by Sam Cheever
Aaaannnnnddd he was quoting Shakespeare.
It was as if England was reaching out through one of his voids and sucking him back.
“Stay with us, professor,” I teased. “Tell us why this Alt-gasbag does us any good.”
He blinked. “Oh, yes. Well, it can carry us right to the castle like a taxi, can’t it?”
“I don’t know. Can it?” Sebille asked.
“It can.” With the affirmation, Archie seemed resolved. “I can do this. It should be just like driving any void.”
I hated to pop his proverbial confidence bubble, but… “I seem to remember, when we were in the age of dinosaurs, that ‘driving’ the voids home was going to take years or more.”
“Well, yes, Naida,” he said, clearly offended. “But that was through thousands of years. This is a simple spatial shift. And the bubble should be somewhere in the forest already.”
“Piece of cake then,” I said.
Sebille rolled her eyes.
Grym’s phone rang. “I need to get this,” he told us after glancing at the ID. He wandered away from us talking on his cell.
“Okay,” I said. “We just need to go to the forest, find this gas bubble, and ride it to the castle?”
“Praying it doesn’t pop,” Sebille added with a grimace.
Archie bobbed his head back and forth. “Yes, and no. That’s far too simplistic a portrayal of what needs to happen.”
“Then ’splain it to us,” I said. “I have a feeling we’re running out of time.”
For the first time since I’d known him, my uncle seemed short on words. His lips moved a few times and then slammed together, his gaze lowering to the small circle on the map.
“Spill it, Pudsy,” Sebille demanded.
Archie shook his head. “I need to speak with Professor Osvald.”
Sebille and I shared a surprised look. Neither of us had apparently seen that one coming. “The book head?” Sebille asked. “Why?”
Archie tipped his head. “Did Osvald ever explain to you how he got locked inside his books?”
“Mostly he just ducks and runs when he sees us,” Sebille said.
I winced. She wasn’t wrong. “He might have mentioned a curse or something.”
“Osvald was ‘riding’ Alt-Mag as you so crudely put it…”
“Hey. Don’t go full British snotty on me, Pudsy. That wasn’t crude. It was succinct.”
He flapped a pale hand. “Whatever. The last time the anomaly showed up, a sorcerer dared Osvald to try to control it. He managed it quite well for a while, steering it from London to Dublin, Ireland without much trouble at all.”
“But,” I urged, watching Grym head back our way.
“But, the Universe with its infinitely restless nature decided to twist just as he was crossing Dublin Bay. The bubble went off level, started spinning out of control, and Osvald was magically incised.”
My brows lifted into my hairline. “Incised?”
“Luckily…or unluckily for him depending on your viewpoint…he was able to fling his essence into the book he was using to drive the anomaly and preserve himself in the way you see today. It was quite brilliant, actually. Osvald has always been magically talented. He was intricately connected to his books…supernormally speaking. The result was that he succeeded in spreading his essence across every volume he’d ever written.” Archie frowned thoughtfully for a moment as if trying to understand the magic involved in making that happen. Finally, he shook his head to dismiss his thoughts. “The connection was weak at best, but Osvald knew a sorcerer with talents in the area of anchoring. He underwent a magical procedure that anchored him firmly to the volumes. Quite the feat, actually. Though Osvald would later come to think of it as more of a curse than a blessing.”
I frowned. “This happened a Millennia ago?” I was pretty sure I remembered seeing a picture of the professor in fairly modern clothes in one of his books.
“Actually, it was only about fifty years ago.”
“But you said these bubbles only come around once in a Millennia,” I argued.
“Yes, yes, generally. The law of averages puts them into existence about every thousand years. But once in a while one appears outside of that timeframe. It’s been hypothesized that those interim anomalies are less stable. Which might explain why Osvald ended up implanted inside his books.”
“We have a problem,” Grym said as he joined us.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, noting the tightness around his eyes and lips.
