by J L Collins
I waited, holding my breath. Eric and Jack didn’t look like they were down with keeping it civil. After a few moments, the red one huffed and trotted back inside his house, the door slamming behind him.
Chief Putnam nodded at the black fox. “All right, Jack. I won’t keep you from your breakfast. Please don’t ask for me to come back out here over this anymore.”
Jack, I assumed, nodded and took off behind his house, leaving the chief alone.
My cue.
“Good morning, Chief Putnam,” I said, flashing him my best smile as I walked up. “You’re an awfully hard man to track down.”
His thick mustache twitched as he finished scribbling something down on the small notepad. “When you have an entire town to look after, you don’t stay put long. What do you need, Miss Warren? I have business to handle elsewhere.”
“Of course. I wanted to talk to you about the Charming Springs Gazette, actually. I’ve taken over as editor in chief, and I’m trying to get my bearings straight with it.”
He sniffed, shoving the notepad back in his coat. “I’m aware. What does that have to do with me?”
The muscle in my jaw tensed but I kept the smile on my face anyway. He wasn’t about to pull this grumpy cop schtick with me, leaving me empty-handed.
“I want to float some idea with you about the partnership between the police department and the paper. I spoke with Drusilla about maybe setting up a system with your department so we can publish neighborhood crime reports. We could add an anonymous tip line if you don’t already have one, I was thinking even if—”
His bark of a laugh cut me off. “You never lived in a small town? The only crimes you’ll need to report about are a couple of feuding neighbors and maybe some parking tickets. It’s just not a problem here in my town. If something did happen then word would travel fast enough. I don’t think the residents here need any help with that.”
I frowned. “Which is exactly why there’s a real need for efficient and truthful reporting to help keep the facts straight. Misinformation can be a harmful thing, but especially in a small town like Charming Springs.”
If he didn’t think this kind of stuff should be reported on then what the heck did he think we should worry about? School lunch menus?
He waved me off. “You can hop down from that high horse, Miss Warren. The Gazette isn’t some hard-hitting investigative journalism rag. It’s there to entertain the older folks who still read it. Throw in some letters to the editor, some opinions from some of your readers. Keep it light. I’m sure the women who help run it can steer you in the right direction. Beatrice had it running smooth enough.”
Oh no, we are not going to do this. “I disagree. In fact, given the recent death of Helio Rumpleroot, I think it’s best to follow through and help calm the potential fears of our readers. I’m sure they have questions regarding his cause of death. Say Chief, do you know if there’s been a toxicology report run yet?”
I was done playing games with a man who thought we women who run the Gazette needed to keep it light and simple. Watching him narrow his watery eyes at me gave me the tiniest satisfaction. There was something about getting under his skin just as much as he got under mine…
He brushed past me and rounded his car, muttering something to himself before looking back over at me. “Leave Tim out of your scheme—he’s not going to just hand you important evidence like that. I don’t know how things work where you come from, little lady, but here in my town we stick to what we know. And what I know is that you can learn how to keep your nose out of police matters.” Hawking a disgusting loogie, he stared me down and gave me a nod before getting into his cruiser.
All I could do was stand there. No point in screaming at him now, and I didn’t need to burn bridges like that with the town’s top law enforcement officer either, as much as I hated to admit it.
Drusilla’s warning about the police chief was on point—he had no interest in being an asset to the newspaper, and not only that, it was pretty clear that he wasn’t a fan of its new editor. Not that this was a surprise.
I watched the police cruiser disappear around the corner. The wind bit at me as it swirled around my face. My skin tingled and the fiery heat of embarrassment flared against my cheeks. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to unleash my unchecked magic without even realizing it. And which type of power would make an appearance was anyone’s guess, so I swallowed hard, yanked Big Ben’s door open and slid into the cab.
When I made it back to the Gazette and opened my laptop back up, I threw my shoulders back, determined. The blank newspaper template was practically laughing at me on the screen.
