All Spell Breaks Loose

by Annabel Chase

  “How did you do that?” I asked. “You’re a ghost.”

  He eyed me curiously. “Stupidity isn’t your usual brand of humor. What’s going on?”

  I tried to pull on the leggings without toppling over. I finally gave up and sat on the edge of the bed to do it. Graceful, I was not.

  Once I was fully clothed, I felt comfortable enough to broach the topic. “I don’t remember you.”

  “That’s quite a hangover,” he said, clearly amused.

  “It’s not a…” My hand moved to my pulsing head. “Okay, I do have a hangover, but that’s got nothing to do with my memory. I know I live here and I feel like I shouldn’t be afraid of you, but I don’t remember you.”

  Gareth placed the hanger back in the closet and closed the door. “Do you remember anyone?”

  “Begonia and Demetrius brought me home last night,” I said. “I don’t remember them, though. They said their names. He’s a vampire, too.” I cocked my head. “What’s she?”

  “A witch,” he said, kneading his eyebrows together. “How about Daniel?”

  “Nope.”

  “Big oaf of an angel,” Gareth continued. “Looks like a Swedish lumberjack with wings.”

  “He’s an angel?” I queried.

  “I prefer the term earthly-challenged.”

  “You’re sort of earthly-challenged yourself,” I said, gesturing to the fact that he was floating above the floor.

  “Did Begonia notice your memory issue last night?”

  “She thought I was drunk.” Which I was.

  “You must have had a lot to drink last night,” Gareth said. “Perhaps one of the beverages messed with your mind. Some Spellbound drinks are bloody potent.”

  I snapped my fingers. “Spellbound! The name was on the tip of my tongue. I remembered Lemon Grove, Pennsylvania, but I knew I lived somewhere else now.”

  “Do you remember what you are?” Gareth asked.

  I peeked down my top. “Female?”

  Gareth rolled his eyes. “No, which type of paranormal you are.”

  “I’m human.”

  “Not exactly.” He rubbed his hands together in a nervous gesture. “I need to send for help.”

  “How will you do that if you’re a ghost?”

  “You’ll need to send Sedgwick.”

  “Who’s Sedgwick?” I asked.

  Gareth covered his face with his hands. “I don’t have the patience for this. He’s your familiar. An owl, not a cat.”

  “Oh, I like owls,” I said. “Owl from Winnie the Pooh was one of my favorite characters. He always pretended to know more than he did. Because he’s an owl, everyone expected him to be smart.” I smiled fondly at the memory of my father reading Winnie the Pooh at bedtime. My heart ached at the thought of my dad. It felt good to have some memories.

  “Sounds like your owl,” Gareth said. “Pretending to be smarter than he is.”

  “My familiar isn’t very bright?” I asked, crestfallen. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “We need to send an urgent message to Lady Weatherby and ask her to gather the council.”

  “My memory loss is that serious?” I queried.

  “Under the circumstances, it would be prudent.” He scratched his head. “I suppose I should send word to Daniel as well. Your groom has a right to know.”

  My throat tightened. “My groom?”

  “Aye, but don’t worry, lass. You’re quite in love. It’s rather sickening.”

  “When am I getting married?” I asked. I checked my ring finger and, sure enough, a beautiful jewel sparkled back at me.

  Gareth’s interest was suddenly drawn to the floorboards. “Next week,” he mumbled.

  “Next week!” I shrieked. My pulse quickened. “How can I marry someone I don’t remember?”

  “It would be a terrible shame to call the whole thing off,” Gareth said, in a way that suggested he wasn’t sorry at all. “I’m happy to assist you in any way I can, though.”

  I frowned. “You don’t like my big oaf of an angel?”

  Gareth plucked an imaginary thread from his transparent shirt. “He’s fine.”

  “Where’s this owl of mine? We need to get the messages sent out right now.”

  He chuckled. “There’s the brutal taskmaster I know and ignore.”

  I noticed a perch in the corner of the room. “Is that where he hangs out?”

  “The window is open,” Gareth said. “He must be hunting in the woods. Stick your head out the window and whistle loudly.”

