Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Revelations

by Lydia Sherrer

  When he didn’t reply, she braved a peek, only to discover that he was staring at her in unabashed amazement. More heat rushed to her cheeks but she stubbornly lifted her chin, determined to act normal. It was not a date, so there was no need to simper like a girl on her first outing.

  “I could say the same about you,” he finally got out. “You look stunning.” Remembering himself, he lifted his eyes from her body to her face, not bothering to hide his silly grin.

  “Hogwash,” she said, brushing the compliment away with her stepfather’s favorite phrase. That didn’t stop a pleased smile from touching her lips. But she quickly hid it and stepped forward to inspect the passenger seat of his car, ready in case anything alive and covered in mold jumped out.

  To her amazement, the front seat was miraculously clean. Crumbs still littered the floorboards, and a general mess of personal items cluttered the back. But all the pizza boxes were gone and he’d used air freshener—a lot of air freshener—on the interior.

  “Incredible. You actually cleaned your car. I didn’t think it was possible.”

  “Hey,” he protested, coming around to open the door for her. “I do know how to be a gentleman. I just usually don’t go to the effort.” Lily shot him a disapproving look but didn’t comment.

  They set off to the gala, the air between them filled with awkward silence. Strangely, it wasn’t just her; Sebastian seemed nervous, too. That was odd, since Sebastian was usually overconfident and cocky. Lily was distracted from pursuing this thought, however, by a sudden suspicion, and she twisted around to peer into the back seat.

  “Sir Kipling! No!” she exclaimed.

  “Wha—” Sebastian began.

  “Turn around, we have to go back.” She should have known. That sneaky feline hadn’t uttered a single plea to accompany her; it should have been obvious he was planning to stow away all along.

  “Balderdash. Tell him to keep going,” Sir Kipling said, peeved as he extricated himself from the pile of clothes he’d been using as camouflage.

  “No! You can’t go to a black tie event. You are a cat, not a human. And besides, I never had time to finish your ward collar. You could get hurt.”

  “What the heck is going on?” Sebastian asked, twisting around to look even though he was supposed to be driving.

  “Watch the road!” Lily yelled, resisting the urge to rub her face in frustration, as that would smudge her painstakingly applied makeup.

  “What is your cat doing in my car?”

  “Going home, that’s what he’s doing. Turn around.”

  “I need to go with you,” Sir Kipling meowed in protest.

  “Why is he meowing like that?” Sebastian pulled over so he could safely turn and stare at his stowaway.

  Lily sighed. “It’s a long story. And I said turn around, not stop.”

  “Hey, we’re in this together,” Sebastian reminded her. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re going to be late!” she insisted, voice rising in both annoyance and an effort to forestall further questions.

  “Not if you stop stalling and tell me what’s going on.”

  “Fine,” she said, throwing up her hands in defeat. “Something strange happened with an enchanted artifact and now Sir Kipling and I can understand each other. And he’s intelligent.”

  “Excuse me. I was always intelligent,” Sir Kipling interrupted.

  “So…when he meows, that means something to you?”

  “Yes.” Rubbing her face was out, so she settled for massaging her temples. “He’s been poking his nose into everything since it happened last week because whatever changed him told him there was danger coming and I would need his help.”

  “Okay. So why can’t he come?” Sebastian asked, looking confused.

  Lily groaned. “Not you, too! He is a cat.”

  Sir Kipling rolled his eyes, an impressive feat for a feline. “Why are we having this conversation again? Have you forgotten the understanding we came to only nights ago? Do I need to glow again?”

  “You can do that at will?” Lily asked, distracted.

  “No, but I’m sure if it needed to happen, it would.”

  “What the heck are you two talking about?” Sebastian asked plaintively, looking back and forth between them.

  Lily ignored the question, mouth set in unhappy lines as she tried to come up with a legitimate reason to insist Sir Kipling stay at home. His yellow eyes drilled into hers, challenging every objection. “Fine, fine!” she finally said, giving up and turning back around. “Let’s go, or we’ll be late. I’ll fill you in on the way,” she said in reply to Sebastian’s look of annoyance.

