by Amy Boyles
Ooo, this was good. A lead. "Are you going to follow up on it?"
He shot me a dark look. "I know how to do my job, darlin'. I follow up on everything." He rested a hand on his hip. The muscles in his bicep practically rippled as they moved. A curious thought occurred to me.
"You gonna go work out today? Or are you going to stay cooped up in here?"
He cocked his head. "Why? You want to join me?"
Whoa. Wait. Hold your horses. "I was only asking. I know how important it is for you to look good, is all. Besides, I don't think I could lift a thousand pounds like you."
"Right, because a thousand pounds is the minimum I bench-press."
I lifted my hands in surrender. "I don't know how strong you are."
"It's cardio day. Not weights. I'll run later. Want to come?"
I was trying to put distance between us. Distance. Why did I have to go and open my big mouth? I wanted to say no. I really did, but Roman was looking at me with those green eyes, and he was big and strong like a football player, and to be honest, he hadn't made one rude move toward me. What harm could come of it? Besides, once he saw how out of shape I was, he wouldn't be interested anymore.
"Sure," I said. "I'll go on a run with you." I could do a mile or two probably. Maybe. "How far are you going to go?"
"Ten miles."
I gulped.
"I'll come get you later. Now if that's all you wanted to tell me, I need to get back to work."
"Don't you care? That's huge. Stealing magic?"
His jaw twitched. His eyes hardened, but all he said was, "I follow up on all leads, Dylan. All of them. Why don't you go relax by the pool and I'll find you later."
"They have a pool here?"
***
I found Grandma, Reid and Sera lounging in beach-style chairs by the motel-sized swimming pool. Grandma wore a light linen outfit, while Reid and Sera both had on bathing suits. Where did they get those?
"Dylan, finally you're here," Grandma said. "Perhaps you can answer this question for me."
"Here we go," Sera muttered.
I plopped down into an empty chair beside her. "Doesn't it seem strange that we're lounging by a pool when someone died?"
Grandma shrugged. "It's not as if she didn't have it coming to her. Everyone says Loretta was stealing magic."
Wow. Apparently I was late to this gravy train. "How do you know that?"
She shrugged. "I'm a grandma. I know everything."
"Still came out pretty harsh," I said.
Grandma's face darkened. "My dear girl, only the vilest of the vile do that. You haven't seen what I've seen in this world. When a person steals power from another, it is a disgusting, terrible act. If this witch did that, then she deserved the poison in her food."
"Harsh."
Grandma adjusted her floppy straw hat so she could see me better. "But anyway, I have a question for you."
"I'm all ears," I said.
"No, you're not all ears. You're Dylan, too."
"What?" I asked, confused.
"I said you're not made up entirely of ears."
Good grief. "What's the question?"
"If you had a choice of places to visit, would you pick Fairyland or Switzerland?"
I glanced at Sera. "Is this a real question?"
She nodded.
"And now it's your turn to answer," Reid chirped. "Choose wisely. For it may be the last thing you do."
If she'd been close enough, I would've thumped her forehead. But alas, my baby sis sat safely two lounge chairs away.
"Grandma, I need some details if I'm to make the right decision here. Tell me about Fairyland."
She stroked her chin in thought. "In Fairyland you're surrounded by twinkling lights and lush green foliage. There are beautiful waterfalls to see and interesting characters to meet."
"Sounds pleasant," I said. "What about accommodations? Is there a four-star hotel anywhere?"
Grandma shook her head. "No hotels, though you'd probably stay with a nice family in their hut."
"Now Switzerland. Tell me about it."
"They have the Alps."
I waited. No response. "Is that it? That's the whole comparison?"
"Never should've gotten her started," Sera said as she thumbed a magazine.
Grandma slapped her thighs. "That's it. Now tell me, which one would you choose?"
I clicked my tongue, pretending to weigh the decision with a thousand pounds of thought. I squinted at her. "Well, if it came right down to it—and you say all Switzerland has is the Alps?"
