Seashells, Spells & Caramels: A Cozy Witch Mystery

by Erin Johnson

  “Imogen? Earth to Imogen?”

  Iggy’s voice startled me.

  “Sorry, head in the clouds.” The pantry, was more like it. I crouched in front of Iggy and pulled out a tray of sugar cookie balloons.

  “If that is meant to be a pun on your bake, I’ll burn the next batch,” Iggy growled.

  In the end, I barely finished on time, though I felt exceedingly proud of our hot air balloon city with its fluffy white clouds, gold-and-purple balloons, and amber bridges of spun sugar.

  Pritney had made cupcakes that shone like gold and diamonds, Hank had created a scene of cupcake nests with bird cookies of all shapes and sizes and chocolate eggs, and Maple had baked hers to look like sea anemones and puffer fish.

  As usual, she hung her head and wrung her hands next to me. “They’re going to taste like rubbish.”

  I nudged her with my shoulder. “You say that every time and every time the judges love what you’ve made.”

  “Not this time, I just know it.” She shook her head and sighed.

  I bit back a grin. The girl was going on to the finals, I had no doubt of that. From the beginning she’d been the clear winner in my book. Creative, talented, and she knew her stuff. I, on the other hand, could definitely be cut. I waited with bated breath as the judges made their way down the short line. They found Pritney’s display impressive.

  When they got to Maple she shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

  Rhonda raised a finger. “If you say that one more time, you will be.”

  Maple raised her eyes and grinned. They pronounced her cupcakes delightful.

  I came next. I told them about my inspiration. They peered at it. “Quite close really, for never having been to the Air Kingdom,” Francis said.

  “I quite like Imogen’s version better,” Rhonda chuckled. They picked a cupcake and cut it open for a taste test. I watched carefully for any facial expressions that would give away their feelings as they chewed.

  At first they each frowned, then their foreheads smoothed, their eyes grew hooded, and they turned toward each other. Tall, pale, skinny Francis stared for a long moment at short, dark Rhonda—and then they lunged at each other.

  My first instinct was that they’d gone mad and were killing each other, but the reality struck me as even crazier. They kissed, deeply, passionately, locked in each other’s arms.

  “By the great sea mother,” Amelia breathed.

  Suddenly, with lips still locked, it was if a spell had broken. They opened their eyes wide, stared at each other, and then yanked apart. Francis shuddered and Rhonda screamed and shook her hands like I would if I’d just seen a cockroach. Panting, they came back to themselves, then rounded on me.

  “What did you put in that?” Rhonda demanded.

  “A lot of sexual tension, is my guess,” Francis drawled.

  “What? I— Just flour and sugar and—” I stopped. It had never occurred to me before, but maybe I performed a little magic sometimes when I baked, without realizing it. Maybe I had put some of what I’d been feeling into those cupcakes. And I’d certainly been feeling a lot of tension and desire.

  I could definitely not admit that right now, with Hank standing beside me and Nate watching from the medic’s corner. So instead, I just shrugged. “Maybe you just really liked them?”

  Rhonda squinted and Francis raised a slim brow. But they dropped it, thankfully, and moved on to Hank’s bake.

  “It tastes… confused,” Rhonda mused, around a mouthful. “It’s partly sweet, but partly sour… I’m not sure the flavors work together.”

  I glanced at Hank, but he stared straight ahead. I knew he could feel my eyes on him, but he refused to look my way. What was that about? After a short deliberation, the judges returned and spoke a few words to Amelia. Maple took my hand as we waited for the news.

  Amelia gave Hank a long, long look, then said, “You have all worked extremely hard and deserve to be proud of yourselves. Unfortunately, we can only have one winner, and the person who is out today is… Hank.”

  I turned to him. He refused to look at me, but the veins in his neck popped, and his broad chest heaved. He nodded at Amelia and the two judges. “Thank you for your time and consideration. It’s been an honor.” His words came out clipped.

  I reached up and lightly touched his arm with my fingertips. “Hank, I’m sorry, we’ll all miss—”

  He turned so quickly, I startled. He breathed heavily through his nose. “This was you. You got in my head, and I couldn’t keep things straight and—” He stepped toward me, dark eyes focused on my face. He leaned down, his face getting closer and closer to mine.

