by Lauren Quick
Clover charged through the house and into the backyard, yelling at the top of her lungs for her aunties. “How could you do this to us?!”
Elsie’s head popped up in the garden. “She read the book.”
“Of course she did. Her mad fury is a dead giveaway,” Henrietta said and then hurried over to comfort Clover. “We hoped you’d find the book and that it would communicate in a way that only you would understand. You love books. It’s a special family heirloom. It’s a gift for you to keep.”
Elsie’s eyes welled with compassion. “We brought each of you girls a family heirloom as our way of communicating.”
Or you could use your voices to communicate like everyone else. A snarl pinched up Clover’s face before she could stop it. If she encountered another family heirloom anytime soon, she’d burn it to a crisp in her backyard fire pit. (Right after she had Derek build her a fire pit just for the occasion.)
Elsie continued, “The jacket was for Vivi and the book for you. Honora’s is still a surprise.”
“Why didn’t you just tell us it was Daddy’s jacket? Why did you play games with us?” Clover asked, gritting her teeth.
Henrietta put a gentle hand on Clover’s arm, but she pulled away. “Because you and your sisters needed to find out for yourselves and you must start asking the right questions about what’s going on around you. Times are changing. Danger is all around us,” she said. Her voice was a gravely whisper. “Not once have you asked us about your father.”
Clover opened her mouth and shut it. She was right. The subject of their father had been dead for a long time. It was too painful to talk about, so they avoided the topic.
“We were trying to help nudge you and your sisters along in your quest. That’s all,” Elsie said.
Clover swallowed. “You two are always trying to teach us lessons. Why did you do that to Vivi? You knew it would provoke something in her, didn’t you? You knew Daddy’s magic was strong and that it would prompt a vision.” She clenched her hands into fists, trying to remain calm.
Elsie’s clear eyes gleamed hard as diamonds. “Actually, we hoped the jacket would draw up something deep out of Vivi. That was the purpose and it worked. Whether you approve of our methods or not is no consequence to us. If we had told you three that the jacket belonged to Charles, then you would have focused on the past and gotten wrapped up in your feelings of loss and confusion and that wouldn’t have done any good. Vivi needed to see what she saw.”
Clover’s fists loosened. She knew the aunts meant well and they had their ways. Though still angry, she saw their point. “You should have told us. We aren’t kids anymore. We’re grown witches who can handle the truth.”
“Perhaps you’re right. But what’s done is done,” Henrietta said. “You’ll have to forgive us for not trusting you and your sisters with the truth, but it did work. We care so much about you three and we want to help you grow and understand your family—the good, the bad, the past, and the present.”
“That’s why you gave me the book.” Clover’s voice softened.
Elsie took Clover’s hands in hers. “We thought it would be perfect for you. You’ll understand in time. You have to trust us. Now, we’ve said all we’re going to say about it. We need to prepare for the party and to help your sister find the portal coin.”
Clover had momentarily forgotten about the coin. She was too busy thinking of her family and was too tired to argue. They were right. Events had been set in motion whether she liked it or not. The party was happening.
Clover turned to go inside but stopped dead in her tracks, for her boyfriend, Bradley, was standing on her back porch. His hair was damp with sweat and brushed back from his face. He wore jeans, a T-shirt, and work boots. Even in spring his muscular arms were already tanned from working in the sun.
He waved. “Sorry to drop by like this unexpected, but I couldn’t wait.” His face pinched with concern. “Are you okay, Clover? You look upset.”
Clover smoothed her hands over her skirt. “I’m fine. Come and meet my aunties.”
Bradley joined them in the yard. “Nice decorations. Looks like you’re getting ready for a party. I’d be happy to help.”
“Thanks. We’re okay.” Clover glanced at the aunties. “Aren’t we?”
“I think I might have come at a wrong time,” Bradley said, not convinced.
Henrietta took him by the arm. “Not at all. We can talk about this family drama later. Let’s sit and have a chat and get to know you.”
Elsie headed toward the tables that had been set up in the yard. “Oh good. Derek’s back with the food.”
“You three sit and chat. I’ll help Derek and bring out some iced tea.” Clover smiled half-heartedly.
They sipped iced tea and chatted for about an hour, mostly about embarrassing things Clover did in her youth and Bradley’s plans for his business. Bradley offered to bring some beer to the party, but the aunties wouldn’t hear of it. “Beer at a tea party. Never,” Elsie said, shaking her head. “Though I’m sure it’s delicious.”
“But we’ll take a rain check,” Henrietta said. “We could always use a good beer connection.”
Finally, the aunties went into the house and continued with party preparations.
Once they were gone, Bradley pulled Clover close to him and embraced her in a warm hug. Tension oozed from her shoulders as she relaxed into his strong arms. “I’m heading back to work, but not until you tell me what’s up.”
Clover sighed. A cloud of sadness and worry had descended over her now that she’d gotten over her initial anger at the aunties.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, stroking her hair.
