Pentacle Pawn Boxed Set

by Amanda Hartford

  We were emerging at the base of a creosote bush. The edge of the cliff was behind me; ahead of me, flat desert ran to the foot of the mountains on the horizon.

  “Can you see anything?” Barry whispered.

  I could, and my heart sank. I saw Penelope a dozen feet ahead of me, dressed for the cold in a hoodie and boots, her back to me. The winged dinosaurs were nowhere in sight.

  The Jeep that Penelope had stolen from Alex’s garage in Gold Canyon sat on a small rise a quarter of a mile away. She had set up a folding table at the edge of the cliff to use as a workbench. The far end held a camp stove; the heady aroma of her bubbling coffee made my mouth water. At the near end of the table, I saw a littering of loose papers, a coffee mug, a grease-soaked take-out bag, a couple of spellbooks, and a leather case and, beside it, a small transparent plastic bin containing a knob of bone and a rosewood box.

  From the experiments that Daisy and I had performed, a well-crafted unlocking spell could align the cones in those puzzle balls in seconds. I had to assume that Penelope had done the same experiments and come to the same conclusion. She could work both puzzle balls in seconds – and the sky would be filled with dragons.

  There was no time for elaborate plans. I needed to get my hands on one or both of those puzzle balls if my friends and I were going to have any chance of coming out of this alive.

  But then what?

  It would come down to which one of us had created the most effective unlocking spell. Whoever gets her dragon airborne first, wins.

  I was about to take on one of the most powerful witches in this part of the world. I’m pretty good, but my skills are very much specialized to my trade. Taking on Penelope would be like getting into the ring with Muhammad Ali: I might get in a punch or two, but it was just a matter of time before one of her killer blows smashed me to the mat.

  I’d have to rely on something much more boring. I was hoping that, for once, my penchant for paperwork would give me the advantage.

  Bottom line: Penelope was working with stolen property. She owned her unlocking spell, but I owned the puzzle balls themselves, and back at Pentacle Pawn I have the documents to prove it. I had given Emil Portiere a crisp dollar bill when he consigned the large puzzle ball to me. Mark had delivered another dollar bill to Violet’s lawyer when he picked up the keys to her California home. The law was on my side.

  I was hoping the dragons saw it that way.

  First, though, I needed to reclaim a dragon ball. Both cases were right there, out in plain sight on the end of Penelope’s worktable waiting for me to snatch one.

  There wouldn’t be time for both Barry and me to climb out before Penelope spotted us. I waved my hands frantically next to my knees, signaling to Barry to stay down in the cleft. Mark and Alex were still far below him, slowly climbing the rock staircase. My friends would have to emerge one at a time – and when they did, they would be out in the open, with a live dinosaur circling above their heads. I would have to handle this alone.

  As the first rays of the sunlight crested of the ridge, Penelope opened Emil’s case and lifted out the large puzzle ball. She held it up to the rising sun, as an ancient priestess might have offered a sacrifice. She was chanting.

  I made my move. I blasted out of the cleft at a dead run. In a couple of steps, I was next to Penelope’s table.

  Penelope was ready to fight, but her movements were hampered by the precious objects in her hand. If the Goddess smiled and the stars aligned, that might buy me a few precious seconds while Penelope hesitated long enough to secure Emil’s puzzle ball in its case.

  Penelope spun to block me, but I wasn’t after the leather-bound case. Penelope had already started her unlocking spell, and I had no intention of trying to unwind it on the run. I wanted the plastic bin.

  At the last minute, Penelope realized what I was after and changed course, but it was too late. I grabbed my prize and dove for the creosote bush.

  Penelope’s yellow dragon was high above the canyon now, rotating his body as he let the sun warm his leathery wings. Penelope shot another plasma ball into the air, and her dragon turned nose to tail and dove straight at the ground. I saw the pteranodon disappear into the canyon, below my line of sight. I was already mumbling the unlocking rhyme as I slid into the cleft. Above me, I heard Penelope scream in frustration. Her footfalls were running my way.

