by Maher Tegan
His brow was furrowed, and he had one arm across his chest, his other elbow resting on it as he rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. Something’s not right. The style of the trunk suggests the 1700s at the latest. So does the lock. Unless it went into the water recently, though, it should be in worse shape than it is. The leather is barely cracked, and there’s not hardly any corrosion on the brass at all.”
I sighed, disappointment starting to darken the edges of my excitement. “Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out, right? Let’s get it back to the Sea Urchin and open her up.” Since the thing was at least four feet long, it was situated length-ways in the boat with the far end propped up on the hull. There was no way we could open it there.
“Let’s do it,” he said, then fired up the trolling motor and turned us in a wide circle so as not to dump the chest overboard. What a nightmare that would have been.
Larry was waiting for us when we made it back, standing on the transom with his hand over his eyes like a visor to shade them.
“Whatcha got there?” he called as we brought the dinghy around. Eli cut the motor, allowing our momentum to bring us the rest of the way in. I tossed Larry the line and he pulled us up tight.
“A trunk,” I replied, and he rolled his eyes.
“No kiddin, What’s in it?”
“Not sure yet, but if you’ll help us get it on board, we’ll find out,” I said. “It was buried deep, so there could be something good in it.”
“Or somethin’ bad,” Eli muttered. I didn’t like the way he said that, especially considering the bad feeling he’d had that morning. I had a sudden desire to turn around and take the trunk back to where we’d found it and shove it overboard. I had a gut feeling that whatever was in that trunk was gonna be nothing but trouble, and my gut was rarely wrong.
Chapter 4
I t took some maneuvering and more than a little magic to get the trunk out of the dinghy and onto the deck of the Sea Urchin, but we did it. It was a typical antique trunk: wooden slats with a rounded top, brass hinges and brass bands around it to strengthen it.
Larry squatted down next to it and examined the old-fashioned lock. “I can have that open in two shakes if you want me to.”
“We definitely want you to,” Eli said, then held up his hand. “Or maybe we don’t.”
I shot him a look asking him if all the water’d run out of his coconut, but he shook his head. “There’s magic in there. Can’t you feel it?”
Since that was usually my specialty, I reached out with my senses. I did pick up something, but nothing as strong as he obviously was. I lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, I guess I can, a little.” I gave it another mental poke, and this time my armlet warmed. I withdrew with a sharp exhale.
“No, not a little,” he said. “A lot. And I don’t like it.”
Larry looked between us. “Aye or nay?”
I’d learned never to go against Eli’s gut. If he said no, it was a hard no. I shook my head. “We’ll take it back and have Dad open it there. Better safe than sorry, but you can come with us if you’d like.”
He shook his head. “Not unless we can do it right away. Remember, I’m leaving in the mornin’ and I still have to batten down the hatches and do half a dozen other chores before I just leave everything for two weeks.”
That made me feel bad because I could tell he was as excited as we were to see what was in it. The thing weighed a ton, so it wasn’t empty. There was magic involved, though, and it was better to disappoint him than accidentally get him hurt or killed just because we couldn’t manage our curiosity.
“I’ll take a video when we do it so you can see what all’s in there. We’ll make sure you see every single thing that comes out of it,” Eli told him. “I don’t feel safe just opening it before we’ve tested it seven ways to Sunday to make sure nothing bad is going to spring out at us.”
He nodded and gave us a grizzled half-smile. “I get it. I can’t say I’m not a little heartbroken, but I get it.”
I frowned, my gaze roaming over it in search of any clue as to its origins. “I don’t understand. What’s a magical trunk doing sitting at the bottom of our bay? What if somebody non-magical had found it? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Larry shook his head and squinted one eye Popeye-style. “The sea’s a mysterious wench with many secrets. She doesn’t often give them up, so you may never know where it came from. Sometimes, lass, it’s best to leave well enough alone.”
Eli sighed and rubbed his forearms and gave the trunk the stink-eye. “I agree. I don’t like it.”
“You may do better to put it back where you found it,” Larry said, rubbing the nape of his sunburned neck.
I thought about it for a moment then shook my head. “I don’t think so. We can’t leave it there for somebody else to find.”
I pulled my cell from my duffel bag to text my father, but I didn’t have any reception.
“Let’s just get it back to shore. Dad’s dealt with magical artifacts for decades. He’ll know what to do.” A thought struck me, and I turned to Eli. “Do you think this is what your bad feeling was about this morning?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m afraid it is. But it’s spilt milk at this point. We’ll just have to deal with whatever comes when it does. And I do mean when and not if .”
I toweled off and shrugged back into my jean shorts and tank top while Eli and Larry weighed anchor, a million questions running through my mind. I cleared my mind and did a deeper dive into what the trunk might be hiding. I huffed in frustration after a few moments because, even though I could sense magic, the trunk seemed to be pushing me away. I understood now how Superman must have felt when he was trying to see through lead.
I doubled my focus, determined to read whatever it was the box was trying to hide. My concentration was broken a few seconds later when my armlet became warm again, then downright hot. The second I pulled my attention from the box, it cooled again. That was new. And definitely not good.
