Dizzy Spells

by Morgana Best

  I laughed and apologized. We followed him to the back of the shop. Camino and Mint, Ruprecht’s granddaughter, were already sitting at the table. Ruprecht took a seat at the head of the table.

  “Friends,” Ruprecht said with a soft smile. “I’m glad you could all make it, at the behest of our dear Camino. I think perhaps we should get to work before any discussion, because that in itself will set our discussion on the right path.”

  The others nodded their agreement, and Camino stood. She picked up a bag from the ground beside her chair and pulled a few items from it. The first was a thick candle made of yellow and purple wax. It had a long white wick that had yet to be burned. After she placed the candle on a fireproof dish, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small vial of yellow liquid. She set that on its side next to the candle and continued extracting items from her bag: a piece of thin parchment paper, and a grease pencil. Camino sat down once more, and then took up the grease pencil as she smoothed the parchment out before her with one hand. She began to write.

  I watched with interest. I craned my neck to see what Camino was writing, but I couldn’t quite make it out.

  Thyme produced a book of matches and prized one free from the others, closing the flimsy cardboard lid over the end of it, and striking it along the scratchy strip. It lit at once, a small yellow and orange flame that danced in the dim light of the store. Thyme reached across the table and lit the candle. When the wick caught, it produced a much larger flame than the match, and began to crackle and sputter, almost like a firecracker. The flame died down and danced slowly along the wick, twisting this way and that as it rose into the air, the flame turning into a spiraling gray stream of smoke.

  When Camino was finished writing, she pushed the paper toward me and set her fingers on one corner, turning it so I could see what had been transcribed. It simply read, in slanting scrawl, ‘Who works against Amelia’s highest good?’

  There were symbols drawn around the edges of the parchment, figures I didn’t recognize, but the words were in English. I was touched that once again a spell was being done for my benefit.

  Camino pulled the thin and waxy parchment back toward her and then set the burning candle on it. She took up the vial next, pulling out the small rubber stopper with an audible pop. She held her index finger over the opening and twisted her wrist so that the oil inside coated the tip of her finger. She wiped her finger up the surface of the candle in several strokes.

  “Show us who works against Amelia’s highest good,” Camino said, her voice soft and low. “Reveal to us who poses her harm, and who does not have her best interests at heart. Do this. Do this.”

  Thyme turned to me. “Let’s leave the room now,” she said in a whisper. “Camino is going to do a divination as soon as she feels the time is right. We need to leave her alone.”

  I rose and followed the others out of the room into the tiny kitchen. “How long does it take?” I asked in hushed tones.

  “As long as it takes,” Mint said with a shrug. “These things aren’t always exact. It doesn’t usually take too long, though.”

  “It should help us find who is behind all of this,” Thyme said. “It mightn’t tell us who Thomas Hale’s killer is, but it will tell us if Alder Vervain is someone we need to worry about.”

  I was somewhat irritated. Thyme was already convinced that Alder was not to be trusted. It seemed to me that she was firmly convinced of that, and didn’t need a spell to reveal his true intentions.

  And then there was Craig. Sure, he wasn’t the knight in shining armor that I’d first thought, but that didn’t mean he was a killer, and someone trying to frame me for the murder. I felt lightheaded all of a sudden. “I’ve got a headache coming on. Do you mind if I go outside for some fresh air?”

  Ruprecht looked at me with concern. “Are you all right? Would you like some lavender tea?”

  I shook my head. “I’m okay, thanks. I just need some fresh air for a few moments. I’ll be right back.”

  I headed for the front door. I turned the lock and pushed the door open, escaping into the cool air on the sidewalk. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Sometimes all this stuff was just too much. The living house, me being a witch, the two murders on my property, the almost-boyfriend who was not to be trusted.

  “Are you okay?” a deep voice said beside me.

  I jumped. It was Alder Vervain.

  “What do you want?” My words came out more harshly than I intended.

