“More water?” Millie groaned. “My palms are too sweaty to grab the poles. I’ll never make it across.”
“Same here.” And the poles were smooth. We’d slide right down into the frothing water below.
Millie exhaled loudly. “Okay, we have to approach this like witches. Lady Weatherby wants us to use magic to get out of the maze, not brute strength.”
“Any suggestions? You have more experience thinking like a witch than I do.” I was still coming to grips with the fact that I was a witch.
Millie scrutinized the dangling poles. “If we can use magic to bend the poles together, they’ll form a stirrup.”
“Spell’s bells, Millie,” I said, sounding like a real witch. “That’s brilliant. Then we can step across.” We’d still need to be careful, but our chances were far better than trying to grip the poles and risk sliding into oblivion.
She whipped out her wand and pointed it at the poles. “What rhymes with stirrup?”
“Not much,” I admitted. “Try one that doesn’t rhyme.”
Millie looked uncertain. “Maybe you should do it. You’re better at that than I am.”
Wow. A compliment from Millie. Where was my calendar? “I’m happy to try.”
I stepped forward and brandished my wand. “Poles to stirrups will carry us across this treacherous path.”
The poles began to creak and bend. We watched in disbelief as the two rows reached toward each other and melded together to form a row of U shapes.
Millie moved to the edge, ready to go.
“Take your time,” I said. “The poles are still smooth. It would be easy for a foot to slip.”
“Same to you,” she replied. She gripped the sides and hoisted herself onto the first stirrup. I waited until she was a third of the way across before I followed.
“I hope the other girls are having an easier time,” I said, struggling to ignore the boiling water below. Sweat oozed from every pore. I couldn’t wait to take a shower later.
I breathed a sigh of relief when Millie made it to the other side.
“Only three more,” she said encouragingly.
I placed my foot in one stirrup, and then another. When I reached the other side, I longed to collapse in a heap.
“Come on, Emma,” Millie said. “We can do it.”
We pushed through a set of inflatable doors and sunlight washed over us. Momentarily blinded, I tripped and fell to my knees directly in front of a familiar set of pointy, black shoes.
“Congratulations,” Lady Weatherby said. “You finished more quickly than I expected.”
Millie helped me to my feet. The other girls were already outside.
“I guess we didn’t win,” I said. I hoped Millie didn’t blame me for the loss.
Lady Weatherby looked down her straight nose at me. “On the contrary. I think we can agree that you are all winners today. Class dismissed.”
In one swift movement, she took off on her broomstick before I had a chance to ask a follow-up question.
“You were in there forever,” Begonia said. “What happened?”
“You mean aside from the scalding pool of water and the impassable wall?” I asked.
Begonia blinked. “Really? Ours was just an inflatable obstacle course. It was fun. I got to bludgeon Sophie with one of those foam mallets.”
Millie and I exchanged glances. So this whole ordeal had been for our benefit.
“I didn’t say a word,” I said quietly. I didn’t want Millie to think I’d reported her.
“I know you didn’t,” Millie said. “Lady Weatherby has a way of knowing things, though. You’ll see.”
“Truce?” I asked.
Millie hesitated. “Thanks for not snitching. I’m sorry I ruined your date with Demetrius. I didn’t know exactly when the spell would kick in.”
“You didn’t ruin it at all,” I said. “And I burned the voodoo doll, by the way.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Definitely for the best,” I said. “Except for the acorn boobs, she looked nothing like me.”
Chapter 12
On Thursday evening, I found myself back at the church for another hour of harp therapy. Thanks to the cookie incident on Tuesday, I hadn’t had much opportunity to gather information on Jolene.
“Emma Hart, what a pleasant surprise. Please come in.”
I was thrilled to recognize the lilting voice of Maeve McCullen. The stars were in alignment.
“Nice to see you again, Ms. McCullen,” I said.
“Do call me Maeve. Are you here to play?” Her strawberry blond ringlets were as perfectly coiled as I remembered.
“I came on Tuesday and really enjoyed it,” I said. I omitted the part about the cookies. “Since I have you in front of me, can I ask you a quick question?” No one seemed to be paying us any attention so it seemed safe.
“Sure,” Maeve replied. “Fire away.”
“Can you see ghosts?”
She twirled a piece of hair around her finger. “Of course, I’m a banshee. Spellbound is full of ghosts.”
Yet I’d only seen Gareth.
I dropped my voice. “Would it be possible for you to drop by my house one day, when you’re not too busy? There’s someone who’d like a word with you.”
Maeve eyed me curiously. “You can communicate with Gareth?”
I nodded.
“How interesting.” She gazed into my eyes like she was searching for something. “I would love to come and see him. I was terribly fond of Gareth.”
“He says the same about you.”
A church bell clanged. “Time to get started, everyone,” Maeve said.
“There’s an empty seat next to me,” a woman said, waving me over. Jolene’s former seat, presumably.
“You look familiar,” I said to the woman as I sat down beside her. Her skin looked as weathered as my grandmother’s leather purse, the one she carried every day until her death.
“Phoebe Minor,” she said. “We’re neighbors.”
