldn’t stand being denied knowledge. I reeled her in.

  “That’s the thing,” I said, trying to sound innocent. “We know nothing of the spell, so we’re hoping Ve will. All we know is that we’re now visible in pictures. Let me show you how it works.” I pulled out my phone, pointed it at my sister, and snapped a few photos.

  Harper grabbed the phone to look at the images. Amazement accented her words. “How is this even possible? This is incredible. Think of the possibilities. Drivers’ licenses. Baby albums. Weddings. This opens a whole new world for us. Pictures on the mantel,” she said on a sigh. “Christmas cards!”

  I didn’t point out that she didn’t have a mantel in her apartment and that she didn’t send Christmas cards. She was too happy with the images she was creating in her mind. The way she talked about baby albums and wedding photos made me wonder if she had those things weighing on her mind these days. Her boyfriend, Marcus, would be mighty happy to hear the sappy tone of her voice right now.

  Suddenly, her eyebrows dipped low, she pressed her lips together, and her jaw slid to the right.

  It was an expression I knew well—as I’d witnessed it many times during her upbringing. Harper hated to cry, so she screwed up her face every which way to prevent tears from falling.

  “Harper?” I asked. “You okay?”

  She waved off my concern. “It’s just . . . Mom.”

  Ah. I understood. Harper had never seen our mother and had no memories to fall back on, as she had been born the day our mother died. As Wishcrafters, we had no photographs of those we loved. If this spell had been around long before now, all that would be different. It was one thing for Aunt Ve or me to describe what our mother looked like and another for Harper to see her image with her own eyes.

  I was currently drawing a family portrait that I hoped would change all that. It wasn’t a photo, of course, but it was as close to one as possible. I planned to give the drawing to Harper at Christmas, my gift to her of finally being able to see our mother. It wouldn’t be the same as having a photo album that highlighted our mother’s life, but I hoped she loved the portrait as much as I did. Or at the very least felt the love I’d put into creating it.

  “Yeah,” Mimi agreed. “Pictures of my mom would be nice.”

  Harper nodded, still staring at the phone.

  We all stood in silence for a moment, silently mourning our lack of photographic family history. It was a small price to pay for the abilities we possessed, but it was still a price.

&n
bsp; “Uh, Harper . . . ,” Mimi said, ending our reverie as she gawked at Harper’s head. “Your . . .”

  Harper glanced up. “What?”

  Reaching in her backpack for the mirror, Starla held it out. “Welcome to the freaky streak club.”

  Harper snatched the mirror out of Starla’s hand and let out a noise that was halfway between a scream and a cry. A silver strand of hair skimmed her face, from scalp to razor-cut end. Her streak wasn’t as dramatic as mine and Starla’s simply because Harper’s hair was shorter, but it was still very noticeable.

  “Take a picture of me,” Mimi exclaimed. “I want a streak!”

  Smiling, I put my arm around her again. “Let’s wait until we talk to Ve. Hopefully, she knows what’s going on. I just want to make sure there aren’t any other consequences to our pictures being taken.”

  Harper was still staring at herself in the mirror. She peeked over the top of it at me. “You knew this would happen when you took the picture, didn’t you?” she accused.

  “Yep,” I said.

  “How’s that for honesty?” Starla added.

  Harper glowered. “It stinks.”

  “Exactly,” Starla said succinctly. “Exactly.”

  “Girls!” a voice shouted from down the block. “Yoo-hoo!”

  We all turned in that direction.

  “I found her!” Aunt Ve said triumphantly. A wiggling Titania was sandwiched between Ve’s arms and her mighty bosom.

  I nearly sagged with relief. I hated thinking of the cat out there on her own.

  I’d become attached.

  Which wasn’t a good thing. She wasn’t mine to keep.

  “She was lurking around Natasha’s apartment building, poor thing,” Ve said as she approached. Copper tendrils of hair were stuck to Ve’s red cheeks, which were flushed from exertion. Her eye makeup was smudged, and she still wore the wrap dress she’d had on at the Extravaganza.

  It had been a long day for everyone.

  “Oh, and I need to call Harmony and Angela. I spotted Cookie trotting down Incantation Circle, all la-di-da and having the time of her life, but I couldn’t grab her because my hands were full with this one.” At that, she transferred Titania over to me. The cat looked into my eyes, rolled belly-up in my arms, and started purring.

  Maybe I didn’t even have to mention her to Natasha’s sister. . . .

  Ve dusted off her hands and took a good look at us all. “Before I forget, Darcy, I ran into Glinda Hansel, who asked me to tell you that she’ll stop by tomorrow for the pen. She said you’d know what she meant.” Ve paused a beat. “What’s she mean, dear?”

  I petted Titania’s head. “The spy pen. I took some video with it that she wants to copy.”

  “Video of Natasha?” Ve asked, knowing why I had the spy pen in the first place.

  I knew where I’d inherited my nosiness. “Mostly.”

  “Why does Glinda want footage of Natasha?” Harper asked.

  “It’s a long story,” I said. “Too long to go into on an empty stomach. I’m hungry and tired and need to catch a second wind.”

  “Well then,” Ve said. “Who’s ready for dinner? I’m also starv—”

  Suddenly, her gaze zipped between Starla, Harper, and me.

  “What did . . .” Her voice trailed off. Again, she glanced between us as though not believing her eyes. Finally, she tapped the top of her head. “What did you three do to your hair?”

  “We didn’t do anything,” Starla said, her tight tone hinting at the end of her patience.

  “No?” Ve asked. “Then who did?”

  “We’re hoping you can tell us,” I said.

  “Me?” Ve said with shock. “Why me?”