“It’s about my dad.” She briefed him on what the aunties had done. “I was the oldest so I guess I knew him the longest. He left shortly after Honora was born. I was five years old. I only remember glimpses of him and our mother never gave us the real reason why he left.”
“What did she say?” Concern filled his eyes.
“Not much. Just that he had to leave. That he had no choice. She refused to go into details. As we got older, we realized that maybe he left her and it was too painful to talk about, so we just stopped asking.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. I know one thing and it’s that I’ve got to talk to my sisters.” They need to know about the jacket and it’s about time they talked about Charles Atticus.
14
Honora Mayhem sat behind her desk, drumming her fingers on the sleek surface. Tall glass, metal, and brick buildings shined outside of her office window in Stargazer City. Her business was booming in the highly competitive magical city. She forged her dream from the ground up, but that fact gnawed at her. She’d given a lot of thought to what the aunties had said last night about the Mayhem sisters needing to work together. They were right, and it was about time she put family first.
Honora should have recognized that Vivi needed more help when she’d asked her advice about the Darklander and his request. She’d wanted Vivi to drop it and stay away from him and anything associated with him, partly because she didn’t want Vivi to get tangled up with a dark wizard and partly because she didn’t want to get sucked into the drama. But she also knew the situation was complicated and ignoring a request from the Darklander was easier said than done. If she had been the one the Darklander approached, she probably would have launched a full-scale investigation into Devlin Strange. Consequences be damned.
That was exactly what her sister had done, and now she was in way over her head. It was Honora’s job as a supportive sister to do more than just watch Vivi’s back. She needed to dive in and help locate this mystery wizard, especially with the coin involved. Honora considered her options. Vivi’s visions were strong and mostly accurate. If there was going to be a showdown at Clover’s house, then she n
eeded to get involved. Their future was entwined with this strange wizard, and they had to figure out who he really was and what his endgame entailed.
That morning when Honora had gotten to work, she’d passed her current caseload over to Jenny and Sawyer. Her business partner had understood and even decided it would be fun to do surveillance. Fun? Try sitting with Sawyer for hours in the back of a hover van, monitoring a wizard whose idea of work was playing a magical game of cards against an illusionary opponent. But Honora kept her lips zipped. Jenny could find out how boring stakeouts were for herself.
With her work settled, Honora sent a note to meet with Harper, a friend and member of her flying club who worked at the council. If anyone could get the dirt on Kat Keene, it would be Harper. Honora slipped into a pale blue leather jacket and flying cap. With a flick of her wand and a quick spell, the window flew open and she stepped out onto the ledge. Barnaby, her barred owl familiar, hooted from his perch outside. He’d just returned from delivering the correspondence.
“Ready to do a little digging?” she asked him, but he gave her a glassy stare in return. “Well, I am. See you later.”
A crisp spring air washed over her as she dove off the ledge and arched her back, lifting high into the sky. She inhaled a sharp breath. Flying always cleared her head and sharpened her focus. Honora flew quickly to the witches’ route and glided in beside a multitude of flyers on her way to the other side of town. She’d arranged to meet Harper at the Sky Garden, one of the nicest green spaces in the city.
A group of industrious witches and wizards took it upon themselves to create a park-like setting on the rooftops of numerous skyscrapers, bringing lush green gardens up into the clouds. Bridges were built to connect the buildings. Walking paths meandered between the trees and grassy landscape. Honora’s boots touched down onto the soft grass. With a few steps along a pebbled pathway among flowery shrubs and container gardens, she could hardly tell she was on a building at all unless, of course, she peered over the ledge to the street below.
Honora found a nice quiet spot on a stone bench under a red-leafed maple tree. They planned to meet early to avoid the crowd that ascended on the Sky Garden at lunchtime. Moments later, Honora spotted her petite friend walking across a bridge before hurrying up a garden path toward her. She could have flown over, but Harper toned down her persuasion while at work to avoid any jealousy or favoritism. Flyers possessed a coveted magical ability and Harper wasn’t one to show off. Her hair was styled into a sleek wheat-colored bob. She strode confidently on a pair of four-inch heels and wore a slim black pencil skirt and white blouse.
Harper slid onto the bench beside Honora, her cheek pinched into a sly grin. “What’s up, Miss Private Eye? Got a juicy case you need my expert opinion on?”
“You know me too well and you know the council better than anyone.”
“Spill the details.” Harper shifted on the bench and crossed her legs.
Honora leaned in and lowered her voice. “I need the dirt on councilwoman Kat Keene. The dirtier, the better. The stuff only a behind-the-scenes witch like you would know.”
Harper’s smile wavered. “I have my wand on the pulse of magical council gossip, but Keene is another subject entirely.” Harper bit her bottom lip, shifted on the bench, and glanced behind them.
Honora followed her lead, more subtly, and scanned the area. “Who are you looking for?”
“I’m checking the crowd for nosy assistants working for council members. I don’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.”
Honora’s back straightened, her interest piqued. “I think we’re alone.”
Harper cleared her throat. “Kat Keene hasn’t been working for the council long but her sphere of influence is wide. She’s a little like a witch virus, spreading her nauseating control throughout every department. She has eyes and ears everywhere.”
