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Magic & Mischief

Page 15

by Annabel Chase


  “I planned my whole future with him,” she sobbed. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  I sighed. This was one subject I had experience with. “Yard by yard, life is hard. Inch by inch, life is a cinch.”

  She flipped up her eye mask and looked at me. “What kind of human mumbo jumbo is that?”

  I shrugged. “It got me through a lot of dark days.”

  Everly took a renewed interest in me. “What kind of dark days?”

  “My husband died a few years ago and I became a single mother in the blink of an eye. No warning. No time to prepare. One day he kissed me goodbye and never came home.” I snapped my fingers. “Life as we knew it was over. My daughter wants me to date, but I haven’t been able to move on.”

  Everly gaped at me. “Glitter and gold, that’s terrible.”

  I ignored the ache in my heart. “Life can be terrible sometimes. We have no control. But you know what? Life can also be amazing.”

  “How can you say that?” she asked, visibly shaken. “Your husband died. You had your whole lives ahead of you to share.”

  “That’s the terrible part,” I agreed. “But then, one day out of the blue, three ridiculously gorgeous people showed up in my apartment with crazy magical powers and saved my life.” I snapped my fingers again. “Just like that, everything changed for the better. That’s the amazing part.”

  She pulled her knees up to her chest. “I have a rainbow over my house. That’s pretty amazing.”

  “It really is. How’d you do it?”

  “Fairy magic,” she said. “I taught myself. It’s a difficult spell. A lot of my friends are totally jealous.”

  So she was a fairly talented fairy. It was time for my big question, though I hated to ask. She seemed so vulnerable right now.

  “You haven’t been doing any magic while you’re under emotional strain, have you?”

  “Gods, no,” she replied. “I can barely get out of bed in the morning. I haven’t showered in…” She bit her lip. “Never mind.”

  “You’re a beautiful fairy, Everly. You’ll meet someone else,” I said. “Someone who values you and your relationship.”

  “You can’t promise that,” Everly replied. “Look at you. You’re pretty for a witch, although a little substandard for a Rose, and you’ve been single for years.”

  “By choice,” I said. “I could have had opportunities if I’d wanted them.” I thought of Alec in the back of the limo and the sheriff in his office.

  “Scott and I were perfect for each other,” she insisted. “I don’t understand how he could do this to me.”

  “I hate to say this, Everly, but sometimes we don’t get to understand why things happen. We just need to accept that they do.” Crap on a stick, that sounded profound coming out of my mouth. I must’ve read it somewhere.

  Everly muffled a cry. “I only wanted an explanation. He owes me that much after all we’ve shared together. We were supposed to be getting married. How can you not be honest with the fairy you supposedly love?”

  “You seem like an emotionally healthy fairy,” I said. Present circumstances aside. “It seems to me that maybe Scott doesn’t have your communication skills. He copes with issues in a different way.”

  “In a stupid way,” Everly grumbled.

  “No argument there,” I said. “Everly, you may have dodged a bullet with Scott. Unless he was willing to do some real work on himself, your marriage was doomed before it even began.”

  Slowly, she slid her eye mask over her head. “You really think so?”

  I nodded emphatically. “You need to find someone who doesn’t run for cover at the slightest whiff of a problem. Someone strong enough to come to you and talk through problems. Scott isn’t that person.”

  Everly sat up and sniffed. “Thanks, Ember. I hadn’t thought about it that way, but you’re right. It would have made it impossible to work through any issues. And what if we’d had kids by the time I wanted out?” She heaved a sigh. “What a blessing in disguise.”

  My work here was done. Everly clearly wasn’t the culprit and I’d helped her through a rough patch. Go me.

  “If you don’t mind,” she said, “I think I’d like to take a shower.”

  I gave her an encouraging smile. “I’ll show myself out.”

  As I left the White Oak neighborhood, I ran into—of all people—Milo Jarvis.

  “Miss Rose,” he greeted me, clearly embarrassed to see me again. It was understandable, considering I’d seen him naked. Come to think of it, I’d seen a lot of naked residents this month. Good thing I wasn’t a prude.