"That's it. That's all you'll be visiting."
"Hmmm. In that case, I suppose I have to go with Fairyland."
A spark ignited in her eyes. "Wise decision. I'll let them know."
Wait. "What? Let who know?"
"The fairies, of course. Though generally they hate witches and kill them on sight, they might make an exception for you."
I rose. "I'm not going to Fairyland."
She shrugged. "We'll see. It's not only fairies, you know. The unicorns reside there as well."
"They kill witches on sight, too." My stomach soured. What had I gotten myself into? "Grandma, you're not really going to send me there, are you?"
She licked her thumb, picked up a paperback novel and turned several pages. "I don't know. We'll have to see. But when someone says they wish to visit Fairyland, the fairies hear and they often comply."
"What?"
"See?" Sera said. "We tried to warn you."
"But you didn't warn me," I shrieked. "You didn't say anything."
"Didn't we warn her?" Sera asked Reid.
"I thought we did."
"No, you didn't. You didn't at all."
A witch I didn't know burst out onto the patio. She threw her hands into the air and shrieked, "Help! Sumi's collapsed!"
SEVEN
Every witch within earshot piled into the foyer, ready to help. Sumi, a black veil over her face, lay sprawled on the floor. She clenched a book to her chest with one hand and pointed a condemning finger at Stormy Hellmount, who clutched the pole of the staircase like a Kansas tornado was about to blow her away.
"You had it in for Loretta all this time. After we revealed that Stormy's baby swaddler company had made babies fly, she sent Loretta threatening letters. They're all here, in my sister's diary!" She raised the small, leather-bound book high in the air.
Stormy took a step back. "I didn't kill her."
"But you sent the letters," Sumi accused.
Stormy shook her head violently. "I didn't… That was a long time ago." The words spilled from her lips as her face turned ashen.
Roman strode into the room. The sea of witches parted for him. Half of them ogled his stony frame. They might not have known he was wanted by the witch police, but boy did they think he was handsome.
Not that it was difficult to know something so obvious.
"Both of you," he said in a deep, intimidating voice. "Come with me."
"I'm not going anywhere with her. She'll try to kill me, too. I know it. I just know it." Sumi burst into shoulder-racking sobs.
He extended his palm. "Give me the book."
"Gladly." She hiccuped and handed it over. He helped Sumi to her feet. Her knees wobbled as she rose.
Roman thumbed through the diary, shuffling his weight from hip to hip. He glanced at Stormy. "Em will take you back to your room." He nodded to Queen Witch, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
She wrapped a hand around Stormy's arm. "Come with me, chicklet."
Stormy's face crumbled. She moved feebly as Em led her up the stairs. "Well, I guess that wraps things up," Sera said.
"I don't know," I said. "I talked to Stormy a few times. She didn't strike me as a killer."
A couple of witches standing nearby looked over as if they wanted to eavesdrop.
"Come on," Sera said. "Let's talk about this somewhere else."
***
We sat in our makeshift bedr
oom, all four of us—Grandma, Reid, Sera and me.
"So you don't think Stormy did it?" Sera asked me.
"No. I mean, she may have written those letters. Sometimes people get mad and spout things off. Doesn't mean they're killers."
"Most killers I know don't spout much of anything. They're too busy killing," Grandma said.
"How many killers do you know?" I asked.
"Not many."
Reid twirled one of her burgundy curls around a finger. "So Sumi found some letters in Loretta's diary?"
Sera nodded. "That's how I took it."
The door banged open. "That's how you took what?" Milly caned her way into our room, that stupid wooden parrot still on her shoulder.
"Do you mind?" I said, pointing to the door.
She thumbed her nose, and the door floated shut.
"That's another thing," I said. "How is it okay that the folks who work here are spelled not to notice any of the magic being mentioned or performed? I mean that weird Jean woman was running around at dinner trying to get all of us to buy potions."
