Banishment and Broomsticks (Emberdale Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 2)

by Kali Harper

  “Still investigating, huh?” When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “I’ve seen you around these parts with that detective. Lance, is it? Good man, but he’d be even better if I could have my books back.”

  Books? “Oh, you mean the ones in Morpheus’ shop? They’re sort of—”

  “Stuck, I know. Was that you’re doing?”

  “What? No. They were like that when we got here.”

  “I need those books. The set’s all out of sorts without them.”

  “What collection? I might be able to help.”

  The old man rambled off a handful of titles, one of which I recognized as the set Kat had been looking to finish inside her own shop. Funnily enough, the books currently stuck inside Morpheus’ store were also ones she had in Emberdale. So once I assured her she’d get her copies back once the investigation was through, Kat agreed to leave her books in Fairmount at The Magician’s Library.

  “There, all done,” I said, putting my phone away as I got to my feet. “She’ll drop them off later this afternoon.”

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t even introduced myself,” the man said, offering me his hand. “I’m Napoleon.” He cracked a smile, and as I started to laugh, he said, “My parents had an ugly sense of humor.”

  “It’s really your name?”

  He pulled on a pair of imaginary suspenders. “Sure is. Thought of changing it once, but it seems to fit.” He laughed again, and this time, Sammy and I joined him. “My apologies for the interrogating before. These things always take so much time. It’s bad enough Morpheus never sent them home when I’d asked him to, but now they’re trapped in that time bubble or whatever it is. I don’t try to understand the goings-on in his shop. I only tend to my books.”

  “You must read some of them,” I said, following after him as he headed back for the library.

  “Of course I do, but literature is my true calling. None of this hocus pocus nonsense.”

  “Then you, my friend, are in the wrong line of work.”

  “Yes, well, when you get to my age and still enjoy the feel of paper in your hands, there’s very little you can do. Anyway, I’ve been working here for close to twenty-five years, and not once has anyone asked me what I want.”

  “Twenty-five years? Wow. The longest job I held wasn’t even a fifth of that.” And it wasn’t for a lack of trying, either.

  “It helps when most who come in here go to the quiet section and only talk to me when they leave. I’m not much of a people person,” he said, holding open the door for me when I joined him. Napoleon pointed to a sign in the window when Sammy went to do the same. “Sorry, kid. Best if you stay outside. Fur’s terrible for books.”

  Sammy grumped, but when I looked at him, he settled down and didn’t say much else, which was his way of letting me know things were okay. The only thing I was at risk of around the little man was a kink in my neck and possibly a pulled muscle from too much laughter. I can live with that.

  “Be sure you do,” Sammy said, mind-to-mind. “Someone has to feed me dinner.”

  With a smile on my face and Napoleon leading me toward the front desk, I left Sammy behind and entered the biggest library I’d ever seen. The shop front outside was rather small, so magic definitely had a play here. Books lined the walls, sorted in rows and organized on shelves. Above us, the ceiling spanned for miles, the paintings so elaborate and so unique, they seemed more like fairy tales than anything else. There was an image of Red Riding Hood, werewolves, Jack and the Beanstalk, The Three Little Pigs… everything I could think of was painted on the ceiling.

  “Not many agree with it,” Napoleon said, “but it sure beats plain white walls or the astrological signs of every witch and wizard in history.”

  “I like it,” I told him, rolling my head from side to side before looking at a wall of books along with many more that were missing. “It makes it feel like humans and our kind could get along somehow.”

  “In another time, perhaps.” He set his hand on the empty space on the shelves. “I do love my books. Some might say I like everything in its place. Morpheus always teased me about it, but they always came home.”

  “When’s the last time the books were in here?”

  Napoleon considered my question, rubbing the short stubble on his chin as he did. “Three nights ago, I believe. The place was a mess when I came in in the morning,” he said, walking back to the front desk where a single book was locked inside a cabinet. “This one here was terribly upset, running into that wall over there.” He gestured to the wall along Morpheus’ shop. “Its mate’s stuck in there, so I have to keep it locked up before I lose another one.” He stroked the spine to the book, then wrestled it back into the cabinet before locking the door. “I hate to keep them apart like this, but I’ve already lost so much between Morpheus’ open invitations and that spell.”

