by Amy Boyles
A fist thundered against the door. "Dylan Apel, you come out here right now."
Em, Queen Witch. Crap.
"Uh-oh, sounds like you're in trouble," Sera said.
"What do you mean, me? You're as responsible for this mess as I am."
"How do you know that's what she wants?"
I glared at her. "Because I'm a freakin' psychic. Of course that's what she wants."
"Get your bony behind over here and open this door right now!"
I sighed so hard my chest collapsed. I crossed to the door and thrust it open. "Yes, Your Highness, how can I help you?"
Em, a cloud of curls engulfing her face, gave me a sarcastic grin and strode past me. "Why is it every time you work some magic, it always backfires?" Queen Witch reached the center of the room and stopped. She pivoted on her heel and glared at me.
"I don't know, Em. You're the expert. I'm only the novice here. I don't know what I'm doing when it comes to magic."
She inspected her fingernails. "It's amazin' you've survived this long without another witch killin' you and stealin' your power."
"Have you ever heard of visualization?" Sera said.
Em turned to her. "What?"
"You know, when you imagine something into being and then it happens."
"Chickadee, that's magic, ain't it?"
"Yeah, but it also works for other things. You keep visualizing and mentioning that someone might kill my sister, then my sister is probably going to wind up dead."
"I ain't followin'," Em said.
"I used to be afraid of snakes. I just knew one would end up in the house somehow. My deepest fear," Sera said.
"Yeah, I remember that," Reid said.
"Me too," I said.
"Me three," Grandma added.
"Well, then one day a snake showed up. It wasn't poisonous or anything, but it still showed up in the house."
Em palmed the back of her head and threaded her fingers through her hair. "I ain't followin'."
"You keep saying someone's going to kill Dylan and guess what? Someone is going to try to kill her, so why don't you stop with all the talk about that."
"Okay, I'll stop," she said. "But that ain't why I've come."
"Why are you here?" I asked.
Her gaze swayed from me to Sera. "Whoever's responsible for that little trick with the lights is in big trouble."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Councilwoman Gladiolas felt the ripple three states away. She's here and wants to see the guilty party right now."
I brought my fingers to my mouth and chewed my nubby nails. "Does that mean…?"
"You'll be boiled alive for doing magic in front of nonmagics?" Em said as she untangled the bangles on her wrist. "Probably. Nice knowin' ya."
EIGHT
This was so not cool. I mean, way not cool. Em had spelled the witches so they wouldn't realize the truth about Roman. She was also keeping the staff oblivious about the magic being used, and here I was about to be sentenced to death.
No way.
Uh-uh.
Not on my watch.
Sera and I stood outside Balmore's parlor. Inside, Councilwoman Gladiolas waited for us. The only thing standing between me and certain death were white sliding doors with a bit of paint peeling off a wedge at the top. Figured.
Grandma squeezed my shoulder. "Don't worry. If worse comes to worse, I'll fly you to Fairyland."
"Great," I said. "So that I can be bitten to death by a flying fairy instead of boiled alive by the council. That sounds like a much better fate, Grandma."
The doors rumbled open on the track. "Shh," Grandma said. "It's time."
I was about to walk in when Milly swept past me. She caned with a ferocity I'd never seen before, practically sprinting across the parquet floor.
"Gladiolas, you old bag, what's this about?"
Now the only time I'd ever seen an image of the councilwoman was a few weeks back when Em had performed a glamour on Milly, changing her into a tall, beautiful woman who had looked to be in her late twenties, early thirties.
The woman sitting behind the mahogany desk had a high forehead, protruding cheekbones and a sharp chin. She kept her gray hair clipped short on the sides and in the back, though the crown peaked with loose waves that tumbled down over her eyebrows. Her dark, penetrating eyes sent a chill right to my bones.
Obviously the image that Em had used in the glamour was what Gladiolas had looked like years ago.
This older Gladiolas gave my paternal grandmother a smile so tight her lips disappeared. "Milly, what a pleasure to see you."
