by R M Connor
Stepping out into the cold, we put our coats on.
Agatha lectured us about an attack spell. “Percutio.” She waved her hand, and one of the pencils Maisie was still clutching flew toward a tree in the backyard. “It’s a way to turn any object into a projectile.”
“What exactly are you wanting us to do?” I asked, glancing at Maisie as she put the pencils on the snow-covered railing.
“You two need to learn how to protect yourselves. This is a rather simple incantation.” Agatha waved her hand and the pencils rose in the air. One by one she laid them back on the railing. “I assume you already know how to make things float.” Agatha moved back; her hands held behind her back.
I held my hand out toward one of the pencils. “Surgere.” The pencil rose a foot into the air. “Demittere.” I lowered my hand and the pencil laid back in its original spot. I glanced over my shoulder, at my broom, as if it needed its own lesson on how to behave.
“Good. Now, make the pencil rise and then recite the new spell. Aim toward that tree.” She pointed toward the closest tree, near the back of the fence where her pencil was embedded in the bark.
Maisie nodded toward me. “You first.”
I lifted my hand, the pencil rising back into the air. I reared my arm back, and as I threw my hand forward, I spoke the new word, “Percutio.” The pencil barreled into the trunk of the tree. I smirked. Easy peasy.
Maisie did the same, her pencil sticking out right above mine.
Agatha clapped her hands, which barely made any noise. “Okay, now do it without the command word.” She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at me and my arrogance.
“Easy,” I muttered. I extended my hand again. I had used this spell enough with my broom that I rarely had to say it. The broken, yellow pencil rose into the air and, as if throwing a ball, I threw the pencil toward the tree. The pencil only shook then fell below the porch. Okay—that was rather anticlimactic. I leaned over the railing to see it sticking out of the snow. It’s fine. Try again, Riley. No one could do this on their first try. Rolling my shoulders back, I brought it back into the air in front of me and begged it to hit the tree but it fell again. I looked at Maisie and she shrugged. “It’s because I’ve never used this spell before.”
Agatha shook her head, rolling her eyes. “Maisie, your turn.”
Maisie flung the pencil without uttering a word. It pierced the trunk of the tree in an explosion of bark as it buried itself to the eraser. My mouth gaped. How the hell had she done that so easily?
“Good, Maisie.” Agatha turned her attention to me. “You shouldn’t need to recite the command words. You should know it, understand it, and just do it. No words needed.”
Maisie’s grin touched her eyes until she saw me then it faded quickly. “Beginner’s luck? I probably couldn’t do it again.” But she did—a second pencil split the first one.
I wasn’t so sure this was beginner’s luck. We both came into our powers around the same time. I stole a glance at Agatha, she was watching Maisie. Her brows creased, creating a deep line between her eyes. I remember what Tessa had told us when we learned about the Wildewood witches: One of us would become corrupt with power. Maisie was the stronger of us, I had known that from the very first moment I saw her use her magic, and this cleared up any doubt in my mind. Was Maisie in danger of her own power? Would she end up like our mother? I caught Agatha looking at me and she nodded, barely but enough for me to notice. She was worried too.
Agatha dismissed us but I stayed outside trying over and over until I finally was able to hit my target. It was exhausting and my ego was bruised. Could it really be just beginner’s luck that Maisie was able to do this spell without saying a word? Magic came so easy to her.
I grabbed the remaining pencils and walked into the warm house.
I threw the pencils back into the drawer. The shower turned off and I hurried upstairs. I didn’t want to talk about it with her just yet. Hopefully, and I really did hope, it was nothing more than a fluke. But deep in my gut, I knew Maisie truly was stronger and the way Agatha had looked at her, the worry she tried to conceal, let me know I wasn’t wrong. She thought it too.
I kicked off my shoes and laid down, staring at the ceiling. Bean jumped on the edge of the bed and circled into a ball. Rolling over, I ran my hand down his soft, black coat. “We have to keep an eye on her,” I whispered, and he began to purr.