  “How come the collections don’t act like this?” I’d heard of book pairs before and had even seen books fly inside Kat’s shop, but the collections never went out of their way to find missing volumes.

  “Because they have others to keep them company. A pair is terribly intimate and will go to great lengths to find one another. They can get very destructive, in fact.”

  “So nothing else was out of the ordinary? When you came in the other morning, I mean.”

  “The clocks were off, but once I changed them, everything was the same as usual.”

  “Do you remember the time?”

  He considered my question a moment, then smiled. “I remember it exactly because it wasn’t long after I’d gone home. It’s not unusual for one clock to stop, but all of them?”

  “Napoleon, the time.”

  “Oh yes, it was 12:15 AM on the dot. Wait, where are you going?”

  “You’ve been a huge help,” I told him, heading for the front door, “thank you so much.”

  “You’re welc—”

  The door closed behind me, cutting him off as I practically ran into Lance who was in the process of asking Sammy where I’d gone.

  “They changed the time,” I told Lance as he held the door open for me, ushering me inside The Magician’s Closet before closing the door.

  “Who did? What are you talking about?”

  “I was talking with Napoleon—long story—but he says when he came in the other morning, the time on his clocks had stopped at 12:15 AM.”

  “The ones in here never stopped,” Lance pointed out.

  “Maybe they did, but once the suspect left, it returned to the slower time Izzy and Darby experienced.” I stepped back into Morpheus’ office to show Lance the clock. “Whoever cast the spell probably didn’t realize it would affect other shops in the area.”

  “But they couldn’t have touched the ones in the library.”

  “Which is exactly my point. The spell went off and they altered the clocks in here—or maybe they didn’t—but with time still moving at a crawl when we finally arrived, it’s no wonder you can’t find the correct time of banishment.”

  Lance smiled as he glanced at the clock on Morpheus’ desk, the hands having moved a few hours since our last visit. “Time of banishment isn’t as helpful as a time of death, Astrid. Still, that places the girls inside the shop later than when they said they’d first arrived.”

  “Unless they weren’t the ones who set off the spell. The Canundrum, sure, but what if there were two Turning spells?”

  “The slowing spell was Morpheus’ doing,” Lance decided, frowning at the clock again. “It would’ve allowed him to walk around and trap whoever was after him.”

  “Right, but when he trapped the wrong person, he gave our suspect enough time to cast a second spell at 12:15 AM, giving them the window they needed to banish him before anyone else noticed.”

  “Sadly, this leaves us right back where we started,” he said with a sigh.

  Rubbing my eyes, I collapsed in the chair in front of Morpheus’ desk, vaguely aware of Lance’s eyes on me when I said, “It’s nothing, ho
nest.” The last time he’d seen me like this, I’d suffered from migraines and seeing things that weren’t there. “We need to find out who did this. If we don’t, whoever’s responsible could go after Darby.”

  “But she didn’t see anything,” Lance reminded me.

  “No, but maybe our suspect doesn’t know that.”

  “So we find the girls, get them back to your place, then what?”

  “I don’t know, but keeping them safe sounds like a good place to start. Come on.”

  Chapter Nine

  Maggie was waiting for us as soon as we walked in the door, her spectral form flickering in and out as she paced the length of my living room. I was the only one who could see her, of course, but even as I stepped toward her, Maggie’s ghost vanished. I’d expected her to return after possessing Ginger again, so when her voice erupted from Sammy’s body, I just about had a heart attack.

  “He isn’t here,” she said, her eyes fixed on Lance as he headed up the stairs toward my old bedroom.

  “Was he here before?” Lance asked, pausing halfway up the steps, his chest heaving with what I could only assume was a sigh.

