by Tonya Kappes
Get out there. Blend in. Find Gerald. Take off cloak. I had to keep repeating to make myself feel better.
“Well thanks.” I didn’t bother glancing back at the gypsy. I rushed out the door I had come in, leaving her and the memories of her behind. There was no time. I had to find Gerald.
The sun was shining. It was the first time I had seen the sun in a while. What was left of the snow was all gone. The castle on the hill was even scarier in the daylight.
The streets of Azarcabam were filled with all sorts of merchants and their wooden buggy carts. They pushed their wares through the streets, screaming at people to get out of their way.
The dangling gems kept beating me in the forehead, causing me to sling my head to the side as if they were side bangs.
“I wasn’t finished with you yet.” The familiar gypsy voice whispered over my shoulder in my left ear. “There are things you must do for me.”
“I paid my money.” I walked a little faster. Surely since I had shoes on, I could walk faster. “I owe you nothing.”
A wad of spit came flying over my shoulder and landed on the ground in front of me.
“Thief! This woman is a thief!” The gypsy danced around me with her arms extended out in front of her, not letting me pass. “She stole my veil!” she seethed. “She’s the intruder you seek!”
“What are you doing?” I hissed at her.
Her eyes were dark, squinted with malice set deep in them. She grabbed my wrist and spit again, this time landing on my shoe. A crowd had gathered around.
“You are just foul people.” I pushed her aside.
She fell to the ground like I really did forcibly push her. She lay on the dirt ground. Her arm shot in the air, her finger pointed at me. “You are a thief!”
The crowd got rowdy. Their circle moved closer and closer to me as they stepped forward. Each of them gnashing their teeth, spitting, and yelling expletives at me.
Nervously I rubbed my hand around my wrist. My bracelet was gone.
“My bracelet.” Frantically I looked around my feet, trying to ignore the angry mob.
“Mine now, witch!” The gypsy dangled my bracelet with her long fingers before she slipped it into the depths of her cloak. “Get her!”
Before I could run, a couple of men grabbed me. Another man threw me over his shoulder and started to march. I held onto my bag and tried to squirm my way off and out of his muscular grip, but I was going nowhere.
“Let me go!” I screamed moving side to side in hopes he’d drop me.
“Kill the witch!” the crowd screamed with their fists pumping the air.
“I’m not a witch!” I yelled back in hopes to save my life. “Mr. Prince Charming!” I screamed trying to lift my head to see if he was anywhere around.
It would come in awfully handy if he would live up to his duty of fairy-god cat.
The man turned around and walked backward. The crowd roared like he was slaying the big bad witch. I looked up.
The scary castle was getting closer. At that moment I knew I was about to get a tour.
Chapter Twenty Three
We didn’t make it all the way up the hill before a horse-drawn wagon pulled up behind us. The man dropped me from his shoulder and on my butt into the wagon.
“Ouch!” I rubbed my leg where it had hit the edge and noticed Mr. Prince Charming crouched in the tall, thick grass on the side of the gravel road. Seeing him gave me a little more confidence. “Where are you taking me?”
“Silence thief!” The man clicked the reins and the horse bolted off, sending me flying backward.
“I’m not a thief. The gypsy took my twenty-dollar bill in exchange for the cloak and veil.” I simply stated the facts because I knew this was all a misunderstanding. “She is the thief. She is a thief who took my bracelet.”
“Silence thief!” he screamed in his gruff ogre voice. “You will be heard in court.”
“Court?” My mouth dropped. “When is court?”
“It could be a couple of years or ten years. Depends.”
“Years?” My throat tightened. I didn’t have years.
Images of Oscar pushing a baby carriage with Arabella on his arm strolling through Whispering Falls danced in my head.
“I don’t have years. Let me go!” I demanded to deaf ears and stomped my feet.
I grabbed the sides of the wagon and held on for dear life when the horse took off straight up to the castle.
