Hemlocked and Loaded

by Annabel Chase

  “I think so,” Laurel said. “Or maybe other paranormal towns. Either way, it suggests a way out of Spellbound.”

  “An exit sign would be even better,” I said. No one laughed. The coven was a tough crowd.

  “The strings are like the rungs of a ladder,” Laurel explained, pointing to the harp symbol. “In some ancient cultures, they symbolized a pathway to paradise.”

  “I’d hardly call the human world paradise,” I joked.

  “For the Celts, the harp symbolized a bridge of love,” Professor Holmes said. “The connection between heaven and earth.”

  Something awful occurred to me. “Does that suggest the only way out is death?”

  “We assume not,” Lady Weatherby said. “Although with references to paradise and heaven, it’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

  I thought of the different wards we discussed in class recently. “Could it also mean if we break the curse, we all die?” I asked. “Maybe the curse is booby-trapped. If we trip the alarm, the whole thing blows.”

  Lady Weatherby’s perfectly sculpted cheek twitched. “We cannot know unless we try. Otherwise, we resign ourselves to this fate.”

  “Further research is needed, of course,” Professor Holmes said. “There are more books with potential information than we have time to read.”

  “Maybe the net you’re casting is too wide,” I suggested. “When I used to practice law, if we had a client with limited resources, we had to be very targeted in our searches because we couldn’t spend too much money. A wide net would have meant a much bigger bill and an unhappy client.”

  “And we have limited resources,” Professor Holmes murmured.

  “Is there a reason we need to keep this so quiet?” I asked. “I know you don’t want to get everyone’s hopes up, but if you need more help, I bet paranormals would line up to offer assistance.”

  Lady Weatherby shook her head. “We can’t have too many witches near the cauldron. It spoils the stew.”

  “We can’t have the parchments accessible to everyone,” Meg said. “They’re too valuable.”

  “We’ve made copies before,” I countered. “Why not copies to distribute to the masses? Let others swarm the town library and have the witches and warlocks use the coven library.”

  Lady Weatherby stared out the window, contemplating my suggestion. “I shall take it under advisement.”

  “I don’t mean to be difficult…” I began.

  Lady Weatherby turned to face me. “And yet here you are.”

  “What’s your objection to more help?” I asked. “Why are you so afraid to give residents information? There are a lot of intelligent paranormals out there who want to break this curse as much as you do. Even your mother would have insight into this.”

  “If my mother had insight into this,” Lady Weatherby said in a clipped tone, “then she would have broken the curse when the coven was under her control.”

  Right. I decided not to push the issue any further. Not today. I’d only just been invited to the meetings and I’d already annoyed the leader. Well done, me.

  “Just so we’re clear, the information stays within the coven for now,” Lady Weatherby said. “I’ve been giving regular updates to the council, of course, but let that be the extent of it.”

  I nodded mutely. If I expected to be invited back, I had to accept the terms. Unfortunately, that meant no Grey sisters or Raisa. Lady Weatherby had her reasons for playing this close to the vest and I had to respect them, whether I agreed or not. Of course, nothing she said would prevent me from sharing Laurel’s information with Agnes. After all, the elderly witch was technically still a member of the coven.

  I smiled to myself as the meeting was adjourned. In the care home, Agnes’ hands were nothing but idle. It was time to put them to work.

  After an afternoon in the office trying to convince Althea that I didn’t need garden gnomes as a wedding present, I decided to pay a visit to Leanne’s husband, Richard. The Spellbound Bank was located on the side of town near the library. Instead of waiting in the teller line, I went to the seated area where the manager's desk was located. I grabbed a lollipop from the counter and popped it into my mouth while I waited for the man I identified as Richard. He was mid-conversation with another customer. With a buzz cut and a neatly pressed dress shirt, he looked as dry and reliable as I expected. While I’d initially considered telling Astrid what I was up to, I had a few financial questions to ask anyway, so I opted to speak to him solo. Two birds, one bank visit.

  Richard beckoned me over once the other customer had vacated the seat.