I really should’ve paid more attention to Nan’s Sunday papers instead of just reading the comics, but here I was. I had help and I wasn’t going to let that jerk of a cop make me feel like an idiot anymore.
I caught Drusilla’s gaze across the room. “I don’t care what the chief says, somehow we’re going to cover Helio’s case.”
She smiled and nodded, and I settled back, ready to get to work.
5
Find The Balance
Everything hurt.
Maybe taking my first kickboxing class this morning was kismet. After going back and forth, I’d finally let Goldie convince me to join the gym. It took a few weeks, but I was ready to try something new and somehow landed on kickboxing.
For some reason in my delusions of grandeur, I imagined myself to look glowing and powerful while laying into the training bag—radiating total awesomeness. Boy was I in for a rude awakening.
“I think I surprised the trainer with how energetic I was at six o’clock in the morning, but she pretty much beat that out of me. Not only did I look like a drenched tomato when I was finished, but I was sweating in places I didn’t know existed. I looked like I took a dip in a pool.”
Breezing past me, Goldie made a disgusted sound. “Ugh. Sweat is such a gross human thing.”
“I’m not the one digging for bugs in my feathers,” I said with a shrug. “It was actually pretty exhilarating outside of the exhaustion and ick. But the best part was every time I kicked and punched the bag, I imagined the chief’s stupid face.”
Goldie snorted overhead. “That’s one way to work out one’s frustrations, I guess.”
My entire lower half was dragging and sore even after the shower earlier, and I wasn’t sure if I’d be worth anything at Fatima’s. Our weekly magic lesson might have to be more chat than magic.
The slight incline in the path up to her cottage had me groaning. “Ugh. Investing in a snowmobile might be a worthy endeavor at this point. Ouch.”
“Stop the complaining. Once you get used to it you’ll really be able to kick some butt. Literally. Four different powers and you know how to kickbox, too? No one’s going to want to mess with you then.”
“I didn’t realize anyone wanted to mess with me now. Hey,” I stopped short, remembering something the chief had said yesterday. “I don’t suppose you know who Tim is, do you?”
She soared higher for a moment and then dropped back down to eye level. “Tim. That gives me a lot to go on.”
“Ah, yeah I guess that’s a good point. Chief Putnam mentioned something about me not bothering some guy named Tim, when I asked him about a possible toxicology report.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, he’s probably talking about Tim Forsythe. He’s the coroner, remember?”
That made sense. “I don’t suppose you’re friends with this Tim guy?”
She rolled her eyes and kept flying further ahead. When we finally made it to Fatima’s doorstep, she sighed. “I’ll see if I can find out something while I’m out today. No promises, though. Tim’s an okay guy but I’m busy.”
I shot her a grin and knocked on the door. “You’re the best.”
“I know. Good luck with your lesson and try not to burn the place down,” she trilled in her sarcastic sing-songy tone. She let out a squawk and took off.
The door cracked open, revealing a
pretty, smiling face wrapped in a muted hijab. Fatima moved out of the way and let me in. “Hey, you. How did the kickboxing class go?”
I unloaded my scarf and coat on the hooks by her front door and gave her a quick squeeze. “I was just telling Goldie how impressed the trainer was with me. Ten out of ten, she said. In fact, she invited me to lead the next session with her.”
“That rough, huh?”
“I can’t stand without feeling like a bowl of jelly but other than that…” I trailed off. “Honestly? I kind of loved it. It’s nice to have some way of letting off some steam without actually letting off steam.” I twirled my finger over the hot mug of tea sitting on her big round table, the thin stream coming off of it twisting into a vortex.
“I think it’s a great idea myself. Magic takes so much mental energy that it can be difficult to want to expend any physical energy. This will help you find the balance.”
I smiled. Fatima always came with the sage advice in the proper dosage.