“Sounds like an ambitious witch. I almost admire her,” Honora said, but Harper shot her a stare of disgust.
“Please, spare me. When I first met her, I too thought she was a total up-and-comer. A bold, driven witch who wasn’t afraid to work hard and put in the hours that a job as a council member demanded.” Her shoulders tensed.
“But you were wrong.”
“Was I ever. I tried to arrange a meeting with her for my boss to address issues on classifying and recording new and advanced magical techniques. The Academy of Advanced Magic sent a warning to the council about six months ago that advancements in magic were growing rapidly and they wanted the council to be aware.”
“Really? Sounds like a cool thing to look into. Kat wasn’t interested?”
Harper crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, she was interested. She was so interested that she snatched the idea right out from under us and formed her own committee to study advanced magic and appointed one of her lackeys to head it up. When my boss asked about participating on the committee, since it was her idea in the first place, Kat refused and told her to back off or else.” Harper’s lips twisted into a tiny snarl.
“Harsh. Kat’s ambition got the better of her. That’s too bad for you and your boss. It sounds like an interesting committee to be on, and I rarely find council business interesting.”
“Her ambition wasn’t the problem. It was the advanced magic. I think she’s trying to keep a tight lid on her findings for personal reasons.” Her brow arched.
“Why?” Honora asked. “What’s to gain by hiding her findings? She’d go much further by exposing her discoveries and building a platform for understanding new magic. Witches and wizards eat that kind of progress up.”
Harper sunk down on the bench, eyes staring straight ahead. “There are rumors floating around about her magical abilities.”
Harper wasn’t the paranoid type, so Honora started taking her worry more seriously, sensing for any magical energy in the area. “What’s her persuasion?”
“She’s gifted.”
“Wow. She’s just full of surprises. That’s really rare,” Honora said, biting the inside of her cheek. She’d only met one wizard who was gifted, but she pushed the thought aside, not wanting to think about him. She hadn’t seen her father for so long that he mostly lived in vague memories.
“But that’s not the half of it.” Harper lowered her voice. “Some are saying that she’s taken her gifted ways to the next level.”
Gifted was a term used for witches and wizards who had no tangible magical persuasion, meaning they were born without a magical ability, which could be seen as a horrible defect, since all witches and wizards were born with some kind of magic. But as a gifted grew it became apparent when they entered school that they learned magic extremely well, often very quickly. Magical theory, incantations, charms, potions, and spellcraft were second nature to them. Many gifted witches and wizards went on to teach at the academy and found a life in academia, writing papers and exploring advanced magical fields. But not all.
The air around Honora thrummed with energy. A group of witches, gossiping loudly spread a blanket on a patch of grass under a tree nearby. She tuned them out and focused on Harper. “Go on. I’m listening.”
“Word is spreading that Kat’s obsessed with advanced magic, learning everything she can to give herself a greater advantage. Honora, they’re saying she’s a conjurer.”
A conjurer was a witch or wizard who could summon powerful magic at will, channel it through her own body, and often store it in her own psyche. The majority of conjurers were gifted, and lacking a true persuasion, they used magical techniques to compensate. But by the time many of them advanced far enough magically, they had crumbled under the pressure of having too much magical knowledge and turned twisted and dark. Too much power corrupted the natural order.
“Gifted and a conjurer. I hate to say it but I’m not surprised. Some gifted just don’t know how to stop themselve
s and want more and more power. Obsession with anything, including magic, has its price.” A shadow from a flyer sailed above them, catching Honora’s attention, and a striking witch wearing a red scarf touched down a few yards away.
“Conjurers are dangerous. And to have one on the council is out of the question. If the council knew, she would be under close scrutiny.” Harper’s jaw tensed. “But they’re so enamored with her they refuse to see her for what she really is.”
“No wonder she wants to head the council. She can control what information the council has on advanced magic, even her own.” Honora sighed. “That’s a lot of dirt.”
Harper had a good reason to worry. It was no surprise that Kat had eyes and ears everywhere. She had a lot to hide. “You shouldn’t breathe a word of this to anyone,” Honora said, her senses tingling. Who was paranoid now?
“Trust me. I don’t plan on it. I try and stay far away from Kat Keene at all times. You never told me why you wanted to know about her.”
“Let’s just say she’s involved with a mutual acquaintance.” Anxiety twisted in Honora’s stomach. Something felt wrong. “I should get going. I’m sure you need to get back to work. Thanks for your help, Harper.”
“No problem. Be careful. Will I see you for the weekly meet up?” she asked, her face brightening.
“I wouldn’t miss it.” Honora stood.
They began walking past the gaggle of cackling witches. Immediately Honora knew someone was watching them. Loud and annoying were not uncommon traits in a group of witches out for a good yak session, but the group was also a great distraction. A flash of scarlet caught Honora’s attention. The witch wearing the red scarf and fitted black pantsuit strode on a path parallel to them, and not so subtly, checked her short black hair and bright red lipstick in a compact mirror.