"Be sure to tell yer man that the marshmallow was an experiment. I haven't had a lick of ‘em yet so I expect feedback."
"Will do."
I crossed the street and headed inside the food hall at Fallon & Byrne, my mind filled with questions. As I passed the fine artisan foods and deli counters, my stomach growled again, reminding me that I still needed to shop for Leslie’s birthday dinner. What to make? I swiveled, taking in the fresh fish, sinful cakes, and fine cheeses, and bee-lined it for the Butchers counter. The spicy mexican chorizo sausage would be fabulous in a macaroni-and-cheese casserole. Then I headed to the cheese counter for some peppercorn jack and sharp cheddar. I thought about wandering down to the cellar where they kept an unrivalled selection of wines but my own racks were stocked, and besides I really needed to get back to the store.
Both arms were full as I left the market, and I once again found myself pondering what Móraí would be doing outside Sandra Brun’s place. Before I knew it I was back at the corner of Wicklow and William Street and I saw that blasted Raven flying away from Mysterious Adventures in Ink. The front door was ajar and an uneasy sensation started to grow.
Somethings wrong.
Unease blossomed into fear and I almost dropped the groceries.
“Alana!” I shouted as I stepped inside.
No reply.
Books had been yanked off of shelves and scattered everywhere—entire book stands knocked over.
This had happen once before; my home in Toronto had been ransacked by my brother-in-law on his quest for my sapphire. I’d been knocked unconscious in the process. My heart wept at the realization that someone could pierce my peaceful bubble once again, but that man was dead so this couldn’t be related.
Alana.
I ran, noting as I went that the only area left untouched in the store was the newest section. It had been picked over but not desecrated like the rest of the store.
Before I could reach the backroom, Alana emerged.
“Alana?” I whispered.
I felt a wave of relief so strong that I almost sank to my knees as I wrapped my arms around her.
“You okay?” I asked, though I could see that she was.
“Sure. Why?” She pulled away. “What happened?”
“Someone ransacked the place. The store’s a mess. You didn’t hear anything?”
She shook her head. “I was just finishin’ up with the old inventory.”
“How long were you out there? Why weren’t you checking on the storefront?”
I led the way to the front door, glancing up and down the street as if I could identify the guilty party.
“I was listenin’ for the bell,” Alana responded in a defensive tone, “I don’t know how I could have missed all this.”
“I don’t know how, either,” I said, a touch snarky. “But thank god you did—maybe we need to get your hearing checked.”
I had threatened that a million times over the years, although I’d never really meant it. Alana, like all other children and husbands, seemed to have selective hearing. This time I was serious.
As the clock slowly ticked toward the closing hour, we crouched and gathered together the random books that had been scattered. I felt anger, rage… and then an out-of-control fear as I remembered the spell book.
My heart pounded.
I remained still for a moment, thinking…then I placed my hand on Alana’s shoulder, “Sweetie. Could you go check my desk and just make sure nothings missing?”
“Mum, I was back there the whole time.”
“I know. Just humor me, in case you were in the washroom or something.”
As soon as Alana disappeared into the back, I hurried to the corner of the store.
I found the book hidden just where I’d left it, in my Gigi’s Grandfather clock. It was giving off a strange vibration. There was something going on and it was time for me to take a look through it once again. The book would tell me what was happening—as long as I was willing to open it.
“What’s that, Mum?”
“Nothing,” I said, quickly shoving it into my satchel.
“The desk looks fine. Still very neat.”
“All right then. Must have been some kids having some fun because nothing is missing. Let’s get this place put back together.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police or Da?” Alana asked.
I paused for a minute, thinking it over. The police hadn’t been much help the last time. A security system and camera would probably be a better idea going forward.
“No. They didn’t break anything. Let’s just clean up and get home. I have to get dinner started. Oh, and don’t say anything to your Da and Leslie at dinner. I’ll tell them later.”
