by Sam Cheever
Even with the wand, it was going to take me a while to clean it up. As my gaze slipped over the glass-covered carpet near the bookshelves, I thought of Mr. Slimy.
“Oh!” I hurried over to the spot where he’d been when the staff had fired, dropping to my knees before thinking. Pain sliced through my knees in multiple spots. “Ouch! Frog spectacles!” I went back to my toes and carefully looked underneath the bottom shelf. “Mr. Slimy?”
Thump.
The sound came from farther down the shelf. I moved around to the aisle between the tall shelves, finding it relatively clear of debris. I hit the ground again, my gaze scouring the dusty shadows beneath the shelf. “Mr. Slimy, are you under here?”
Thump. Thump. Thumpity-thump.
That would be a resounding, yes. I finally found his glassy-eyed stare peering at me from the spot where the two shelves were pressed together. He was huddling under the squared-off archway made by the legs as if hunkering down for an earthquake.
“Come here, you little green booger.”
I reached for the squishy green interloper and he hopped, his head smacking into the underside of the shelf.
Thump.
“Stop that, you’re going to give yourself brain damage.” I thought about that for a minute and then grinned. “Oh yeah, that would assume you had a brain.”
Thumpthumpthumpity-thump.
I lunged toward the concussion-seeking amphibian, falling on my face as he somehow dodged away from my grip. “Argh!!!”
Thump. Thump. Thump! I narrowed my gaze. The frog wasn’t moving but the thumping was still happening.
Thumpthumpthump!
I sat up and stared at the exterior door. Someone was pounding on it.
Caterpillar cankles! I’d forgotten to put up the Closed sign.
I hurried over and peered through the broken picture window, seeing a woman who looked to be in her early sixties standing outside. The woman had graying blonde hair, cut into a cute pixie style, and beautiful green eyes. She seemed more upset than being thwarted from buying a cat cozy mystery should inspire.
I unlocked the door, opening it a crack and smiling out at my nervous customer. “I’m sorry, we’re closed.”
Her frown wrinkles deepened. “I really need to speak with you, Naida. It’s important.”
I finally recognized the woman. Her name was Franny Clauss. And then my eyes went wide. Franny was one of Mrs. Foxladle’s book club friends. I’d only met her once or twice but seeing her at my door, after what had happened at book club, finally jogged my memory.
I yanked the door open. “Franny, are you okay?” Even if she was, she was about to not be so okay when I told her four, apparently not five as we’d suspected, of her friends were dead.
She shook her head. “Not even close. Please, can I come inside?” She glanced worriedly over her shoulder like she was afraid she was being followed. “Please?” she asked again when I hesitated.
I opened the door wider. “Okay. But please be careful. We’ve had an…accident.”
Franny gave the train wreck of my store a cursory once-over and frowned. “You weren’t kidding about the accident.” She settled an oversized leather bag to the floor, looking around with a shocked expression.
I nodded, sighing as I relocked the door and turned off my Open sign. I flipped the cardboard sign hanging from the door to Closed and turned to her. “We thought you were dead.”
The words flew from my lips before I could stop them. As soon as they hit the space between us, I realized how they’d sounded. “I’m sorry…”
Franny shook her head. “Don’t be. That’s why I’m here.” Tears filled her gaze and slid down her pasty white cheeks. “I saw you and that Detective at Celia’s today. I know you’re a keeper. I needed to talk to you about what happened.”
I blinked in surprise. “You know I’m a Keeper of the Artifacts?” I hated to be repetitive, but I needed to verify what she was telling me. There could be no misunderstandings. Once we engaged in the conversation I knew we were about to have, there was no turning back.
Franny’s gaze slid around the space. “Does this mess have anything to do with the staff I saw fly out of here a few minutes ago?” She pointed to the front window with its perfect round hole.
“Yes. I’m afraid Maleficent’s staff got the better of my assistant.”
Franny frowned. “That’s not good.”