  Suddenly, he seemed to remember where he was and turned it into an awkward bow. He said his goodbyes to everyone else, then tossed his apron on the ground and stalked off across the field.

  “Congrats, ladies. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Amelia waved us good night, then jogged off after Hank.

  Rhonda drew Pritney, Maple, Francis, and me into a group hug. “All right, lovelies, rest up. Tomorrow’s the big day.” Normally, I was a fan of group hugs, but with Pritney cringing away from having to touch me, I couldn’t get out of that one fast enough. Rhonda turned to me as I walked off. “And Imogen.”

  I nodded.

  “Don’t ever make me kiss Francis again.” She lowered her voice and sidled closer. “Now if you want to give me and medic boy some of those cupcakes, I certainly won’t complain.” She wiggled her brows at Nate, and I turned. He gave me a nod and a thumbs-up as he packed up his bag.

  “Finals are tomorrow,” Rhonda sang as she skipped off, Francis hovering beside her.

  Finals. My stomach turned with nerves.

  24

  Finals

  The nerves hadn’t subsided the night before, as I lay in a cold sweat, tossing and turning and dreaming of being attacked by giant, angry muffins. And they certainly hadn’t eased up during breakfast or the first two hours of the contest.

  And when Amelia shouted, “Bakers, thirty minutes left. Thirty minutes!” my nerves caused me to dry heave. Luckily no one heard over the roar of the crowd. I glanced up at the hourglass. Focus, Imogen, it’s the final. My hands trembled as I pulled another tray of cinnamon rolls from the oven.

  I set the tray to the side to cool and touched a fingertip to my scones—pleasantly warm. I ducked back down to grab the bowl of butter I’d left near the oven to melt. I stayed for an extra few moments, grateful to hide from the roaring crowd on the other side of my station.

  Amelia had practically bounced like a toddler with a new toy when she told us that morning that the police had cleared security for the final and that we’d have a crowd again. They’d cast a new spell to repel all shifters, making a special exception for Francis.

  “Taking a nap? It’s the final, get to it!” Iggy sent a blast of heat out at me, and I snapped out of it.

  Back on my feet, I brushed the tops of the scones with melted butter and placed a purple and yellow pea flower on top, using the butter to glue them down. I worked as fast as my trembling hands would let me. I glanced up at the top row, at the boxes that held the Water Kingdom’s royalty. Still no dreamy Prince Harry.

  But today, some members of the Fire Kingdom’s royal house had joined them. A beautiful young woman and man, who looked like siblings, sat to the left of the king. The Water Kingdom wore blues and greens and silver, while the young man and woman stood out in reds and golds. Watching the royalty would not help my nerves. I kept working through the scones.

  “How are the muffins, Iggy?” I brushed butter onto another scone.

  “Nearly there. Few more minutes.”

  I glanced up at the nearly empty hourglass. Three hours had hardly been enough time to complete three different breakfast bakes. I just needed to finish these scones, glaze the cinnamon rolls, and finish baking the blueberry muffins, then plate them all on a three-tiered display. And I had…

  Fifteen minutes,” Amelia called out. “Fifteen minutes left in th
e final.”

  The crowd on the bleachers clapped and cheered. I spotted Maple’s family in the lower rows, her father yelling the loudest. “Go Maple!”

  I worked away, the next few minutes a total blur. And when Amelia called out, “Time’s up,” I teetered with my heavy display to the front table. I trembled with a mix of nerves and exhaustion. In any case, I’d done my all.

  I eyed my display—muffins golden brown and crumbly on top, cinnamon rolls a good color though I worried about the centers being cooked through, and the scones looked beautiful, though I’d messed up in a rush and torn a couple of the flowers. I’d put those scones in the back—hopefully Francis and Rhonda wouldn’t notice. When the two judges stepped out in front of the long judging table, the crowd erupted into applause.

  Francis nodded his long face, and Rhonda raised her arms, grinning and shaking her head. “No, no, do go on!” Eventually the crowd settled down, with one last, “Maple’s the best!” from her father. Maple’s cheeks turned a darker shade of pink, and I took her hand and held it in mine. She sighed and tipped her head to my shoulder.

