1 Scared Witchless

by Amy Boyles

  Sera walked into the room licking pink icing from her fingers. "It's all set. Grandma! Are you ready?"

  Grandma floated in, a gauzy white chiffon scarf wafting behind her. "Of course I'm ready. I used to hunt bad witches for a living, remember?"

  This was news. "You did?" I asked.

  "Of course. How else do you think I know about the flying monkeys?"

  Reid scrubbed a hand over her forehead. "Dear Lord, not again."

  Grandma raised a threatening finger. "One day, girls. One day you will all see and understand."

  "Let's hope that day never comes," I whispered.

  "What was that?" she asked.

  Ding-dong. Saved by the doorbell. "I'll get it," I said, praying it was Em so we could get this whole thing over with.

  I opened the door. Tim Harper thrust out a bouquet of roses. "What the heck is this?" I asked.

  He thumbed his nose. "Sorry. They're not for you."

  I glared at him, doing my best to look intimidating. "Darn right they're not for me."

  He gave me an embarrassed grin. "They're for Sera."

  "Listen, Tim, haven't you broken my sister's heart enough?"

  He brushed his junior-high bangs out of his eyes. "Don't you think that's for her to decide?"

  Steam poured from my ears. I fisted my hand, readying to punch his nose across the other side of the Mississippi, when Sera walked up.

  "Tim, what are you doing here?"

  "Who is it?" Milly said. "Is it Em?"

  "It's no one," I said.

  "I think I'm a little more than no one," Tim said stiffly.

  "Not really," I said. I backed up from the door.

  "Sera, I came to apologize."

  "There's nothing for you to say."

  Grandma gestured toward Tim. "For goodness' sake, either come in or go out. You're letting flies inside by keeping the door open."

  Sera took a step forward, blocking Tim's path from entering. "I think it's best if you—"

  "Oh, I didn't know this was goin' to be such a big dinner, or else I would've worn a better dress."

  Crap. Em walked into the frame, right behind Tim. Sera flashed me a desperate look. I stepped up. "Em, thanks for coming on such short notice. Tim, I'm afraid you're going to have to excuse us for dinner."

  "I won't. I have important things to discuss with Sera."

  "For the last time, shut that door," Grandma shouted.

  Southern hospitality dictated that no matter how awful the circumstance, I couldn't just kick Tim away like an unwanted dog. So there was only one choice.

  I grabbed him by the collar of his button-down shirt and pulled him in. "You want to talk to Sera, you can do it over dinner."

  She gasped, and I put my mouth to her ear. "Keep him busy in your corner of the table." I flashed a smile to the queen. "Em, welcome to our humble abode."

  ***

  I had to admit, the artichokes were delicious. I had no idea that with a little witchcraft, Grandma could make a meal soar. I knew she'd only been frozen for three years, but even before then she'd never made anything as exotic or tasty.

  "Love the artichokes," Em said.

  "Yes ma'am," Tim added. "It's wonderful. And I have to thank you again for letting me join your dinner on such short notice."

  "What notice?" I mumbled. Sera kicked my leg. For the life of me, I couldn't understand what she saw in Tim. Here was a guy who dressed like he didn't want to grow up—and he acted like it, too.

  "How's the engagement to Olivia going?" I asked.

  He tugged at his collar. "Well. Um. It's not. We broke it off."

  I narrowed my gaze at him. "We? Or she?"

  He pushed a bundle of green beans across his plate. "Delicious food. Did I say that?"

  Grandma wiped her mouth with a peach-colored cloth napkin. Weren't we high eighties fashion? "This is what I serve all my honored guests."

  Em raised a glass of wine. "Thank y'all. I'm honored to be here."

  "Speaking of honored," Milly spat. "Aren't you girls supposed to be the belles of the banquet tomorrow night?"

  I swallowed a mouthful of red wine. It burned my throat as it made its way down. I inhaled to soothe it and ended up coughing all over the table. "Yes," I croaked. "We're the guests, thanks to that newspaper article."

  "What article?" Tim asked.

  Reid dropped her fork on her plate. "The article in the Birmingham News, dummy. The one that came out right before Reagan was killed."

