Spell Maven Mysteries- The Complete Series

by J L Collins

  I let out a soft whistle. “Uncle G going all in.”

  “Hmph. He certainly thought so. I screeched at him, waking up your poor father in the process. But Gardner was adamant. He said it was all how he planned it. He made the suggestion to our mother for my benefit. That I deserved ‘someone better than silly old Edmund Burke with the boring face.’ And you know what?”

  I shook my head. “No. But I bet you’re going to tell me anyway.”

  “By the end of the night, I believed him. I didn’t give a unicorn’s rear-end about Edmund after that. All because your uncle has a way with words. The most ridiculous part of all is that a few years later, when I brought it up with him, he casually admitted that it was all just an excuse to get off the hook with Mama, and then with me after he accidentally made me mad. Without batting an eye.”

  I sat there chuckling, shaking my head some more. “That . . . is pretty hilarious, not going to lie. And it definitely sounds like him.”

  The door to the stock room opened and out came Uncle Gardner, speaking of the devil. I wasn’t sure what to make of the look on his face. Was he… happy?

  “So. That was Archmage Bacchus. It turns out that the High Judge struck a deal with the Renaldi twins.”

  Both me and Aunt Bedelia groaned. “What!?” I said, my voice a hoarse whisper as not to wake up Fiona-Leigh upstairs.

  “I know, I know. It doesn’t sound ideal—but the conditions were that they spend the rest of their lives in the higher-tiered prison cells. They’ll have more freedom around the prison, though they’ll have to wear their enchanted ankle monitors from now on. No more changing.”

  “That hardly seems fair considering they killed Rourke. Life in an upgraded prison cell and a dumb ankle bracelet?” I said through gritted teeth. “What the heck were they thinking, coming up with that? I hope it’s worth it!”

  But Uncle Gardner shrugged. “It was, in my opinion, because not only did Benito confess to his murder and Gianni confessed to being complicit in his murder . . . they admitted they stole An Leabhar na Ciallmhar and gave its location. Rufio’s team has just sent word to me that they have in fact, found it. It’s on its way back to the Athenaeum as we speak.”

  My mouth dropped open. “Really? They have the book?”

  “It appears that way, yes. I’m going to have them do a full scan of it to detect any dark enchantments or traps in it, but they said it seems in good shape from what they could tell.” The expression on his face really was one of relief. He clinked cups with me, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he did.

  “Oh Gardner, that’s wonderful news!” Aunt Bee said, squeezing his shoulder. “Everything is as it should be now. Hopefully this will give everyone a bit more closure.”

  “And keep those criminals from harming anyone else,” he added.

  I blinked. In a matter of one night, we had closed out not only the investigation into Rourke’s murder, but the whereabouts of the Book of the Wise. Was I the only one finding this hard to believe?

  I explained my concerns and Uncle Gardner listened, finishing the rest of his coffee in the meantime. Apparently, he was more of a coffee drinker than I was.

  “I understand it looks too neat and tidy from the outside, and I would usually encourage you to dig deeper to find out why that is. I’m not stopping you, certainly. But in this instance things really do fall into place.”

  I put my mug back down, feeling a rush of energy suddenly. “What about the short sword? Why was Zoya’s wand concealed like that? And why turn it into a short sword?”

  “They did that to hide it. If it were found, it would look like it implicated the Fae and Zoya herself, throwing us off the scent. Which it did, unfortunately,” he said, rolling his eyes. “And they got the idea to transfigure it from the book, apparently.”

  I froze. “But . . . they’re Changelings. They can only change into humans—not Witches. How did they do the spell?”

  “I was wondering that too, Gardner,” Aunt Bedelia chimed in.

  “Yes, at first I was concerned about this—surely someone else must have. But they knew of a spell in the Book of the Wise that could give the power of magic summoning to specific creatures. They used this to help them cast the transfiguration on Zoya’s broken wand.” He leaned back against the wall.