  I threw my best protective ward across the top of the cleft. It was not going to stop her, but it might slow her down. This was a game of seconds, and I needed every one of them I could get.

  I held the ivory ball in the palm of my hand and, as fast as I could, I recited the little rhyme that Daisy and I had crafted. All of the layers of Violet’s puzzle began rotating at once. The ball grew warm in my hand.

  “What’s going on?” Barry hissed below me.

  I reached into the bin and handed him the chunk of bone. “Here,” I said, “see if you can get a chip off of this.”

  I was fresh out of quills and chopsticks, so I had nothing to drop into the cones as they lined up. Turns out, it didn’t matter. The ball vibrated gently in my hand as each layer aligned. The ball went still, and I was looking through the cones into the puzzle’s empty core.

  I couldn’t see what Penelope was up to, only a few feet above me, but I could guess. A moment later, a vast translucent yellow wing swept past the base of the cleft.

  I started reciting as I emerged from the cleft, but this time it was no exotic spell or incantation. I had signed so many pawn documents over the years that I knew the dry legal language by heart.

  Below me, I heard Barry banging something against the bone. When I looked down, I saw him smashing at it with the hilt of his elkhorn-handled pocketknife. Two blows later, he reached up and handed me a bone sliver. “Here you go,” he drawled. “Will this work?”

  We’d find out soon enough. I took the sliver and dropped it through the cones, into the center of Violet’s dragon puzzle ball.

  The reaction was immediate. A sphere of white plasma crackled to life at the core of the puzzle and floated into the air. I tossed Violet’s carved ivory ball up, out of the cleft, in what I hoped was Penelope’s direction. I didn’t want that pteranodon materializing in my hand.

  I’d guessed right. Above me, I heard Penelope scream again, this time in fear. When I popped my head above the rim, I saw her scrambling back on hands and knees, my orange dragon towering above her on its hind legs, its wings spread wide.

  Fly, I willed it.

  And it flew. My plasma ball rose into the sky and arced out over the canyon, the rock walls reverberating with the sonic boom; the orange pteranodon followed it, missing Penelope’s head by inches as it flapped its wings and launched off the cliff.

  ♦

  I heard Mark shout far below us. I peered over the toes of my running shoes, down past Barry. The sunlight that had been streaming in at the bottom of the cleft was now blocked. The yellow dragon had wedged itself like a bat in the cleft, wings folded tight against the body. It was climbing.

  Mark and Alex were moving a lot faster now. Finding the business end of a pteranodon a dozen feet beneath you will do that.

  “Do something!” Barry yelled.

  Penelope raised her arm, and a plasma ball the color of a bruise rose into the sky. The yellow dragon rose accordingly. It unfurled its wings with a snap as it flung itself out of the cleft and followed the beacon up.

  I’d visualized my white plasma ball hovering at the level of the rim, in the center of the canyon – and, to my amazement, there it was. Even better, the violet one that controlled the yellow pteranodon was there with it. They circled each other like binary stars.

  Penelope stood watching them at the edge of the cliff, her back to me. She had gone very still.

  I grabbed up Violet’s puzzle ball and, reciting my unlocking spell backward as fast as I could, I ran for Penelope’s worktable. Thank you, Daisy, I thought, for making me practice. By the time I got there, both puzzles had spun the
mselves out of alignment and no longer glowed or vibrated. I carefully placed the balls in their cases and locked the lids shut.

  The pteranodons were still out there over the canyon, playfully orbiting the plasma balls like planets.

  Violet’s orange dragon, obeying my mental command, floated to the rim of the canyon and sat obediently, the claws at the joints of its folded wings resting forward on the ground.

  As I prepared to bring the yellow Dragon in, a movement right at the edge of my peripheral vision caught my eye. I spun around to see Orion’s black truck crest the rise.

  It all happened at once. Orion slammed the truck to a stop, flinging up a fishtail of sand and gravel. Lissa was out before he stopped, running in our direction. I heard Lissa scream “Mother!”