  "Oh," he said weakly. "That." He straightened his back and puffed out his chest. "Bet it sure made Sera look great."

  "Oh yes," Milly said. "Made her brownies famous. They're calling in from Paris, France, for orders."

  I shot her a nasty look. Milly shrugged. That old woman didn't care one lick what anyone else thought.

  "When I served this meal to the unicorn king, he complimented the wonders of cheese," Grandma said.

  Every mouth dropped. Tim leaned over to Sera. "Did she say what I think she said?"

  Sera tittered. "Oh, Grandma. Don't make up stories in front of Tim."

  She fluffed the ends of her wiry hair. "Who's making up stories? It's not like the king showed up here or anything. We had a nice dinner in a pasture."

  Sera circled her finger around her ear so that Tim could see.

  "You'll meet him someday," she added.

  "So," I boomed, “anyone have any new information to discuss? Anything of interest?" I gave Milly the eye, hoping she could steer Grandma away from talking about mystical creatures.

  Milly folded her hands and rested her elbows on the table. She picked a rather rude piece of artichoke out from her teeth and set it on the plate. "I was going through some old books of mine the other day."

  Em glanced up from her plate. "Really? What kind of books?"

  Milly wiggled her fingers. "You know the kind."

  "I should invite him to come right now. Prove the truth to all of you," Grandma said.

  "Don't you dare," I hissed.

  Milly continued. "There was a very interesting story about a woman who could appear to be anyone else."

  Em shrugged. "That ain’t all that interestin'."

  A sparkle of mischief sprang into Milly's eyes. "There are very few people who can do such a thing. You know, even in the storybooks."

  Tim watched the conversation with interest. Sera murmured something in his ear, but he remained focused on Milly and Em. Reid bull’s-eyed in on them as well, nibbling a roll as she leaned her ear ever closer to their tête-à-tête.

  "I'll show you," Grandma said from the end of the table. I paid her no attention. This was the moment we'd been waiting for.

  Milly buttered some bread and took a bite. She spoke as crumbs toppled from her mouth. "I once heard a story that a certain young girl made herself look like an elder councilwoman so she could sneak into the library."

  Em giggled. "I heard somethin' like that, too."

  Tim craned his neck toward them. "I didn't. I haven't read that story."

  "Tim, let me tell you something," Sera said, tugging his ear toward her.

  "What is it?" he asked, a sloppy grin on his face. She whispered something to him, keeping him busy so that Milly could hook Em into our plan.

  Milly placed her knife on her plate with a clink. "I wonder if that person could do it again."

  Em tossed a bundle of saffron curls over one shoulder. "Of course. It's not like it's hard."

  Milly poked at her green beans. "It's also not as if it's easy. Most of the ones I know can't do it at all."

  Grandma's voice wafted in. "He would love to come. He'd show all of you."

  Em sipped her wine. "They ain't tried. Not that this is the time or place for such a thing. Another time and maybe another place."

  I kicked Sera. Her eyes widened as she realized what needed to be done. She yanked Tim's napkin from his lap. "Listen, I think you need to go."

  "What?" he asked, glancing around the room. "Why? I want to hear
how the story ends."

  Sera wrapped a hand around his arm and pulled Tim to his feet. "It ends with you leaving."

  "Why now? Can't it wait a few minutes?"

  "I'm afraid not."

  Tim pried her hand from his arm. "But I haven't even had dessert."

  Milly sloshed the red wine around her glass. "Of course, only someone who can't do it would suggest this isn't the right time."

  Em's eyes tightened into angry little slits. I hid a smile. The Queen Witch owned pride in gallon-sized buckets. How far would she go to keep it?

  "I didn't say it because I'm a coward. I said it because of you know who."

  Grandma yelled, "Who? The unicorn king?"

  "No, Grandma," I whispered. "No one's talking about him." I gazed at Sera and jerked my head toward the door. Tim needed to get the heck out of here. His presence could ruin everything.

  Sera yanked him across the room. "Tim, come on."

  "But we still haven't talked."

  "There isn't anything to say."

