Southern Wands

by Amy Boyles

  “You did good tonight, little Stevie.”

  I frowned. “Little Stevie?”

  Betty nodded. “That’s what I named him.”

  I shot Rufus a concerned look. He simply shrugged. “Stevie seems as good a name as any.”

  “How’d he do good?” I said.

  Betty’s mouth quirked into smile. She pulled a wand out from beside her. “He brought me this.”

  The dark wood wasn’t anything special. The thing could’ve been a child’s play toy except for one thing—poison ivy snaked around the bark.

  I gasped. “That’s Lacy’s wand. How did you get it?”

  Betty nodded down to Stevie. “He got it for me. Without this, she’ll have much less of a chance to beat you in the competition.”

  I clapped with glee. “Oh, this is wonderful. So great, y’all.”

  Rufus frowned. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Sometimes wands without their owners can be sneaky little beasts.”

  “Huh?” I said.

  He pointed a finger at the wand. “I’d stay clear of it if I were you.”

  I smirked. Rufus knew a lot, but maybe he was wrong about this. “Anyway, Betty. We’re looking for Hugo. Is he in my room?”

  Betty’s face paled. Her expression soured.

  “What is it?” I said.

  “They came,” was all she said.

  I bit down the panic fighting to scramble up my throat. “Who came?”

  “Lacy and some others.”

  I gripped the back of the couch. “Why did they come?”

  She stared at the floor. “For him. For Hugo.”

  “Are you saying they took him? Why?”

  Her lower lip trembled. “Lacy said since they suspected the dragon of helping murder Bee, they were taking him with them.”

  I closed my eyes tightly. “Did they say what they would do to Hugo?”

  Betty shook her head. “No, they did not.” A glimmer of mischief shone in her eyes. She nodded to the guinea pig. “But I’m guessing we could find out.”

  THIRTEEN

  With Lacy’s blatant stealing of Hugo, I was ticked. The first thing I wanted to know, of course, was whether or not he was safe.

  According to Betty, Stevie would find that out for us. Rufus said he would work on that as well. But in the meantime it was late. Betty and I sat by the fire with Cordelia and Amelia, who had both come down from upstairs.

  “What is that?” Amelia said, eyeing the wand.

  “It’s Lacy’s wand,” Cordelia said.

  Amelia’s jaw dropped. “When she figures out you’ve got it, she’s going to rip our house to shreds.”

  Betty waved her hand dismissively. “She won’t find out.”

  “If we can keep it away from her, then Lacy won’t be able to beat me in the competition,” I said.

  “Isn’t that cheating?” Amelia pointed out.

  “It’s giving Pepper an advantage,” Betty said.

  Cordelia picked up an apple lying in a fruit bowl and took a big bite. “Y’all aren’t discussing the most obvious thing.”

  “Shouldn’t you be rationing?” Amelia pointed out.

  Cordelia ignored her. “Isn’t Lacy going to notice that her wand is missing?”

  “I’ve got a plan for that,” Betty said. “I’ll sneak a fake into her pocket tomorrow.”

  Cordelia stared blankly at Betty. “That sounds like a deadly idea.”

  “Or stupid,” I added. “How are you going to slip it into her pocket?”

  “I’m not.” Betty grinned wickedly. “One of y’all will.”

  Needless to say, that didn’t exactly go over well. None of us volunteered, but Betty wasn’t disheartened. That was obvious from the devilish gleam in her eye.

  She’d really grabbed hold of this whole resistance thing and had run with it.

  The four of us headed off toward our bedrooms. Stevie followed me. I guess the guinea pig could tell that I was lonely.

  Mattie the Cat greeted us when we entered. “Ooh, looks like supper.”

  Stevie froze. I scooped the rodent into my arms. “He’s off-limits.”

  Mattie’s tail flickered in annoyance. “I was only joking, sugar. Everyone knows guinea pigs are tough and stringy.”

  I gently placed Stevie on the bed. “You’ll be fine here. She won’t bother you.”