“Of course.” Phoebe was a harpy—sister of Marisol and daughter of Octavia, the sharp-tongued matriarch.
“I’ve been meaning to drop by and introduce myself,” Phoebe said. “Time gets away from me.”
In Spellbound, residents had nothing but time. “I think you were at the Shamrock Casino when I stopped by to introduce myself.”
Phoebe nodded, busily strumming her harp strings. “I’m a regular there. Those leprechauns know a thing or two about customer service.”
“I’ll have to make it over there one of these days,” I said. I’d never been to a casino in the human world. I never had enough money to gamble any away in the name of fun.
“Witches don’t usually show an interest in harps,” Phoebe said. “Just that weirdo Paisley.”
So Phoebe’s tongue was as sharp as the rest of her family’s. The radiation didn’t fall far from the nuclear plant.
“Why don’t witches like harps?” I asked.
“It’s not about the harp. It’s that they stick to themselves,” the woman on the other side of Phoebe said. She was built like a boulder with the face only a blind mother could love. “Good to meet you. I’m Sheena Stone.”
Stone. I recognized the name. “Are you related to Wayne?” Wayne was another council member as well as an accountant.
“I’m his sister,” she said.
That explained it. Sheena was a troll.
“Well, I’ve met so many interesting people,” I said. Okay, not exactly people. “It seems silly to stick to the coven.”
Sheena seemed to like my answer. “That was Jolene’s attitude too.”
I grabbed the opportunity. “Jolene, the werewolf?”
Sheena nodded. “The pack tends to be insular, but Jolene wanted to mix with everyone. She loved coming here.”
Phoebe shushed her. “That’s enough, Sheena. Emma doesn’t want to be reminded that she’s sitting in the chair of a dead werewolf.”
“I don�
�t mind,” I said. “Did you know Jolene well?”
“Well enough,” Sheena said.
“You need to look at your sheet music,” Phoebe said. “You won’t learn anything if you just sit here yammering.”
Actually, there was a chance I’d learn everything I wanted to know if we sat here yammering, but I could see that was too risky.
The troll seemed less interested in being judgmental and more interested in being helpful. A good sign.
“I don’t know how to read music,” I admitted.
“Then how do you expect to play an instrument?” Phoebe snapped.
Sheena jumped to the rescue. “I can help you, dear.”
“Thanks, Sheena,” I said. “That would be great.”
Sheena shot the harpy a triumphant look. I had a feeling those two were competitive over more than my approval.
“I guess Jolene was getting excited about her wedding,” I said, careful to keep my tone casual.
“Who knows?” Phoebe said. “The girl talked about as much as a mute.”
“Not true,” Sheena said. “She just didn’t talk to you. She didn’t trust you not to blab to your family.”
“Was there something to do with the wedding that she didn’t want people to know?” I asked.
“For one thing, she didn’t want a whole big affair,” Sheena said. “She didn’t like the whole pack coming to witness the ceremony.”
“She said she wanted it to be more intimate,” another voice chimed in.
“That’s right,” Sheena said. “You spoke to her about it, didn’t you?” Sheena jerked her head toward the young woman. “This one can tell you. Emma, meet Susie. They compared wedding notes every week.”
“I was married last year,” Susie said. She sighed blissfully. “Still feels like yesterday.”
I scooted my chair over toward the newlywed. “So what did you two compare notes about?”
“Why?” Phoebe asked. “Thinking about getting married soon?”
“I just love weddings,” I enthused. A bald-faced lie. I avoided weddings like the plague, usually because I didn’t have a date and didn’t want to go alone.
“Too bad there won’t be one,” Phoebe said. “Not that you’d get invited to a pack wedding. They’re strict about outsiders attending anything related to the pack.”
I focused my attention on Susie. “I bet Jolene was really looking forward to life with Alex,” I said. “He’s one good-looking guy.”
The sound of swooning swirled in the air. All of the women’s expressions grew dreamy.
“Alex is a slice of beefcake I’d like a bite of,” Phoebe growled. Not what I was expecting to hear from the older harpy.
“Did Jolene have any competition for Alex’s affections?” I asked.
“Hard to say,” Sheena said. “Once the pack made it clear they intended for him to marry Jolene, nobody had the chutzpah to make a play for him.”
“He never would have married outside the pack anyway,” Susie said. “Alex is a leader, but he respects the rules.”
“So not even another shifter?” I asked. I wasn’t sure how many types of shifters there were in Spellbound.
“Definitely not,” Phoebe scoffed. “Werewolves consider themselves the top of the shifter food chain. For someone like Alex, a wereferret would be unthinkable.”
Even though everyone was saying that witches were insular too, I knew for a fact they could marry other supernaturals. It was one of the first questions I’d asked—not that I had anyone in mind, of course. I was only twenty-five.
“I heard Jolene wasn’t sure about the marriage,” I said. “Is that true?”
“You wouldn’t know it from the way she talked about their future together,” Susie said. “She even had names picked out for their three future daughters—Nanette, Babette, and Jeanette.”
I winced. “Cute names.”
“Ridiculous names,” Phoebe spat. “That’s one problem avoided thanks to her death.”
Having met Octavia, her mother, Phoebe’s bitter attitude was hardly surprising.
