by Cate Martin
My only chance was Miss Zenobia's office. It was stuffed with strange objects. There had to be something in there that would even the odds.
Chapter 21
I ran into Miss Zenobia's office and slammed the door shut. Then I shut the locks and bolts, one after the other. There were more locks on that door than on a New York apartment.
I tried not to dwell on why that might be. The locks were on this side, so this was the safe side. That thought gave me enough comfort.
After I slid the last bolt home I spun around to take inventory of the room around me. Fire poker, that was a mundane start. I grasped it in my hand then got back to my frantic search.
The truth was, lots of things looked like weapons. There was a glass ball on the mantlepiece that appeared to be filled with small golden disks with razor-sharp edges. Less a fortune teller's crystal ball than a really pretty shrapnel grenade. And as I looked those disks were moving around inside the ball, anxious to get out and start bouncing around the room. I'd be cut up as well as the other two, and I was already bleeding all over from the china cabinet explosion.
So that would be a last resort.
I turned my attention to the desk as the first energy bolt hit the door like a crackling battering ram. The hinges shrieked in protest.
It wasn't going to matter how many locks there were if Brianna just blew a hole in the entire wall.
And who was going to pay for the damages? We were housemates now. We had to have a house meeting and come up with a written agreement on such things, clearly.
Yeah, so that was the second bubble of hysterical laughter I had to swallow back down. But I was way out of my element. Hysteria was all I had left.
I looked down at the floor next to the desk. There was a wire basket next to the desk. A waste paper basket, and yet the paper inside the basket didn't look like it was waste. It was lovely, glossy and multicolored, and it looked like it had all been carefully folded before being dropped in the basket.
Not wadded up, folded. Like origami.
The second bolt hit the door, hard enough to make the whole house shudder. There was a moment of silence, then the door gave a creaking groan and fell flat on the floor like a drunk passing out at a party.
"Come on, you guys," I said, keeping the poker tucked behind me and backing up until I felt the top of the basket pressed against my calf. "What's going on here? This is crazy."
Brianna didn't say anything, just stepped over the smoking wood of the door to stand by the fireplace. Sophie came in behind her, stepping to the other side of the room.
"If you want me to leave I'll just go," I said. "I don't want to be here. It's totally understandable that you don't want me here. You don't have to kill me!"
Brianna had been raising her wand again. I saw her hesitate for just a moment, but Sophie raised her chin and Brianna stiffened both her body and her resolve. Her other hand stretched out to me, those three fingers pointing to the center of my chest. Perhaps that was how she took aim. I didn't know a thing about magic.
I raised the fire poker like a sword, and while she was looking at the end of that, I reached back and grasped the basket. Then I fell back on one knee and tossed the contents of the basket high into the sky.
The little bits of paper screeched. Even before they stretched out their crumpled wings and took to the air, they screeched.
But in a moment they were everywhere, flapping in a glittering array of colors, swarming like rabid butterflies over Sophie and Brianna.
Brianna cried out and threw her arms over her head. I would swear the little paper cranes were pecking at her with the small folds of paper that were their beaks.
Sophie spun in a circle, bringing that hurricane force wind in a tight cyclone around her. The cranes were caught up in it, but so was what appeared to be a decorative bowl full of acorns. It was only when the acorns started to explode like the flak bursts from an antiaircraft gun that I realized they were, of course, not merely decorative.
I knew I couldn't hide in Miss Zenobia's office. It wasn't big enough, and when Brianna's attempt at using her wand to rid herself of the paper birds set the rug in the corner on fire, it certainly wasn't safe. I jumped over the length of the door, landing in the hallway then running back down the hall.
"The door!" Sophie yelled.
"Hold on!" Brianna shrieked, then that shriek ratcheted up to one of pain.
I abandoned my dash for the back door, diving into the library instead. I ran to the back of the room, furthest from the windows, and dove under a table. Not the large table that Brianna spent all of her time at, but a smaller one tucked away in what I could only hope was a forgotten corner.
I put my hands over my mouth and tried to slow my breathing.
It took a long time. Not only was I terrified, I was beginning to realize I wasn't in the best of shape. I had missed too many workouts since high school.
Actually, I couldn't remember the last time I'd made it to the gym. Working on my feet all day in the diner was so draining. I was regretting letting that get to me now.
But it was too late. I could hear footsteps. Brianna's were the louder ones coming from the front of the library, and she was breathing nearly as hard as I.
But I also heard Sophie's softer steps coming from the back door to the library. Her breathing was light and controlled.
I put a knuckle in my mouth and bit down hard, keeping my breath as quiet as possible.
But really, it had always just been a matter of time. Sophie's feet stopped at the end of my row. I tucked into a tighter ball and held my breath. Then Brianna's feet joined hers.
I waited for them to start walking towards me, but the feet stayed where they were for a long time. I wondered if they were mouthing words to each other and communicating in some special to witches kind of way.
Then there was a swish, a sound I was getting all too familiar with: Brianna's wand through the air as she raised it high. I could imagine those three fingers of her other hand pointing to where I hid under the table.
Then the table was gone, lifted up into the air. It sailed between Sophie and Brianna to land with a crash behind them.