  “Hi, Milo. How’s Big Dreams?”

  “Terrific now that we have the funding from your family’s foundation.” His brow creased. “We did have a sad bit of news, though. One of our families lost their teenaged son. I’ve just come from paying my respects.” He shook his head. “Bless them. They’re really struggling.”

  “What happened?”

  “He’d been critically injured six months ago in a broomstick accident and we’d hoped he would pull through.” Milo sighed deeply. “In the end, his injures were too severe.”

  My stomach knotted. “A broomstick accident?” No way was I telling Marley about that guy. She’d never get on a broomstick again.

  “He wasn’t a wizard, if that’s what you’re wondering. He was an elf who’d been messing around with magic. He lacked the proper training for magic or broomsticks.”

  “Why did he want to ride a broomstick?” I asked.

  “Apparently, it was the result of a dare. He’d been with friends, drinking too much ale in the woods. One of them thought it would be funny to swipe a broomstick from a witch’s house.”

  My heart sank at the stupidity of youth. And this poor elf and his family were now paying the ultimate price.

  “What was his name?” I asked.

  “Stephen Caldwell,” Milo replied. “We’d granted their wish to have a dog. Stephen had always wanted one, but his parents refused because they didn’t trust him to look after it.”

  A dog. Young Stephen was my kind of people.

  “Would it be weird if I stopped by to see them?” I asked.

  Milo patted his brow with a handkerchief. “Honestly, I think they’d be grateful for any diversion right now. They seem to be sniping at each other. I sensed a lot of unresolved anger. I suggested counseling, but I can’t force them to attend.”

  I sensed a lot of unresolved anger echoed in my head. It was worth a shot.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” I said.

  “They live two blocks over on Alchemy Avenue. Brick house with a green door.”

  I had just enough time to squeeze in a visit to the Caldwells, especially if there was a chance it would yield the information we’d been looking for.

  I located the house easily enough and prepared myself for the misery within its walls. Stephen’s father invited me in and I recognized the haze of depression as soon as I stepped across the threshold. It had a different quality from Everly’s dramatic repose. Grief saturated the room and my heart seized when I saw the two younger elves seated on the sofa, staring at their tablet screens like zombies.

  “I’m Stephen’s father, Jayson,” the older elf said. “This is my wife, Lolly, and our sons, Rudy and Clark.”

  A mid-sized yellow dog bounded into the room and began jumping in front of me, eager to make my acquaintance. He had Labrador qualities but seemed to be a blend of breeds.

  “And that’s Sweeney,” Jayson said. “A gift from Big Dreams.”

  “Nice to meet you all,” I said, bending to pet the dog’s head. “My name is Ember and Big Dreams is the reason I’m here. My family contributes to Big Dreams. I ran into Milo Jarvis a few minutes ago and he told me your sad story. I’d like to offer my condolences.”

  “That’s kind of you,” Lolly said. “We haven’t had the outpouring of support some folks get, probably because Stephen brought this upon himself.”

  “That’s a bit h
arsh, Lolly,” Jayson said. “He was a kid, making immature decisions.”

  “Exactly,” Lolly said. “He didn’t die of an illness or at the hands of someone else. It was his own doing.”

  Jayson shushed her, glancing over his shoulder at the two younger elves. “We have discussed this. It isn’t healthy for the boys.”

  “It wasn’t healthy for the boys to show them magic either,” she shot back, “but that didn’t stop you from doing it anyway.”

  “You taught him magic?” I queried.

  Lolly folded her arms. “Milo didn’t tell you that part, did he? Stephen was interested in magic because of his father. Jayson brought home a grimoire from the secondhand bookstore and decided it would be a good idea to try and teach the boys.”

  I knew from other paranormals that elves could learn magic, even though they weren’t born magic users. Some were able to tap into Nature’s magical energy and make it work for them, despite not being born with the ability.

  “What about his friends?” I asked. “Were they magic users?”

