Wisteria Warned

by Angela Pepper

  His jaw actually dropped.

  I swatted his chest a second time. “Kidding. Wow. You should see your face.”

  He pulled his jaw up and clenched it. “I’d rather take my chances with whatever’s in the attic than continue this conversation.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said, then waved for him to proceed with the plan.

  He led the way up the stairs. We checked the second floor, finding only empty bedrooms. Then we proceeded up to the top floor. It was our third time visiting the attic. Third time’s the charm, I thought.

  In the attic, the strings of overhead lights were lit, illuminating the cramped space about as well as the last time we’d been there, the day before. The glare from my threat-detection spell was fading. The spell didn’t last forever, but it didn’t need to. I’d seen what I needed to see. We were walking right into what could very well be a trap.

  Two other people were in the attic: Temperance Krinkle, looking as she had the last time we’d seen her, dressed demurely in pastel slacks and a lightweight sweater, and Louis Williams, dressed in black once more. What were the so-called psychic and the father of the kidnap victim up to?

  Louis Williams had something in one hand. To my eyes, it was glowing brighter than everything else. Even though the detection spell was fading, I had no doubt the object in this hand was the source of the threat.

  The second brightest object in the attic was the old iron chair. The big model of the town had been pushed all the way to the side of the attic, and the iron chair was sitting in the center of the space.

  Beside me, there was a loud clatter. Bentley had kicked something by accident. The same toolbox he’d tripped over the day before. He’d kicked it hard enough to cause it to tumble outside of my sound-bubble spell. The toolbox tipped on its side, spewing a variety of tools: hammers, screwdrivers, wrenches, and a bolt cutter with long handles. Everything had made a loud clatter on the bare wood floor.

  I quickly assessed the tools for bludgeoning capacity. Any one of them would make an excellent weapon when wielded by a witch. The bolt cutters in particular caught my eye. They were glowing faintly from my threat-detection spell.

  I looked over at Bentley and noticed he was staring at the bolt cutters as well. Great minds think alike.

  We both looked up at the suspects.

  Krinkle and Williams were standing next to the iron chair, facing each other. They had been arguing in whispers, but once Bentley gave us away with his clumsiness, both had noticed they had company in the attic. They stopped talking and turned to stare at us.

  I canceled our sound bubble.

  Bentley didn’t speak, so I took the lead.

  “Mrs. Krinkle, we knocked on the front door,” I said, still keeping my voice sweet. “I guess you couldn’t hear the knocking all the way up here.”

  “Hello, dear,” Krinkle said in her charming English accent.

  Williams did a double-take as he looked at me. “Zoey? Wait.” He pointed a finger at me. “You were here on Saturday, weren’t you? You’re not Zoey, but you look just like her.” He explained to Krinkle, “She looks just like the new girl we hired at the museum. The little redhead who was watching me like a hawk all day.” He balled his hand into a fist around the item he held. “I barely made it out of there with this amulet you wanted.”

  Bentley spoke next, in a casual, conversational tone. “Amulet? What’s this about an amulet?” He walked toward the pair at a slow, non-threatening speed. He stopped a few paces back from the duo.

  “It’s nothing,” Williams said. He jerked his hand behind his back, hiding the object.

  “Then let me see it,” Bentley said in a very reasonable tone.

  “Don’t give it to the cop,” Krinkle said. There was a grit to her English accent, making it less charming. “It’s none of his business. He had his chance to help your daughter, but now it’s up to us, Louis.”

  The man in black puffed up his chest. “This is a private matter,” he said to the detective. “And you don’t have permission to be here.”

  Bentley turned to give me a look. I took it as permission to go ahead with as much magic as I wanted.

  As much as I wanted to blast lightning balls first and ask questions later, I started with something simple. I twirled the Witch Tongue within my mouth, and cast a perfect rendition of the bluffing spell.

  “You want to tell us what the amulet is for,” I said to Williams. “We’re all friends here. We’re here to help.”