  "Good afternoon, miss,” he greeted me. "How can I help you today?" His smile was perfunctory, like the rest of him.

  I took the lollipop out of my mouth to speak. "I have a few questions that I hope you can answer. First, I'd like to know what kind of lollipop this is and why it tastes like starmark juice.”

  Richard looked at me like I was an alien who’d just announced my intention to lord over his people. “You’ve never had a Wishpop?”

  I glanced at the lollipop in my hand. “I guess not. What is it?”

  “The lollipop tastes however you want it to taste,” he explained. “It’s a blank slate waiting for your input.”

  “How have I never heard of these?” I licked it again. Yep, starmark juice.

  “We always keep them on the counters here,” Richard said, without cracking a smile. “You can buy them in bulk at the Wish Market.”

  “Good to know.” Great. A new food obsession. Just what I needed before my wedding. “Now that the mystery of the lollipop is solved, I’d like information about setting up a trust fund at the bank."

  He clasped his hands together on the desk. "We can certainly help with that. I’ll need some basic information like your name, address, the recipient’s name…”

  "About that…” Was I really going to ask? I gulped. Apparently, I was. “What if the recipient is a cat?"

  He looked unperturbed. "You mean a familiar?"

  "No, I mean a domestic cat." A hellbeast, more accurately, but Richard didn’t need to know the specifics.

  "And you want this trust in place so that there are funds to care for the cat in the event of your death?" he asked.

  “Yes,” I said. The possibility had been on my mind ever since the trials to obtain the unicorn horn. If something had happened to me then, I realized that Magpie would’ve been left adrift. I couldn’t risk that happening. Even if Gareth improved his interaction with the physical world tenfold, he’d still be a ghost. Magpie needed someone…alive. Or at least not dead undead.

  “How old is the cat?” he asked.

  “No idea,” I replied. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that Magpie used to run amok with the dinosaurs. “I’m also thinking that if I decide to move in with my fiancé once we're married, I’d like to have money in a trust to pay for the upkeep of the house where the cat would continue to live. I wouldn't want to relocate Magpie." I didn't mention Gareth. It didn't seem necessary.

  Incredibly, Richard acted like this was the most normal request in the world and that he could—and would—handle it. In that moment, I understood what Leanne saw in him. Maxwell was right; Richard’s can-do attitude was probably in direct contrast to Seamus’s.

  “I’m not sure you need a trust for that,” Richard said. “Maybe just a separate account dedicated to the cat’s living expenses.”

  “You don’t think it’s a strange request?” I asked. I did, and I was the one asking.

  "It's not strange at all," he said. "You’d be surprised by the types of requests we get here at the bank. I would also recommend speaking to a lawyer about a will that mentions the trust and leaves clear instructions for the house. Don’t leave a mess for your heirs to clean up.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” I said. “I’m a lawyer, so I was planning to take care of that part myself."

  Richard gave a curt nod. “Then you know all about it."

  And
now it was time for Questions for Richard, Part Deux. “I had the pleasure of meeting your wife recently at Ready-to-Were,” I said. "Congratulations on your bundle of joy."

  Richard offered a genuine smile this time. "Thank you so much. We couldn't be more thrilled.”

  "It's a shame that such a happy time has to coincide with Seamus's death. I know how much Leanne cared about him."

  Richard sniffed. “That pixie wasn't good enough for her. Never was. That's not to say I'm not sorry about his death. It's always sad when someone goes before his time. Seamus still had his whole life ahead of him.”

  Well, that seemed like a perfectly sensible response. Not the reply of an angry, jealous killer.

  "I understand you saw Seamus recently at the casino,” I said, and watched closely for a reaction.

  His expression hardened, a shift that emphasized his square jaw. “I saw him, but that's it. We didn't exchange words. I left that to Leanne. She’s always had a soft spot for him, even after the breakup."

  “Did that bother you at all? Her soft spot for him?"

  “Of course it did,” he said. “That being said, it's one of the qualities I love about Leanne—her soft heart. Balances out my coldness nicely."

