Witch Bane and the Croaking Game

by Cat Larson

  “Uh, no thanks. I’m sure they’re very tasty, but I prefer to smell my flowers in lieu of drinking them.”

  Clare whacked him again. “Get her a large dark roast, pronto.”

  “No, that’s—”

  “And a double chocolate chip muffin.”

  “No, I—”

  She eyed me. “On the house.”

  I let out a long sigh. “You sure?” It did sound ah-mazing.

  “Of course, I’m sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem at all.”

  Zed handed me my cup, and I savored a long sip of the liquid nirvana. “I mean not just for today, but for… everything.”

  She smiled. “No problem. At all.”

  Who’d have thought Clare and I… Well, let’s just say that if someone had called us friends right then, I wouldn’t have had a problem with it.

  A delicious treat materialized in front of me, urging me to take a bite. I broke off a large piece and popped it in my pie hole.

  “How’re the wedding plans coming along?” I asked, voice garbled by muffin.

  Her face looked like I’d stuck a lightbulb in her mouth. “Oh, Samm.” She clasped her hands together. “Just splendidly. And the best part? We no longer have to leave town! I don’t have to sell my family heirloom. Isn’t that wonderful? Everything is just falling into place better than I could’ve ever dreamed, and it’s all because of the coat. I know it. Because of you!”

  She gushed everything out before I barely had a chance to swallow. My simple question had turned her into a spigot. “That’s really great, Clare. I’m happy for you.”

  I truly meant it too. Everyone should have the right to make a life with whomever they wanted. Now, whether I believed in the whole red coat/elven-marriage-lore thing was a whole different fairytale.

  But I believed that she believed it, and that was all that counted.

  “So, what can I do for you?” she asked. “Just name it.”

  “It’s not necessary to do anything. You already did a lot.” Like possibly saved my life, for starters. “Consider us even.”

  Her expression turned melancholy, and she lowered her head. “I did some not-so-nice things to you too.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t the most pleasant to you either, so that’s another area you can also consider us…” She looked so sad. I had to crank back up the Clare-in-the-box. “Wait, I just thought of something.”

  Her head snapped up, and she was acting like a dog with two tails again. “Yes, okay. Anything.”

  “Can I use your kitchen?”

  “My kitchen?”

  “I know it sounds a bit random, and I can’t ask Sage because she uses hers as a plant hospital or something, but I’d like to bake an apple pie for Mr. McGuinness as a thank you and—”

  “Say no more. Of course, you can come over!” She clapped. “How thoughtful of you. Such a kind gesture. Oh, Samm. I’m so glad you’re back, and so is she!”

  “It’s just temporary. And who is ‘she’?”

  “The town. So, when would you like to stop by? Anytime works for me. I even have everything there you’d need. You wouldn’t have to bring a thing!” Wow, was she jacked up or what? “Even if I’m working, it doesn’t matter. You can still come over whenever you want. Unless you want my help? Do you even know how to make a pie?”

  I nodded. I’d never win a bake-off, but I was sure I could handle it. I’d just have to stop at the library first and find a good recipe. And if she had all the ingredients and utensils at her place already? It could end up working out better than—oh wait.

  “Um, maybe I should reconsider.”

  Her face fell. “Why?”

  “I’m a little afraid of your cat.” More like ‘bring along a pack of diapers’ afraid, but I kept that to myself.

  She laughed. “Blossom? You have more of a reason to be afraid of that muffin you’re eating than my sweet girl.”

  “If you say so.” Bakery didn’t have sharp fangs and dagger claws that would attack my face if I got too near it.

  “If you just took the time to get to know her, I’m sure you’d love her the same as I do. But no worries. I can keep her in the bedroom when you’re there.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course.”

  “And she won’t be able to break out?” This was Catzilla we were talking about.

  She flicked her hand. “Oh, silly.”

  “Clare,” Zed called. “A little help, if you please.” There was a line forming, and even though he appeared chill about it, I doubted the customers shared the same sentiment.

  “We’ll talk more later.” She gave me a quick hug then darted back behind the counter.

