Queen Witch (Bless Your Witch Book 3)

by Amy Boyles

  He opened and shut his mouth.

  "Better!" he squawked.

  Wait. What?

  "Dylan, what the heckabaloo are you doing here?"

  My neck snapped in the direction of the door. There stood Sera. Dark half-moons cupped the bottoms of her eyes.

  "I'm on vacation," I said.

  "Did you sleep down here?"

  "Sort of. Yeah. It wasn't comfortable, but I did."

  She gripped the bars and pulled her face to the window. "Why?"

  "To stay out of all the drama going on upstairs."

  She smirked. "The only one creating drama is you by trying to break out and then locking yourself up in the dungeon, which is full of rats, from what I hear."

  I crossed my arms. "I haven't seen one, and you don't have to stay. You can go upstairs and hang out with the grandmas and all the other crazy witches in this place."

  She rocked back. "Dylan, you haven't even given this place a chance."

  I flicked a bit of dirt from the edge of one of my nails. "Yes, I did. I totally gave it a chance. I gave it a big fat chance called Gertrude, but she ended up getting herself murdered. Then some idiot made me queen, something I don't even know how to do."

  Sera blew a strand of hair out of her blue eyes. "Because you haven't asked."

  "Not interested."

  "Then don't blame me when you get eaten by one of the giant rats in here. They're supposed to be enormous."

  "Very funny. They're not huge and I haven't seen one."

  She clicked her tongue. "Ooookaaaayyy."

  I crossed my arms. "You're not scaring me."

  The air cracked and popped in the dungeon. Crap. Someone was looking for me. I glanced around the cell, trying to find something to hide behind, but unfortunately I hadn't asked Roman to deck out my digs like a four-star hotel room.

  Grandma's head materialized out of thin air. "Dylan! Dylan, where are you? It's very dark in here."

  I cupped my face in my hands. "I'm in the dungeon, Grandma."

  "Whatever are you doing in there? That's a terrible place filled with giant rats."

  "So I hear. What's up?"

  She pursed her lips. "Oh. Well. Let me see. You may want to come up."

  "Why's that?"

  Grandma glanced around, real wide-eyed. "Oh, I don't know. You just might want to."

  I sucked in my cheeks. "That's not a good reason."

  Suddenly Grandma was gone and in her place hovered Em's bodiless head. Those cinnamon and crimson curls swirled around her face. Her little button nose was turned up, and her lips were pulled back into a snarl.

  "Listen here, Queen Witch. You need to get your heinie out of whatever hole you're hiding in and get it upstairs right now."

  I scoffed. "Is that supposed to scare me? A threat by the ousted queen?"

  Em's cheeks flamed. "You'll be more than scared if you don't come to the Great Hall right now and start being what you are."

  I nibbled a hangnail and spit it onto the floor. "And why's that?"

  Em's head lunged forward, growing to nearly half the size of the room. "Because Queen Witch of the North is here and she's royally PO'd."

  I shrugged. "What's that got to do with me?"

  Em's nostrils flared. "Because she's Gertrude's cousin and she's asking for heads to roll." Em fixed a hard stare on me. "Starting with yours."

  FIFTEEN

  We rushed through the halls. Polly Parrot clung like death—or life, or whatever—to my shoulder. "Where are they?" I asked Sera.

  She nodded forward. "They're right in there."

  I threw her a curious glance. "You've sure learned your way around the castle fast."

  Her mouth split into a secret smile. "Brock gave me a tour."

  My ears pricked up at that. "Oh, did he?"

  "Yeah, you'd know that if you weren't so occupied with all the crazy nonsense you're worried about."

  I stopped. Tried to wrap my head around the sentence. "What does that even mean?"

  Sera hooked a hand over my elbow and dragged me on. She shook her head. "Let's just go."

  "I'm not the one talking nonsense."

  My sister ignored me. We marched into the Great Hall, where it looked like every queen's counselor as well as Jonathan Pearbottom, Roman, Brock with his entourage, Em and my entire family were in attendance.