  You go, girl! That's what I wanted to hear—Sera giving Tim his permanent walking papers. And with that, she ushered him out of the house and, hopefully, out of our lives forever.

  Milly cracked her knuckles together. "I bet you couldn't make me look like Councilwoman Gladiolas."

  Em shuffled her seat a few inches from the table. "Why should I? I'm certain you're powerful enough to create that."

  Milly tilted her head back and forth. "I'm not. I don't know many witches who are. It's one thing to make objects appear, move them around, that sort of thing, it's another entirely to shift molecules and atoms to rearrange the way someone's face and body look. You know that; you studied witch theory at all the good schools."

  Em's eyes slid from one side of the table to another. "It isn't exactly good dinner etiquette to transform a guest to look like someone else."

  "It might not be etiquette, but it would certainly be cool," Reid said. "I don't have any power, so I'll never be able to do anything neat like that. I'd love to see."

  Em threaded her fingers through her loose curls, breaking them apart at the ends. "Would y'all really like to see that?"

  "Sure," I said. "I don't know who this councilwoman is. Whoever she is, the woman's got to be prettier than Milly."

  That won me a nasty glare from my paternal grandmother. Em laughed. Grandma Hazel went on about the unicorn king. "And I could have him here right now," she said to no one.

  "Very well," Em said. She cleared her throat and looked at me and Sera. "The way to do a glamour, whether you're performin' it on yourself or someone else, is to have an image of the person you want the intended to become fresh in your mind. You must concentrate solely on that. Not a lot of people can do this well. It takes practice and focus." She rose and gestured for Milly to do the same. "Ready?"

  Milly snorted. "I'm ready."

  "I could have the king here any second," Grandma said.

  Sick and tired of hearing my grandmother spout off, I said (without thinking, mind you), "No one believes in that stupid unicorn king!"

  Grandma gasped at me. Em raised her hand. Milly stood stock-still. Like a conductor, Queen Witch motioned with her hands. My fingers flew to my mouth, and I bit my nails with a zeal I hadn't found before.

  The door opened. "I forgot my keys." Tim!

  Milly's body shimmered like heat wafting over asphalt in the summer. In a blink, she became a young woman with long blonde hair. Even her clothes had transformed. She no longer wore brown old-lady clothes that reminded me of a bag of potatoes. Now a skintight black evening gown hugged her curves. Which no longer sagged, I noticed.

  "What the…?" I heard Tim say.

  A light flashed. I shielded my eyes and heard a sound that made my heart stop. A whinny. A loud, over-the-top neigh erupted from the center of my living room.

  Tim screamed. I always knew he was a pansy.

  I opened my eyes. An ivory unicorn stood in my house, pawing the floor.

  "It wasn't there, and then it was!" Tim said.

  Sera ran interference. "Tim, calm down."

  He pointed at it. "It appeared. That thing came out of nowhere! And she," he directed toward Milly, "was Milly Jones only two seconds ago."

  The unicorn swiveled its head toward Tim. "Excuse me, but I am not a thing. I am Titus, King of the Unicorns."

  Sera screamed.

  Reid screamed.

  Tim screamed.

  Grandma crossed her arms over her chest. "See? I told y'all I'd make him appear."

  Em waved her hands over Milly, and in a snap she returned to her normal self.

  Tim screamed again.

  "Sera, deal with that," I said.

  "No need," Em said. "I can help." She walked over to Tim. I didn't know what she was going to do, but it couldn't be any worse than the situation we were already in.

  I rushed over to Milly and pulled a miniature flashlight from my pocket. With magic, Milly had tweaked it to be able to see threads. With Em's back turned, this was my one chance to find the thread. I turned it on and waved it over the back of her head, keeping an eye on Em to make sure she wasn't looking in my direction.

  "The ear," Milly whispered. "Look in there."

  Though I knew lightning wouldn't strike twice in the same place, I shined the light in those tiny canals anyway, and voila! With a pair of tweezers I pulled out a small, wiggly blue thread that looked exactly like the one from the hospital. I pulled the button from my pocket and pressed it.

  The front door banged open. "What's going on in here? Is everything all right?" Roman stood in the room, concern plastered all over his face. "I heard screams."