  Penelope was running, too, but not in greeting. Without her spell to control the pteranodons, Penelope had gone from predator to prey. She was waving her arms above her head, screaming at her daughter: “Go back! Go back!”

  The puzzle balls had been disabled, but the pteranodons were still circling the plasma spheres. I realized what was happening: the plasma balls were the remote controls, still directing the actions of those flying dinosaurs. I closed my eyes and concentrated, trying to shut them down.

  I wasn’t fast enough. I got the orange one, I guess because it was smaller. I focused on the ball, not the pteranodon, and pictured myself shutting off a wall switch.

  The orange dragon threw its head back and looked up at the sky at the last moment, perhaps taking in the sunlight for one last time before the white plasma ball disappeared in a puff of mist. The orange dragon vanished with it.

  The violet sphere was fading, too. The yellow dragon seemed to lose interest and wheeled away. I watched it make a long, lazy circle around the rim of the canyon and head back in our direction. It was diving straight at Lissa.

  Penelope and the dinosaur reached Lissa at the same time. The pteranodon’s enormous mouth was open, its jagged teeth glinting in the sun. The last second, Penelope shot a bolt of energy at her daughter that sent Lissa flying backward. Penelope was now standing where Lissa had been, and there was no time to move out of the way.

  The yellow dragon grasped Penelope in its jaws and soared out over the canyon.

  I should have been working on that other plasma ball, but I was frozen in place. All I could do was stare as the yellow dragon carried Penelope over the rise and disappeared.

  ♦

  We scoured the desert, but we found no sign of Penelope. We believed that the yellow pteranodon was gone for good, once I had finished removing the blue plasma sphere. At least, that’s what we were telling ourselves. I knew it would be back in our dreams.

  Search and rescue teams were on their way to pick up Asia; Barry had gone to meet them. Lissa was inconsolable, and Orion had taken her back to their temporary mansion on the hill for the night.

  Before they left the massacre ground, Alex and Mark had taken pains to tidy up. Mark had scooped up the contents of Penelope’s worktable and secured the puzzle balls in the back of the Range Rover. Our first priority when we got back to town would be to get those balls bedded down in my vault again, ready for the executors of Emil’s and Violet’s estates to take possession.

  Alex had a key for the Jeep on his own key ring – after all, it was his vehicle. I rode with Mark in the Range Rover, and Alex followed as we drove back around the mountain to Gold Canyon.

  We were sipping Alex’s good Scotch whiskey and bringing Daisy up to speed when there was a loud explosion nearby. We all dove for cover, leaving Daisy alone on the couch looking a little bewildered.

  Far below us, down at the mouth of Gold Canyon, someone in one of the mansions on the side of the cliff was shooting off fireworks. I’d forgotten that it was still the Fourth of July weekend.

  When I got home, John and I were going to set off some fireworks of our own.

  After

  Asia’s leg was in a walking cast when the brewery opened for business a week later. She was supposed to stay off of it – advice, of course, cheerfully ignored. She was tending bar when I walked in.

  Barry loved Asia, and he loved the idea of a beer he could drink without a hangover. He just didn’t like her beer. She didn’t take it personally. She “got him,” like nobody else ever had. She kept a case of mass-produced swill in the cooler at all times, just for him.

  As we chatted, Asia picked up Barry’s empties and handed him another longneck. When she bent over, I noticed that Asia’s karambit was back in place on her belt. Barry pried the beer cap off with his elkhorn-handled pocketknife. He looked up adoringly into Asia’s eyes – he had no choice, since she was a head taller –and she smiled back at him indulgently. There’s an old joke about taking a knife to a gunfight, but with these two, I’d never bet against them.

  I brought a pitcher of Asia’s beer over to the window table where Daisy and Stella sat chatting and topped up their frosty mugs. The beer had a lovely honey color and a flavor I couldn’t quite identify but loved instantly. A cowboy band started their set on the bandstand, the dance floor filled with people. Asia had herself a winner.

  Outside on the patio next to the sidewalk, Edgar perched on the back of a chair, bumming onion rings from Mark. They were deep in conversation. I couldn’t imagine what about, but I was sure Edgar would pick up some new vocabulary.

