Gram Croakies

by Sam Cheever

  She dipped her head in acceptance of the accolade, flushing with pleasure. “You’re chasing an artifact.”

  “I am. A toxic one.”

  She cocked her head. “Sebille told me. Something about youth cream that takes people all the way back to their womb-state.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Have you heard about such a thing before?”

  She frowned. “Not specifically, no. But you might want to talk to the goblins.”

  I lifted my brows in surprise. “Goblins? I didn’t know there were goblins in Enchanted.”

  “Oh, yes. They’ve lived here for centuries. Though they keep a very low profile as you can imagine.”

  I certainly could imagine. History and mythology had not been kind to the race. They’d gotten a bad rep in a lot of ways. Some of what they’d been accused of was real. They were exceedingly ugly creatures, prone to mischief and sometimes even treachery. But many of them were kind, and they could be very loyal to those they trusted.

  Trust was both the key and the problem. Goblins didn’t trust easily.

  “Why do you think I should speak to the goblins?” I asked the queen.

  “They have a cosmetics factory just outside Enchanted. Really mostly lotions and creams. I believe they have an anti-aging line. Maybe they know who could be responsible.”

  I nodded. “That’s very helpful. Thank you.”

  She inclined her head and turned away, buzzing off without another word.

  I looked at Lea. She was snuggling her little cat, Hex, who looked a lot like Wicked except that her eyes were more golden where his tended toward orange and she was more delicate in build. Like a girl. “That was helpful.”

  Lea nodded. “I’ve been hearing rumors lately that the goblins are ramping up sales. I guess they have a competitor. I’m betting that competitor might be the one with the artifact.”

  I frowned. “They’re not going to get very far if they keep killing off all their customers.”

  She grimaced. “There is that. It’s a strange mess, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” I glanced around. “Hey, do you think you could come with me to the Quilleran’s today.”

  Her pretty turquoise eyes went round. “Madeline Quilleran’s house? Are you crazy?”

  “I don’t think I am.” I grinned. “Rustin’s getting us an invite so we won’t be going under threat of death this time.”

  She mock-shuddered, settling Hex back to the ground and watching with a grin as the cat loped in the direction the fairies had gone. She caught me smiling at the kitten and gushed. “I’m so happy to have her, Naida. I don’t think I ever thanked you for giving her to me.”

  We’d rescued Wicked’s littermates from the Quilleran witches, the bad side of the family, and I’d been thrilled when my friend had asked if she could keep one of them. The others were living with my friends. LA was a human familiar cat shifter and Deg was her witch. LA had a cat sanctuary in nearby Illusion City and she’d made sure the kittens had good homes. The best part was they’d all stayed with LA and her friends so Wicked and I could see them. “Don’t be silly. I’m thrilled you kept her so she and Wicked can be best friends.” And they were. The two cats spent much of every day together, exploring either Croakies or Lea’s herbal shop together.

  She frowned. “Why are you going to Madeline’s today?”

  I hesitated a moment, having second thoughts about showing her what I’d taken from the apartment manager’s home. It was disturbing and would probably rock Lea’s world in a bad way. But Lea lifted her brows as if she’d read my thoughts and held out her hand. “Let’s see it.”

  After another moment’s hesitation, I sighed, reaching into my purse and pulling out the small storage container. I carefully opened it and showed her the contents. She narrowed her gaze, leaning closer for a moment before her eyes went wide and she jumped back. “Ew!”

  I nodded, clapping the lid back onto the container. “Yeah. It’s gruesome. But I thought maybe Madeline, since she dabbles in dark magic, might be able to tell me something about who killed that poor woman if she had this.”

  Lea grimaced. “And you want me along, why?”

  “Because I don’t trust her. I need you there to tell me if she tries blowing smoke up my skirt.”

  Lea thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “Okay. When are we leaving?”

  “As soon as we get the go-ahead from Rustin.”