  I took my drink and muffin to a table and enjoyed my goodies while I watched her flutter around. When she lifted her hair at one point, I looked for pointy ears. I didn’t find any. Elves were supposed to have pointy ears, right? I wasn’t sure. Maybe that was just a myth. Like witches having warts on their nose or Medusa having snakes in place of hair. Wait, that last one was true…

  What a ridiculous monologue I’m having with myself.

  When Clare had told me she was an elf, she probably hadn’t meant it literally. More like she was part of an organization or something. Like the Ancient Order of Elves. Same with the leprechauns. Their groups could’ve dated back hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

  “Excuse me?” I glanced up at the guy who’d just come to the side of my table. “Samm? Samm Hain?”

  He looked vaguely familiar. “Yes.”

  “Can I bother you for a few minutes of your time?”

  “Ah, sure. And you are?”

  He sat down, sticking out his hand. “Gavin. Gavin Greyson.”

  That name rang a bell and his identity quickly came to me. I’d seen him here at the café the previous week. Clare had told me his name and that he’d been a year above me in school.

  “Right. Hello. What can I do for you, Gavin?”

  “Well.” He pulled out a picture and handed it to me. An actual picture. Not many people carried those around anymore. Usually, they just whipped out their phones. “Have you seen this woman? I’ve been asking everyone.”

  I studied the photo. A girl with round eyes and dark blonde hair smiled at me, her thin face appearing even more elongated by the pin-straight strands hanging past her shoulders. She looked to be in her early twenties, but I didn’t have the best track record when it came to judging ages in Bigfoot Bay. She could’ve been eighty.

  I held out the picture. “I’m sorry. I haven’t… Wait.” I snatched it back. “Is this the missing girl? Penelope Green?”

  He nodded. “She’s a dear friend of mine. I’m just trying to find some answers, that’s all.” He ran a hand over his crew cut.

  “Again, I’m really sorry. I wish I could say differently, but I haven’t seen her.”

  “Okay. Thanks for your time.”

  He stood and moved on to another table. Poor guy. He looked like he’d just been trampled, and considering the circumstances, why wouldn’t he?

  I took off shortly after that with umbrella in hand, thanks to Clare. She’d only gotten busier, and my food had happily disappeared into my stomach. There was no reason to stick around any longer. I was eager to get back to Violet’s and open the box.

  As I walked out the door, popping open my umbrella, a group of guys entered. I made brief eye contact with one of them before diverting my gaze. Tommy Duran. I didn’t want to give him the false impression that I wanted to go back in and chat.

  “Samm…” His friends pushed him inside before he said anything else. A glance through the window showed them navigating toward Gavin; the four of them turning to stare straight at me. Strange. But then maybe I was the strange one standing in the rain spying through a window.

  I pivoted, heading to the shop. I hadn’t known Gavin was friends with that bunch. I’d recognized the other two with Tommy as the ones who’d been at McGuinness Inn the day
prior to St. Patrick’s Day, but I was pretty sure Gavin hadn’t been amongst them. Not that it mattered in the least, but at least the idle chatter kept my mind off the cold rain.

  I was a couple of buildings away from my destination when I thought I heard my name. I paused then figured it was just the splattering raindrops.

  “Samm.” I stopped again and peered around. That was not the rain. “Psst! Samm.”

  What the heck? “Who’s calling me?” It was hard to see anything through the rivers streaming down off the ends of my umbrella. “Who’s there?” I asked, a bit louder.

  Someone grabbed my arm, and I was yanked into the alley between the ice cream parlor and another closed gift shop.

  Holy sphinx… A black-hooded figure stood before me. If it weren’t for the glitzy sunglasses, I would’ve thought death had come to call.

  I swung my umbrella at it, grateful I had some form of weapon at my disposal, but the person—or whatever it was—reached out and grabbed the end. Oh crud. Some weapon.

  “Samm, please. Don’t be afraid.” The voice was soft and female, but I still couldn’t make out a face.

  “Who are you? Tell me right now before I scream.”