  I hesitated. “He won’t come back with a mouse, will he?” The only mouse I liked was called Mickey.

  “No,” Gareth said, and I immediately felt relieved. “He swallows them whole.”

  Blargh.

  I leaned out the window, put my lips together, and blew.

  You rang, Your Highness?

  I turned to face Gareth. “Why did you change your voice?”

  “I didn’t, you bampot.”

  A jumble of feathers came flying through the open window and landed on the perch. Since when does Gareth have adorable nicknames for you? That’s my job.

  I touched the sides of my head. “I can hear your voice in my thoughts.”

  Congratulations, Socrates. You’ve got it all figured out. What’s the emergency?

  “The emergency…” There was a telepathic owl and a vampire ghost in my room. That was the emergency.

  “Tell him,” Gareth prodded.

  “I’ve lost my memories,” I said. “At least some of them. We need to send a message to the council and my big oaf of an angel.”

  Daniel?

  “Yes, Daniel.” Important to remember the name of my husband-to-be.

  You need to write the note, Sedgwick said. I’m an owl, in case you haven’t noticed. The quill is in the office downstairs.

  “Oh, right.” I hurried downstairs behind Gareth and he directed me to the office. “This house is beautiful. I love the interior decorating. Did you do it?”

  “Aye,” Gareth said. “I love bright colors and plenty of sunlight. Reflects my cheerful personality.”

  I got the distinct impression that he was lying. I found the quill on a desk and grabbed a piece of parchment.

  “I’ll tell Daniel to meet me at the council meeting.” I paused. “Where is that?”

  “The Great Hall,” Gareth said. “Ask the council to convene an emergency meeting in an hour.”

  “Does it take that long to get there?” I asked.

  “No,” Gareth replied, “but we need to spend a little quality time on your hair before you go.”

  I hovered near the town square, uncertain where to go. Sedgwick disappeared halfway into town and I had no clue where to go.

  “What are you doing out here?” A woman with pink wings fluttered beside me, wearing a concerned expression. “You need to be at the meeting.”

  “I know,” I said. “I requested the meeting. I just…I’m not sure…” I became distracted by the clock tower. The whole town was so picturesque.

  She tugged on my sleeve. “Let’s get to the Great Hall straight away. You know how Lorenzo gets when he’s grumpy.” She stopped pulling and examined me. “You mean to say you’ve really lost your memories?”

  “Not all of them. Only most of those involving Spellbound.”

  She winced. “That’s not ideal. I’m Lucy Langtree. Do you recognize me?”

  I hated to say no, but I didn’t have a choice. “I’m afraid not.”

  “I’m the mayor,” she replied. “But, more importantly, I’m your friend.”

  I surveyed the street. I saw a place called Paws-n-Claws, Petals, Trinkets, Perky’s—a whole host of shops, but nowhere called the Great Hall.

  “Where’s the Great Hall?” I asked.

  Lucy blew out a sympathetic breath. “Oh, sweetness. Come with me and I’ll show you.”

  The Great Hall certainly lived up to its name. It reminded me of a palace with its curved archways and marble floors.<
br />
  “I’m pretty sure this is the most beautiful administrative building in the world,” I said.

  Lucy wore a faraway expression. “I hear the one in Rainbow’s End is even better. Maybe one day we’ll get to judge for ourselves.” She deposited me on a bench in the lobby. “Someone will call you in when we’re ready. Don’t be nervous.”

  I forced a smile. “What’s to be nervous about? I technically know everyone, right?”

  Lucy bit her lip. “You do, but if you don’t remember them…” Her gaze darted to the closed doors in the corridor. “Let’s say they can be an intimidating group.” She patted me on the shoulder. “But you’ll be fine, Emma. You always are.”

  Lucy opened the doors and fluttered into the room, leaving me alone. I swung my legs back and forth beneath the bench, trying to maintain an air of calm. I knew what it was like to stand in a courtroom. That much I remembered. How different could this be?

  After a few anxious minutes, my body began to betray me. My palms became sweaty and I rolled my shoulders in an effort to reduce the tension. By the time the doors opened, I was pretty sure I resembled Quasimodo, hunched over the bench and drenched in nervous perspiration.

