by Carrie Jones
“Right.” Annie took his arm as they descended the stairs to join Eva and Bloom. “And no matter what, we have each other.”
“Right.”
She just hoped each other would be enough.
The rest of the morning passed and still they were no closer to finding Miss Cornelia. When the front door opened and Gramma Doris bustled into the house, carrying an armload of groceries, the children mobbed her, demanding if she knew Miss Cornelia’s whereabouts.
The stout, gray-haired woman handed her groceries to Jamie and Eva and bustled to the kitchen, taking off her coat and hat, all business. She was in charge of feeding everyone who lived at Aquarius House as well as whoever tended to show up for the evening meal, which was always served backward starting with dessert and ending with appetizers. Still, she paused and offered them her soft, kindly face as she said, “Why, no, I haven’t. But Corny is a busy woman, you know. Perhaps she went into town? It’s nothing to panic about. Why are you panicking?”
So, they told her about the food in the fridge, the walls’ missing letters and not telling them updates about the day, and how Jamie and Bloom both just had bad feelings about things. Eva scoffed at that part.
Gramma Doris opened the fridge, nonplussed. “Well, let’s see.”
“HELLO, DORIS! WELL, HELLO, DORIS! DON’T YOU WANT TO MAKE A PIE TODAY? … DORIS!” sang out the eggs and milk.
“Yes, of course,” she told the fridge. “Momentarily.” Shutting the refrigerator door, she turned back to the children, smiling. “See? Nothing to worry about.”
“But couldn’t that be your magic?” Annie asked quietly. “You’re a brounie, so you have household magic, right?”
Gramma Doris hopped onto one foot and pulled a grape out of midair. “I do, dear. I do. But I really think it’s all okay. It is lovely of you, yes … yes … lovely of you to worry, since it shows you care … If you are so worried about Cornelia, why don’t you go look around town? Judging by your stressed faces, you need to get out in the fresh air. And take some cookies with you!”
She snapped her fingers and a large canister popped its lid off. Chocolate chocolate yum cookies soared up and onto the counter by the sink, marching in a line into a waiting paper bag. Once it was full, Gramma Doris handed it to Jamie. “There. Provisions.”
They thanked her and went to the front room to gather boots and coats. The world was wintry cold and still covered with snow from last night’s storm.
As they took their coats off pegs, Bloom opened the shoe closet and hopped backward.
“We’ll see if this magic still works,” he said as he hustled out of the way.
“What magic?” Jamie asked.
Bloom didn’t need to answer. It was obvious as the boots marched out of the closet by the front door in perfect lines. There was every kind of snow boot Jamie or Annie could imagine.
“Look!” Eva did a little jig, spinning and stomping around in a happy circle. “That’s Miss Cornelia magic right there. RIGHT THERE!” she insisted. “And it’s perfectly normal go—”
Her voice petered out as the boots all fell over on their sides and flopped about like fish yanked out of the ocean water. Then the boots stopped, completely still.
“Oh,” Eva whispered, grabbing her ax. “That’s not good.”
“This is what I’ve been saying!” Bloom sighed, exasperated, hauling boots out of the pile for each of them, muttering things such as “This looks like your size,” and “Why doesn’t Eva ever just believe me,” and “Harrumph.”
They headed first to town, trudging through the long snowy driveway that descended from Aquarius House, which was perched at the top of the hill, and then down to the town proper, full of its rock walls and wooden buildings. Jamie surveyed the landscape as they walked, but spotted nothing out of the ordinary, even for a magical town. Snow-covered blueberry barrens rolled gently to one side with a random tree or boulder sticking up out of the land. The ocean, gray and rough, full of wind-induced whitecaps, was a bit more distant. Thick Maine forests full of overgrown Christmas trees rolled up into the somewhat mellow mountains of Acadia National Park and the rest of the island.
“Let’s try Canin’s first,” Bloom said, referring to the gruff, not-so-friendly werewolf who ran the general store in town. “I’m not sure we’re ready to take this to the mayor yet, and Canin always knows what’s going on in this place.”