  “Well, I’m following you, as you know. I was worried about you. You look tired.”

  “I am tired,” I said. “I’m mostly tired of you following me.”

  Alder chuckled. “I’m sure you are,” he said, “but I have bills to pay. Apart from that, I just wanted to check up on you.”

  “Why?”

  “People aren’t always who you think they are. Now, about that guy you’re seeing…”

  I held up my hand to cut him off. “I’m not seeing him.”

  Alder nodded, and I wondered if he already knew. “What are you doing at Glinda’s?”

  “That’s none of your business,” I said, remembering that Alder’s family had a history of persecuting witches.

  Alder nodded. “Fair enough,” he said, “but watch your back. People aren’t always what they seem.” He stepped backward, into the shadows, and soon merged with the falling darkness.

  I watched him go, and then went back inside.

  “That was good timing,” Thyme said. “I was just about to come and get you. Camino’s ready.”

  The others were already at the table, and I took my seat. Camino held a pendulum, a cylindrical clear crystal quartz pointed at one end and hanging from a delicate gold chain.

  In front of her were several pieces of paper, scrunched up into balls and arranged in a circle. Mint leaned over to me. “There are names written inside the papers,” she said. “The names are hidden while Camino does the divination, so she won’t be subconsciously influenced by them.”

  I nodded. “What names are in there?”

  “Alder Vervain, Craig, Kayleen, Dianne, and Unknown,” she whispered. “We always do a paper labeled ‘Unknown’ in case it’s someone we haven’t thought of.”

  That makes sense, I thought, as I turned my attention to the pendulum. I didn’t know why Dianne’s name was included, but I supposed it was a good idea to include her, as she had known the deceased.

  At first the pendulum did nothing, and I wondered if anything at all would happen. Then, as Camino chanted softly, it began to move. It moved violently over one piece of paper again and again. Camino stilled the pendulum, and then moved the paper from the circle, placing it to one side.

  As she chanted again, the pendulum swung between two pieces of paper. It was nowhere near as forceful this time, but moved rhythmically. Camino once more stilled the pendulum, and moved those two pieces of paper from the circle, placing them side-by-side under the first piece of paper.

  Camino returned to her chanting, but this time, the pendulum did nothing. After a few moments, Camino opened her eyes. White smoke rose lazily from the hot wick as Camino snuffed the candle.

  Everyone looked at me with concern. I was worried, too. Three people did not have my best interests at heart? That sounded bad, real bad. Part of me wanted to know who they were, but part of me didn’t.

  I jumped when the room suddenly flooded with light. I looked up and saw Ruprecht at the light switch. He at once returned to his seat, just as Camino opened one of the two pieces of paper at the bottom of the arrangement. Those were the two pieces of paper that had not drawn any reaction from the pendulum. She flattened out the paper and then held it up for all of us to see. It had the word, ‘Unknown.’

  Okay, that was a concern. I’d rather someone unknown have ill intent toward me, because that meant that three people I knew had it in for me, at least to some degree.

  Camino then reached for the top piece of paper, the piece to which the pendulum had reacted
violently. She unfolded it, and then flattened it. Everyone gasped when she held it up to show us the name.

  Dianne.

  Still, no one spoke. I wanted to ask questions, wanted to ask why Dianne would mean me harm. Yet the others were silent, so I remained silent also. There were three more pieces of paper to go, including two more names of people who did not have my best interests at heart. Camino reached for one of those. I held my breath as she held it up.

  Kayleen.

  Well, that was no surprise. Kayleen had been clearly upset to see Craig having dinner with me, and I suspected that they had something going on. At any rate, she was angry that I had a Post Office box. Or was there more to it?

  I turned my attention to the last two pieces of paper. Only the names of Craig and Alder remained. Which one did not have my best interests at heart?

  Camino reached for the paper that had been next to Kayleen’s. She carefully, and it seemed to me, way too slowly, unscrunched it, and then placed it face down on the table, flattening it out. She held it up to reveal the name.