  After much deliberation, I’d decided to take Berbie the Loving Bug on our trip back to the Enchanted Forest, just in case the Quilleran castle decided to be difficult again. Madeline Quilleran was a Power That Be. A member of a select group of magical decision-makers that kept an eye on the magic rabble and made sure we didn’t do anything to compromise the safety of the whole.

  As a person of some influence in the magical Universe, Madeline received extra protections, which included having her exact location hidden from anyone who might discover her identity and try to find her.

  The previous time I’d visited, Berbie’s special navigational prowess had located Madeline for me, aided by a little magical waterboarding to ensure the nav guy’s unwilling cooperation.

  I felt a little bad for encouraging the strong-arm tactics, but the nav guy did have a snotty, English-Butler-ish attitude which, admittedly, softened my guilt quite a bit.

  If I was being honest, my decision to take Berbie was also selfish, based on the fact that he wasn’t going to be with me much longer. His new owner had been located and she was coming to pick him up soon. I wanted one last adventure with the fun little car before he left.

  Fortunately for us, our second visit to the castle in the forest didn’t involve fighting with the nav. Apparently greasing the skids with the witch’s permission worked wonders to smooth out those “unwelcome visitor” vibes I’d set into motion the last time.

  Who knew?

  It was a good thing too because Madeline’s home was located in an entirely different part of the five-thousand-acre forest than it had been before. We’d have never found it without the Universe’s help.

  Berbie joyfully traversed the steep, winding forest roads, taking curves as if he were a magical car with no fear of crashing into bits at the bottom of the deep ravine bordering both sides of the narrow road.

  I, however, nurtured enough fear for both of us. And if the ashy gray complexions and whiter-than-white knuckles predominating inside the crazy little car were any indication, my friends shared my fear of death by fiery explosion at the bottom of a ravine.

  Even the ghost witch hovering next to Lea in the back seat looked wispier than usual. By contrast, the squishy green frog bus sitting on Lea’s lap seemed deliriously oblivious.

  “Goddess save us all,” Sebille murmured from the front passenger seat, her hand moving in what could only be interpreted as the sign of the cross over her flat chest.

  I narrowed my gaze on her, happy to concentrate on making fun of her instead of my imminent flaming death. “Did you just make the sign of the cross?” I asked, raising my brows.

  Berbie bounced over a particularly beefy root in the road and tooted happily as we went airborne. He landed to a lusty chorus of gasps and swears and hit the gas, shooting off even faster toward the pitfalls ahead.

  “I’m covering all my bases,” she hissed. “I’d pray to Satan himself if it would make this terror stop sooner,” Sebille murmured, her knuckles whiter than Rustin’s ghostly white button-down.

  Wary fairy, life is scary, intoned a voice inside my head.

  I grinned at Rustin and he frowned.

  With a final happy toot of his horn, Berbie plunged into a tree-shrouded stretch that seemed to have been designed by a stunt-driver with suicidal tendencies.

  The hairpin turns were no longer bounded by a plunging landscape, but the enormous redwoods covering nearly every inch of ground would certainly do their part to pound us to bits if Berbie made a single misstep.

  Lea’s hands found Mr. Slimy and apparently squeez
ed too hard in her panic. He puked out a hearty, “Ribbit!” and then hopped from her lap into mine, landing on my jeans-clad thigh and quivering there. He resembled a green poop emoji with judgy bulging eyes.

  I grimaced. “Who invited you over.”

  Red Rover, Red Rover, the frog can come over, the voice in my head chanted.

  I shook my head, throwing Rustin a glance. “You’re in rare form today, my friend.”

  Rustin’s brows peaked.

  Berbie’s horn gave a quick, alarmed chirp and he threw on the brakes as we came out of a particularly sharp turn and found ourselves mere yards from the front door of Madeline’s huge, dark house.

  We skidded to a stop, taking the last five yards in a sideways crawl that sent dirt and rocks into the air as if someone had dropped a small bomb beneath Berbie’s tires.

  As we skidded to a stop mere inches from the rock wall bordering the very short drive, the car was silent, except for a slight panting sound coming from Berbie’s engine.

