Crazy For Brew

by Annabel Chase

  "Thanks," I said. "Is there one for Mrs. Goldman, too?"

  Britta looked hesitant, and I realized what she was thinking. There was a seat, but it was entirely too small for the giant. As it was, the top of her head brushed the ceiling.

  “Don't mind me,” Mrs. Goldman said. "I can stand. I'll hold the harp. It won't be heavy for me. Not with arms like mine.”

  I didn't want Mrs. Goldman to feel left out. If she had to stand while everyone else sat, she’d be uncomfortable. Then again, I didn't really see another option. There was no way she would fit in the chair. I felt guilty for not thinking of it earlier.

  "Everyone," I said, clapping my hands. "I'd like to introduce you to Mrs. Goldman, a new addition to Spellbound. She moved here with her husband and daughter."

  Mrs. Goldman blushed. "You can call me Reba.”

  My classmates called out greetings. Britta came to stand in front of her and admire her size.

  “If I were as big as you, there would never be another crime committed in Spellbound,” she said in awe.

  “Oh, I don't know about that," Reba said. "I'm not very intimidating."

  Britta surveyed Reba’s muscles. "What about your daughter? Do you think she has a violent streak?" She paused. "I consider that a plus, by the way, in case I wasn't clear."

  Reba laughed gently. "I think it's clear. No, I don't think Lizzie has a violent streak, but I appreciate your interest."

  Britta snapped her fingers in disappointment. "I'm not sure if there are enough harps tonight, but you can use mine. I’ll share with Emma."

  I shot her a quizzical look. "Why not share with Paisley?" I scanned the room for Britta’s girlfriend.

  “She's not here tonight," Britta replied. "She's not feeling well."

  “Then shouldn’t we have an extra harp?" I queried.

  “Myra sent one in for repair," Milton interjected. "Britta broke one of the strings last time."

  Britta shrugged. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength. It's a gift."

  Reba took a harp and remained standing by the snack table. I could tell she felt out of place, and I wished there was a way I could make her feel more at home. A thought occurred to me.

  I walked up to Reba and lowered my voice. "I don't want to presume anything, but if you like, I could do a spell to make you smaller. Just for class, of course. I don't mean to suggest your size is a bad thing."

  Reba offered a warm smile. "I would hug you if I knew it wouldn't crush you to death. Emma, I know perfectly well that you’re not trying to insult my size. If you really think you know a spell, I would love to fit in, at least for this class.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “I’m not ashamed of my size, but it does make moments like this more awkward than I would like."

  I removed Tiffany from my waistband. “Then I’m happy to help.”

  “Ooh, what a beautiful color," Reba said. "I've never seen a wand quite that shade of blue."

  I gave the wand an affectionate stroke. "It is pretty, isn't it? It was broken recently, and I'm so relieved it could be repaired. Tiffany and I have been through a lot together."

  I focused my will and pointed my wand at the giant. "Beautiful creatures short and tall/make this lovely giant small."

  Reba quickly shrank until she was my height, and the harp fell to the floor with a thud. She examined her puny arms. “I guess I lose my strength when I'm smaller."

  "There are certain advantages to your size," I said.

  Reba’s smile lit up the room. “This is going to be so fun. I can't wait to tell Horace and Lizzie when I get home."

  Britta gestured to the available seats as the calming sounds of the harp drifted through the room. "Come on, tiny giant. There's plenty of room."

  Reba gave me a grateful smile. "There is now."

  Do we have to do this? Sedgwick asked, circling above me.

  Yes, I said. I parked Sigmund and began the trek to the cottage in the woods.

  It's still spooky, my familiar said. It doesn't matter whether she's passed on or not.

  I didn't disagree. It didn't matter, though. I was here to pay my respects to Raisa’s grave. She wasn't buried in the cemetery—she was here and here she would always remain.

  Why do you think she left the cottage to you? Sedgwick asked.

