by Lauren Quick
She pushed open the door to Wildwoods Wands and Woodwork. The scent of freshly cut wood wafted over her. She took a deep breath. Wildwoods was not only a shop for handmade wands; they also offered all kinds of wood furniture and crafts, and the interior resembled a forest of finely carved wood. Clover couldn’t help but admire a coffee table cut from a huge slice of redwood polished to a high shine.
The shop was owned by master woodcarver and wandsmith Wyeland Crane, and for as long as anyone could remember, he was considered one of the finest wand makers in Everland.
Wyeland Crane was tall and lanky. Long black dreads and beard trailed down his shoulders and chest, and his eyes were piercing ebony brown. He always wore a kind smile. “Good morning, Clover. I’m a little surprised to see you this early in the day.”
“I’m a little surprised to be here this morning myself.” She walked up to the counter and pulled the wands out of her purse. “I was hoping to get your help identifying some wands that were left at my party the other day.” Clover opened the silk scarf she’d wrapped them in and positioned them on the counter.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Wyeland narrowed his gaze and ran his dark knobby finger over one of the wands, finely carved with elaborate designs. Clover imagined the wand probably cost a fortune.
“I haven’t seen this one in a long time.” He squinted, examining the wand as he rolled the wood between his fingers. “A beautiful design I did on commission. I made this during my rosewood phase. See the delicate carvings around the handle. They help to capture and hold more magic in the wand.” His eyes sparkled with pride.
“I know it’s been a while, but do you have any idea who you sold it to?”
“I don’t need to remember. It’s all right here.” He pointed to the end of the wand, a section of the carving, and tapped. “See?”
She stared at the decorative marks. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”
“Initials. Can you see them?”
Too bad she wasn’t a mouse because then she would be able to read the delicate carving. She squinted. “I think it says…” Her stomach dropped. “OY.” Her head jerked up and she stared into Wyeland’s watery eyes. “Oliver Yearling. Are you serious?”
“Yes, dear. This is his wand. When I saw it, I suspected it was his and the initials confirm that.” His brow furrowed.
“I had no idea. I didn’t even know to look.” She was so busy searching for a culprit that it never occurred to her the wand would belong to the victim. Obviously it never occurred to Juniper, either. Had it really slipped even Austin’s mind to find one of his father’s wands?
“Don’t blame yourself. Witches and wizards have many wands, collecting them through the years. They use them for different types of magic or to keep in certain locations. One for work, one for play.” He smiled mischievously. “I’m all for it. The more wands, the merrier.”
“It’s good for business,” she said, still a little peeved at herself.
“Over the years Oliver purchased many wands from me. This is an older one. I doubt anyone close to him even noticed it was gone. It’s an easy oversight. I routinely carved initials into wands a long time ago, but then wands got fashionable and witches and wizards wanted to get new ones on a regular basis and wanted to sell the old ones. It’s rather difficult to sell something with initials carved in it, so now I only do that upon commission.”
“Makes sense.” Clover’s shock began to turn to excitement. She had Oliver Yearling’s wand this whole time. Finally, she had a clue that might tell her something important. “Can you tell me what spells have recently been performed by the wand?” Clover asked. If she could find out what spells Oliver had been casting, it might tell her more about what he was up to right before his death.
Wyeland arched his brow at her as she pleaded her case, telling him what had happened the last few days. Actually, she begged him to help her out.
“Well, technically, yes. I could do some tests. Normally, I wouldn’t do this for the sake of a wizard’s privacy, but after hearing the circumstances, I don’t have a problem with it. I don’t see you as a suspect in his murder and I abhor black magic. It’s a real shame someone came after you like that.”
“Thank you for understanding. Would you have time to check the wand today?”
He glanced around the shop, which was currently empty. “Since you’ve caught me at a slow time, I don’t see why not.”
A small brown squirrel crawled out from behind the wizard’s neck. It had been nestling in his long hair the whole time. “Would you mind getting the sign, Lily?” The squirrel chattered and flicked her bushy tail before racing across the wood beams of the shop and flipping the closed sign in the window. Next she shifted the bolt in the lock.
“Don’t want anyone walking in on us.”
Wyeland carried the wand over to his workbench and secured it into a wooden vise, holding the wand lengthwise. He slipped a pair of wire-rimmed glasses on his broad nose and pulled two thin birch wands out of his beard. Within seconds the room was filled with the sound of him muttering spells and the spellcraft began to take shape. Flashes of light and color appeared over the wand, and the wizard peered into the smoke that roiled in the air like small storm clouds only he could decipher.
A chill filled the room, causing goosebumps to race across Clover’s skin. She inched closer to get a better look at what was taking place, but suddenly Wyeland held up his hand to stop her.
“Stand back, please.” Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the cold air. His hands trembled, his gaze mesmerized by the cloud that formed strange shapes—a wild horse, a flock of starlings, a beaked creature that looked like a malformed crow, a twisted witch’s face, and a gaping mouth filled with abnormally sharp teeth. A wicked cackle echoed from inside the pulsing cloud. The dark cloud reminded her of the specter and the way it formed out of thin air, causing a flicker of fear to bloom inside of her stomach as she watched.