I started to doze off. My thoughts wandered from Maisie to the secrets Ethan was keeping from me then to the inside of the hardware store. My eyes opened as Bean jumped to the floor. I listened to his paws pad down the steps.
Changing into pajamas, I crawled under the covers and decided I was going to figure out if the petal hidden under the fallen shelves was important or not. However, the way I planned to go about finding this out some might consider illegal. We would have to be sneaky. It would have to be done before Wildewood woke up. And I knew Maisie wasn’t going to be too thrilled.
“Oh, God!” Maisie screamed in my ear. Her arms were wrapped uncomfortably tight around my waist. “I hate this so much!” she hissed, her arms tightening to get her point across.
I laughed. “It’s not that bad!”
Maisie’s arms loosened, and I took a deep breath. She jabbed a finger into my side.
Since the last time we’d flown together, Maisie had vocalized her extreme dislike of riding a broom as a means of transportation, or maybe it was just riding it together. I couldn’t argue with her, because the last time we almost died. It was possible her fear wasn’t completely irrational . . . the keyword was almost. I rode my broom all the time and only once—okay, now twice—I’d had a bad experience.
But I didn’t know another way to sneak into the alley behind the hardware store without anyone noticing. The sky was still dark, and I didn’t want anyone who might be in early to see us slipping past the buildings.
The petal I had seen in the hardware store that dreadful morning bothered me. I couldn’t ask Officer Russell if he had noticed it. I mean, I could, I suppose, but I’m certain he was not happy with me and he clearly wasn’t a talker like Pete.
We dropped lower, hidden behind the hardware store. There were no lights in the alley, only a faint sliver from the floodlight in the parking lot of Just Treats. I heard Bean’s bell and saw him trample through the fresh snow. Maisie slid off from behind me before I had a chance to properly ‘land,’ and almost knocked me off in the process.
“Thank God that’s over,” she muttered under her breath. Pushing her hood off, she brushed the static from her hair with her fingers. “What are we looking for again?”
“Demittere,” I whispered, grabbing the broom handle before it could fall on the ground. “I saw something in the hardware store.” The broom shrunk back into keychain size, and I slipped it into my pocket. “I don’t know if the police noticed it, but it seemed out of place.” I had never known Eugene to have flowers in his store, and unfortunately, over the last two months, I had visited more times than I could count. The house was slowly falling apart just like the appliances in the café.
“How exactly are we going to get inside?” Maisie walked past me to stand in front of the boards where the rolling service door had once been.
Biting my bottom lip, I stared at all the nails holding the wood board up. I guess I hadn’t thought this through very well. We might have to use the front door after all.
I looked down the wall and saw a small window. Standing on my toes, I could barely see inside but it looked like it might be Eugene’s office.
“Oh, no.” Maisie shook her head. “That window is tiny!”
“Want to go in through the front door?” I asked, crossing my arms.
“No. Someone will notice.” She huffed.
“Boost me up.” I pointed to the ground.
Maisie threw her head back and sighed. “This is not how I expected my morning to go.” She came over to the window and unlocked it with a snap of her fingers. There were moments w
hen I realized just how easy it would be to become a pair of thieves if we wanted to. Thankfully for the residents of Wildewood, I wasn’t interested in taking up a life of crime, and yet, here I was about to climb through a window.
With Maisie’s help, I wiggled through the small opening, my hips barely making it through. I fell headfirst into the office and laid there, sprawled out, staring up at the dark ceiling. That had not been planned out very well, at all. Groaning, I pushed myself up and stood on my toes to whisper out the window, “Keep a lookout.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” She grunted.
Sherlock? I giggled. I guess I was . . . Well, a less impressive version. Either way—hello, Wildewood, it’s me, Riley Jones, friendly neighborhood witch detective. I doubted anyone would hire me if they knew how I went about figuring things out.
Walking into the main area of the store, I dug a mini flashlight out of my pocket and clicked it on. The beam of light flickered, and I slapped it on the palm of my hand a few times. The flickering subsided. Okay, this needed to be quick. See if the petal was still there, get it, get out. Simple enough, right?
