Queen Witch

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Queen Witch Page 13

by Amy Boyles


  He raked his fingers through his hair. "Come in." Roman stepped aside, and I entered the cottage. Roman tucked his black T-shirt into his jeans.

  "I know about the package from Fairyland," I said.

  "So you've been investigating."

  I raised the cowl of my sweater to cover my neck. "What other choice do I have?"

  "Call Helga on her bluff."

  I took a step back. "You think she's bluffing?"

  He shrugged on his black duster. "Probably. Queen like that. You think she's got the backing of her people on a move to steal another queen's magic?"

  "I don't know. It all depends on how many of them are stealing magic."

  "Bingo," he said.

  I wrapped my sweater tight around me. "What?"

  "The more and more we delve into this world, the more the criminals are linked to magic stealing."

  "So you don't think it's a coincidence that Gertrude was murdered?"

  He shook his head. "I think Gertrude was supposed to win that election. I think taking over Fairyland had more to do with harvesting magic from unicorns than living in peace and harmony as a giant coven of witches."

  "So do you think she was murdered by someone who knew that and wanted to stop it, or by someone else?"

  Roman shook his head. "I don't know yet. But I'm sure Brock had nothing to do with it."

  I sighed. "Thank goodness. So you'll be able to get him out?"

  Roman shook his head. My hopes fell. "No. Not until we find the real killer."

  I scratched the back of my neck. "This place is all screwed up. Sera's magic's gone crazy. Grandma couldn't even work magic at dinner, and I'm Queen Witch." I looked up at him, tired, exhausted, spent. "I mean, how much worse could this whole thing get?"

  Roman tugged me to him. He grazed his mouth over my cheeks, making me shudder.

  "Hmm. What was I whining about again?"

  He chuckled and snagged his teeth on my bottom lip. "You were complaining that everything seems hexed here."

  "Yeah, well, it is. Wait. What's that?"

  His lips found mine and took them in a kiss. I buried my knuckles in his chest. My body sank into him, melting.

  He broke the kiss. I could have stayed locked to him for forever. It certainly seemed a better option than returning to the castle where all heck was breaking loose.

  "What were you talking about?" I murmured. "That word you used. What is it?"

  He pulled away and snapped a Witch Police badge onto his belt. "What? Hex?"

  "Yeah. What's that?"

  "It's a physical curse. Usually an object used to call bad things down on someone."

  "You don't think someone's hexed us, do you?"

  Roman cupped my chin and tilted my face toward his. He kissed me long enough for me to forget my name and said, "I hope not. But you never know." He slid on his sunglasses and said, "I need to get back to the castle and see what Pearbottom's up to." Roman took my hand. "You coming with me?"

  I nodded. "Yeah, but I've got other things to tend to."

  He quirked an amused brow. "Something other than murder?"

  "Yep. I mean, realistically Helga should be okay. Not that I think Brock's guilty, but she should forget about me and taking my power for a while. So now I need to figure out what's going on with my family's magic."

  He opened the door. A swell of cold air rushed inside. I shivered.

  "Temperature's dropping," Roman said. "What do you think's causing your family's magic to be affected?"

  I shook my head. "I don't know. But I have a bad feeling that I'm next."

  ***

  I found my sisters and grandmothers holed up in our room. Reid was reading the history book on queens while the others were playing some kind of magical card game where the cards flipped themselves.

  "So," I said, getting everyone's attention.

  "So," Milly said, apparently waiting.

  "We need to figure out what's going on with everyone's power."

  "Maybe instead we need to figure out who the killer is so we can get out of here," Reid complained.

  "Pearbottom's holding Brock," Sera said. She rubbed her thighs. "I tried to visit, but he wouldn't let me."

  "Have you talked to anyone from his group?"

  She nodded. "They're fighting it. Say they'll get all of Fairyland involved if they find him guilty."

  Reid licked her thumb and paged the book. "Do you think Pearbottom did it to get rid of that awful Helga?"

  "No," I said. "He did it because he's Pearbottom. Roman didn't know anything about it."

  Milly clicked her tongue. "Jonathan's always been that way. Headstrong and stupid. It's a wonder he's made it as far as he has."