“Miss Cornelia will be fine,” Annie whispered insistently without making eye contact with him or the others.
Bloom put his arm around Annie’s shoulder, hustling her into Canin’s shop. “Of course she will. Of course.”
Eva and Jamie followed them inside.
Despite the fact that Canin looked anything but jolly, the doorbell to Canin’s store rang out “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” as they entered the dust-filled establishment. His wild white hair sprang out from beneath his Red Sox baseball cap in unruly tufts. His practically nonexistent lips didn’t even begin to twitch into a half smile as the door slammed shut behind the kids. However, he did manage to lift one bushy eyebrow up toward the bill of the cap and grunt out a hello.
Jamie thought this was probably progress, since just yesterday Canin was inspecting him for signs of troll and Annie for signs of cowardice. A grunted greeting was at least slightly better than that.
“Hello, Canin!” Bloom sang out in a chipper, elfy way.
“Hello,” Canin said again, sniffing at them, his wolfish ears back.
Eva saddled up toward the counter like a cowboy heading up to the bar, all swagger and confidence. “Look. We’re here on business. These companions of mine”—she gestured back toward Jamie, Annie, and Bloom—“think that something might be up with Miss Cornelia. They have quote, unquote feelings. They think the magic is off. We’ve hunted all throughout Aquarius House. Can’t find her. Asked Gramma Doris. She’s not worried, but she hasn’t seen her. So now we’re here … asking you.”
Canin chewed on a pencil, inserted the whole thing into his mouth, and then spat it out. All that was left of it were toothpicks. “Asking me what exactly?”
“If you have seen her. If you feel like the magic is off,” Annie blurted.
“Gramma Doris said we were worrying about nothing,” Eva said. “I think she’s right … Maybe …”
“Worry is never about nothing,” Canin grumped. “Sometimes it’s pointless because you can’t fix things. Sometimes it’s pointless because what you’re worrying about isn’t real. But just because something isn’t real doesn’t mean it’s nothing. Get me?”
He glared directly at Annie. She was too intimidated to tell him the truth, which was that she didn’t understand what he was saying at all, actually.
“You make no sense,” Eva blustered.
“Eva!” Annie scolded. “You’re being rude.”
“Honest, I’m being honest,” Eva corrected, fiddling with a box labeled “Cantankerous Canine Dog Treats of Happiness.”
Jamie cleared his throat. “What do you think, um, sir?”
The shop seemed to get closer to them as Canin filled up his lungs with a long, harsh, raggedy breath. Even the ceiling seemed to be sucked down a couple of inches lower. As usual, Canin’s store was full of strange products nobody had ever heard of before, all containing magic potions for one purpose or another. A gallon of Ancestral Memories fell off a nearby shelf and rolled into Bloom’s foot as they waited for Canin’s answer.
“Should we be worried about Miss Cornelia?” Annie’s voice squeaked. Canin made her nervous.
Everyone stared at her. She took a frightened step backward, knocking over a bar of Pretty All the Time Soap and a plastic jar of As Big as You Wish. Eighteen mice scurried from under the floorboards, lifted up the soap onto their tiny shoulders, and marched with it back into a hole in the wall, chattering excitedly. Another followed, rolling the jar into the hole.
“Drunken unicorn blood,” Canin sputtered. “As soon as those mice get that jar unscrewed, we’re
going to have giant mice around town for the next twenty-four hours. Everyone better hide their cheese.”
“Sorry,” Annie whispered.
“You better be!” Canin growled. He slammed both his hands down on the counter. The force burst the cash register’s drawer open. It rang as it hit the wall and money fluttered out into the air, turning into birds. Canin growled again, rattling off a string of random mutterings about bat poop and vampire vomit.
The children raced around the shop, helping him catch the money. They let the one that fell in a vat of Instantly Hairy Hairiness stay there. Nobody wanted to risk their fingers becoming instantly hairy hairiness.
As soon as that was taken care of, Canin sighed. “Obviously, the store’s magic still works.”
“Which means …,” Annie prodded.
“Which means that if Miss Cornelia is gone, or if something has happened to her, she is not dead.” He paused and looked thoughtful.