  “Come in, Emma,” a young woman said. “They’re ready for you.”

  I didn’t recognize her, but, of course, she seemed to know me. I followed her into the room and was instantly met by a long row of inquisitive faces. The council members sat at a long table on an elevated dais. Seven sets of eyes watched me carefully as I took my seat. The young woman sat in a chair at the back of the room and I wondered what her role was.

  From her place on the dais, Lucy spoke first. “Emma, for your sake, I’m going to let the members of the council introduce themselves since we know you don’t remember.” She gestured to the stocky man on her right. The first thing I noticed was his exaggerated facial features. “Wayne, you start.”

  “He’s a troll,” I whispered to myself. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did.

  “I’m Wayne Stone,” the troll said. “I’m the master of the budget.”

  “I am Lorenzo Mancini, the alpha of the werewolf pack,” the taller, muscled, hairier man next to him said. “I also run several successful businesses here in town.” He wore an expensive-looking black suit with a red and gold striped tie. As smooth as he looked, my gut told me to steer clear of him. I wondered whether I had a fear of werewolves. Now probably wasn’t the right time to ask.

  “Lord Lewis Gilder,” the next gentleman said. The word vampire flashed in my mind. Instead of the ripple of discomfort like I’d felt at the sight of Lorenzo, Lord Gilder gave me a sense of peace.

  “Are we friends?” I asked the pale man.

  Lord Gilder’s lips drew back in a smile and I caught a glimpse of his fangs. Yikes! I really hoped we were friends because those teeth looked sharp.

  “We are, indeed,” Lord Gilder replied. “Do you remember me?”

  I winced. “I’m sorry, I don’t. But I got a friendly vibe when I looked at you. That’s good, right?”

  Lord Gilder smirked at his werewolf neighbor. “Is that so? But not when you laid eyes upon my fellow councilman, Mancini. What a shame.”

  I heard a low growl and realized it came from Lorenzo.

  “I’m Maeve McCullen,” the woman bedside Lord Gilder said. Strawberry blond ringlets crowned her head and her voice had a slight lilt. “I own Spellbound’s premiere theater. You’ve been there, in fact.”

  “You’re a banshee?” I queried. That was the word that sprang to mind when she spoke.

  Maeve appeared pleased. “Yes. That’s right.”

  Lucy peered at me. “Do you remember her?”

  “No, but I have some—for lack of a better term—deeper knowledge that keeps bubbling up; like I knew not to be afraid of Gareth, even though I didn’t recognize him.” I only realized after the fact that the initial scream was more from shock than fear.

  “It’s your sorceress instinct, I bet,” Lucy said.

  My what?

  “Juliet Montlake, resident Amazon,” the next woman announced. She sat head and shoulders above Maeve and her chestnut-colored hair fell to her shoulders. “I own the bookshop. You’re a regular visitor.”

  I didn’t doubt it. I’d always been a reader. I wanted to giggle at the thought of an Amazon owning the local bookshop. Seemed appropriate.

  “Surely, you remember me,” the next woman said. She was tall, although not as tall as Juliet. Her flowing white robe swept the floor, and a silver headdress with twisted antlers adorned her dark hair.

  I ventured a guess. “Cleopatra?”

  Everyone laughed except the woman, who glowered at me from beneath the twisted antlers. An icy shiver ran down my spine.

  “Lady Weatherby,” she said in a clipped tone. “Head of the coven. Your coven.”

  “Well,” Lucy interrupted. “Technically, not her coven.”

  “Because I’m a sorceress, not a witch?” I asked.

  “That’s right,” Lucy said. “So you remember what you are?”

  I nodded. “Only after you mentioned it. I don’t remember what I can do, but the knowledge that I am one kind of jumped out at me.” I angled my head at Lady Weatherby. “For some reason, I picture you in a black robe.”

  Lady Weatherby’s lips curled into what I assumed was her version of a smile. “I tend to wear white for council meetings. Black is for the coven.”

  “What color do I wear?” I glanced down at my tunic top and leggings. “No cloak?”

  “You often wear a cloak,” Lady Weatherby said, peering down at me. “Do you have your wand?”