  Then I set off to shower and change my clothes. By the time I’d finished, both animals were sound asleep and I wasn’t too far behind.

  I awoke to a bright and sunny morning. I yawned widely, stretched my arms over my head and glanced at my phone to see if Axel had sent me any texts.

  Morning, sunshine, he’d written.

  Morning, yourself. I added a smiley face.

  I laid the phone down beside me and noticed that Stevie was gone. I pushed up, searching for him, and did not expect to find him squatting at the foot of my bed.

  Beside him lay Lacy’s wand and—an eyeball!

  I bolted up, biting back a scream. An eye! My gaze darted from the shiny blue iris to Stevie.

  What sort of guinea pig was this? Some crazy carnivorous rodent that ate people? Because the eye was clearly human.

  A quick search of the room revealed no Mattie. “Where’s my cat?” I demanded.

  Mattie sauntered from the bathroom. “I’m right here.”

  I pointed at the orb, trying to keep my voice calm. “Did you see that?”

  Mattie blinked at the objects. She yawned. “What? That glass eye?”

  My rising panic dissipated. “It’s glass?”

  The cat strode over and batted it from the rug. It hit the wooden floor with a thunk.

  I exhaled and sank back onto the bed. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought…”

  “That the rodent had killed someone?”

  When she put it that way, I had to grudgingly admit it sounded ridiculous.

  “Of course I didn’t think that,” I scoffed. “How ludicrous.” I reached down and patted Stevie. He leaned into my hand, so I scratched him behind the ears.

  “But whose eye is it?” Mattie said.

  Then I remembered that Rufus had mentioned that Widdon wore a glass eye. I groaned. The last thing I wanted to do was hand some crime lord his eye. That would put a lot of unwanted attention on me. Let’s face it, I already had enough attention—the bad kind.

  But at the same time it would give me an excuse to speak with him, find out what he knew, if anything, about Bee’s death. If I could rule out the three witches vying for her old position, I could then focus on Lacy as the killer.

  Which made the most sense to me anyway seeing as she was one nasty witch.

  I was apprehensive about touching the eye but had no choice. Cringing, I plucked it from the wood. The smooth surface was cool in my fingers.

  I considered the fact that a head witch would have a glass eye as opposed to healing himself. I wondered if there was a story there.

  Figuring there wasn’t time to delve into the mysteries of head witches, I dressed and picked up the wand, eyeball and Stevie, who might have to start being locked up at night so that he didn’t run away. I would mention it to Betty, but had a feeling that would screw with her whole “resistance movement” plans.

  I grabbed the doorknob and turned, or at least tried to turn. The knob wouldn’t give.

  I gritted my teeth and gave it a stronger tug. Darned thing still wouldn’t move.

  “Okay,” I shouted, “whose big idea was it to lock me in?”

  Amelia’s voice came from the other side. “It wasn’t me. Pretty sure it wasn’t Cordelia.”

  “What’s all this ruckus?” Grandma Betty said.

  “I’m locked in.” I pulled the door. “It won’t budge.”

  Betty paused. “Is that wand in there with you?”

  I stared down at it. “Yes.”

  “That’s it. Silly thing is playing a trick.”

  The wand looked innocent as I gripped it. “Can you fix this, Betty? I’ve got to get
out of here.”

  Just then the wand zipped from my hand and hovered in the air. It moved left and right, thrusting out sprays of magic. One of the tendrils hit my mirror. A flame burst from the mirror.

  I screeched. “It’s setting my room on fire!”

  It zapped the bed with another flame. The wand danced around, seeming to laugh at me.

  “You’re not mischievous,” I snarled. “You’re just plain old evil.”

  I dashed to the window and threw it open. “Mattie, get Stevie out of here.”

  Mattie’s yellow eyes widened in fear. “What are you gonna do, sugar? Fight it?”

  I rolled up my sleeves. “I dang sure am.”

  From the other side of the door I heard Betty and my cousins yelling, trying to get the door open.

  I whirled on the wand. It stopped mid-dance. It was like the two of us were staring down one another. Smoke started filling the room. I coughed as the caustic fumes irritated my lungs and made my throat burn.