“Stick her in the dungeon,” the man driving the wagon told the guard who came out to get me.
My eyes drew up and down. He didn’t look so tough in his little ballooning pants, bare feet, and blowsy top that looked like someone had ripped the sleeves off of it. His greasy scruffy brown hair could stand to use a good shampoo. The patches of hair on his face proved he was only a young boy who was trying to fit in with the others. Even his eyes were more innocent.
“Or you could just let me go.” I smiled through the pain when he grabbed me shooting down my little theory that I could take him down.
He flung me over his shoulder. What was it with flinging me? I made sure to watch and make mental notes on where he was taking me. I was going to get out of this place somehow.
Before the heavy wooden doors closed behind us, Mr. Prince Charming darted in unnoticed. The halls were lit with candle sconces every few feet along the walls. The walls were draped with heavy tapestries.
“Is this really going to take years?” I asked the young man as he tossed me to his other shoulder.
He let out an audible groan when I landed.
“You can put me down. I can walk,” I told him.
He stopped, bent his knees and leaned forward setting me on my knees. I stood there without moving in fear he would grab me up again.
“Oh,” he sighed and put his hands on the small of his back stretching his torso back. He flung his hands above his head and then plunged down to the ground. He said, “I’m not cut out to carry women like that.”
“Thank you!” I put my hands out in front of me and moved a little half-circle around him.
“Whoa.” He put his arm out in front of me to stop me from going any further. “I put you down, not set you free. You have a crime to answer for.”
I winced when he grabbed me by the arm and thrust me forward.
“Walk,” he ordered.
I did what he told me to do.
“Tell me about this place.” I was trying to make small talk to make a personal connection with him which was something I saw in the movies. If he recognized I was human, he might feel bad and let me go.
“It’s almost as old as our village. We use the dungeon to hold thieves like yourself.” He kept his voice low and mysterious. “It is rumored to have several secret passageways, but I have yet to find any.”
“So this is your job?” I asked, this time out of curiosity.
“Yes.”
“I own a homeopathic cure shop in Whispering Falls.” It was good hearing Whispering Falls come out of my mouth. It made my situation seem a little less bleak.
“Whispering Falls. Hmmm…,” he hesitated, “is that the village where everyone is welcome?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact that was the first rule I made when I became the Village President.” I stopped when he grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled on a heavy metal round handle attached to a large wooden door. There was a winding staircase going down. He gestured for me to go. “I think everyone should be able to get along.”
“You are the President of Whispering Falls?” His boastful laughter echoed, bouncing off the old stone walls. “And you are in Azarcabam stealing an old cloak with a fake jeweled veil?”
“I didn’t steal it. I needed it to move around the village in order to find my missing friend.” The future was starting to look bleak to me. Luckily Aunt Helena knew where I was and surely she wouldn’t leave me here for years.
“Whispering Falls, huh?” he asked again. His heavy footsteps thundered down each step be
hind me.
“Yep.” I let out a heavy sigh. The movies and TV shows made it look so much easier.
“Do you know Arabella Paxton?” he asked.
“You know Arabella?” In shock, I stopped dead in my tracks. He fell into me. I didn’t even realize we were at the bottom when the door swung open and knocked me in the head, knocking me out cold.
Chapter Twenty Four
“Oh,” I groaned. I didn’t know what hurt worse, the large goose egg of a knot on my forehead or my back where they had laid me on the hard cold stone floor in one of the dungeon cells.
“How do you think I feel?” The male voice asked from across the cell. I couldn’t see him through the dark.
I sat up and rubbed my head.
“What made you pass out this time?” he joked.
This time? I felt my torso. The guard wasn’t too smart. They had left my bag strapped around my body. I reached in and grabbed my phone. I knew there was no way I would have coverage, but I did have the flashlight.
The man was crumpled up in the corner with his back to me.
“What do you mean ‘this time’?” I asked him.
