by Zoe Arden
My jaw dropped open as I realized what she was saying.
"You mean... you want the draugr to kill witches?"
My phone rang, and I quickly turned it off.
"I'm saying that if my mother has conjured something so effective at killing as a draugr, then the only thing you can do is wait. When the witching world finally tires of the thousands of deaths one draugr can create, they will come to the only one who can stop it."
"Your mother."
"And they'll have to meet her demands, whatever they might be."
"I thought draugr only killed those who harmed them while they were alive."
"Yeah, but once they're done with that, they don't stop. The killing continues. If anything, it gets worse."
"I'm never going to let that happen," I said, rising from my seat.
"You still don't get it, do you?" Polly asked. "It's too late. It's already happening. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."
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CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
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By the time I got back to Sweetland, my head was throbbing. I popped a couple aspirin and wondered how it was that headaches couldn't be cured with magic. I needed to talk to Eleanor and Trixie. Now.
Eleanor had to convince Sheriff Knoxx that I wasn't crazy. That draugar were real and walking around in Sweetland Cove.
The door to Mystic Cupcake was locked when I tried it. For a second, I thought I had the wrong store. Mystic's doors were never locked in the middle of the afternoon. This was the bakery's busiest time of day, next to breakfast.
I tried again but the door wouldn't budge. The Welcome sign had been flipped to Closed. I took my keys out and unlocked the door with the spare Eleanor and Trixie had given me. Maybe they were in the back, baking. That wouldn't explain why the whole place was shut down, though.
"Eleanor?" I called. "Trixie?"
Nothing but silence. Even the familiars were distinctly absent.
"Snowball?" I called. Snowball always seemed to know where I'd be before I did. When even she didn't respond, I began to get a creepy feeling on the back of my neck.
"My phone!" I shouted, making myself jump.
Of course.
I'd turned it off at Wormwood and never turned it back on. Eleanor and Trixie had probably tried to call me. I pushed the power button and the phone flickered to life. A dozen test messages popped up on my screen, all from Lucy.
CALL ME!
911!
WHERE R U?
WHY AREN'T YOU CALLING?
ARE U OK?
A dozen more voicemails lay on the other end of my speed dial, waiting for me to listen to them. At least one was from Eleanor's number.
Panic gripped me. What had I missed? I was already pushing the button to dial Lucy's number when my phone began to vibrate in my hand. I almost dropped it as I tried to swipe the answer button.
"Hello?" I finally said, holding the phone to my ear.
"Oh, Ava, there you are." Eleanor's voice rang out with relief. "We were getting worried."
"I'm fine. What's wrong? I'm at the bakery. Where is everyone?"
"Your Aunt Trixie and I had a baking emergency."
"A baking emergency?" I asked. "What kind of emergency do bakers get?"
"Well, perhaps that's not quite the right phrase. It's more like a coffee emergency." She lowered her voice so that it was barely above a whisper. "We're at Coffee Cove with Melbourne. There's been some trouble."
"What do you mean? What happened?"
"Margaret Binford and a few others came by. To talk." The way she said talk, I knew it had been much more than that.
"Oh no! They didn't hurt him, did they?"
Margaret Binford was almost as bad as Polly when it came to using magic and lies to get her way.
"Melbourne's fine. Though Margaret's sounding a bit squeakier than usual.”
"What do you mean?"
"Your Aunt Trixie may have performed a mouse transformational. Margaret's sprouted a tail and some whiskers. She's also craving cheese. Cheddar in particular. I've sent Trixie to the store to get some."
I stifled a laugh. Serves Margaret right.
This must have been why Lucy was texting me. She wanted to gossip.
"Can you do me a favor and run to the house to feed Rocky and Tootsie?" Eleanor asked. "We haven't had a chance to check in on them today, and I don't want them to starve."
"Sure, but can't they feed themselves? I've seen them to some pretty amazing things."
I was thinking of Snowball popping open the locked cabinet for me with a literal twitch of her whiskers.
"Of course, they can," Eleanor said. "It's only that lately, Rocky has taken to skipping his meals in lieu of bacon. I'm not opposed to him having a treat now and again, but yesterday he literally ate the bacon right off my plate."
I giggled at the image of Rocky stealing Eleanor's breakfast bacon.
"It's not funny. A thing like that can lead to heart disease. Or worse, bacon addiction. I told him no more. I just want to make sure he's following instruction. Tootsie and he have a way of collaborating together at times that makes me suspicious."
"I'll swing by now," I told her.
"Thank you. I'll let you know when we're through here. It might be a while, though." I heard Melbourne say something in the background and a loud squeak followed. "Oh, dear. I think Margaret is starting to grow fur. I'd better go."
I locked the store back up and headed to the house. This would give me a chance to talk to my dad, anyway. Maybe he would finally tell me what's been going on with him.
"Hi, Dad!" I called loudly when I walked inside. There was no response.
"Dad?"
Something in the air felt off. It was heavy. Like a thick, invisible fog had settled over everything.