  Then Berbie cut his engine and the air thickened with foreboding.

  Lea peered out her window, which was closest to the house. “What are those?”

  As before when I’d been there, the long, dark roofline of the castle-like home was obscured by the massive feathery forms of Madeline’s turkey vulture-like sentinels, their hostile red gazes locked on the little white car as if considering whether to have it with hot sauce or a nice Bearnaise.

  I hadn’t noticed them stalking our progress along the road as I had the last time, but I’d been kind of busy contemplating what it was going to feel like to die in a fiery crash.

  “Madeline’s forward watch,” I said softly, realizing I was afraid to speak in a normal tone of voice, for fear the things would break their silent guard and attack.

  Sebille’s hand fluttered upward as if considering painting the air in front of her with the sign of the cross again.

  “Did you bring your prayer rug?” I asked teasingly. “You could maybe get a few rounds of God is Most Great in before we go inside.”

  Sebille scowled over at me. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it.”

  “Should we get out of the car and ring the bell?” Lea asked, her hands clenched like two rigid knots on her lap.

  “The last time the vulture things did something right before Madeline opened the door.”

  As if on cue, the big birds shifted on their perch, their wings lifting and lowering like a feathery wave that ran the length of the roof and then started back the other way.

  “I feel like somebody should yell, ‘Play ball’” Lea murmured.

  As the last wave died at the end of the roof, the front door began to open, disappearing into the darkness inside the castle and showing us the tall, slender form waiting in the shadows.

  I clenched the handle of my door. “That’s our cue,” I told my friends.

  I climbed out and closed my door, turning back to find them all still inside, their eyes wide and their faces the color of paper.

  Rustin’s wispy form floated through the roof and headed up the stairs, his legs moving as if he was walking but his feet not touching the concrete beneath them.

  Madeline emerged from the shadowy interior, giving Rustin a fond smile. “Hello, nephew.”

  He stopped in front of her. “Aunt Maddie. How are you?”

  I followed him toward the door, my feet definitely hitting the concrete. I was pretty sure they were sticking to the stairs because it felt as if I were carrying half of their weight up with me on the bottom of my shoes.

  Behind me, car doors softly opened and closed.

  I turned to find Lea staring at the witch waiting for us by the door and Sebille eyeing the vultures, a threatening glare on her freckled face.

  I smiled to myself. Sebille might be small and silly-looking in her bright red braids, striped socks, and glossy red shoes, but she would not go down easily.

  She’d give those vulture things a run for their money. And then some.

  I stopped in front of the witch. “Hey, Madeline.”

  Her gaze slid down to my hands, which were wrapped around a fat amphibian. I blinked in surprise. I didn’t even remember grabbing Mr. Slimy before I climbed out of the car.

  “You brought the frog,” Madeline said, her features settling into a contented smile. “Good. I’ve been wanting to run some tests on him.”

  I blinked, not liking the sound of that. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d cuddled him close to my chest, shielding him with my hands. “Tests?” My head started shaking. “I can’t let you hurt him.”

  She gave me a look filled with disgust. “I wouldn’t harm him, Naida. That frog is special.”

  I narrowed my gaze, focusing it on the black-eyed, bulgy-throated green blob in my hands. Slimy focused the black orbs on me, seeming to take my measure as I took his. “This frog? Maybe you have him confused with another fat critter whose entire vocabulary consists of the word, ribbit.”

  Very funny, Keeper. I have some choice words you might like.

  I rolled my eyes at Rustin.

  Madeline’s attention slid from me to the two women climbing the steps behind me. She gave Sebille a regal nod. “Princess Sebille.”

  Sebille’s expression was neutral. She didn’t speak, merely inclining her chin like royalty.

  Madeline’s gaze slid to Lea and narrowed, observing her for a beat before giving my friend a condescending smile. “Hello, Mistress Witch.”

  “This is my friend, Lea,” I said. “She’s helping me figure out what kind of artifact we’re looking for.”

