by Zoe Arden
"What's that about?" Melbourne asked me as he began rolling chocolate dough into tiny ball forms and laying them all out on a cookie tin.
"Oh, nothing. I don't think. I just asked Snowy to keep an eye on Anastasia Peacock for me."
"Oh?"
I wasn't sure how much to tell him. It wasn't that I didn't trust Melbourne. It was just that I didn't know him all that well. What if he was friends with Anastasia? What if he wouldn't like the fact I was having her followed?
"Yeah, well, you know. Polly's locked up in Wormwood and Anastasia's all alone. I just, er, wanted to make sure that she's okay. That's all."
"Oh. That's nice of you," Melbourne said, but he seemed lost in thought now.
He silently rolled out two dozen brownie bites while I worked on creating a new batch of comfort extract. My mind worked over everything a dozen times but I was getting nowhere. The one point Margaret had made was that Lucy, Megan, and Pennyweather all had one thing in common—Melbourne.
But that was crazy. There must have been something I was overlooking.
"We saw Anastasia," Melbourne suddenly announced. "Before Pennyweather went missing."
Whoa. What?
"You did?" I asked, excited.
"Yeah. We didn't think too much about it at the time. Maybe that it was a little weird, but nothing really beyond that. I only thought of it now because of what you said to Snowball. Or, I guess, what Snowball said to you."
"Which part?"
"About Anastasia following you and your family."
"Are you saying that Anastasia was following you and Pennyweather?" I asked, my heart starting to pound.
"Not me," Melbourne said. "The only time I ever saw her was when I was with Pennyweather."
"Oh, my roses," I muttered.
"You think there's a connection?" Melbourne asked.
I didn't want to get his hopes up. I shrugged. "Probably not, but just to clarify, how long before Pennyweather's disappearance would you say Anastasia was following you? I mean Pennyweather. "
"I'm not really sure. A week? Maybe less."
A week or less? Jackpot! That was exactly what she'd been doing with my family. And Megan. Now if I could just prove that she'd been following Lucy, too, I might have a case to bring to Sheriff Knoxx.
"Well, I think I'm gonna head out," I told him, attempting to maintain my composure.
"Where are you going?"
"To see Lucy. I want to check in with her before she leaves the hospital. The doctors said she could go home today or tomorrow."
"I'm sure that'll be a relief."
"Yeah. Um, Melbourne... don't tell my aunts what you told me. About Anastasia, I mean. It'll just stress them out."
Melbourne frowned. I could tell he wasn't buying it.
"You think she's behind this somehow, don't you?"
I sighed. "Maybe," I admitted, "but if she is, we need more than just a few random sightings of her around town to make anything stick. That's what Sheriff Knoxx will say."
"So what's your plan?" he asked.
"My plan is to go find the evidence I need before anyone else gets hurt. Which means I need to get down to The Alchemic Stone now, while I know she's out."
Melbourne looked at me a long minute. "Good luck. Let me know if there's anything I can do."
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CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
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Tootsie stayed out front to keep watch while Snowball and I went around to the back. There was a small, thin alleyway with a garbage dumpster. Nothing more. I was glad Snowball and Tootsie had both come. When I'd told them my plan was to break into The Alchemic Stone and "browse" the store, I'd been afraid they'd refuse to help.
"Mama means Anastasia will not be at store while we browse?" Snowball had asked.
"That's right, Snowy."
"Snowball is happy with that. Snowball does not like Anastasia Peacock."
"Tootsie agrees," Trixie's fluffy orange familiar had chimed in.
We got there fast and tried the door before assuming it was closed.
Locked.
Good.
Snowball was fearless. She jumped on top of a pile of boxes wobblier than I cared for, then climbed in through an open window. She didn't seem to care if there was danger or rule breaking involved, she just wanted to help her Mama.
A second later, the back door opened.
"Store is empty," Snowy informed me.
"Thanks, Snowy," I said and stepped inside.
"Snowball will keep watch out back. Snowball is a good guard cat."
"The absolute best," I said, reaching down to scratch her fluffy white head.
I'd been terrified that a store like The Alchemic Stone would have all kinds of magical spells cast on it to keep intruders out, but Snowball had gotten inside like it was no harder than stepping into a department store. I still didn't know how she did half the stuff she did, but I guessed it didn't matter as long as Snowball knew how she did it.
The store was dark. I didn't dare switch on a light, though. I didn't want to attract attention. I just used the penlight I'd brought with. That would have to suffice.
I wasn't planning to take anything, I just wanted to look around. The place had a strange feeling that it hadn't held last time I was here. Was it because what I was doing was technically illegal? Maybe. I thought it had more to do with knowing that Anastasia was up to no good. I'd been guessing at it until now, but hearing Melbourne admit that Anastasia had been following Pennyweather just before her disappearance cemented things for me.
Find what I'm looking for and get out.
I thought my inner voice was giving very sound advice this evening and began searching for Polly's diary. The day that Anastasia had caught me looking at it, she'd locked it up in a cabinet behind the counter. I hoped it was still there.
