by Amy Boyles
Grandma leaned in as if sharing a super confidential tidbit of information. “Tickling is the best torture ever invented. You’ll get what you want out of someone faster by tickling them than by torture.”
“You don’t say,” I said.
“I do say.” She shoved a tray under my nose. “Now. Why don’t you try one?”
So we ate a late lunch comprised of sausage balls and lime sherbet punch. Nan had made the punch. When the sugar coma trying to overtake me had me unhooking my belt and looking for my bed, Roman nudged me.
“Where’s Reggie?”
“Oh right.” I led him to Reid’s room. I found her backpack easily enough and dug through it. “Huh. It’s not here.”
“Do you think it could be anywhere else?” Roman said.
I shrugged. “No clue. Hey, Reggie, where are you?”
No answer. I called Reid again.
“It’s there. In my backpack. That’s the last place I put him.”
“He’s not here now,” I said.
“Then I don’t know where he is,” Reid said.
I groaned. “Great.”
I hung up the phone and turned to Roman. “It’s supposed to be here.”
He left the room and headed toward the kitchen. I followed him quick as lightning. We found Nan and Grandma washing dishes.
“Has anyone been here? In the house?” he asked them.
My grandmother paused. “No one except for that nice electrician man who came to check out the ceiling fan.”
“Grandma, no one called an electrician,” I said.
She shrugged. “He said someone did.”
I smacked my forehead. “What did he look like?”
Nan licked her lips. “Well, he wasn’t showing any butt crack, so I thought he was handsome.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Anything else you remember about him?”
Grandma shook her head. “No he was a pretty regular looking handyman.”
“Do you know what company he came from?” I asked.
Grandma pursed her lips. “Hmmm. No.”
“Did you write him a check?”
She shook her head. “Said he didn’t need payment.”
“Figures,” I said. I turned to Roman. “I’ll see if Milly can perform a magical tracking spell to find the book.”
Roman nodded. “Sounds like a plan. You want to call and ask her that?”
I spit out a bit of hangnail. “No. I’m kinda afraid she’ll kill me when she finds out. I’ll wait.”
He glanced at Grandma. “Ever heard of a Professor Alias?”
She clutched the pearls around her neck. “Professor Alias! I haven’t heard that name in a long time.” She fluffed her hair. “Is he nearby?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Why?”
She opened her eyes wide like that stupid Dewy Dewberry always did and said, “If you see him, tell him I said hello.”
“I would if I knew where to find him.”
“He’s probably still working at the university.”
I frowned. “What university?”
She pressed a finger to her lips to suggest silence. “Auburn University, of course. In the science department.”
Roman scrubbed a palm down the two-day-old stubble on his chin. “Will he go by Alias?”
She nodded. “I believe so.”
***
Alias did, in fact, go by Alias, and he was open to meeting us the next day, which required more time spent in the car than I was looking forward to, but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. Reid was nice enough to watch Perfect Fit as the only class she had was online.
We found Alias in an annexed building at the university. Some ancient structure that used to be part of the science department but was abandoned by the rest of the staff when the new building was erected. Apparently Alias decided to stay.
As soon as I stepped inside, I understood why.
The main laboratory resembled a hothouse more than a lab. Small trees and birds filled the nooks and crannies of the space. Several tables sat in the middle, and those were filled with bubbling beakers, distilled liquid in vials, colorful solutions—it was sort of a mad scientist’s dream come true.
“Alias,” Roman said. A man at the very end of the room whirled around. He wore a white lab coat and held a piece of chalk in one hand. He’d been scribbling on an old-fashioned chalkboard.
Untamed gray hair nested his head, and round glasses perched on his nose. His movements were quick, birdlike. He was, all in all, a rather strange little man. I could see why my grandma liked him. “Yes, yes, that’s me. Alias. Who wants to know?”
“We spoke on the phone,” Roman said.
Alias grasped his hands behind his back. “Yes, yes. What can I help you with?”
“I understand you knew Edgar Norwood.”
He clipped his head from side to side. “Norwood? No, I don’t think I’m aware of that name.”
I pulled out the book on animal familiars and tapped the inscription. “You signed this here.”
He stared at the page and then cut his gaze from me to Roman and back to the page. “Interesting that someone would forge my signature. But I’m sorry to say I don’t know him.”
“Norwood was murdered a few days ago,” Roman said.
Alias shuddered. “Terrible. The things people do to one another. But I’m sorry to say, I still don’t know him.”
I glanced at Roman. He sauntered up to one of the wooden tables and tapped his fingers. “Hazel Horton says hello.”
Alias froze. I swear his eyebrows rose three feet. “H-h-h-azel? How do you know her?”
Roman pointed at me. “That’s her granddaughter.”
Alias stared over the rim of his glasses at me. He came close, grabbed my ears and turned my head from side to side. “Yes, I see the resemblance. It’s faint, but it’s there.” He sighed. A dreamy expression splashed across his face. “Hazel. How is she?”