I only had one thought left in my head. Just one, but every fiber of my being wanted to hear it answered.
"Why?" I shrieked.
I wanted an answer, but I didn't really expect to get one. I wrapped my arms around my head like they taught us in grade school for tornado drills.
The Schneidermans were going to wonder what happened when I never came back.
Just the two of them, that was pretty much it. Perhaps a regular or two might be curious. But no one was really going to miss me.
"I was really hoping this would work," Brianna said, sounding confused.
"It was worth a shot," Sophie said. "But clearly, yeah, it didn't work."
I pulled my arms down enough to peer past my elbow to the two of them standing at the end of the row. Brianna's wand was nowhere in sight, and she looked deeply distressed. Like she'd just flunked in math class.
"What didn't work?" I asked, still not ready to untuck my body. This could be a trick.
"Magical gifts have been known to manifest under stress," Sophie said.
"Did yours?" I shot back. I felt a teensy bit bad when she flinched, then reminded myself that she had just tried to kill me. Or make me think she wanted to kill me. Same difference.
"No," she admitted. "My mother spent years working on my sensing of magic, and the hiding thing I worked out on my own. The wind thing I did by mistake at a dance recital once when I got all caught up in the emotion. That was an interesting night."
"My mentors taught me a lot of little things first," Brianna said. "Making knots untie and spoiling milk and things like that."
"And that energy bolt thing?" I asked.
"It's the only offensive thing I know," she said. "I read it in a book and worked out how to do it. Mostly I stick to smaller spells. The kind that encourage people not to notice me."
"And why couldn't I start with the sensing or the small stuff?" I asked.
Now they both looked miserable, but I wasn't going to let my glare up until one of them answered.
"I…" Brianna started, then glanced over at Sophie. "We felt like maybe a faster course was required."
"Because of the calling to guard the portal," I said.
"Not just that it was necessary," Sophie said, risking taking a step closer to me. "We felt like, because you're so much older than we were when we started, that a faster path would be easier. Better. Something you could do."
"Well," I said, getting to my feet and brushing myself off. How did the floor of a library get so dirty? "You were right. It didn't work."
"We're really sorry," Brianna said. "We won't try it again."
"Or throwing me in the river, or whatever other ridiculous things are in these books?" I persisted.
"That wouldn't be in these books," Brianna said. "These are proper magic books, not anti-witch propoganda.”
"We won't," Sophie promised.
"Okay," I said. "Just to be clear. I'm open to any kind of test or lesson or whatever. I'd love to be able to access the power you two have, and if Miss Zenobia thought I had it too, it's worth following up on, right? But we're going to talk about it first. What you want to do and what it entails. No more surprises. No more ambushes."
"No more," Sophie agreed, then rubbed at her tailbone. "I don't think I could even do it again."
"Sorry," I said. "You did trigger a fight or flight response in me. Just not the fight you were looking for."
"We'll find it," Brianna said. "I know we will."
I nodded then brushed past them to go back down to the kitchen, clean up the spilled grounds, and start the process of making coffee all over again.
Just as I was passing between them, they both looked at me. Just darting glances, but it was enough. Despite their words of encouragement to me and to each other, they were both disappointed that I hadn't manifested my power.
If that panic and terror hadn't triggered it, what would?
Oh, how I really didn't want to know.
Chapter 22
Brianna might focus on spells to help people ignore her, but she knew a few others as well. By the time I had the coffeemaker all sorted and was leaning back against the opposite counter to watch the drops fall into the carafe she had cleaned up every bit of damage. The china, intact once more without so much as a seam to show where it had broken, was stacked neatly in the cabinet. The chairs in the dining room and library were all in their proper positions, as was the table.
I'm not sure if she could fix what happened in Miss Zenobia's office, but she got the door back up into the frame, and everything looked normal.
Sophie joined me at the counter, watching the coffee drip. Then Brianna came to lean on the other side of me. None of us said a word. I think we were all really tired.
It had been an exhausting day, and it wasn't quite seven.
Something rapped loudly, and I jumped, spinning around to see Nick tapping at the kitchen window. His eyes widened at my reaction, and he mouthed that he was sorry, then pointed around to the back of the house.
"I hope he has some news," Sophie said as I went to open the back door to let him in. I hoped so too. More information on the murder weapon would be nice.
"Good morning," Nick said when I had opened the door. He stepped carefully over the police tape and climbed up onto the porch. "I was just walking the dog when I got a call from Nelson, and I told him I'd bring you all up to date. Is Mr. Trevor in?"
We all looked at each other. We weren't sure where he was when he was inside the house, let alone when he was outside.
Nick waved off the question as unimportant before any of us had even worked up an answer. "No worries. Nelson asked you all to stay in town until you were cleared, and that's happened now. I know it's Monday morning and you were all only here for the weekend, so I thought I'd come over to see if you were up so I could let you know. Early risers like me, I see."
"Actually, we'll be staying longer," I said.
"Oh, yeah?"
"The three of us inherited the school, so we'll be living here," I told him. "Coffee?"
