by Amy Boyles
Not that anyone was going to lobotomize Boo Bane, but you know, they might hurt his brain a little.
When I reached the theater, I noticed Damon Devlin poking around Never Forget. A halo shrouded the golden cup. Waves of gold shimmered off it, and to be honest, the trophy looked glorious. I think I heard angels singing in the background somewhere.
Kidding.
Devlin noticed me watching him. He cleared his throat and yanked up his vampire collar.
“Is it the real thing?” I joked.
He nearly tripped over his feet as he walked toward me. “Of course it’s the real thing,” he barked. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
I eased away from him. “I don’t know. It was just a joke. Of course it’s the real thing.”
Devlin raised his nose in the air. “Of course it is. Preposterous that you would suggest otherwise.”
I pumped my hands apologetically. “You’re right. It was foolish of me to say anything.”
He cleared his throat. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Touchy, touchy,” I whispered.
“Who’s touchy?”
I yelped in fright. Reid stood a hairbreadth from me. She rested an elbow on my shoulder. “You okay? You look a little scared.”
I pushed her off. “Why are you sneaking up on people?”
“Hey, I’m not sneaking. If you’re afraid and scared, it has nothing to do with me.”
“Right,” I grumbled. “You all set for the competition?”
Reid slid a pack of gum from her pocket. She unwrapped a stick, shoved it in her mouth, and proceeded to smack on it like a lion chomping the bones of her kill.
“That’s attractive,” I said.
Reid shrugged.
Gladiolas clapped her hands. “Can I have everyone’s attention please?” She clapped again. “Please, everyone.”
The contestants appeared from behind the theater curtain and gathered on the stage.
Gladiolas rubbed the ends of her fingers together. “Welcome, all of you to the final day of competitions. I expect the theater will soon fill up with many witches who want to see what all of you can do. I, for one, have been amazed at the level of talent this year. All of you have done a fabulous job and even though only one of you can go home with the trophy, please know that you’re all winners.”
Her mouth spread into a warm smile. I couldn’t help but smile back.
“There are only twenty of you left. Yesterday, we cut a good majority of you.”
I glanced around and saw Taylor Cobblestone. He caught my gaze. In the half second that our eyes met, Cobblestone shifted his pupils from round to slitted, like an animal’s. I peered at him to make sure I was seeing things correctly. The edges of his mouth curled into a wicked smile. I rolled my eyes. I would not be intimidated by childish tricks.
Even if they were eerie weird.
And made me totally uncomfortable.
Gladiolas continued. “We will start the competition in two hours. That will give you time to think and work on your entries. This is what you need to know. For the final day of Magical Abilities, you must come up with your worst nemesis—your worst fear. You will be asked to conjure this in front of the panel of judges. Once you have shown us your fear, you must then overcome it.”
Several hands rose.
Gladiolas shook her head. “I can’t answer any questions regarding the final task. It is as I have said. You will summon your greatest fear and then master it before the audience and the judges. You have free rein on whatever that fear is. Does that help?”
A few people nodded.
Gladiolas scanned the crowd until her gaze settled on me. “I can’t answer specific questions about the fear, and I can’t tell you if you’ve chosen a good or a bad one—that is for you to decide.” She glanced at a silver watch on her wrist. “You have two hours. We’ll see you back here then. Good luck to all of you.”
The crowd dispersed amid a tangle of murmurs. I racked my brain. What the heck was I going to come up with? My greatest fear? I wish they could just tell me what to do and I’d do it. I didn’t want to improvise on the side.
I found Reid and Sera talking.
“Do you know what you’re doing?”
Reid nodded. “I’ve totally got this.”
I fished in my purse for a stick of Chap Stick. I uncapped the top and rubbed it lavishly over my lips. “Oh, you got this? I’m impressed. I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
Sera fingered through her smooth locks. “What are you going to do, Reid?”
Reid smiled. “I’m not telling.”
“That’s no fair,” I said.
“It’s totally fair. I can’t tell you; you might steal it.”
I tossed the Chap Stick back in my purse. “I see how little you think of me. Thank you very much.”
Reid shrugged. “It’s a competition. I have to think about myself first.”
I threw up my hands. “I see how it is. I need to go sit and think for a few minutes. You know, so I can come up with something, because I certainly don’t want to be tempted to steal from y’all.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Reid said. “That pleases me.”
I cuffed her shoulder.
“Hey,” she said.
I walked to the back of the theater and sat down, way in back. I could see the stage through the slats in the seats. I pulled a pen and paper from my purse and started jotting down ideas. “Greatest fear,” I mumbled. “Greatest fear.”
I chewed the pen top as I sorted through mental flash cards of things I was afraid of. Spiders? I hated spiders. I could create a huge spider and then zap it or something. Hmm. That was a possibility.
I glanced up as I picked through my brain. My eyes glazed, and I almost didn’t notice when Devlin walked back to Never Forget. He glanced over his shoulder as if to check that no one was looking.
