Safe Hex: A Hexy Witch Mystery (Womby's School for Wayward Witches Book 16)

by Sarina Dorie

  Elric gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head.

  “What?” she demanded, demonstrating she didn’t have a subtle bone in her body. “Why are you trying to shush me?”

  I tried to glean what was going on. “My adoptive fairy godmother, I mean. I didn’t mean Alouette Loraline. I forget she was even my biological mother sometimes.”

  From Elric’s expression, I was afraid he feared I meant something else.

  Vega’s eyes narrowed. “Do you mean to say—”

  Elric placed a hand on Vega’s elbow and leaned close to her ear, whispering.

  Thatch cleared his throat. “You should write to her. I’ll take her the letter. But it’s quite impossible for her to visit at this time.”

  “Because we’re in the Faerie Realm? She won’t come here because of that?” I asked.

  Thatch dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Indeed.”

  “She knows I’m safe and awake, right?”

  Vega frowned.

  “She knows you’re safe.” Thatch offered a tight smile.

  The silence stretched on. I knew he was lying about something, but I didn’t know what.

  “Did Vega tell you about her plans for making her own little school yet?” Elric asked. “What did you call it? Vega Bloodmire’s Academy for the Wicked?”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t want to know about that,” Vega said stiffly.

  I couldn’t tell whether she was snubbing me or she was vexed with Elric for keeping something from me. Knowing Vega, she would have no problem telling me later.

  “I saw Ms. Lawrence making some beautiful art today,” Elric said.

  I noticed he hadn’t called me Mrs. Thatch. He hadn’t emphasized the words as he might have with an intentional jab, but I never could tell with him.

  “I do love it when an artist expresses herself,” Elric said.

  Abruptly, Thatch stood. “I’m going to be away tomorrow. I have business at the school.” He inclined his head to me. “I beg your permission to take my leave. I have materials to prepare.”

  Elric continued smiling, though it didn’t touch his eyes. “I will not grant you permission to retire from our company so early. You will sit and wait at least until dessert is served.”

  Thatch sat, glaring at Elric. A battle of wills was not how I wanted to spend the rest of the evening. After dessert had been served, a chocolate mousse with fresh blackberries, Thatch asked to be excused again, which Elric denied.

  “Etiquette dictates you must have a drink with me while the ladies retire to the parlor,” Elric said. “As gentlemen, we have business to discuss.”

  Vega linked her arm through mine as she ushered me into the parlor. Since there was a sinister gleam in her eye and a spring in her step, I didn’t look forward to the earful I was about to hear from her about some new way I’d annoyed her.

  She surprised me by asking, “Why doesn’t Elric want you to know about your mother?”

  “My mom? What do you mean?” I sat on a brocade settee.

  “She spends her time gardening for gargoyles.” Vega’s face turned red.

  “What?”

  “You mom’s kitchen magic fun time isn’t full of—fuck.” Vega started again, but her words came out just as incomprehensible. “That fucking son of a Fae! I can’t believe he would do this to me. My own husband!”

  Realization dawned on me. “He cast a tongue-twister jinx on you?”

  “Fae don’t jinx or cast spells. They curse and enchant. It’s a different kind of magic.” She seated herself in a chair next to me.

  “So there’s something Elric doesn’t want you to tell me?”

  She crossed her arms. “Or Thatch.”

  Elric was more likely to hint at something Thatch didn’t want me to know than help him. I wondered if this new mystery was related to the other things Thatch didn’t want me to know. “Can you nod your head or shake your head if I ask a question?”

  “Yes.” Vega leaned back in her chair, lounging like a cat. “Tell me what you suspect. I’ll see if I can respond.”

  “Thatch and Elric are working together to keep something secret,” I said.

  “Probably. I don’t know.”

  “Elric whispered something to you tonight at the table. He told you why he doesn’t want me to know about something.”

  “No.”

  “He told you not to talk about my mom?”

