by Amy Boyles
I did a double take. “You mean you know that it’s a familiar?”
She caned over to her recliner. “Of course. Why else would it just appear looking for a home?”
“And you didn’t tell anyone?”
Milly tipped her head from side to side. “Excuse me but even a witch in preschool would know what that thing is. It’s obvious.”
“It’s not to me.”
“Well, you’re not in preschool,” she snapped.
Roman scrubbed a hand over his face. “We need to know if it’s Norwood.”
“So what are you going to do? Take a match to its belly?” Milly said.
Roman paused. He looked around the room. He spotted Polly and opened his cage. “No. I’m going to let these two fight it out.”
“Isn’t that animal cruelty?” I said.
He wrapped his hands around Polly. “The bird’s made of wood. And I’m not going to let anything happen to the snake. We need him healthy, remember?”
Milly crossed her arms. “Those two are friends now. It’s not going to work.”
Roman smiled. “It’ll work if you help me.”
Milly smirked. “All right. What do you want Polly to do?”
Roman told Milly. Milly instructed Polly. Polly Parrot flew from his cage and dive-bombed the snake. Polly didn’t actually touch the snake, he came just a hair’s breadth away from it. He flew back up to his cage and swooped down again.
The snake opened one eye, then the other. It saw Polly fluttering down, watched for a moment and then went back to closing its eyes.
“It’s not working,” I said.
“You got that right, toots,” Milly agreed.
“Any other ideas?” I asked Roman.
He scratched his head. “Nothing that doesn’t involve PETA having me arrested.”
“We don’t even know if it’s Norwood,” I said. “It could be anybody.”
Roman rested his chin in his palm. After several seconds, he snapped his fingers. He dug the marble from his pocket. “This might perk him up.”
Roman waved it in front of the snake’s face. The snake once again opened one eye. Then it opened the other. It raised its head, its body slowly uncoiling. Its tongue flickered toward the marble.
Its mouth opened.
I blinked. The snake held its mouth open.
“What do you think it wants?” I said.
“I think I’m supposed to put the marble in there,” Roman answered.
“In its mouth?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Milly said. “If this is Norwood, that may be the way to crack the encoding—the snake may have to use its saliva somehow.”
I quirked a brow. “Its saliva?”
“You got a better theory, toots?”
I shrugged. “Nope.” I glanced at Roman.” Well, then, what are you waiting for?”
Roman palmed the marble hesitantly. He looked at me, then Milly, and back to the snake.
“Here goes nothing.” He tossed the balding stone into the snake’s mouth.
Its jaws snapped shut.
NINETEEN
I watched. I waited. Nothing.
“Um. What’s supposed to happen now?” I whispered to Roman.
“Not sure.”
“How long should we wait?”
“Don’t know.”
We stared at the snake for five minutes. Still nothing.
Milly slapped her knees. “Well, looks like he’ll have to poop it out for you to get that stone back. I’m not going to sit here that long. I’m going to make some lunch.”
“Okay,” I said. “I need to get back home. I’ve got some work to do for the store.”
Roman sighed. “I hope I didn’t destroy that marble.”
I rubbed his shoulder. “It’s not like it matters. We couldn’t get it to work anyway.”
“Good point.”
I was on my way out the door, in fact had it opened, when I bumped headfirst into Reid.
“Ouch!” I rubbed the knot forming in my hair. “Watch where you’re going.”
“Same here,” she grumbled.
I noticed she had Reggie. “Why do you have that?”
She blinked a couple of times. “I almost forgot with the brain damage you just gave me.”
I scoffed. “Very funny. What is it?”
Reid cleared her throat quite prim and proper and said, “It’s talking.”
I stepped back. “Seriously?”
She grinned, plumped her burgundy curls and fist pumped the air. “Yeah, and you won’t believe what it has to say.”
I hauled Reid inside. “Reggie’s talking.”