  Well. That explained that… sorta. “And do we know why they stole the book? Was there something specific they wanted?”

  “That one’s easy. Money. The Dark Market’s prices have gone up considerably since the vampire, Enoch’s death. They thought if they owned the most powerful spell book in the world, they’d sell the spells one at a time and then the whole book. It would’ve made them wildly rich, at least according to them.”

  Slightly jittery, Uncle Gardner pulled back away from the wall and started to pace. “Oh! And I also had something I meant to tell you in the morning, but with everything happening I just didn’t get the chance to.”

  Aunt Bedelia and I shared a glance. It was like the coffee got stronger and stronger by the moment.

  “Oh yeah?” I said.

  His head nodded up and down a little too quickly. “Yes. I had my guy at the Department of Realm Magic look into those magic leaks for you. It turns out that they were already working on those sizeable leaks, trying to patch them up the best they could. Peter was concerned about them at first, but we’ve sealed off all of the leaks that were strong enough to break through the realms’ boundaries.

  I frowned. “Okay, but do we know what was causing them?”

  “And instability in the energy levels around the Amaranth Forest gateway. It is very old and stagnant energy and sitting around too long like that can manifest in some strange and unpredictable ways. The leaks have been contained and you shouldn’t have any more issues with it in the Human Realm. See? I had some people working on that too, despite everything else.”

  I had to admit it… the relief lifting off of my shoulders was a much-welcomed feeling. If Uncle Gardner was pleased with the outcome of everything and didn’t see anything suspicious about it, it seemed silly for me to look at it differently. Honestly, I’d done enough worrying over these cases to last me a Witch’s lifetime.

  A smile spread across my face. “Good work, sir.”

  “Same to you. I’m glad to see your training in full use again.” There was a stern nod, but it was quickly followed by a smile I hadn’t seen in far too long.

  “Yes, our niece is rather impressive, is she not?” Aunt Bee said, putting her thin arm around my shoulders.

  “I . . . I wouldn’t go that far. I just managed to distract one of the brothers with my terrible balance long enough for Uncle Gardner to restrain him. It’s not really a big deal.”

  Footsteps trudged down the steps that led up to Aunt Bee’s apartment over the shop, and Fiona-Leigh was staring at us blearily, rubbing at her eyes. “What’s going on down here? Why is everyone awake before sunrise? Or is this one of those weird Fairy weather change things?”

  Uncle Gardner raised a brow but I cut him off. “There’s a lot to catch up on sweetheart. Why don’t you go back to sleep and I’ll tell you all about it in the morning?”

  24

  Drinks on the Porch Swing

  For a Monday evening on my supposed vacation, I was exhausted. Everything had been settled as far as the MARC was concerned. The Renaldi brothers were in jail, An Leabhar na Ciallmhar was back in its rightful place under even more protection magic, and according to my uncle, the magic leaks were being contained successfully.

  Fiona-Leigh crashed on the couch next to me with Jax jumping up into her lap and whining. “I’m sorry buddy. I know you have to be starving.”

  “He’s fine,” Oisín purred from his favorite spot on the window sill. “I may or may not have accidentally spilled some kibble into his bowl. Pure luck on his behalf, really. Though his bowl is half water, half slobber so someone might want to look into that.” He raised his fluffy black shoulder. “You’re welcome.”


  It was surreal to come back home after the events of the past twenty-four hours, to see the normalcy of our home. I sunk down even further in the soft cushions. “I think I need a vacation from my vacation.”

  “Are you at least feeling better?” Fi asked, scratching behind Jax’s ears.

  I pulled the collar of my shirt to the side, inspecting the fading wound caused by Benito Renaldi’s stupid werewolf claws. “Yeah. My head is still hurting, but I think I’ll just take some aspirin and call it day with that.”

  “Hey Mom?”

  “Hm?”