I hunkered down to make sure he didn’t see me. I peered through the chairs to the judge’s table. Grandma and Gladiolas were gone. So were the other contestants. Most of them had gone outside to think and breathe.
He pinched the lid of Never Forget with his thumb and forefinger. He lifted the cap and peered inside. That one movement brought back the vision I saw when I licked the frog’s back. A bit of the haze cleared and more of the memory returned to me. I remembered seeing a slash of red and hearing a voice whispering to Henrietta.
Oh my goodness. Henrietta had stolen Never Forget, but someone had pushed her to do it.
A gaggle of voices wafted into the theater. Devlin quickly placed the lid back on and took his seat at the table.
Gladiolas and a knot of witches entered. “We start in ten minutes, everyone. Ten minutes!”
Ten minutes later the theater was packed. And I mean packed tight like when you’ve gotten into your long johns, undershirt, jeans, sweater, and big puffy coat in order to go outside to enjoy one inch of snow because it’s Alabama and it only snows once a year, if you’re lucky. But you live in the South so any temperature dip below 32 degrees means you’ll get frostbite if you don’t put on every single stitch of clothing that you own.
That is gospel truth, y’all.
We’d pulled numbers to set the order of things. I was number twenty. Dead last. Well, hopefully not dead. I mean, that wouldn’t be good.
As the contest started, I wove my way backstage to the greenroom. A cluster of witches sat in chairs, looking over notes or sitting quietly with their eyes closed. No one talked. Chalk it up to nerves, I guess.
My phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out and read a text from Roman.
How’re you doing?
Okay. How’re you?
They’ve got Dad in a holding cell. Pearbottom wants to drag the memories out of him.
This was beyond bad.
Can you stop him? I typed.
I’ll try.
Keep me posted, okay? I love you.
Pause as he typed his reply. I love you more.
A smile gr
ew on my face.
I hoped he would keep me as posted as he possibly could. If only there was some way to get Pearbottom not to hurt Boo. But how?
I had it!
I texted Roman again. Seriously. Let me know if Pearbottom is going to move forward on this.
I didn’t wait for Roman’s reply. I rose and shouldered my purse. Since I was number twenty I definitely wouldn’t be going anytime soon, which meant there was plenty of time to do my own investigating.
I left the greenroom and picked my way backstage until I found Reid.
“What number are you?” I whispered.
“Eight,” she said. “Why?”
“Because I may need you to do something.”
She folded her arms. “Forget it.”
I leaned back. “What?”
My baby sister wagged her finger at me. “I’m going to win this competition, Dylan. I already told you. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that.”
I lifted my nose in the air. “Fine. Be that way.”
“I will.”
I threw her a look that made her wilt slightly. “Where’s Sera?”
Reid pointed to another corner. “Over there.”
I walked over to my sister. “I’m deep in thought,” she said. “Are you going to interrupt that?”
I cocked my head. “Probably.”
“Figures,” she mumbled.
“Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”
Sera pushed off the fake plywood bush she was leaning on and said, “Why can’t you do said favor?”
I grimaced. “Well, because it’ll be what someone expects me to do?”
“So it might get me into trouble.”
I shook my head. “Not you. But if I did it, I would definitely get in trouble.”
Sera scrunched up her face. “That doesn’t make sense.”
I pulled my purse tightly across my chest. “Can you just hear me out on this?”
She gave a reluctant nod. “Go ahead.”
“Okay, lean in close.” I whispered what I needed her to do into my ear.
“I could get into serious trouble for this.”
I sighed. “I know. It’s a huge favor, but I only need you to do one part. I’ll get Milly to do the rest.”
Sera sighed. “You’re sure about this?”
“One hundred percent.” I hugged her. “Don’t do it unless I call or text you. Keep your phone at the ready.”
Sera waved it in front of her. “I’ve been texting Brock all morning. Don’t worry. It’s at the ready.”
“Thanks.” I started to turn away.
“Where are you going?”
I smiled. “To find out as much as I can about Queen Catherine’s death.”
I called Milly on the way. She laughed when I told her everything. “I’ll get right on it.”
“You sure you can manage it?”
“I wouldn’t be a witch otherwise, would I?”
I hung up and raced on. I hadn’t been in the castle’s museum for a while. I found the new curator at a desk I’d never noticed before. Hmm. Must’ve been a new addition.
“Morning,” she said.
“Morning.”
“I’m Delia Bell.”
“Dylan Apel.”
She smiled, revealing a row of pearly whites. “I know who you are. I think everyone in the castle does. You were queen for a day, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Delia Bell was a tall, dark-skinned woman. She looked to be in her late thirties, but she had a timeless beauty that made it difficult to pinpoint. Soft dark curls framed her face and her cheeks were full. It was in her face that I understood the phrase “the apples of her cheeks,” because Delia’s were robust.
She wore a deep wine-colored wrap dress accessorized with a long golden chain and gold hoop earrings. There was something absolutely welcoming about her. I liked Delia instantly.
“What can I do for you today?”
“I want to know everything about the people who were around when Queen Catherine was murdered.”
Delia’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. “No small task.”