He rolled over. I dropped the phone from the shock when I saw it was Gerald.
I scurried over to him, grabbing the phone on my way over.
“Gerald,” I gasped. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Don’t get too excited. Both of us are in here.” There was doom and gloom in his voice, but I could see some relief in his eyes. Plus he melted when I grabbed him, sucking him into a big bear hug.
“At least we are together.” I didn’t want to let go. “And Mr. Prince Charming is around here somewhere.”
Both of us knew that we had a little shot of getting out with my ornery cat sneaking around.
I pulled away and put the phone light between us. It illuminated just enough for us to see each other’s face. There was a little more hope then what I had seen before in his eyes.
“We have to find a way to get out of here.” I moved the light source around the dungeon looking for any type of opening or crack.
I racked my fingers along the large cement block. Light debris fell to the floor in little crumbles.
“Ugh!” I screamed. Frustrated, I beat my fist on the cold and damp wall. “Why aren’t you helping me?” I wailed through a veil of tears that had formed on my lids. “Don’t you want to get out of here?” I pleaded and cursed under my breath.
“There is no reason to live with my sweet dear Petunia dead.” His voice was tight as he spoke. He let out a whimper before his body deflated back down to the floor.
“Petunia isn’t dead,” I assured him. “Not awake, but not dead.”
“You mean she survived the spiders?”
“How did you know about the spiders?” Incomplete thoughts swirled in my head.
Did he put the spiders there? Did Arabella? Eloise did say that anyone who had access to flowers and herbs had access to the Vermillian Spiders. Did the gypsy have anything to do with Arabella? How did Gerald tie into all of this? What about his relationship with Arabella? Tramp.
Never in a million years did I ever see my life turning out to be a spiritualist. And I wasn’t going to die in some dungeon. Right about now, I really wished I was back at the Locust Grove flea market selling my little potions I had made in the shed.
“No the spiders didn’t kill her.” I didn’t know if I should tell him about my going to see her, but we were stuck in here and there was no real reason not to. Our situation wasn’t looking so great. “I went to the hospital to see her. I noticed you didn’t.”
He hung his head in shame.
“I had broken into Glorybee and got some evidence that one of my customers had left in her shop.” I looked at him with a critical eye.
“This customer,” his voice was softly low. A little too softly, as if it was a sign of danger and he knew it was a sign of danger. “Did she have short hair, emerald earrings?”
I nodded. I had a niggling suspicion that he was holding something back.
“Did she ask you for a potion?” He got into the crawl position, looking me dead in the eyes.
I nodded.
“Oh God June!” he cried out and stood up on his knees with his hands in his head.
His reaction pulled a sick feeling out of me. There was not an ounce of hope he was giving me.
Stay strong, my intuition told me.
“What Gerald?” Swaying a bit, I leaned up against the wall. Please don’t faint, I begged myself. This was definitely not the time.
“Please, tell me,” I said hoarsely and reached my hand out to touch Gerald’s, “why you are in here?”
“There is something you need to know,” his voice trembled. “I’m from Azarcabam and I have committed a crime that has not only affected my life but has left my precious Petunia hanging on for dear life.”
“Are you saying you are the one who hurt Petunia?” I didn’t care where he was from. All I cared about was clearing my name in order to get home to claim Oscar. I had no idea how much time had gone by since I had left Whispering Falls. The limited daylight and lack of schedule had thrown me off.
“Not directly.” He drew back. “My past does.”
“What happened?” I didn’t want to let him know the gypsy and Madame Torres had told me his past was what I needed to figure out in order to clear my name of this mess and how I found the spiders and the Thickeris Plant at the gypsy’s place.
“Wait,” he stopped. “Why are you here?”
“I came looking for you.” There was no reason to be blunt. Especially since I was going to have him arrested for the crime. “You suddenly skipped town. Arabella Paxton convinced Sheriff Lance that I was the one who hurt Petunia.”
