Meanwhile, the coven seemed to be ignoring the threat. The three coven queens who ruled us made no mention of the Vixens. The Young Witches meetings I went to, run by the daughter of one of those queens, also left us in the dark.
Still, I lived happily in a cottage with my cousin Lowe and my grandmother Bethel. We sold goods at the farmers market and made do with the income we made from selling unicorn dung. Secretly, I thought longingly of the day when my sister Ethel could return home and I could get to know her. In the meantime, I would enjoy the snow.
Our neighbors Lisa and Lucky had spent an entire day decorating the road in preparation for the Twinkleford holidays. They wrapped green garlands along the old fence post and even tried to do more of the same in the trailer park. The two former witches had received a wide variety of responses from park residents. Some trailer dwellers were fine with their cheery efforts, others wanted to be left alone. Our neighbors already knew who was who, and they gave the latter crowd a wide berth.
When I asked Bethel about it she just shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to partake in polite society. Most of us don’t think we were bred for politeness anyway. Just curl up by the fire with a good book and no one will be the wiser.”
I hadn’t had anything to snoop into recently. The mysterious organization known as the Vixens had gone quiet, and everyone else had gone quiet on the subject of the Vixens. I hadn’t heard anyone say a word about them for weeks. My days were filled with helping care for the unicorns, closing up the garden, canning, getting ready for the winter season of indoor farmers markets, and attending Young Witches Meetings, which might have been fun if Hannah and Taylor didn’t exist.
It will surprise no one who knows anything about her that Hannah was being incredibly high-handed with the workload she was handing out to the rest of us. Yet every other week she herself took time off from the sort of duties she handed out to other Young Witches. When she did have work, it was something like feeding the ducks or reading to future coven members.
She gave the rest of us loads to do. If we are all more capable, she said, she could stop expecting us to prove ourselves.
I thought she just liked being bossy.
In my free time I saw my friends Jackie and Kelly, sometimes with Lowe coming along too. We would stroll past the storefronts downtown or grab something to eat in the sandwich shop. In Twinkleford there was always something to do or someone to talk about. The town had a remarkable theater company, so we often went to the plays that were put on weekly. They were always original and entertaining, sometimes dark and mysterious and sometimes light-hearted and fun. No matter what, we enjoyed them.
With the onslaught of poor weather, the trolley was always more packed. My cousin explained that many townsfolk liked to travel on foot in good weather. Long walks were a Twinkleford staple, offering townsfolk a chance to see and be seen. Besides, many people in town were remarkably nosy, and a good walk gave them an excellent opportunity to gather gossip . . . or dispense it.
When the weather was terrible, those long walks were less pleasant. “You would need a motorized sleigh or toboggan to get around easily,” Lowe pointed out.
Of everyone I knew, Quinn Merchant was probably the happiest about the snow. The Sheriff of Twinkleford was half mermaid, so it was easy for him to love the white stuff. Given that he came from water, I shouldn’t have been surprised by his joy. He worked long hours, but he sometimes had his evenings free, and that’s when we would see each other.
Quinn and I had gone on several incredible dates recently. I was always happy being with him, and the time flew past. Despite the fact that we were so different, I felt entirely myself and comfortable with him.
One thing we didn’t discuss, however, even after that night by the pond, was my sister, or what had happened to my mother. Quinn had also been caught up in the attack that had killed my mother, and he walked with a bad limp as a result of his injuries.
The sheriff was never going to get completely better from those injuries, nor, I suspected, was he ever going to stop searching for who or what had created the explosion that had injured him and killed my mom. Even so, it wasn’t something we were ready to discuss, not that I had any information on the topic anyhow. But that fateful blast had given us a unique connection, and provided him with a unique connection to my entire family.
One thing I hadn’t seen yet was Quinn’s house. He was reluctant to have me over, so much so that it had become a bone of contention between us. Either we went out, or he came to my house. I didn’t mind having him hang out with my family, but there had to be limits on such things, and Bethel didn’t recognize limits, she always took it too far. She was more than happy to spend the entire evening playing games with us, and she usually did just that. The result was that Quinn and I were essentially going on dates chaperoned by my grandmother. Given that she had gone to great lengths, at some personal sacrifice, to give Quinn protective ingredients when his life was in danger, I shouldn’t have been surprised that she kept a close eye on us. I just wished she’d keep a little more distance, maybe measured in terms of feet rather than inches.
Well, little did I know that I was about to have my wish. Like it or not.
Chapter Three
There were a few things that the unicorns were particular about. For starters, if they could have Bethel taking care of their every need, they preferred that to having anyone else come near them. Even when my cousin and I went out to help Bethel with the blankets, the unicorns were reluctant to let us near. This was to say nothing of how difficult they were when their shoes needed to be changed. She had scolded them on numerous occasions about rude behavior, but the colder the weather, the more restless they became.
The white creatures could best be described as Bethel’s spoiled favorite children. Unlike real children, she actually wanted them.
