by Amy Boyles
We huddled in the living room. I shrugged off my jacket and tossed it onto the couch.
Cordelia placed the box on the coffee table. “Everyone stand back. In case something’s going to jump out at us, I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”
Betty sniffed. “Ha, see there? I’m not the only person who thinks something smelly might be going on.”
Cordelia’s gaze slashed to Betty. “No, you’re not. But if we left it up to you, we’d never know what was inside.” She flared her arms. “Now, stand back.”
We each retreated a large step. Betty continued to eye the box as if it was a Russian spy while Amelia balled her hands to her face in anticipation and I wondered when dinner was being served and what we were having.
I really should’ve eaten some of the funnel cake.
Cordelia raised her hand. The bow unfurled, and the ribbons snaked down the sides. With a flick of her wrist the box flapped open.
A small heart made of purple smoke puffed from the center of the box. It twirled a full rotation before disappearing.
Cordelia peered into the opening. She sighed and dipped in her hands. She opened her palms to reveal a small music box. In the center stood Cinderella, spinning around at the ball, the glass slippers on her feet.
Cordelia handed it to Betty, who stared at it suspiciously. “I don’t like the way it smells.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “For goodness’ sake.” She placed it on the table and pulled something else from the box.
“There’s a card.” Amelia plucked it from Cordelia’s hands before Cordelia had a chance to read it. “Let me see that.”
Amelia cleared her throat. “‘Betty—’” She peeked over the card and smiled. “I like how this admirer wrote ‘Betty.’ It’s very masculine and strong, but with a touch of intelligence.”
“Oh, get on with it,” Betty snapped.
Amelia buttoned her lips into a little bow. “Whatever you want.”
“That’s what I want.”
“Then I’m doing it,” Amelia shot back.
“You’re not doing it fast enough.” I plucked the card from Amelia’s fingers. “‘Betty, you are like a shining diamond in a cave. Your brilliance may be hidden, but those who recognize its beauty are ready to cut away the rough to witness the majesty within.’”
“Wow, he doesn’t know you at all,” Cordelia murmured.
I bit the inside of my lip to keep from laughing.
“Well?” Curiosity sparked in Betty’s eyes. “Is there anything else?”
“Only that it’s signed ‘Your Secret Admirer.’”
“Is that it?” Betty threw up her hands. “How am I supposed to figure out who it is? Is there a riddle in the words? A treasure map that leads me to his house?”
I clicked my tongue. “I don’t see a treasure map.”
“And it’s not a riddle.” Amelia wrapped an arm around Betty. “Looks like you’ll just have to wait.”
Betty traced a finger over the miniature Cinderella. When she caught me staring at her, Betty’s mouth dipped into a frown. “There are ways of finding things out. Secret admirer. Phooey. This is someone playing a trick on an old woman.”
“You don’t know that,” I said.
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “I do know that.” Betty hugged the music box to her chest. “I’m taking this upstairs, and then I’ll start on dinner. It’ll be ready in an hour.”
She trudged up the stairs, leaving me and my cousins to stare at each other and wonder if Betty was right.
“Betty’s got a secret admirer.” It was after dinner. Axel Reign, my boyfriend and Magnolia Cove’s resident private investigator, had picked me up in his old Land Rover.
When I’d asked him where we were headed, Axel would only confess that it was a surprise.
I couldn’t wait.
Winter had finally decided to release its blustery hold and allow a whisper of spring to fill the air.
“Does she?” He threaded his fingers through mine and brought my hand to his lips. A surge of pleasure jutted down my spine. I swallowed, trying to put some moisture back in my suddenly desert-dry mouth.
“Someone sent her a music box.”
His gaze cut from the windshield to me. “Would you like me to send you a music box? Is this a hint?”
I laughed. “No, not a hint.”
He steered the Land Rover up a hill and then cut off down a dirt road.
“Seriously? Where are you taking me? Is some scary guy going to jump out of these woods and kidnap me? The giants don’t come this far, do they?”