  Everyone gasped.

  Chapter 20

  “Something went wrong,” Mint said, shaking her head. “Right?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ruprecht said. “It didn’t seem wrong.”

  Mint wouldn’t give up. “But Dianne is the woman Amelia is trying to help. Why would she be out to harm her?”

  “And why did Alder Vervain come up innocent?” Thyme asked, reaching for the remaining piece of paper, the one that, like ‘Unknown’, meant me no harm. Sure enough, it had the words ‘Alder Vervain’ written on it. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “It is what it is,” Ruprecht said. “We need to take it at face value.”

  My relief was short lived when the full import of what had just happened sank in. “Does this mean that three people are out to harm me?”

  Camino rushed to reassure me. “No, not at all. It just means they don’t have your best interests at heart. As far as Kayleen goes, well, the woman has a grudge against just about everyone in town. As for Craig, it could just mean he’s a womanizer. Yes, it could be more than that, but it might not be. The one who really stood out was Dianne. ”

  “What would Dianne have against me?” I asked.

  No one seemed to have an answer for that.

  “We need to do some digging on Dianne,” Thyme said finally. “I think.”

  Ruprecht nodded. “She’s right. We were here thinking Dianne was the reason we were doing this. You and Amelia were trying to help her, but it seems that she has an agenda of her own. And as for Craig,” he continued, “it would be best to stay away from him. Certainly he shouldn’t be going inside your home.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be avoiding him like the plague from now on.”

  Ruprecht nodded and patted my arm.

  “Why don’t I invite Dianne over for coffee and cake?” I suggested. “The house will probably do something to reveal what she’s up to.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Thyme said. “I should be there, too. We’ll make it a girls’ cupcake evening.”

  And so, the following afternoon, I was waiting nervously for Dianne to show up at my house. I felt betrayed. I had been nothing but nice to the woman, so I had not the faintest clue why she would have a problem with me.

  I greeted Dianne at the door with false enthusiasm.

  If Dianne felt anything at all from the house, she did a good job of keeping it to herself. “Girl chat with coffee sounded exactly like what Madam Dianne needed,” she said. “Thanks for having me.”

  “Any time,” I said, as I shut the door behind her. As I showed Dianne into the living room, Thyme came in with a tray loaded with coffee cups and a carafe of coffee.

  “Here we are,” Thyme said, setting the tray down beside a large box of cupcakes.

  “Let me use the bathroom if I may,” Dianne said.

  As soon as she was out of sight, Thyme hurried over to me. “She might not make it back,” she whispered.

  I shook my head. “She seemed fine. I don’t understand it. I thought she’d be dizzy by now.”

  Thyme shrugged. “She might be good at hiding it.”

  I nudged her. “Shush! I think she’s coming back.”

  Dianne returned and looked completely normal, much to my puzzlement. I offered her a plate of double chocolate cupcakes.

  Dianne waved her hand in refusal.

  “But they’re your favorite,” I said.

  She shook her head. “No, I can’t. My doctor is nagging me,” she said. “I’ve been having dizzy spells and my blood tests came back bad. I have to take my diabetes more seriously.”

  I exchanged glances with Thyme. “I didn’t know you had diabetes,” Thyme said.

  Dianne looked as if she had said something she shouldn’t have. She fidgeted with her coffee cup and then set it down. “It’s just something I have to deal with. I don’t talk about it much.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear you suffer from it,” Thyme said. “It can certainly be a terrible disease.”

  “It becomes second nature after a while,” Dianne said. “But it keeps me from those cupcakes sometimes.”

  I faked a laugh. All I could think of was the insulin. Thomas Hale had been killed with insulin. Yet what could be her motive? She said she had barely known the man, but if she killed him, of course she’d say that.

  When Dianne next used the bathroom, Thyme hurried over to me. “Insulin!” she said.

  “I know, right!”