  Williams’ head dropped forward, as though he was falling asleep, then jerked upright. His expression was peaceful. “You’re friends,” he said smoothly. “You’re here to help.”

  Krinkle gave him a stunned look, and then narrowed her wrinkly eyes at me. She wasn’t under the bluffing spell. What had I done wrong? My casting syntax had been perfect. Did she have powers that protected her?

  “That’s right,” Bentley said to Williams, smoothly and reasonably. “We’re here to help. Why don’t you explain the plan to me, so my partner and I can assist? We all want to get your daughter back safely.”

  Williams smiled blankly and began talking. “My friend Temperance is going to use this ancient amulet to transport herself to where my daughter is being held captive.” He brought out the hand from behind his back and opened his fist, showing us the object. It was, as he’d stated, an amulet. It had an enormous, gleaming gemstone that glinted under the lights.

  “That’s quite the plan,” Bentley said.

  Williams continued. “And if, for some reason, she can’t free Veronica on her own, she’ll just come back here and give us the location.” He swayed from side to side, thoroughly under my spell. “I’m very lucky my friend Temperance comes from a long line of powerful magicians. She’s the only one who can get my daughter back to her family.”

  “Magicians?” Bentley looked at me. “She says she’s a magician,” he said.

  “That’s not even a thing,” I said. “Mrs. Krinkle, magicians do tricks for entertainment. They don’t do magic.”

  “That’s what they want you to think,” Krinkle said. “But I’ve seen things with my own eyes. Things that aren’t tricks. Real magic. My cousin has been helping me discover our family powers.”

  I looked from her to Louis. “Mr. Williams is your cousin?”

  She let out a polite laugh. “Of course not. I mean my cousin, Cole Dexter. He’s the one I’ve been corresponding with on my laptop.”

  “Cole Dexter,” I said. The name did not sit well on my lips. “Cole Dexter,” I repeated. “Cole Dexter.” The third time I said the name, I heard it change.

  Codex.

  Cole Dexter was connected to Codex. Or he was Codex. Or someone wanted me to think he was. How deep did this thing go? How many layers to this onion of weirdness?

  “Mrs. Krinkle, have you met this cousin in real life?”

  She glanced at Williams, who shrugged, then she looked at me again. “That’s none of your business.” There was a tremble of uncertainty to her voice.

  “You haven’t met him,” I said. “Mrs. Krinkle, I’m sorry to have to break this to you, but your cousin isn’t real. He’s made up. You’re being used.” I pointed to the amulet in Williams’ hand. “How much is that amulet worth?”

  “Over a million dollars,” Williams said.

  “Oh, Louis. Stop talking,” Krinkle said to Williams. To me, she said, “You’re being so awful, you awful, terrible woman.”

  I took it in stride. I’d been called worse. “That doesn’t change the fact you’re being catfished. You do know that that means, don’t you?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Bentley explained, “Catfishing is when someone uses a fake identity on the internet to trick someone.”

  Krinkle lifted her downy, white-haired chin and said, “My dear cousin is not one of those catfish people. He hasn’t asked me for a single cent. All he wants is for me to embrace my powers as a magician, so we can travel the world together.” She got a wistful l
ook. “We’re going to start with Egypt.”

  Bentley crossed his arms and said to Krinkle, “You think you’re some kind of magician? Prove it.”

  “Yeah,” I chimed in. “Prove it. If you’re a magician, with real powers, I’d like to see that. I’d pay good money to see that!”

  Krinkle shook her head slowly. “You won’t be laughing after you see what I can do.”

  “Prove it,” Bentley said again, this time adding a mocking laugh that almost made me zap him with a spell, and the mocking wasn’t even directed at me.

  Chapter 29

  “I will prove it,” Temperance said, and she grabbed the necklace from her friend’s hand. She slipped the chain over her head, centered the amulet on her chest, and climbed into the iron chair. “I’ll show everyone,” she said.

  As she turned her head to adjust her seat in the chair, I caught sight of her ears, and her hearing aids. Hearing aids! That explained why she’d been immune to my bluffing spell. The electronic devices must have altered the sound waves of my spell.