  I squeezed my brows in confusion. "What's going on? I thought Queen Witch of the North was here with her bad self."

  Em's face paled.

  A thunderous voice boomed in the hall. "I am here with my bad self. If you bothered to turn around, you would see that."

  Crap. See? I'm seriously not cut out for this whole queen thing.

  I pivoted on my heel slower than molasses could drip off a branch, and witnessed an entire gang of witches in full-on witchy dress.

  The queen (at least I think she was the queen) stood at the apex of a black shrouded triangle. She was tall, with white hair pulled into a bun on the crown of her head. Severe cheekbones jutted from her face. Bones protruded from the tops of her shoulders. The woman was fragile as paper. Her black skirt billowed around her as if she'd stuck a fan up her dress. However, I didn't see any cords.

  I didn't know what the heck I was doing, so I figured pretending to play anything (stupid, smart) was better than nothing.

  I strode over, arms out as if I really was queen of the castle. "Queen Witch of the North, what a pleasure to meet you."

  Her eyes thinned to slits. "My cousin is dead."

  I stopped. "Yes, I'm so sorry about that." I stepped forward.

  She shrank back. "Who did it?"

  I glanced over my shoulder at Roman. "We're still investigating. We don't have anything concrete yet."

  The queen clenched her fists, puckered up her face and said, "Who did it! Who killed my cousin?"

  I wrung out my ear and waited for her to start asking for some ruby slippers or something.

  "Where's her wand?"

  Oh crap. She didn't ask for slippers. She wanted the wand. Why? There was something off about that. Something I didn't like.

  "We don't have it," I said before anyone could answer.

  She sucked in her cheeks and lowered her head. "I don't believe you." Magic, whether it was intentional or not, swirled lightly around her clenched fists.

  A magical war inside Castle Witch probably wasn't the best idea. "I am so rude. So rude, y'all. Can't even believe it myself. I'm Dylan, er, Queen Witch of the South. And you are?"

  She swallowed, and I swear I saw the outline of her tongue, she was so thin. "Helga de Plume, Queen Witch of the North. You've just found yourself in the middle of a national incident. My cousin has been murdered on your soil. You'd better find out who did it, and fast, or there's going to be another Witch War—one that makes the war of the sixties look like a field trip." She screwed up her face like a six-year-old who wasn't allowed to eat a lollipop and said, "Tell me!"

  Well, this wasn't good. It wasn't good at all. She was a savage beast, and I didn't have any music for her. I wanted to look back at the group for help, but something told me this was a confrontation between queens and queens alone. I—me, Dylan Apel—I alone had to solve this problem.

  "Your cousin was murdered for wanting to start a war between the unicorns and the winged monkeys in Fairyland. Someone killed her because of that. And they stole her wand in the process."

  She gasped. "No!"

  "Yes! Stole it. Snatched it up after they gave her suffocating bubble gum. It was horrible—the bubble gum, I mean. Not the wand. I really don't know where that is. I mean, if I knew I would totes tell you. Absolutely. But I don't. I don't think any of us do." I snapped my neck in the direction of the gaping-mouthed crowd behind me. "Do we know where it is?"

  As if on cue, the entire gaggle of my friends and family shook their heads. Even Roman. Love him!

  Wait. No, I mean I like him. A lot. Like. Not love.

  Whew. That was close.

  "See?" I t
urned back to the Helgs (I was calling her that in my head now, like we were old buddies or something). "We don't know."

  The entire room stilled. Queen Helga tapped her toe. Her gaze brushed each of our faces as if trying to decipher where the lie lay.

  "I want the murderer," she said after like half a lifetime of silence.

  "And you'll get them. But we need to finish the investigation."

  "No," she said. "I won't be blown off. You will find who did this, and you will find them in the next seventy-two hours."

  "By Christmas," Reid huffed. "I don't want to be here that long."

  Seriously. It took everything I had not to throw something in her general direction. God forbid she not see Rick for a couple more days.