  Thyme nodded. “I bet she was the one who killed Hale with insulin.”

  “So now we’ve gone from wanting to help her to thinking she’s a murderer?” I asked.

  Thyme pulled a face. “I don’t know, but she showed up on the paper, didn’t she!”

  I agreed. “She sure did.”

  “And did you see her face, when she realized she told us she was diabetic? Why wouldn’t she want anyone to know?” Thyme asked.

  “She might be private,” I said. “Okay, I don’t believe that. Something’s up with the diabetic thing, but we’re forgetting something.”

  “What?”

  “She was at the top of the list, but she’s been in my house for over an hour now.”

  Thyme nodded. “And nothing’s happened.”

  “Not a thing. The cats are hiding from her, though.” As if on cue, Willow and Hawthorn peeped around the corner.

  An idea occurred to me. “What if the house wanted us to know about the diabetes? Maybe the house knew what we were doing. It didn’t need to warn us.”

  “Possibly. So what’s the next step?” Thyme asked.

  “We need to find out if she has a motive. Did she know Hale after all? Is there a history there, something more than a passing acquaintance?”

  “How are we going to do that?” Thyme asked.

  “We can figure it out when she goes, if you have time to hang around for a while.”

  “Sure,” Thyme said, “but I’ve thought of something else. Craig is also a suspect. We have to consider the fact that the house didn’t react to Dianne, but did react to Craig.”

  “This is doing my head in,” I said.

  Thyme grabbed my arm. “We’re talking about Dianne as if she’s guilty of murder, but she didn’t get dizzy or think the walls were closing in on her. Yet when Craig came over, as soon as he stepped onto your porch, he got dizzy. The house attacked him twice.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked urgently, as I heard the bathroom door shut. “I thought the house only attacked him as he’s a womanizer.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Thyme said, “but what if Craig is the murderer?”

  Chapter 21

  I was driving around Newcastle, and I was lost. “I don’t know if this is such a good idea, Thyme,” I said for the umpteenth time, as yet another impatient driver blasted their horn at me.

  “Pull over and I’ll google the directions again,” she said. “The connection just dropped out.”

&
nbsp; I sighed and gripped the steering wheel. “Thyme, if you look out the window, you will see that I can’t pull over, unless you want me to drive over the cliff into the sea.” We were driving up a long, winding hill from Nobbys Beach in search of the café where Dianne used to work. There was a white rail beside us, and then, a fair distance below, was the sea. Huge waves crashed against Newcastle Beach.

  “There!” she screeched. “King Edward Park. Do you see the sign? Pull over there.”

  I swung the wheel hard and ended up on a narrow road. I parked next to a ‘No Parking’ sign. “I’ll keep the engine running and watch out for cops while you google the directions,” I said. “I don’t know why you didn’t bring your scrying water.”

  Thyme looked up. “Are you kidding? There’d be no water left in it by the time we got here, the way you drive.”

  I pouted. I still hadn’t told Thyme that I had seen images in the scrying water. I wasn’t exactly keeping it from her, but I was still coming to terms with the fact that I was a witch.

  “There it is,” Thyme said triumphantly, followed not so triumphantly by, “Oh, I think we just passed it. The turn off, at any rate. You need to go down Watt Street.”

  I sighed loudly and turned the car around. It had taken four hours to get here. I wondered if there was any point to the entire trip.

  “Quick, turn left!”

  I did as Thyme said, and found myself in Hunter Street. A few minutes later, after driving once again beside the sea, Thyme directed me to pull over outside a large brick building. “I thought she worked in a café?” I asked. “So why does that sign say ‘Antique Center?’”

  Thyme shook her head. “It says it’s here on the map.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “Drive around a little. If we see someone, we can ask them.”

  I edged the car forward, but I had only gone a few yards when I saw a sign partially obscured behind a half-dead shrub. “Thyme, look!”

  “Waterside Eatery,” Thyme said aloud. “Yay, we found it!”