  * * *

  The gala, as it turned out, was a very nice affair. As the major fundraiser of the year for the museum, they’d pulled out all the stops. Lily was glad she’d instructed Sebastian to park down the street instead of in front of the museum where his beat-up Volvo would stand out among the sleek BMWs and Corvettes.

  Once parked, Lily got out and opened the back door for Sir Kipling, who hopped out and disappeared into the night with a parting meow that he would be close. She waited on the sidewalk for Sebastian, but he was fidgeting with something in his back seat. Annoyed at the delay, she peered around the car and saw him stuff something into his pocket.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “What? Oh, nothing.” Sebastian quickly withdrew his hand and tried to look casual. “Come on, let’s get going, or we’ll be late.” He stepped up onto the sidewalk and gallantly presented his arm as if he expected them to enter the museum as a couple. She gave him an incredulous look, and he dropped his arm with a shrug, turning to amble up the sidewalk. Following behind, she could see him shooting surreptitious glances up and down the street as if he were expecting someone. He had that nervous look again, and Lily wondered what he was up to.

  At the museum entrance she gave their names to the doorman. True to her word, Madam Barrington had acquired an extra ticket for Sebastian. Lily breathed an internal sigh of relief. As they entered, she felt the wards’ magic slide over her, allowing her passage. Once inside, they turned left to enter the large reception hall elegantly decorated in black and silver. Lily had to concentrate on not shrinking back as she entered the hall: there were so many people. She did not like crowds, nor people in general, really. Sebastian must have noticed her hesitation, because he took the liberty of grasping her elbow to guide her through the press and around the dinner tables to a mostly clear spot by one of the windows.

  “Stay here. Keep an eye out for that witch, or anything else suspicious. Oh, and find out where Aunt B. is so I know which part of the room to avoid.” He turned and made to disappear back into the crowd.

  “Wait,” Lily said, not quite desperately. “Where are you going?”

  He winked at her, though his expression was still tight. “I’m going to scope out the refreshments. I’ll be back.” And with that, he was gone.

  Lily took a few deep breaths, forcing her heart to stop racing as she surveyed the sea of strangers before her. They were just people; how bad could it be? Even if there were a lot—a whole lot—of them. As she focused on examining the crowd, she found herself relaxing. There was no need to talk to anyone. All she had to do was observe and analyze. Easy enough. She took in the scene, admiring the clusters of elegant partygoers. Everyone was dressed to the nines, and she was glad she’d worn her black dress. She would have looked like a pigeon among peacocks in her tweed suit.

  With a few more calming breaths, she extended a spell to probe for signs of magic beyond herself and the wards. There was Madam Barrington in a far corner, talking to an older man with a lady on his arm. Other than that, nothing. So she stopped looking for magic and started looking for a slight, cute girl with a pixie haircut.

  She was so engrossed in her search that when a tall, warm presence approached from the side, she turned absentmindedly, expecting to see Sebastian returned with drinks. It was not Sebastian. She started slightly, pu
tting a more polite distance between herself and the handsome stranger who regarded her with a winning smile.

  “What’s someone as pretty as you doing all alone in the corner?” he asked.

  “I’m—” she was about to say “looking for a thief,” but stopped herself just in time and scrambled to think of an explanation that didn’t make her sound insane. “I’m just…well, I’m…”

  “—waiting for me to come back with drinks,” Sebastian finished for her, reappearing from the press of bodies holding two glasses. He glared at the other man. “Shove off, she’s with me.”

  Lily gasped in surprise, not only at Sebastian’s rudeness but also his presumption. With him indeed, she thought angrily. As if.

  His words had the desired effect, however, and the other man turned with an offended scowl and disappeared.

  Satisfied, Sebastian turned back and offered her one of the flutes of what looked like champagne. She did not accept it. “I do not appreciate your interference,” she stated, arms crossed. “What did you think you were doing?”