  “I know we only just met, but you don't strike me as a cold fish," I said. Polite and perfunctory, yes. Cold and calculating, no.

  "That's kind of you to say," Richard said. "But I know my shortcomings. I call them as I see them and I don't sugarcoat anything. I do express my feelings—I’ll say that much—but they’re not always as compassionate as Leanne’s.”

  Richard had more in common with my therapist than he knew.

  “Leanne mentioned that the two of you had an argument after the casino about Seamus," I said.

  His thick eyebrows knitted together. "I didn't want to see her getting stuck in again. He was having some issues and I could see her wanting to help, but we have our own family to focus on now. Seamus is…was a grown pixie. He needed to handle his own business without Leanne's constant emotional support."

  “Were you angry with Seamus?" I queried.

  He gave a dismissive shake of his head. "It's hard to be angry at a guy like that. He was too nice. A sad sack, but nice. Too bad his older brother inherited the werelion’s share of the good genes.”

  Wait, what? “His older brother?” I queried. Now that I thought about it, someone had mentioned a brother. For some reason, I’d assumed he was younger than Seamus, probably because the house was left to Seamus.

  “Sean,” Richard said. “He’s a counselor over at the high school. From what Leanne has told me, he’s the opposite of Seamus. Very pulled together.”

  “If Sean is older, why was Seamus the one who inherited the house?” I asked.

  Richard’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes. I recall Leanne telling me about resentment between the brothers because of that. I don’t know the details, though. You’d have to ask Sean.”

  Oh, I definitely would. “Thanks for your time, Richard. And congratulations on the baby. I wish you all the luck in the world. I know the two of you are going to make great parents."

  "Thank you," he replied. "Let me know when you're ready to make a decision on the trust. Spellbound Bank is always here to help.”

  “Thanks, Richard. I will." On the way out, I plucked another Wishpop from the counter and focused on the taste of my grandmother’s homemade lemonade. The flavor melted in my mouth. If there was one thing I’d learned in Spellbound, it was that even the smallest acts of magic could pack a powerful emotional punch.

  Chapter 10

  I stared at the tower of books in front of me, my eyes burning from fatigue.

  “I’m glad they decided to include you,” Laurel said.

  “I’m not sure ‘they’ decided, so much as Janis Goodfellow kicked up a fuss,” I said.

  We sat at a table in the library with more books than we could possibly get through in one sitting. Laurel wanted to research additional symbols and I’d volunteered to help. Although it was past her curfew, her mother said it was fine as long as she was with me and we stayed in the library. In other words, no Horned Owl, not that I would ever be irresponsible enough to have Laurel accompany me there. I may be flexible in my approach to rules, like Janis claimed, but not when it came to other paranormals’ children.

  Laurel thumbed her way through one book after another. At the rate she moved, she put speed-readers to shame. She was so focused on her own task that it took her a full twenty minutes to realize I was no longer looking through her chosen pile of books on ancient symbols.

  “Why do you have a book on ghosts?” she queried.

  Although I tried to keep the cover somewhat hidden, I should have known Laurel would be too perceptive.

  “I’m doing a little research of my own,” I said vaguely.

  Laurel’s brow wrinkled. “On ghosts? I would think you’d be an expert by now.” She read the title aloud. “A Girl’s Guide to Ghosts and Their Spiritual Journeys.” She looked confused. “Is it chick lit or nonfiction?”

  I closed the book and set it aside. “It’s not helpful is what it is.” I picked up another book from my secret stash and began to flip through it.

  “A Good Ghost’s Survival Guide? What are you trying to find?” Laurel asked.

  I knew there was no way out now. I should’ve stuck to the original plan. I closed the book and blew out an anxious breath. “I’m worried about Gareth.”

  “Why? He seems to be making great progress with Lyra.”

  “Oh, he is.” I slumped in my seat. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  Laurel lowered her voice, even though there was no one in sight. “Then what is it?”