"Rocky? Tootsie? Snowball?"
Where was everybody?
Three figures came flying at me from the kitchen. Rocky was so excited to see me he jumped onto his hind legs, placed his paws against my chest, and almost knocked me to the ground.
"Whoa," I said. "I'm happy to see you, too."
"Problem. There is a problem," Rocky said, licking my face and dropping back to the ground. I realized what I'd mistaken for excitement was agitation. Tootsie and Snowball were acting just as wild as Rocky, spinning in circles and trying to get my attention.
"What is it?" I asked them, a sinking feeling in my stomach. "What's wrong?"
"Papa is gone," Snowball said. She ran toward the kitchen, paused to make sure I was following her, and continued her run. Tootsie nudged my heels from behind to get me moving.
"What do you mean, Papa's gone?" I asked. The moment I walked into the kitchen, I understood. The place was a wreck. Broken dishes were scattered everywhere. Coffee lay spilled on the floor in giant puddles.
"What happened?" I asked, trying not to freak out.
"Snowball and Tootsie and Rocky don't know. Familiars were playing outside when there was a loud noise," Snowball told me.
"That is right," Tootsie said. "Inside, we found kitchen a mess and Papa gone."
"We need to split up," I told them. "Search every room in the house. Anywhere he could be hiding."
I ran to his bedroom first while the others checked downstairs. Everything seemed to be in place. I quickly went through his dresser, looking for anything that might help. Socks. Underwear. I stopped at the top drawer. It was filled with red rose petals. There must have been thousands of them.
"What the..."
My phone's ringtone interrupted the panicked silence. I answered it to hear Lucy's screeching voice.
"Where have you been? Don't you know how to use your phone? I've been calling and calling!"
"Lucy, I'm sorry. I meant to call you back. I heard about Melbourne."
She paused. "What about him? Is he okay?"
"Yeah, he's fine. I t
hought... isn't that why you've been calling? To tell me that Margaret Binford and her cronies went berserk at Coffee Cove?"
"They did?"
Uh oh.
"If that's not why you were calling, then what is it?" I asked, a new dose of panic settling deep inside my chest.
"I remembered."
It took me a full minute to understand what she was saying.
"Where you were last week?" I asked.
"It all came rushing back to me, just like Amanda said it would."
"Luce, that's great!"
"No, it's not."
"What do you mean?"
"I know who took me."
"Who?"
"Anastasia Peacock."
* * *
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
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I was screaming into Aunt Eleanor's voicemail as I flew down the street. "Aunt Eleanor! I'm on my way to The Alchemic Stone. Get Sheriff Knoxx and meet us there."
I lost my balance when a squirrel ran down a tree and cut me off. I jumped over it and just managed to keep from falling flat on my face.
"Anastasia's got my dad," I huffed into the phone. "Call Lucy. She'll explain everything." I hung up and winced as my lungs began to ache.
Now I understood why Lucy had been so upset when I'd failed to answer her calls. Thank the witching world that she'd finally gotten her memory back. All along I'd been saying that Anastasia was behind the disappearances. All along I'd been right.
I'd sent Snowball, Tootsie, and Rocky to Coffee Cove in case Lucy couldn't get ahold of them.
I had no idea what Anastasia planned to do with my father. Lucy said that she'd kept her locked up in a basement. She'd fed her and given her a mattress to sleep on, but she'd also used some sort of spell to keep her under control.
Lucy still had little memory of what she'd actually done while Anastasia had her under lock and key. Had she slept all day and night? Had Anastasia forced her to perform horrible acts she'd rather not remember? Perhaps she'd used some of Lucy's blood in a ritual of dark magic.
When I'd gone to The Alchemic Stone the other day, I'd heard a creak as Anastasia slowly descended the stairs off her backroom. Had she been going to the basement, prepping things for my father even then? Or had she already captured some poor other soul—another goblin, maybe?—who hadn't been able to fight off her dark magic.
I tried Trixie's cell—no answer. Sheriff Knoxx—out on a call. Dr. Dunne—in surgery. Lucy's parents weren't letting her out of the house anytime soon, even though she was a year older than me. I was on my own. By the time I got to The Alchemic Stone, I'd decided there was only one way to handle the situation. Complete and total surprise.
I went in through the front door. Anastasia was behind her counter.
"Ava," she said when she saw me. I didn't give her a chance to say anything more. I tackled her like a football player, hurling myself over the glass counter. Her eyes widened in surprise before I nailed her against the wall. She didn't know what to do.
Mission accomplished.
"Ava, what in the whole wide witching world are you doing?" Her eyes were spitting fireballs at me. She struggled against my grasp but I refused to let her go. Anger has a funny way of giving a person strength.
"Where's my father?" I growled.
She stopped struggling and looked at me. She almost looked as alarmed as I was.
"He's gone?" she asked.
"Like you don't already know that. Go ahead. Play dumb. Lucy remembers everything." I overemphasized the last word, hoping to hide the fact that I was exaggerating. Lucy only remembered chunks, not details.
