by Emery Belle
As the hours ticked past, I checked my watch repeatedly and kept sneaking glances toward the phone, which remained ominously silent. Why hadn’t Garnet called? Hopefully Kellen hadn’t caught wind of our sneaky little plan… I shuddered to think what would happen if Fiona found out what Garnet was really doing in her house. If Garnet was thrown in jail, or worse, it would be entirely my fault.
Just as I was about to call it a night, with the intention of marching straight to Fiona Thane’s house and rescuing my friend, a whisper of wind, so light I thought it was my imagination, whooshed past my ear. I turned to locate the source, expecting to find that one of the other reporters had accidentally left a window open, but swung back around when Sebastian groaned and pressed a hand to his stomach, his face screwed up in pain.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, shuffling over to him. His face was flushed, and I pressed the back of my hand against his forehead. It was warm to the touch. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I don’t know,” he said, and I could hear the effort in his words as he lightly rubbed his stomach. “It must have been all the desserts we ate for dinner…”
He tried to smile, but it came out all twisted, and another low moan escaped his lips. After taking a few deep breaths, he shook his head, as though to banish the pain, and began rifling through Cassandra’s columns again.
I grabbed his wrist gently and shook my head. “Go home. I’m almost done here anyway.”
He looked as though he was about to argue, but before he could open his mouth, another burst of pain hit him and he doubled over, clutching his stomach. His face had now turned an alarming shade of green. I stood and offered him a helping hand, and he took it reluctantly, dragging himself to his feet and holding onto my desk for support.
“Hang on,” I said, grabbing my purse and keeping one hand on his arm to steady him. “I’ll walk you home.”
But he shook his head and stuck out his arm, holding me back, then took two steps forward, clapped a hand over his mouth, and twirled, leaving me staring at the empty space he had just occupied. Feeling slightly nauseous myself—although I suspected it was only sympathy pangs, because I felt like I could eat at least another three slices of cake and still have room for more—I dropped into the chair in front of my computer and halfheartedly typed up the new list of leads we’d identified, including the vampire baker. When I was finished, I began scrolling through it, shaking my head at each entry. Sebastian was correct—none of these felt right.
I leaned back with a sigh and ran my hands through my hair. I was beginning to think that Cassandra’s murder would never be solved. Not only that, but I was in the process of bungling my very first assignment. Percival had put his trust in me, and I had failed him. Maybe I should just call it a day, pop over to Lazar’s joke shop to beg for a job, and spend my days frisking leprechauns for fake gold coins. It could work, as long as he didn’t start asking any awkward questions about where Monty had gone…
Letting out a short bark of laughter as I pictured my newest friend dangling from the ceiling of my dorm room, I grabbed the computer mouse and prepared to print out our new list of leads, only to discover that no matter how hard I shook it, the cursor wouldn’t budge.
“Come on,” I muttered, jiggling the mouse back and forth while it squealed with displeasure. “I need to get out of here, and you’re holding me up.”
When the mouse still refused to cooperate, I turned it over and examined it, running my hands along the bottom while it giggled and squirmed, its cord flapping back and forth. “Seriously?” I said when I came upon a battery compartment and flicked up the latch to open it. “They haven’t come up with a better way of powering you than a couple of double As?” I dumped the dead batteries into my hand, then yanked open my desk drawer and began to blindly grope around the back of it for replacements.
My thumb pressed against something sharp and I felt a sear of pain, then hastily withdrew my hand and stared down at the blood bubbling up from a deep paper cut. I stuck my thumb into my mouth and sucked on it to stop the bleeding, then felt around the drawer again, this time more cautiously, until I found the source of my injury: a folded-up piece of cardstock paper with lines of notes scrawled across it, presumably in Cassandra’s handwriting.
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure I was alone—I felt like I was snooping, even though Cassandra had long since departed from this world… or had she? There was still so much I needed to learn, and I made a mental note to ask Glenn about ghosts the next time we crossed paths. Just as I began unfolding the paper, I thought I heard something creak behind me and practically jumped out of my skin, but when I whirled around, panting in fear, I saw that the room was empty.