Chapter Thirty
Dash of Rebellion
The house smelled of cheese, onion and garlic. The mouthwatering aromas reminded me of Gigi which I was sure would make Leslie happy. I wanted my best friend’s birthday dinner to be special so I’d also stuffed the wine cellar full of her favorite booze and sweets, and filled half a dozen mason jars with daisies, and snapdragons. I’d also prepared enough food to feed an army, which realistically was equivalent to one Leslie.
“Stop drooling in the pan,” I ordered Cullen, as I chopped up watermelon for the agua fresca.
In the absence of Leslie, Cullen was serving as my salivating sous chef. Much like Leslie, he kept sneaking bites of the spicy sausage when he thought I wasn’t looking, only his enthusiastic way of sneaking bites kept leaving drippings on the kitchen counter. Even still, it was plain old fun to have him as a companion to cook with.
After trying to block Cullen’s last attempt, He had wrapped me in a bear hug and now had me on the floor tickling me. Typical Cullen behavior. I was squealing so hard with laughter, we barely heard the doorbell ring.
“The birthday girl is here,” Alana said, walking into the kitchen with Leslie trailing. “Ah, here! Do ye guys ever quit?”
“Set the table, please,” I called out.
“You two grossing your daughter out again?” Leslie said, with a wink.
“By the holy, it doesn’t take much these days,” Cullen announced proudly. “Someday she’ll miss us.”
“Yeah I will,” Alana called back, to the clatter of plates. “I’m puttin’ the two of ye in an old-age home, first chance I get.”
“No dinner for you,” I yelled.
“I’m staying on your good side, then,” Leslie said and breathed in loudly through her nose. “Like heaven. I’m famished.”
“Ditto,” said Cullen.
“Right,” I said, giving him the evil eye. “Hopefully Cullen’s left us some.”
“What can I get you, Les? There’s beer, wine or some fruity water—it’s nonalcoholic,” Cullen said, making a gag face.
“It’s watermelon agua fresca,” I corrected, “and it’s delicious but you know Leslie will have the Shiraz with me.”
“Bossy,” Leslie said.
“Oh, sorry. What do you want?”
“Shiraz.” She grinned.
“How was your date?”
“Umm…it was good.”
“Come on. Give me some details here,” I pushed, casually wiping out wineglasses the size of fish bowls. “It was that silver fox, right? The one you were talking to the day Deirdre got hurt.”
Leslie smiled. “Peter. Yes. His name is Peter.”
“What does he do?”
“He works in a museum…in London.”
“Really. That’s a little far for a relationship, isn’t it?”
Leslie shrugged. “It was just lunch. Anyway, can we talk about something else.”
“Fine. You’ll never guess what happened to me today.”
“Um…you were kidnapped from work and hypnotized by that nutcase friend of yours?”
“No,” I said, as I poured the wine. “Well, it does have to do with her.”
“I knew it,” she said. “Tell me more.”
“First, Móraí cam
e into the bookstore and we had a confrontation about her new interest in witchcraft and pagan customs.” I stopped and looked up, “Do you know she actually belongs to a coven?”
“So?”
“What do you mean, ‘so?”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little hypocritical? You own a magical sapphire, a spell book and you’ve used magic to time travel.”
“Hey! Shhh…” I said casting my eyes about the kitchen. “Alana’s in the next room, and you haven’t even heard the whole story.”
“Sorry.” She whispered. “I just don’t get why you’ve got such a stick up your butt when it comes to magic all of a sudden.”
“It’s different. I inherited that stuff. It was a curse. I’m not a witch.” I swallowed, thinking everything that was coming out of my mouth did sound rather judgmental. “Honestly, though, it’s Móraí. She rubs me the wrong way,” I clarified. “I don’t have anything against Wiccans or covens.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Yeah,” I said and dumped the large pan of oven roasted broccoli into a serving bowl. It was heavy. I had really made a lot of everything. I wiped my brow and took a swig of my wine.
