by Amy Boyles
Picky, picky.
"Want me to get her?" Em said.
He nodded.
Her mouth curved into a smile. "I'll be right back." She exited in a puff of smoke.
Once I finished coughing and swatting the plume out of my face, I said, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"There is," Roman said.
Hope flared in my chest. Yes! I would get to be useful. "What is it?"
"You can stay out of it."
Pooh. "Fine. But don't think I'll jump next time you need a favor."
"Darlin'…" He smirked. "I expect I'll be the one doing the jumping."
I blushed. Not because what he said made any sense—because let's face it, it didn't—but because the intent look in his eyes let me know he wasn't talking about anything proper.
"On that note, I'll see you later."
***
By the time I reached my room, sweat beaded my chest. Heat flushed my body from Roman's searing gaze, not because I'd killed the AC when I caused the power outage earlier this morning. Luckily the electric had been fixed pretty quickly.
I fanned myself as I entered the room. "Boy, could I use a glass of tea."
"Dinner's in a few minutes," Milly said. "Can you wait?"
I collapsed onto the bed. "I look like the poster child for why you should be injecting hormones during menopause. Not sure I need to wait on a drink."
"Perhaps that bodyguard of yours is keeping you a little too worked up," Grandma said.
I raised my hand in a stop gesture. "Quit. Right now. Nothing's going on. Besides, I have a ton of other information."
Sera picked her way through the chair and ottoman, reaching the bed. "Tell us everything."
I told them most of it—the good parts, at least. From the unicorn king down to what I heard Margaret say. "So that's it. It seems so strange that Titus would tell us about unicorns dying and then Stormy mentioned that it was rumored Loretta was involved with magic theft."
"Classic he said/she said," Grandma said. "I should know. Years ago, when I was trying to wrangle a flock of harpies to do my bidding—on the harpy queen's order, by the way—the ones who wouldn't follow me said they were under strict orders from their queen not to do so. The ones who did follow, on the other hand, said that was a lie."
And that's how we roll. "Right. So what about it? Roman's interviewing Margaret right now to see if she's the killer."
"But that still leaves Stormy," Sera said.
"Does it?"
Milly stamped her cane. That stupid parrot flew off her shoulder and landed on the bed. I inched away from it. Possessed wood was not my thing. "Of course it still leaves Stormy. She's the one Sumi fingered for the murder. But why? Why does Loretta have a diary with Stormy's name all over it?"
I shrugged. "I don't know, but I think the poor girl's getting a bad rep."
"You think?" Sera asked.
I nodded. "Yes. In fact, I think we should do something nice for her."
"Like what?" she asked.
I tapped a finger against my lips in thought. "Why don't we make her a nice basket of treats and drop it off?"
"You realize she's a murder suspect?" Sera said.
Grandma swatted the air. "Bah. That girl didn't do it. That's why Roman hasn't arrested her. Go on. Make her a basket."
Milly shook her head. "She won't take it. Doesn't strike me as the type. Too proud."
I smiled as an idea formed in my head. "Then we'll sneak around her pride."
***
I stood on one side of Stormy's door, and Sera stood on the other. "Knock and get her out of the room," I whispered.
"For how long?" Sera whispered back.
I lifted my palms to my shoulders and shrugged. "How should I know? Long enough to drop this off."
"What? Like five minutes?"
"Sure."
Sera shooed me back around the corner so Stormy wouldn't see me. She knocked timidly like a mouse about to ask for a crumb of cheese. I rolled my eyes and popped my head around. "Louder," I whispered.
"Okay," she shot back. She tucked a strand of glossy hair behind one ear, puffed out her chest and gave the door one heck of a prissy knock.
There's my girl. The door arched open, the hinges softly creaking. I heard Stormy blow her nose. "What do you want?"
"Well, um. I was thinking that maybe you'd like to grab a cup of tea or something before dinner."
"I've already told the police everything I know."
"That's not what I want," Sera said. "I thought you could maybe use a friend."
Good job.