I quickly unfolded the paper and scanned my eyes over it, frowning as I realized it was a breakdown of The Islander’s circulation numbers over the past five years. Cassandra must have been worried about losing her job too, I thought, tossing the paper aside and continuing to rummage around for the replacement batteries.
When I finally found them, I shoved them into the back of the mouse, which whipped me with its cord in protest, and printed out the list of leads. I was in the process of shoving it into my purse when my gaze landed on the circulation numbers again—but this time, I studied them more carefully. Something was off… I just couldn’t quite put my finger on what.
And then it hit me, and a strange tingly feeling began spreading throughout my body as my heartbeat sped up. Hadn’t both Glinna and Percival told me that the newspaper’s circulation was down, which had led to the falling revenue and The Islander’s money woes? But if Cassandra was right… not only were the numbers up for the past five years, but the paper should have been making more money now than ever before. Something definitely didn’t add up, and it looked like Cassandra had been trying to get to the bottom of it.
I thought of Glinna, the way her eyes had darkened earlier that night when I had mentioned that Sebastian and I were working on the murder investigation, and how distraught she had seemed when Cassandra’s body was found… almost too distraught. Had she been crying crocodile tears? Not to mention that fairies had powerful magic of their own… but were they allowed to wield wands? I had no idea, and I wasn’t going to stick around to find out.
Shoving Cassandra’s notes into my pocket, I hauled my purse over my shoulder and practically sprinted through the newspaper offices, heading straight for the door without looking back. I didn’t know what I was so worried about… Glinna wasn’t even here right now. We’d said goodbye to her at least an hour ago and watched her fly out the door. Surely I would have noticed if she had returned at some point, especially since the offices were as quiet as a grave.
My grave.
Stop it, Wren, I scolded myself as I reached the door. Glinna had been nothing but perfectly lovely to me since the moment we had met, and here I was, trying to pin a horrific crime on her without so much as a shred of evidence. Perhaps she had been mistaken about the newspaper’s circulation numbers. Or maybe Cassandra had gotten her facts wrong. What was a gossip columnist doing investigating The Islander’s finances, anyway? Shouldn’t she have been chasing down Mayor Thane’s mistress for an interview, or writing a follow-up piece on the vampire baker’s new blood pudding scones, which, according to Sebastian, were selling like hotcakes?
I reached out a hand to turn the door handle, then cried out in alarm and pain when it suddenly burned bright red and scalded my skin so badly that I heard a sizzle. I jerked back my hand, which was rapidly blistering, and examined the doorknob, trying to find the source of the heat. I remembered that my training wand was still in my purse—surely an aqua spell would cool off the handle enough for me to touch it?
I began to reach for it, then remembered Lady Winthrop’s warning about immediate banishment from the island and hastily withdrew my hand before poking the doorknob again with a tentative finger.
“Going somewhere?” a familiar voice said from behind me, cutting through the silence and c
ausing chills to race up and down my arms.
Taking a deep breath, I plastered a casual smile on my face, then turned around to greet Percival, who was twirling his wand in one hand while watching me with those shockingly blue eyes, which glowed eerily in the dim office light. A smile curled one corner of his lips as he nodded toward my purse. “I believe you have something in there that might be of interest to me.”
I cocked my head at him and frowned, praying he couldn’t see the nervous flush creeping across my face. “Sorry? I don’t know what you mean… unless you’d like to take a look at my training wand?” I grinned and held it out to him. “Probably doesn’t stand up to yours, but Lady Winthrop said it won’t be long before we’ll be able to pick out wands of our own. We being my friends Garnet and Hunter. Well, and me, of course.” I was babbling, trying to distract him, but he paid me no notice as his gaze burned into my purse and he began stroking his wand faster, almost lovingly.