Axel chuckled. “No, the giants stay on their hill. Don’t worry. No one’s out here.”
The sun burned down the horizon, leaving smears of pink and gold behind the pines and poplars of the forest. Axel braked to a stop on the side of the road.
“We walk from here.”
“Is this part of the Cobweb Forest?”
“Sure is.” He exited the SUV and came around, opening my door with a flourish. I took the hand he offered and followed.
“The trees here are amazing.” They jutted like long fingers toward the sky, creating a canopy taller than what I’d seen in the rest of Magnolia Cove.
“This is the oldest part of the forest.” He raked his muscular fingers through his shoulder-length dark hair. “It can be a little hinky.”
“What do you mean?”
Trees in front of us shifted, moving to the right and left. The earth trembled beneath my feet.
I jumped back. “Holy gee!”
Axel chuckled. “They move here. They shouldn’t run into you, but be careful.”
I paused and stared at what the trees had done. “They created a path for us?” Fear trickled into my voice, making me sound breathless.
Axel cocked a brow. “I like this new voice. Very husky. It’s sexy.”
I swatted his arm. “Stop it.”
I crossed to one of the trees and placed a hand on the bark. A series of images filled my head. A person dressed in dark clothing moved through the trees. A witch. I could tell by the aura of power emanating off them.
But I didn’t normally see auras of power on witches. Yet somehow this tree was showing me that. Allowing me to witness as several figures drifted through the forest. Another witch, wrists roped, struggled and fought as she was pulled forward, a victim being dragging through the forest.
Victim?
Where had that word come from? I gazed up at the tree and realized it had popped the word straight into my head. Slowly I released my palm from the trunk and strode back to Axel.
Unsure of what I’d seen, I focused on the most obvious question. “But why do the trees move?”
Axel studied me. His jaw clenched, and he raised his nose, sniffing the air. He knew I was keeping something from him.
“The simplest answer is that they move because they can.” His eyes darkened. “But you saw something.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what. Until I can process it, I’m not sure how to answer.”
“Fair enough.”
Axel took my hand and led me up a small hill. “This is what I wanted to show you.”
Golden light streaked through the forest. I shielded my eyes as a looming giant rose in the distance. When the image sharpened, I sucked air.
“Oh my word. That is gorgeous.”
A tree that I can only describe as one of life sat squarely on top of the hill. Massive didn’t describe it. Branches forked in every direction. It would’ve taken ten people holding hands to ring the trunk. Knots pimpled the surface, and holes that I imagine were homes to several different species of animal bored into the trunk.
“That is magnificent,” I whispered.
“I knew you’d like it. It’s oak.”
I circled the tree. The air around it shimmered out and in as if the tree breathed through lungs. The ends of the branched curled almost whimsically.
The oak seemed to call out to be touched, as if it yearned
for a human hand.
Feeling shy but not intimidated, I pressed my palm to the rough bark. The wood seemed to swell around my skin. I shivered and withdrew.
I gazed up in wonder. “What is this?”
Axel crossed his arms and studied me approvingly. “This is the other heart of Magnolia Cove.”
I carefully picked my way over the ropes of roots. “What do you mean, the other heart?”
Axel crossed to the tree and patted the trunk. “In the same way that the hearth fire is the magical center of Magnolia Cove, this tree is a different sort of power center. It’s more the moral center of Magnolia Cove.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand. What I saw…”
Axel shot me a look full of interest. “What did you see?”
I shook my head. “It was weird. A witch was dragging another witch in this direction. I didn’t understand it, but I felt…”
I rubbed my temples. The image came in streaks of red and black, like ribbons coiled around my brain.
Axel rubbed my shoulders soothingly. “It’s okay. Whatever it was, it was in the past.”
I exhaled. “Right. But I felt like the witch was being dragged here for some sort of sacrifice.” I gazed at Axel in shock. “Could that be? Are there witches here in Magnolia Cove doing dark magic?”