“Those cherub things are back. They’re attacking all around the city, and my people are having trouble containing them.” He sighed. “I have to go. Will you wait until I get back before going into the forest?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think we can. The only way to stop these cherub things is to get to Desiree.” Which was an overly optimistic statement since our success hinged on her being cooperative. Even if she was willing, there was no guarantee she’d be any more helpful than Lovelace had been. And he’d been motivated.
Grym held my gaze for a long moment and then sighed. He tapped a finger gently against my chin. “Take care of yourself. Okay?”
“I’m the queen of taking care of myself,” I told him.
Sebille snorted.
I glared at her.
Grym looked at Archie. “Who else can you take?”
“I’ve got someone in mind. Don’t worry. Go do what you need to do.”
Grym nodded and left.
Watching him go, I remembered their visit to the ogres. We’d been so distracted by the location of the demon princess, we hadn’t talked about it. “How’d it go with the ogres?” I asked my uncle. “Did Sebille and I sign away our firstborn children or anything?”
She snorted out a laugh. “As if. I’m never having kids. I have my hands full with the hobgoblin, the frog, and the cat.”
“Worse,” Archie said. “But let’s not focus on that right now. We have bigger fish to fry.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, but the dividing door slammed open before I could ask him what he meant. Hobs flashed across the room. The diaper from earlier was gone. In its place was an adorable tuxedo, complete with a polka-dotted bow tie and a matching cummerbund. He’d even combed the light brown thatch of hair between his big ears to one side. The hair made him look like a cute little nerd. He fixed his enormous, light blue eyes on me. “Have you seen her, Miss?”
“Seen who?” I asked, frowning.
“My date, Miss. She should be here.” He cast his gaze around the room. “Where are the cookies?” He stomped an oversized bare foot on the carpet, making the long hairs that decorated his big toe dance. “We need sweets, Miss!”
I held up a hand. I’d never seen him so agitated. “Okay, okay. I might have something upstairs. Don’t get your bowtie in a twist.”
Hobs tucked in his chin and tried to see his bow tie. “It’s twisted?” With a wail, he spun around and retreated back through the dividing door. Presumably to fix his tie.
I cast Sebille a glare.
She threw up her hands. “It’s not me. That hysteria is all his.”
“This stupid holiday is infecting everyone. Is he even old enough to date?” I asked the others.
“He is,” Archie said, typing with his thumbs on his phone. “In hobgoblin years, he’s in his late teens. But there aren’t many hobgoblins around. I’d be surprised if he’d found a girl hobby his own age.”
I shrugged it off. As Archie said, I had bigger fish to fry. But I made a mental note to go get the stash of heart cookies out of my room before we left for the forest. If Hobs was in love, I certainly didn’t want to get in his way.
Lea opened the front door and stuck her head inside. “Hey, Naida. Did you know you had a line of customers out here?”
“I do?” I had a moment of sheer panic. I’d had the store closed all day, and I just realized I’d totally forgotten about the Hearts of Bomb signing. I turned a panicked look on my assistant. “Se
bille?”
She accurately read the rattled look in my expression. “I’ve got this.” Hurrying to the tea area, she opened the closet beside the counter and pulled out something that was pink and red and covered in stupid frilly hearts. She handed it to Archie. “Here, go into the bathroom and put this on.”
I watched in awe as Archie did as he was told. Sebille jerked her chin toward the sales counter. “Grab him some pens and a bunch of those Hearts of Bomb bookmarks we had printed.”
I did as I was told too. It was better than standing helpless and alarmed as my business took a nosedive before my very eyes.
By the time I’d gathered up the stuff she’d told me to get, Sebille was filling the empty cookie tray with a fresh display of heart cookies. Lea wandered over and took one. “Can I have some of this punch?”
“Punch?” I asked, my eyes bulging.
“Sure,” Sebille said. “Would you pour for the customers too?”
“You got it,” Lea said.