“I thought when I spelled her computer to combust whenever someone touched it, all the evidence would be destroyed,” he said, licking his lips. He was panting slightly now, and I clutched my training wand tighter, feeling its tip indenting my palm. “Only tonight did it occur to me that she might be keeping records elsewhere… and as soon as I began searching her desk, you and Sebastian turned up and I had to abort the mission, fade into the background until you left.”
He grinned at me, suddenly looking quite deranged. “It’s a particular talent of mine, you know. The ability to blend into my surroundings. I got the idea from a trip I took as a youth to the islands off Africa, where I came across a charming little creature called a chameleon. It took me ages to develop and master the spell, but tonight proves the effort was entirely worthwhile.”
He held out his hand, and the smile dropped from his face. “Give it to me now, and no one gets hurt. I know you have it—I watched you take it.”
“Really, Percival, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I’m only in a hurry because I’m not feeling well. Sebastian had to leave, and I—”
“Don’t lie!” he boomed, an ugly sneer twisting his otherwise cherubic face. “The curse was intended for both of you, so you would leave and I could resume my search of Cassandra’s desk in peace, but I misfired. You felt the spell pass by you—I saw it happen. But I didn’t want to risk casting it again, in case you got suspicious, so I decided to wait it out. And it’s just my bad luck that you found Cassandra’s notes before I did.”
He hesitated, and his expression turned mournful. “I didn’t intend for this to happen, Wren. I wasn’t lying when I said that I liked you, that I thought you were a good addition to our team, but I can’t have someone around who knows I’ve been helping myself to the newspaper’s profits. It wouldn’t be… prudent.”
Percival began to raise his wand, then stopped as I blurted out, in a desperate attempt to keep him talking, “Why did you do it? Why take money from The Islander, knowing it would only hurt your employees in the end?”
His face crumpled and he lowered his wand a fraction of an inch. “I’m not a monster, Wren, despite what you might think of me. Despite what Cassandra thought of me. I’m just a man who spent money beyond his means—well beyond his means—and found himself in a hole he couldn’t dig out of. It was never my intention to bring harm upon The Islander. I love this paper… but the money was there for the taking, and once I started, I just couldn’t seem to stop. By the time I realized what I was doing and came to my senses, the money was long gone.”
He took a deep breath, and in the space between his words, I heard the distant sound of a phone ringing. Garnet! I glanced longingly toward the cubicles, wishing I could distract him long enough to answer it and let her know I was in trouble. But I would never be able to outrun a skilled wizard, and I knew that trying to escape meant certain death. If I could keep him talking, maybe, just maybe, I’d have a chance at survival.
My gaze returned to Percival, and I realized with a wave of fear that he was staring at me, his eyes dim with sadness. “To say I regret this would be an understatement,” he said, raising his wand again. “But you, like Cassandra, leave me no choice.”
He hesitated. “Would you like to be incinerated or blown up? Neither option will cause you any pain, I can assure you, and I think it’s only fair to let you decide. Cassandra refused and, well, you saw what happened.” His shoulders slumped. “Sometimes it seems my wand takes on a mind of its own. Messy, messy business.”
As he steadied the wand and aimed it squarely at my chest, waiting patiently for my response with raised eyebrows, I knew I had no choice but to use the only defensive move I had. I brandished my training wand in his direction, quick as a flash, and hollered, “Aqua!” as he blinked at me in surprise, caught completely off guard.
A blast of water erupted from my wand and shot toward him, knocking him backward and giving me time to run. I grabbed the door handle again and screamed as my other hand immediately blistered. I heard Percival yell something behind me, and I turned just in time to see an orange light bursting from his wand and heading straight toward me.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain, and was violently knocked out of the way as a black shape burst through the door and launched itself between me and the light, absorbing the brunt of the spell.
I heard an explosion, and in the split-second of chaos that followed, my mind registered that my savior was none other than the man in black, the shadowy stranger who had been stalking me since my arrival on the island. He fell to the ground, his black robes glowing orange as the spell took hold. His dark, searching eyes latched onto mine before he closed them, his head lolling to the side.