The inside of Fatima’s cottage always reminded me of a modernized Bohemian den, but with drying herbs and plants hanging all over the place. The warm colors and smell of saffron and something spicier fit the place and Fatima so well. There was no way you could enter it without feeling immediate relief from the cold.
We sat down at the table, sipping on her fresh brew of Gingko-ginger tea. Whenever it was time for my lesson, she always started with the tea to help me focus.
Man…where was that when I was struggling in my college math classes?
“So teach, what are we working on today?”
She leaned back in her chair and studied the dredges of tea left in her mug. “Hm, good question. Were you able to crumble the rock?”
In the last session, Fatima gave me some homework which believe me, the irony in that was not lost on me. I was to crumble a fist-sized rock without holding it. Sounds simple enough in theory, but without holding or having contact with the element, it’s much harder to focus and get a grip on manipulating its energy.
I sucked in a quick breath. “About that…”
She dropped her head. “Indie, if you’re going to control your magic outside of your reach…”
“I know, I know. I gave it a few tries, I promise. Earth magic is the hardest for me to work with. It’s hard enough to do it while I’m holding it. There was a small crack in it, at least. I mean, progress is progress, right?”
“Let’s work some more on that, then. We’ll have you crushing that rock in no time. Then we can move on to some new stuff.”
I quirked an eyebrow at her. “Oh yeah? What kind of new stuff are we talking?”
Turns out that the new stuff was using symbols with the elements—some real fantasy book kind of new stuff. As soon as Fatima traced a rune in the air out of a candle’s flame, I was on board.
“But first, the rock.”
I groaned. “If you insist.”
Let me be the first to say that exercising your brain—which is not a muscle—is almost as impossible as it sounds. But there’s this small space you find in between the frustration and irritation where you can tug on this string and there’s the magic energy. It works through your nerves and at first feels like it ends at you but if you nearly have an aneurysm, you can push it out a little farther and sometimes even do something with it.
The cracked rock sat on a stump behind her cottage where she’d created our own little magic training arena. I told her I felt like a contestant on one of those obstacle course game shows. Except instead of climbing ropes and jumping onto giant red balls, I was dodging fireballs and trying not to set a whole forest on fire.
“There you go. Steady, but don’t hold your breath. Slowly in, slowly out,” she said loudly as I grit my teeth trying to both focus on her words and the rock’s impenetrable outside.
I slowed my breathing, pulled from even deeper and felt for the threads of magic that would help me reach the rock. It wrapped around the rock, acting like a buzzing net. I imagined squeezing the net around the rock tighter and tighter, the rock’s surface resisting like well, a rock.
I swallowed against the rising lump in my throat and squeezed even harder.
The crack traveled across the rock in an instant, and with the last trickle of energy I had in me I flexed the magic tighter and the rock cracked deep and crumbled all over the stump leaving a fine powder.
Fatima shrieked and jumped up, laughing. “See? I told you! You just feel for that tiny part that’s not there on the surface. You found it!”
I wiped at the sweat beading along my hairline. “Mmhm.”
Wrapping her arm around my shoulder, she chuckled. “Time for a break, I think.”
Instead of hot tea, Fatima whipped up some traditional Egyptian cookies called kahk.
The drool was real.
“Mmph, these are so good,” I said through a mouthful, careful to wipe at the spongy crumbs. “Sorry.”
“It was a recipe from my auntie. She was an excellent cook.”
Fatima didn’t talk too much about her family that still lived in Egypt, but I imagined it was a sore subject considering the curse. With no way to contact anyone on the outside of Charming Springs, there was no way to let your loved ones know what’s happened to you. Something I myself tried not to think of… and I’ve only been stuck here for two months, not eleven years like everyone else.
Switching to a different subject, I brought up my conversation with the chief yesterday, interested in her opinion.
“I knew he was a jerk, but I mean, come on. Suppressing the free press is something dictators do.” I shook my head. “How in the world did that incompetent man end up the police chief, anyway?”
