"Are you going to drive Sigmund?” Gareth asked.
"I was actually thinking about riding my broom," I said.
Gareth staggered backward and instinctively gripped the wall behind him for support, even though he easily could have glided straight through it.
"Why would you do such a thing?" Gareth asked.
I drew breath. "Because I want to tackle my fears. Dr. Hall thinks it's important that I don't avoid things that make me uncomfortable."
"It makes you more than uncomfortable," he argued. "It makes you vomit. It's a health and safety issue."
"Yes, I know how concerned you are with health and safety violations." When I first arrived in Spellbound, one of the first things I learned about Gareth was that he’d launched a petition to remove Holy water from the church due to health and safety issues for vampires.
"Let's go, Sedgwick," I said. "Pansy is probably already there waiting."
"Well, at least someone will be there as a witness if you drop out of the sky," Gareth said.
I took the broom out of the pantry and carried it out front. Sedgwick flew above me, offering his version of encouraging words.
Do your best not to die, he said.
"That’s the plan," I said. "Aside from that, I'm not really sure what to expect."
You took your anti-anxiety potion this morning, I hope.
“I did. I think if I don't have to worry about keeping down my breakfast that I'll be able to focus on flying.” I hoped anyway.
I swung one leg over the broom and said the magic words. “Take us off the grassy ground/to where birdsong is the only sound."
The broom began to rise and I resisted the urge to grip it tightly. I tried to keep calm so that my anxiety didn't spill over onto the broom. I was beginning to see how my energy affected things around me. I wobbled slightly in the air, tilting left and right before finding a sense of balance. I tried to channel Millie, even pretending that she was right behind me and actually flying the broom. I wanted to be better at this. I wanted to be better at everything. At living my life. I swore to myself that if Daniel snapped out of the spell, the first thing I would do is ask him how he felt about me. Of course, I'd already admitted my feelings, so maybe I would just be putting my feet in the fire to feel the burn. Regardless, I needed to be brave when it mattered most. Unlike vampires and ghosts, I only got one shot at my life. I had no interest in wasting it.
Where is this bridge? Sedgwick asked. We flew above Spellbound and, as always, I was mesmerized by its picturesque beauty. The clock tower. The church spire. The view from up here was inspiring. Although I certainly never dreamed of ending up in a place like this, I'd grown to love it in a very short time.
As we approached the part of the forest where the bridge was located, I began to slow my speed. Millie was much better at landings than I was. To be fair, Millie was much better at most things than I was. The trees were thicker and closer together than I anticipated and I found myself jerking the broom from side to side to avoid knocking into branches.
Steady now, Sedgwick called. You look like you're riding a bucking centaur.
I think I would actually be better at that, I replied.
A group of leaves smacked me in the face on the way down and a branch poked me in the eye. One hand let go of the broom to cover my eye and that was enough to send me into a tailspin. The broom circled and smacked into every branch it encountered on the way to the ground. I landed with a hard thud on the ground with my skirt yanked up over my head. Good thing I opted to wear underpants.
"Stars and stones, are you okay?" Pansy asked, rushing forward.
I sat up, dazed and confused. I pulled a few leaves from my hair. "I think so. Nothing to worry about. Just minor bruises."
And your sanity, Sedgwick added from above. He perched on a nearby branch to observe.
I yanked my skirt down and tried to regain my dignity. "So why did you want to meet here, Pansy?"
The petite elf glanced furtively around the forest, as though someone might be listening. "I didn't want Astrid to hear what I'm about to tell you. Her sister is friends with my brother. I’d prefer that none of this makes it back to him."
“But Astrid is the sheriff," I said.
"Exactly," Pansy said. "Whatever I say to her becomes part of the official record. I want this kept quiet. Please." Her green eyes implored me. Whatever she had to say, she was desperate to keep it secret.
"Okay, I'll keep it to myself."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Can you walk? We need to head up this path over here."
I wouldn't have noticed the path if she hadn't pointed it out. With the overgrown bushes and other evidence of nature run amok, it wasn't obvious. I followed her through the brambles and thicket until we reached a small building no larger than a simple log cabin.
"What is this place?" I asked.
She beckoned me forward. "Come and see." She opened the wooden door and I followed her inside.
It was a much smaller version of Quinty's workshop. There were two tables covered in gizmos and gadgets.
"I don't understand," I said. "Is this another one of your brother’s workshops?"
"No, this was Walter's place."
"Walter worked here, too?"
"He liked to tinker as much as Quinty,” Pansy said. "But my brother is very territorial. He likes to be the main inventor. Walter had ideas that he wanted to try, but Quinty was calling all the shots. So Walter decided to set up a secret workshop of his own and have a couple of pet projects."
I walked over to inspect some of the materials. In a large, clear box hung a set of transparent wings. I had no doubt they belonged to Jeremiah’s wife. Beside the box was a canister labeled ‘pixie dust.’ That was one problem solved.
"You’re Quinty’s sister," I said. "Why would he trust you with this information?" It was then that I noticed the personal space in the far corner of the room. A small dresser and a double bed. The troll was wide, but not so wide that he needed a double bed. Suddenly everything became painfully clear.