  “Calm down and listen to me. I don’t have much time.”

  Her head swiveled around as if expecting something to vault out of the dumpster before pulling down her hood, exposing stick-straight hair. Next to lower were her rhinestone sunglasses that’d been shielding half her thin face. I almost passed out on the spot.

  “In danger,” she whispered.

  “You’re… um…” I could barely force the words from my throat.

  “I shouldn’t even be here with you, but I had no choice.”

  “Penelope?”

  She nodded. “I’m in hiding.” I wanted to tell her that if she was hoping to remain inconspicuous, she might want to ditch the sparkling beacon on her face. “She can’t know I’m talking to you.”

  “Who can’t know?”

  She tugged up her hood and covered her eyes, bolting away but not before dropping a bomb on me.

  “Regina is back.”

  Chapter Five

  Regina is back?

  “Wait!” I screamed. The girl darted out the other side of the alley. “She had no choice? Why?” I whispered to no one but the rain.

  The rain. I blinked up, getting an eyeful and clouding my vision. It rivaled the entire exchange I’d just had. Could it have been any vaguer?

  I began the short trek back to the shop, not even bothering to put up my umbrella. Why bother? Drenched was drenched. I already felt and no doubt resembled something that’d just crawled out of a toilet bowl. Despite a previous remark I’d made to my mom, alleys in Bigfoot Bay were not carpeted and curtained.

  But at least Penelope was alive and (somewhat) well. Clarisse was going to pay for her sick joke. I wanted her to disinvite me from her party just so I could show up and crash it hard.

  An even bigger issue—why did the girl come to me?

  I would’ve never known who she was if not for the picture Gavin just showed me. Gavin. I really should go back to the coffee house and tell him what happened. Ease his mind. It was the right thing to do. But if I didn’t change out of this pneumonia-loving dress soon, I could be the next in line to catch my death.

  Dang it.

  I ran back down the street, splashing and slipping in puddles, nearly wiping out until it crossed my mind how much easier it’d be if I just took off my flip-flops. My water-repulsed frog was staying dry inside my lined purse, but no one wanted a dry pancake. I pulled off my shoes and continued on.

  In Danger.

  Did Penelope mean she was in danger, or was I? Since she was the one in hiding, I could only assume she was referring to herself, but weren’t she and Regina supposedly good friends?

  Then again… Why bother telling me anything at all if she wasn’t doing so to warn me? As Damon said, I had zero dealings with the woman. Maybe Gavin would have some insight.

  I got to the café in record time, peeked through the window, and argh! I clenched my fists. He. Was. Not. There. Just great.

  I hightailed it back to Violet’s, deciding not to plan any further moves until I had a hot shower behind me. After freeing Fernando from his purse-shaped raincoat, I cranked on the water and stepped in the stall.

  Griffin. I should really talk to him about all this. I stood under the pulsating stream, the steamy bathroom having a clearing effect on my murky head. He hadn’t known I’d “overheard” his and Damon’s conversation, but surely, I could confide in him. At who better? He knew Regina well—ick—and would know what she was capable of and possibly have an idea why Penelope had sought me out to begin with.

  Or perhaps, Penelope wasn’t seeking me out at all? Nothing she said had indicated it had anything to do with me directly. I simply could’ve been in the right place at the right time. The first one to cross the alleyway. Now, how she knew me by name was anyone’s guess, but then how many people in Bigfoot Bay had remembered me when I hadn’t been able to return the favor?

  Okay. Much better. Any residual tension merged with the water and emptied down the drain. Between my reassuring self-talk and my newfound physical comfort, I was a whole new person.

  I slipped out of the shower and into some warm, dry clothes. Then I tried calling Griffin and ended up leaving a voice mail prior to settling down on the bedroom floor. As expected, Fernando was under the bed on top of the box.

  I dragged it out and he leaped into my lap. “Shall we?”

  He half croaked, half burped. I took that as a yes.

  If Griffin didn’t get back to me within another hour or so, I’d get a hold of Clare. She might know how to reach Gavin. Until then, I had a box to open.

