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Wisteria Wrinkle

Page 10

by Angela Pepper


  “There is a long history of distrust,” Zinnia admitted. “But we ought not let old prejudices color our perceptions.”

  “Prejudices are wrong.”

  “Well...”

  “Auntie Z?”

  “Far be it from me to perpetuate the longstanding feud between our people, but some sorts of prejudices do exist for a reason.”

  “That’s not how my generation thinks,” Zoey said. “But luckily for me, I’m a freethinker, and I make up my own mind!”

  Zinnia smiled. “And you’re very good at it.” Sometimes when Zoey spoke, it gave Zinnia so much hope for the future. “Did your mother mention when she’d be back?”

  “She told me not to wait up. Do you think they’re getting fake-married again?”

  “With your mother, we can never rule out anything.”

  “No kidding. She went to that sleepover with a couple of gorgons.”

  “Don’t worry about those two. They mean well.”

  “What about them? Are they considered shifters?”

  “No. They’re something else.”

  “Are they descended from gods and goddesses? That’s what Mom’s Monster Manual says. I can’t read the text myself because I can’t make my eyes do that thing, but she read out some parts to me.”

  “We must take everything we read in books with a grain of salt,” Zinnia said. “Because books are written by people, and people are fallible.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “Is something bothering you?”

  Zoey let out a sigh that sounded both deeply worried and also bored. “I think everything’s okay. I’ve been working on my Witch Tongue drills, just in case.”

  “Excellent. When your powers kick in, you’ll be far more ready than I ever was.”

  “Do you think it will ever happen? Be honest. Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear.”

  Zinnia rubbed her temple. Her mind ached with another incoming long-range premonition. She felt the awful sensation of herself suffocating, and then she saw flashing white teeth. There was a beast of some kind rescuing her, and she sensed the beast was under Zoey’s control. Its sharp teeth were giving off blue sparks. She’d never seen anything like it.

  Zinnia gasped for breath, and the vision was gone, thankfully along with the sense of suffocation.

  “Be patient,” Zinnia said softly into the phone. “I know in my heart that magic will find its way to you when you need it most.”

  Chapter 12

  Monday morning, Zinnia kept getting distracted from her work by the pulsating surge detector on the bookshelf. Since her arrival at the office, the glowfish “swimming” inside the air-filled globe had been glowing a steady bright green. Not blue.

  At ten o’clock, she closed her office door for privacy and called Chloe at the bakery to compare theories.

  Chloe replied with a chirpy, “Isn’t it the greatest day ever?”

  “Because it’s cream-horn day again?”

  “No, I mean because of what your niece did! Our whole family has had this horror hanging over our heads for a year, and now it seems like finally everything’s going to be good again.”

  “I believe you’re referring to some new development that I haven’t yet been made aware of.”

  “It’s my sister,” Chloe said, sounding positively giddy. “She’s back. Chessa. Isn’t it the greatest day? Chessa is back!”

  “She’s woken up from her coma?”

  “You didn’t know?”

  “Not until now, but congratulations. Are you able to tell me a little more about what happened? I haven’t spoken to my niece yet.”

  “Sure. Hang onto your hat!”

  Zinnia wasn’t wearing a hat to hang onto, but she did listen in stunned silence as Chloe told her everything that had happened over the weekend, between the sleepover and now. Zara Riddle had played a vital role in uncovering a dark conspiracy at the DWM.

  When Chloe was done, Zinnia said, “I’m so happy for you. I’m concerned about Zara, though. She won’t suffer any lingering effects from the possession, will she?”

  There was a hiss on the line. “What are you saying? Possession? My sister is not a demon.” There was a rattle that joined the hiss. “We are not demon spawn. We are descended from ethereal beings, unlike some people.”

  “Possession was too strong a word,” Zinnia said. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”

  The hissing died down. “My bad,” Chloe said. “And I shouldn’t have brought up your inbreeding. I apologize.”

  Zinnia nearly choked. Inbreeding? As far as apologies went, Chloe’s was not the best Zinnia had heard. Even Karl Kormac gave better apologies, and that was saying something.