  “I think I might collapse,” she whispered.

  “In front of your lover?” I batted my eyes in fake surprise, but she immediately straightened, fixing her blond milkmaid’s braid. I skimmed the crowd and found Wool and Bern sitting together with their respective families. Lillian and Zeke sat nearby. I didn’t see Hank, though. I took a shaky breath as Rhonda and Francis turned to us. My stomach clenched and twisted with nerves.

  “You ladies have worked very hard and deserve to be proud of yourselves. You all made it to the finals and you’re all winners!”

  I smiled at Rhonda. No matter what happened, I was proud of myself. The judges and the crowd cheered and clapped, but over the din I could still make out Pritney grumbling, “Yes, but who’s the real winner?”

  Rhonda and Francis started with Pritney. They nibbled at her mini quiche, licked pink frosting off her doughnuts, and wolfed down a cheese Danish each.

  “Pritney—umph—you’ve outdone yourself.” Rhonda’s eyes rolled back in her head.

  “Oh my.” Francis smiled like a cat. “And I don’t even like doughnuts.”

  Maple and I gave each other confused looks. Pritney had made it this far based on her precision and perfection. Each day the judges seemed unable to find any fault with her bakes, but they’d never seemed particularly wowed by them either… until now.

  Rhonda moved to Maple’s. “What have we here?”

  “I’ve made bread and then stuffed it with mascarpone and diced strawberries for french toast served with warm maple syrup.”

  My mouth watered. Though of course I’d done my best to win, in my heart I knew Maple deserved it and rooted for her.

  “I’ve also made bagels with cream cheese and a homemade blackberry jam, and lace pancakes.”

  I’d watched Maple drizzle the batter, singing one of her magical songs, to create beautiful, delicate pancakes in the shape of sea shells. I squeezed my friend’s hand as the judges picked at her creations, chewing and frowning.

  “Sorry, but we just don’t taste much of anything. We should be getting the sharpness from the berries and the creamy richness of the cheese, but….”

  “Nothing.” Francis shook his head, his long dark hair plastered down so much it didn’t move.

  “Nothing?” Maple’s voice quavered.

  Nothing? That couldn’t be right.

  “And the pancakes are just… rather bland. Bake and texture looks good, just lacking flavor.”

  My heart felt like it’d dropped into my stomach. How could that be? I tried to catch Maple’s eye, but she kept her gaze down at her shoes. The judges moved to me. I blinked at them, my feelings a jumbled mess of nerves for myself and indignation for my friend.

  They peeled off pieces of my cinnamon rolls, took bites out of the blueberry muffins and tried the scones. Rhonda shook her head. “Same here. Very bland flavors.”

  Bland? They’d never critiqued me for that before. I ran through all the ingredients in my head again. Had I forgotten to add something?

  “We’re in consensus.” Rhonda rose on her toes to whisper in Amelia’s ear.

  Already? I turned to Maple, but she kept her eyes down. I blinked at the crowd. This was moving too fast; something didn’t feel right. Amelia nodded and turned to the crowd, then to us. “We have a winner picked.”

  The crowd erupted into applause. I squeezed Maple’s hand. It didn’t look good for either of us, but there was still a chance… a very small chance.

  “And the winner is…”

  The crowd hushed to hear Amelia’s next words.

  “Pritney Pricehouse!”

  The crowd erupted and Maple and I dropped hands to clap. How could it be over? And like this? I felt like someone else took the bouquet of flowers Rhonda handed me as she said, “You did amazing. I’m so proud of you—you should be proud too.”

  I nodded, numb. Pritney squealed and hopped and snatched the blue apron with the Water Kingdom’s crest embroidered in silver on it from Francis. She threw it over her neck and tied the strings behind her.

  “I did it!” She grinned and waved at the crowd. “I did it. I’m the winner.”

  She sneered at us. Luckily, the look was lost on Maple, who continued to stare at her shoes.

  “Bland,” she muttered. “And on the final. Dad’s going to be so disappointed.”

  “If your dad’s disappointed, he’s daft,” I said, taking her by the shoulders and turning her to face me. “Because you have been incredible. You made it to the finals.”