  "Okay, I'm sure our investigators will come up with someone by then." I clapped my hands together. "Great. So we'll get right on that." I gave her a smile and stepped back to join my crew.

  "There's one more thing." Helgs smoothed down the front of her dress.

  "Yes?"

  "I need insurance."

  "Okay. We might have a State Farm office around or something," I said. I glanced back. "Do we?"

  Roman shook his head.

  "That's not what I mean," the queen sneered.

  "What do you mean then?" I said.

  Helga's mouth coiled into a smile. She looked like a flippin' snake. That proved it. Gertrude was no good, and neither were any of her family members. Yes, I realized Helgs was only one member of her family, but I felt confident enough to go ahead and write all of them off.

  Sue me.

  The queen sauntered up and said, "I need some insurance."

  "You already said that."

  She circled me, taking her sweet time. "I think you'll do."

  Excuse me? "Ha-ha. Not sure what you're talking about."

  Helgs stopped in front of me. She glanced at her entourage. "Don't you think she'll do? Queen to queen?"

  They giggled and laughed. A couple of them had teeth that were sharpened to points. Ew. Those northern witches were weird.

  I wiped sweaty palms down the front of my jeans. "What are you talking about?"

  "My cousin, the woman voted in as Queen Witch, has been murdered. You were designated to take her place until the murderer is found. But I don't know if anyone actually cares about the murderer. So to make sure they're found, you're going to be my insurance."

  "I think we've covered that part," I said. "What do you mean, insurance?"

  She smiled wickedly. "Your power. You have three days to find the murderer. If you don't, your power will be mine."

  My throat clenched, but I tried to laugh it off. That ended up turning into an embarrassing, hacking cough which I not so quickly recovered from. "Why would I agree to that? There's nothing that would make me want to say yes to something so hideous."

  Helgs took a menacing step forward. "Because if you don't, I'll personally declare war on every Southern witch alive."

  I grimaced and steeled my spine. I didn't want to look back, see the expressions of concern on everyone's faces.

  "But I'm useless," I said. "I'm not much of a witch. I have very little power. I mean, why suck a lemon when you could drink a watermelon?"

  Helgs tipped her head. "You say you have no power."

  I nodded. "Pretty tapped out here. Not much juice."

  She raised a finger and twirled it around. A silver stream of magic flowed from her hand. It circled me. I raised my arms, unsure of exactly what was going on, and watched as the swirl made its way from my feet to my crown. Not a golden crown, you know, just the tip of my head.

  Everyone in the room gaped. "What's going on?" I said.

  No one said anything.

  "Like, what's going on, y'all?"

  "It's beautiful," Sera whispered.

  "Extraordinary," Bannock said. When did he arrive?

  "What is it?" I demanded.

  "Look up," Milly said.

  I took a deep breath and rested my head on my shoulders. "Dear Lord in heaven," I whispered.

  The silver stream of magic had risen above my head, but it wasn't the only bit of magic in the air. It encircled what looked like a cloud of power. I don't know how else to describe it. The cotton-like blue mist shimmered and glittered in the air as the silver danced around it.

  Lightning flickered inside the cloud. It shuddered, causing the walls of the castle to vibrate. I knew in an instant what it was.

  The physical manifestation of my magic.

  "How did you—" I started to say.

  Helgs snickered. "It's only an illusion, of course. Just a taste to let me know the sort of power you have. To let me see if this whole thing is worth it." She licked her lips. "And I think it is."

  My magic entranced me. "Will it stay there?"

  Helgs snapped her fingers. Silver thread reeled into her hand, and my magic rushed into my core, knocking me back. I clutched my gut and exhaled.

  "No," she said, answering my question. "Your magic won't stay there. It'll remain in you until you die. Or if you fail to bring me the killer. Same thing." She flicked her head back and cackled.

  I steadied myself. From the corner of my eye I saw Roman twitch. I flashed him a shake of the head, telling him to stay exactly where he was. I could handle this witch.

  Maybe.

  Perhaps if I played The Little Engine That Could over and over enough times in my brain, I would begin to believe it.