  “You will stop,” I demanded.

  The wand twirled away and sent another flaming finger to ignite one of my blouses.

  “That’s my best shirt!”

  Hence the reminder to always pick my clothes up and leave them in the closet. Perhaps I should start being neater.

  I focused my magic on making the wand breaking in two. I had to stop the thing somehow.

  But it didn’t work. Then I realized that I was doing it all wrong.

  This was a fire wand. It possessed elemental power. I had to fight one element with another.

  My gaze darted around the room. What could I use? The smoke thickened, making it harder to breath, and the heat—it was oppressive.

  I grabbed a damp towel from last night’s shower. I begged, I wished and I pleaded for the thing to turn into ice.

  Nothing happened.

  Then I thought about Axel, that I would never see him again. That he was all alone in the sticks. Emotion unfurled in my chest like a great ribbon flowing from me. The towel in my hand started to transform.

  It became a sheet of liquid that I threw at the wand. Every fire in my room was quenched as the wall of water enveloped the poison-ivy-covered stick, wrapping it in a magical cocoon.

  The wand fell limply to the floor, and the door burst open. Betty and my cousins stood staring at my room. Smoke churned on the ceiling. Betty clapped her hands. A breeze whisked the fumes out the window.

  “What happened?” Betty said.

  I stared at the wand and the towel. A slow smile curled on my face. “I guess I learned how to tap into my powers to transform one thing into an element. Granted, it wasn’t the element I wanted, but it worked.”

  The wand wriggled under the towel. Betty slowly bent over and scooped the struggling wand into her arms. “I think I’ll have to find a better container to hold it in.”

  Cordelia smirked. “You sure you don’t want to just give it back?”

  Betty smiled mysteriously. “Nope. Not yet.”

  Betty made sure all the fires were completed quenched. She then righted my bedroom, even saving my blouse from the ashes. She was also nice enough to get rid of the smoke smell from my clothes and hair.

  When we got downstairs, Rufus was waiting.

  “Good news,” I said. “I changed a towel into a wall of water.”

  “That is good news,” he said proudly.

  “Bad news is I was trying to turn it into ice.”

  He nodded in understanding. “One step at a time.”

  “But there’s more good news.”

  He hiked a brow in question. “What would that be?”

  I flashed the eyeball. “Got this little diddy from Stevie. I think it belongs to Widdon Franks.”

  “Let me see that.”

  I handed it to him. Rufus turned it right and left and finally palmed it in his hand. “So it does.” A slow smile curled on his lips. “Let’s go see if he needs it back.”

  FOURTEEN

  Ever since the mass of head witches had entered town, they had converged on the few restaurants we had for their meals. Since Spellin’ Skillet was the best place around for comfort food and since Widdon was, well, let’s put it this way—huge—it seemed Spellin’ would be the place to find him.

  Rufus and I arrived right at the lunch rush. We had to wait for a table, which gave me plenty of time to search for the ex–crime lord.

  I nodded to a four-top clear in back. “He’s back there.”

  Widdon faced us. This close I could see his second chin resting on his third and fourth chins that spread like butter onto his chest.

  I nudged Rufus. “Tell him you want to have a meeting.”

  He scoffed. “Is that your grand plan?”

  “Okay, tell him I’m a huge fan of his.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  I shrugged. “Well then I’ll do it.” I strode off.

  Rufus caught up to me. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “No, of course not,” I snapped. “But we have to do something. We’ve got a dead witch, a town on lockdown and an insane woman who wants to ooze my powers from me and leave me a vegetable.” I glared at him. “So yes, I’m going in.”

  “Okay,” Rufus relented. “But let me lead.”

  I grinned at him. “Absolutely.”

  We reached the table, and Rufus extended his hand. “Widdon Franks, I’m Rufus Mayes. Pleased to meet you.”

  The wizard sitting across from Widdon got up and left. Widdon himself wore an eye patch over his missing organ. I palmed the glass object in my pocket.