  He surveyed the scene. Em waved her hands over a frightened Tim, a massive unicorn finished what was left of Grandma's artichoke while she stroked its mane, and I held a pair of tweezers with a blue squiggly pinned between the tines. All in all, it was a pretty normal day.

  Poof!

  A ball of smoke appeared. The scent of cool fog filled my lungs. I coughed, waving away the smoke. A small man wearing a bowler hat and cape—he must've come from the same era Grandma pulled the unicorn from—stepped forward.

  "Inspector Pearbottom with the witch police. Who called?"

  I jumped in front of him, hoping to shield his view of Roman. "I did." I pointed to Em. "Arrest that woman. I have proof that she's trying to kill me and my sister."

  Em gaped at me. "What are you talkin' about?" She motioned her hand over Tim, and he fell unconscious. Sera caught him as he dropped to the floor and eased him down the rest of the way.

  Feeling very amateur-sleuth smart, I raised the blue thread. "This was found on Milly after she was attacked in her front yard." I pointed at Em. "It's you—you've been trying to kill us and steal our powers."

  Pearbottom—really? Who comes up with these names?—surveyed Em. "But that's Queen Witch."

  "Jonathan, I didn't do it," Em scoffed. "You know me."

  The inspector frowned, appearing uncertain of what to do. "I have to bring you in for questioning at least." He glanced at me. "Where's the proof?"

  I held out the thread. "Here it is."

  His face darkened as he turned to Em. "I'm afraid I have to do it. Em, come with—Roman Bane!"

  Every eye in the room swiveled to Roman, who stood with jaw clenched as he faced down the inspector. Pearbottom, clearly shaken, fumbled with a pair of handcuffs on his back pocket. After wiggling and yanking at them, he finally got them free from their place on his belt.

  He took a timid step forward. "R-r-roman B-b-bane, you're under arrest for m-m-murder. You will come w-with me at once to the c-c-c-council for p-punishment." He sighed, appearing relieved at finally getting the sentence out.

  I didn't blame him. Roman was intimidating on a good day, and downright scary on a bad one. Roman stepped forward. He held out his arms as if resigned to take his punishment.

  No! I couldn't stand and watch as Roman was arrested, ready to be sent to his death. He m
ight not like me, but I cared for him.

  What?

  Cared for him? When did that happen?

  I threw myself in the path of the inspector. "You can't take him. Whatever he did, it was for a good reason. Leave him alone."

  Pearbottom glared at me. "Step aside, miss. This is witch police business. You called me here. This man is a criminal."

  Roman placed a hand on my shoulder. "Dylan, it's for the best."

  "No."

  He cupped my face in his hands and smiled. "I knew the risk. Let him take me."

  "No," I whispered as tears blurred my vision.

  Roman reached out his arms. The inspector, tight-lipped and probably tight-bottomed, snapped the cuffs on Roman's wrists. The air crackled, and sparks flew from the metal restraints.

  Roman flashed me a smile.

  Then he vanished.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  "Where'd he go?" I demanded. I grabbed the inspector by his cape. "What have you done with him?"

  Pearbottom retreated. "I didn't do anything." He whirled on the roomful of women and one unicorn. "Which one of you transported him away?" All the witches wore blank stares. "I will ask only one more time. Which one of you did that?"

  Milly stepped forward. "It wasn't any of us, so why don't you do what you're supposed to and take this woman in for questioning?" She pointed at Em, who thrust out her chest.

  "Yes, take me in so that I can prove how stupid all of y'all are being. Arrest me, a person who can help catch the killer, while the real murderer is still on the loose."

  My stomach churned. Maybe she wasn't the killer. Perhaps I had it all wrong. But I'd come too far to back down now. "Inspector, I summoned you for this woman. Now, I don't know anything about a witch council or even a witch board of directors, if there is such a thing, but I do know that my life is in danger, and I suspect this woman is the culprit. Now, will you take her in? Or will you set her free?" I poked him in the chest. "But know this—if me or my sister dies, our blood will be on your hands."

  He smashed his lips together and squeezed his brows until they were practically one. "Fine. Queen Witch, Esmerelda Pommelton, come with me."