  I heaved a deep breath. "And if I fail to bring you the killer?"

  Helgs grinned. "Then I'll skin you until your power's mine."

  ***

  "You can't let her do this," Sera hissed.

  "And what choice do I have?" I said.

  My family and I huddled in the corner. The northern witches blew us kisses from the other side of the room.

  "You have the choice of choice," Grandma said.

  I sighed, wrapped my hand over her shoulder. "I don't think so. Not this time. It looks like all my choices are gone." I glanced at Roman. "How close are you to wrapping this up?"

  He shook his head. "We've interviewed most of the staff."

  I nibbled on my fingertips. "I thought maybe we could stall her, convince her that we're close."

  Roman raked his fingers through his hair. "It'll be at least another day, day and a half before we're able to start putting real pieces together."

  I spit out a hunk of nail. "Do you think it can be solved in three days?"

  Roman glanced at me, his eyes wells of emotion. "I would never base your life on that statement."

  Helgs cleared her throat and shouted, "If you don't give your power, Queen, we'll take one of your sisters. Without your permission."

  "Then you'll have a war on your hands," I snapped.

  Grandma fumbled her fingers over her mouth. "It's what they want. No matter what. They want a war. Why else would they be here?"

  I flexed my fingers and thought. Either I sacrifice myself or they take someone else. Seriously. When did things get so heavy?

  I gnawed my bottom lip. I could help Roman and Pearbottom. The past couple of times there'd been a murder, I'd been able to help figure something out within a couple of days. Of course, what I figured out happened to be completely wrong. But theoretically I could finger a murder on someone. I was certain of that.

  Now, whether the person was guilty might be a different matter. And to be honest, it really wasn't one that concerned me. All I cared about was staying alive.

  But she wants your magic. That must mean something.

  Shut up, subconscious.

  I whirled around and blazed an imaginary hole in Helga's head. "I'll give you what you want. Your cousin's murderer in three days. Or else I'll hand over my magic."

  She sneered. "You mean you'll let me skin you alive."

  I jutted out my chin. "Same darn thing."

  And with that, the bargain was struck.

  SIXTEEN

  "Why did you do that?"

  Roma
n and I sat in his operations room. It was sort of like a really comfy headquarters for planning and interrogating people with the added bonus of fluffy pillows. It seemed all nice and welcome except for the six-foot-two ex-assassin in the middle of it, his blond hair tumbling over his shoulders and his black duster looking like something right out of The Matrix.

  "Are you going to answer me?" he said.

  "Why'd I do what?"

  "Agree to let her skin you for your magic?"

  I slowed my breath. "What was I supposed to do? Tell Helga to go ahead and declare war?"

  "Yes."

  I rubbed the heels of my hands in my eyes. "It wouldn't have been a fair fight. They're bad people."

  "You think?"

  I scoffed at his biting tongue. Roman whisked off the glasses, dropped down to his knees and took my hands. "I've only just met you. I don't want to lose you."

  I gave him a weak smile. "You won't. We'll have our killer by the time the three days are up. I believe in you."

  He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and hugged me to him. I buried my face in his chest. I exhaled and stopped any and all stress tears from breaking the surface. There was no time for crying. There was a killer to catch.

  "Keep doing your interviews," I said. "I've got someone of my own I need to talk to."

  "Who?" Roman asked.

  "No one important. But let me know if anything turns up. Anything."

  He threaded his fingers through the tip of my ponytail. "I'll fight to the death for you, you know. They won't take you."

  I squeezed his arm. "I know."

  Let's hope it doesn't come to that.

  I found Sera up in our room. She'd been crying.

  "What's all this about? Did Brock break up with you?"

  She rushed over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. "You're going to die!"

  I inhaled the cherry-blossom scent of her shampoo. "I'm not going to die."

  "But they have pointy teeth," she said, sniffling.

  I yanked her off me. "Listen, I hate to get all Queen Witch on you, but we have crap to do. Like find the killer yesterday. I need your help."