  I clasped my hands. "Well, since there's nothing we can do about that right now, what do you say we focus on the little problem with everyone's magic."

  "There's nothing wrong with my magic, toots," Milly snapped. "I've got a world of power in these ten fingers and toes."

  Toes? "Okay, so not you and me, but Sera and Grandma. We need to figure out what's happening."

  "Not a bad idea," Grandma said, tapping one of the cards. It rose into the air, turned over and landed back in its place. "Shoot. Nothing. Sera, it's your turn."

  "Grandma," I said.

  Grandma whisked her head in my direction. She adjusted her pearls and fluffed her hair. "Yes?"

  "What happened today? With your power?"

  She inspected her cards while Sera tapped one and it played itself. "Simple. I tried to work a spell and nothing happened."

  "Simple? You call that simple?" Reid said, slamming the book. "That's terrible. You can't lose your magic."

  Grandma frowned. "I doubt I'm losing anything, Reid dear. It was just a single spell. It doesn't mean anything."

  I folded my arms. "Prove it. Do a glamour on me."

  Grandma worked her mouth like a fish gasping for air. "Well, I don't know about all that. Seems like an awfully showy way to prove I have magic."

  Sera threw me a worried glance. "Then why don't you try to levitate my purse." She nodded to her bag on the bed.

  Grandma sniffed. "I don't have to prove anything to you girls. In fact, this reminds me of the time the old monkey king, Brock's father, asked a unicorn to prove he hadn't been stealing their silver apples."

  "They're not golden?" I said.

  "Of course not. Why would gold apples grow in Fairyland when silver ones are so much better?"

  "No idea," I said. "But continue."

  "Well, the unicorn couldn't prove it without sharing his memories. So that's what the monkey king had him do—share his memories."

  I lifted my right brow. "And what does this have to do with you levitating Sera's purse?"

  Grandma huffed. "It won't prove anything. Might as well share my memory with you instead."

  Okay. Whatever that meant. "Okay. Let's get a timeline. Sera, your magic started going haywire the night of the election, right?"

  She nodded. "That's the first time I noticed it. Yes."

  "Grandma, yours stopped working when? Today?"

  She drummed her fingers on the table. "Perhaps."

  "I'll take that to be a yes," I said.

  Milly stretched her fingers over her mouth. "So it appears the Apel family is under attack."

  I shook my head. "We don't know that. Grandma's power has drained before. It could be natural."

  Milly shook her head. "I don't think so, toots. I saw something like this a long time ago."

  Reid lifted her nose from the book. "What was it?"

  Milly's face darkened. "Black magic."

  I shuddered. "That doesn't sound good." I turned to Sera. "Am I right? That didn't sound good, did it?"

  Sera rubbed the tip of her nose. "No. It doesn't sound good."

  Milly palmed the knob of her cane. "Girls, you need to know what you're dealing with."

  "Black magic?" I said.

  "You need to know more than that, though. You need to understa
nd exactly what's going on. You must go to the library."

  I scratched my ear to make sure I'd gotten all the wax out of it this morning. "What? We must go to the library?"

  "There are books on it there. You need to start reading up."

  I brushed some lint off my jeans. "Milly, by the time we're finished reading up, we'll probably be dead. Maybe you could just give us the CliffsNotes on black magic."

  She stamped the cane on the ground. "There aren't any shortcuts in this!"

  "Okay, okay. No need to be testy." I adjusted Polly on my shoulder so that he wasn't digging into the bone and said, "Sera. You coming?"

  She pushed herself out of the chair. "Might as well. It's better than sitting around and worrying about my almost-boyfriend being charged for murder."

  "Can't help but agree with you there."

  Reid slammed the book shut. "I'm coming, too. I'm tired of being cooped up in here reading about old queens."

  "Okay," I said. "Come on."

  We headed out the door and down the hall. We turned the first corner and bumped headfirst (literally) into Nan.

  Reid threw her arms around our friend. "Nan! Where're you staying? I've so been missing you."