If, witches forbid, they had to accept one of us other cretins as their caretakers for any period of time, we had a checklist that we had to go through in order to manage the tasks properly. To stray from the list was to invite disaster.
First of all, we were expected to approach them politely, and from where they could see us easily. We were further expected to understand every eye twitch and head toss as if they had just expressed a paragraph of information on their wants and desires in that moment. It was much like a relationship after the shiny new feelings of love had worn off. I wouldn’t say in a good way.
If all of that went well, we had to get them handfuls of overnight hay. The unicorns liked the hay soaked in sunlight. Cloudy nights were the worst. They did not like cloudy-tasting hay.
One morning I came downstairs right after it had snowed. We usually kept the fire in the kitchen going all night, so I was in a rush to get near the heat and warm myself up. The old house was drafty in the summer and downright freezing at this time of year. For once Bethel was inside when I appeared for breakfast. She was sitting next to the crackling fire, reading quietly.
Lowe was there as already well. In big pajamas and slippers, with a hat on to boot, she was just getting breakfast going. “Do you want some yogurt and tea?” she asked. There were dark circles under her eyes, and she followed the question with a yawn. When the weather was cold she preferred to sleep in.
I told her I did, and said good morning to my grandmother.
“What are you doing today?” she asked. She had set the table for both of us, and we sat down to eat.
“I have to go into town,” I said. “There are a couple of errands I need to run. I also want to do some crystal ball work. Hannah is supposed to hand out more assignments soon, and I want to enjoy my free time while I still have it.”
“What about Quinn? Any plan to see him?” Lowe asked slyly.
I nearly choked on my yogurt. I could feel my grandmother’s interest in the conversation intensifying.
“We were going to see each other this weekend,” I said. “He’s busy with a case. I guess a couple of bicycles have bee
n stolen recently, and he’s trying to get to the bottom of it.”
“Fascinating,” said Lowe.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
“More canning,” she said dejectedly. It was the time of year when Lowe was trying to store away all the goods she possibly could for the winter. In fact, she was behind on the job. She should have finished it a long time ago, but the fall had been so busy that she hadn’t kept up.
Bethel had been quiet as Lowe and I talked. It wasn’t until now that I realized how strange that was. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that she had set her book on her lap and removed her half-moon spectacles. Now she was just rocking gently back and forth.
“What are you doing today, Grandmother?” Lowe asked her.
“Packing,” she said easily.
Lowe and I turned to her in surprise. This was news. “Packing for where?” I demanded. My grandmother had not left Twinkleford once since my arrival in town. What she could possibly be packing for I had no idea.
“I’m going away for a few days,” she said. Rock, Rock, Rock went the chair she was sitting in.
“When?” Lowe demanded.
“Tonight,” said Bethel.
Neither of us knew what to say.
“Don’t looked so shell-shocked,” said our grandmother.
“Just what are you going away for?” Lowe demanded.
“I think the newfangled term is retreat. I’m going to find myself. I’m very excited about it,” said Bethel. Now that we were looking at her with some attention, we could see the truth in her statement. She was relaxed and smiling in a way I had certainly never seen before.
It worried me.
“What are you retreating from?” I asked. I was pretty sure that my stepmother Blossom had said something about a retreat once, but on that occasion my impression had been that it was a rich spoiled woman thing. My grandmother could be described in a lot of ways, but that wasn’t one of them.
Lowe covered her mouth with her hand and giggled. I turned to look at her as I saw Bethel smile.
“Spunk said something funny,” said Lowe by way of explanation for the giggle.
Tiger and Spunk, two of our cats, had come into the room and curled up by the fire while we were eating breakfast. It was common practice for witches to be able to understand cat speech, but I hadn’t inherited that ability. As a result, I perpetually found myself left out of conversations and frustrated because of it. Lowe did her best to include me, but Bethel usually didn’t bother.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“He suggested that Grandmother was retreating from annoying granddaughters. Tiger said it wasn’t a bad idea,” said Lowe. “He might take her up on the idea as well.”
“To go on a retreat, you must be missing something you want to find. What are you missing?” I asked Bethel.
“Look, you’re adults now,” she said, ignoring my question. “Well, Lowe is almost an adult. Jade, you’ve been here for a span of months. You know how to take care of the unicorns by yourself. You can handle it here without me for a few days. The summer was very busy. I’m sure this time of year will be nice and quiet.” She looked quite assured in her assessment.
“Maybe she’s in search of compassion. Part of her soul has been missing for years,” said Lowe, giving a wink in my direction.
I covered my mouth to smother a giggle. Both cats looked at me. Bethel maintained a dignified silence.
“I guess that’s settled then. If you’re leaving, there’s only one more question. Do you need help packing?” Lowe asked.
“That’s very thoughtful of you, but I don’t think I do,” said our grandmother. “I might need help getting to the trolley later, though. Someone can carry my suitcase.”
“We’d be happy to help,” said Lowe.
“Oh, I’m sure you would,” said Bethel.
The day passed quietly, just as I had said it would, and eventually I made my way downtown. I wanted to see my friends even more now that Bethel was going away.