  I felt around my waistband. “Apparently, not.”

  “Ask Gareth where it is,” she said. “No doubt the vampire ghost has all your belongings alphabetized and properly catalogued.”

  “He does seem very…particular.”

  “Let’s get to the business at hand, eh?” Lorenzo said, drumming his fingers impatiently on the side of his chair. “I have a very busy schedule today and this so-called emergency meeting wasn’t on it.”

  “Very well, then,” Lucy said, shooting the werewolf an annoyed look. “Emma, why don’t you tell us what you do remember?”

  Such a broad question. Where did I even start? “My name is Emma Hart and, before I came here, I lived in Lemon Grove, Pennsylvania. I like chicken and macaroni and cheese. If you try to serve me a brussel sprout, I will seethe in silence but never eat at your house again. My car is called Sigmund and I’m a lawyer.” I folded my hands in my lap, satisfied.

  “And do you recall anything about this town?” Lord Gilder asked.

  “I know it’s called Spellbound, and that I live in a beautiful Victorian-style house with the wraparound porch of my dreams,” I said. It really was a perfect porch. Big enough for Adirondack chairs and watching the clouds roll past—the type of thing I probably dreamed of doing but never actually did.

  “Do you know what makes Spellbound special?” Maeve asked.

  I chewed my lip. “The residents who live here are all paranormal or supernatural creatures?”

  Lucy gave me a reassuring smile. “True, but aside from that?”

  I shook my head.

  Maeve poked her head forward. “I do believe it’s time for the story, Madam Mayor.”

  “Yes, go on,” Lucy urged.

  Maeve pushed back her chair and stood. She cleared her throat and began. “Once upon a time, there was a lovely town called Ridge Valley where…”

  “Must we do this?” Lorenzo objected. “The girl knows the story.”

  “But she doesn’t remember and the story is important,” Juliet said. “What if she doesn’t get her memory back, Lorenzo? We need to fill in the gaps if we hope to break the curse.”

  “She is only one girl,” Lorenzo said in exasperation. “Why do we insist she is so essential?”

  “You saw what she did during the trials,” Wayne said. “The coven is in possession of a sacred unicorn horn thank
s to one girl.”

  “And that horn is critical to the spell that breaks the curse,” Lady Weatherby added.

  I blinked. “I…I took a unicorn horn? From an actual unicorn?”

  Lucy waved her hand dismissively. “A story for another day.”

  “Yes, let’s continue with Ridge Valley,” Maeve said. “One day, an enchantress arrived in town in the guise of an ugly old woman, seeking shelter from a storm.”

  “And no one suggested a Motel 6?” I joked.

  “I don’t know what that is, darling,” Maeve said. “Anyhoo, the legend states that she knocked on many doors that night, but no one would house her for a single night. In a fury, she cursed the town and made certain that the residents of Ridge Valley would never be able to leave. After a time, the town became known as Spellbound.”

  “It’s not the only origin story,” Juliet said. “I’ve also heard that her heart was broken by someone who lived here so she cursed the borders to prevent him from leaving.”

  “And trapped everyone else, too?” I queried. Well, that sucked. What if you were visiting relatives you couldn’t stand?

  “Sadly, yes,” Maeve replied.

  “There are towns like this one all over the world, hidden from humans,” Wayne interjected. “But their borders are open.”

  “Does this all make sense, Emma?” Lucy asked.

  “As much as something like this can make sense,” I replied. “Why does no one remember?” I looked at Lord Gilder. “You’re an old vampire. Weren’t you here when the borders closed?”

  Lord Gilder’s laugh was low and rumbling. “You asked the same question the first time we told you, and I shall give you my same answer. Although I was here at the time, I do not know or recall the particulars of the event. One day we could leave at will, and the next day, we could not.”

  “And you think I’m instrumental in breaking the curse?” I asked.

  “Yes,” several council members said in unison.

  “No,” Lorenzo said, the sole voice of dissent. The lone wolf, as it were.

  I squirmed in my seat. My bottom was starting to go numb from sitting too long. “Do you think that’s why my memories are missing? That someone doesn’t want me to break the curse?”