  Bentley held up a hand for her to wait. “Let me get things straight,” he said. “You’re a magician, and you’re going to get back Mr. Williams’ daughter by teleporting to wherever she is, using that amulet?”

  The white-haired woman, who looked very small on the big iron chair, nodded. “That’s right,” she said. “You must be a believer, Detective Bentley. A nonbeliever would never catch on so quickly.” She looked pointedly at Williams. “My friend Louis was a nonbeliever, until now.”

  Her friend gave us a dazed smile. “I’m a believer now. That’s why I borrowed the amulet and took it off the museum premises. I’m a believer, and I trust my friend Temperance. I should have believed her the first time she told me about her dreams.” His expression grew sad. “Poor Veronica. I shouldn’t have ignored Temperance’s warnings.”

  Bentley rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he paced the attic. It was a nice touch. A very Sherlock Holmes sort of move. If I’d been there on my own, I probably would have started blasting blue fireballs by now. That had become my modus operandi of late. Fireballs first, questions later.

  “Humor me one more moment,” Bentley said. “Mr. Williams, is it possible that your friend Temperance, the one who is currently in possession of an artifact worth in excess of a million dollars, isn’t a magician at all? Is it possible your daughter was, in fact, kidnapped solely for the purpose of a third party acquiring that amulet?”

  I added in, refreshing the bluffing spell as I did, “You’ll want to consider this possibility quite seriously, Mr. Williams.”

  Williams blinked and said, haltingly, “The amulet? Not a magician?” He gave Krinkle a puzzled look. “What they’re saying, is it possible?”

  She held out two open hands. “Louis, does it really matter who kidnapped whom? The amulet is back where it belongs, with a member of my family. Your daughter is safe, I promise. She’s probably quite hungry by now, and probably cold, considering where she is, but she’ll understand.” Krinkle caressed the amber jewel on her chest with one wrinkled hand. “Everyone will understand soon. And I promise to send all of you postcards.”

  Bentley and I exchanged a look.

  Krinkle was no psychic or magician. But she was behind the whole thing. Even if she’d been a pawn for Cole Dexter, or Codex, or some other party, she was guilty of participating in the kidnapping.

  Of the four people in the attic, three of us had been played for fools.

  There was a moaning sound. We jerked our heads to see what was happening now. Krinkle’s mouth was moving. She wasn’t moaning, exactly. She was reciting an incantation.

  It was in an ancient version of Witch Tongue, and I was only able to catch every third word, but the words I did catch were alarming.

  “Stop that right now,” I said to the old woman. “Don’t you dare cast that spell, Mrs. Krinkle. You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t understand what you’re saying. I can tell by your pronunciation.”

  She ignored me and kept uttering the ancient language in a low moan. She was mangling most of the words, but if I could understand the gist of it, there was a chance the magic would work.

  “You’re not a magician,” I said.

  She paused the incantation long enough to say, “Not yet.” She smiled and went back to muttering the ancient, powerful words. Her pronunciation was improving by the second. I caught more words, and the weight in my stomach got heavier. The spell was for resurrection.

  Bentley asked me in a whisper, “What’s going on?”

  “A resurrection spell,” I said to him quietly. Then, louder, I said, “It’s a resurrection spell, for summoning an ancient powerful being.”

  Krinkle continued, undeterred.

  “Temperance, that spell is not for teleportation,” I said. “Someone’s tricking you, just like you tricked your friend Louis, and the entire Wisteria Police Department.”

  She kept casting.

  I yelled, “You’re summoning an ancient demon, Mrs. Krinkle! You are offering yourself as a flesh and blood sacrifice!”

  Williams stared at me, eyes wide, then turned to the detective. “Is she right? I told Temperance that teleporting from place to place sounded too good to be true. I’ve seen a lot of strange things in my days, but even I had a hard time believing that.”

  Bentley turned and squinted at me. Was it true?

  “I’m not bluffing,” I told him. “It’s the truth. She’s casting a powerful spell to bring something up from...” I listened a moment. “From the Deep.”