“Great,” Milly said. “Put it on the table.”
Reid laid it down. “Okay, Reggie, tell them what you told me.”
The book cleared its throat. “I have been assaulted, Just Dylan.”
I nodded. “I know that. I’m sorry. Do you know who did it?”
Reggie gave a heavy sigh. “No. They wore a hood. They yanked out my pages one by one. It was horrible. Terrible!”
I waited while the book had its moment, and then said, “Do you know why they did it?”
Reggie whimpered for a second as if it needed time to pull itself together. Finally it said, “I believe it was to stop me from helping you any more in your investigation.”
Roman tapped two fingers on the table. “I’m sorry this happened to you, Reg. I’ll do my best to return your pages to you. Thank you for your help. You’ve been invaluable.”
Roman headed for the door. I followed.
The air behind me cracked and fizzled. As I turned around, a gray cloud appeared. A moment later it dissolved, fizzling into swirling cinnamon and crimson curls. Em. Great. Just who I wanted to see. The one witch who never, and I mean ever, made my life easier.
“Roman, I’ve been lookin’ all over for you.”
Roman nodded. “You’ve found me.”
Em’s green eyes slewed across the room. “Is this all the people who are here? There’s no one else?”
“This is it,” Roman said. “What’s going on?”
Em bit her bottom lip. Oh crap. Whatever she had to say, it was bad. My heart fluttered up into my throat.
She rubbed her forehead. “It’s your father, Roman. He’s missing.”
***
I accompanied Roman to Castle Witch. Milly wanted to pick Reggie’s brain, and Reid asked if she could go to Perfect Fit and do some cleaning to make extra money. Who was I to say no to that?
We found Em inside the castle. “What happened?” Roman said.
Em smiled when she saw us, but it quickly faded. “I went to see Boo about an hour ago. He didn’t answer, so I let myself in, to make sure everythin’ was okay.” A sob got caught in her throat. “Roman, the place was a mess. Things were destroyed. Like a bulldozer had come in. I called my guards, had them search the grounds, the castle—everywhere—but we cain’t find him.”
Em lowered her face. When she glanced back up, tears bubbled in her eyes. She clutched his arm. “Roman, I cain’t apologize enough for this.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I may know where he is.”
Em stumbled back. “You do?”
He sighed. “Maybe.” Roman looked at me. He started to walk off.
“Do you want me to come?” I asked.
He stopped. Roman squared his shoulders and looked at the ground. When he spoke, his voice was tender. “I need you to.”
A shiver zinged down my spine. I nodded to Em and crossed to Roman. “Let’s go.”
We strode up the staircase, down one winding hall and up another set of stairs until we reached a long wall. Roman stopped, raised his hand as if to knock. He paused.
He tipped his head down toward me. “Behind this lies a wing of the castle that was closed off years ago.”
I arched a brow. “What?”
His jaw twitched. “It’s where my mother and sisters were murdered. I have access to it, and so does my father.”<
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“How likely is it that he’s here?”
He shrugged. “It’s not. But it’s better than the alternative.”
I swallowed. He was right. Boo being kidnapped was worse than him ghosting the halls where his family was murdered.
“Okay. Fingers crossed,” I said.
Roman raised a hand and faced it palm down to the wall. He ran it over a portion of the plaster until he reached what I could only assume was the right spot. Then he made a fist and knocked.
The wall that was plaster and stone vanished. It didn’t shimmer. It didn’t fade. It simply disappeared as quickly and easily as I breathed.
Another chamber greeted us. It was similar to a foyer, and painted in pink roses and winding vines. A hallway opened up behind it. One side held a wall of windows that tattooed the floor with light, while doors lined the other side.
“Would he be in one of the rooms?” I asked.
Roman nodded. He led me past the room to the third door on the right. He stopped. I placed what I hoped was a reassuring hand on his arm and gave a gentle squeeze. He flashed me a grim smile, turned the knob and opened the door.