“Enough chatter,” Phoebe said. “Let’s get back to the music. It’s not like Myra will give us extra time. She’s always waiting by that Godforsaken door with the key.”
Sheena put a finger to her lips. “Phoebe, we’re in a church. It can’t possibly be a Godforsaken door.”
Distracted by their conversation, I caught my fingernails on the harp’s strings and pulled away, creating a cringe-inducing sound.
Phoebe’s hands flew to cover her ears. “Someone teach this girl how to play. I’m here to relax. Goodness knows I hear enough screeching in my house.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Maybe I’ll just listen tonight.”
“Not as dumb as you look,” Phoebe muttered.
Phoebe’s abrasive personality aside, I could understand why Jolene liked attending these classes. Although I didn’t recognize any of the music I heard, it didn’t matter. The soothing sounds put me in a pleasant trance, where my concerns faded to the background. I stopped thinking about Jolene, broomsticks, Daniel—all the worries that plagued me. I was almost catatonic by the end of the session.
“We’ll see you next week,” Sheena said, giving me a gentle shake.
I blinked and looked around the room. Nearly everyone was gone.
“Did I fall asleep?” I asked.
“Not exactly,” she said with a smile. “We call it the harp hangover. Much more pleasant than the other kind.”
It certainly was. Although I’d come here to investigate Jolene’s death, I knew I’d be back after the case was resolved. One positive result from a negative situation. On the way out of the church, I paused by the altar and silently thanked Jolene for leading me here.
After class the next day, I decided to stop by the bookstore in the town square. It had been years since I'd set foot in a bookstore. In the human world, I read e-books so there was no need.
The store was a comfortable size—not too big, not too small. There were sofas scattered throughout the store, encouraging customers to linger. Juliet was easy to spot. At six foot tall, the Amazon stood out. Her gaze fell upon me, and I saw the flash of recognition in her eyes.
"Miss Hart, I was wondering if I’d ever see you in here," she said. She came out from behind the counter to greet me.
"Good afternoon, Miss Montlake," I said. “I’m sorry it’s taken me this long. I loved to read in the human world, but here I’ve only had time for law books.”
“And what are you interested in finding here?”
"Do you have any books on the history of the town and its residents?” I asked. Werewolf pack culture and Linsey’s case had highlighted the gaping hole in my general paranormal knowledge. "I thought it might be handy to keep a copy at home so that I can read up on it when I have spare time." A library book would be due back long before I could finish it.
"There are a few options," she said, steering me toward the nonfiction section. "The two most popular titles are in here." She plucked two books off a middle shelf. "This one was written by a wizard named Theodore Dazzle. The other was written by a vampire called Lazarus. No last name."
So he was the Madonna of the vampire set. "Are they both still living?"
"I'm afraid not," she said. "Theodore died of old age, which is rare, but it happens. Lazarus died during an argument with a werewolf many years ago."
"That must've been one serious argument," I said.
"A sad state of affairs, really," she said. "Before that happened, the different species in town seemed to be working well together. After Lazarus died, the pack closed ranks. That's when they started carving out territory in the Pines and the other forested areas."
"Oh, I had assumed it was always like that."
"It seems to only be getting worse," Juliet said sadly. "The ordinances haven't done us any favors. It's only appeased the residents who complained about shifting and trespassing in the first place."
"The vocal minority," I sai
d. Yes, we had plenty of that in the human world as well.
Juliet handed me the books. "Take them," she said. “No charge."
"I can't do that," I said. "You won't be able to stay in business if you give books away for free."
"This store is a labor of love. If I want to give away books, I'm perfectly happy to do so." Her focus shifted to a different section of the store. "While you're here, I have a few other books that might be of interest."
Books of interest to me? I was eager to see what she had in mind.
I followed her across the store to the section labeled ‘witches and wizards.’
"I have a number of books on covens in particular," she said. "I thought you might be interested in researching your heritage."
I stared at the rows of books in front of me. "I wouldn't even know where to begin," I said. "Other than the fact that I'm a witch, I know nothing about my family's origin."
Juliet clucked her tongue. "You know that your familiar is an owl, rather than a cat. That’s not a trait of the local coven.”
And I could see ghosts. Still, it didn't give me enough information to go on. "Where would I start? By checking the indexes of each book to see whether they mention owls as familiars?"
This was where technology would come in handy. A simple online search would reveal any covens associated with owls or psychic abilities. Too bad Spellbound wasn't plugged in.
"I suppose it will be labor intensive," she said. "But I would imagine it will be well worth it."
I felt like she was going to tell me that knowledge was its own reward. Unfortunately, my schedule didn't currently allow for rewards like that. Knowledge would have to wait.
"Take these for now," Juliet said. "Come back when you have more time. There are also books in the library that might help you."
"I was told that you know a lot about the town's history," I said. "Have you read all of these history books?"
"I have," Juliet admitted. "As I think I told you when we met in the Great Hall, there are different versions of events, particularly surrounding the curse itself. The accounts in these books cover what came immediately after. If you look hard enough, though, there are clues to the curse."
Doom and Broom (Spellbound Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 12