To distract myself, I joined Larry at the helm. He remained quiet, which went against his nature.
“You okay?” I asked, his troubled aura brushing against my senses as a cold cross breeze luffed the sails for a minute.
He shook his head. “Ill winds are blowin’, lass, and I don’t know that they’ll blow anybody any good.”
I shivered, then sighed. What was done was done, so all I could do was mitigate the risk and null whatever bad juju the trunk contained. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d come across magical nasties, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
But when an old seadog was telling you things felt off, it was a smart person who listened to him.
Chapter 5
A s soon as we were back to shore, I tried to call my dad again. It went straight to voicemail, so I left him a message. It wasn’t unusual for him to shut his phone off when he was researching or dealing with clients, so I wasn’t too surprised.
“How bout I toss that in my pickup and give you two a lift to your shop?” Larry asked.
We’d left my Mustang at The Clam because parking at the marina was a pain, and the trunk wouldn’t have fit in it, anyway. “That would be awesome,” I said, smiling at him. I glanced around to make sure there were no non-magical eyes around, then levitated the trunk off the boat, surprised when it gave a little tug of resistance. It was like I was pulling it against the wind, and I wondered if maybe Larry had been right and we should have just dumped it back where we’d found it. Too late now, though.
My family’s business, simply known as Parker’s Inc., was located in an area called Old Town that leaned toward more refined, well-to-do customers. By careful design, the area attracted foot traffic, and though there was still a significant pirate and sea ambiance, it was present in kitschy art galleries, artisanal jewelry shops, and spendy seafood bistros.
The town’s designers had made it the perfect area for shopping and spending time enjoying the Florida sun. There was a huge green on the opposite side of the st
reet from the shops that had a rose garden at one end and two separate fountains as well as a paved walking path that circled the whole thing. Old oaks dotted the grounds, and there were benches placed under them in case you’d like to take a seat in the shade to rest or reflect while you watched the water spout from a mermaid’s mouth.
It wasn’t exactly my cup of tea, but considering it paid the bills, I was willing to deal with it. Even though I preferred the area by the beach with its weather-hewn planks and corny shops, who was I to complain about working in such a great place even if it was a little too upscale for me?
My twin brother Jacob was working when we pulled to the back entrance of the shop. He must have seen us go past the front because we’d no sooner parked than he was dropping the tailgate. I smiled when I saw him. Even though he was infuriating, he was one of my two favorite people in the world. He was also the male version of me – chestnut hair with strands of red brought out in the sunshine, green eyes, and a fair complexion, though he tanned much easier than I did. Also like me, his style vacillated between beach bum and rebel depending on how hot it was outside. Unlike me, his hair was his natural color, whereas mine was currently hot pink.
“Whatcha got there?” he asked, reaching a long, tanned arm in to loosen the straps holding the trunk tight to the tailgate. He touched the box with his elbow and jerked back, rubbing it. “Oh, wow. Seriously, what is that?”
I drew my brows together and rushed around the truck to him. “We found it buried out on the shoals. Why? What happened?”
He shook his head as if to clear it. “Nothing really. There’s just some serious juju in there, and not the good kind, I don’t think. It was buried?”
Eli nodded. “The storm must have shifted the sand enough for our detectors to find it. We’ve scoured those shoals a hundred times. For what it’s worth, I got the same feeling.”
“Is Dad here?” I asked as Eli and Jacob pulled the trunk from the bed of the truck.
“Nope,” Jake replied. “He went up the coast to St. Pete to meet a potential client. He won’t be back until day after tomorrow at the earliest because he decided to go on up to Panama City. His buddies up there stumbled onto some stuff at an estate sale that they asked him to look at. Paintings and whatnot.”
My father was respected not just around the area but around the world for his knowledge of arcane artifacts and unusual antiques, and it wasn’t unusual for him the be gone for a few days or even a week out of every month on such excursions. The timing for such a trip was a pain this time, but it was what it was.
I walked ahead of them and opened the back door. “Let’s get it inside, then. I’m sure between the three of us, we can figure something out.” I turned to Larry, who’d stayed in the truck. “You sure you don’t want to come in?”
He waved me off, disappointment etched on his face. “I’d love to, but I’m already pushin’ it with my time. Maris’ll skin me if I’m not there on time in the mornin’, and I told Ace down at the bait shop that I’d help him empty his tanks this evenin’. Y’all go ahead, but send me those pictures.”
“Sure thing,” I said, smiling. “Thanks for taking us out and for the ride home. See you when you get back.”
I held the back door to the shop open while the guys finagled the trunk through it. There were way too many people around to risk magicking it in.
“Wow, whatever’s in here is heavy,” Jake said, groaning as they set it down on the floor beside my workbench.
My brother brushed his hands off then took a couple steps back to examine the trunk. Just like the rest of us, he was well-versed in antiques.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Eighteenth-century at the latest? It’s a little hard to tell because it’s so plain.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. If it were from much later than that, it would probably have some travel stamps on it.” I traced my fingers along the edges. “The problem is that even if we knew exactly when the trunk was made, there’s no way to tell when it was sunk. It could have been brand new when it went down, or it could have been in somebody’s family for ages.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and tried to call my dad again. Just as before, it went straight to voicemail. I snapped a couple pictures of the trunk and texted them to him along with a brief message telling him where I’d found it. Sighing, I hit send.