  “Snickerdoodles,” she said.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “So he told you not to tell me something, but he didn’t say why.”

  She nodded.

  “He doesn’t want my mom to know I’m here.”

  “No.”

  “He doesn’t want me to know something about her?”

  She nodded.

  “Is she okay? Is she hurt? Did someone break through the wards of her house? The Raven Queen?” That’s where my brain instantly jumped to. It was hard not to when the Raven Queen could hunt her down and snatch her at any moment to get to me.

  “That’s too many questions at once,” Vega said. “But snickerdoodles.”

  “Why wouldn’t they tell me? Was it my fault? Did I do something that made it so the Raven Queen could find her?”

  “Snickerdoodles.”

  I started over, one question at a time, making sure I was asking yes or no questions.

  “Does the Raven Queen have my mom?”

  Vega’s eyes were sad, and she nodded.

  “Is she dead?”

  She shook her head, then stopped. “Actually, I don’t know. I only know that when you left the cuckoo nest you climbed beanstalks up—Snickerdoodles!”

  “When I left the Raven Court she was still alive?”

  “More or less.”

  Now I was truly worried. Something had happened to my mom. I suspected there was only one person left who could tell me. I had no magic, no guile, and I had never been very good with bargains. Even so, I had to figure out how to trick a trickster.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Tricky Business

  Felix Thatch didn’t enter the parlor with Elric, and he wasn’t in our room when I retired. I couldn’t stop worrying about my mom. A different maid came in than Vega’s usual lady’s maid to help me undress, not that I needed help with the gown. I had already undressed myself.

  The girl fidgeted with her apron, looking lost. Her sandy hair fell into her face.

  “You aren’t the usual maid,” I said.

  “No, miss. I usually work in the kitchen. Tilly is the lady’s maid, but it’s her day off so I’m filling in for her.” The girl looked too young to be working instead of going to school. “Shall I call someone to carry up a tub and water for you to take a bath?”

  I hesitated, not wanting to trouble the servants to carry water up the stairs for me. “Is there a shower somewhere in the house?”

  The girl stared at the floor. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Okay. A bath would be great.” I felt grimy from not showering each morning, and I didn’t want to have to visit a hot spring outside every time I wanted to bathe.

  “I’ll fetch someone straightaway, Miss Lawrence.” She curtsied and headed toward the door.

  “It’s Ms. Lawrence.” That was what I preferred to be called.

  As she rushed off, I wondered how she even knew my maiden name. If I’d been asleep for over a year, starting shortly after I’d been married, it seemed as if everyone here should know me as Mrs. Thatch since that was what Elric called me.

  The maid returned a few minutes later with a young man levitating a wooden tub into the room. Carrying the water with magic took considerable effort. The man’s face was pink and his breathing labored. He motioned for the tub to ease to the floor. Water sloshed out of the tub as the wood made contact with the floor, but before any spray could spill, the droplets stopped in midair. The maid motioned with her hands and the water was plopped back into
the wooden frame.

  The young man wasn’t much older than the girl, but he resembled her with his sandy hair and round nose. Their faces were human in aspect. He looked familiar, though I didn’t know either of them. He didn’t meet my eyes.

  “Are you both students from Womby’s?” I asked.

  “I’m not supposed to speak to you, ma’am. It wouldn’t be proper.” He bowed and left.

  I turned to the maid. “Are you allowed to talk to me?”

  She didn’t meet my eye. “Yes, ma’am, but I’ve been given strict instructions on what I can and can’t talk to you about.”

  Why didn’t that surprise me?

  I tested the water with my foot. It was the perfect temperature. “Did you go to school at Womby’s?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Me and my brother both do, but we never had you.”

  I didn’t know how I felt about undressing in front of a student. It seemed unprofessional. “I can finish taking the bath on my own. Why don’t you come back in half an hour?”

  She ducked her chin down. “I can’t leave you alone. I have to stay with you to make sure you don’t have an episode and drown.”

