by Zoe Arden
“I don’t know them all. There’s the Jester, the Magician, the Orphan...” He shrugged. “That’s all I can remember.”
“The Jester?” I asked, thinking of Paisley. Could that be it? The Jester archetype was considered a fool and a prankster. Was Paisley killed because she fit the right category?
“Thanks, William. You’ve been a lot of help.”
“If you see Mayor Singer before I do, tell him that I’m still holding those steak knives for him, would you?”
“Sure thing,” I shouted as I ran back to my car. If I hurried, I could make it to the Sweetland Library before they closed.
* * *
1 6
* * *
Detective Hudson had been surprised when I gave him Mayor Singer’s invitation to the New Year’s party, but not as surprised as my father and aunts had been.
“First, you invite him to sleep in our house, now you’re asking him to go to the mayor’s gala with us?” My father had shaken his head. “Have you lost your mind? I thought you hated him.”
My cheeks colored, and I turned my head so my father wouldn’t see.
“Hate is a rather strong word, don’t you think?” I had asked, then hurried upstairs before he could ask me any more questions.
When I finally made it downstairs, I was carrying my purse and a larger bag containing the book Damon had given me for Christmas and one from the library discussing archetypes. Aunt Eleanor had left an hour earlier with Sheriff Knoxx, so it was Trixie who looked me over now.
“Ava, don’t tell me you’re taking those books with you.”
“I am.”
“It’s a party!” she cried, her eyes bulging. Her blond hair had been pulled up into a French twist and then secured with bobby pins that shined like disco balls. Her dress was all shades of pink and yellow. She looked like a sunlit flower.
“I’m with your aunt,” my dad said, stepping into the room. “You need to relax a little.”
“How can I relax when Polly’s trying to kill me?”
“She hasn’t actually tried anything, yet,” my father said.
“And she won’t. Not with me there.” A man’s voice, deeper and more lyrical than my father’s, carried from the other side of the room.
I hadn’t even noticed Colt standing there until he turned to face me. My jaw dropped open. I willed it shut but it just hung there. I caught Trixie’s expression from the corner of my eye; it wasn’t far off from my own. Even my father seemed awed by the man standing before us.
Colt was wearing a navy blazer encrusted with gold cuff links shaped like a witch’s broom. They almost matched the witch’s broom necklace I wore that had belonged to my mother. A crisp white dress shirt lay open at the collar. He wore dark jeans that added a laid-back air to his otherwise sophisticated ensemble. It looked like he’d just stepped out of the pages of GQ.
“Hi,” I breathed.
“Hi.” His eyes took in everything about me. “You look wonderful.”
I was wearing a sparkling gold dress that touched the floor. A small slit ran up the side, exposing my calf, and I’d piled my hair into a loose mass of curls that draped over my head like a chandelier.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Colt replied. “Otherwise, I’d have had to set up even more cameras outside the party.”
I laughed, but he didn’t laugh with me. “Did you really set up cameras around The Golden Goose?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said and offered me his arm. I took it and followed him to his car.
We drove separate from my father and Trixie. Colt insisted on it in case we had to make a quick getaway. “When someone’s casting spells at you, there isn’t time to wait around for a set of car keys to materialize.”
By the time we got to the party, Colt had talked me into leaving my books in the car. I figured that if someone as stoic and by-the-book as he was thought I should loosen up, I had better do it.
When we got inside, I was glad I’d listened to him. The place was jumping. Mayor Singer was already drunk. He waved as we came in and called out from the dance floor, where he was twirling Tazzie so fast she looked like she was getting dizzy.
“Hello, Ava! Glad you could make it!”
I smiled at him and searched the room for Damon. He’d called to tell me he was coming. His mother would stay at his place and watch the ball drop on television. I was glad she wouldn’t be here. I didn’t need her spoiling the evening.
Couples spun around the room as a live band played old Sinatra songs. A giant ball—an exact replica of the one they had at Madison Square Garden—hovered over the dance floor. Grayson’s restaurant was almost unrecognizable. The tables and chairs had been stored away and long buffet tables had taken their place. The room was at least three times the size of its normal capacity. At least half of Heavenly Haven had shown up here. The other half were either on their way or sourpusses who refused to let go of the rivalry our towns shared.
After pouring through the book that Damon had given me at Christmas, I knew that if Sara Sweetland and Patrick Mistmoor were alive today, they would have thought the rivalry between our towns was stupid. The legend went that Patrick Mistmoor had killed Sara Sweetland in a fit of rage shortly after their wedding night, throwing her off the cliff at Whisper Crossing. A statue of an angel stood over her grave today. Patrick, overcome with guilt, flung himself off the same cliff days after his wife’s death.
I used to believe that legend when I first came to Mistmoor, but now, I wasn’t so sure. The second part of the legend was that Sara Sweetland’s family had been cursed when she stole Patrick from another witch. That didn’t sound like Sara, from what I knew about her, but the curse made sense. According to the book, Sara had a child before she died. Her own death had been a result of saving that child from the curse.