“Dad’s still not answering?” Jake asked.
Eli flapped a hand at me. “He’s probably in a meeting or going through a dead spot. You know how spotty service can be along some of those backwoods roads up there.”
“Why’s it so important for you to talk to Dad?” Jake asked, leaning against the corner of a wooden shelf stuffed full of all sorts of antique trinkets. “Unless I’m mistaken, he put you in charge of cursed items for one reason: you’re better at it than any of us. Even him, and he knows it.”
He had a point. Even if I did manage to get ahold of Dad, he’d just tell me to do my thing. So, I did.
“Stand back,” I said, then closed my eyes and pulled my magic to my fingers. I uttered a reveal spell and was surprised to find that though there was a protection spell on the trunk, I didn’t pick up so much as a whiff of any sort of curse. I carefully unwound it, then checked it again before I gave a decisive nod. “The trunk’s clean. No magic left on it.”
Eli’s face lit up like a kid’s at Christmas and Jake rubbed his hands together.
“Okay, then,” my brother said, his green eyes sparkling with excitement. “Let’s see what booty y’all found.”
He pulled a set of lock picks from one of the cubbies above the worktable and squatted down in front of the chest. We were both a fair hand at picking locks—a skill that came in handy when you dealt with old jewelry boxes, diaries, and chests that required keys that were long gone, but he was much better at it than I was.
I held my breath as he stuck the picks in, and Eli squeezed my hand, every bit as anxious as I was to finally see what was in the trunk. After just a few seconds, a metallic click sounded, and Jake grinned with satisfaction as he lifted the lid.
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but it wasn’t what I saw. Jake sucked in a breath as the afternoon sun glinted off a strange array of pieces that just didn’t go together at all. It was like somebody had just dumped random stuff into the box. It was hard to take it all in at once, but the first items that jumped out at me were a tarnished silver gravy boat, a man’s pocket watch, an old oil lantern, and—weirdly enough—an antique copper bed warmer.
Eli glanced at me, his brow furrowed. “That’s a strange mix of stuff, isn’t it?”
I nodded as Jake placed both his hands over the box and muttered a spell. Golden magic glowed from his palms, pulsing a little before it turned to wisps and snaked down into the box. I started to stop him because I was worried, but he shook his head. As bad as we both hated to admit it sometimes, we did have that weird mental twin bond going, and I suspected it was even stronger than most because we were magical. It wasn’t like we could read each other’s minds; it was more like sometimes we just knew what the other was thinking.
While he did his thing, Eli and I stepped closer to get a better look at the contents. The edge of a purple velvet bag peeked up from beneath the bedwarmer, and my heart skipped a little. Based on the age of the other items, something in a bag like that was likely valuable. My gaze wandered over more of the contents: an ornate silver mirror, a small wooden jewelry box, and a tortoiseshell snuff box. There were simply too many items to list. All in all, there had to be at least thirty or forty pieces of miscellaneous household items, jewelry, and personal items stuffed in there.
The glow subsided from Jake’s hands and he rocked back on flip-flop-clad heels and pushed to a standing position, his face twisted in thought.
“Well?” Eli asked, more impatient than I was. “Did you find anything?”
Jake nodded, confusion giving way to concern. “More than one thing, actually, and none of it good. They all
seem to hold a different type of magic.”
I blew a breath out between my cheeks and shook my head. “Then I’ll have to go over each piece. I don’t have the headspace for that today, and I don’t want to get partway through and have to quit because I get tired. I’ll do it in the morning. I need to clear some space anyway, so I’ll go over the stuff I promised Willow I’d get to so she can take everything out front. Then I’ll have plenty of room to unpack it all without mixing it in with items we already had.”
“Need some help?” Eli asked, but I shook my head.
“Nah,” I replied, my attention still on the items in the trunk. The longer I looked, the more I found, and I hated that I wasn’t going to be able to get to it immediately. Still, I wanted to keep them all separate and also make sure that I didn’t accidentally leave any trace of magic behind, so it was best to get the other items out of the way first and start with a clear head the next morning. “You go do your thing. Didn’t you promise your mom you’d have dinner with her?”
“Yeah,” he said, sighing and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his board shorts. “And I’ve already put her off once this week. She’s going to get a complex if I do it again.”
“Pfft,” Jake said, bumping Eli with his elbow. “You love your mom. She’s awesome, and you know it. Shoot, if you don’t want to go to dinner with her, I will. Is she cooking or are you going out?”
“She’s cooking. Shrimp risotto.”
My mouth watered at the thought. Eli’s mom was one of the hippest people I knew, and an amazing cook. She wasn’t one of those moms who tried to be cool; she was just naturally that way. As an earth witch, she was in tune with the world around her, and it showed. She had a heart the size of Texas, but, like Eli, she had a temper. She was kind, but she was nobody’s doormat.
“Why are we standing here, then?” I asked, only half-joking. “Why aren’t we all headed to your place?” Sophia’s risotto was legendary.