  Because she trusted me. It was a simple as that. And I had trusted her, not knowing the truth about her past. Despite her lies, I couldn’t bring myself to dislike the frightening old witch. I missed her rotting eyeballs and chicken legs. Oddly, I even missed wondering whether her bubbling cauldron was meant for me.

  I approached the gate made of bones and entered the yard. The cottage was exactly as I’d left it the last time I was here. The skull still hung above the door, and the roof was still thatched with bones.

  You're going to redecorate, right? Sedgwick asked. Please say yes.

  I haven't decided what I'm going to do with the property yet, I said. For now, I would rather leave it be. I'm just not ready.

  Well, I'm ready to leave, so just say the word.

  You don't have to stay, Sedgwick, I said. I'm fine here on my own.

  Sedgwick sighed. I can't leave you on your own, Princess Buttercup. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you.

  I glanced skyward and gave him a skeptical look. "Are you sure about that?”

  Okay, fine. Daniel would never forgive me if anything happened to you, and Gareth would haunt me for the rest of his unnatural life. Are you happy?

  “At least you’re being honest.”

  The door creaked as I pushed it open. The interior looked exactly the same. Raisa’s vials and jars crammed the shelves. A small table with two chairs sat in front of the window. Out back, the well-tended herb garden had become overgrown.

  "I'll have to do a spell to fix the garden," I said to myself. I’d leave the frog legs and newt eyes for Sedgwick.

  Um, Your Highness. There are unfamiliar vehicles approaching.

  What do you mean? I peered out the window to see a small group vacating a car. A real car, more like the kind I was used to in the human world. Not the jalopies that were prevalent in Spellbound.

  What would you like me to do? Sedgwick asked.

  Stay put, I said. If I need help, fly home for Daniel.

  Copy that. Standing by for further instructions, he replied.

  I waited for them to come to the door. After all, this was my cottage now. I observed their horror as they made their way through the gate and took in their surroundings. I couldn't blame them. It wasn't exactly a warm and fuzzy place, nor had Raisa been a warm and fuzzy witch.

  When I opened the door, the young woman in the lead whipped out her wand and took aim at me.

  “Drop your weapon," she barked.

  "I'm not holding a weapon," I said.

  "She has power," another young woman said. "I can feel it. Very strong."

  The first young woman kept her wand pointed at me, while a man stepped forward. “We understand this property belonged to a witch known as Raisa."

  “That’s right," I said. "And now it belongs to me, so I would appreciate it if you would vacate the premises immediately before I send for the sheriff."

  The group stared at me, debating what to do. They clearly hadn’t been expecting the cottage to be occupied.

  The man gave me an annoyed look. "My name is Theo Armitage from the Agency of Magical Forces. I'm a Warden of the West and these are my students from the Spellslingers Academy of Magic. I entreat you to come out of the cottage with your hands on your head."

  I put my hands on my hips instead. “Under whose authority? You have no jurisdiction here.”

  "I think you'll find that we do,” Theo said. “Now that the borders are open, Spellbound is no longer autonomous in the paranormal world.”

  "I'd like to see the piece of paper that says that," I said. Behind him, his little entourage snickered.

  Theo bristled. "I don't need to prove anythi
ng to you. Now, do as I say or face the consequences."

  "The consequences of you trespassing on my property?" I queried. "How do you feel about prison? Because you'll be spending at least one night staring at the inside of the cell, I can assure you."

  Theo looked ready to burst a vein. He was clearly not accustomed to being disobeyed. I felt sorry for his students. They didn't appear much younger than me.

  “By the power vested in me…" Theo began.

  I folded my arms and leaned against the doorjamb. "The power vested in you? Am I getting married again? Because I only did that a few weeks ago. I think my husband would be disappointed to learn that I’d already made a second attempt."

  “I warned you to stop saying that line," the dark-haired young woman said.

  "Why is the Warden of the West coming here now?" I asked.

  "The West doesn't mean West Coast of America," Theo chided me. "It means the Western Hemisphere."

  "Oh, I know what it means," I said. "My mother happened to be one. I’m just wondering why you think it's your business to come here now. You obviously know that Raisa is dead and her soul has moved on. Have you come to dance on her grave?”