"Yeah, coffee would be great," Nick said. "Black is fine." There was a smile that really wanted to erupt across his face, but he kept wrestling it back down.
Sophie had already poured out three cups of coffee. She pushed two of them towards me then turned to get another mug for herself. I put a dollop of butter in mine then handed the other to Nick.
"Thanks," he said. "Wow. That's good. What kind is it?"
"I actually have no idea," I said. "Mr. Trevor buys it, and it's in an unmarked canister. I'll ask him the next time I see him."
"He must get it local," Sophie added.
"Did Nelson tell you anything else that you can share?" I asked. "They know for sure she wasn't killed here?"
"Yes, that's clear from the crime scene," he said. "And you can pull that tape down if you want. They aren't going to need to look at it again."
"Good to know. Thanks." It would make getting to the backyard while dressed for the 1920s easier if we could just use the back door.
"The bad news is that it's very unlikely they'll be able to solve the case," Nick said gravely.
"Because this wasn't the scene of the crime," I guessed.
"Right. No suspects, no sign of a murder weapon. Unless someone stumbles upon the primary crime scene, or unless - heaven forbid this was a random thing, and the killer strikes again, they just don't have enough to go on. And with their caseload, they can't spend hours following up unlikely leads."
"It's a shame, but we understand," Sophie said.
"I wish we could do more," Nick said.
"We?" I said, teasing. His cheeks flushed, and he bent his head to take another sip of coffee. "Well, you'll be police soon enough. I shouldn't make fun."
"But you're right, though. I'm still a lot of steps away," he said.
"They didn't find the murder weapon," Brianna said.
"No, they did not," Nick confirmed. "Blunt force trauma, they know that much."
"Like a rock?" I asked.
"No, not like a rock," Nick said. "Narrower and longer. But short, not like a baseball bat. And probably heavy. It only took one blow."
"Heavy, or the murderer was strong," Sophie said, and I could see the gears of her brain turning. Mine were turning too.
"Er, yes," Nick said, flustered. Perhaps he thought we were unnecessarily morbid. Then he swallowed the last of his coffee. "I hate to run, but I do have to go. Classes start today."
"You should have said so," I said, walking with him to the back door. "We wouldn't have detained you if we knew."
"You didn't detain me. I had plenty of time," he said. I saw Sophie and Brianna exchange a smiling glance but ignored it as we passed into the solarium and I held the door for him.
"I'm glad you're not leaving," he said.
"Me too," I said, surprised to find that it was true.
"Even better, I'll be your next door neighbor now," he said.
"Really?" I asked. For some reason, a vision of Linda Olson flew through my mind. She would be a tough one to live with.
"Yeah," Nick said. "I've been bunking with some friends from high school who live over a bar downtown, and that's been fun, but my grandfather needs more help than I can give him from that distance, so I'm moving in with him."
"Cool," I said.
"Yeah?" he asked, his eyes searching my face, for what I wasn't sure.
"Yeah, very cool," I said. "Stop over for coffee anytime. We always have tons."
"I will," he said. He lingered for a moment, but just before it got really awkward, he stepped back out onto the porch. He bent to catch the end of the police tape and followed the length of it, bunching it up into a big yellow ball. He ended at the corner of the house and raised the sticky wad in one last salute before disappearing into the side yard.
"Someone's made a friend already," Sophie said as I came back into the kitchen.
"We're all friends," I said, heading to the coffee machine for a refill. I wasn't going to make it through the day without a lot more caffeine.
"Well, there's friends, and then there's friends," Sophie said, kicking her accent up to full Creole. Brianna just grinned at me, and I felt my cheeks heating.
"What he said about the murder weapon," I said hurriedly and slid into my chair at the table.
That sobered them up at once.
"Long, narrow, heavy," Sophie agreed. "Like that shillelagh."
"Are we suspecting Otto?" Brianna asked.
"You don't think he seems prone to violence?" Sophie asked.
"Well," Brianna said, twisting her hands together.
"I think I know what Brianna means," I said. "Otto has definitely cracked some skulls with that club before. But only in, like, gang fights. Turf wars, teaching his own underlings a lesson maybe. But not old women. Not Cynthia."
"So he's a thief with a code," Sophie said skeptically.
"Thief, bootlegger, goodness knows what else," I said. "But yes. I think he has a code."
"I'm not so sure," Sophie said, eyes narrowing as she assessed me. "I think you think so because he's Edward's friend, and you're taken with Edward."
I nearly choked on my coffee. "Taken with Edward?"
"I thought so too," Brianna said.
"Weren't you just implying that about Nick?" I asked.
"Yeah, we totally were," Sophie said, and an evil grin played across her lips.
"Anyway," I said, trying to get back on topic. "I have another reason for doubting it's Otto."
"A real one?" Sophie teased.
"Fear," I said. "You saw how he changed when he knew we were part of the charm school. Everyone knew Cynthia worked for Miss Zenobia. Edward said no one in 1927 would touch us, and based on how Otto reacted I think that's true."
"I do too," Sophie conceded. "So our suspect either didn't know Cynthia was part of the school-"
"Which seems unlikely since she was murdered in the backyard there," I interrupted.