Leslie bent down to pet Daphne. “Good, because I joined a coven, too.”
“You what?” I said, dribbling wine down my chin. Luckily we were in the kitchen and I was close to the paper towel rack.
“Thought you were okay with it,” she said and grinned.
“You should cause you ARE such a witch,” I snarled, realizing she was teasing me.
We sat down to our feast in the dining room, and I finished my story about Móraí.
“So how do you think they know each other?”
Even now, after dwelling on it all afternoon, I was still puzzled. Had I mentioned Móraí to Sandra at one time or vice versa? No, I was sure I hadn’t.
I shook my head while pouring more hot sauce on a healthy serving of spicy mac and cheese. “I don’t know.”
“Why are you always so accusatory?” Alana questioned, butting in. “Maybe they just bumped into each other. Not everything is all sinister.”
I glared at Cullen. She’d clearly gotten that line from him and I still recalled him saying it to me right before his brother tried to kill me.
“Well, Alana, sometimes things are that sinister and not everyone has good intentions. I learned that the hard way.”
“‘Tis strange to be sure,” Cullen said as he passed around the loaf of sourdough, which I had warmed in the oven, along with fresh butter from the farmers’ market. “But Móraí had just left the bookstore and ye said that lady lives down the street. Isn’t it likely she was just shoppin’ or hailin’ a cab and what ye saw could have been somethin’ innocent or nonchalant—‘nice weather we’re havin’’ or ‘do you have the bloody time?”
“No. I’m sorry but I cannot ignore my gut feelings anymore. As a matter of fact, I don’t think Alana should visit Móraí until you speak to her. Not after what she threatened me with this afternoon.”
“What do you mean, she threatened you?” Cullen said.
“This broccoli so good,” Leslie said, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m going to have to roll home.”
I, myself, had barely eaten.
“She…” I realized I should have spoken to Cullen in private. I had only to look at the faces of both Cullen and Alana to know the volcano was about to explode.
“She wanted to take Alana to one of her coven meetings and I said no. I told her she wasn’t allowed to teach Alana anything else to do with magic either.”
“Are ye serious?” Alana gasped. “How do ye have the right? I’m sixteen years old.”
“Exactly, young lady. You’re sixteen years old.”
“So, that was the threat?” Cullen asked.
I shook my head. I sensed he was on the fence about which one of us was over reacting.
“She told me that she would go behind my back if I didn’t let Alana join her coven.”
“Is everyone ready to sing to me? Happy Birthday…” Leslie sing-songed out in an exaggerated fashion. “Man, I could use some cake…”
“Yeah, let’s get this over with. I’ll get the cupcakes,” Alana grunted, pushing her chair away from the table.
I slammed my hand down a little too hard and sent a spoon flying. “Alana, the cupcakes were supposed to be a surprise.”
“Sorry,” Alana said, her voice fierce. “I thought the break-in was the only secret I was keepin’ today, didn’t realize the cupcakes were hush-hush as well.”
“Break-in?” Cullen questioned.
“Oops,” Alana said, throwing her napkin on her plate.
“I’m confused.” Leslie shook her head, looking down into her wine as though looking for the exit.
“Alana, just go to your room if you don’t want to be here.”
“Móraí is right about ye.”
“Alana—” Cullen began.
“No, Da. Ye know it’s true.” She turned back to me. “Ye don’t want me to grow up, but all ye’re doin’ is makin’ me want to get the hell out of here even more—”
“Don’t get cute, Alana! We’ve had quite enough of yer backchat today.” Cullen said with uncharacteristic anger. “Ye owe your mother an apology.”
“I don’t want a forced apology—” I said, getting up from the table.
“Good, ‘cause ye’ll not get one from me,” Alana interrupted. She turned and stomped up the stairs until we heard the slam of her bedroom door.
Leslie sighed. “She certainly does know how to make an exit, doesn’t she?”