Fatima played with the tasseled edge of her favorite pashmina, not quite meeting my eyes. “I’m not sure. He’s always been in the position since I moved here.”
I nodded, polishing off my plate. “I bet his father or whoever was the chief before him. That’s why his son is the Chief Deputy. They keep it in the family.” I was pretty sure that everywhere I’ve lived had their Chief of Police as an elected official, but whatever.
I expected some acknowledgment from her, but Fatima kept quiet. It wasn’t like her to not join in on questioning the way the police department was run. I frowned.
“Hey. Is something wrong?”
She bit her lip, looking torn between not saying anything and telling me whatever it was. “Last night he stopped by.”
I back went rigid as something squirmed inside my gut. “Chief Putnam?”
“The fairy that died? They found an adhesive smeared on his wings, gluing them together. That’s why he didn’t stop himself from falling from the clocktower.”
I nodded. “Yeah, we heard about that. It’s one of the reasons I went to talk to the chief in the first place. I feel like there’s more going on there than just an accident. So… what did he want?”
Whatever it was couldn’t have been good. It wasn’t like the man was dropping by for dinner.
She looked down at her hands. “You know I sell some of my potions and mixtures from home.”
Fatima was one of the only witches or wizards who utilized magic outside of her own fire magic ability. She was particularly skilled with her herbal teas, homemade potions and creams for different ailments.
I folded my arms across my chest, that dread in the pit of my stomach leading my mind wandering. “Yes?”
“Well, I make a magical stitching adhesive to help with sewing and also works like liquid medical tape. The adhesive found on Helio Rumpleroot’s wings… the chief seems to think that it’s the same mixture.”
“It’s just a coincidence. And if it isn’t, that doesn’t mean anything. Someone might have just had it lying around if this is a potential homicide case. I wouldn’t think that that has anything to do with you. Man, he’s really reaching,” I said, shaking my head. “I hope he ends up falling flat on his own face trying to investigate this. He clearly thinks he’s above everyone else.”
“No, Indie. It’s not just that… the adhesive isn’t the same one I usually sell. It’s a much stronger version of it, and apparently it’s impervious to fairy magic. Magic of ours doesn’t really affect fairies, so the in theory the adhesive shouldn’t have been strong enough to stick his wings together like that.”
I wasn’t following. “Okay. Well that’s good then, right? No one can say anything if it wasn’t even your adhesive.”
“Chief Putnam said that I’m the only witch or wizard who’s known for possessing this kind of knowledge of potions and chemical magic. He doesn’t think anyone else could’ve made it, so he suspects that I made it. He wants to know who I sold it to… or if I used it myself.”
My jaw dropped and I jumped up, anger like flames licking at the sides of my face. “What? Is he nuts? How could he possibly know that you’re the only one who has the means to create something like that adhesive? What proof does he have? Besides, he can’t pin Helio’s death on you. Just because you do your magic differently than everyone else…” I shook my head. “What else did he say?”
“He’s expecting me to go in so he can take down a formal statement. I thought that was pretty standard and at first I wasn’t worried. But then he started talking about cameras outside of the school picking up some suspicious activity. And when I told him what I was doing that night it certainly didn’t help my situation.” She gazed into the fire blazing in the hearth, her dark eyes reflecting the heat. “I was out picking night hellebore since it only blooms at night. And the closest place to find it without having to go up to a higher elevation is behind Northern Mountains.”
I pictured the scenario. Fatima going behind the college in the darkness thanks to the late hour, cloaked easily in her long clothing. The same college campus where Helio was partying in his frat house. Honestly I could see how it looked a little odd, but that wasn’t enough to draw conclusions like that.
“Was he implying there was a camera that you showed up on?”
She nodded. “He told me as much. He even showed me the clip of it. It was pretty dark, so it was hard to see what exactly I was doing. Worse, when I left in the opposite way I came, it appears I’m going into the school. Which I didn’t. I just took the easier way down on the far side.” She swore softly under her breath.