by Amy Boyles
“She can sleep with me,” Amelia said.
“I’ll get her some food from the shop tomorrow. Crickets and whatever else I think she might like.”
Both of us stared at Betty. Amelia spoke first. “Think we’ll be able to break the spell?”
I sucked on my lips. “I hope so. For all of Magnolia Cove’s sake, I hope so.”
I awoke the next morning to a pair of yellow eyes staring at me. “Ah!”
I bolted up and nearly fell off the bed. Somehow Betty the Toad stay glued to my sheets. When my heart calmed, I picked her up and laid her on the edge of the bed.
“Okay, Betty, I get it. You need to be changed back to normal. Let’s go downstairs and see what’s going on.”
I tugged on a pair of house slippers, scooped up Betty and was followed by my Dr. Doolittle gang of Hugo and Mattie. Cordelia and Amelia were already downstairs eating a breakfast of cold cereal and fruit.
“I hope she didn’t scare you,” Amelia said. “When I saw her climbing the stairs, I figured she was heading for your room.”
I pushed away a rogue strand of hair sticking in front of my vision. “And you didn’t bother to stop her.”
Amelia smiled brightly. “I thought you liked surprises.”
“Ha-ha. Yes, you know I love waking up to a toad on my chest.”
“Me too,” Cordelia said. “But anyway, what’s the word on changing her back?”
“I’m going to head over to Axel’s in a little bit and see what he’s discovered. Hopefully something because Shelly’s potion is gone and Bo doesn’t know the recipe.”
“But Betty should.” Cordelia spooned cereal into her mouth. “That was part of the deal, right? Shelly showed Betty the potion, and Betty became her guinea pig.” Her gaze flashed to Betty. “No offense.”
Obviously Betty couldn’t answer.
“I can’t hear Betty.” I exhaled a deep breath and steeled myself for their responses.
Cordelia grimaced. “That is bad.”
“Definitely not good,” Amelia said.
I grimaced. “I know. Oh, before I forget, Axel said a poppet was used to kill Shelly.”
Amelia and Cordelia exchanged glances.
“What?”
“Did you say poppet?” Cordelia said.
“Yes. Why? I mean, I understand that sort of magic isn’t worked very often, but that’s what Axel believed it was.”
“It’s not worked very often,” Amelia explained, “because in most towns it’s illegal.”
A wave of realization punched me in the gut. “Of course it is. Why would anyone allow the use of poppets? You could easily kill people.”
“Exactly,” Cordelia said. “So it’s illegal.” She cocked a brow. “Is Axel sure?”
I nodded. “I think so. We both smelled some sort of sulfur weird scent. It took him a few minutes to place it, but once he did, it was a poppet, he said. And didn’t you see what happened to Shelly? It looked like a random heart attack and then some magical backfiring or something, and the next thing you know she’s dead and the potion is stolen. So anyway, you know of anyone who might or might not have any experience with poppets?”
My cousins exchanged a long glance, and then Cordelia turned to me. “I think we do.”
I reached Familiar Place and made my way over to the aquarium where I kept the crickets. I cringed as I watched the little black insects hop and climb over one another.
These were food for other familiars. Betty had to eat. She couldn’t live off biscuits and gravy in the state she was in. But instead of scooping out a handful of crickets, I decided the best approach would be quite the opposite.
I opened the lid and let Betty drop in. That way, she could eat till her heart’s content.
Which, from the looks of her flying tongue, it appeared she was going to do.
I turned around and shrieked. Saltz Swift had slithered into my shop without me hearing even the tiniest rustle of his clothing.
“Good morning, Familiar Mistress.”
Um. Okay. I wasn’t exactly into titles, but whatever. I also wasn’t into creepy men appearing in my shop as if they’d popped out of cloud of smoke.
“I’m not so sure it’s a good morning, Master Swift.”
He strode over to a chair and sat with a flourish. “Nonsense. Every morning I’m alive is a blessing, and thus a good morning.”
I folded my arms and crossed to him. “It’s not a good morning for Shelly Seay or my grandmother.”
“So it isn’t.” His face pinched tightly. “But nevertheless, it is still glorious and the new witching year is upon us.”
“So it is.” I mean, what else was I supposed to say? Really?
“Have you considered my offer?”
“Your offer?”
“The one to come to the school and teach a lecture or two on familiars.”
I almost slapped my forehead. “Yes! That offer. Of course. Actually, I haven’t had a chance to consider it given that my grandmother’s a toad and Shelly Seay was killed”—I studied him closely—“most likely by a poppet.”
Saltz coughed so hard he nearly toppled from the chair. “A poppet! Are you out of your mind?”
“I am not out of my mind. There were traces of evidence that a poppet was used.”
He scowled. “And what sort of evidence do you have?”
Well none. But I wasn’t going to say that. Seemed Saltz got pretty riled at my mention of a poppet. Interesting.
“There’s expert opinion—not me, I’m not an expert. But someone else.”
He rubbed his chin. “Hmm. So someone else suggests dark magic was used to kill a witch, and you automatically believe them?”
I narrowed my gaze. “It is a very reliable source.”