I glanced quickly at Pansy. "You two were having an affair?"
Her cheeks burned a fiery red. “I don’t like the word affair. We were in love and had been for a long time."
"Wow," I breathed. I hadn't been expecting that confession. "Do you think his wife found out about you? Do you think it's possible that she killed him in anger?"
“I doubt it,” Pansy said. “We were very careful and Marianne didn’t take much interest in Walter’s inventions.” Her brow creased. “There was an incident near work one day, though, and it wasn’t too long ago.”
“With Marianne?”
Pansy shook her head and her ponytail swished from side to side. “No, her best friend. A fairy called Venla. She’s a facialist over at Glow.”
“What did she see?” I asked. If she got an eyeful, she may have run straight back to Marianne.
“Not much,” Pansy admitted. “We were holding hands. Walter spotted her first and moved his hand away, but I’m not sure whether he was quick enough.”
There was only one way to find out.
“Thank you for telling me the truth,” I said. “I understand your reluctance to come forward, but if you were close to Walter, your information could lead to his killer.”
Pansy sniffed. “I miss him terribly. I keep coming back here expecting to see him hunched over a project.” She hugged her chest. “What’s harder is not being able to grieve openly. He was the love of my life, but I’m expected to mourn him like a co-worker.”
I didn’t envy Pansy. It was a difficult situation.
“Did he love Marianne?” I asked.
“As a friend,” Pansy said.
“Then why didn’t he leave?” They didn’t have children. There was nothing tying him to Marianne.
Pansy fiddled with a lever. “He thought she was too fragile. That a separation would break her.”
I tapped the clear container with the pixie wings. “Do
you know what he needed these for?”
Pansy’s expression brightened. “His big project. He was sure this would be his breakthrough.”
I glanced around at the disorganized table and tried to discern exactly what the project was. “What am I looking at?”
“A flying machine,” Pansy replied and I detected a note of pride in her voice. “He wanted to invent a contraption that allowed non-magic users to fly around town the way you fly on your broomstick.”
Like a magical jetpack. Impressive. “Was he successful?”
“On the verge,” Pansy said. “He needed more money…” She trailed off and I sensed a story there.
“Where did he get the money to start it in the first place?”
She bit her lip, unsure whether to continue.
“Pansy,” I said. “If you want to help catch Walter’s killer, then I need to know everything you know, even if you think it’s unrelated.”
Pansy sighed. “Lord Gilder commissioned it.”
My brow lifted. “Lord Gilder? Why?”
“He dabbles in a lot of ventures,” Pansy said. “That was how the vampires started the blood bank co-op. It was Lord Gilder’s idea.”
Clever vampire. “Why did Walter need more funding?”
“I don’t know the details,” Pansy said. “Walter didn’t want to talk about it. They’d had a disagreement and Lord Gilder pulled the remainder of his funding.”
A disagreement. Well, that was definitely a solid lead.
“Please don’t tell him I’m the one who told you,” Pansy said. “I don’t want to be on his bad side.” She shivered. “He frightens me.”
“Really? I’ve found him to be delightful.” Lorenzo Mancini, on the other hand, was another story.
Pansy gripped my arm, her eyes brimming with tears. “You won’t tell anyone about me, will you? I don’t want Marianne or Quinty to know.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to confide in your brother?” I asked. “It might help you grieve to share your good memories with someone else who knew him well.”
Pansy shook her head. “It’s my burden to bear. I won’t saddle my brother with the weight of it.”
I gave her a quick hug. “Don’t worry. We’ll find his killer.”
“I believe you.”
I released her and gestured to the wings and pixie dust. “Would you mind if I take these with me? I know someone who’s missing them.”
“Please do. The project is done now anyway.” She glanced around the workshop, the sadness rolling off of her in waves.
“Are you coming?” I asked, heading for the door.
“I think I’ll stay here for a while longer,” she said.
I nodded and left her alone with her thoughts.
Chapter 15
On the way to my office, I noticed a crowd gathered in front of the Great Hall. A few signs waved in the air and I tried to get a good look at the messages. Freedom to Pee was written on one in bright yellow paint. I was pretty sure the drips were intentional. Another one read Shift Free or Die. So this was a shifter protest. As I drew closer, I heard the chant of ‘the Buck stops here.’
Oh no. They were protesting the charges against Buck. This was the last thing I needed. I elbowed my way through the crowd until I located a familiar face.
"Alex," I exclaimed. "I thought you were going to do this through the proper channels."
Alex gave me a regretful look. "The mayor refused to put us on the calendar for the council meeting. We didn't feel like we had a choice. If they refuse to hear our voices through official channels, then this is the only option."
I surveyed the chanting shifters. At least it was a peaceful protest. For now.
"Is anyone even in the Great Hall right now?" I asked. If not, the protest was like a tree falling in the woods.
"Not right now," Alex admitted. "But we’re getting the attention of the community. Plenty of residents are passing by and wanting to know what the protest is about."
"It's all about drawing attention to the cause," Patsy said.
"Listen, I'm on your side," I said. "I just feel like there's a lot going on in town right now and sometimes timing is crucial to success."