As understatements went, that one was the equivalent of painting an elephant’s toenails with a fairy’s toothbrush. “No, it certainly isn’t.”
“I only wish it was the most dangerous artifact out there. But I’m afraid it’s not. At least you see this one coming,” she said, wringing her hands together.
My pulse picked up at her words. “Tell me what happened to your friends,” I urged gently.
“I wish I knew!” Her response hadn’t been what I was expecting. “I came late and called out to them as I hurried through the apartment, heading to the restroom.” She flushed. “I’d had a really large coffee on my way over. It hit me hard.”
“What happened then?”
“I waved at them as I hurried past and they laughed…”
“So they were all, okay?” I asked.
“Yes. Smiling, talking about this week’s book, and drinking tea.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“Celia called out that she had a surprise for us and told me to hurry.”
“I didn’t even respond.” Fresh tears slipped down her face. “I had to pee so badly. By the time I came back out, they were gone.”
Poor woman, she was feeling guilty for answering a normal call of nature. At least she hadn’t had to sing the Make Me a Magic Muffin Mister song to flush, or she might have taken even longer to get back to her friends. “You couldn’t have known,” I told her, reaching out to clasp her icy hand.
“I was only in there a couple of minutes. I’ll admit I could have gone faster. I was…” Her cheeks pinkened. “Celia has a vast number of toiletries. She’s always been big on natural cosmetics and stuff. Really expensive makeup. She gets a lot of samples to try. I can’t afford that type of thing, so I check hers out whenever I’m there.”
“Did you use any of it?”
The pink in her cheeks deepened. “I did. I’m so sorry.”
“What did you use?”
“Just some hand lotion. It’s got pig placenta in it, and it’s supposed to be a really good anti-aging cream. It sounds terrible, but it smells like roses. It’s really very nice.”
“You suffered no effects from the cream?”
“Well, no. Except my hands are really soft.” She frowned. “You think some kind of cosmetic did this?”
“Possibly. Do you think your friends did the same as you? Trying Celia’s samples?”
She nodded enthusiastically, seeming to find some relief from the guilt in the knowledge that she wasn’t alone in her curiosity. “Celia didn’t mind. She encouraged us to try the stuff. I think she got a kickback if she helped sell some of it.”
I nodded, thinking about what Franny had told me. If everyone at the table tried the same thing, it was possible something in Celia’s collection of cosmetics killed them all. Although the timing would have to be perfect, and that seemed unlikely. Still, I’d tell Grym what I’d learned. He’d been planning on having everything on the table tested for poison, he might want to test the stuff in the bathroom too.
Franny was staring at her hands, her shoulders drooping and tears flowing freely down her cheeks. I couldn’t imagine how she felt. In addition to raw grief, she was probably dealing with a combination of survivor’s guilt and just plain relief she’d somehow escaped her friends’ fate.
“Do you know where Celia got her samples?” I asked, my question tugging her from her thoughts.
Franny shook her head. “I don’t, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t afford to buy that type of thing myself, so I didn’t pay much attention to her when she talked about them.”
“The
landlady said Celia had a new boyfriend. Had you met him?”
Franny looked surprised. “She did? No. I had no idea. What was he like? Was he younger?” Franny frowned. “Celia was always trying to attract younger men. I think it’s one of the reasons she spent so much on anti-aging cosmetics.”
Parakeet pants! I’d really been hoping Franny would be able to dish the dirt on the new heartthrob. Something told me he was up to his boy toy eyebrows in the women’s deaths.
But one thing was still bothering me. “How did you know they…um…?”
“How’d I know they were dead?”
Franny’s red-rimmed eyes overflowed with a fresh batch of tears. “I was shocked to see them all gone. I walked over to the table and looked at it, seeing the untasted tea and food. The chairs hadn’t even been pulled away from the table like they would be if they’d gotten up. I called out to them, but nobody answered. Then I heard a cry and glanced under the table.”