“But?” Annie asked.
“But, my dollar bills have never tried to escape before. The mice have never just stolen something so blatantly, and that means … that the magic is most definitely off.”
Silence descended on the shop. Even the mice stopped skittering in the walls. The bags of semitransparent daggers no longer rustled. The cans of conjure dust no longer hummed.
“Which means?” Annie whispered, grabbing Eva’s free hand (the one without the ax) and squeezing it.
“It means that something is wrong with Miss Cornelia.” He refused to make eye contact with them, staring at the ceiling. “It could just be age. Her … her sorrow has made her weaker and so has her age, but now that Annie is here she should be getting stronger, happier.”
Annie’s heart dropped. She had failed somehow, hadn’t she? Was she not what Miss Cornelia expected? Was the lessening magic somehow her fault? Everything was always her fault. That’s what her last foster people had thought.
Braving herself up, Annie strode across the store and placed her hands on the high counter, going up on tiptoe, and said in a clear, sure voice, “The first step is to find Miss Cornelia. To look everywhere. To see if she is hurt or weak somewhere.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned toward Annie.
“I mean, isn’t it?”
Bloom tightened his cloak around his neck. “It is.”
“We should go throughout the town and ask if anyone has seen her. Isn’t that what we were already doing?” Eva asked.
It was.
“But now we have Canin to help, right?” Annie turned back toward him. He was shoving on his winter coat.
“I will take the far houses. I am faster than most of you. As you ask, get others to help you. Try not to panic anyone …” He hustled them out of the little store, locking the door behind them.
“I thought nobody locks their doors in Aurora,” Jamie whispered to Annie.
“Apparently he does,” she answered as Canin raced off, “and the mayor.”
“That was different,” Jamie said. “There was a monster that night.”
“True,” Annie agreed, but somehow it didn’t feel different. It felt bad, just like now.
3
Bossy Girls for the Win
The children split up into groups of two, with Tala heading off with Annie and Eva. They rushed from house to shop to tower to burrow, asking if anyone had seen Miss Cornelia that morning. Nobody had.
“This is a waste of time.” Eva plopped on the rock wall, not even bothering to brush the snow off the top.
“What else can we do? I wish we could send out an all-points bulletin like the police or the FBI …,” Annie said.
Eva panted a little bit, short of breath. After a moment she bounced off.
“I’ve got it!” she yelled. “Follow me!”
She scurried off back toward her house, yanking open the small door, and rushing in a hobbling sort of way toward a wooden cupboard. Jerking open the bottom doors, she started hauling out steel pots, biscuit makers, axes, a scythe-type weapon, and a doll.
“That is not mine!” she shouted, face flushing as she pulled out the doll. “Look away.”
Annie pretended to glance away, but managed to see out of the corner of her eye as Eva kissed the doll’s fabric cheek and fixed her black hair before squirreling her away into a pot.
“You can look now,” Eva declared as she pulled out a bunch of rocket-shaped tubes with large candlewicks sticking to the end. “Take some of these.”
She smashed an armload into Annie’s chest. Annie grabbed them with a tiny harrumphing noise.
“Do you think I’m bossy?” Eva asked, seemingly switching the topic out of nowhere as she grabbed some tubes and kicked the cupboard door shut with her boot.
Readjusting her load, Annie took a moment to figure out how to respond. “I think people always call girls bossy, and if boys do the same exact thing, people say they are leaders.”
Eva squinted at her.
“I’m saying you’re a leader, Eva,” Annie explained as she tried not to drop anything.
Eva head-butted Annie’s arm so hard Annie staggered back into the edge of the couch. “I knew I liked you.”
Annie wanted to rub her arm, but her hands were full. “Thanks?”
“Anytime. Want me to head-butt the other one so the pain ain’t lopsided?” Eva hopped around a bit, excitement filling her face. “These are fireworks.”
“No, I meant thank you for liking me.” Annie cleared her throat. “Um, are you sure we should be doing this? Where I used to live, lighting fireworks was illegal, and it’s sort of dangerous.”
Eva froze. “Are you kidding me?”
“Um … no.”