Without thinking, without turning to see what Percival might be doing, without considering that my life was still in immediate danger, I dropped my training wand and ran toward the man, whose face was now drained of all color.
“Wake up,” I shouted, shaking him roughly by the shoulders, but as soon as my hands gripped his robes, the orange light jumped into my fingertips and began spreading up my arms, causing my skin to burn with unimaginable pain. I screamed and released him, but it was too late—the spell was racing through my veins, scalding me from the inside out.
I staggered toward the door, calling desperately for help in the vain hope that someone, anyone, might hear the commotion. But before I could reach it, stars burst in front of my vision, the room went black, and I was falling, falling…
Chapter 16
“Did you see her eye twitch? I think I saw her eye twitch!”
“Lower your voice! What are you trying to do, wake her up?”
“Hush up, both of you, or I’ll turn you into a pair of fuzzy earmuffs and hand you off to one of the yeti so he can wear you in the Snow Bunny Fashion Show.”
I cracked open one eye and saw the back of Glenn’s head as he scolded Garnet and Hunter, who were standing at the foot of my bed, looking ashamed of themselves. As I tried to turn my head, pain shot through it like lightning, and I groaned and attempted to raise a hand to massage my temples only to find it tethered in place by invisible bindings.
“Wren!” Garnet gasped, elbowing Hunter aside and rushing over to me. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been hit by a bus,” I croaked out, wincing at the sound of her voice. “Where am I?”
“At the hospital,” Glenn said, smoothing down my bedcovers. His face was red and blotchy, and his jaunty lime-green beret was askew, revealing tufts of gray hair sticking out every which way. He was wearing trousers that were far too tight, and a jacket that was far too big, as though he had thrown them on in a hurry. As he leaned over me, his belly wobbled precariously. “You gave us quite a scare.”
I frowned at him, my scattered mind trying to sort itself out through the pain throbbing through every part of me, but when I caught sight of my training wand on the bedside table, the events of the evening came rushing back to me.
“It w
as Percival!” I shouted, trying to sit up as Glenn struggled to hold me back. “He murdered Cassandra, and he’s coming after me next!” I battled against the invisible restraints that bound my arms to the bed, but the effort was too much for me, and I slumped back down again.
“Sorry about that,” Garnet said, chewing her lip as she nodded toward my arms. “When you tried to rip off Hunter’s head for the fifth time, the doctor thought it was best to tie you up so you wouldn’t be a danger to anyone.”
Me, a danger? Hadn’t they heard what I’d just said about Percival? I stared at them, bewildered, trying to figure out why they weren’t jumping into action. The entire coven needed to descend upon The Islander offices, stat, and show Percival who was boss. And if they let me, I’d be leading the charge, training wand blazing.
Glenn must have misinterpreted my confusion, for he patted my hand and said, “Don’t worry, Wren Winters, we think the spell addled your brain just a hair. I’m sure you’ll be back to your old self soon enough.” He looked around at Garnet and Hunter, who nodded encouragingly.
“But… Percival?” I said weakly, directing the question at Glenn.
It was Garnet who answered. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” she said fiercely, her green eyes narrowed. “By the time Kellen and his team got there, he was already dead. Apparently the spell backfired somehow and blew up his own wand—the explosion killed him instantly.”
“Kellen?” I pictured the chief of police, all muscle and steam-snorts, and nestled my head deeper into my pillow as another wave of exhaustion threatened to overtake me. “How did he find out?”
Garnet stroked my hand, then felt my forehead for a fever. My skin burned under her cool touch. “I called your direct line after leaving Fiona’s, like I promised, and when you didn’t answer, I just had a feeling that something was wrong. I ran down to the police station, and although it took me a while to convince Kellen to get his butt to the newspaper offices, he finally agreed to check it out for himself. I think he was just trying to get rid of me… Anyway, he was here a minute ago to check on you and give us an update.”