"Come off it," Milly said. "You've sent for my granddaughters, and I want to know why."
Gladiolas waved a hand. The doors rolled closed. The councilwoman reclined in the desk chair, resting steepled hands in her lap. "I've called the perpetrators of a great ripple to see me. It wasn't until I arrived that I discovered the magic that I can only assume your granddaughters worked"—she looked at me and Sera as if for confirmation—"knocked out the power in five towns."
"We did?" I said, startled. "That's impressive."
Sera beamed. "We're pretty talented."
I turned to her. "I know! I'm so impressed with us."
"My girls, you've got some real ability," Grandma said. "I always knew you'd make wonderful witches."
I frowned. "You're the one who didn't want us to know about our powers." That was true. That's why we were only just now learning how to be witches, because our grandmother Hazel had kept the secret of our powers from us for most of our lives.
Grandma sniffed. "That was then, this is the glorious now. We must celebrate. I'll invite the unicorn king."
Gladiolas slammed her hand on the desk. "That's enough!"
I gnawed my bottom lip. We stood stock silent. Gladiolas glared at each of us. I shivered. If I thought the stare of a Queen Witch was bad, that of a councilwoman was a thousand times worse.
She sucked in her cheeks. The skin on her face stretched over her bones, making them poke out severely. "Tell me what happened."
"I was teaching the girls how to create a force field," Milly said. "Their magic got in each other's way, that's all."
Gladiolas's eye twitched. "Their magic got in each other's way. That's all?"
"I didn't stutter when I told you, and I'm not stuttering now." She stamped the cane to the floor. "They were competing with each other's magic. Things happened. The power got blown. It wasn't intentional."
"I didn't say it was," Gladiolas said. "But from what I hear, the power company is contracting outside workers to get the electric back on. It's going to take half the day for them to fix this."
"You coming all this way and marching us in here like criminals makes me believe you think this was intentional." Milly pressed her free hand to the table and leaned over, getting right in Gladiolas's face. I arched back.
Boy, was it getting hot in here.
"Now, what are you looking to do here, Gladiolas? Make an example of my girls?"
The councilwoman clenched her jaw. "I came to find out some answers. I felt the ripple three states away." She lifted her hand and folded her fingers to show three of them. "Three states. That's power. I needed to make sure what was going on was on the level. She stared at me and Sera. "Is what Milly is telling me true? Were you trying to create a force field and it backfired?"
I nodded.
Sera nodded.
Gladiolas tapped her fingers on the desk. "This isn't good, you know. It's a standard rule that nonmagics aren't allowed to witness a witch working her power."
I twisted my fingers. "No one witnessed anything. We did it in the privacy of our room. If they saw anything, it was a bulb exploding, not the magic that made it happen."
"I see," she said.
"Not that it matters to you or the council," I muttered.
Gladiolas rounded on me with a wide-eyed glare. "Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?"
Her iron gaze made me feel
about three inches high. Hello, you can call me Thumbelina. "It means that the staff here are oblivious anyway. From what I understand, they've been spelled not to notice any magic, so I don't see why you're suddenly so concerned with what we did."
Grandma fisted the air. "You tell the old bonehead!"
Wasn't sure if that made things better or worse.
Gladiolas's face shook as if she had a tremor. Or a tic. Or perhaps it was anger steam building in her head, ready to pop out of her ears at any moment. "You're saying we're hypocrites?"
"I do believe so, yes." Please don't boil me alive. Please don't boil me alive.
"You're saying it would be better if Queen Esmerelda simply allowed all the workers to know that witches existed and that one of them had been poisoned with the nectar of a flower that only grows in Fairyland? You're saying that hundreds of years of secrets should be revealed?"
"Maybe," I squeaked.
"So when the government discovers that witches exist, you think it will be okay when they capture some of us and make our sisters and brothers undergo probing and probably much worse to see what makes us tick?"
I sighed. Boy, I'd really opened a can of gummy worms on this one. "I mean, when you put it that way, it doesn't sound all that nice, does it?"