“Ava,” Colt said, startling me out of my trance. He was holding his hand out to me. “Would you care to—”
“Damon!” I exclaimed, my face lighting up. Damon had just come into the room. The suit he wore fit him like it had been tailored just for him, and his eyes shined at me from across the room. Colt’s hand dropped back to his side.
I crossed the room to him, watching as other girls walked past eyeing him like he was a bowl of frosting.
“Hi, I was afraid you’d changed your mind,” I said. I went to kiss him but he gently stopped me. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Is something wrong?” I asked. He seemed nervous.
Then I saw what was wrong. Damon’s mother stepped into the room. She was wearing a long black dress like she was attending a funeral.
“You brought your mother?” I asked, surprised. “I thought she was staying home.”
“She had a change of heart,” he said, grimacing.
“Oh, well... I’m sure Mayor Singer will be delighted to have another guest. I’d better get away from you before she goes nuts.” I started to move back toward Colt, who was watching me from the opposite side of the room. He looked upset.
“Wait. My mom has something she wants to tell you.”
Renee Tellinger made her way over to us. Her thin lips smiled as she nodded cordially to me.
“Ava, dear,” Renee said.
Ava, dear? Was she drunk?
“I wanted to tell you how dreadfully sorry I am about the other day.”
“Y-you are?”
“Of course. My son tells me he cares for you a great deal, so I’ve decided to keep an open mind regarding your relationship.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Damon was beaming at me as if this fixed everything. He either didn’t see or didn’t want to see the hateful look his mother was flashing at me.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said, taking Damon’s hand.
His mother’s right eye twitched but she said nothing. The band struck up a slow song, and Damon held me close as we rocked together. It was approaching midnight fast. The ceiling over
us glittered. I let myself relax in Damon’s arms. When the band struck up a fast tune, he spun me out, and we made our way around the dance floor.
I nearly smacked into Eleanor, who was dancing with Sheriff Knoxx. By now, word had spread about their engagement and people stopped to congratulate them. They couldn’t have looked happier. Trixie and Melbourne were struggling through a dance in the corner of the room. She was much better than he was, but they were both smiling as he did his best to keep up.
I shot Renee a glance and saw her wave off a wizard who had asked her to dance. There were a number of humans at the party, but I wasn’t sure she could tell them apart from the wizards. The humans weren’t supposed to know anything about the magical world, but those who lived here knew plenty. Like Damon. It was commonly accepted that if you lived on Heavenly Haven for any length of time, you would eventually find out the truth.
Since Margaret’s resignation of the head of the Witch’s Council, they had begun to lead a campaign to bring things more out into the open. The Council on Magic and Human Affairs had said they would consider the matter.
Margaret Binford stood near the punch bowl conversing with William Carney. He waved when he saw me, but his gaze stopped short. He began quickly walking toward Renee. I watched Damon’s face tighten.
“I’m sure he just wants to say hi,” I told him as William went up to her. “He probably knew her when she lived here before.”
“Sure,” Damon said, but his expression had soured.
William was talking to Renee, who was shaking her head. Damon danced us closer so we could hear what they were saying.
“I said no,” Renee snapped, pushing William’s hand away from her face.
“I’m just surprised to see you is all. I never thought you’d step foot on this island again.”
“Neither did I.”
“So, what are you doing here now, then?”
“Visiting my son.”
“How lovely!”
Damon slowed us down to a snail’s crawl. We weren’t dancing anymore so much as walking in slow motion. I wished he could forget about his mom for a minute and focus on us. It was almost midnight.
“What do you say we show these kids how it’s done?” William asked, extending his hand.
“I don’t care to dance,” Renee said.
Clearly, William was not getting the hint. By the wobble in his step, I thought whatever punch he’d gotten into had been spiked. He’d probably been the one to spike it.
“Come on.”
“No!” she snapped.
Damon let go of my arm and was on William in two seconds flat.
“Get away from my mother!” he cried, pushing William in the chest.
William stepped back, shocked.
“I only asked her to dance.”
“She’s not interested.”
“Fine,” William said, smoothing out his shirt. As drunk as he was, he didn’t want a fight. I sighed in relief as he turned to go.
“Damon, I want to leave,” Renee said.
“It’s almost midnight,” I told them. “William didn’t mean anything. He doesn’t know you’re... uncomfortable around wizards.”
“I’m not uncomfortable,” she said. “I just don’t like them.”
“So much for keeping an open mind.” I clamped my hand over my mouth when I realized I’d actually said that out loud.
“What did you say to me?” Renee demanded. She stepped toward me so that we were nose to nose. For a woman who was supposed to be afraid of witches, she sure didn’t act like it.
“Whoa, now,” Mayor Singer said, suddenly coming between us. Colt was right behind him. “Renee, I think you should get some air.”
“Me?!” she cried.
“All of you, just stay out of this,” Damon snapped. “You, too, Ava.” He grabbed hold of his mother and they left together. It was the second time in three days that Damon had jilted me for his mom. My eyes began to water.
“Do you want a drink?” Colt asked, following me.