"I don't have any idea what you're talking about," Anastasia said.
I hesitated a moment. She looked so sincere. Then I spotted something behind her. Something I'd overlooked the many times I'd been here, but which Lucy had somehow taken notice of.
"Is that a green penguin?" I asked.
She turned her head slightly to see where I was pointing. On the back counter sat a small, ornamental penguin. Its oversized green head was staring at its feet.
"It's an ash container," Anastasia replied, launching into her saleswoman pitch. "I've only had it a week or so. You're one of the first to see it. It's at least a thousand years old. Used to be very popular with royalty." She was watching me from the corner of her eye.
"Lucy saw that," I told her. "While she was here. She couldn't have imagined it if you just got in last week."
Anastasia thought a moment, then kicked my toes. I bent over at the waist, yowling in pain.
She flicked her thumb in the air as if flipping an invisible quarter, and the room began to spin.
"Oh, warthog," I cried as I realized it wasn't the room spinning. It was me. Whatever charm Anastasia had just cast had lifted me off the floor. It was twirling me counterclockwise while I hung suspended in the air.
"Put me down!"
"I'm not doing anything of the sort," she said, coolly walking around the counter and stopping just under me. My hair was sticking straight out and my feet nearly touched the ceiling.
"You come barging in here throwing accusations at me, then expect me to answer your questions?" Anastasia moved her ring finger in a circle and it suddenly felt like I was riding a roller coaster.
"Flabascius cuckholum!" I yelled. It was the only spell I could think of.
Anastasia's feet began to dance in place. Loud burping noises erupted from the soles of her feet.
Anastasia's feet tried to climb the wall. She made it half way up then flipped over and landed on her back. Her feet continued to move, intent on making it up that wall.
Breaking Anastasia's concentration also broke her hold on me. I fell to the ground with a loud thump and suddenly everything was quiet. We both lay on the floor, panting.
"Where's my father?" I finally asked.
"I don't know."
"Liar! You took him like you took Lucy."
This time, there was no answer.
"She remembers being here. In your basement. She remembers seeing a green penguin. She remembers you keeping her locked up."
Anastasia did not move. Did not make a sound. I waited, hoping that somehow everything would be answered. That it would all be okay.
"It's not what you think," she finally said, sitting up. Her blond hair twirled around her head, and I suddenly realized something else I'd been missing.
"Oh, my roses. It's you. You're the woman I saw backstage the night Lucy disappeared. I thought it was Sara Sweetland's ghost, but it's been you all this time. I'm such an idiot."
"It's not what you think," she repeated, rising to her feet. "I had to take Lucy. To protect her."
"You kept her locked and chained twenty-four hours a day for a week straight!" I yelled.
"Well, sure, when you say it like that it sounds bad. But I promise you I—"
There was a loud thump from the floor beneath us. It rattled the whole house before striking again.
"What is that?" I asked.
"No idea," Anastasia said, but she couldn't meet my eyes.
"Is that my dad?" I asked, starting toward the back of the store. The sound was coming from the basement.
"No!"
"Who is it then? Who do you have locked up down there?"
She pulled on my arm as I ran past her and yanked hard enough to make me fly backward.
"Ugh!" I grunted.
"Stop it, Ava! You have to listen to me!"
"No. I don't," I said and pulled her hair like a two-year-old. Anastasia screamed as I kicked her in the chest with my feet. There was a door separating the backroom from the basement stairs. I opened it and ran down.
The metal door at the bottom landing was cold to the touch. It ran from floor to ceiling and looked like it had been newly installed. There was a massive padlock on the outside. It must have had some magical properties because when I touc
hed it my hand froze like an ice cube.
"Ignatio," I said and my hand immediately began to thaw.
Anastasia sailed down the stairs, jumping off the second to last step and landing with a thud. We faced each other. I could almost hear the announcer voice in my head. The craziest boxing match ever was shaping up. In the east corner, the older witch with an attitude. In the west corner, the newbie mood extractor.
Now what?
"Ava, please believe me. You don't know what you're doing. I don't have your father."
"But you did have Lucy."
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Yes. I had her, but it was for her own protection."
I laughed. "Sure. What about Pennyweather? And the goblins? You know, the people you killed? Was that for their own protection, too?"
Anastasia's face paled. "I... I..."
"You kidnapped my father because you're trying to help Polly take control of the witching world."
Her face tightened.
"That's not only idiotic, that's impossible. No one witch can control the world. No matter how powerful she is."
There was a soft scratching noise on the other side of the metal door. A deep voice accompanied it.
"Ava? Ava, honey, is that you?"
My head slowly turned toward the door.
"Dad?"
"Ava, please help me get out of here."
Without thinking about it, I spun back toward Anastasia and uttered the worst spell I could think of.
"Morte imbium!"
Anastasia fell to the ground in a lump.
* * *
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
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"Oh, my roses," I muttered. What have I done? "Anastasia?"
I started toward her but the voice from the other side of the door drew me back.