Her head shaking increased. Did she need some meds? Maybe I should ask her if there was something in her purse I could get her.
"No. It doesn't sound nice at all. So when our queen, Esmerelda, asked me for a waiver to spell the household, I deemed it acceptable. If not, our secret would be out, our identities flashed before the public, and we'd be in more hot water than you're in right now."
The air in front of Gladiolas cracked and sizzled as if an electric current were circling. She raised a hand, silencing us. Not that we were talking. "Yes?" she said.
The atmosphere contracted into a small brown cloud, about the size of a person's noggin. The fuzzed edges crisped, and the image of a man's head appeared.
Sera released an airy gasp.
"Yes, Pearbottom? What can I do for you?"
Pearbottom's voice crackled as he spoke. "You're investigating the magic surge?"
"Of course."
He sniffed. "You're back in Silver Springs, where I saw Roman Bane a few weeks ago."
She nodded. "I am."
"I don't trust that Apel family."
Milly snickered. Gladiolas's lip twitched in response.
Spittle rained the air as Pearbottom spoke. "And I don't trust that Bane is gone. I think he's still there. I think they're hiding him, and I believe they're behind this magic surge and, as such, must be punished accordingly."
"Is that your call to make?" she snapped.
He looked away, clearly embarrassed. "No. Of course not. Em shouldn't allow local police to be investigating this murder."
"She's Queen Witch. Until there's reason to involve the witch police, this can stay a local matter."
"I think the murder of a witch is a reason," he said, looking down his parrot nose.
Gladiolas sighed in frustration. "Is that all, Pearbottom?"
"That's all. But I don't trust those women. If I get so much as one word that they're involved in anything, I will request their removal."
"Understood. Good-bye."
The cloud shrank into a pencil-thin line and vanished in a blip that resembled a television screen turning off.
No one said anything.
"Don't worry; he didn't know you were here," Gladiolas said.
The sight of Pearbottom had knotted my stomach. I bit my lip, willing the pain away. So he didn't trust us and wanted us— "What did it mean when he said he wanted us removed?"
Gladiolas shot me a frustrated look. "It means he wants you boiled alive. Removed from the earth."
"Oh," I gulped.
The councilwoman wedged both her hands on the desk and exhaled. "I understand this particular situation with the power was an accident."
"Does that mean we're not in trouble?" Sera asked.
"I didn't say that."
"Get off it, Gladiolas," Milly spat. "Everyone knows the council plays favorites. You let Em do whatever she wants. She could hire a pack of wolves to run this investigation and you'd be drooling to see what sort of evidence they came up with."
The councilwoman slammed her fist on the desk. "I will not be spoken to that way! You may have once been Queen Witch yourself, but that doesn't mean you have the right to insult me. Do you think I had a choice in coming here? That ripple was probably felt all the way in New York State. If I hadn't come, the rest of the council would have wondered why. This is standard protocol."
"That's BS and you know it," Milly said. "You're just sticking your nose in places for the pleasure of it. What is it you want? To reprimand my girls? Go ahead, reprimand them, give them a light punishment. What they did was an accident. It wasn't malicious and shouldn't be deemed worthy of getting them boiled alive."
Gladiolas's face paled in shock. "Boiled alive? Do you think I'm here to sentence your girls to death? No. I only wanted to find out what happened." She sighed. Her body sank into the chair as if the entire encounter had exhausted her. She dismissed us with the wave of a hand. "All of you are free to go."
I felt better. Hey, my day wouldn't end with being boiled alive. That was a plus.
We shuffled toward the door.
"However," she said.
We stopped. I groaned. We turned.
Gladiolas sat with folded hands in her lap. "Don't perform magic like that again. Next time, I may not have a choice but to punish you. And as you heard, if Inspector Pearbottom discovers you're up to something, he'll do whatever he can to make sure your sentence is severe."
The doors rumbled apart, and we headed toward them.
"Dylan?" Gladiolas said.
I stopped. My shoulders sank as I turned. "Yes?"