“Where’d you get all this?” I asked, flabbergasted.
“My secret,” Sebille said. She lowered her head to hide her grin, but I spotted it. She and I were going to have a talk later.
Archie emerged from the bathroom in the Valentine’s Day decorated robes and headed toward the table where he’d be signing books. I dropped the pens and bookmarks on the table.
The dividing door slammed open again, and I expected Hobs to barge back in. It wasn’t him. My cat sauntered into the store, wearing a tiny pink vest covered in hearts and roses. He was also wearing a red bow tie.
Movement at the edge of my vision had me turning in time to see Sebille jerking the blanket off the top of Mr. Slimy’s terrarium. She reached down behind the table holding his glassy home and grabbed a large piece of white cardboard with the words, “Kiss a Frog. Meet Your Prince.” written in tidy block letters.
I glanced in horror at the pudgy green squish. He was staring at me with his bulgy black eyes, his throat working in agitation. Slimy had the kissy lips again.
I’m going to give her so many warts when this is over! sayeth the frog.
I gasped. “Sebille!”
She blew me off with a raspberry and went back to the tea counter, where she grabbed a large bag of chalky candy hearts that said stupid things on them like, “Be my Valentine”. Or, “Pucker up, there’s a frog in your near future”. Okay, maybe that last one was mine, but you get the idea.
“Has the world gone totally mad?” I asked no one in particular.
“Meow!” Wicked said before brushing up against my calf.
Sebille hurried to the front door and turned to me. “Ready?”
I wanted to scream No! and stamp my feet. But I sighed. “Where do you want me?” And more importantly, when had I completely lost control?
“Behind the counter. We’re gonna sell some books!”
15
Ding Dong, the Witch is Decidedly Less Dead Than We’d Hoped
Osvald’s ruddy face was angry, the thick veins on his neck bulging with pique. “Have you lost your mind, man?”
Archie looked completely at ease in the old wooden chair at Shakespeare’s desk. His smile was slightly condescending, which I didn’t think was going to go over well with the irate…er…head. “Don’t throw a wobbly, Morty…”
I snorted. Morty.
“We need your expertise,” Archie told him with a frown. “You’re the only person who’s survived navigating one of these things. Your practical knowledge is invaluable.”
A dark, bushy brow lowered over a menacing black eye. “Yes, and it worked out so well for me, didn’t it?”
Archie shrugged as if the loss of a body was a trivial issue. “You had a spot of bad luck.”
Osvald’s dark, scraggly head tipped backward on a bark of laughter. “Yes. You could call it that.”
Archie’s manner softened. He leaned forward. “Look, Morty, this is important. I wouldn’t ask you if it weren’t.”
Archie’s change in manner seemed to reach Osvald where his previous arrogance hadn’t. “How far would we need to travel?”
Archie grinned, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “A mere mile or two. Hardly long enough to matter.”
When Osvald didn’t immediately refuse, Archie’s face lit with excitement. “Brilliant! This will be one for the books.” Judging by his wide grin, I was starting to worry he was more interested in piloting an anomaly through The Enchanted Forest for the scientific chops it would give him, rather than to help me.
But, if it got us out of dealing with those wraiths, I was all for it. I’d just try not to focus on the whole, losing my body thing.
Ogre boogers!
The bell on the front door jangled, and I jumped. Sebille had already locked up and set the ward. I touched Archie on the shoulder and mouthed, “I’m going to see who’s here.”
He nodded and turned back to Osvald. The two of them were lost in plotting our adventure through The Enchanted Forest.
I opened the dividing door and stepped through, looking at the door. If I squinted, I could still see the glow of the special ward we used to keep magical trouble out. The regular deadbolt was still in place too.
Despite the jangle, the door didn’t appear to have been opened.
Hm.
The store was empty and quiet.
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and swung around.
There was nothing there.