  We’d already spent most of the day running around after Mark, and once he stopped answering Lucy’s texts, the sick feeling in my stomach grew. I hated to think he had anything to do with this, mostly because of how much Lucy cared for him. Granted, I’d never met the guy and the little I knew about him was how they met and how he helped his niece get her magic even after she’d practiced it as a human. I’m sure he had the best intentions, but if that were true, why was he always out of reach? He did come to Emberdale on his own, after all.

  “Came back with the girls not long after you left,” Maggie said, drawing me from my thoughts. It took me a moment to remember what we were talking about, and by the time I was caught up, Lance continued toward my room. “Are you not listening? They aren’t here.” Maggie padded after him, bounding up the steps as she spoke. Her voice was muffled, but I could’ve sworn she said something about Mark’s shoes and how he’d tracked dirt all over the front porch before cleaning it up.

  “There isn’t any mud around here,” I said to Lucy. “It hasn’t rained in weeks.”

  Lucy shrugged, her eyes vacant as she stared out the front window. Her face was pale, made worse by the fact she hadn’t put any makeup on. I’d noticed it before, but thought nothing of it. Still, thinking back to all our family get-togethers and events, I’d never seen her without it. Not even at my parents’ funerals.

  “You okay?” A gentle touch on her shoulder brought her back to the present, her eyes wide. “You were white as a ghost for a second there.”

  She shook her head and waved me away, taking a deep breath as she did. “This isn’t like him. Have I told you how we met?”

  I smiled. “You did. He was there with Darby, wasn’t he?”

  “Oh, yes. He had to wait for her to finish her trial, so we had a long chat. There were others there he could’ve talked to I suppose, but he talked to me. Me, Astrid. The old flop who rarely had any reaction from her suitors at all.”

  “It sounds nice.”

  “It was. At first, it was the small things, you know? Why I needed a new broom, how long I’d been practicing magic, what I specialized in, you know, the normal stuff.”

  Normal meaning magical. “You never told me what magic he does.” Come to think of it, I didn’t know what Darby did, either. Not that it really mattered, but in Emberdale, there were no secrets. Everyone knew I was practicing conjuration just as much as Ida was a Seer, Lance had an ability to shield himself when needed, and Harris worked with charms.

  “He’s like me,” Lucy said, oblivious to my thoughts. “He was born into magic but never taught, so he learned things on his own. It’s probably why he offered to help Darby when he did. He’d seen the magic in her the same way I’d seen it in you, only Darby already had a knack for it. He embraced her along with the magic she’d already learned, then slowly molded her so she could take part in Morpheus’ trials. She has another one coming up soon, and I think it’d be lovely if you both got to go and do it together.”

  “I thought the trials were private.” I knew Sammy couldn’t go in with me when I did mine.

  “Your first one is, but if your magic is compatible with Darby’s, then you can go in future trials together.”

  “Funny, I thought you would’ve wanted to do that yourself.”

  “Heavens, no. My magic isn’t what it used to be, even with my new broomstick. Both you and Darby are young. You have a spark about you none can compare to. Once you grow into your magic, that too will change, but for now—”

  “Darby wants to practice magic with Izzy,” I said, cutting her off. “That must be why she went to Morpheus.”

  “She said as much already.”

  “I know, but she said how she wanted Izzy to join in with the magic like one joins a school, but if the future trials can involve a pair of students, then that must be the reason why Darby actually brought her here. She doesn’t just want Izzy to learn magic, she wants to do her trials with her.”

  “Far as I understand it, they do everything else together, but she isn’t like us.”

  “I know.”

  “And no amount of wishing or begging Morpheus will make a difference.”

  “I know that too, but Darby’s young. She needs time to learn your ways—”

  “Our ways, dear.”

  “I may have embraced my magic, but I’m far from understanding all of this. Darby’s like me. We’re both new to magic, including the rules and limitations Fairmount might set for us.”

  As the silence fell between us, I took Lucy in my arms and hugged her tight. She shook, sniffling as she reached for a tissue she had in her pocket. When we separated, the wise woman I spoke with before was gone, replaced by one filled with grief.