I shrugged. “I know.”
“Well, let me see. A question like that might best be answered in the castle library, but I may have just the thing.”
Delia’s tan high heels clicked over the stone floor as she led me to a rack of rickety shelving in the back.
“Since Bertie was arrested, I’ve been trying to clean up the museum, but I haven’t gotten back here yet,” she apologized.
I gulped. Bertie, the last museum curator, had murdered a newly elected queen, Gertrude Boxbigger.
Bertie had offed the queen because Gertrude had wanted a war between witches and the folks who lived in Fairyland. Lots of folks would’ve died—good folks.
Delia pulled a thin book from the shelf. She blew a layer of dust from the frayed cover and set it on a nearby table. She peeled back a page.
“This book details the events that happened right after the murder.”
I arched a brow. “Why is it in a book?”
Delia smiled. “Bertie would do that sort of thing. Catalog events and people. It was just her way.”
“Oh? She wrote it?”
Delia nodded. “Take a look. See if there’s anything interesting.”
“Thank you.” Delia walked back to her desk. I checked my phone. No new texts from Roman. I set the phone on the table by the book and started reading.
What I discovered was that the entire castle was in disarray after the murders. Bertie had been in the museum at the time the Crystal of Power was stolen. She wrote that someone had wiped her memory clean, taken the crystal and then performed the murders. I knew that Roman had knocked a wand out of someone’s hand and I also knew that Boo Bane had seen what happened, but he’d also had his memory erased because of an undercover operation going on at the time.
All I wanted to do was find out who was in the castle, who was around before and after all the events were taking place. My crazy theory was that if I could pinpoint a few names and match them up with the bigwigs that were here in the castle right now, I might be able to narrow down the list of suspects.
Why hadn’t Roman done this?
Well, Roman was busy keeping his father safe. He may have poured over this book as well, but he was only thirteen at the time of the murders and let’s face it, there was a lot of pain associated with these killings. Also, Roman didn’t want to get one person in his mind as the killer and then go after them in a witch hunt. He wanted to make sure whoever was convicted was the guilty party.
As I perused the document, two names stuck out at me. One was Frederick Cobblestone. Cobblestone had pushed the witch police to find Boo Bane and charge him with murder. Frederick had also apparently wanted the council to elect him king.
“We’ve had too many queens,” he was quoted as saying. “There are power issues that need to be straightened out. The people need a strong king to lead them through this turbulent time.”
Roman had told me about the power issues. At the time Roman’s mother had wanted to give the people of Fairyland a bigger say in the witch government. They had recently returned from a witch conference, and Roman’s mother had been accused of abusing her power.
My guess was that the Fairyland situation had been a cover-up. I believed that Catherine’s death had to do with the magic stealing ring. That was what always came up whenever I started delving into things. Whoever the master was, they had wanted Boo Bane taken out of the equation, which was why Smiley Martin had tried to kill him a a couple of months ago.
I took a deep breath. There was one other person whose name kept coming up, but not to take power. That person was trying to restore order, keep people calm, offer hope. That person was—
My phone buzzed. Roman’s name flashed on the screen. I picked it up.
“Hey,”
“Hey, darlin’,” he said. He sounded troubled.
“What’s wrong?”
The information hit me like lightning. I bolted out of my seat. “I’ve got to go. I love you, Roman. Hang tight. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I hung up the phone and dashed through the museum. “Thanks for letting me look at the book,” I yelled to Delia as I tripped on the corner of a display case. My arms pinwheeled in front of me as I sailed forward. I caught my balance and righted myself as I rushed through the door and back into the main part of the castle.
I found Sera’s number among the favorites on my phone and hit her name. It only rang once.
“What’s up?” she said. “I’m about to go on.”
“It’s time,” I screeched. “They’re about to take Boo.”
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
“Sera, you’ve got to do this. I’m on my way back now. I’m counting on you.”
She sighed. “Okay. But I’d better not get into any trouble.”
“You won’t. I promise.” Could she please just do what I needed and stop arguing with me? I mean, a guy’s life is, like, practically on the line here.
“Okay.” She hung up.
I raced through the castle and out the front door. The sun’s warm rays pricked the skin on my arms. It was bright. I shielded my eyes and headed for the theater.
Gosh, I prayed Sera was going to do it. “Please let this go smoothly,” I whispered. “Please.” You know, just in case God was listening.
I reached the theater doors and threw them open. My lungs burned because I did not exercise. My idea of exercise was sewing and designing dresses. Whenever I tried to exert any kind of will or energy to get into shape, things happened like my lungs burning.
It was uncomfortable, and I didn’t like it.
Anyway, I barged into the theater in time to see Sera knock over the Never Forget.
Grandma jumped from her chain. “Oh dear! Someone save it.”
I saw Milly standing in the rear of the castle. She stroked a thumb over her nose at that moment.
The lid of the trophy clanked to the floor. Sera scrambled toward the cup. “Oh my gosh, I’m so clumsy. I’m so sorry.” She scooped up the trophy and looked down into it. A confused look washed across her face.