  I doubted I was going to drown in two feet of water. I lifted the hem of my nightgown and stepped inside. Heat prickled my skin.

  “Let’s make this less awkward for both of us. You turn around as I get in, and you can sit in the room and read a book or something.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “Yes, Miss Lawrence. I expect that to be all right.”

  “I’m Ms. Lawrence. Or Mrs. Thatch.” I considered letting her call me by my first name to ease her anxiety. “Or Clarissa. You aren’t at school.”

  “Yes, miss.” She turned to face the wall.

  I wondered how much of her nervousness was related to waiting on a teacher from her school. I threw off my nightgown as she pulled over a chair. I told her where the books were, but she didn’t get any. She sat facing away from me. I asked for the girl’s name and found out she was Petra, and her brother was Troy.

  “Why are you here working in a Fae’s house?” I asked.

  “We had to go somewhere during the summer holiday. Our parents were snatched, and there’s nowhere else for us to go. Ms. Bloodmire told me Master Elric would take us in for the summer.”

  Warmth spread through my chest, thinking about Vega and what a kind person she was—even if she didn’t want the world to see it.

  Petra’s voice came out in a rush. “Ms. Bloodmire said Master Elric would pay us, but he told us he has too many servants already, and all he could do is give us an allowance. Not that I’m complaining. We don’t have to go to the mines to work, and it’s safe here. Half the staff in the house are Witchkin, and those who are pure-blooded Fae aren’t the sort to drain Witchkin, nor do I think the prince would allow it.”

  I wondered about the state of Elric’s finances. He was conserving magic, he had a much smaller estate than what Vega had expected, and the luxuries I had seen at his father’s castle, like a built-in spa in his room, were nonexistent. I wondered if he had any income at all or a way to support this “cottage.” If I had learned anything from watching episodes of Downton Abbey, my takeaway was that manors were expensive.

  Petra went on, her words filling the silence. “I am grateful, but . . . Ms. Bloodmire is very strict. She makes us study spells and languages for two hours each day, even though it’s summer vacation.”

  I laughed, hearing Petra’s complaint. That seemed like the kind of “problem” one would expect from a fifteen-year-old. Vega wasn’t doing her one favor, but two, even if the girl didn’t realize it.

  A knock came at the door. The maid rushed over to see who it was.

  Thatch’s British monotone greeted my ears. “I wish to inquire whether my wife wants my company for the evening or I should retire to my own room.”

  “Um . . . Sir, I don’t know,” Petra said quietly. “She’s indisposed.”

  I turned my head to find her wringing her hands and looking flustered.

  “It’s fine. He can come in,” I said. “Why don’t you go downstairs? You don’t have to babysit me if Mr. Thatch is here.”

  “Yes, Miss Lawrence.” She rushed off, not needing to be told twice.

  “It’s Ms. L—never mind.” She was already gone.

  Thatch strolled over. “I see you are finally taking full advantage of our hosts’ amenities.”

  “Are you saying I should have taken a bath sooner because I smelled?”

  He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “Smelled? I am certain you only smelled like roses.”

  I laughed.

  He sat on the bed. “Are you still vexed with me? Or will you allow me to spend the night with you?”

  “Of course I want you to spend the night with me. Why do you even have your own room? Is that Elric’s doing?”

  “No. Sometimes I need privacy.”

  “Like tomorrow? Are you really going to school tomorrow?”

  “Indeed.”

  “Your absence isn’t related to one of the secrets you’re trying to keep from me?”

  He frowned and sighed. “No.”

  “What don’t you want to tell me about my mom?”

  “Nothing.”

  This was the least relaxing bath I’d ever had. “Has something happened to her?”

  Thatch strode back over to the tub and sat on the floor beside me. His eyes were melancholy. “Have I ever kept a secret from you that wasn’t in your best interest? Have I ever withheld knowledge to hurt you?”