“What is it? What’s he been doing?” she asked. From the sight of the sooty cloud, it couldn’t be good.
Wyeland barked the counter spell and the cloud dissolved. He rested his head on his arms and took a moment. Clover found a pitcher and poured him a glass of water that he gulped down with shaking hands.
“I can hardly believe…if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. My old friend had been up to things. Strange things. He was doing advanced spellcraft and illusions. It’s not black magic, but it’s peculiar and tangled as if Oliver were creating hybrid spells to do strange things. But it doesn’t make sense. Why? I never knew him to be so devious and experimental.” He leaned wearily against the counter.
“One reason comes to mind. The labyrinth. He was trying to create new and bigger illusions for it.” That had to be it. Felicity said he’d been obsessed with it lately. “I’m sorry to put you through this, but I appreciate it greatly.”
Wyeland waved his wand and a small wooden disk appeared on the workbench. He placed the smooth disk, a conduit for the magical spells, in the palm of her hand. “Here, this contains a record of the spellcraft. I’d be careful with it, if I were you.”
Clover nodded. “Keeping it isn’t an option. I’m headed to the police station today.”
“Good luck, my dear.”
“What about the second wand? Do you know who it belongs to?” she asked.
Wyeland retrieved the pale blond wand from the counter, but made no motion to return it to Clover. “Yes, it belongs to Gwen Winter. She came into the shop yesterday looking for it, hoping someone turned it in to me. It was her only wand and she decided to purchase a new one as backup. She was frantic to get it back and made me promise to messenger her if I heard anything.” He rotated the skinny bone-thin wand between his fingers scrutinizing it.
No wonder that bony thing gave Clover the creeps—it belonged to the
ice queen witch herself. She turned up the corners of her mouth, trying to fake a smile.
“That’s good. I’m sure Gwen will be relieved to have it back.” Clover didn’t ask what spells she’d been doing lately, but she was dying to know. Gwen claimed it was her only wand, which could have been a lie. But since the wand was at Clover’s house the past few days, it probably meant that Gwen was not the one who performed the black magic spell on her front step, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t involved. Especially since she had a manipulative streak. Maybe Grady was doing her dirty black magic work for her.
“Tell Gwen that I found it in my yard, probably from the party, and I’m happy she’s getting it back. Also, just to let you know, I’ll have to tell Juniper about both of the wands. So fair warning. She might be by to take a look.”
“I have no problem turning over evidence in the case to law enforcement. Terrible what’s happened in our quiet little town, but wands never lie.” He glanced at Oliver’s wand in her hand with a mildly reproachful stare.
Clover smiled cordially and headed back out onto Main Street.
If this morning had taught Clover anything, it was that she couldn’t do this alone. Not anymore. It was time to join forces with Juniper and see if she couldn’t advance their cause. But first she made a little detour to Willow Realm’s busiest lawyer’s office. Derek was her next priority and she was going to secure the best lawyer gold could buy.
The law office was surprisingly quiet. The big test was tomorrow and she half-expected the place to be crowded with witches. Wilford Rutherford had gotten her letter and was happy to speak with her. After explaining the events that occurred since Oliver’s death, assuring him the contents of her closet were her private property, Clover was relieved when he took the case. She was even more relieved he didn’t push to find out what she was hiding. “We all have secrets, my dear. I learned a long time ago the fewer of them I know, the happier I am.”
He agreed to take Derek on as a client and Clover gave him a retainer in gold. He assured her he would stop by and speak with Derek that afternoon and not to worry. Mildly assuaged, Clover stopped by Nocturnes to pick up some soup and baked goods. It never hurt to bear gifts, especially when she was going to be eating a little crow.
A chorus of voices met her when she entered the lobby of the Willow Realm sheriff’s station. Honey Hardburn sat perched behind her reception desk, wearing a towering magenta-colored hairdo. She nodded when she saw Clover and sent a bird flying through the station. The large bird cage next to her desk contained about six finches, a paltry few, but within seconds three birds darted from the back of the station and landed on her desk.
“It’s been a madhouse this past week. You’re famous around here,” Honey said with a wink.
“I’m here to see Juniper.” Clover smiled.
“Oh, I know.”
After listening to one of the birds chirp frantically, Honey waved Clover back to Juniper’s desk. “She’ll see you now.” Not only was Honey a good receptionist, her persuasion enabled her to communicate with animals—or least with finches.
All eyes turned to watch as Clover walked the gauntlet of curious witch and wizard deputies and support staff. Juniper waved and motioned her toward one of the offices. It appeared a lot closer than it was in reality and took going around a few corners and down a few halls until they reached the actual room. The sheriff’s department was equipped with the latest spell deterrents, illusion rooms, and misdirection halls to throw off any ambush attempts or magical attacks from unsavory witches and wizards.
An impressive evidence board was mounted on the far wall. The evidence had a blurring spell cast over the information so Clover couldn’t see the details of the case, though from the amount of material, it appeared as if Juniper had accomplished a lot. Clover set her basket on the table. “I brought some food from Nocturnes for Derek and thought you might like some cake.” She pulled a few pieces of pound cake out of the bag.