Axel’s brow furrowed. His blue eyes shifted to a turbulent sea. “If anyone is, they’re hiding it pretty darn well. This tree is supposed to be full of light and goodness.”
I gazed up at the curled branches. “I feel that. So then why would witches be working dark magic here?”
Axel shook his head and tugged me to him. “What you saw might’ve been years ago. Centuries. Just a recording in time. It doesn’t necessarily mean that there are witches working evil now.”
I nodded numbly. “Right. That’s not what it means.”
Feeling the need to break the bleak hold the vision had me tied up in, I shook out my body and exhaled.
“That a girl,” Axel said. “Shake it out.”
I laughed quietly and shot the tree one more look. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome.”
I threaded my fingers through his, and we walked quietly back to the SUV. For all Axel said, I still had the feeling that the vision wasn’t from long ago.
For some reason it seemed like it had happened only yesterday.
THREE
The phone rang bright and early at Familiar Place Monday morning. Hugo, my adolescent dragon familiar, lay sprawled on the floor. He gazed up lazily at me as if asking when I would answer.
“All right, I’m getting it.” I picked up the wall phone. “Familiar Place, Pepper speaking.”
A cheerful voice verging on overly chipper greeted me. “Well howdy there, Miss Dunn. This is CJ. We met at the yard sale.”
“Ah, yes. I remember. How are you?”
“I’m doing mighty fine. It’s been some nice weather these past couple of days, wouldn’t you say?”
“I would.”
“Yes indeed.”
Long pause. To fill the silence, I said anything I could think of. “Did you get all of Mr. Albod’s effects sold off?”
“Not quite, but what the yard sale didn’t do, the children can divide amongst themselves. You know,” he said, his voice deepening as if switching gears, “it’s funny you asked about Mr. Albod. How’s the feline treating you?”
To be honest I hadn’t taken the thing out of my purse since the moment I bought it. I’d even forgotten to mention it to Axel given all the ruckus about Betty and her secret admirer.
“It’s just fine.”
“If you’d like to learn how to use it, like I said, the familiar society is meeting tonight. We’d love to have you as our guest.”
I balked. “I don’t know. There’s so much work that needs to be done at the store.”
That wasn’t true, but did I really want to sit around a bunch of dried-up old witches pondering the wonders of familiars?
Ugh. Give me a break.
“Della Frost always makes banana pudding,” he offered.
“Done.” Who could resist banana pudding? Betty hardly ever made it, and banana pudding was like the best dessert on the planet. Don’t ask me why mixing vanilla wafers, pudding and bananas was so darned good, but it was sinful.
“I’ll be there,” I confirmed. “What time?”
“You promised there’d be good-looking men here.” Amelia glared at me sharply. “I don’t see any.”
I nudged her toward a silver-haired fox on the other side of the meeting room. “He looks available.”
“He looks old enough to be Betty’s secret admirer,” she snapped.
“Banana pudding,” I reminded.
She rolled her eyes.
Yep. Banana pudding didn’t just have a hold over me. Promises of that sweet dessert could rope in just about anyone.
We stood in CJ’s foyer. Apparently society members took turns hosting meetings. A tray of cookies made the rounds while Amelia and I huddled in the corner.
“You must be Pepper Dunn.” A young woman with blonde hair and sparkling green eyes appeared bearing cups of pudding.
“Thank you.” I took one. “This is my cousin, Amelia.”
Amelia had already spooned a scoop into her mouth. She covered her lips and spoke, her voice muffled. “How do you do?”
The woman’s mouth split into a wide, red smile. “Just fine. I’m Della Frost. One of the members of the society.”
“Thank you for having me,” I said.
“Oh, you’re welcome. CJ told us all about your find at the yard sale.” Her eyes filled with a dreamy gaze as they landed on CJ. “We couldn’t wait to see it.” She spoke to us but stared at him.
