by K. J. Emrick
Sweeping up after everyone else had left was a tedious but simple chore. It was just taking her longer than usual. It was like every joint in her body ached tonight. Usually Addie would help her clean up, but for the last two nights she’d been picked up early by that cute police detective. Were they dating? Probably, Darla thought sourly. Cute girls like Addie could always find a man to call their own.
The broom swept at the floor harder, shoving food crumbs ahead of the bristles with a vengeance.
It wasn’t fair that the Kilorian sisters had everything they wanted, and wouldn’t share it with her.
Darla knew their secret, oh yes she did. Those three were witches. Not the fluffy cartoon variety, either. The real deal. It had taken her months to figure out, and once she did she hadn’t thought of hardly anything else except what that might mean for her. Witches had powers. They could do things like keep themselves young, or make someone fall in love with them. That was common knowledge. Anyone who had ever watched a Disney film knew that.
Why couldn’t they share just a little bit of that magic for someone like her, Darla griped as she continued to sweep up. It wasn’t fair. She’d done everything but tell Addie point blank that she wanted to be part of their coven or whatever they called it. That selfish woman was still keeping all the power for herself. Well, she deserved to be given a share of what the Kilorians had. She was a loyal friend, a dedicated employee. She deserved to wake up every morning and rejuvenate herself with a spell. She wanted to be young again. She wanted to not feel old.
Something clattered under the broom as she reached into a corner. Grumbling about how the universe itself was against her, Darla gradually brought the little something out where she could see it.
It was just a little stone. A rock of some kind, dark grey, almost black, in color, nothing special about it at all.
Oh, but when she picked it up, and held it… she could feel a thrum of power resonating through her palm.
There it was. Magic. There was the very thing that she wanted for herself.
Power.
It must be some kind of talisman, she decided. Some kind of… something… that would give her what she wanted. If she rubbed it, like this, or maybe touched it to her forehead and thought really hard about her greatest desires, like this. Nothing. What was she supposed to do with this?
Angrily, she clutched the rock as hard as she could and then chucked it on the floor.
“I wish I was anywhere but here!” she shouted.
And in the next instant, she was.
Blinking her eyes, Darla looked around her. The broom wasn’t in her hands anymore. For that matter, the café wasn’t here, either. Well. This wasn’t the magic she’d been hoping for, but it was still magic.
She looked around her for the stone. She wanted to pick it up again and save it for the next time she wanted to be somewhere else. If she could figure out how it worked, harness its power, then perhaps she could use it to spy on Addie and her sisters. Maybe that way, she could learn their secrets and take them for herself, since they weren’t going to just give them to her like they should.
The stone was gone. Was it still back in the café? What good was it, then? If every time she used it she had no way of getting back to where she started, what good was this?
Muttering to herself she tried to at least figure out where ‘here’ was.
The lights were on overhead, in a high ceiling of a huge room full of metal shelves. There were cardboard boxes as far as the eye could see. It was damp here, and a little cold. A basement. Fantastic. She’d ended up in someone’s basement.
Ooh, wait a minute. She felt her eyes widen as a thought occurred to her. She had been thinking of spying on the Kilorians. Could this be their basement? She could be in their house! Well, well. Her luck was turning out okay after all.
So in these boxes all around her must be all of the Kilorian’s magic secrets. There could be magic wands, or more of those stones that had brought her here in the first place. Spell books, too. She wandered from row to row, running a hand over the boxes, wondering what amazing things she might find.
A noise around the next row of shelves caught her attention. She hesitated, afraid it might be Addie or Willow or even that other sister, Kiera, who hardly ever came into town anymore. If she was caught here, what would she say?
Darla puffed her chest up and boldly walked out into view. She’d just say that she was looking for Addie, and the door was unlocked, and she was sorry for the intrusion but she needed to know what Addie wanted done about ordering more… uh… napkins. Right. Napkins.
There was no one there. A giant water heater stood in the corner, humming and ticking. That must have been what she heard.
With a sigh of relief, Darla turned her attention back to the shelves. Where to start?
The noise happened again, right behind her.
Whirling around, she stomped her foot, putting her hands on her hips. “Well? Who’s there? Come on, show yourselves!”
Up against the wall, a shadow moved.
For some reason she couldn’t understand, Darla’s skin crawled.
The shadow detached itself from the corner, taking on definition and shape. Long arms. Long legs. A hunched back. It was just a man, Darla realized. Just somebody down here in the basement with her.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Are you part of Addie’s family? What are you, like a cousin? Well? Speak up. What are you doing here?”
“Hiding,” was the answer, spoken with a slurring, rustling kind of speech.
“Is that so. Well. That means you don’t belong here, now doesn’t it?” Darla had a thought, that if she caught an intruder in the Kilorian’s home, they might finally open up to her and take her into their trust. That might be a quicker way of getting what she wanted, rather than searching through those hundreds of boxes out there. “How about you and me go upstairs and find one of the sisters to explain yourself, hmm?”
“Hiding.”
“Yeah, yeah, you said that. Hiding from what?”
One arm reached up, a long finger pointing in Darla’s direction.
“Show you.”
In the next instant the shadows rushed at her and she opened her mouth to scream only she couldn’t, because an entity of purest evil was rushing inside of her. Everything went black, and she passed out.
When she woke up, she was back in the Hot Cauldron Café. She was sitting in a chair at one of the tables, and her broom was in her hand.
“Huh. Must’ve dozed off,” she said to herself. Clearing her throat, embarrassed that she had dreamed something that stupid, Darla went back to sweeping, complaining to herself about how old she felt, and how tired…
Only, she didn’t feel tired anymore. She felt better than she had in a very long time.
As she swept now, she began whistling a song she’d heard on the radio. There was a spring in her step. In no time, the chore was done.
She went to the storage closet to put the broom away before closing up the café for the night.
Behind her, on the floor, her shadow twisted and writhed with silent laughter.
-End-
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About the Author’s
K.J. Emrick
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Kathrine Emrick writing as K.J. Emrick is the author of the popular Darcy Sweet Mystery series and the Pine Lake Inn Cozy Mystery series.
Strongly influenced by authors like James Patterson, Dick Francis, and Nora Roberts, Kathrine Emrick dreamed of being an author for the majority of her life.
She never quite gave up on the idea of being a published author and at the age of 51, thanks to the self-publishing explosion, she finally realized her dream. Her maturity allows her to bring a variety of experiences and observations to her writing.
She lives in beautiful South Australia with her family, including several animals. Kathrine can always be found jotting down daily notes in a journal and like many authors, she loves to be surrounded by books and is a voracious reader. In her spare time, she enjoys spending time with her family and volunteering at the local library.
Her goal is to regularly produce entertaining and noteworthy content and engaging in a community of readers and writers.
To find out more please visit the Kathrine's website at kathrineemrick.com
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S. Joseph Wells
S. Joseph Wells is a native of Northern New York, where his gift for writing was born and raised not far from the Canadian border. He spent several years there working in law enforcement before returning to his true passion…writing.
It seems his imagination has always run on a short leash, bringing him to places where fantasy and reality mix, places where the most interesting characters live and love and play and tell him their stories with a cheeky grin or a malevolent smirk.
When he isn’t completely losing track of time while walking down the twisted pathways of plotline and prose he is hanging out with his family, nurturing the imaginations of his three sons and repeating every Canadian joke he hears to his very patient and very beautiful wife (who happens to be from Canada).