  “Zara should be fine,” Chloe said. “And if she has any lingering effects from being temporarily blessed with my sister’s ethereal powers, I’m sure you’ll help her.” Chloe’s tone became casual and friendly. “She says you’re a very thorough mentor.” Chloe giggled. “We went through a lot of wine on Saturday night. She told us all about your training methods. Did you really dose her with witchbane?”

  Suddenly, Zinnia wanted to end the phone call. The only thing worse than being talked about at events you weren’t invited to was hearing reports about how much fun the event had been and how much you’d been talked about.

  “My training methods are private,” Zinnia said icily. “The reason I’m calling you is because the surge detector—”

  Chloe cut her off with a laugh. “That old thing? Let me guess. It’s gone yellow on you?”

  “Green.” Zinnia squinted at the glowing orb to isolate the color. “Maybe a bit yellow? It’s a shade that one might call mustard.”

  “Oh, just ignore it. The glowfish are probably going into mating mode. I wouldn’t worry about these silly power surges. This town is crawling with magic, thanks to all the tunnels and weird stuff below us. It’s something we’ll have to live with. No point in worrying about a few surge readings here and there.”

  “Chloe, something is going on. We had a red wyvern appear in the office two weeks ago. A female.”

  “These things happen,” she said lightly.

  “Is the Department still looking into the source of the surges?”

  Chloe paused before answering, “The Department is kind of busy right now. Ever since Zara, Chet, Rob, and Knox cleaned house last night, everyone’s scrambling to cover their butts before the internal investigations. Their external operations might be down to a skeleton staff for a while.” There was the sound of a baby crying on the other end of the line. “I’m so glad I work here at my peaceful little bakery,” Chloe said. “I’d hate to be in Charlize’s shoes right about now. The politics in that place have always been insane, and they’re only going to get worse now.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Like, seriously insane.”

  “Speaking of politics, is Mayor Paladini aware of everything that goes on in town? Surely she must be in the loop.”

  “Oh, Zinnia. You know I can’t tell you absolutely everything I know.”

  “All right. Then what about your own grandmother? What can you tell me about Diablo Wakeful? And how it came to be that she arrived here in 1955 during a wave of monster invasions from another world?”

  There was a hiss on the other end of the line. “Never mind about my grandmother. Stay out of our family business.”

  “But I believe your family history is relevant. I believe everything might be connected to the power surges.”

  “Stay out of it,” Chloe said sharply.

  “I know about the key,” Zinnia said, bluffing.

  “What key?” Her reaction seemed genuine. If there was a key, Chloe didn’t know about it.

  Zinnia kept up the bluff anyway. “I’ll tell you about the key if you tell me what kind of magic runs in the Gilbert family. Or what Mayor Paladini is.”

  The hissing sound grew louder, as did the baby’s wails. “I have to go.” She ended the call.

/>   Zinnia hung up her phone and looked over at the orb. It was still glowing mustard.

  She queried the glowfish, “What do you little critters know about a key?”

  The glow remained mustard.

  “Come on. Give me a hint. Do you know the Gilbert family?”

  The globe pulsed a brighter yellow.

  “Good to know,” Zinnia said. “Let me know if you happen to remember anything about a key. I could reward you by... Never mind. I don’t know what you might want.” She thought about it for a few minutes. “How about your freedom? I could let you out if you help me first with some information.”

  The color of the glow didn’t change. It had been worth a shot. When things got strange, you never knew who or what might become your ally.

  After her phone call to Chloe, Zinnia tried to focus on her work, but she couldn’t settle in.

  If the Department of Water and Magic was currently embroiled in internal investigations following a scandal, they wouldn’t be trying very hard to figure out what was happening at City Hall.