  Theo gaped at me. "What do you mean your mother was a Warden of the West? How is that possible?"

  "Newsflash," I said. "Just because I'm here now doesn't mean I've been trapped here for hundreds of years.”

  “She's got you there, Armitage," the dark-haired girl said.

  "What's your name?" he asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.

  "Emma Hart," I said. "But that alone probably won't help you. My mother gave me to the Harts to keep me safe. Her name was Luna.”

  Still staring at me, Theo extended his arm and lowered his companion’s wand. “I’m familiar with her file. There’s no mention of a daughter.”

  “That doesn't surprise me," I said. "She went to great lengths to keep me a secret. Apparently, she was concerned for my safety. Seems my father was one of her collars.”

  The dark-haired young woman appeared interested. “You have an evil dad, too, huh? It’s a real drag, I know all about it.”

  “Be quiet, Bryn,” Theo said. “Not everything is about you.”

  Spell’s bells. I really disliked his attitude.

  "I don't know whether he was evil," I said. "I just know that it was probably a bad idea for my mother to have been romantically involved with him."

  “Why did Raisa leave you her property?” Theo asked. “What kind of relationship did you have?”

  “Not really your business,” I said. “I’m all done with the interview now. I have a busy schedule today, and I’m afraid entertaining visitors isn’t on it.”

  Theo seemed uncertain how to proceed. “Raisa wasn’t a good witch, Ms. Hart. You should know that.”

  “No one is all good or all bad, Mr. Armitage,” I said.

  “You don’t know what she did…” he began.

  “I know exactly what she did,” I interrupted. “And I also know all the good she did for me during her time here. She could’ve killed me many times over or even ignored me, but she chose to help me instead. I owe her for that.”

  His face turned a shade of purple. “You’re very naive, Ms. Hart.”

  “I’d rather be naive than a judgmental jackass,” I shot back. Sheesh. Maybe some of the Spellbound Day ale had found its way into my system.

  “Come on, Armitage,” Bryn said. “We don’t have a warrant.”

  “Because we don’t usually need them for an abandoned property,” he said.

  “Not as abandoned as you thought,” I said. “Seems to me the Wardens need better intel. Thanks for stopping by, though.”

  Bryn smothered a laugh. “Pro tip before we go,” she said. “Ditch the skull and crossbones decor if you want visitors to come willingly.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, craning my neck to admire the skull above the door. “I see it as skeleton chic.”

  “You’re both nuts,” Theo said, and motioned for his entourage to retreat.

  Permission to fire? Sedgwick asked, careening into view.

  I cracked a knowing smile at Theo Armitage. Permission granted.

  Chapter 15

  New Brew was located at the opposite end of town from What Ales You, and I wondered whether it had been a conscious choice. Sheriff Astrid had sent her messenger owl with the news that the lab had identified traces of a potion, and the team was working to narrow down the specific substances. I still wasn't convinced that Mr. Burdock had anything to do with it, though. There was no motive, for one thing. It made more sense to me that his business rival had attempted to sabotage his business.

  New Brew’s offices were much swankier than What Ales You. The reception area was designed like a lounge complete with a bar. I got the impression that tastings were a frequent feature of office life.

  A middle-aged nymph greeted me from behind the reception counter. "Welcome to New Brew. Do you have an appointment?"

  "I don't. I'm sorry,” I said. “I’d like to speak to the owner if he’s available.”

  "May I say who’s inquiring?" the receptionist asked.

  “My name is Emma Hart. I'd like to speak to him about What Ales You."

  The receptionist peered at me. "This is New Brew. The other brewery is across town."

  “Yes, I know that." It was as much information as I was willing to divulge.

  The receptionist paused briefly before heading to the private office. A moment later, she returned with a genie floating behind her.

  "I understand you’d like speak to me about my competitor," the genie said, frowning. "Are you trying to sell me equipment or something? Because we have everything we need right now.”

  I laughed. "No, nobody would want that. I’d be terrible at sales.”