She held a hand in front of her face. It shook violently as all the color ran from her face at the memory. “It was horrible.”
I could only imagine. She must have seen them in a condition that was prior to the final embryo state. It would be something that would stick with her for the rest of her life.
I reached out and pulled her into a hug as she broke down completely, holding her until the sobbing stopped and the violent trembling lessened.
Then I told her Mrs. Foxladle was alive. It was the only good news in the whole mess.
Thank heavens, the two women could console each other in their mutual grief.
5
Moonlight Magic
Rustin oozed into view as I closed the door behind Franny Clauss. He hovered above the floor, his handsome face pinched and his gaze behind the wire-rimmed glasses all judgy.
I glared at him. “It’s not my fault.”
He jerked his head toward the thumping underneath the bookshelves. “Is it your fault my frog bus is currently giving himself a concussion?”
“No.” I sighed. “I tried to get him out of there, but some of you must be infusing his little amphibian brain. He was being difficult.”
Rustin sighed, extending a hand toward the shadowed space.
A beat later, the frog slid out from under the shelf and levitated into its glass house.
“Ribbit!” Slimy said in apparent thanks.
I frowned at the ghost witch. “I see your powers are getting stronger.”
He shrugged.
“Any chance you’re the one who put him on the floor in the first place?”
Rustin’s arms were crossed over his chest again, his gaze locked on me along the length of his perfect nose. “Why on earth would I do that?”
He wouldn’t. Rustin had more at stake in keeping Mr. Slimy whole and healthy than anybody. Slimy might be bored inside his glass prison, but he was safe.
I watched the squishy green critter hop into the little pond I’d made him and smiled. Then I narrowed my gaze. Did his head look flatter than it had before?
Yikes!
My phone rang, and I hit Answer without looking. “Croakies Book Store.”
There was a long pause, and then a screechy voice with a snotty undertone filled the silence. “Naida Keeper, are you responsible for the magical staff blasting its way through Enchanted at this moment?”
I frowned. “Who is this?” There was no way I was owning up to that disaster unless I was forced to.
“This is your conscience speaking.”
My frown deepened. I was pretty sure I recognized the screech and the snot. “Is that you, Rasputin?”
“Maybe,” he responded, a caw rounding off the single word.
“Why are you calling me?” I asked the bossy raven familiar of a fourth-generation witch named Quilleran.
“Maddie told me to call you in her professional capacity as PTB. You need to corral that artifact before it hurts someone.”
The Powers That Be managed the magical world for the Universe, much as I managed the magical artifacts.
Well…since one of my artifacts was currently running rogue around Enchanted…I kind of hoped she managed her charges better than I did.
“A rogue staff? How did that happen?” I asked in as innocent a voice as I could muster. “Why am I just now hearing about this?”
“Nice try, Keeper. Maddie says to clean up your mess, or she’ll have to come down there and do it herself.”
I disconnected on a sigh. I’d had visions of sugar plums in the form of my nice soft pillow dancing in my head. Instead, I had to hit the streets and find a bratty staff with authority issues.
“Would you like some help?” Rustin asked.
I glanced at him in surprise. His face was still fixed in an arrogant expression, but his eyes looked hopeful. He was bored. I didn’t blame him, Rustin was a smart and powerful witch. It had to be spectacularly boring to ride around inside a thought-challenged amphibian all day. Fortunately for everyone involved, along with helping him strengthen his powers in his new state of being, his Aunt Madeline had also figured out a way to extend the sphere of influence between Rustin and the frog, so we didn’t need to carry Slimy around with us everywhere we went. As long as Rustin stayed within the Enchanted city limits he could be his own…erm…man.
“Sure. I can use all the help I can get,” I told the ghost witch.
Rustin’s expression didn’t change, but light filled his gaze. “Great. I’ll just pop into the artifact room for the Book of Pages.”