  Madeline’s slender black brows rose a titch, Her clear brow creasing. “I see.” The two words were filled with the conceit evident in every line of the Quilleran witch’s demeanor. It seemed to say, why would you need this first-level herbal practitioner when you have me?

  The shadows behind the door boiled and spit out a smaller, lighter version of Madeline onto the porch. Maude Quilleran grinned when she saw me, launching herself in my direction. “Naida Keeper! How are you? How’s Mr. Wicked?”

  Laughing, I wrapped my arms around the teen as she flung herself at me, giving her a hug. “I’m fine. Wicked’s adorable. He’s so happy to have his sister nearby to play with.”

  Maude pulled back, her pretty face alight with happiness. “I need to come for a visit. I want to see them both.”

  “Hex is getting big,” Lea told the young witch. “And fat!”

  They shared a giggle at that. When we’d rescued the litter from Jacob Quilleran’s home, they’d been filthy and undernourished.

  “I’m so glad,” Maude said, taking Lea’s hands. Then she spotted Mr. Slimy and squealed, making the frog jump in my hand and pee.

  “Caterpillar suspenders,” I grumbled as the warm liquid ran between my fingers and barely missed my sneakers.

  Maude made a “sorry” face. “I’ll take him if you want. You can wash up inside.”

  I nodded, handing him over to her and watching in awe as she lifted him, touching her nose to his and speaking softly.

  “Come,” Madeline said. “I’ll show you where you can wash your hands.”

  10

  Whaaaaaat?

  We sat around in an uncomfortable silence as Madeline opened the plastic container and looked inside. The powerful witch held her hand over the contents, emitting a silver light that filled the container and made the sides bulge and roll as if melting.

  I threw Lea a worried glance. She shook her head, telling me not to worry.

  Though I chewed the inside of my lip, I forced myself to sit back in my chair, my muscles relaxing just a titch.

  I wouldn’t totally relax until we were back in Berbie and heading back to Croakies. Then I thought of the little car’s manic exuberance on the twisty, precarious roads and I tensed right back up again.

  “Have you tried to read this?” Madeline asked, her piercing, yellow gaze finding Lea.

  “Yes. I couldn’t identify the signature, but a
n herbal illumination found ancient remnants in the magic.”

  Madeline inclined her chin, her expression flashing approval before she squelched it. “Ancient. Yes. I’m guessing Archaic Greece. Possibly one of the gods.”

  I felt my eyes go wide. “We have an ancient Greek god living in Enchanted?”

  “Not necessarily.” Madeline wiggled her fingers over the container and it dropped away, leaving only the gruesome contents floating in the air before her face.

  I grimaced, looking away.

  “But definitely someone with that ancestry.”

  “Queen Sindra mentioned goblins,” Rustin said. When his aunt glanced his way, he went on. “They have ancient ties to the gods. It’s possible they got hold of an artifact that holds ancient fountain-of-youth magic.”

  She frowned slightly, tilting her head as she returned her gaze to the embryo twirling in the air. “Possibly. But this smacks of magic malpractice. If someone is using old magic, they don’t know what they’re doing.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Her yellow gaze burned into me, filled with disapproval. “Isn’t that obvious? Unless someone’s looking for a unique way to kill people, they fell well short of their mark. If they were attempting to give youth, they went overboard by a deadly measure.”

  I certainly couldn’t argue with that.

  “Unless they weren’t giving at all.”

  All eyes slid to Sebille. She held Madeline’s piercing gaze without flinching.

  “Explain,” Madeline said, then added, “Please?” when Sebille stiffened with affront.

  “Maybe they were stealing youth, rather than trying to give it.”

  “But that makes no sense,” Lea argued. “Wouldn’t they have targeted young people then?”

  Sebille shook her head. “Consider auras.”

  Lea’s frown deepened.

  Huffing her frustration that we didn’t immediately grasp her meaning, Sebille barely kept from rolling her eyes. I admired her restraint. wondering why she never showed that restraint with me.