  I crossed my arms and drew my knees more closely to my chest, not wanting to be naked and vulnerable at this moment. “If you had told me about Derrick, I wouldn’t have accidentally broken his curse. If you had told me the truth about my biological mother and what she had been researching, I wouldn’t have had to look it up behind your back with Vega and get hammered into a coffin so she could test me.”

  His lips pressed into a line. “If you had listened to me and trusted I had your best intentions at heart, none of that would have happened either.”

  “You’re a hypocrite. You used to make snide remarks about all the times my mom kept me from knowing the truth about magic because she was trying to protect me, and now you’re trying to do the same thing.”

  His voice hardened to steel. “This is different.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “She meant to keep you from understanding there was magic in the world. Obviously, this was not the best tactic when you were so adamant about proving magic to be real. She failed to see that keeping you from understanding the rules of the world put you in greater danger, as you had no understanding of the consequences if you used magic in the Morty Realm. The only reason she was able to hide you as well as she did from Fae and malicious Witchkin was because you increased her ability to create protective wards. Furthermore, I hid traces of your magic when you inadvertently used it.”

  I shifted against the wood of the tub, noticing how slimy it felt. “I want you to stop trying to be chivalrous. I don’t need you to protect me. You need to tell me exactly what happened, where my mom is, and how I was drained. You are going to explain the exact nature of your bargain with Elric.”

  “I can’t reveal anything about my agreement with Elric. He has forbidden me from sharing certain details.” The harshness in his voice left as he went on. “As for the rest, it would be too traumatic. I don’t want you to have to relive that torment.”

  “Don’t you get it? It’s more torment for me to not know.”

  “Very well. If you think this will make you feel better.” He removed his jacket and tossed it onto a chair before circling an arm around my shoulders, getting the sleeve of his white shirt wet in the bathwater. He stared into my eyes, the gray storm clouds of his own mournful. “The Raven Queen lured you to her by using your mum as bait. Once there, she killed Abigail Lawrence to hurt you.” He looked away.

  My hea
rt broke at those words. Tears filled my eyes. His words struck a chord of truth in me, confirming my fears. And yet . . . something about this didn’t ring true. As I took in his lowered gaze, I knew he wasn’t being honest, but I couldn’t figure out why.

  “You’re lying. I can tell. I want the truth.”

  He sighed. “If I tell you the truth, I want you to promise me you won’t do anything foolish like last time. You don’t have the power or skill to face the Raven Queen.”

  “Tell me what happened.” I sat up.

  Thatch wore his dour expression like a mask. “Abigail Lawrence isn’t human anymore. I don’t believe she has any awareness of herself anymore. She might as well be dead.”

  This felt true. I stared at him, perplexed. “What is she?”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself.”

  “Why would I blame myself? Did I do something to her?” I felt rough bark under my fingers. A bloody acorn flashed before my eyes. My stomach recoiled as the anguish in those memories threatened to overwhelm me.

  “It was Odette.” He shifted, drawing me as close as the tub would allow. “My sister tried to do a good deed, if one would call it that. She gave your mum a seed to transform her so that she could escape torture. As I understand it, you tried to counteract the transformation with electricity. Instead of reversing the process, your magic served as a catalyst and transformed Abigail Lawrence into a tree. She cannot be returned to her natural state. In essence, she is dead.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Reunited

  I was inconsolable for hours. I had essentially caused my mom’s death. It was too horrible to be true, but flashes of memory confirmed what he said.

  I now wished I had listened to him. I should have accepted blissful ignorance. Thatch was always practical. He hadn’t been wrong in his verdict that it would be ‘better’ for me not to know the truth.

  A chasm of despair dwelled inside me, haunting me like a phantom pain. I had known there was something missing, something deeper than recovering affinity or the temporary paralysis that I had been in when I’d woken A sinkhole had slowly opened inside me, deepening, almost tangible, but not quite. I was certain this emptiness was the feeling of loss. He had told me the truth at last, but the consuming despair wouldn’t stop haunting me.