I pulled from his grasp. “First, tell us about that message to Norwood.”
Alias pulled up a stool and sat. “I’m not a witch by nature, but I’ve worked in potions all my life, trying to help witches solve problems. Warts for instance. Some witches have terrible luck with that. I’ve created potions to get rid of them. It’s been my life’s work to help others.”
I tapped the book where he’d signed it. “What does this mean, though? When you feel the end is near, find me.”
Alias pulled off his glasses and polished them. “You know that some witches have familiars. Or at least they used to. It’s not as common a practice anymore, though there are certain things familiars do that are useful.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“They can channel magic, help you find objects, that sort of thing.” He held up his hand and a yellow parakeet landed on the tip of his finger. He watched as the bird preened its feathers. “Have you ever wondered how familiars are created?”
“No,” I said. “Not once.”
“It’s the soul of a person inside the body of an animal. When the person is about to die, they work a bit of transmutation magic. The theory is that when death comes, their soul will then be whisked out of the body and channeled into a new one.”
“An animal’s,” Roman said.
“Right.”
“And you were teaching Edgar about this?” I said.
Alias nodded. “It’s the cornerstone of my research. Not what the university knows about, of course. It’s a secret. But something I’m passionate about. Edgar knew how to do the transmutation.”
“And now he’s dead,” I said.
Alias leaned forward. His eyes sparkled. “Is he?” he said.
I smoothed the crease forming in my brow. “What are you saying? Do you mean Norwood’s somehow alive?”
Alias lifted his hand, and the bird flittered away. “Yes and no. If Norwood followed the spell, then at the time of death he transmuted into another form.”
“You mean he’s a familiar.
”
Alias smiled. “Exactly. Norwood may currently be inside the body of an animal. If you want to know his secrets, there’s one thing you must do.”
I nodded. “We need to find him.”
SEVENTEEN
We stayed and talked to Alias for a while and then took our time getting home, stopping to eat supper on the way back. By the time we returned, it was so late I wouldn’t be getting much beauty sleep.
Reid was still up, sitting in the living room. She was hugging a pillow so hard I thought she might start making out with it.
Kidding.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She sniffled. “As okay as I’m going to be.”
I wrapped my arms around her. “Is it Rick?”
She nodded. “I just don’t understand why he did it. Why’d he break up with me? And why does he live next door? Now I have to look at him every day.”
I squeezed her shoulder. “Only if you spy on him with the binoculars. It’s not mandatory that you make sure you run into him all the time.”
“Very funny. But, it hurts.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I know it does. There’s nothing I can say that will make that pain go away.” I tapped her thigh. “Scootch.” Reid shifted over and I sat down. “You were doing good a couple of days ago. What happened?”
Reid shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I started thinking about it. It’s just— This is going to sound stupid.”
I threaded my fingers through her hair. Reid sighed. She shifted, lying down, and pressed her head into my lap. She used to do that all the time when she was a little girl, but since she’d grown up, Reid had become too big for that sort of sister/sister bonding.
I started braiding her hair. “Nothing you say is going to sound stupid.”
“I wish I had what you and Roman have.”
I choked back a laugh. “Reid, my relationship isn’t perfect. It’s far from it. The other day we got into an argument and I thought we’d broken up. Roman didn’t see it that way at all. He just thought I needed a little air in my sails, I guess. Some time on my own to think.”
“What’s there to think about? He loves you. You love him.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Only because you make it.”
I tugged her hair. “I thought I was the one giving out advice.”
“I’m not giving advice, I’m stating fact. You’ve been worried about this whole Dewy Dewberry situation when you didn’t need to be.”
“Okay.”
Reid sniffled. “Seriously. That woman is nothing more than fluff. Roman knows that. You’re the girl with substance. Sometimes you can be a little whiny, but he still loves you, and you love him. Now all you need to do is get married.”
“Yeah, right. I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon.”
Reid sat up. “Why do you fight him so much?”
I shook my head. “I’m not fighting anything.”
“Yes, you are. You’ve fought against this entire relationship from the beginning.”
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Maybe it’s this relationship.”
Reid frowned. “I don’t think so. I think you’d fight any relationship, no matter who it was with. Even Chris Hemsworth.”
I gasped. “How dare you speak blasphemy.”
Reid giggled. “You don’t have to lose yourself in order to love someone. Everyone knows that. And you can’t go through life without getting hurt. That’s just stupid. But part of living is giving yourself to someone—someone that can hurt you—but trusting that they won’t. You can’t blame Roman for what Colten did, and you can’t let Colten control the rest of your life. Roman deserves more and Colten deserves less.”
She paused to scratch her nose. “You have what anyone would want—a good guy who loves you. All you have to do is trust enough to let yourself love him. If you don’t, you haven’t grown as a person. Heck, what’s the point of living on this planet if you don’t learn things and become better?”
“Okay, Plato, thanks for the philosophy lesson.”