The middle shelf was holding out longer than I had expected. I moved around the store, holding my breath, scared if I breathed too hard it would be the final straw and everything would topple over. Sweeping the light over the floor, I saw that the blood had mostly been cleaned up but I also saw a faint outline of where it had pooled, staining the cement.
I wanted to believe more than anything that Eugene was alive but . . . I sighed, refusing to finish the thought. Focus, Riley. I could get weepy later when I wasn’t breaking and entering. One problem at a time.
Shining the light where I remembered seeing the petal, I heard a noise and almost screeched. The flashlight fell out of my hand and turned off. Lowering into a squat, I held my breath until I saw Bean walk in front of me. Grabbing the flashlight, I clicked it back on. “You scared the shit out of me.” I noticed his collar was missing. “Did Maisie send you?” That would explain his missing bell, though even with it, he was stealthy.
The petal stood out like a sore thumb tucked under the foot of the shelf. The police must have deemed it unimportant. Why wouldn’t they, though? It was just a flower petal. There were so many other things in this store that could inflict serious bodily harm. Like the dozens of hammers and saw blades scattered around from the scuffle.
I reached for the petal.
Bean hissed, his back arched, and his hair stood.
“It’s just a petal,” I whispered, slipping it into my pocket. I then bolted back into the office.
Rolling Eugene’s chair under the window, I reached for Bean to get him out first. He swatted at me, jumped onto the seat of the chair, then proceeded to jump on the slender window sill. His back paw slipped and I pushed him, which only made him angrier.
Good grief. I had no idea what was up with him, but he had no interest in me touching or helping him. I was being rejected by both men in my life. Freaking awesome. I mumbled profanities instead of crying like I really wanted to. Standing on the chair, I squirmed to get my shoulders through the small window. This had been much easier the first time.
Maisie grabbed under my arms, pulling as I kicked my feet. As soon as my hips were free, and probably bruised and scraped, I fell into Maisie. We toppled into the snow, me on top.
She pushed me off. “Well, did you get it?”
I brushed snow from my jacket, but it felt weird to the touch. Something wasn’t right. My fingertips were tingling, and not in the way they did when I used magic. No—this was painful. I looked back toward the window, wondering what I could’ve touched that hurt me.
Maisie closed and locked the window with a quick snap. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the alley toward the café, the tingling in my fingers fading to a numbness.
I fumbled with the key to the backdoor. It slipped from my hand into the snow. “Reserare.” I snapped my fingers to try unlocking it with magic, but the numbness made it difficult.
Maisie grabbed the keys, giving me a worried look, her brows drawn together and her forehead wrinkled. “What’s wrong?” She pushed the door open.
I stared at my fingers. “I don’t know.”
The overhead lights brightened the kitchen as Maisie turned them on. A shadow blurred across the floor, under the swinging doors, and into the café. I would deal with my numb fingers later. I had been wondering if I’d see the little shadow again, and here it was.
I lost sight of it when I pushed through the swinging doors and walked into the dark café. I held my breath, tip-toeing around the counter, in hopes to catch another glimpse.
Maisie held her hand up, ready to snap her fingers to turn the lights on. I put my hand on top of hers and pushed her arm down. “Wait,” I whispered, scanning the room. The only light that came in was from the lamp post outside. I heard movement near the front and thought I heard Bean’s bell. That was odd, he hadn’t been wearing it. Though, Maisie might’ve snapped it on him before I fell out of the window.
I opened the door and smacked Zach with it.
Oh my God. “Are you okay?” My jaw dropped. Pulling him inside, his hand cupped his nose, blood dripping toward his lip.
He nodded; his eyes squinted with pain.
“I am so sorry!” I pulled him to the counter and offered him a dry dish rag.
“Good grief, Riley!” Maisie shot me a dirty look as she turned on the fairy lights strung across the ceiling. “I knew you weren’t thrilled about hiring another person, but you didn’t have to break him.” She handed him a damp rag.