  Bentley drew in a breath, then said to Williams, “Zara Riddle is the most powerful witch I’ve ever met. She knows every kind of spell in existence, and all the witch languages, even the ancient ones.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “If she says that a spell is for summoning an ancient being, then that’s what it does.”

  Bentley glanced over at me for approval. I gave him half a shrug. He’d laid it on a bit thick, but I was sure about the spell. Eighty percent sure. Or at least forty-five percent sure.

  Williams went to Krinkle, who was seated in the chair, and reached for her arm. A bubble of light flashed around Krinkle and the chair, and Williams screamed. He staggered back, let out a sorrowful noise, and collapsed on the floor.

  Bentley and I exchanged a look.

  “Did you see that?” Bentley asked. “There’s some sort of shield around her.”

  “I saw it,” I said. “Don’t get too close, and don’t try to grab her while she’s in that chair, wearing that amulet.”

  “What can we do?”

  “You’re the cop. What would a cop do?”

  “Arrest her on suspicion of kidnapping.”

  “Let’s try that. Hurry, before she gets through it again with the right pronunciation.”

  Bentley stood in front of Krinkle, staying back from her protective bubble, which was now shimmering.

  “Ma’am, I am placing you under arrest,” Bentley said loudly. “Do you hear me? Stop what you’re doing and put your hands on top of your head where I can see them.”

  She continued reciting the spell, her hands on either side of the amulet, her fingers touching the gemstone.

  My sense of direction suddenly shifted. Up felt like down and down was up.

  My body felt less solid than usual, as though I’d had a buoyancy spell cast on me, yet I had cast nothing of the sort. My hair flipped around, as though caught by a breeze.

  It was a magic breeze. Power was flowing through the attic, passing through me, gathering and funneling toward Krinkle in her iron chair.

  A rope of magic tickled my half-bare shoulder. It was a stream of witch power—Margaret Mills’ power, specifically—arcing through, just missing my ear. Margaret’s tough-skinned magic snaked into the amulet on Krinkle’s neck, like lightning being trapped in a bottle.

  Mangled pronunciation or not, the spell was getting stronger. If my interpretation was correct, an ancient being was heading our way. A powe
rful one.

  Since Krinkle wouldn’t listen to reason and stop the spell, I had to do something.

  I didn’t dare reach for her and get a shock, but I could poke through her protective bubble in other ways.

  Standing my ground at a safe distance, I grabbed for the amulet using magic.

  Nothing.

  My telekinetic power wouldn’t even budge the necklace, let alone lift it off over Krinkle’s head.

  I heard Aunt Zinnia in my head: Never use magic when regular means will work.

  I strode toward the iron chair and the old woman, both of which were radiating with power, bright enough that it gave the crumpled body of Louis Williams a pale blue glow.

  The amulet was right in front of me, only a few feet away. If I could get that amulet from the old woman, all of this would stop. And then I would have the amulet.

  I glanced over at the crumpled form of Louis Williams. Most people would view the man’s failure as a warning to not try the same thing.

  But most people were not Zara Riddle.

  Williams couldn’t reach through the chair’s barrier, but he was a mere human. He didn’t have my powers.

  As I extended my hand toward the amulet, Bentley yelled out, “Wait!”

  Who wants to wait?

  My fingers crossed the glowing boundary.

  “Zara, wai—”

  But I didn’t wait.

  And then, I immediately regretted not waiting.

  Chapter 30

  I probably shouldn’t have stuck my hands through Krinkle’s magic bubble of protection, but they say hindsight is 20/20.

  What followed was a pain that some might describe as being like nothing they’d ever felt before, except that wasn’t true in my case.

  The blast from Krinkle’s protective bubble felt an awful lot like the shock I’d gotten from Vincent Wick’s bumper. That time, at least my aunt had been on the scene to cast a spell to keep my body alive and my blood circulating. She had also unwittingly invited a certain ether-trapped genie to animate me for a while. Fun times!