Amelia shot me a look.
I poked my spoon in the pudding. “Are you and CJ dating?”
“What? No, why would we be dating? We’re not dating. At all. Trust me.” Della smacked her lips. “Nope. Not even a little. We are not together.”
“I think I got it.” Amelia’s gaze drifted around the room. It landed on something or someone. Her eyes flared. She elbowed me. “Oh no. Who is that? She looks aiming for a fight.”
I peered around Della. In the doorway stood Willow Dean Gar, the woman who’d promised me death would come from the critterling.
A black shawl draped over Willow Dean’s hunched shoulders. She shuffled into the room quickly, as if hoping no one would see her, and plopped into a chair.
“Oh no.” Della rubbed her nose. “That woman’s awful. Why, last time she came—”
A spoon clanking against a glass stopped all conversation. CJ appeared at the head of the room, standing in front of a fireplace. He smiled brightly and spread his arms.
“Welcome, everyone, to the meeting of the Magnolia Cove Familiar Society. We’ve got a special guest today, one Pepper Dunn.”
Della guided me and Amelia to a couple of seats in back. Several folks turned to clap for the newcomers.
“Yes, it’s wonderful,” CJ cooed. “Let’s give Pepper a big welcome. But”—he poked the air—“there’s a reason why we’re here. Pepper needs our help, and I know the good folks of the familiar society will help her however we can.”
“Thank you,” I murmured.
CJ tucked a thumb under his lapel and tugged at the fabric. “But before we assist Pepper, let’s cover some business.”
Amelia and I sat through thirty minutes of news.
Ingrid, a woman with pale skin sunblotched from age, announced her familiar had birthed a litter of kittens.
“And how’s your magic been?” CJ asked.
Ingrid shrugged. “It’s getting better, though it’s still a little iffy.”
CJ’s gaze swept around the room. “For those of y’all who don’t know, Ingrid suffers from an affliction I like to call situational magic.”
Ingrid nodded. “When I’m nervous, my magic doesn’t always work. Sometimes it sputters and dies.”
Amelia whispered in my ear. “Sounds like something I’d like to afflict Betty with sometime.”
I bit back a laugh.
The conversation continued around the room. Jerome Puryear, Ingrid’s husband, relayed his familiar had been diagnosed with a terminal form of cancer.
A few tears were shed at that.
Then Neville Mabury, a small, nervous man, claimed his familiar had been cursed. His dog barked all hours of the night.
It was fascinating.
Not. At. All.
Finally CJ turned the floor over to me. I walked to the front of the room and pulled the golden feline from my purse.
A chorus of oohs and ahs ignited around me.
“So I picked up this little guy, and CJ informed me that it’s a critterling. I don’t know how to use it, though, and I was wondering if anyone could enlighten me?”
My gaze cut to Willow Dean Gar. One of her eyes cocked wide as she stared at the figure. I cringed, praying she wouldn’t burst into some stupid tirade about curses and dying.
“It’s very easy to use,” Jerome answered. He was a tall man with wide shoulders. He looked to be in his fifties, but only a hint of middle-aged spread covered his belly.
His baritone thundered in the small room. “All you have to do is rub the vessel and coax your familiar’s spirit inside.”
“Oh? Is it like astral projection?” Amelia asked.
Jerome nodded. He spoke slowly, methodically. “Just like it. The magic of the vessel should help draw in the familiar.”
“It can be jarring for the familiar the first couple of times,” Neville added. “But once they get used to it, it’s easy.”
“So all I have to do”—I lifted the statue to my eye level—“is rub it like this and—”
Everything happened at once.
Something shot from the critterling and streamed into the room. The golden cat tumbled from my hand and clattered to the floor. A long trail of smoke darted around CJ’s living room, smashing the lights. Bulbs exploded. Glass shattered. Witches screamed.
Beneath all the chaos, Willow Dean’s voice rumbled to life. “Death to all who own the figure!”