Reid rolled over and patted my head like I was a puppy. “It’s not a lesson—it’s fact. If you want the relationship with Roman that you deserve, you’re going to have to learn how to trust. Yes, that means you might get hurt. Look at me. I trusted Rick and now I’m a sopping mess.”
“You’re not too bad,” I teased.
She flashed me a wobbly smile. “I’m trying. It’s just, I thought I loved him. I thought he might have been the one.”
“You’re only eighteen. You’ve got a while now before you find the one.”
Reid’s eyes filled with hope. “You think so?”
“I know so.” I gave her a hug and rose. “All right, it’s time for you to get some beauty sleep. See you in the morning.”
As I walked to my room, I couldn’t help but think that Reid was right. I needed to let go of some things—like the past. Roman deserved more, and I deserved more. There was something I needed to do first, though. Something that would set me free. Unfortunately, it would have to wait. I slipped under the covers and slept a dreamless sleep.
***
The next day I knocked on Milly’s door bright and early. “I hope you brought breakfast,” she said.
“I didn’t. I was hoping you’d have biscuits and coffee.”
“I’ve got coffee.”
“Great. We’re halfway there.”
I entered the house and eyed the corner where Polly Parrot and the stupid snake sat perched on a fake branch in its aquarium.
“So what’d you find out?”
“Norwood may or may not have transmuted into the body of a familiar when he died.”
Milly poured me a cup of coffee and magicked it over to me. “What else?”
“Please don’t kill me,” I said.
She snorted. “Great. Bad news. Can’t wait to hear what it is.”
“You have to promise first. No killing.”
She crossed her fingers over her heart. “Let her rip, toots.”
I grimaced. “Someone posed as an electrician and stole Reggie.”
Milly paused. “That’s bad.”
“I know! You trusted him with me and he’s gone. I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “We’ll get him back. One way or another.”
“You think?”
She nodded. “I know.”
I released a breath, relieved. “Whew. So. Why would someone steal it?”
Milly caned over to her flowery recliner and sat. “No telling. Maybe they wanted to erase something about themselves or wanted to track down another witch. He holds a lot of information—most of it useful, some of it worthless, but all of it interesting.”
“How would someone know where to find it?”
Milly tipped her head from side to side. “No clue. There’s the mystery, kid. Lucky for you, since I own Reggie, I know a spell that will get him back.”
I drummed my fingers on the couch arm. “What’s that?”
Milly smacked her lips. “A retrieval spell. Brings back something you’ve lost.”
“Great. Go ahead and do it.”
Milly laughed. “Uh-uh. Since you’re the one who lost him, you have to do it.”
I sighed. “Okay.”
Milly tightened knotted hands over the head of her cane. “Close your eyes and focus on Reggie.”
I saucered my cup and set it on a side table. I closed my eyes and settled back in the chair. “Okay.”
“Now, in your mind, call out to him. Make the call strong. Make it loud. Become a beacon, lighting the way from wherever Reggie is back to you.”
I concentrated all my power. Magic coiled in my belly. It felt like a whirlpool, swirling and twirling in my core. I focused hard. Pressure built behind my eyes and in my head until the coiling mass of magic ballooned outward, popping in a fizzle of power.
I blinked. Opened my eyes. I glanced around the room. “Well?”
>
Milly shrugged. “It might be in the laundry room.”
I rose. Shook my head. “Why would Reggie be there?”
Milly smiled. “Because next to the kitchen it’s the best smelling place in the house.”
“I’ll accept that one from you. You coming?”
She caned over to me. “I’ll do even better, toots. I’ll lead the way.”
I followed Milly to the closet-sized room. She sprang open the door. There, lying on the floor, was Reggie.
“Sweet! You totally called that one.” I knelt down and picked it up. Reggie felt light. Very light. Like it was missing half its pages light. “Something’s weird.”
I peeled back the cover and sank my forehead against the doorjamb.
“What’s wrong?” Milly asked.
I sat up and showed her the inside of Reggie.
“Well I’ll be,” she said.
Exactly. His pages had vanished.
***
Sera sat at the counter of Sinless Confections stirring a mocha. “So why did you need Reggie again?”
“We were trying to track down Professor Alias.”
“And now Reggie’s interior is gone.”
“Stolen,” I corrected her.
She shook up a can of homemade whip and added more to the top of her mug. “So someone ripped out its pages. Can it talk?”
I smirked. Glanced right and left to make sure no one was in the bakery and tugged it out of my shoulder bag, which I also liked to refer to as the bottomless pit.
“Hey, Reggie. How are you?”
The tome cleared that buttery voice. “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.”
Sera paused. “What was that?”
“The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain.”
“You don’t say,” she said.
I closed Reggie and put it away. “That’s all he says now.”
“Have you reported this problem to someone?”
“Who? He wasn’t supposed to leave Milly’s house. I asked her, but she said we’d get in more trouble by telling them what happened.”
Sera dipped her finger in the cream and popped the dollop in her mouth. “At some point people will need to find it.”