“Ah, I see. A very reliable source.” Sounded like he didn’t believe me. “My dear, you are new to witchcraft, so I will give you a few tips.”
“Please do.” I didn’t want tips at all.
“The first is that poppets are illegal in most cities.”
“I’ve heard.”
He poked the air. “The second is that not many witches know how to use poppets. Not many at all. If someone did, you would have to question where they might have learned such dark and devious craft.”
“I heard you’ve got some old witchcraft tomes.”
He coughed and sputtered. Saltz plucked a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his mouth. “So I do. So do most witches. And it’s true I work at a school with a library that may have books on the subject. But I can assure you the magic we teach at the Southern School is not geared toward creating evil witches. That’s not what we do. We train witches for the world they will work and live in.”
He plucked his collar to standing. “But anyway, if you’re so keen on following the poppet theory, there are books at the library.”
He rose with the same sort of flourish that he had sat with. “I’m sure if you wanted to know more on the subject, Keating’s Book of Spells would be a good place to start. Lots of old potions and enchantments in there.”
I made a mental note of the title. “And this one is at the library?”
Saltz nodded. “It is. You can check out the school. See the place where you’ll be lecturing next semester.” He smiled smugly. “We’d love to have you, Pepper Dunn.” His gaze bounced around the shop. “Your…expertise in this area will be welcome.” He paused and smiled. “At least by me.”
With that, he left. I mumbled his last words. “At least by me. What in the world does that mean?”
I remembered that I’d stuck Betty in a tank to eat crickets to her heart’s content. I glanced at the aquarium and noticed her bulging sides. She definitely looked plumper than when I’d dropped her in.
I pulled her out and settled her on the desk. “You look fat and happy, if not amphibious.”
She blinked her yellow eyes.
“Sorry. Come on. Let’s see if Axel’s found anything about the spell. Maybe he’s discovered a
way to change you back.”
I put her in a box and headed out the door. Before I locked up, I muttered, “Because I really don’t want to go to that school.”
Saltz insinuating that I wouldn’t be welcome by anyone but him didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t know what I was worried about. It wasn’t like I had to give a lecture.
But there was something in the potion master’s eyes that said otherwise. It suggested I didn’t have a choice. One way or another Saltz would get me into that school to teach.
But what would I find once I arrived? The thought was enough to pretzel my stomach in knots.
“Come on, Betty.” It was best to distract myself. “Let’s go see what Axel discovered.”
EIGHT
“I haven’t been able to find a good spell to transform Betty back.”
I sat in Axel’s kitchen. Betty sat in her box, blinking at us.
“When you say good spell, does that mean you’ve found bad spells?”
A smile tugged on his luscious lips. Kissable lips. Stop it, Pepper. I couldn’t sit here and think about kissing Axel when Betty was in trouble.
I had to focus.
He wagged a finger. “You’re smart. Yes. I’ve found plenty of dark spells that require someone to shed blood in order to return Betty to her original form.”
I squinted. “When you say shed blood, do you mean just a little?”
Let’s face it—if a spell only called for a thimbleful of the stuff, I could do that. I could donate a little plasma for a good cause. Heck, I’d done it when I was a normal person and not a witch. I’d given to the bloodmobile on more than one occasion.
I could do it again. After all, donating blood saved lives.
Axel shook his head. Dark hair brushed his shoulders. “It’s not the amount that matters, it’s the debt you incur by working the magic.”
“Debt? To who? Like the grim reaper? To Betty? I don’t like the sound of that word—debt.”
Nope. It did not taste good at all.
“It’s a debt to dark forces. When you use blood sacrifice, dark forces of magic, evil forces help with the spell. The wielder, often a sorcerer, then owes a debt to dark spirits—demonic in some cases. That’s not the sort of magic we want to get involved in.”
“No, it isn’t.”
We stood in silence, studying one another.
“If only there was a way to reach Betty.” I stroked her head. “If she could communicate with us, then she could tell us the spell.”
“But she isn’t.”
“She can’t, I don’t think.” I chewed the inside of my lip. Was there a way to reach her?
I snapped my fingers. “Axel, the animal communication bands I gave you for Christmas. I have a pair, too. Do you think I could secure them to Betty and then I could hear her? Connect with her?”
For Christmas I had given Axel a pair of cuffs that could help us communicate when he was a werewolf. Hopefully that simple line of communication would be strong enough that Axel could fight the beast that dwelled within him and remain himself even when he was trapped in the creature’s body.
He scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “Those cuffs are to bind the two people when they’re human so that when one becomes an animal, they can hear each other. What I’m afraid of is that we can’t hear Betty because she’s completely animal.”
A record scratched in my head. “Wait. What? You think Betty’s gone completely animal?”
“You can’t hear her, Pepper,” he said gently.
I pointed to the box. “It’s not as if she’s trying to escape. So there must be some of Betty in there.” I stared at the toad. “Even if we can’t talk to her.”
Axel opened the fridge and pulled out a gallon of sweet tea. He poured a glass and slid it over. Then he nudged a sugar bowl toward me. I uncapped the porcelain lid and found a rainbow of jellybeans.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
I plopped a few in the glass and waited for them to dissolve before drinking.