  I zeroed in on the keypad carved into the wood. Hmm. Was the code seriously my birthday? It was semi-touching—in a hacker’s dream sort of way. If only family could open it, did that really make it any safer? Did family in this instance mean immediate or fourth cousins, twice removed? Blood relatives only or did in-laws count too?

  Stop stalling, Samm. I punched in 1031. Oh yeah, did I ever mention my birthday is October 31?

  Samhain Eve. Otherwise known as Halloween. It matches my given name. Cute, eh?

  Considering my mom had my symbolic namesake picked out before I was born, it makes you wonder if she’d orchestrated the whole thing. And to top it off, I was born at 10:31 p.m. Coincidence, Mom? I don’t think so. And she said no spells for personal gain. Hilarious.

  Fernando jumped up and did a high swan dive off my shoulder, catching my attention. Right. The box. I tried the lid and… it opened.

  Why that surprised me, I didn’t know. Maybe I thought my birthday couldn’t possibly have been right because it was just too ridiculous and irresponsible. Oh yeah, Violet had picked it out. It was perfect.

  CROAK!

  Wow, Fernando was testy. “Relax, big guy. I’ll have your favorite spot back before you know it. Is it that horrible to sit on my lap instead?” I flicked him an annoyed look. Maybe I was the testy one. Disagreeable days were starting to become my new norm.

  Well, here goes nothing. I stared down into the box, and while my mom had been correct about there being a book inside, it sure didn’t look like anything worth protecting. It looked like something I could’ve picked up at the local drugstore for a dollar.

  I grabbed the spiral-bound notebook with the plain black cover while Fernando had a conniption around me. “Settle down,” I hissed.

  I was on edge for whatever reason, and he wasn’t making me any less so, but when I looked at his sweet face, I instantly softened.

  “I’m sorry. Just don’t hop around so much, okay? It’s making me nervous.”

  I took a deep breath and opened it to the first page. Blank. Second page. Blank. Third. Blank. What? I flipped through the entire thing.

  Blank, blank, blank.

  Well, that was anticlimactic. It was nothing more than a simple unlined sketc
hbook. Sorry, Mom. Maybe the so-called family grimoire had gone into the box before you left the country, but that wasn’t what I was holding now.

  I stood with the book clenched in my hand. I was willing to entertain one more possibility. Maybe the pages were written in invisible ink, and I needed a secret decoder pen like I’d had as a kid. If so, I’d be able to detect a faint discoloration. I brought it over to a light, but the bulb was too dim. Every bulb in this place was too dim.

  “What do you have against 75-watt lightbulbs, Violet?” I yelled into the room. “And while we’re at it, what about cellphones and computers and microwaves and anything else that brings us into the twenty-first century?”

  Ugh. I stomped out of the bedroom to grab a flashlight. At least I knew she wasn’t opposed to those since I saw one around somewhere. Fernando hadn’t followed me. He was too busy making a game out of the open box, jumping in and out of it. Whatever floats your lily pad.

  After finding the flashlight on the bottom shelf behind the counter, I shined it directly over several pages. Nada. Laughter bubbled out of me then; it seemed like an appropriate response to my mom’s orders. “You must open the box, Sammara,” I mumbled. “You must find that spell. You must locate Violet.”

  Well, I wouldn’t be doing it with a blank sketchbook. Now, if she wanted me to doodle her a picture and—

  Bang bang bang. My head whipped toward the door. “Samm, open up.”

  I tossed the book onto the counter and shut the bedroom door since Fernando was still playing hide-and-seek with himself.

  I opened the door with a big smile. Might as well get this over with. “Officer Damon, how lovely to see you again, darlink,” I said in my best Clarisse impression.

  He charged in. “Not the time, Samm.”

  “Your hostility is so unbecoming.”

  “I said—Not. The. Time.”

  “Whoa. Okay.” I held up my hands in mock surrender. “Just lightening the mood.” Which was no small feat when Damon and I were in a room together. “No need to get your blue undies in a twist.”

  “You told me you didn’t know her.”

  “Clarisse?”