  “They were a mixed bag,” Lolly said. “A troll, another elf, and a goblin.”

  “They all thought it would be fun to do spells,” Jayson said.

  “Of course they did. Everything sounds fun when you’re wasted in the woods with your friends,” Lolly said.

  Wow. The room was brimming with anger and resentment. No wonder the two boys were comatose on the sofa. They were probably adept at blocking out the arguments by now.

  “Do you know any magic?” I asked Lolly. She was clearly the angrier of the two.

  “Absolutely not,” she replied. “I’m an elf and I’m perfectly content with that. I’m not the one always looking for greener grass.”

  Jayson’s jaw clenched. “Lolly, this isn’t the time.”

  I rubbed behind Sweeney’s ear. “You know, I think the dog needs to go out. If someone grabs his leash, I’m happy to take him outside.”

  “I’ll get it,” Jayson said, retrieving a leash from a nearby hook. “And I’ll go with you. Sometimes staying inside can be suffocating.” He shot a menacing glance at his wife.

  I hooked the dog and followed Jayson outside, closing the door behind us. We walked around the lawn, letting Sweeney sniff the flowers along the border.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “We’ve been very upset, as you can imagine.”

  “It’s understandable,” I said. “You’ve suffered a horrible loss. It must be a nightmare for you.” A real nightmare they can never wake up from, as opposed to the fleeting nightmares of the curse.

  “I never thought dabbling in magic would lead to this,” Jayson said. “It was meant to be harmless fun. A diversion from our mundane lives.”

  It was strange to listen to a Starry Hollow elf describe his life as mundane.

  “My wife blames me,” he said.

  We stopped walking so the dog could pee.

  “How about you?” I asked.

  “I don’t blame myself,” Jayson said, after a moment of consideration.

  “Do you blame anyone? I would understand if you did. After my husband died, I walked around with a lot of misdirected anger. Road rage was my middle name. One time, I even yelled at a bank teller for running out of lollipops.”

  “I’ve had a little bit of that,” Jayson admitted. “I yelled at a car for driving too fast down our street. I was walking Sweeney and the high speed spooked the dog. I’ll be honest, though, we got Sweeney for Stephen, but he’s been a comfort to all of us.”

  The dog looked up at us, as though he knew he was the topic of conversation.

  “Sweeney slept with Stephen every night until he died,” Jayson said. “Now he sleeps with the boys.”

  “That’s nice,” I said. “He’s become a member of the family. My dog is the same. I can’t imagine life without him.”

  “Whenever I feel the anger bubbling up, I hug the dog,” Jayson said. “Don’t I, boy?”

  I studied Jayson as he stooped to rub the dog’s back. Despite their upsetting circumstances, I highly doubted Jayson was to blame for the nightmare curse. He wasn’t unhinged enough, or magically talented enough, to be the source of the curse. It was obvious the family needed help, though.

  “I’m glad the dog is helping you all, but I’m going to risk overstepping my boundary and recommend counseling for your family.”

  Jayson tugged on his pointy ear. “You wouldn’t be the first person to suggest it.”

  “Your family is struggling, Jayson. Believe me, I get it, but don’t try to deal with it alone. You have two other sons who deserve a well-adjusted childhood.”

  “Did you go to counseling?” Jayson asked. “After your husband died?”

  “If I could have afforded it, I would have,” I said. “My insurance didn’t cover it.”

  “We don’t have to worry about insurance here,” he said.

  “I know. That’s one of the perks of a Starry Hollow passport. You’re very fortunate.” And now so was I.

  “I don’t know if Lolly will go,” he said, with an awkward glance back at the house.

  “Then start without her,” I said. “Go by yourself and then add members of the family as it feels appropriate.”

  He regarded me carefully. “Are you a therapist, by any chance?”

  I laughed. Loudly. “Trust me, Jayson. You do not want me trying to guide anyone through an emotional crisis. I’m the worst.”

  The elf took the leash from me and patted my hand. “You should give yourself more credit than that, Ember. It seems to me you’re doing just fine.”