Stormy didn't say anything for a moment, so I peeked over the lip of the wall. A mass of black hair shrouded her head, cascading down her shoulders. Yesterday it had been so sleek, so coiffed, and now it was a hotter mess than my frizz head after a day on an Alabama lake.
"I don't know if I'm supposed to leave."
Sera hooked an arm through Stormy's. "Sure you are. None of us can leave the premises, but you're allowed to walk around. We won't go far, and if anyone starts to give you trouble, we'll come straight back."
Stormy clicked her tongue several times and finally said, "Okay." She shut the door behind her, and they walked down the hall. Stormy was brave to leave without her purse. Not that anyone, like myself, would steal it or anything. I guess I'm just one of those people who doesn't go anywhere without my wallet. Call me crazy. Call me uptight. Call me whatever. But you can't call me unprepared.
I slipped into the room with the basket of goodies in tow and surveyed my surroundings. An open suitcase lay draped over a chair. A pile of towels was heaped outside the bathroom door. A makeup bag, its contents strewn about, sat on the dresser, and a few odds and ends were sprinkled around.
I decided to set the basket on top of the dresser. After nestling the container full of crackers and candy atop the wooden surface, I turned it this way and that to make sure it looked nice and presentable. It did occur to me that perhaps Stormy would be mad that I'd sneaked into her room to leave the treats, so in the card I'd left an explanation that I was afraid another witch would steal it or destroy it out of spite.
Not liking the way I'd situated the crackers, I took out a few and placed them on the dresser. As I was rearranging them, I accidentally elbowed one of the packets. It fell, sliding under the bed. Ugh. Annoyed, I knelt down, hitching my rear end high in the air in what I knew to be a totally unflattering position. I lifted the dust ruffle and reached in to grab the crackers.
Instead, my fingers cascaded along the smooth edges of what felt like a wooden box.
Curiosity got the better of me. I dug my fingers into the sides and pulled it out. I totally had no right to snoop. I knew that. But what was a box doing beneath Stormy's bed? It wasn't like this was her house. Now, why would a box be hidden?
I sat up and skimmed my fingers over the intricately carved shapes that ribboned the top and bottom. Small wedges of wood were broken off from a couple of the corners, making it look old, nearly ancient. A bronze, crescent-shaped bolt was fixed in the latch. I thumbed it. It didn't give right away. The heat and humidity had probably made the metal expand. I pressed harder, and finally the crescent slid out from the latch. The hinges groaned as it opened. The scent of cedar assaulted my nose.
But it was what was inside that assaulted my eyes.
There, in bottom of the box, atop a cushion of black velvet, lay a heart.
A heart!
I dropped the box with a gasp. A wave of sickness filled my stomach.
Footsteps shuffled quickly down the hall.
Oh no!
I closed the box and pushed it under the bed. I rose, looked right and left, unsure of what to do.
The footsteps grew louder.
I spied the closet and dashed over to it.
The door opened.
Darkness surrounded me. Dim light sliced through the closet door slats. Someone stepped inside Stormy's room. Their movement stopped as if they were studying th
eir surroundings. My heart pounded, and I knew for sure that whoever it was would find me.
That was an interesting thought. Whoever it was. I knew Sera would bring Stormy back, and I also knew that Sera would make it a point to be very loud to give me some warning. Whoever stood on the other side of the closet wasn't Stormy. I pressed my fingers to the knob, tempted to jump out and see who it was. Then I realized I had no explanation for what I was doing here.
Footsteps approached. I wedged my back into the crease of the closet as a black shadow cut across the slices of light. The figure paused. The rush of blood pounded in my ears and my heartbeat thundered in my chest. I just knew I'd be discovered.
Then the intruder moved, padding quickly. The shadow strangled my light but only for half a second. Hurried footsteps crossed the floor. Hinges creaked as the door opened and closed.
I unlatched the door with a trembling hand, ready to take the box and leave. Roman had to see it. I tumbled from the closet, my knees weak as adrenaline pumped through my body. After wobbling over to the bed, I fell down and craned my neck beneath the dust ruffle.