Axel pulled himself onto the counter and sat. “The thing about those cuffs is the connection works when both parties can already hear each other. When one person then shifts into an animal, the connection strengthens.”
I thought about my wish from the hat being granted. I would be able to communicate with Axel when he was a werewolf. But it was more than that—my wish had been that Axel could be tamed. It was the one thing I wanted—for him not to be enslaved by the beast, but to own it.
Perhaps that was the curse of the werewolf and couldn’t be broken.
No. I didn’t believe that. Not for one minute. Axel could own himself. That’s what the wish had meant when it was granted. That he would retain his humanness.
Because right now when he turned, he was anything but human.
I shivered.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I sipped my tea. “Mmm. Delicious. But anyway, are you saying I couldn’t band Betty and talk to her?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll have to research it.”
I hitched a brow.
“I’m in territory I don’t understand here. There are other wizards I can consult, but most of them have the exact same resources I do. Besides, while I was gone I did more training.”
“You did? You haven’t mentioned it.”
“It was very personal.”
I made a gesture that I didn’t want to get in his personal business. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“It’s okay. I went looking for myself and found it.”
“Sounds like a spiritual quest.”
“It was.” Long pause while I held my breath. “I met a shaman.”
“Whoa. A shaman? Like where you sat in a sweat lodge and smoked from a pipe sort of shaman?”
He smiled shyly. “Sort of like that, yes. Anyway, my magic deepened and I learned some things.”
I cocked a brow. “Sounds very mysterious.”
“If you only knew.” He slid from the counter and rested beside me at the bar. Axel threaded his fingers through my hair. “Everything I learned was useful and good. Obviously.” He took my hand and kissed the inside of my palm before entwining his fingers in mine.
“Yes,” I said breathlessly. Axel closed in until he was within kissing distance. “But we’re talking about Betty.”
His lips traced my jaw. “So we are. We can still talk like this.”
My groin stirred. “It’s best we don’t.”
Axel drew away, and my mouth immediately yearned for him. He was lifesaving air suddenly yanked from me. Being denied him was true suffering—at least for me, y’all.
The toad made a weird throaty sound. My gaze darted down. Seriously though, talking or no, I couldn’t make out with Axel in front of Betty.
That was gross.
I pushed a strand of crimson hair from my face. “So you’ll research the bands?”
He nodded. “I will.”
I snapped my fingers. “All that talk of research made me forget.”
“What’s that?”
“Saltz Swift came by the store when I was feeding Betty.”
“You’ve got my attention.”
I leaned toward Axel, who tucked a tendril of hair behind my ear. “Well, even Amelia and Cordelia said if anyone knew about poppets, it would be him. So I asked him.”
“Of course you did. And what did the potion master say?”
“He was insulted.”
“As he would be. That guy thinks highly of himself.”
I laughed. “So he does. You think highly of yourself.”
Axel chuckled. A spark flared in his eyes. “Not that highly.”
“Anyway, he seemed pretty upset about the whole poppet thing, but he said if there was one book that covered poppets, it was Keating’s Book of Spells.”
Axel threw back his head. “Ah, yes. It’s an old tome. It’s not taught in schools because it’s pretty racy.”
“Racy? Like are
there naked pictures inside?”
He laughed. “Not that kind of racy. It’s got old spells, some of which caused harm to the caster. They backfired.”
“Ew. Not good.”
“No, but if you want to learn some arcane stuff, it’s in Keating. Maybe we should take a look at it.”
“Take a look?”
Axel’s gaze darkened. “Yep. Let’s see who checked it out last.”
“How do we get to the school?”
Axel and I sat in his old Land Rover on the other side of Magnolia Cove. The one entrance I’d ever used in town was tree-lined and gorgeous. Right now I was staring at a train tunnel. It looked abandoned with leaves piled up at the entrance.
“We drive through there.”
My expression twisted to disbelief. “You’re kidding? That place looks like scary monsters are inside.”
He laughed. “The Southern School of Magic is in its own place, to keep the kids safe from outsiders. We drive through the tunnel and we’ve arrived.”
“Are you sure? Am I going to need a tetanus shot to go through?”
“Trust me and hold on.”
Axel headed into the tunnel. It was black as tar. The vehicle lurched as we hit what felt like giant potholes.
“Why are there potholes in here?”
“They’re magical. Like stepping stones. When we exit, we’ll be in another place. It’s not Magnolia Cove anymore.”
“Where is it?”
Light split the tunnel. I shielded my eyes. When I opened them, we were outside the blackness. I glanced right and left and noticed two tunnels on both sides of us.
Axel noticed me looking. “Those are shortcuts from other magical towns. Magnolia Cove isn’t the only place that filters into here.”
I looked up and saw a giant brick plantation-style mansion on top of a lush green hill. A forest butted up against the back of the house. It reminded me of the Cobweb Forest.
“Looks like our forest,” I murmured.
“It is. The Cobweb Forest is a strange beast. The woods wind into many places.”