Kelly was working these days, and so was Jackie, who was still in the mayor’s office. The mayor happened to be her mother, and there was always pressure on her to live up to high expectations. Kelly’s family ran a big farm, much larger than the small garden the Rhinestones operated. There was always something for her to do.
When I arrived home that evening Bethel was ready to walk out the door. “Turn right around. I want you both to walk me to the trolley. I have something to say.”
Lowe gave me a look that was essentially, “Here we go.” We had expected this. Despite how excited Bethel seemed to be at the prospect of going off to find herself, we knew she couldn’t leave the farmhouse in our hands without giving us a lecture first. I took her suitcase as she put on her coat, and the three of us headed out into the cold night.
She started in immediately. “Now, I left a list for you two on the fridge. Unicorns are going to need taking care of. It isn’t the most glamorous work, but you two are the future of the Rhinestone family, and you’ll have to get used to it sooner or later. There’s a number where you can reach me. Only dial it in the most extreme of emergencies. I don’t want my search interrupted.”
We passed Lisa and Lucky as we walked along. The mother-daughter duo appeared to be deep in conversation, but they waved to us with big smiles when they finally noticed us. Lisa was dressed warmly in a thick, bulky coat. They were both wearing hats. It was that time of year.
“Where are you off to?” Lisa asked.
“On a trip. I’ll be away for a few days,” said Bethel.
“Where are you going?” Lucky asked her daughter’s question again, not having gotten a straight answer the first time.
“On a retreat,” said Bethel.
“You never struck me as the sort of woman who retreated,” said Lucky with a twinkle in her eye.
“I’m old. It’s good to try new things now and again,” said Bethel.
We all laughed, but Lowe shifted a little uncomfortably. This was the first time Bethel had ever gone away for any length of time. When it had been just the two of them and Lowe was younger, Bethel never left her alone.
“Well, good luck finding yourself. I’m sure it’ll go splendidly,” said Lisa.
Our neighbors kept walking toward their own house, the crunch of their boots on the snow fading into the distance as we kept going toward the trolley. When we rounded the bend near the trailer park, the pungent smell of meat hit me square in the face.
“How is anyone still grilling at this time of year?” Lowe asked.
Lester used his tongs to wave to us. He was a big fan of sports and grilling, and he didn’t need much else in life. He worked on a plowing crew in the winter and a road crew in the summer. Bethel suspected that he was part ogre, but no one would ever have dreamed of asking him.
All three of us waved back. “Good night?” Bethel asked.
“Clear sky, good food. What more do you need in life?” Lester called back with a laugh. He was a jolly fellow and always very kind. Nothing seemed to faze the man. It was one of the things I liked about him.
The trailer park was more buttoned down in the colder months than it was in the summer. Tarps were spread over structures and windows were shuttered. When the power went out, which happened occasionally, the trailers had to take turns being hooked up to a generator. The residents liked bonfires, so they often came outside to light them. It was the warmest any of us were usually going to get in Twinkleford’s winter.
“Do you have anything else to tell us?” Lowe asked. She was clearly getting a bit stressed at the imminent departure of her grandmother.
“Behave yourselves. I know a lot has happened in Twinkleford since Jade got here. But things have been quieter lately, and it would be nice if that continued, at least for a few more days while I’m away,” said Bethel.
“We always behave ourselves,” said Lowe. “Except that one time.”
“I counted more than one time, but who’s to sa
y,” said Bethel. “Also, do not have boys spend the night. Not under my roof. I won’t have either of you becoming troublesome while I’m away.” She was now looking straight at me, and my toes curled inside my boots. “I wouldn’t think of it.” That was totally a lie. Of course I had thought of it.
The thought of having Quinn over gave me shivers.
I wasn’t the least bit cold.
Bethel kept up the string of instructions as we walked.
The leftmost burner on the stove needed to be handled with care. It was the most difficult to light.
The pixies and fairies needed grain distributed to them at different times. Otherwise they’d fight over it.
The unicorns would mostly tell us what they needed. The only thing was, they had become more accustomed to warm hay. That meant we’d have to take the hay from the bottom of the pile in the barn to feed them, and the hay we had shifted would have to be shifted back in place to cover the next meal’s worth.
Unicorns were very particular creatures. It was bad enough that Bethel would be gone; to disrupt their routine even further was unthinkable. If they weren’t given the right nutrients, they might not produce the proper poop. Then the Rhinestones would be in big trouble.
“Remember,” Bethel said, “our power is hanging on by a thread. We’re already in the trailer park. You might think it couldn’t get much worse, but it can. We must be very careful with what makes us valuable. Specifically, unicorn dung. Of course, unicorns themselves are living and breathing animals, but I’m more worried about you two in relation to them than the other way around.”
Bethel didn’t need to tell me that our situation could be worse. I had seen what happened to my former classmate Glory Trophi and her family, and I knew what worse was. When Glory had failed to pass the examination on debutante weekend, her family had been cast out of the coven in the first ritual I had ever attended.
The Rhinestone Witches Omnibus: Books 1-3 Page 47