Ice formed on my spine as I pulled Keeper magic into my hands. It flared silver and bright, spitting into the silence of the store. My magic might be defensively limited beyond Croakies’ walls, but it was a force to be reckoned with inside them. “Whoever’s here, show yourself.”
The atmosphere thickened and swirled in creams and browns near the door and something twirled away, leaving a high-pitched giggle in its wake.
I frowned. “I said, show yourself!” Putting magic into my voice to lock the intruder into place with my command, I sent a cloud of silver energy rolling through the area where I’d seen the movement. The illuminating energy caught on something, or someone, who stood about two-feet-tall and had shiny brown hair. The creature blinking down at me from the top of one of the bookshelves had enormous dark eyes. It grinned widely before spreading its dainty hands on the air and making rolling motions, like waves on an ocean. Several books on the shelves below straightened up and one that had been left out of its slot slipped back with a hearty snick.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The creature giggled again, its long, brown hair swaying as it threw its arms into the air and, with a saucy wink, disappeared on a soft gasp of displaced air.
“What in the world?”
I turned and looked at the door. Had whatever…whoever that was, just broken through my ward again? I rubbed the gooseflesh on my arms as dread slipped through me. I’d enjoyed the feeling of safety my security measures had given me. But, suddenly that feeling of safety was gone.
The dividing door opened behind me. I turned to look at Sebille. She was dressed for bed in a red onesie with white horizontal stripes. Her fire-engine red hair was pulled back from her face, no doubt woven into a single thick braid that trailed down her back. Her expression was filled with concern.
Adrenaline pumped instantly through my veins. “What’s wrong?”
She sighed. “Don’t go all drama llama on me. I just thought you should know.”
“Know what?” I asked, closing the distance between us.
“It’s Hobs.” Despite her impatience with my reaction, I couldn’t miss the lines between her red brows that highlighted her own worry.
I grabbed her hand. “Is he hurt? Sick?” My chest tightened. I tried to remember the last time I’d seen him. It had been a couple of hours. Just before the book signing. “Where is he?”
“He’s upstairs. Sitting on your couch.” The worry lines deepened. “He doesn’t look good, Naida. I…” She clamped her lips closed and frowned.
“What?” I asked, clutching her bony arm with both hands. “Tell me, Sebille. You’re scaring me.”
“I think he took some of the love serum.”
Oh, goddess, no!
I dodged past the sprite and flew up the stairs, taking them two at a time. My toe caught on the last step and I started to fall, only managing to stay on my feet by fast-stepping and windmilling my arms.
I slapped a hand against the unlatched door and all but fell over the wooden threshold, stumbling awkwardly through the door.
I caught myself on the back of my couch and stopped, panting like a puppy.
I really needed to get in better shape.
Hobs was sitting in the middle of my couch, his short legs sticking straight out from the cushion and his spidery fingers wrapped around a heart-shaped box of candy in his lap. His head drooped on his tiny chest, his pale blue eyes closed.
He was still wearing the tuxedo from that morning and looked adorable.
I hurried around the couch. “Hey, buddy. What’s going on? Who’s the present for?”
He didn’t respond.
“He won’t talk. I’ve been trying for a while.” Sebille was leaning against the doorframe, her bony arms crossed over her flat chest. From her negligent posture, someone who didn’t know her might think she was bored. But, I knew better. I saw the worry darkening her green eyes. They didn’t even have their usual sheen that made them seem to glow.
I sat down next to Hobs, lowering my head to look into his face. “What’s wrong, Hobs? Do you feel sick?”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t even blink. I wasn’t sure he could even hear me. I glanced at Sebille. “This is bad.”
She nodded, her lips tightened. “We need to get Doctor Whom.”
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around one of Hobs’ little hands. They felt like ice. “What makes you think he took some of that serum?” I asked, giving his hands a squeeze.
She shrugged. “I told you this morning that drama was his.” She motioned to his clothing. “That getup was his idea. I helped him find it, but it was all him.”
I gave her a disbelieving look.