“No. Yes.”
He returned a moment later with a glass of wine. I drank it greedily and felt it warm my insides. “Thanks.”
“Of course.”
I sat on a bench at the side of the room, feeling like an outcast. Everyone else was dancing. The clock was ticking down.
“I’m sorry your boyfriend upset you,” Colt said.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not so sure he’s my boyfriend anymore. Sometimes, I don’t even think he likes me.”
“Really?” Colt asked, a little too happily.
“I’m surprised you didn’t pounce on his mom when she got in my face like that.”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to. Besides, I knew you could handle her.” He smiled at me and it lit up his whole face. “Would you like to dance?”
I coughed on the last of my wine. “Dance? With you?”
His lips curved up that much more. “I don’t bite.”
“I-I don’t think so.”
“Come on,” he said. “It’s almost midnight. You can’t bring in the new year like this.”
“I guess...”
He held out his hand and it took me only a second to decide to take it. He clasped his fingers through mine and led me out to the dance floor. His arm slipped around my waist and we were off.
“You’re a great dancer,” I said.
“Surprised?”
“A little.”
The band slowed down and Mayor Singer jumped on stage, grabbing the microphone. “All right, everyone, it’s that time! Get ready.” He started the countdown. Everyone at the party chimed in with him.
“Ten, nine, eight... three, two, one!”
The lights went out, the ball dropped, and I hugged Colt. He kissed my cheek as streamers fell around us. I felt my face burn where his lips had landed. The lights from the disco ball threw an eerie glow around the room. Colt was looking at me. His eyes may not have been as blue as Damon’s, but they were more open.
He leaned in toward me. I leaned toward him. I could feel his breath on my face. We were inches apart. Just then, the lights came back on. Tazzie Singer let out a loud cry.
“He’s dead!” she yelled. “My husband is dead!”
* * *
1 7
* * *
“Don’t move!” Colt shouted to the crowd.
“Don’t move,” Sheriff Knoxx echoed.
Colt shot him an annoyed look.
They both jumped up on stage and stood, hands on hips, glaring at each other. The crowd was talking loudly and excitedly. They were torn between wanting to run and wanting to wait for details. Gossip was like currency in this town, and they all wanted their share of it.
Tazzie Singer let out an ear-piercing screech and fainted. Sheriff Knoxx caught her just before she hit the floor. Kayla ran up and cradled her mother’s head in her lap as the sheriff laid her gently on the floor. Kayla tried not to look at her father, who lay still at her feet.
“Oh,” Kayla cried when Colt accidently knocked against her father’s foot and it twitched toward her. He was lying face down and, much like Paisley, it seemed impossible to say how he’d died. There was no blood. No bruising. It looked as if he’d simply dropped dead out of thin air.
“Don’t look,” Sheriff Knoxx told her.
Sheriff Lincoln Maxwell had been dancing in the back with Felicity. He joined the others on stage and motioned to my dad and some local men to come and help carry Tazzie into the back, where she’d be more comfortable. Eleanor and Trixie went with her.
Felicity came up beside me. She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Is he really dead?” She brushed the red hair from her eyes, which were starting to water.
“I think so.”
Sweetland’s own Mayor Thomas was supposed to be at the party himself tonight. I scanned the room for him but couldn’t find him anywhere. It wasn’t exactly shocking. Mayor Thomas preferred small parties to large ones. He was single and liked to keep to himself
most of the time.
A few people finally started heading toward the door. A few more followed. Once the charge had begun, only the diehard gossip mongers stayed back. Everyone else began filing out.
“Hold it!” Colt yelled, amplifying his voice with a quick spell. The crowd marched on.
“Didn’t you hear him?” Sheriff Knoxx asked, amplifying his voice in much the same way. It sounded like they were talking through a bullhorn. “This is a crime scene. Nobody move!” He shot Colt an exasperated look. For once, they were acting like they were on the same side. I wondered how long it would last.
Lincoln stuck two fingers in his mouth and blew. A shrill whistle carried high and loud through the air, despite the talk. “No one move,” he yelled. Everyone stopped walking. Since so many of tonight’s guests were from Mistmoor, they took Lincoln’s commands more seriously. He stood tall and turned to Sheriff Knoxx and Colt. “There you go,” he said. “Just needed a little prompting from someone local.”
Sheriff Knoxx and Colt both bristled slightly but acknowledged that he’d succeeded in getting everyone to stay put. Sheriff Knoxx and Colt started talking at the same time.
“Now we need—”
“Now we want—”
They looked at each other irritably.
“We’re going to ask a few questions,” they said at the same time. Colt finally gave up and indicated to Sheriff Knoxx that he should go ahead.
“Did anyone see anything when the lights went out?” Sheriff Knoxx asked.
“The ball dropped,” someone yelled.
“Yes, we know that,” Sheriff Knoxx said. “I mean anything else? Like someone on stage with the mayor?”
“The band was on stage with him,” Felicity called.
Sheriff Knoxx sighed. “How about something relevant to the mayor’s death? Anyone see anything like that?”