  Nan smiled. "The other protectors have been keeping me busy. Keeping me up-to-date on my training. I've been throwing daggers, shooting arrows, and I've also learned a secret way to pause your heartbeat with only three hits to the chest."

  Wow. Impressive.

  Nan smiled. Tight wrinkles formed around her eyes. "Your grandmother. How is she?"

  Sera shrugged. "She seems okay. But we heard they're taking you away from us."

  Nan nodded, wiped what looked like a budding tear from the corner of her eye. "I'm afraid we all have to grow up sometime, girls. The protectorship is forcing my hand on this." She raised her fists. "There are folks who need these weapons of destruction to help them. Let's face it, girls. I'm a lean, mean, killing machine, and I need to help those who are the most vulnerable in our world."

  Um. Okay. "But Nan, we need you."

  Nan gave me a thin smile. "I know, but I must go where I'm called to go."

  Reid pouted out her bottom lip. "You can't go! I'll write letters. I'll throw a temper tant—"

  A crash boomed from downstairs. "I want his head!"

  Helga.

  My sisters threw me alarmed looks. I bit my lip and raced toward the stairs. I bobbed down the steps, Polly Parrot holding on for dear life. Please don't let this mean what I think it means.

  When I reached the bottom floor, I saw Helga off to the side, surrounded by Pearbottom and Roman. Her hands were curled like claws, and her mouth was twisted into a grimace.

  "You have two days. Two days!"

  "We've arrested a man for murder," Roman said. "That was the only thing you said in your deal."

  "I want the murderer found, charged and convicted. You have two days. Two days." She saw me standing to the side, and her lips coiled into a smile. "Two days or your queen's power will be mine."

  bookmark:Chapter Nineteen

  NINETEEN

  I sat in the study, shaking. Roman held my hand. "It's going to be all right. I won't let anything happen to you."

  "It's all my own stupid fault. I never should have agreed to it."

  He quirked a brow.

  "Don't say it," I snapped. "I know it was stupid, but what was I supposed to do?" I pressed my hands to his chest, pushing him away. "Never mind. Don't answer that. You're going to say I should've just called her bluff on war. I know. I know. But I couldn't do that."

  He stroked my hair. "You don't know what she's like. It's okay."

  I peeled away from him. "What do you mean, I don't know what she's like? Do you?"

  He nodded. "Yeah. I know Helga. I grew up here, remember?"

  There was something he wasn't saying.

  "Did you date her?" I asked.

  He cocked his head to one side. "Are you jealous?"

  "No," I said a little too quickly. "Of course not. Why would I be jealous of some crazy lady who eats the souls of children for breakfast?"

  He chuckled. "We were kids. We dated for a summer. She was nuts back then, too. Had an appetite for destruction."

  I clicked my tongue. "Listen, do you think if I escaped, she'd forget all about our deal?"

  "No," he said. "But there might be a way out of this."

  I leaned forward at that. "There is? What is it?"

  He swiped a finger over his mouth and sat in the chair next to me. His shirt tightened as his biceps pressed against it. Strong arms. The kind made for curling into. My heart beat the song of cheer and happiness. Then I remembered a woman wanted to steal my magic. Which meant she'd probably skin me alive. Which meant I had no chance. This whole trip to Castle Witch really blew, you know? I mean majorly blew. I would take a trip to Fairyland over this any day of the week.

  He studied me. "There's a spell. A reversal spell. It works by making it so that anyone who tries a bit of magic on you automatically has the same thing happen to them."

  I knitted my brows. "But she'll skin me. She won't need to use magic."

  He folded his hands in his lap. "Same thing. It doesn't matter."

  I rose, anger boiling in my chest. "Why didn't anyone tell me about this spell ages ago? Like when Carrie tried to steal my magic? I mean, didn't that seem like the perfect opportunity?"

  It was only a few months ago that my old assistant at my dress shop, Perfect Fit, had tried to skin me alive. I narrowly escaped, thanks to Roman, who shot her dead.

  He leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs. "To be honest, you weren't ready at that time."

  I scoffed. "And what makes you think I'm ready now?"

  He studied me. "I don't know that you are."

  I threw up my hands. "Great. And what does that even mean? Why are you telling me about this if you don't think I'm ready for it?"