I glared at her. “It was an accident.”
Zach chuckled, laying the bloodied rag on the counter and picking up the damp one. “I’m okay, really.”
“Honest, I thought I heard Bean’s bell and”—I waved my hand toward Zach—“I didn’t see him standing there.”
Zach looked down at his shirt where a few drops of blood had landed. It was barely noticeable on the black fabric. “I’m gonna go clean up in the bathroom.” He grabbed the bloodied rags and pushed away from the counter.
As he walked toward the bathrooms, I noticed he was favoring his right leg. Had I hit his leg, too?
“What the hell is going on with you, Riley? You’re acting weirder than usual.” Maisie crossed her arms.
Me? Acting weird? I huffed at the thought. It was everything else in Wildewood that was weird, not me. Copying her stance, I crossed my arms and turned toward her. “Have you seen anything weird lately?”
“Besides you?” she asked, wiping down the counter where Zach had been.
“I’m serious. Have you?” I saw the shadow again, moving into the hallway. “Like that!” I pointed, skittering after it.
She must’ve seen it because she was on my heels as I entered the hallway. “What was that?”
Zach stepped out of the bathroom; his nose cleaned up. I looked around but it was too dark to see. Maisie turned the light on, the small bulb lighting up the entire hallway. A little plume of smoke lingered in the corner. I could only assume the shadow I had been following, or that had been following me, had vanished.
“You guys okay?” Zach raised an eyebrow.
My cheeks flushed and I rubbed the back of my neck. “Of course.” Why wouldn’t I be okay? It wasn’t like my fingers were oddly numb and I was definitely not chasing after a shadow creature. Everything is good and normal here. A nervous chuckle came out of me. “Why don’t you get the ovens heated.” I pulled Maisie into my small office before she had a chance to leave.
“You are seriously acting odd,” she whisper-screeched.
Whatever. I waved her statement away with a flap of my hands. “That shadow, whatever it is, found the grimoire for us. We need to figure out how to catch it.” I wanted to think it was helping us, but I didn’t know. Was it another ghost? Was it something else?
Maisie scowled. “Catch a shadow?”
“Yeah . . .” But how does one catch something that holds no sh
ape? I rubbed my forehead with the hand that wasn’t going numb. If the grimoire wasn’t locked, we could probably enlist its help, but until I figured out how to bring the words back to the pages it was useless. “I just don’t know how.”
I pulled the petal out of my pocket and slipped it into a plastic bag. One problem at a time.
I scrubbed my hands raw under hot water, hoping to remove whatever had caused the numbness. Everything I touched sent a million hot pinpricks through my fingers. I still hadn’t figured out what had caused it. Had there been something on the windowsill? The floor? Or could it have been the flower petal? I knew poisonous plants existed, but I thought they had to be ingested.
I looked around the café. I’d have to set that on the back burner for now. The café was busier than usual with to-go orders. I was hoping we wouldn’t run out of paper products before the end of the shift.
Jennifer Mitchell, Ethan’s younger sister, strolled into the building. She removed her hat and shook her brown hair out around her shoulders. She smiled when she saw me as she walked to the counter.
“Hey! Are you guys coming by later?” Jennifer worked at Just Treats, the bakery down the street. They were having their re-grand opening in less than an hour.
“We wouldn’t miss it.” Come to think of it, that was probably why almost everyone in town had come by to get a cup of coffee before the ribbon-cutting ceremony. It was a completely unnecessary thing to do, but the mayor was involved and that usually meant over the top.
“Have you seen my brother?” she asked as I slid a to-go cup her way.
The knife in my heart twisted a bit. “Nope.” I handed her a lid.
She fixed her coffee with only one packet of sugar then looked at me with a raised brow. “You guys okay?”
I had no idea, but I didn’t want to put any of it on Jennifer’s shoulders. “We’re fine. He’s just been a little . . .” Dismissive? Shut down? “Preoccupied lately.” That was a nicer way to say a big hunk of a jerk!