  “Before we left, Erie said something about turning down a job offer. Do you know what she meant?” Everyone had come to Aunt Bee’s to see us off. I wasn’t planning on a returning for a little while—not after the ridiculous drive back and forth. But Erie had pulled Fi aside to give her a hug and show her something.

  “Oh. It was probably about the MARC tapping her to be the next Keeper of the Pages. She didn’t take it of course,” I quickly added, seeing the look on her face. “You know she’s much more concerned with taking care of the menagerie for all that. Plus cooping her up in the Athenaeum wouldn’t be doing anyone any favors.” Erie was far too free-spirited for that. Just like my girl.

  “I don’t blame her. The menagerie is so cool. I’d love to work with all of the creatures there like she does,” she said thoughtfully, smushing Jax’s wet nose against her cheek. “Wouldn’t I, Jaxy? But wait . . . didn’t they need to pick someone like ASAP?”

  I nodded. “And they did. They offered the job to Zoya.”

  Fi gave me a funny look. “But . . . wasn’t all of this sort of her fault? She’s the one who somehow gave the idea to the Changelings, right? I thought for sure she’d at least get fired. I mean I liked her and all but . . . the MARC doesn’t seem super forgiving.”

  “You have a point, and I was actually pretty surprised myself. The way it was explained to me was that they saw it as part retribution for what happened, and Zoya was actually the one to suggest it. She already lived there and everything she cares about is at the library. She feels so badly about what happened of course, and trying to find a Witch to literally stay inside the grounds of the Athenaeum for the rest of their life isn’t exactly easy. So now she’s the first half-breed Witch to ever run the Athenaeum. I got a chance to congratulate her. She seems okay, all things considered.”

  “But . . . isn’t she an Alchemist? She uses a wand, right?” Fi frowned. “I thought you had to be a Siren for that? Wasn’t Rourke?”

  I leaned in, smirking. “They had us all tricked. Or at least everyone but Uncle Gardner—he knew the truth. Can you keep a secret?”

  Her blue eyes went wide, her nose scrunching up. “Seriously? You know I can!”

  I thought about her and Marina and how hard it was on her not to include her best friend in everything. “I guess you can. Okay so . . .”

  I explained to her how the Keeper of the Pages is actually meant to be an Alchemist—because the Athenaeum itself is the most powerful amplifier in the realm. It was why the place felt so cold and dead after Rourke’s death. The Keeper’s job is to sync magic with the library in an effort to give it the most protection possible.

  The only downside was that Rourke’s magic was wearing down over time as he got older. No one realized this, and the boundary line that held in his magic was diminishing inch by inch backwards from the property line. Zoya spilled the beans that night she brought up with me, and the secret was out. It was possible to take the power away from the library by killing Rourke. That would leave it defenseless, thus how they stole the spell book.

  Fiona-Leigh sat back. “That’s actually pretty genius. It’s nice to see that an Alchemist has such a high authority. Aunt Bedelia told me that’s not very common.”

  “She’s right—it’s not. Not when the Sirens are capable of handling their magic without the need for amplifiers.” I shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  Deep down though, I felt a proud hum of satisfaction running through me. My daughter could understand, even as an outsider. And Uncle Gardner certainly got it. He’d offered me a position to come back onboard with the MARC, with a custom title just for me.

  “We need someone like you who can think outside the box, Gwen. Having you around again has proven to be nothing but beneficial. Won’t you consider it?” The softness around his eyes had almost made me rethink my previous decision for just a moment. Almost.

  “You know me, sir. I have Fiona-Leigh to worry about. At the end of the day, she needs to be in a world where she fits in. And I’m so over the drive back and forth between my house and the gateway. I think I’m going to take several weeks off from that particular excursion, by the way,” I’d said, thinking about the miles I was putting on my poor old Jeep. “But really, Uncle. I appreciate the offer. More than you’ll ever know.”

  And it was true. The very thing I’d worked so hard on obtaining again, I had it now and I wasn’t going to take it for granted. His trust and pride in me.