The cabinet was locked when I pulled on it, which was a good sign. After all, people didn't lock things up unless they were important. Or dangerous. I only wished I knew how to open it. I looked around for something to help me with the lock, and a large, ancient looking book caught my eye. It was lying flat open on the glass counter where Anastasia displayed many of her more dangerous stones and crystals.
The book was two feet wide and three feet tall. The cover was all black with strange symbols I didn't recognize. I stared at it a minute, afraid to touch it. It smelled old. And dark.
One word was written in big, bold letters across the cover: WITCHCRAFT. A pentagram was engraved just below it.
I flipped back to the section Anastasia had left it open to. The picture that stared back at me from the made my heart skip a beat. I blinked, hoping that I was misinterpreting what I saw, but there was no misinterpreting the heading at the top of the page.
CONJURING DRAUGAR
"Oh, my roses," I whispered.
A sudden, horrible thought occurred to me.
Anastasia picked up where Polly and Slater left off.
She must have been trying to conjure a draugr to help kill more witches. Had she succeeded? Pennyweather was certainly dead. Maybe the goblins been right. I wished Sheriff Knoxx and my aunts hadn't been so quick to dismiss them.
A noise from behind startled me. I jumped a thousand feet in the air and almost knocked the book off the counter.
"Snowy, you scared me!"
"Snowball is sorry."
"I thought you were keeping watch."
"Snowball thought Mama needed help."
"Snowball is right." I was always amazed at the way Snowball could read me. "Can you get this cabinet open?"
Snowball hopped up on the counter and stared at the cabinet a moment. Her whiskers twitched rapidly and she let out a loud "Meeeoow" that sounded like she was battling it out with another, bigger cat. A minute later, there was a click. I pulled on the cabinet door and it opened easily.
I looked at Snowy, astonish
ed. She yawned and licked her paw.
"Thanks."
"Snowball gets tuna?"
"Snowball gets lots of tuna," I told her.
The diary was exactly where Polly had left it. I started flipping through it, searching for anything about draugar or casting spells to kill humans. I still didn't understand what Anastasia was up to. Not exactly.
If she'd successfully conjured a draugr, it had been killing witches and goblins. Not humans. But Polly and Slater had been focused solely on killing humans.
It didn't make any sense.
If Anastasia wanted to pick up where Polly left off, wouldn't she be killing tourists? They were the most annoying humans on Heavenly Haven.
"Where is it?" I muttered, searching for the page I'd seen last time.
Polly had written something about an "evil brat" being "unleashed" on the world. That had to be connected somehow to whatever Anastasia was up to. Several pages had been ripped out of the diary. Only their corners remained.
"Crud," I muttered, certain what I wanted was on one of the missing pages.
From out front of the store, a loud "Meeeooowww!" sounded through the air. Tootsie.
Snowball's back arched. A low hiss erupted from her throat.
"Snowy? What is it?"
Then I heard it, too. A soft humming sound.
Oh no. Anastasia.
I quickly stuck Polly's diary back inside the cabinet and ducked under a table with a long tablecloth. I pulled the cloth down just as Anastasia came strolling into the room.
She walked past the table where I was holding my breath and set a bag of groceries on the counter. I peeked through a slit in the material and watched her flip through the witchcraft book. She finally found whatever it was she'd been looking for.
"Aha," she muttered to herself. "It was goat liver. That's what I thought."
I made a disgusted face as she pulled a bloody hunk of meat from her grocery bag and looked at it, frowning slightly. "I hope this is enough." Then she set it back in the bag and made her way into through the backroom, which was a more like a kitchen than a standard office. I heard her shoes clop on the creaky wooden stairs as she made her way to the basement.
Snowy didn't wait. She darted out ahead of me, making a beeline for the back door. I followed after her, taking once last glance at the witchcraft book. It was open to a new page.
CONTROLLING DRAUGAR
I thought that was a terrible joke. If Anastasia had really conjured a draugr, there was no way to control it. How could you control something that was dead?
There was only one person I knew who might be able to shed some light on this. Unfortunately, she and I didn't have the best track record. What would she say if I asked for her help now? Polly hated me.
Could six months in Wormwood really change that?
* * *
CHAPTER
THIRTY
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I snuck out of the house early the next morning, intent on making the trip to Wormwood as quickly and quietly as possible. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to know where I was going.
Yesterday, after The Alchemic Stone, I'd stopped by Lucy's house. She was home from the hospital and I thought she might like to be filled in on some of the details from my little adventure, but her parents never left the room.
I had the feeling that although they liked me, they didn't trust me. Not completely. Maybe they'd never gotten over the initial impression I'd made on Sweetland when I'd first arrived. That of a dim-witch serial killer who couldn’t butter a slice of bread without a wand nearby.
Then again, maybe it was Lucy they didn't trust. Either way, I couldn't tell her anything with them standing there. I hoped she'd forgive me later. She was the kind of girl who liked to be kept in the loop.