The box was gone.
THIRTEEN
I sat at dinner, my nerves frayed. Witches mingled here and there. The evening didn't buzz with the same sort of energy from the night before, but a few witches clustered and talked, their voices low.
Grandma leaned over and patted my hand. I bolted upright. She stared at me as if I'd grown a second head. I flattened the creases etching into my brow. "Sorry. Just a little nervous."
I hadn't told anyone about the box. What was I going to say? I snooped around in Stormy's room, found a box with some kind of heart in it, and then someone else came and stole it? At best, Roman would believe me. At worst, he would lock me up for interfering with an investigation.
Don't think I wouldn't put it past him to do that.
I hadn't even left the goody basket. I'd taken it with me and tossed it into the outside dumpster. When Sera asked me about it later, I said I'd chickened out and hadn't left it.
Grandma adjusted the rings on her index finger. "Don't be nervous, dear. There's nothing to be so jumpy about. It's not as if you committed a murder."
I shot her a dark look. Grandma only smiled and shrugged.
"Tell me, how was your trip to Fairyland?"
"I thought we'd gone over this," I said.
"Not really. You told us a few things, but you didn't go into how the experience made you feel."
I massaged my temples and thought happy thoughts. "How did it make me feel? Fairies wanted to kill me, I was asked to help solve a unicorn murder, and you transported me there without my consent—how do you think I felt?"
She lifted her fork. "You consented, remember?"
"Right. I almost forgot. Picking Fairyland over the Alps counts as consent. However”—I fished the opal from my pocket and displayed it on the table—"there was one upside. Titus gave me this."
Grandma peered over my shoulder. "He gave you one of their opals? These are very rare." Her fingers wrapped around the stone and held it to the light.
"It helps focus my magic."
Sera sat at the table, her plate stacked high with fruit and cheese. "What does?"
"The opal that Titus gave me."
"You didn't tell me he gave you an opal."
I gave her a sheepish smile. "Guess I forgot. In case you haven't noticed, there's been a lot going on lately."
"You're forgiven. Where is it?"
"Right here," Grandma said, passing it to Sera.
Her eyes ignited with delight. "Wow. It's beautiful. I want one."
I smirked. "Next time it can be you that Grandma sends off to Fairyland."
Sera bit into a cube of cheese. "How'd she send you anywhere? I thought we were all stuck here."
I pivoted to her. "That's right. How'd you do that?"
Grandma shrugged innocently. "I spoke to Em. She gave me the ability to do such a thing if need be."
"How?" I asked.
"She gave me the code."
I stared at her. "The code?"
"Correct."
"What kind of code?" I asked.
"A witch's code, of course."
"Of course," I said.
Sera tucked a napkin onto her lap. "Didn't you know? There's such a thing as a witch's code. It's like numbers on a padlock."
"Don't be ridiculous," Milly said. She caned up to the table and sat with a humpf. "A witch's code is no such thing."
"No such thing," squawked the parrot.
"Could we have one meal without that wooden bird hanging around?"
Milly's thin lips split into a smile. Her hawkish nose dipped over her chin, giving her a wicked-witch sort of look, but hey, at least she was attempting a smile. "Polly keeps me company. It's good to have him around. I never know when I might need him to keep away annoying people."
"So its name is Polly?" I asked, impressed with my guessing capabilities.
She reached for her glass of iced tea. "Meh. Sounded as good as any other name. And he doesn't care what he's called."
"So you keep him on your shoulder to avoid annoying people?" Sera asked.
"Why else?"
Sera shrugged. "I don't know. To annoy us, maybe."
"Ha! If I wanted to annoy you, I'd use magic. I don't need Polly to do that."
"I wouldn't tempt her," I said. "But speaking of annoying things, I think we need to bring Reid back."
"Whyever why?" Grandma asked. "She's useless here since she doesn't have magic."
"Jenny Butts picked her up."
"Who?" Grandma asked, forking a scalloped potato.
"You know, the Mouth of the South," Sera said.