  “Then I guess I won’t ask if you’re interested in our sales position. I’ve been up to my eyeballs in orders.”

  “Do you really have a sales position open?” I asked. “Because I think I have the ideal paranormal for the job. She’s very customer focused and has extensive sales experience.” Sort of.

  Toby and Edie exchanged eager glances. “I’ll interview her tomorrow if she’s available. I’m desperate for help.”

  “Great. Her name is Micki Taylor.”

  “Make a note of it, would you, Edie?” He gestured for me to follow him to the bar. "Can I interest you in a tasting?"

  My stomach churned at the thought of ale. My evening at the Horned Owl had been quite enough for one lifetime.

  "I'm sure it's wonderful,” I said, “but I may have overindulged the other night, and my body still hasn't recovered."

  He chuckled. “I’m familiar with the issue. I’m Toby, by the way. Toby Aziz.” He shook my hand firmly.

  “Your offices are impressive," I said. "I wasn't expecting something so eye-catching.”

  Toby helped himself to a pint of ale as we spoke. "I hired that local minotaur, Markos. I wanted the best in town, and he’s definitely it.”

  "You chose well," I said. "Markos is definitely the best."

  "So what can I tell you about my competitor?” Toby asked. "We haven't actually met. I know we’re both new to Spellbound and that he was unhappy with my presence here, but that's all I know."

  "I noticed his free samples on Spellbound Day," I said.

  Toby grimaced. "It was such a smart marketing move, I felt like a prize idiot to have missed it. I didn't even know about the celebration until it was too late to get organized. I told Edie it was a genius move, and I wish I’d thought of it."

  “Who’s Edie?” I asked.

  “My girlfriend,” Toby said. “You met her.” He blew a kiss to the receptionist.

  "Did you attend any of the festivities?" I asked.

  "I couldn't, unfortunately," he replied, taking another sip of ale. "I already had a meeting scheduled with the owner of Moonshine. That’s one reason I need a sales associate, to take some of the work off my plate. Edie and I can only d
o so much without help.”

  "Have you found it difficult to break into the market here?" I asked.

  "It's been surprisingly easy," Toby said. "And that's exactly what I was hoping for. Spellbound is far from saturated. It's the perfect time to get in and develop a loyal client base. Obviously, What Ales You had the same strategy."

  "What made you leave your previous location?" I asked, assuming he had one.

  Toby circled the rim of his glass with his thumb, thinking. "Edie wanted a fresh start. We both lost our spouses in the last five years, and we were lucky to find each other, but neither of us could shake our past. I loved my wife, but I saw her everywhere I went with Edie, and it was the same for her. I got to the point where we stopped going out to dinner because all our favorite restaurants felt haunted."

  “I'm so sorry, Toby," I said. "That must've been hard for both of you."

  He nodded and swallowed more of his ale. "It was Edie’s idea to come to Spellbound. I was reluctant to leave the brewery because it's been successful. She convinced me to take the risk, and I'm glad we did. It's been great for us to explore a new town together, one where we don't have baggage weighing us down."

  "Did you sell the other brewery?" I asked.

  “No, I have a small management team in place," he said. "I'll make quarterly trips to check on them. They've been with me for years now, so I trust them."

  Toby certainly didn't strike me as the kind of paranormal that would play dirty against a competitor. Then again, he was a genie, so he was well-versed in magic. I decided to share the most damning information and gauge his reaction.

  “Too bad Mr. Burdock can’t say the same. The sheriff found traces of a magical potion in the vat at What Ales You," I said.

  Toby's brow furrowed. "He's adding magic potions to his ale? Why?”

  "He claims he's not responsible," I said. “Apparently, he’s concerned that a competitor may have done it in order to sabotage the new business venture.” I steepled my fingers and watched him expectantly.

  Toby was aghast. "I would never, ever compromise someone's product. That's a breach of trust with the community at large, not to mention a criminal offense. I’ve seen far too much shady behavior in my time to ever want to replicate it. No, I'm a free market guy. No shortcuts." He made a chopping motion with his hand.