A dark cherry four-poster bed graced the room, as well as a makeup table with mirror, a wardrobe and other basic bedroom furnishings. Dim light peeked through the drawn curtains. At first I didn’t see the shadow on the bed as anything more than a trick of illumination. But it wasn’t a trick. It was a man.
Boo sat hunched on the mattress, his hands to his face, his shoulders slouched. I stayed back and let Roman cross to him. He laid a hand on his father’s shoulder. Boo didn’t react. He didn’t seem surprised that Roman was there. He simply covered his son’s hand with his own and said, “Sometimes the pain is too much. It gets to me.”
“It gets to me, too,” Roman said.
I retreated back into the foyer to give them privacy. I glanced around and noticed a tapestry covering a wall. My gaze scrolled over the colored wool. An orb in one of the images caught my eye. It was small, resembling a marble. A man held the stone. In the next image, he put it in his mouth. In the final image, the man saw the pictures of whatever the stone held.
I staggered back just as Roman led his father from the room. Boo placed his cowboy hat on his head and said, “I apologize for worrying you and my son.”
I smiled widely. “You’re no worry, Boo. We’re just glad you’re okay.”
Boo pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his nose. “I suppose so. I’ll be all right.” He tucked the fabric back in place and said, “Now, I know the both of you have better things to do than spend time fooling with me.”
We walked slowly back to the cottage. Roman helped Boo clean up while I busied myself with the small village shops and talking to the people. Roman found me an hour or so later, and we walked back toward the castle.
“How’s your father?”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “He’s okay.”
“He about destroyed the cottage.”
“He lost it, apparently. Said the weight of everything crashed down on him all at once. He broke some stuff and then went to find the old section of the castle.”
I nodded. “Is he okay now?”
“He’s better, but I don’t think he’ll ever be okay.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry, Roman.”
He pulled his glasses from his duster pocket and slid them over his green eyes. “That’s how these things go, darlin’,” he said. “You gotta take it one day at a time.”
I paused, unsure how to bring up what I’d discovered on the tapestry, until I realized I just needed to go ahead and say it.
“It’s not a balding stone.”
Roman tipped his head toward me. “What?”
“Norwood’s marble. It’s not a balding stone. At least, not one that needs the balding device.”
“I’m not following.”
“I saw a tapestry up in the castle with a picture of a man holding a stone that looked exactly like Norwood’s. The man didn’t use a device to read it, however. Instead he placed the stone in his mouth.”
“Like the snake did,” Roman said, realization seeming to hit him.
“Exactly. I don’t know if that snake is Norwood or not, but putting the stone in its mouth is exactly what we should have done. Not the snake.” I swallowed. “I hope. I mean, the thing did release toxic gas when we fooled with it magically. Hopefully it won’t do that if I put it in my mouth.”
“Darlin’, you won’t be the one putting it in your mouth. I’ll be doing that.”
We reached the spot outside the castle where we had arrived. Em stood waiting for us. I have no clue how she knew when we’d show up, but she was there and for that, I was grateful.
“I’m so glad you found him,” Em said. “If he’d really been missin’—well, I don’t know what I’d have done.”
“You mean like a kidnapping,” I said.
“Yeah. You don’t want to see this witch mad,” Em joked. But she wasn’t really joking. I did not, in fact, want to see Em mad. Dealing with Em in her regular surly state was enough, thank you very much.
“Y’all ready to go back?”
“More than,” Roman said darkly.
Sadness spiked in my core. It couldn’t have been easy for Roman to rescue his father from the demons of the past. My heart broke for him.
He took my hand, and Em whisked us back to Silver Springs, planting us on my front porch. I glanced around to make sure no one was outside, watching. I didn’t need to explain to any regular people why I had appeared out of nowhere.
The smell of baked goodness filtered up my nose. My stomach growled like a tiger on the prowl.
“Something smells good,” Roman said.