  “I’ve done something terrible,” she said, wiping her nose which was already red. “I’ve tried to explain it away. To excuse what I saw—”

  “Lucy, what is it?”

  She didn’t answer, a string of wracking sobs causing her to shake so violently, no amount of hugging could calm her down. There are a few times I’d seen my aunt cry, but never like this. When my parents passed away, she was silent, and when her first fiance broke her heart, she couldn’t open the door to her house for weeks. This though, this was different. These weren’t tears of grief.

  “You’re angry,” I said, rubbing her back as Lance walked backed into the living room with Maggie alongside him.

  “In my purse,” she spoke between sobs.

  Looking to Lance, I watched as he dumped out the contents of Lucy’s purse onto the coffee table. Her cell phone skittered to the floor as everything else fell out, including her foundation, compact, lipstick, various receipts, pens, pencils, and paper clips.

  “The compact,” she said, hiding her face in her hands. “Open it.”

  When Lance did, I leaned forward to see what was inside. The material she used to apply the fine powder was covered in dark soot, stained and unusable. That explained why she hadn’t put her makeup on, but where had it come from?

  “What is it?” I asked, looking from her to Lance who inspected it.

  Lucy took a shaky breath, refusing to look at either one of us. As she spoke, her shoulders dropped and the crying from before continued. “When I went back to check on him, he… I…” She hiccuped, hugging her arms around herself as she rocked back and forth. “There were footprints.”

  Lance frowned, but then as if a light had turned on, he spoke. “You used this to hide the footprints.”

  Lucy nodded.

  “But why?” I asked. “Why would you hide this?”

  “Because she was protecting him,” Lance explained, exhaling hard. “That explains the residue I found before. It was Mark, wasn’t it?”

  “I wanted to hear it from his own mouth, but when he told me Darby was missing, it didn’t seem as important.”

  “And
you’re sure the footprint didn’t belong to someone else?” I asked her.

  “I’ve seen him track mud inside before, probably the same way he tracked it onto your porch while we were gone. They’re those heavy boots. Terrible things and extremely loud when he walks.”

  “He can’t be the only one who wears boots, though. What about Darien?”

  Lance agreed. “Lucy, it might not be his footprint, but I need to run this.”

  “You… you aren’t mad?” She looked at him with disbelief, her hands shaking as she folded them in her lap.

  “I don’t have the energy right now to deal with more than one person at a time. Covering up for this is inexcusable.”

  “I know, and I would’ve mentioned it sooner—”

  “But things spun out of control.” Lance nodded, then with a sigh, he removed a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket.

  “You can’t be serious,” I said, standing up between them. “Handcuffs? Really?”

  “Astrid, for all we know, she could’ve been an accomplice. Now, unless you want to join her, I suggest you stand aside.”

  “But—”

  “What if she warned him while we were on our way back, huh?”

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat, then picked Lucy’s cell off the floor to read the texts she’d sent.

  How could you do this?

  Where’s Izzy?

  Did you do those things to Morpheus?

  Answer me!

  You’d better be there when we get back. I can’t take this anymore.

  As I read over each message, I sank lower and lower until I was back on the sofa, the phone cradled in my hands. “She did warn him.” She might not have intended it, but she’d sent the last text as we were leaving Fairmount, so if he had come back, he would’ve left just as quickly. “Lucy…”

  “I’m sorry, Astrid. Truly. I thought he was different.” Lucy hung her head, then held out her hands so Lance could cuff them.

  I couldn’t watch anymore, so I turned away and headed into the kitchen, barely keeping myself upright by the time I reached the sink. Maggie and Sammy followed after me, Maggie having released Sammy of her grasp as she hovered at my side. Vaguely aware of Lance reading off Lucy’s right in the living room, I tried to block everything else from my mind. How did I not see this? The way she’d acted when we finally joined her in Morpheus’ office, how she acted when I mentioned the police, and how she’d gone without her makeup for the first time I could remember.