  Zinnia spent the rest of the morning poring over Angelo Wakeful’s log book from 1955. The thing read more like horror fiction than a report. There were multiple rambling passages about breezes that carried pleasant yet unusual odors, not unlike the ones currently coming into City Hall through the washroom hand dryers. Workers reported having their lunches stolen by rats the size of raccoons. At times, the crew would be swarmed by moth-like insects that were drawn to their work lamps. The insects were harmless enough, but it slowed work on the site. Most of the phenomena occurred on the third floor, but then it spread throughout the building and surrounding parts of town.

  Angelo also wrote more personal passages dripping with paranoia. He felt he was plunging into madness, seeing things that wriggled at the edge of his vision but disappeared when looked at directly. There was only a single page about the arrival of a beautiful young woman with amnesia, and then the writings ceased.

  City Hall had been plagued in 1955, all right, but by what? And why was it coming back now?

  As Zinnia closed the book, something being spoken outside her office caught her attention.

  Xavier was saying, “Give me the key and I’ll meet you there.”

  The key? What key? Zinnia listened with bated breath.

  “No way,” Liza said to Xavier, sounding annoyed. “It’s my key. Only I can use it.”

  Zinnia straightened up in her chair so quickly her neck cracked. If Liza was in possession of a key, it could be the same key her grandmother had mentioned on the weekend at the hospital. It could be a magical key. If only Zinnia could get her hands on this key, she could run some spells.

  Xavier said, “Then let’s go now, and you can use your precious key to get us in. Make an excuse and I’ll wait and leave a few minutes after you so nobody knows.”

  Zinnia leaned to the side so she could see the two young employees. It was ten minutes past noon, and the others were in the break room already for lunch. Judging from the way Xavier and Liza were talking, they thought they had their privacy. They’d forgotten about Zinnia in her office. Sometimes it was handy to be a wallflower.

  From where Zinnia sat, she could see Liza’s upper body in profile. Liza was half turned in her chair to talk to Xavier, whose desk was behind hers. Liza was stroking the pendant she wore on her necklace. It was the same medallion Zinnia had asked about the day Liza had confided in the older woman about her nightmares. Liza lifted the necklace slightly, and Zinnia saw that the bottom wasn’t round like the top. It wasn’t a filigree medallion after all. What Zinnia had seen that day was the top of a key!

  Zinnia clenched both hands in silent triumph. The witches’ trip to see Queenie Gilbert had born even more fruit, and that fruit was a key, currently being worn by Liza Gilbert.

  Liza said to Xavier in a flirtatious tone, “Since you’re so cute, sure. Give me five minutes, and then meet me by the elevator.”

  “I’m what? Cute?” Xavier pretended to be offended. “I’m a man. You don’t tell a man he’s cute.”

  Her voice sing-song, she said, “I’ll call you whatever I want, soldier!”

  “Soldier?” His voice got deep and gritty. “I like the sound of that.”

  “Five minutes,” Liza said. She got up from her chair, and stopped at the break room to tell the others she had to leave the building to run some errands.

  Zinnia noted that Liza was a smooth liar. It was always good to note when someone was good at lying, even if they were your friend. Especially if they were your friend.

  As soon as Liza was gone, Zinnia emerged from her office, pretending to yawn. “Is it lunch time already?” she asked Xavier.

  He looked up at her with large, startled eyes. “Zinnia! Have you been sitting there in your office the whole time?”

  “In here?” She waved behind herself and played dumb. “Why, yes. My office is where I do my best work.” She walked over to his desk and asked, “Where are you planning to meet Liza in five minutes?”

  He blinked repeatedly. “Nowhere.”

  She stared at the young man with a look that said I’m-your-friend-but-I’m-also-your-elder-and-you-should-respect-me. It was a look she’d been using a lot on her niece—not that it did much good, but it came to Zinnia’s face easily thanks to muscle memory. She was tempted to use magic on the young man, but she did have that rule about spells in the office. Sound bubbles were fine, because they didn’t affect other people directly. Bluffing spells, however, were on her do-not-cast list.

  Xavier swallowed hard under her shrewd look.