  He returned her irate look coolly, eyebrow raised. “I was simply trying to prevent distraction while you’re supposed to be helping me stop the theft of a dangerous magical artifact. Insulting the man seemed the quickest way to get rid of him. Excuse me for doing my job. Next time I’ll let you extract yourself from the clutches of your adoring fans.”

  Lily blushed furiously, realizing she’d read too much into Sebastian’s gesture. Or had she? Men were so confusing, and right now was not the time to try to figure them out. She decided to drop the subject, replying instead to his still-extended offering of drink. “Thank you, but I don’t like champagne.”

  He smiled smugly. “That’s why I got you sparkling grape juice.”

  “Oh,” she said in a small voice. Chagrined, she took the glass and sipped it as she continued to scan the crowd.

  “No sign of the girl yet?” he asked, eyes darting back and forth.

  “No.”

  “What about the Bat?”

  Lily rolled her eyes. “She’s over there, and we should go talk to her.”

  “How about you do that, and I’ll mingle and see if I can spot our wayward witch.”

  “All you need for that is a mirror,” Lily muttered.

  “What?” Sebastian seemed jumpy and distracted.

  “Never mind. It was just a joke.”

  “Ah. I’ll just go, um, look around, okay?”

  She watched him closely as he drifted off into the crowd, wondering what in the world was making him so uncharacteristically nervous. Was it the close proximity to Madam Barrington? Or was it something else? He was usually gung-ho about dangerous adventure, but tonight he seemed…guilty. Yes, that’s the word she was looking for. But she had to be imagining it. What would he be guilty about?

  Shaking off her suspicions, she braced herself and dove into the crowd, aiming for the far corner where Madam Barrington still conversed with the older gentleman. Arriving, she stood at a polite distance so as not to intrude on their conversation. While she waited, she admired her mentor’s floor-length gown. It was vintage 1940s, made of slinky satin dyed the deepest purple, almost black, that showed off her well-kept form. What made it so stunning, however, was the flowing patterns of tiny crystal beading in shades of purple and silver that began at the hem and swept up and around the body, ending at the shoulders where it complimented the deep amethyst color of the brooch she always wore. Old, Madam Barrington might be. Frumpy, she was not.

  When the old man and his companion moved off, Lily approached, turning to put her back to the wall and front to the crowd.

  “No sign of anything yet,” she said, eyes on the guests.

  “Nor would there be,” Madam Barrington assured her. “During cocktail hour the museum exhibits are still open and the guests will be enjoying the sights. It would be too public to attempt anything until dinner. In any event, the conveyance spell will alert me if the tablet’s security is breached.”

  “Ah, yes.” Lily nodded, reassured.

  Sebastian didn’t reappear until the meal had almost started. He slid into an empty seat at their table as far away from his aunt as possible and didn’t make eye contact. Oddly, he wouldn’t look at Lily either, though that might have just been because she sat next to Madam Barrington. Food was served and they listened to various speeches by the museum director and the Dean of Arts and Sciences. Lily had trouble enjoying her food, feeling they should be standing guard by the tablet instead of sitting around a table enjoying filet mignon and grilled portobellos. But Madam Barrington had made it clear the museum director didn’t want them causing a fuss. There was professional security guarding the entrance and that, the director deemed, was enough.

  It was possible, of course, that all their worry was for naught. The tablet might not be the thief’s target. Lily tried to believe that all the way through dinner to dessert, when Sebastian quietly excused himself and slipped out of the reception hall. She wanted to follow, but a look from Madam Barrington kept her seated. Sebastian was perfectly capable of keeping an eye on the situation by himself. Unless, of course, he had more in mind than watching. But that was ridiculous. She told herself to stop entertaining wild suspicions and enjoy her chocolate cheesecake. She managed it, too, until she felt a brush of fur on her leg that almost made her jump right out of her skin. Looking surreptitiously under the table, she saw Sir Kipling staring at her with wide yellow eyes. He motioned urgently toward the door, then disappeared again, somehow slipping from table to table unnoticed as he made for the exit.