"Oh." She paused, chewing for a moment. "And are you afraid she, too, will take on this bigmouthed quality? Because I remember a time when the fairies in Fairyland were having gossip contests to see who could wreak the most havoc. Perhaps the girls are working on one of those."
Right. And monkeys fly. Which was true, according to my grandmother. "It's not that I'm worried about."
All gazes stared at me, nearly burning a hole in my head. "Okay, so I am worried about that, which is why I think we need to bring her back here. At least until all this is over. Roman promised the witches that they only had to stay one more day."
"Dearie, I've got the perfect potion for that zit on your cheek."
I swiveled my head and found Jean Noir, purveyor of potions, hovering beside me. "Excuse me?"
"That zit on your cheek," she said, toothy grin gaping.
I shook my head. "I don't have a zit on my cheek."
"You might want to check that again."
I frowned. When I’d checked in the mirror before we came down to dinner, I didn't have even a hint of a mound on my skin. But as my fingers brushed my cheek, they ran right over the sensitive hill of a blemish.
"Where'd that come from?"
Jean offered a sympathetic smile. "Perhaps you could use this." She pilfered through her basket. "I know it's in here. Just saw it this morning. There it is!" She yanked out a tapered vial containing a creamy pink liquid. "One drop on that blemish and it'll vanish. Promise guaranteed." She smiled wide.
"Um, didn't you turn someone into a toad?" I asked.
"A bat," Milly said.
Jean bristled. "No. I never did. That was a lie perpetuated by those awful twins."
Sera quirked an eyebrow. "Awful twins?"
Jean fumbled over her words. "Well, it's terrible what happened to Loretta, of course. But I wouldn't say she didn't have it coming."
"You wouldn't happen to have any trollop flower in that basket, would you?" I asked.
Jean's gaze brandished me. Whew. Boy, was it getting hot in here. "No. I don't. And I don't appreciate being questioned by a woman who can't even work magic." With that, Jean huffed off, potions and all.
Sera bit into a slice of apple with a crunch. "That was interesting."
I watched Jean saunter away, heading to
another table to sell her wares. I touched the tender bump on my cheek. "Do you think she made this zit appear on purpose?"
"Probably," Milly said.
"Uh. I wish I knew magic. I'd give her a zit," I said.
"Give who a zit?" Em's voice sounded behind me.
Great. Just what I needed.
Queen Witch jerked back a chair and plopped down, her cloud of curls tumbling onto the table. "Tell me, chickadee. Exactly who are you planning on giving a zit to? ’Cause I really hope you ain't planning any ill intentions on anyone. That's not good witchcraft. No, sir. That ain't good at all. So tell me you weren't goin' to do something bad."
"Okaaay, I'm not planning on doing anything bad to anyone."
Em propped her elbows on the table and rested her pointy chin atop folded hands. "I'm gonna try real hard to believe that. Real hard. But I cain't make no promises."
I eyed her as she took a bite of the salad heaped on her plate. "Are you joining us for dinner?"
"Apparently I'm gonna have to; otherwise, you might go off and do somethin' stupid."
I tossed my napkin on the table. "It was a joke. A joke. Queen Witch or no, you don't have any right to speak to me like that, especially when we're all stuck here."
"As long as you don't go around trying to have me arrested for attempted murder, everythin' should turn out all right."
"That was a mistake," I yelled. Witches stopped eating. They stared. I placed my hands on both burning cheeks. "Do not sit here and chastise me like I'm six and a half years old."
Em puckered her lips and shook her head. "Some people are so sensitive."
Okay, that was it. "I'm sensitive? I'm sensitive? I'm not the one who brought this gaggle of witches together to get back at me. That was you, not me. And now look what's happened. One of them is dead. So whose fault is that?"
"Probably Loretta's, if I had to guess," Grandma said.
I shot her a venomous glare. She sewed her mouth shut.
Em didn't say anything. Good. About time someone shut the Queen Witch up. "So. If you're all finished throwing backhanded insults at me, you can eat your dinner and be quiet."
Em sighed. "That was a good minute of my life I ain't never gettin' back."