  Chapter 17

  With the perpetrator of the nightmare curse still at large, it was difficult to focus on a task as tedious as perfecting my scribbles. It was like learning to sew in the middle of a forest fire.

  “You’ve not been practicing your runes,” Hazel scolded me. She scrutinized the paper on the table. “This looks like you handed the dog a pen and told him to go to town.”

  “That’s insulting,” I said, snatching the paper away. “PP3 suffers from arthritis. And I worked very hard on this.”

  “If by ‘very hard,’ you mean drunk at three in the morning with your daughter’s ink stamp, then I agree with you.”

  “Mistress-of-Runecraft, my eye,” I said. “You wouldn’t recognize true genius if it jumped up and bit you on your red nose.”

  “Red nose?”

  My hand flew to cover my mouth. Although I referred to Hazel as a crazed clown in my head, I’d never actually let my thoughts slip out before.

  “Red. You know, like your hair.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Last I checked, my nose is not the same color as my hair. Forget three in the morning. I think you might be drunk now.”

  I waved her off. “Get on with the lesson, Hazel. I’ve got incantations to practice, too. Aunt Hyacinth insists that magic training comes first. The coven is becoming a real drain on my system.”

  “That’s because you’re expending too much energy playing the sheriff’s sidekick. He’s already got one of those, you know. His name is Deputy Bolan.”

  “I’m not playing his sidekick,” I insisted. “I’m trying to get to the bottom of a bad situation. One that has me looking like the town fear monger.”

  Hazel placed a judgmental hand on her hip. “That would certainly explain Marley’s anxiety.”

  “Marley’s anxiety has nothing to do with me,” I said. “Not to mention she’s improved a lot since we came here. Sleeps in her own bed and everything.” Sometimes.

  “Still. I’m sure the fact that you’re easily scared doesn’t help matters.”

  I fixed her with my hard stare. “I said fear monger. That means I’m the one who spreads the fear. Maybe if I wrote it in runes you’d understand.” I lifted my pen to draw a mock example.

  “Whom are you trying to convince?” she asked. “Me or you?”

  “I am not easily scared,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Fists pounded on
the door, causing both of us to jump. My pen flew out of my hand and landed on PP3’s back. He yelped and growled at the naughty pen, now on the floor.

  “Ember, come quickly.” I heard Florian’s muffled voice through the door.

  I jerked open the door. “What’s wrong?”

  Florian’s cheeks were flushed. “It’s the story of a lifetime. You’ve got to cover it for the paper.” He was almost breathless.

  “What’s the story of a lifetime?” I queried.

  “There’s a…Forget it. You’ve got to see it to believe it.” He held out his hand. “Come on. I’ve got Book and Candle saddled. It’ll be easier to go through the woods.”

  Now my curiosity was piqued. “Hazel? Class is over, right?”

  Hazel begrudgingly packed away the Big Book of Scribbles. “One of these days you will focus on runecraft, Ember Rose. Your aunt specifically wants you to master this skill.”

  “My aunt wants me to master all the skills, so she can brag about me at Back to School Night, or whatever the coven equivalent is. It’s not about me. It’s about the Rose legacy.”

  Florian shrugged at Hazel. “What can I say? She’s very astute. Now let’s go.”

  Hazel threw up her hands in defeat. “See you next week. Next time have your homework done properly.”

  I hurried out the door and stood beside the massive white horse. “Remember, Candle. I need your help. Still not an equestrian expert.”

  Candle lowered her body to the ground, making it easier for me to climb on.

  Florian watched in disbelief. “How did you get the horse to do that?”

  “The art of conversation,” I said.

  “You know that’s not normal, right?” he asked.

  “Neither is using magic to dump me in the saddle, so I guess we’re both guilty of unusual methods.”

  “Good point.” He mounted the horse with the grace of a dancer. Show-off. “Onward, Book!”

  The horses raced across the grounds of the estate and through the woods. Long, thin strands of my hair blew into my eyes and mouth. This was not as sexy as it looked on television. I should have grabbed a brush on my way out.

 

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