"Noir," Grandma said.
"What?" I asked.
"Her last name is Noir. Jean Noir. It's not Jean Woman."
There was no reply I could make to that.
Milly shrugged. "I imagine Em applied for a waiver from a judge."
"A waiver from a judge," Sera mused. "And the witch police still aren't involved."
Milly sat on the single chair in our room with a huff. "She is Queen Witch. That gives her a lot of pull."
"Whatever," I said. "It seems you witches make up the rules as you go along."
"Speaking of making up rules, I've been thinking."
"Been thinking," the parrot screeched.
I wiggled my finger in my ear, wringing out my nearly popped eardrum. "About what?"
"There's a spell you should know," Milly said, a smug smile on her face.
"And what would this be? Learning how to sniff out poison in our food?" Reid asked.
"You mean Sera and Dylan learning," Grandma corrected. "Not you, dear. With your inability to work magic, you'd be lucky to smell out a can of Alpo from a can of tuna."
Reid crossed her arms in a dramatic pout. "What's that mean? I can tell the difference between dog food and fish, thank you very much."
"Sure you can." Grandma sat on the bed. The springs bent and squeaked under her weight, which wasn't much. Grandma Hazel was a slim slip of a thing. "Now Milly, what's this all about?"
"I want to teach the girls how to make a force field."
"OMG, how cool! That's totally sci-fi," Reid squealed. "I can't wait…to watch," she finished, her enthusiasm faltering as she realized for the umpteenth time that she had no power and she wouldn't be performing the spell.
"So how exactly does this help us?" I asked.
"You can create an impenetrable force field around yourself—one that no one can get through."
Yeah, right. "So we'll be invincible?"
Milly lifted her hand and did a so-so gesture. "As much as you can be. Let's face it; you're not the most skilled witches in the world. You'll be lucky to create a bubble that lasts a good ten seconds."
Sera picked a bit of lint from her swimsuit cover-up. "Why are we learning this again if we're not good at what we do, and we won't be able to make it last very long?"
"What if someone pulls a gun on you? You'll need to know this technique." Milly paused. Stared at us. "Now if you're both finished bickering, would you like to learn?"
I shrugged. "I guess."
Grandma splayed a hand over her heart in shock. "Dylan, don't you embrace your natural powers?"
"All I'd like to embrace is my own bed and a fresh set of clothes."
"Squawk! Fresh clothes!"
"And I'd almost forgotten that he's here," I said, wringing out my ear.
"If you're finished complaining, stand up and get ready."
I rose slowly, reluctant to learn this. Yes, it would be cool, but honestly I didn't see the need at the moment to make sure I could create a force field. I arched my back, stretching out the kinks. When I righted myself, I shook out my hands and rolled my neck, readying for the bit of magic I was to learn.
Sera quirked an eyebrow at me. "You all set over there? Or do you need a few more minutes to warm up for the big race?"
"Very funny."
Milly glared us into silence. After a moment of quiet clouded the room, she rested the cane between her black orthopedic shoes and curled her hands over the knob. "A force field is a useful witch tool to have. What it does is simple—it creates a bubble of protection around you so that if someone is trying to kill you with a knife or gun, or even if another witch is trying to cast a spell on you, the field that encloses you will keep you safe. Do you understand?"
I nodded. "Seems simple enough."
Milly glanced at Sera, who nodded. "You know, this would have come in handy a few weeks ago when someone was trying to kill us."
"You were barely able to work the other spells that Em taught you. Do you think you could have juggled one more?"
"We could have tried," Sera mumbled.
"Well, I'm teaching you now."
"I think we should just say thank you and be grateful," I whispered to my sister.
"Whatever," she muttered.
"The key to the force-field spell is to pull energy from the air and command it to surround you."
"Perhaps you could explain that better," I said.
Milly cleared her throat. "Close your eyes and imagine the air is full of little dots."
I closed my eyes and envisioned a roomful of chicken pox. Little polkas danced around in my imagination.