  “It has to do with this.” Harper handed her my phone, which still had her picture on the screen.

  Ve smiled at the image. “What a great pict— Oh. Oh dear. I was afraid something like this would happen. I mean, not your hair specifically, but that there would be a side effect.”

  “You know about the spell, Aunt Ve?” Mimi asked.

  “I’m afraid I do.” Ve handed the phone back to Harper. “I commissioned it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “It was time,” Ve said. “Past time, actually. I commissioned the spell from Vivienne Lucas months ago, when I had the idea to run for village chairwoman. Being in the public eye is difficult enough without explaining why I’m unable to appear in photographs. It took Vivienne some time to create the spell as she had to wait for a certain moon cycle. She finally brought the prototype here yesterday, knowing I wanted it in time for the Extravaganza. It’s picture-palooza at that event, and I needed to be prepared.”

  So that was why Vivienne had met with Ve yesterday.

  “It is quite the complicated spell,” Ve went on, bustling about the kitchen, prepping tea as we waited for our dinner order of pizza to be delivered. “The Lunumbra. The moon ghost spell.”

  Harper tipped her head. “Moon ghost?”

  Crafters borrowed heavily from Latin roots and words. Luna meant moon in Latin. Umbra was ghost, among other things.

  Ve nodded. “Somehow the spell uses moonlight, or the lack of it in this case, to create our images. Ghostly images, if you will.”

  “That’s so cool,” Mimi said in whispered wonderment.

  Moon ghost. The name gave me the willies.

  Ve reached over to where I sat at the peninsula, touched my silver stripe of hair, and said, “Vivienne was worried the spell would need adjustments. It was probably a bad decision on my part to cast it before all the kinks had been sorted out, but when I tested the spell yesterday, it seemed to work without consequence on me. Now, however, as I look more closely at my hair, I see I have extra strands of silver around my face as well.” Her eyes twinkled. “Blends right in with my other hair. I must make an appointment at the Magic Wand this week for a touch-up.”

  As Ve spoke, I listened closely, but I was also was counting.

  One, two, three, four . . .

  It was probably the tenth time I’d counted the animals in the room. Missy, Higgins, Titania, Tilda. All were present and accounted for.

  For now.

  Titania had managed to charm the uncharmable Tilda. The two cats sat together on the top step of the back staircase, and a few times I had caught Tilda grooming Titania when she thought no one was looking.

  “Is it a global spell?” Mimi asked from her spot on the hardwood floor, where Missy appeared to be snoozing in her lap.

  But she wasn’t. Every once in a while I caught the little dog peeking out of one eye as though also doing her own head count. She seemed to have forgiven me for the day’s upheaval, as she’d happily greeted me at the gate earlier.

  “Heavens no, it’s not global,” Ve said. “Can you imagine the chaos that would create? The Elder would be inundated with panicked Wishcrafters. Unfortunately, I do not know all the inner workings of the spell as of yet. I was in a bit of a rush when Vivienne was here.”

  “Cool,” Mimi said again as she rubbed Missy’s ears.

  Ve turned to pull the tea caddy from the top of the fridge. Over her shoulder, she added, “Darcy, I was going to tell you of the spell this morning, but you were up and out of the house before I came downstairs, and then it simply slipped my mind in the pandemonium of the day. No harm, no foul. Except for the hair, of course.”

  She glanced at me and winked. Her cheeks were pink, and her nose twitched.

  On the surface, Ve’s explanation made perfect sense. However, I sensed that for some reason she wasn’t telling me everything. I narrowed my eyes at her and she quickly turned away.

  What was she hiding? Did it have something to do with the conversation I’d overheard between her, the Elder, and the mystery woman yesterday morning?

  The mystery woman had said, “I don’t need to r
emind you what’s at risk here if—”

  “No,” Ve said, cutting her off with a long sigh. “You don’t need to remind me. I know. We all know the risks.”

  Yes. There was definitely more going on here than met the eye, but Ve seemed intent on keeping secrets.

  “So, what are we supposed to do about our hair?” Starla asked. “How long does the spell last? Is there a way to fix my hair ASAP?”

  Ve answered as she set a teakettle onto the stove top, “We’re going to have to ask Vivienne Lucas. I’ll give her a call to ask her to come over straightaway.”

  I bristled. “That may not be a good idea right now.”

  “Why not?” Harper asked.

  “Yeah, why not? Dinner date,” Starla singsonged. “How am I going to explain my hair to Vince?”

  “I suggest you wear a hat. Vivienne has bigger problems than our hair right now,” I said, filling them in on the Baz situation. “If they haven’t already, the police are going to be knocking on her and Baz’s door any minute.”

  “You don’t say,” Ve muttered. “I’ve known Baz a long time, and never would have suspected him of cheating. He is an ostentatious flirt, but cheating? I’m having a hard time believing it.”

  “Believe it,” I said. “I saw it with my own eyes. And apparently Vivienne was suspicious, because she hired Glinda to catch him in the act.” I told them how I’d bumped into Glinda at the Extravaganza and what she had shared with me. “There’s a clause in Baz and Vivienne’s prenup that will pay her a ton of money if he’s caught cheating.”

  “How much is a ton?” Harper asked.

  “Ten million.”

  Starla nearly fell off her stool. “You’re joking.”

  “Nope. And hold on to your seat, because if Glinda can prove that Baz cheated, then Vivienne has promised Glinda a percentage of the prenup money as a bonus.” I paused for dramatic effect—Archie would have been proud. “Five hundred thousand dollars.”

  “Holy moly,” Ve said under her breath.

  “I’m in the wrong business,” Starla muttered.

 

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