  Xavier Batista was, along with Liza, one of the office’s two new hires. The twenty-five-year-old’s Mexican father pronounced his name HAV-ee-ay. Everyone else, including Xavier himself, pronounced the name with a Z at the beginning, rhyming with savior. Whenever people pronounced his name the wrong way, such as Ex-avier, like Professor X from the X-Men, the young man didn’t correct them, but he did smirk in that cocky way of his.

  Xavier had a long face, a broad nose, full lips, and bushy, dark eyebrows. His hair was black, and his eyes were a surprisingly light green, in contrast to his tan-colored skin. The light-green eyes were inherited from his Irish mother—a fact he never failed to mention on Casual Fridays, when he wore one of his many Kiss-Me-I’m-Irish T-shirts. Xavier relished the attention he got as a Latino-looking young man making such a fashion statement. He did occasionally refer to himself as a “skinny Irish boy,” such as during retellings of his bravery that night in Towhee Swamp, when he’d shown an attacking cougar how tough he was. Never mind that the cougar had been retreating already when Xavier nicked it with his blade. To Xavier’s credit, it was no small thing to face a wild animal. He truly had been brave. And later that night, he’d also been brave when he’d challenged various paramedics to fight him. Not very bright, but brave.

  Despite Xavier’s T-shirts and explanations about his family tree, some people in the office were still confused about the young man’s ethnic background. Karl Kormac, the supervisor of the department, kept insisting Xavier was Pakistani, because he resembled a certain Pakistani-American actor whose name Karl couldn’t pronounce.

  Since Xavier had started working at the Wisteria Permits Department, sitting in Annette Scholem’s old desk, he’d proven himself to be a reliable and courteous coworker. As a special bonus, he was adept at figuring out computer hardware and software issues—even better than Dawna. In the two months Xavier had been working there, the department hadn’t needed to call in outside technical support once. Xavier had even, on his own free time, upgraded the office laptop. The sturdy old thing was able to boot up in record time. Less than a minute! The laptop had become so popular with staff that they’d needed to create a signup sheet.

  Zinnia continued to give Xavier her shrewdest look. “You can tell me,” she said. “Is your secret meeting place somewhere on the third floor?”

  The whites flashed around his light-green eyes. “How did you know?�


  “I’ve been around this place longer than you.” She’d actually been around everywhere longer than him.

  “What’s it all about?” he asked. “Why is the third floor like that?”

  She didn’t know what he meant, but couldn’t let on that she was bluffing.

  “Tell me your theory,” she said. “What do you think?”

  “Politics?” He shrugged. “Or budgets. Or maybe superstition?”

  She held her hand to her chin and tried to give the impression she had more than half a clue about whatever he was talking about.

  “Hmm,” she said. “And what makes you say that?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I, uh, have to go.”

  “Go,” she said with a hand wave. “You don’t want to keep your girlfriend waiting.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.” Xavier got to his feet and paused, frowning. His dark, bushy eyebrows nearly became one. “Why? Did Liza say I’m her boyfriend?”

  “Would you like it if she did?”

  He eyed her with suspicion. “Did she put you up to this?”

  “Just go,” she said with another hand wave. “Go and meet her, then ask her yourself. Soldier.”

  Xavier left for the door, looking back over his shoulder as though he expected Zinnia to follow him to whatever secret place on the third floor the two young employees had been using for their meetings.

  Zinnia didn’t have any intention of following him. But she did have every intention of finding their secret meeting place, and she even had a plan. Step one was to make a copy of Liza’s key. Well, technically step one was to talk to Margaret and get the other witch’s help making the switch, and then step two was to make a copy of Liza’s key.

  If everything went according to plan, the two witches could have the mystery of the power surges solved before dinner time.

  Chapter 13

  Liza Gilbert returned to the Wisteria Permits Department office at 12:55 pm with her sporty blonde ponytail perfectly smooth and her light makeup perfectly fresh.

  Xavier Batista didn’t return with her. He would likely be along in a few minutes, as per the young lovers’ plan. Zinnia and Margaret sprang into action, as per their own plan. The witches would need to steal Liza’s key and swap it for a duplicate before Xavier got back to his desk.

 

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