"Okay," I said.
"Energy—or magic—is everywhere. As I believe you know, magic is physics based. Energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred. So to make a force field, you're going to pull the electric energy from the air. Think of Benjamin Franklin and the kite. When the lightning hit his kite, electricity zapped the key. Energy. You're going to pull that same force toward you and create the field."
I let that sink in. "So we're actually spelling the electricity inherent in the air?"
"Yes. That creates the field. However long it lasts is up to you and your focus."
I exhaled. "Okay. I think I'm ready to try it."
"Me too," Sera said.
"Ready, set, go!" Grandma said.
I opened my eye a slit. "This isn't a race."
Grandma fluffed her hair. "I know. I'm trying to get you, as they say, pumped."
"I don't need any pumping, thanks anyway," I said.
"Me neither," Sera added.
Grandma dismissed us with a contemptuous wave. "Fine. Good luck."
Milly thumped the cane on the floor. "When you're ready, close your eyes, see the energy and wrap it around you."
Closing my eyes, I did as she said. Little chicken pox floated before me on an invisible current. I tugged at them. They resisted. I pulled again. They gave a little but still wouldn't come close enough to surround me. It was almost as if the particles were being vacuumed in the opposite direction, so I did the only thing I knew to do—I heaved harder.
The little suckers still wouldn't give. I decided if I gave it a good old-fashioned tug-of-war-style pull, I'd get them to do exactly what I needed. So I focused on the dots, wrapped invisible arms around them and tried to draw them in.
They still didn't budge.
"Wait, you two," Milly said.
I heard her but didn't want to give up on the spell. Pinpointing all my mental focus on the pox, I yanked like I'd never yanked before. The dots rushed toward me. Then they paused in midair as if suspended underwater. They remained like that for half a second, then they exploded out, shattering back against the walls. I opened my eyes as a blue wave of magic washed over the room.
Ping.
Ping.
Ping.
Every lightbulb in the room exploded into glassy fragments.
&n
bsp; "Oh no," Sera yelled, jumping on a bed.
"Ah!" Grandma shrieked.
"Stop it," Reid said.
Ping ping ping ping.
The sounds came from across the hallway. Witches screamed.
Ping ping ping ping.
More screams. More shrieks.
A loud pop sounded from outside. I flew across the room and pushed back the drapes. The box atop an electrical pole sparked as if it had been zapped by a lightning bolt.
Crap.
I gave Milly a weary look. "Did we do that?"
She scowled. "I'm afraid so. Both of you were competing for the same energy. The whole spell backfired, and now we've got a blackout on our hands."
I cringed. "Can you fix it?"
"Do I look like a line worker to you?" Milly asked.
"Well, you don't have to be so huffy about it. You're a witch. I figured you could fix just about anything."
"Yeah," Reid said. "Maybe we should leave this one to the expert line guys."
"Why's that?" Sera asked.
Reid shrugged. "'Cause we might see some hunky men."
"Oh boy," I said.
"That reminds me," Reid said.
"Reminds you of what?" I said.
"I don't see why I have to be here. I mean, I'm not a witch. I should be able to go home and stay with Nan, right?"
"How did talking about hunky men remind you that you needed to go home?" Sera said.
Reid shrugged. "I don't know. Men working on the electricity reminded me of home, is all."
"Sure," I said, "and I'm a monkey's uncle."
"Don't say that," Grandma said. "I've met a monkey's uncle before, and you're much prettier."
"Thanks, Grandma."
She gave me a bright smile. "You're welcome, but when you go to Fairyland, be sure not to mention monkeys’ uncles. They're not particularly fond of monkeys there."
"Why does that not surprise me?"
"Not surprise me," squawked Polly. Was his name actually Polly, or had I just made that up? Pretty sure I needed to call the wooden annoyance something, and Polly seemed as good as anything.
A fist thundered against the door. "Dylan Apel, you come out here right now."