"That is your name, right? Dylan?"
"Yes, ma'am." Everyone else had filed out. I was the only one left with the councilwoman. Traitors.
Her tapered fingers smoothed the lines wrinkling her forehead. "Would you do me a favor and send in Detective Bane?"
Panic fluttered up my throat. What could she want with Roman? Besides, no one was supposed to know he was here. "I don't know what you're talking about."
She gave me a sympathetic smile. "I'm not going to give him to Pearbottom."
I stopped gnawing the inside of my cheeks. "I'll see what I can do."
I exited the room and rushed through the house. I found Roman in the ballroom, going over a pad of notes.
"Roman," I said. As soon as his name left my lips, tears budded in my eyes. Gladiolas had said she wasn't going to hand him over to Pearbottom, but how could I trust her? Fact was, I didn't want to lose Roman. Not that I had him or anything, but you know.
He rose, arms outstretched as if he were going to embrace me. "Dylan, what's wrong?"
The words tangled in my throat, forming an unmoving lump. He cupped a hand on each of my arms and squeezed. The burning touch of his skin shock waved me right out of my weeping-willow reverie.
"Councilwoman Gladiolas sent me to find you." My lower lip trembled. I gnashed down. The darn thing continued wavering. I nearly bit to the blood to stop it. "She knows you're here."
He gave me a smile warm enough to melt even the most frigid of hearts. Oh, so now I guess I'm supposed to tell you that I had a flash of brilliance or regret and forgave him for slipping a recorder into my purse when he kissed me a few weeks earlier. Apparently his smile wasn't that warm, because my heart didn't thaw.
Too much.
"It's okay," he said. "I know what she wants."
"But you can't be taken captive. You can't be arrested."
He pressed me to him. I hadn't expected the hug, but it was nice. So nice to inhale the musky aroma that reminded me of a pine forest and leather. Seriously. He smelled divine. I nearly slapped myself. I needed to snap out of it. He might be arrested, found guilty for murder and executed b
y a witch tribunal or whatever.
"There are things she wants to discuss with me."
I pressed my palms against him, edging out of his grasp. "What things?"
He shook his head. "I can't talk about it yet."
"Why not? What if it's important?"
He arched an amused eyebrow. "I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me."
I crossed my arms defiantly. "I don't."
"Then why are you so concerned?"
"Because…because," I stammered. "Because maybe I care."
He clutched his heart in a mock cardiac-arrest mode. "What are you saying? That you have feelings about me?"
I smirked. "I wouldn't go that far."
He scowled. "God forbid I put down an inch more than you want to take."
I scoffed. "Listen, Gladiolas is waiting for you."
"I'll go right now." He escorted me from the room. We reached the door to the parlor, and he said, "We still on for running today?"
Oh. I'd forgotten all about that. "Sure thing. Come and get me when you're ready." It was only a thousand degrees outside. Should be awesome.
He vanished inside the room. I placed an ear to the door, trying to at least get an idea of what they were discussing. Someone cleared a frog from their throat behind me. I jerked.
"Just what do you think you're doin'?"
Em. Ugh. I turned around and flashed her an embarrassed smile. "Nothing. I'm leaving."
She eyeballed me as I slunk up the stairs. "Be sure that you keep doin' nothin'."
"Yes, Your Majesty," I said before turning up the landing and losing all sight of her.
NINE
Grandma was kind enough to magic me a running suit. Though she quite unkindly made it purple with bell bottoms and white running stripes.
"Could be worse," I said, looking in the mirror. "At least it fits."
From the corner, Reid giggled. Nose-deep in her phone for the last half hour, my baby sis hadn't looked up from it once, even with me in the blast-from-the-past tracksuit.
"What are you laughing at?" I asked her.
Reid's face burned crimson. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
"Right," I said. "Hey, I thought you were leaving." Reid had, in fact, arranged things with Queen Em that it would be all right for her to leave the premises. I wanted her to stay, but legally she was eighteen and an adult, so I didn't have much say-so in anything.