“You’re in Aurora now, Annie. Different rules. Danger is everywhere. Kids are allowed outside to play. We are supposed to explore. Wow. Sometimes you are so … human.”
Annie never realized “human” could be an insult. She thought about that a bit as she followed Eva back to the street and then halfway up the hill to Aquarius House. The dwarf finally stopped in a blueberry barren, dropping the fireworks in a big heap on the snow.
“Now, help me set this up,” Eva ordered, and Annie assisted her as she placed the long cylinders in the snow at appropriate angles. Some had zigzag edges. Some were covered in teal polka dots. Some seemed to quiver and bark like dogs.
Eva inspected their handiwork. “That looks right … I think … Yeah … Well, let’s hope.”
“Hope? Doesn’t it have to be—”
Eva cut her off, running between the firework rockets with a giant match. She lit them all and dived backward, knocking Annie to the ground. Tala growled and leaped away with them.
“Hold your ears!” Eva yelled.
Tala buried his head in the snow. Annie managed to untangle herself from Eva just before eight resounding explosions shook the entire field.
Boom! The red rocket full of stars vaulted into the sky spelling out Horns seemed to bellow from the word.
Boom! Another rocket flew up, creating a picture of Miss Cornelia’s face.
Boom! More words as another rocket exploded.
Boom! this rocket said.
Boom!
Boom! Another picture of Miss Cornelia’s face as the words fizzled out.
Boom! The polka-dot rocket spiraled into the sky and dissolved.
“Crud,” Eva cursed.
Boom! The last rocket launched into the sky and dissolved into bright spiraling lights.
Eva sat up, smiling, removing her hands from her ears. Tala pulled his head out of the snow. “That worked brilliantly, if I do say so myself.”
“So now what do we do?” Annie asked as the last of the fireworks dissipated.
“I, Eva Beryl-Axe, the leader, not the bossy girl, think that we should go back to Aquarius House and wait.”
Jamie and Bloom had taken the other side of town, quietly going from house to burrow to lawn chair in an attempt to get information about Miss Cornelia in a nonterrifying way.
They were just outside the library’s stone gates when Eva’s fireworks lit the sky.
Bloom gasped. “Well, that was subtle.”
Jamie agreed. He straightened his coat. His stomach rumbled; he was already hungry again. “I guess we might as well just go back.”
They had barely returned to Aquarius House and taken off their winter clothes, and Bloom had just started arguing with Eva about the fireworks, when the front door burst open and a mass of townspeople crowded inside. Jamie was not big on crowds, not used to them at all, being from Mount Desert with a year-round population of fifteen hundred spread-apart people.
As three hags gathered around the boot closet and some fairies fluttered up to the ceiling, Jamie staggered backward and said, frightened, “Annie …?”
“It’ll be okay, Jamie.” She glanced at Bloom for reassurance, most likely, but from what Jamie could tell the elf looked as overwhelmed as Jamie felt.
“No worries,” Bloom whispered.
“What the heck?” Eva bellowed, jumping up on the banister of the staircase as several furry Big Feet ambled inside followed by a plethora of dwarfs and shifters and vampires, covered completely in black cloth to keep them from the sun’s burning rays. “Seriously? What are you all doing?”
Mr. Nate, Jamie’s former librarian, and Helena, the baker, rushed inside. She fussed with his hat, whisking the flour off it, and then she began scraping chocolate off his face.
“We saw the message,” Mr. Nate said.
“We saw the message!” the fairies and pixies twittered, repeating his sentence in high-pitched bell tones. “We are scared! We are alarmed! We are terrified.”
“There ain’t no reason to be terrified,” Eva announced, waving her ax around.
“Miss Cornelia! Where is Miss Cornelia?” some mossy rocks were yelling.
Eva tried again. “Hello! Do NOT be TERRIFIED or I will smite you or something!”
Nobody paid attention to her. Some of the fairies started hyperventilating. Others muttered and swore, yelling out their worries as the hysteria grew greater and greater. One hag plucked out her eye, releasing it into the air where it jerked around, flying left and then right, straight up and then spiraling down.