  Gross, huh? I never would’ve done it if the eye had been real, but glass was different and it was clean. There wasn’t any goop on it.

  Ew. I recoiled at the thought of goop.

  Rufus gestured to the open bench seat. “May we join you?”

  Widdon eyed me. “You’re Pepper Dunn. It might not be wise for me to be seen with you in public.”

  I clicked my tongue. “Oh? Fraternizing with the enemy and all that?”

  Widdon wiped his plump sausage fingers on a napkin. “Something like that,” he said in a deep voice. “You might be bad for business.”

  “I’m not looking to buy anything from you. I’m not interested in black market offerings.”

  Widdon’s eyes narrowed.

  Rufus whispered, “Pepper,” in warning.

  Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have brought up that I knew he had been a crime lord. But really—what did I have to lose?

  Not one thing.

  Widdon’s face cracked into a smile. “You’re a dame with gonads. I like you. Sit.”

  Rufus and I sat before the kingpin—or ex, as it was.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “We’re looking for information,” Rufus said.

  “I don’t give anything without getting something in return.”

  I nearly rolled my eyes. Of course he didn’t. “I have something of yours—something you’ll want back.”

  He quirked the only brow I could see. “That is?”

  I glanced at Rufus, who nodded slightly. I pulled the eye from my pocket and laid it on the table.

  Widdon practically salivated at the sight of it—no pun intended. “How’d you get your mitts on my eye?”

  Did I mention he also spoke like a gangster?

  “Never mind,” I said curtly. “But I’ve got it and I’m more than willing to give it back.” I flipped a strand of red hair from my shoulders. “For a price.”

  “A dame who drives a hard bargain. It’s a shame you won’t join us.”

  “I’m not into harming werewolves. I’m partial to them.”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to take what’s yours, no matter the price.”

  Widdon studied me with his one good eye. A shudder threatened to zip down my spine. I shook it off.

  Rufus steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. “We need to know why you want to be one of the three.”

  Widdon cracked a smi
le. “Why? You voting?”

  “No, but a witch is dead—one who was trying to help me,” I snapped.

  His expression sobered. “The position became available, and let’s just say I don’t like to waste opportunities.”

  “It’s close to getting into the High Witch Council,” I said.

  “A few steps away,” Widdon said. “The Order needs strong leadership. That’s why I tossed my hat in the ring. Bee was kind—too kind; it’s probably what got her killed.”

  “Did you know her well?” I said.

  “Well enough that I could tell she’d end up dying trying to save someone who wasn’t worth it,” he said smugly. Widdon picked up a fry from his plate and dredged it through a pond of ketchup before eating it.

  “She was burned,” I said. “It’s a horrible way to die.”

  “It’s how witches have been killed for centuries,” Widdon remarked. “But if you’re really asking if I killed her or knew anything about her death—no, I didn’t. The only thing I can tell you is that in order to make it out of the camp the way she did to meet you, she would’ve had to have either slipped past a guard or paid them off.”

  Widdon eyed me. “My bet would be that she paid someone off. Bee might’ve been one of the three, but she wasn’t top dog when it came to magic. In my opinion that’s one of the reasons she wound up dead.”

  “Who were the guards on duty that night?” Rufus asked.

  Widdon opened his palm. “The eye first.”

  I grabbed it. “No. First you tell us who was on guard.”

  Widdon smiled, but his eye held no warmth for me. “I’ll tell you who the most important one was.”

  “And who was that?”

  “Young fella,” Widdon said, “named Sherman Oaks.”

  “Isn’t he vying to be one of the three?” I said to Rufus.

  Rufus nodded. “Yes, he is.”

  I extended my hand and dropped the eye into Widdon’s palm. “Thanks for your help. If we need anything else, can we talk to you?”

  Widdon flipped up the pirate patch and shoved the glass eye in its socket. “Of course. But don’t forget”—he smiled smugly—“I don’t give nothin’ away for free. Everything comes with a price.”

  Rufus rose and I followed. I glared down at Widdon, a man who had bartered in the underworld.