  Amelia put a hand on Pritney’s shoulder and gathered us together. The crowd had already begun climbing down off the bleachers. I hoped Wool and Zeke and the others would wait around so we could say hello.

  “You may recall that the winner can choose to bring the two runners-up on board with them to work in the royal kitchens.”

  Amelia smiled back and forth between us and Pritney’s scowling face. “So Pritney, how about it? You going to bring these two hardworking ladies on as your staff?”

  Pritney squinted, and pursed her lips in a bad imitation of regret. “No. I’ve worked in the kitchens, if you remember, and I know what quality of people are necessary.”

  Amelia’s face fell. “Oh, uh, well, I suppose that is your prerogative.” She turned to us. “Sorry about that, girls. But I hope you come to the Summer Solstice Festival tomorrow. You’re both welcome to continue your stay at the house, we have it for one more night.”

  Amelia dashed off to deal with some logistical issue. The crowd now milled its way up to the tent, eyeing our bakes and taking nibbles of them. I stood, too stunned to be annoyed with Pritney or nervous about tons of strangers trying my bakes. I just couldn’t make sense of it.

  “This isn’t bland at all, it’s delicious!” Maple’s dad growled. “Delicious, I say. Where are those judges, this was rigged!”

  Maple blushed bright red, and I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of sight of her dad. We wound our way through the crowd, people recognizing us and clapping us on the shoulders or saying, “Well done!” I didn’t feel like being praised at that moment, though. I felt like crawling into bed and sleeping for three days. We wound our way to the only people who would understand that. I gave Lillian a big hug, and then Zeke. We filled them and Bern in on Glenn’s death and Sam’s escape. Maple continued to sulk.

  But then Wool turned to her directly. “I just tried your bakes, as well as Pritney’s. The judges are damn fools. You’re the clear winner.” The twin fires on his shoulders blazed brighter.

  Maple blinked at him. “Really?”

  He nodded, his face deadly serious. “Best French toast I’ve ever had.”

  Her cheeks flushed and she perked up a little.

  I found a moment while the others talked to ask Wool in a low voice, “Have you heard from Hank?”

  Wool shook his head. Worry twisted my gut. I didn’t like how we’d
left things. And I wanted some answers on his changing appearance and sneaking around. As I milled about, another familiar face caught my eye. Nate flashed me that bright white smile, though something hard hung in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t win.”

  I shrugged. “Gave it my best and all that.”

  “Yeah, but….” His face hardened. “Pritney didn’t deserve it. You remember that, okay? You deserved it and you deserve good things.”

  I gave him a little smile. “Thanks… for everything. I can’t believe it’s already over.”

  His dark eyes sparkled. “I regret that I didn’t get to know you better.”

  My stomach tingled. “Are you going to the festival tomorrow? Maybe I’ll see you there?”

  Nate’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and he stepped closer. “I—yes, but I’ll-I’ll be working.”

  “Oh. Yeah, of course.” I gestured at his uniform. “Big event, medics needed on hand.”

  Nate pulled me into a tight hug. I hesitated a moment, and then wrapped my arms around his hard back. “I’m sorry it had to end this way.”

  I smiled against him. “You sound so grave. It is just a baking competition, after all.”

  I pulled back. Nate slid his hands down my arms and finished by holding my hands. “Take care, Imogen. It’s been a pleasure.”

  I didn’t think myself capable of giving an intelligible reply, so I nodded, and Nate disappeared into the crowd. I gave Francis and Rhonda hugs. As I headed with Maple back to the house, Rhonda threw her head back and froze, a hand thrown across her eyes. When she slumped, coming out of her vision, she turned to me.

  “Ooh, girl. I sense a doozy of a dilemma coming your way.”

  Goody. “Any advice?”

  “Go with your gut.”

  “I always go with my teeth,” Francis murmured.

  “How’d it go with your dad?” We sat in our pajamas, Maple behind me, braiding my hair. We had the house to ourselves, as Pritney had insisted on moving into the royal baker’s quarters immediately. Well, us and Iggy. Maple had helped me magically transfer him to the fireplace in the library, with a big pile of linden logs.