"Easy for you to say when you can be yourself all day every day," Patsy sneered.
"Yeah, and you can pee anywhere you like," another werewolf said.
I frowned. "Well, that’s not entirely true." Because I had the bladder of a woman pregnant with triplets, I had to make sure I was aware of the nearest bathroom at all times. That was how I coped.
"I've got the urge to urinate right now," a werewolf said and began to unzip his jeans.
Alex placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Let's keep this civil, Franklin. No need to rile people up. We want them to support us, not be disgusted by us."
"You callin’ your own kind disgusting?" Franklin shot back.
Alex put his face an inch from Franklin's. "You know perfectly well that's not what I’m saying. If you have a problem with me, then you can take it up at the next pack meeting."
Franklin quickly backed down. "’Course not. Tensions are running high is all."
"That minotaur is walking around with his horns on display, but we still can't shift in the middle of the day," LuAnn said. "It's discrimination."
The shifters had a point. On the other hand, Markos in minotaur form was more of a hybrid. When a werewolf shifted to a wolf, there was no human element left. It was a full shift to an animal form.
"Where's Buck?" I asked, glancing at the sea of faces.
"I told him to stay behind," Alex said. "I didn't want to do anything that would hurt his case."
“I thank you for that, Alex," I said. I didn't need anything to make my job more difficult, especially now with so many other distractions.
Noise erupted from the far side of the crowd and Alex and I moved over to investigate.
"Why should we disperse?" Patsy demanded.
"This is a peaceful protest," another voice said. "We have every right to be here."
"According to regulation 5631-42, you need a permit.” I recognized the voice of Stan, the town registrar.
"Did anyone apply for a permit?" a female voice yelled.
Shouts of ‘no’ echoed back at her.
Stan bowed his head. "Then I'm afraid you need to break up this party. I'm sorry. Rules are rules."
I closed my eyes and heaved a disappointed sigh. Spellbound was far too reliant on rules and regulations. Making them disperse was only going to increase their irritability.
Franklin shoved his way through the crowd and stood in front of Stan. “Well now, I’m going to leave you with a mark of my dissatisfaction.” He unzipped his trousers and relieved himself. The urine streamed to the ground, forming a puddle at the edge of Stan’s shoes.
To his credit, Stan didn’t react. Instead, he glanced at me and said, “You and I were never here.”
“Never where?” I said, stepping away from the crowd.
I heard Alex behind me, calling for the pack to listen and follow orders. It was like trying to herd cats…or werewolves.
I made an appointment at Glow for the next day. My first fairy facial. I had no idea what to expect, especially considering I’d never had a facial in the human world. Extras like that were not in my budget. I also wasn't convinced that a facial was beneficial for anything other than your self-esteem. There was no science to suggest it actually helped your skin.
I turned up at Glow at eleven o'clock on the dot. I made sure to keep my face pure. No makeup or moisturizer. I couldn’t help but look around in wonder at the sparkling interior of the salon. The enchanted salon tools never ceased to amaze me.
A fairy hovered by the reception desk, a lemon yellow wand in her hand.
"I'm here to see Venla,” I said. "I have an appointment for a facial."
“Great! She’ll be with you in a moment."
Two minutes later a fairy fluttered in from a back room. She smiled at the sight of me
.
"You must be my eleven o'clock,” Venla said. "Come on back."
I followed the fairy to a stylish yet comfortable room at the back of the salon. She patted the cushioned table.
"Make yourself comfortable," she said. "Put your head here and make sure you’re facing up."
"Well, I'd be mighty impressed if you managed to do it with my face down."
"Have you decided which facial you'll be having today?" Venla asked.
"I've never had a facial before, so I don't know," I said. "What are my choices?"
Venla’s wings ground to a halt. "You've never had a facial?"
"No, I was both time poor and cash poor in the human world."
Venla’s eyes widened. "Oh, you’re Emma Hart."
“Yes, your eleven o'clock."
Venla fluttered closer to me and began to inspect my face. "In that case, let me take a look at your skin and I'll let you know which facial I recommend." She produced a mirror seemingly from out of nowhere and held it up to my face. I instinctively shrank away. Every feature on my face looked enormous. My eyelashes looked like black licorice and my pores looked large enough to walk a camel through them.
"Stars and stones,” I said, closing my eyes. “Does it have to be so close?"
“I’m just having a closer look at your skin type. It's very dry. Do you moisturize?"
"Every morning," I said.
"Not in the evening? After you've washed your face?"
"Should I?"
"If you want to have this beautiful skin in twenty more years, then I highly recommend it." She continued to scrutinize my skin. "A few wrinkles, but nothing to worry about at this stage."
A slow panic began to build. "A few wrinkles?"
"Like I said, nothing to worry about at this stage. You're still young. If you take good care of your skin from here on out, you'll have no problems."
"I have to worry about my skin, too?" I already felt the weight of the world on my shoulders. I didn't really want to add crypt keeper skin to the long list of things to panic about.
"I recommend either the fizz whiz facial or the sparkleberry infusion," Venla said.
"I have no idea what either one of those entails, but I’ll leave it to your professional judgment."
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