  I found Alex at a table by himself in the back, nursing a mug of Asia’s best dark ale.

  “Did the kids get off okay?” I asked.

  Alex smiled. “Stella took them to the airport this morning. Mark let them use the jet.”

  He turned serious. “Some hikers found Penelope’s body,” Alex said, keeping his voice low. “I didn’t tell Lissa – I didn’t want to ruin their honeymoon. Orion said we’ll all go together when I scatter Penelope’s ashes. There’s this hidden spring out in the White Tanks where we used to take Lissa when she was little.” Alex grimaced. “We were happy there.”

  I knew he was thinking of the last time he saw his wife, suspended high in the air in the pteranodon’s jaws as it flew out of the massacre grounds. “The sheriff’s department said that a mountain lion got her.”

  I didn’t know what to say. We knew different.

  Alex hugged me. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for everything.”

  ♦

  The alley shop doesn’t exist to the bureaucracy of the ordinary world, so we don’t get mail there. Utility bills and junk mail go to Bronwyn. She also accepts packages for me and then texts me so I can pick them up on my way into work.

  Two weeks after our little Fourth of July hike in the Superstitions, I felt well enough to get back to work. John was hovering. It’s like that old joke about I love you for better or worse but not for lunch. If John ever figures out how to leave our condo, I’m not sure what I’ll do.

  Edgar was still sunning himself on his manzanita branch out on the balcony when I scooped Frank up in the middle of his nap, shoved him into the cat carrier and made the excuse that I had to take him back to Pentacle Pawn.

  Since the Fourth of July, Frank and Edgar had been avoiding making eye contact with each other. Frank was painfully aware that it was Edgar who had carried the message that saved me. I figured he was embarrassed.

  Will he be joining us? Frank asked. I had no doubt who he was.

  “Probably,” I told Frank. “You understand that he doesn’t belong to us? Edgar is a wild creature. He does as he pleases.”

  Frank was silent inside his car carrier until the door admitted us to Pentacle Pawn. Frank made a careful circuit of the shop before he finally settled down under the counter. It felt strange to me, too. So much had happened, but so much was the same. Normal was going to take a while.

  That bird, Frank said as I released him from his cat carrier.

  I held my breath. Here it comes, I thought.

  That bird, Frank repeated as he disappeared into his cubbyhole. He’s all right.

  I nearly stumbled over
my own feet. For Frank, that was total capitulation. I’d take it.

  ♦

  There were two items in the mail that day. The first was an old-fashioned postcard with wavy edges proclaiming “Greetings from Greece!” The front showed the whitewashed walls and blue dome roofs of Santorini.

  The back of the postcard was handwritten: Wish you were here! Love, Lissa and Orion.

  I laughed out loud. It had been a long-running joke between Orion and me: people writing “Wish you were here!” when we all knew that they were delighted to finally be off by themselves. I was sure he’d put Lissa up to it.

  I dropped the postcard into my purse, and the door had just admitted me to the alley shop when my messaging app dinged.

  Santorini is full of surprises, Lissa texted.

  I’ll bet, I thought.

  She had attached a selfie of herself and Orion, arms around each other, on the balcony of a beautiful villa. Below them was almost the same view as on the postcard, with the Aegean sparkling like a brilliant sapphire at the foot of the cliff. I knew that this was Orion’s ancestral home. By now, Lissa knew it, too.

  Around Lissa’s finger was a silver ring set with a huge blue pearl – the one that Orion swore had come from Atlantis. I smiled to myself. I wondered if he’d told her yet about the yacht. Those two were going to have an interesting life together.

  My mind went back to John, waiting patiently at home for me. The years after he was murdered had been the worst of my life, and the best day ever was when he came back to me. We were in for some interesting times ourselves, John and me, but we’d get through them together.

  So we bind ourselves in battle; so we bind ourselves in love.

  – The End –

  A note from Amanda

  If you enjoyed this Pentacle Pawn boxed set, please tell a friend – or two or three.

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