I tried to return Leslie’s smile, but couldn’t.
I poured myself another glass of wine and stepped out onto the terrace to enjoy the fresh air. It was a perfect evening, weather wise—personal-life wise, not so much.
The plants looked phenomenal and I was reminded of Gigi’s gardens. She’d always made me and Leslie tend to them, laughing admittedly that she wasn’t very good at gardening. Natural green thumbs was what she’d called us—not that I knew what that meant—turning soil, planting, watering and pulling weeds was therapeutic to me, just like reading. I picked up my gardening shears and started deadheading roses, then pruned the dwarf cherry.
I’d never realized until reading up on Móraí’s garden that so many flowers and herbs I grew were used in spells: foxglove, yarrow, even water parsnips. If I’d wanted to, I probably could have worked the spells in Rochus’s book a long time ago and if it were up to Leslie we definitely would have. She was always ready to dig in to that book. Speak of the devil, she wrapped her arms around me from behind and hugged me tight. “Don’t let Alana upset you. She’s a little hypersensitive on the issue of her grandmother.”
“I know. I’m going to write her a letter—it helps when I get my thoughts down on paper. I just can’t help but think that Móraí and maybe even Sandra and her husband are up to something. I wish I could figure it out. Something about Móraí’s garden is bugging me…oh my gosh—that reminds me: remember the time we tried to write that love spell?”
“So that Dale would fall head over heels in love with me and hold my hand at lunch. How could I forget?” Leslie said, going into a full giggle.
“Little did we know, we had all the ingredients in Gigi’s garden.”
“That’s right. You’ve been reading that book I gave you.”
“Among many,” I answered. “I guess you were unknowingly interested in being a witch even back then, huh?”
Leslie smirked. “Oh, as if I was the only one who wore black nail polish and played Ouija.”
I shivered. “Knowing everything we know now…I can’t believe we didn’t call up trouble, messing around with that thing.”
“Really, eh. Nice birthday present for a kid. Who got it for you anyway?”
I thought hard but couldn’t recall.
“I’m sorry we ruined your birthday.”
Leslie stiffened. “That’s ridiculous. You guys are my family and figh
ting—even to the point of temper tantrums—is a part of being family. I’d rather be surrounded by all of you than be alone.”
Tears came to my eyes.
Alana and I took each other for granted. Leslie didn’t have any blood family—she’d lived in the foster system until Gigi took her in.
We were inseparable after that.
“You are just as much a part of this family as any of us,” I said, leaning my head against hers.
“So, what’s this about a break-in?”
“The store got vandalized today.”
“What?”
“While I was at the grocery store when Alana was in there alone.”
“Who did it?”
“I don’t know. She was in the back and she says she didn’t hear anything.”
“You think she did it?”
“No. I definitely don’t but I do think she’s forgetting something—whether on purpose or by accident—and there’s only one person she’d get this defensive over.”
“Why would Móraí ransack our store? Plus, you said you saw her getting into that cab.”
“Maybe she saw me, too; maybe the vandalism was meant to be a threat. I don’t really know. It just doesn’t make sense to me that nothing was stolen. It had to be a message.”
“I think I know a way to find out.”
“Really?”
“Scrying.”
“Like crystal-ball, magic-mirror scrying?”
“I’ve been practicing for a week and ever since I’ve been having these weird dreams. I think I was a really important witch in another life.”
I shook my head. What was getting into everyone lately? “All right, well, all-powerful birthday witch, you do whatever it is you do and call me if you figure it out. This day has been unbearably long so I’m going to read a book and go to bed.”
I hugged her goodbye but she pulled back and gripped my shoulders, holding my gaze. “You of all people should believe in this.”
“I believe in my magic, Leslie. I just don’t know if I believe any ordinary person off the street can pick up a book on witchcraft and become an all-seeing witch.”
“Well, I’m not ordinary, and besides, tonight is the summer solstice.”
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