“Thanks for the gesture, but I’ll have to pass. You can leave it for the deputies out front or Honey when you leave.” Juniper was all business.
Time to be agreeable, Clover thought.
“I’m glad you’re finally working with the sheriff’s department,” Juniper said. “I’ll try and understand why you didn’t come to me earlier. You have parts of your life that you want to keep secret. From the evidence I’ve collected, I realize you aren’t a murderer and aren’t being maliciously deceptive or I would have arrested you already.” She arched her brow.
“Thanks for that. I think. Whether you understand my motives or not, I’ve been trying to help.” Clover took a seat.
“What do you have for me?” Juniper asked.
“First, I wanted to show you one of the wands from the lost-and-found basket from my party. The ones that you left with me.” Clover pulled a thin bundle from her purse.
“Good. Did someone take the bait and come to collect them?” Juniper asked, joining her at the table.
“No. It seems that everyone is steering clear of my house since the party. So I took them to Wyeland Crane to try and identify the owner.”
Juniper’s spine stiffened. “I see. And what did he say?”
Clover untied the cloth and pushed the wand and wooden disk over to Juniper. “This wand belongs to Oliver Yearling and the disk contains the recent spells he’d cast using it. From what Wyeland told me, they aren’t pretty.”
Juniper narrowed her gaze, inspecting the wands. “Interesting. Austin assured me that all of his father’s wands had been accounted for. He didn’t mention this one.” Juniper laid the wand onto a page in her casebook and waved her hand over it. “I’ll take a look at the list of spells Wyeland gave you and have our tech wizard go over it again. Thanks for bringing it in.”
“Wyeland has the other wand still in his possession. It belongs to Gwen Winter and he plans on returning it to her, just so you know.” Clover wondered if leaving the lost-and-found basket of items, especially the wands had been a test. “Are you any closer to identifying a suspect?”
“I’d rather not burden you with the details.”
“I understand. I’ll tell you all I’ve found out, maybe it will help.” Clover spent the next few minutes filling Juniper in on all the details about what she’d learned. The deputy listened politely and recorded a few notes in her casebook.
“You’ve covered a lot of ground in the past few days. Are you angling for a new career as an amateur detective?” Juniper asked, lightening up.
“No, not really. I just wanted to clear my name before the warrant was issued. That’s all. Oliver and I weren’t close, but he was my neighbor.”
“What is your persuasion? If you don’t mind me asking. I’ve always been curious about your career and magical abilities.” An innocent smile spread on her face.
Clover’s stomach lurched. “I’m not much of a career witch. I garden mostly and sell vegetables and herbs at the farmers markets and local businesses.” She’d tried making soap and bath oils once as a cover story for a respectable job, but a witch who couldn’t bake an edible cake to save her life probably shouldn’t attempt making something that contained large quantities of scented oils. Her kitchen floor had ended up covered in oily spills. When Rusty innocently trotted through the kitchen, he got so coated in oil, he was as slippery as a seal and smelled like a vat of potpourri. Clover didn’t recommend bathing a fox.
Juniper was fishing for details about Clover’s life, and that witchy sixth sense of hers wasn’t helping. Clover shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Time to change the subject. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” Clover asked.
“No. But I’ve got some information on the black magic used at your house that I think might interest you.”
“Do you know who cast the circle?” Clover’s inter
est was piqued and she leaned inquisitively toward the casebook.
Juniper tapped a page with her wand and a few familiar images floated in the air. “We found residue from the brewery. Honey and barley mixed with a specific type of glass. I’m afraid it leads back to Bradley Adams.”
Clover’s stomach plummeted. She’d seen the amber glass in the circle, so she wasn’t entirely surprised the evidence pointed to Bradley. But she was having a hard time believing he could do such terrible things as black magic and murder. “That can’t be. His motive for killing Oliver Yearling is weak. It’s thin at best.” Her forehead wrinkled.
“Care to elaborate?” Juniper gave her a disapproving stare.
Clover raised her brow. “If you think he’s a suspect, then you know about his sister. She was hurt in an attempt to navigate the labyrinth. Nothing too serious, but it was enough to leave her a little traumatized. But it’s not worth killing over.”
“That’s your opinion. Wizards and witches will do a lot of things when pushed. You don’t know him well enough to say he isn’t capable of using black magic. That’s why I’m focused on the physical evidence.”
Juniper had a point.
“The evidence proves that the amber glass can be traced to his brewery, but that’s all. It doesn’t prove he did it,” Clover argued. “He could have been framed.”
“I’ll admit it’s circumstantial. But it doesn’t look good for him by a long shot. To be on the safe side, I want you to stay away from Bradley until we know more.”
Clover could agree to that, but it wasn’t always that easy. “I’ll try, but the last time I saw him was in town for the vigil. I can’t very well hide inside my house. In fact, tomorrow I’m going to the labyrinth to watch the inheritance claims play out. I’m sure I’ll see a lot of witches and wizards there.”