  “I’ve missed you,” I mumbled into my pillow after flopping back on my bed. It felt like it had been forever since I had the chance to just relax and fall to sleep like normal.

  I flipped off the lights, slipped on my favorite t-shirt and shorts to sleep in, and went to put my wand on my dresser. The blinds were half open and I went to close them when a light across the street caught my attention.

  Sully was sitting outside on his porch swing, with what looked like a beer bottle in his hand. The swing glided along gently, and I could see the tiny pinpricks of light popping up here and there between my house and his. Fireflies. He looked utterly relaxed with his head tilted slightly back so he could stare up at the sky.

  I bit my lip. In the ten seconds it took me to throw on my robe and slippers, I made two decisions.

  One, I needed to make sure Fiona-Leigh was in bed.

  And two, I was going to go talk to Sully. What was I going to say? That… I’d just have to wing it with.

  Taking a moment to make sure my hair wasn’t too messy, I listened for Fiona-Leigh. When I poked my head out of my bedroom, I saw that her door was shut with the glow of her moon-shaped nightlight visible underneath.

  I wrapped the thin robe around myself and took in a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever came next.

  There were a million things running through my mind as I quietly locked the front door behind me and stuck my house keys in the pocket of the robe. I thought about Zoya and Rourke, and Rourke’s duty to the Athenaeum standing in between them. I thought about the gateway standing between Adam and I, along with everything in the world that was different between the two of us.

  I crossed the distance between my house and Sully’s in several strides, my legs not carrying me fast enough without breaking into a full run. My heart raced; my limbs tingled from the electricity that felt like it was rising up from the ground under my feet.

  Sully noticed me out of the corner of his eye as early autumn leaves crunched underfoot. He sat straight up, eyeing me with interest. “Gwen?”

  Why did every word that came out of his mouth sound so… right? My name most of all.

  I smiled, shyness suddenly dimming down this burst of bravado. “Hi.”

  His eyes crinkled in the corners. “I see you and Fiona-Leigh are back home.”

  Standing awkwardly at the bottom of the three steps to his porch, I shrugged, still wearing a goofy smile. “Just finished the assignment today. So I’m home free for the next couple of days anyway. Back to the ol’ nine-to-five on Thursday.” What? The ‘ol nine-to-five?’ Who am I?

  “Nice.” He looked around his feet before he unearthed another beer, holding it out to me. “Want one? You can come up here, you know. I won’t bite.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, revealing the dimple there that had been hiding under his dark beard.

  Do. Not. Hyperventilate, Gwen. “Sure. Why not?” I did my very best not to trip over my own two feet and took the opened bottle from him, s
itting down on the swing next to him. “Thanks.”

  “How was it?” he asked.

  Have I seriously missed something? That’s what I get for paying too much attention to the way his t-shirt is clinging to his shoulders. Shoot. “How was . . .?”

  He chuckled, downing another sip of his bottle. “Your freelance project.”

  “Oh! It was um, good. I’m just glad it’s all done with,” I said, the relief genuine. “It was pretty stressful, actually.”

  “I hear you. Marina went home yesterday afternoon and I had to pull a double shift at the hospital. In my case, ‘death waits for no man’ usually just means overtime pay.”

  Laughter bubbled up from my chest, and both of us laughed way too much at his joke. It felt perfectly natural.

  “Sully?” The word formed on my lips before I could stop them. Was I really doing this?

  He turned to face me full-on. I expected the smile to still be on his face, but it had slid away, replaced by something else unreadable. “What’s up?”

  “I’m sorry. For . . . turning down dinner with you the other night. I probably came off pretty rude.”

  “Nah. You were busy, I get it.”

  My gaze drifted down to the drink in my hand. The guilt I’d been holding back was starting to be too much. “No, it was rude and I’m really sorry. What I actually should have said,” I turned to face him too, meeting his eyes again, “is that I’d love to.”