  I fiddled with the quill on the table. “Gareth’s ghost is trapped in Spellbound because of the curse. Those box tickers in the bureaucratic afterlife wouldn’t let him enter another realm. If we break the curse, I worry about what will happen to him.”

  A flash of understanding lit up Laurel’s eyes. “So if we break the curse, you’re afraid Gareth will finally be able to pass into the next realm?”

  I nodded. “I want to know whether he’ll have a choice at that point. Will he simply evaporate and I’ll never see him again?” I wasn’t sure which realm vampires moved on to, but I was fairly certain it wouldn’t be the same place I went.

  Laurel appeared thoughtful. “What about the other residents who’ve died over the years? Their spirits aren’t all trapped here.”

  “Not that we can see,” I said. “I have a connection to Gareth because of the house and my sorceress skills.” That was the prevailing view, anyway. I was still an enigma to many in town, including me.

  “And everyone can see Raisa,” Laurel said, appearing to understand.

  “Yep. She’s just that powerful, even in death.” I shuddered. As much as I liked Raisa, those iron teeth were still enough to put me on edge.

  Laurel sat quietly for a moment. Finally, she said, “We all love Gareth, Emma, but I think the priority has to be figuring out how to break the curse. With the unicorn horn, the coven has never been this close before.”

  “Oh, I agree,” I said. “I want to be ready, that’s all. If there’s a way to save Gareth, I want to know what it is now, before it’s too late.”

  Laurel bit her lip. “I hate to ask, but have you considered the fact that Gareth might not want to be saved?”

  I clenched my teeth. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean maybe he’s ready to move on,” she said. “I know he loves you and Magpie, but it doesn’t mean he’d choose to stay here if given the option to go. He is, by definition, a restless spirit.”

  Now it was my turn to fall silent. Gareth wouldn’t choose to leave us, would he? As annoying as his presence was at times, especially with my upcoming marriage, I still couldn’t imagine life without him.

  “That’s a ridiculously large pile of books, even for you lot.”

  A sharp intake of breath escaped me. “Gareth, what a
re you doing here?” I placed my hands over the book so he couldn’t read the title.

  “You know the library is one of the places I can manifest,” he said. “I didn’t realize you were here until I saw you.” He chuckled. “I managed to scare a woman in the Diseases aisle by sliding a few titles off the shelf. A Healer’s Guide to Syphilis and Fish Odor Syndrome and You.”

  “You’re awful,” I said.

  He shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll find them useful.” He tried to peer over my shoulder. “Why are you hiding your book?”

  I leaned my elbow casually on the table and twisted my body toward him. “I’m not hiding anything. Laurel and I are working on breaking the curse and we’re not supposed to have any information in public.”

  “The coven wants everything hush-hush until we’re further along,” Laurel added. Although she couldn’t see or hear Gareth, she could tell his approximate location based on my body language.

  “It’s no harm if I look,” Gareth said. “Who am I going to tell?”

  “The Grey sisters,” I said pointedly.

  “Do you not trust me?” He began to sulk. You haven’t seen sulking until you’ve seen a vampire ghost do it with flare.

  I softened. “Of course I trust you. But the coven only just allowed me to participate and I don’t want to be the one that immediately breaks the circle of trust.”

  “Good point,” Laurel said, with a slightly too much enthusiasm.

  Gareth made a disappointed face. “Fine. I’ll go haunt the Horror aisle. I’m sure someone will appreciate my presence there.”

  “I’ll see you at home,” I said.

  I let him go, at least for now. Unfortunately, it was more important to keep my research a secret than to soothe Gareth’s hurt feelings. Once I knew more, I’d share with him. Until then, I wanted to keep what little information I had to myself.

  Thanks to Richard’s tip, the next day I headed over to Spellbound High School to talk to Sean, the pixie’s older brother. The bell rang to signal the end of the school day. As students streamed out the double doors, I stood on the sidewalk, marveling at the diversity. Wings, horns, tails, colorful skin—Spellbound was a true melting pot. Or a paranormal potpourri. I was never sure of the right analogy.