  "Because you need to know. In case something happens. Even after you leave here, you need to know this."

  I scratched my head. "And how are you even aware of this spell?"

  Roman rested an ankle on his knee. "Because my mother was Queen Witch, remember? I know a lot about witches. Which means I know a lot about you." He tipped his head. "Not a lot I understand, but a lot I know."

  "Ha-ha. Very funny."

  Quiet blanketed the room.

  "If you want to learn the spell, I'm afraid there are a few things you have to accept."

  I quirked my brow. "And what is that?"

  Roman leaned forward. He skimmed my cheek with the back of his fingers. I smiled.

  "Dylan," he whispered. The sound of my name on his lips sent a zing of energy up my spine. "You have to accept what you are. I know it's scary. I know this isn't anything you asked for, but it's what you are. I've dealt with witches my entire life. Once you understand how the culture works, it gets easier. But until then, you'll never be who you're supposed to be. Never unlock your power. You'll keep being a girl running from her magic, her potential, and everything that goes with it."

  He kissed the top of my forehead. I sat thinking it over.

  "But it's all so scary."

  "I know, darlin'. But I'm here. Your family's here. There's a web of support. You need to use it."

  I rested back in the chair and brought my fingers to my lips. I started to gnaw my nails but stopped. That wouldn't help me. Stupid worrying wouldn't do anything for me. I had to act. I had to learn. Gosh, I had to accept things.

  And let me tell y'all—I was in no mood for flat out trying to be all grown up.

  Looked like I was out of options.

  I took a deep breath. I had one choice—to survive this world, I finally had to embrace what I was. Even if the thought made my stomach feel like tumbling boulders were trapped inside.

  I fixed my face like iron. "All right," I said. "Tell me how to learn this spell."

  ***

  Five minutes later Roman was knocking on a door. Feet shuffled
and a heavy chain was lifted. The knob turned. The door opened, and there stood a little old lady with thick, round glasses, curling gray hair and a floral print dress.

  "Yes?"

  "Bertie, I've brought one for you," Roman said.

  Bertie's gaze washed me from head to foot. It was like the hundredth time that had happened since I'd been in the castle, and it was no less annoying. Why was I always being judged?

  "So you've brought me the queen," she said.

  "It's really just a temporary position," I said.

  "But queen nonetheless," she said. "Come in."

  She moved away from the door, and Roman led me inside. What I had assumed would be a small room was nothing of the kind. The ceiling vaulted practically to the heavens. Sunlight glinted in the room from two skylights. The space was filled with all sorts of knickknacks. There were vials labeled monkey skin, gnome's ears, bird beaks, eggs shells, nose of wart, googly eyes, sinking teeth and many more. There were also high-heeled witch's boots, hairpins, brooms of all shapes and sizes, and pointy hats.

  "What is this place?" My voice echoed. A chill set in my bones. I wrapped my hands around my arms to ward off the shivers. Polly flew on ahead, stopping to perch on the branch of a small potted tree. Perhaps he was tired of being around me all the time. If that was the case, I was fine with that. It didn't bother me one bit if he wanted to go sit somewhere else for a while.

  So it bothered me. Wasn't I good enough for him anymore? Okay, I'll quit my whining.

  "What is this place?" I whispered.

  "This is the castle museum," Bertie said.

  "I didn't know there was a museum," I murmured.

  Bertie stopped. Glanced back at me. "There's lots you don't know about the castle. These newbies. Think they know everything but really they don't know a thing."

  "Not a spit from a spat," I said.

  "Hmm?" Bertie said.

  I waved my hand. "Oh, nothing. I was just saying what my grandmother would have said."

  "Yes, Hazel always did have a way with words," Bertie said.

  "You could say that again."

  We wove past paper piled to the ceiling and a hill of broomstick ends. We reached a bubbling cauldron.

  "I thought this was a museum," I said.

  Bertie smiled. She adjusted her glasses and said, "It is. This is the Everlasting Cauldron. It always bubbles. Never stops. It's been here for five hundred years. You remember it, don't you, Roman? From when you were little?"

 

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