Wormwood was an hour and a half hour drive. I'd borrowed Aunt Eleanor's car again. She'd never noticed the last time I'd taken it to Whisper Crossing, and I suspected she wouldn't notice now, either. That was one nice thing about Heavenly Haven. The island was so small that almost nobody drove anywhere.
I made the turn onto Catchum Highway, which steered me toward Mistmoor Point. About halfway there, though, the road came to a fork. I paused, consulting my paper map—Google Maps didn't work on Heavenly Haven—and made a right, toward the ocean.
Wormwood Work Camp was considered a mid-security prison for witches. A little tougher than Witch Hill Reform School, a little easier than Swords and Bones, where Slater had been sent. It was trimmed for the holidays, a giant red ribbon hanging off the gate as I approached. I stopped my car, suddenly realizing I had no idea what visiting hours were, or if they even had visiting hours.
"ID," the guard said, sounding bored.
I handed him my driver's license.
"What's your business here?" he asked.
He was dressed in a dark blue security uniform and had a tiny piece of garland pinned to his collar. He had both a wand and a gun attached to his belt. I'd never seen a wand quite like it before and wondered if it was somehow specific to Wormwood inmates. It had a blue metal tip and seemed to shine even when it was holstered.
"Um, I'm here to see Polly Peacock," I stuttered.
I held my breath, praying to the witches that he wouldn't send me away. He checked my ID and handed it back along with a slip of paper.
"Put that in your window," he muttered, barely looking at me. "Go straight and make a right at the fountain. Park in the lot."
"Thanks," I said, relieved that at least this part had been easy.
Inside Wormwood, I stepped through a metal detector, a wand detector, and emptied my pockets into a giant plastic bin.
The female guard brought me to a chair that sat partitioned off from several other chairs. There was no window. Goosebumps pricked up on my arm as I waited. I'd pictured something out of a movie. A long glass window with phones that connected either side. This room was nothing like that.
Inmates here could touch each other. Hug each other. Hurt each other. I looked around the partition separating me from my neighbor. He was chatting merrily with a woman of thirty, holding her hand.
Is this how prison was in the witching world? Or was it just Wormwood?
I reminded myself that Wormwood wasn't exactly prison. It was a work camp. I wasn't entirely sure what the difference was, but I didn't think it mattered. There were at least a dozen guards standing close by. I told myself to relax. Polly had already been stripped of her powers. Nothing could happen here. I was probably safer here than I was in Sweetland Cove at the moment.
My phone buzzed. I checked the text that had just come through. It was from Lucy.
CALL ME! ASAP!
I started to text her back that I couldn't talk just now, but a woman's voice cut the thought right out of my head.
"Oh, my roses. Look what the witch dragged in."
I looked up to see Polly standing with a big smile on her face. The kind of smile that mocked rather than expressed joy. The kind of smile that knew how to lie.
"Hey, Polly," I said, attempting to sound casual. What a joke. There was nothing casual about being in Wormwood. My voice cracked a million times just in the two words I'd uttered so far.
The guard pulled out a chair for Polly, and I noticed that she was wearing handcuffs along with her orange jumpsuit. No one else was. Did that mean she was dangerous even without her powers? Her blond hair had been cut short and her face looked surprisingly lackluster. I wondered if that had something to do with getting her powers stripped—Polly had always been a natural beauty. Like most witches.
"What do you want?" Polly asked, getting right to it. She was sitting across from me, and I had to force myself not to look away. I didn't want her thinking I was scared of her. Even though I was. Just a little bit.
"I want to know about your diary," I said.
The smile on her face faded.
"My diary?
"
"Yes. I know your mom's got it. I've seen part of it."
I figured there was no point in beating around the bush. I didn't have time for that, and Polly would have seen right through it, anyway. She was much too clever to fall for anything other than the truth.
"I see," she replied, sitting coolly back in her chair. The smile had resurfaced. "If you've seen it, then I don't know what you need me for."
"I've only seen part of it," I corrected
She waited for me to continue.
"I just want to know..." I cleared my throat, unable to believe I was about to ask something so many people would have told me was impossible. "Before you came to Wormwood, was Slater attempting to conjure a draugr?"
Polly's smile thinned.
"What makes you think I'd answer anything you might ask me?"
"Because Slater was just using you. He never cared about you. He hated witches and wanted us all dead. Including you."
She blanched, and I could tell I'd struck a sore point. I decided to keep with it.
"I thought that maybe after six months of sitting in here, contemplating everything that happened, you might be willing to help me stop what's happening in Sweetland Cove."
"What's happening in Sweetland Cove?" she asked.
I took another deep breath and hoped I didn't pass out. "I think your mother has picked up where you and Slater left off. I think she's actually conjured a draugr. And now it's going around killing witches and goblins."
The laugh Polly let out could have turned water to ice it was so cold. She kept laughing until the guard came by and put a hand on her shoulder.
"What's so funny?" I asked her.
"It's funny that you think I would want to stop any of what you're describing."
"But the draugr is killing witches," I insisted. "A world without witches—"
"Would leave me in charge," she finished. "That doesn't sound so bad to me."