“No, no.” He shook his head, visibly shaken. “No.”
“Yes,” I said firmly. I wasn’t going to let little Miss Pretty Flower get her cute way. “Yes. She wants Oscar for herself. I saw her talking all secretive to you.” I pointed at him. “And she sent Petunia flowers from me. Orchids of all things. And she sent me flowers with Thickeris Plant which was used in a potion I made for a client’s barren daughter. Don’t tell me she doesn’t have it out for me.”
I crossed my arms. Thinking about her made my blood boil and want to desperately get out of here faster.
I felt my hand around the old rock wall to find one of those secret passageways the young guard had heard about.
“How do you know the customer?” I asked. He hadn’t finished telling me about her.
“Ezmeralda is my wife,” Gerald’s voice was muffled.
“What did you say?” I turned back around. “It sounded like you said she is your wife.” I laughed at the trick my ears were playing on me. “Sorry, I’m sure it’s from being taken prisoner in a foreign village.” I put my finger in my ear and wiggled it back and forth to get my hearing back.
“You heard right. I’m married and we are from here. We are both Dark-Siders. I never told anyone. When I moved to Whispering Falls years ago, I fudged my records.” There was no pride in his voice.
“Oh my God.” I held my hand up to my mouth. Suddenly I felt like I was going to throw up. “Does Petunia know?”
“No.” Gerald’s head hung down.
“Does anyone in Whispering Falls know?” I asked. I know he had said no one knew, but maybe he had told Izzy or someone and they would know we were here.
My knees felt weak. My stomach hurt. I slid down the wall. Mr. Prince Charming crept through the small bars of the dungeon and rushed to my side.
“No. Only Mary Lynn and Arabella. Arabella wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I wouldn’t.” Arabella grabbed the bars on the other side, the free side of the dungeon.
Meow. Mr. Prince Charming did figure eights around Arabella’s ankles letting me know she was a safe person. Purr, purr. He did an extra little rub-up to assure my cautious soul.
“Hi D
ad.” Arabella smiled. Her eyes softened. Gerald stood up and rushed over to the bars, taking Arabella’s hands into his, kissing them.
“Dad?” The anger welled in my voice. I snapped my fingers in the air. “Gerald.” I held a steady and stern voice. “Your daughter?” I pointed my finger in the air. My mouth rambled like the train I had ridden in on. “Who is her mother? Does Petunia know she is your daughter?”
Daughter? Things were becoming very clear.
“So your daughter moves to Whispering Falls and opens a shop. Your wife finds out, from her,” I jabbed my finger her way, practically blaming her for what happened, “and she and your wife wreck havoc on our sweet town all because you couldn’t keep it in your pants?” I screamed.
Mr. Prince Charming circled the perimeter of the ten-by-ten old stone cell. Every few steps he would touch a stone as though he was looking for something.
“Stop it!” I yelled at Mr. Prince Charming. He was making me nervous and I was on edge.
“I’m not sure how it all happened. I hadn’t planned on getting married again. Ezmeralda is a crazy gypsy.” Gerald wasn’t lying. She was two kinds of crazy—scorned wife crazy and gypsy crazy.
“June, I had to have a fresh start. My grandmother told me about Whispering Falls.” Arabella showed some signs of regret, which was a little more endearing. “I don’t want to live the life of a gypsy and when I told my mom, she wouldn’t hear of it. That is when Grandmother and Dad helped me escape, only Mom had all her little friends watching us and we didn’t know it.”
“And Oscar?”
“Oh,” she shook her head, “he was only to distract you from what was going on. I knew Mom was lurking around. She told me that if I got your goat and picked out that ring you wanted that she would give Dad the divorce and no one would ever know. Only you were too smart for her.”
“Let me clear this up.” I sucked in a big deep breath of air. “You aren’t after my man?”
“No, he’s all yours if I can get you out of here.” Suddenly I was liking Arabella a little bit more.