“Yeah, I’m hungry.”
We stepped inside. I gaped at the sight. Boxes of confections—cakes of all flavors, cinnamon rolls, fruit scones, spinach and cheese quiches, apple and blueberry pies, pear and lemon tarts, chocolate chip muffins, cream cheese filled cupcakes—everything and anything you could possibly dream of and imagine filled every nook and cranny in the living room.
Some were on plates, others in boxes, but all in all, my entire house looked like a bakery had exploded from the inside out.
Just when I was hoping Sera was getting this whole baking thing under control.
“Um, what’s going on?” I asked hesitantly.
Grandma barged into the living room. She grasped her hair as if she were about to pull it out. “Dylan, thank goodness you’re here. Your sister’s gone mad.”
“So I see,” I said.
“It’s not a joke. She says she needs to bake enough to feed the world.”
I glanced at Roman. He shook his head.
Grandma crossed over and grabbed my elbow. “You have to stop her. She’s about to make another batch of cookies! We’ll be buried alive!”
I groaned. And just when things were almost getting back to normal.
TWENTY
I tiptoed toward the kitchen, leaving Roman and Grandma behind.
I peeked into the doorway to find my sister orchestrating a symphony of baked goods in different stages of development. To her left, eggs were cracking into a bowl. On her right, a mixer was beating batter into submission. Above her head, finished batter poured itself into cupcake tins.
“You feeding the world’s hungry, or what?” I said.
Sera turned to me. “Dylan, isn’t it amazing? I never knew I could bake so much so fast.”
“Yes, it’s certainly something.”
Like insane.
“Sera, you’ve used your magic to bake before. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said cheerfully. She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Just getting ahead.”
“What happened?”
She motioned to a spoon. It plopped into the bowl of eggs and began stirring. “Oh yeah, well. The bakery’s closed today. I needed a way to channel all this extra energy.”
I gestured to
the stacks of goods crammed into every corner of the room. “You’re going to run out of boxes before you run out of dessert.”
She laughed uncomfortably. “Ha-ha. Yeah. That’s okay. I don’t need boxes.”
The inanimate objects kept right on animating as Sera smiled at me. It was the quirkiest, wackiest expression I’d ever seen on her face. I mean, Sera always has it together, and when I say it, I mean everything. Yes, she’s that sister. The one who has her life, as well as everyone else’s, sewn up and glued straight.
That’s not actually a saying, but it sounds good.
“Sera, who are you planning on selling all this to?”
Sera’s eye twitched. “It’s going into my online business.”
“You don’t have an online business.”
“I’m getting one as we speak. Tomorrow morning I’m starting a whole new project.” She splayed her hand out to demonstrate. “Sinless Confections Online.”
I took a deep breath. I had no idea what to say, how to stop this. The eggs kept right on cracking, the mixer right on whirling, and the oven continued baking. I nibbled the fingers on my right hand, trying to think of a way to talk my sister out of this.
Right as I was thinking I’d have to grab a shovel and start digging my house out from under a sea of cupcakes, the back door squeaked open. Brock Odom, Monkey King, filled the frame. His dark hair hung loose over his shoulders, and his motorcycle jacket was zipped tight against his chest.
“Hey, ladies, what’s going on?” He stepped up to Sera, totally ignoring the stacks of cakes threatening to topple over, and planted a kiss on her cheek. She turned and gave him a hug. He steered my sister so her back was to me. He gave me a smile and a wink.
“All this looks delicious. You been baking?” he said in that silky Matthew McConaughey voice of his.
“A little,” she said.
Brock released her from his hold and took a bite of a cinnamon roll. “Whew wee! That is one tasty treat. You got plans for all these? ’Cause if you don’t, I know a whole army of winged monkey soldiers who’d love to get their hands on them.”
Sera’s gaze washed over the truckload of food stuffed into the kitchen and said, “Okay. That sounds good.”