  Without a word to Madam Barrington—how could she explain Sir Kipling at this juncture?—she hurried out of the reception hall and into the museum proper. Sir Kipling’s tail was just disappearing into the muted darkness of the now-closed exhibit hall. Glancing to her right and noting that the security guard was nowhere to be seen, she passed the stanchion post bearing the sign “Closed” and hurried after her cat. She followed him into one of the side rooms and was greeted with the sight of a silent but furious struggle. Sebastian had the pixie haircut girl by the wrists, obviously trying to subdue her. She, however, was having none of it, and writhed and kicked like a cat held over a bathtub full of water. Normally, Sebastian could have handled so slight a girl, but he was distracted by a large club hovering overhead—controlled, Lily assumed, by the girl’s poltergeist—which was taking swipes at him. Sir Kipling sat just inside the door, watching the spectacle with obvious interest but not lifting a single claw to help.

  “Stop it!” Lily hissed, trying her best to be quiet and commanding at the same time. Both humans froze in surprise, but the hovering club seized the moment of distraction to try and clobber Sebastian over the head. Acting on pure instinct, Lily flung out her hand, speaking the word for shield with a razor sharp focus that resulted in the club bouncing off of an invisible barrier instead of Sebastian’s head and clattering to the floor.

  All three of them remained still, listening for the sound of a guard Lily remembered wasn’t there. Yet she was too shocked at what had happened to inform Sebastian. She’d just performed battle magic: a dangerous method of casting where the Source responded instantaneously to instinct more than conscious thought. She decided it must have been a fluke; experienced wizards had trouble attempting such advanced casting, so she certainly couldn’t have done it.

  It was Sir Kipling who broke the silence. “You should probably ask them what they’re doing,” he commented, sounding amused.

  Both Sebastian and the girl looked at the feline, and Lily took the opportunity to grab the heavy club off the ground before it could do more damage.

  “What’s going on?” Lily asked sternly, still trying to keep as quiet as possible.

  “Lover’s tussle, dearie,” the pixie girl said with a taunting grin. “Though a stick-in-the-mud like you probably doesn’t even know what a lover is, do you?”

  Both she and Sebastian opened their mouths to protest, but Sebastian beat her
to the chase “She’s messing with you, Lil, ignore her. I’m trying to stop her from stealing the tablet.”

  “Stop me from stealing the tablet? Now that’s rich, seeing as how you’re the one who took the contract.”

  “What?” Lily’s gut tightened in sudden anxiety and she looked into Sebastian’s face, not wanting to believe but feeling doubt nibbling at her resolve. He had been acting mighty suspicious of late. “What is she talking about, Sebastian?”

  “I have no idea, Lily. She’s spouting nonsense to throw you off. You’ve got to believe me! I’m the one who warned you about this whole thing in the first place. Why would I steal it? I came out here to check on things and found her”—he gave the pixie girl a shake—”creeping toward the Near East exhibit hall.”

  “Yeah, right,” the girl said, glaring at her captor. “I was just hanging around to keep an eye on the tablet. I knew it was in danger from someone on the inside. Why else would they have passed me up when the bid went out? I’m the best there—” She stopped suddenly, realizing what she was saying.

  “So you are the thief!” Lily accused, relief flooding her body.

  “No, I’m not! I’m not here to steal anything. I’m here to keep it from being stolen. If I foil whatever bastard got the contract—” she took the opportunity to aim a kick at Sebastian’s shin, which he expertly dodged “—it might be up for grabs later. Why would I waste time stealing something I wasn’t getting paid for?”

  Lily looked back and forth between the girl and Sebastian, torn.

  “Look, Lil, you have got to trust me.” Sebastian looked at her pleadingly. “You know me, I wouldn’t do something like this. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  She looked into his eyes and didn’t know what to believe. If she hadn’t known his past, if Madam Barrington hadn’t told her about…but his reckless decisions and unwise deals had all been to get his parents back, not for personal gain. He had to be good at heart, right? If she could trust a talking cat, couldn’t she trust a friend who had watched her back on many an adventure? With that thought, the balance tipped in his favor and she decided she would rather trust him and be proven wrong, than not trust him and be proven right.