Fortunately Rustin, who’d given me the book in the first place, could still work the book even from his wispy state, using the power of his mind to select a magical option from the book and set it into motion with his energy alone.
Mostly, so far, he’d just used that energy to shrink the book into a size I could put in my pocket, but that was helpful enough to make my life easier.
I’d grown kind of dependent on that book.
You aren’t really going to leave me in here, are you? someone asked, inside my head.
I twitched in surprise, looking around for the voice I’d heard.
Slimy sat in his tiny pond, his eyes staring blankly ahead and his throat working over a series of mindless, ribbits.
Motion near the cabinet had me glancing that way. My cat, Mr. Wicked, jumped up onto the counter and folded his tail around his sleek form.
I blinked as I realized how big he’d gotten over the last weeks. He no longer looked like a kitten. That made me kind of sad.
“Are you talking to me, little man?” I asked, walking over and scooping him into my arms to give him a kiss between the ears. “Where have you been all day?”
His response was to purr loudly, rubbing his soft head under my chin.
Rustin reappeared in a flash of energized mist. “Ready?” he asked.
I nodded. “You want to come with?” I asked my cat, staring at him for a long moment.
“Are you expecting him to answer?” Rustin asked, his lips curved into a derisive grin.
Actually, I had been. “No. Of course not. Cats don’t talk.”
Wicked gave my chin a tiny nip, and I lowered him to the ground. “Okay. Let’s go,” I said.
My gaze slid over the mess in the store as we made our way to the door. I grumbled. It looked like Sebille was going to get a chance to play with Cinderella’s wand after all.
I reached for the door as Wicked scampered through behind Rustin.
Hesitating before closing the door, I fixed Slimy with a speculative look. “I’ll bring some bugs back Mr. Slimy. I promise.”
Joy of joys, a sarcastic voice said as I closed the door.
I glowered at Rustin, the smug grin on his face telling me he was messing with me again. “I’m not sure I’m going to enjoy having you get some of your magic back,” I told him.
His only response was to bark out a laugh, clearly not worried about what I enjoyed or didn’t.
“How are we going to find this thing?” Rustin asked as
I pulled away from the curb in my little car.
I glanced his way. “I’m going to go to Enchanted Park and send out my sensing magic.”
He frowned. “Why there?”
“The gazebo represents the exact center of the city.”
“I did not know that.”
I grinned across the short space between us. “Stick with me and you’ll learn all kinds of stuff.”
Rustin’s chuckle was filled with warmth, his handsome face was relaxed, even happy. As I drove down the mostly deserted streets of the city, the street lights flashed patterns over the glass of his wire-rimmed spectacles.
I was happy to see him looking so relaxed. He’d had a rough few months since his horrible family put the whammy on him, giving him a bad case of frog butt.
“How are Madeline and Maude doing on the research?”
He shrugged, his expression tightening slightly. I immediately felt guilty for stealing a bit of his happiness from him and wished I could take my question back.
“They haven’t figured out how to separate me completely from the frog yet, obviously. But they’re extracting me in bits and pieces.”
I grimaced, making the turn into the park. “Ew. I’m not going to wake up one morning to find your feet walking around Croakies without your body, am I?”
He laughed again, the new tension leeching from his form. “I’m speaking magically. The physical piece, once they finish the prep work, should be reasonably simple to accomplish.”
I doubted any of what his aunt and cousin were attempting would be simple. But I didn’t say what I was thinking. He probably didn’t believe it would be that easy either.
I was happy to leave him with his delusions for the time being. I felt fairly certain Madeline and Maude Quilleran would eventually reverse the damage Rustin’s Uncle had wrought.
Jacob Quilleran had been a formidable witch, but his sister was at least as formidable and probably a bit more so.
We wound our way through the heavily-treed park, navigating the winding but smoothly paved road by the light of a nearly full moon and my headlights. There were no streetlights in the belly of Enchanted Park, only a sky filled with silvery stars and the bloated silver-gold moon hanging overhead.