Queen Witch (Bless Your Witch Book 3)

by Amy Boyles

  Reid raised her hand from the corner. "I want to help, too."

  I pointed at her. "You can. Keep reading that book on queens."

  She stared at me like I had five heads. "Why?"

  "Just do it. And let me know if you come across anything strange."

  She fluffed the ends of her burgundy hair. "Like what?"

  "I don't know. Anything. Just keep digging into it."

  "Aye, aye, captain. But what about the grandmas? They'll want to do something too."

  I rubbed my bottom lip in thought. "Tell you what, bounce ideas off them. I may need their help later. But for now, keep them up-to-date on what you find."

  "Squawk! What you find!"

  "No one's shot that bird yet?" Sera said.

  I rubbed my forehead. "If you ever repeat that I said this, I'll deny it—but he's actually growing on me."

  "He?"

  I rolled my eyes. "Yes, he's gone from it to a gender. These are very exciting times, Sis." I clapped my hands together. "Now. We need to find someone."

  She brushed a curtain of hair from her eyes. "Who?"

  I flared my nostrils and said, "Gertrude's maid."

  ***

  We found her in the kitchen ironing a shirt. That was funny. With all the magic in this place, you would've thought that whoever owned the shirt would iron it themselves, but I guess not.

  "So you cleaned Gertrude's room the night everyone cast their ballots, right?" I said.

  "Yes, ma'am," she said, keeping her eyes downcast. "I cleaned it good and proper."

  "Did you see anything strange?" Sera asked.

  The girl's gaze slewed over to my sister. "No, ma'am, I didn't."

  "After she looked at the dress I made, she sent for you to pick it up. Did you deliver it to her?" I asked.

  "Yes, ma'am," she said.

  Boy, this was going nowhere fast. Time to change tactics so I could get out of yes-ma'am, no-ma'am land.

  "What happened after she got dressed for voting?"

  The girl looked confused, as if she were only trained to say yes and no and now she had to think. I swear to goodness, if she found a way to put a yes or no in that answer, I was going to give up and just give myself to Helga, Queen Witch of the Crazies.

  "Well, I took the dress over to Lady Gertrude. I helped her put it on."

  Good. We were getting somewhere. "Were you there when she left?"

  "No, ma'am, I wasn't. I had to go shortly after she got ready."

  My high hopes shattered into a thousand pieces. "Did you see her put the gum in the breast of her dress?"

  "Oh yes, I saw that."

  Sera's face lit up. "You saw it? Do you know where she got it from?"

  She nodded. "From a box."

  A box! Bingo! "Do you know where the box came from?"

  "No, ma'am," she said.

  I looked at Sera, who frowned. I glanced back to the maid. "Thank you for your help."

  We turned to leave.

  The maid cleared her throat. "I don't know where it came from, but you can ask William. He delivered a package to her about an hour before. I'm not sure if it's related, though."

  "Who's William?" Sera asked.

  "He's the footman. He should be getting ready for dinner service."

  I screwed up my face in what must have been a seriously pained look. "What dinner service? Who's having dinner?"

  The maid shrugged. "The new guests and anyone else who wishes to join them, I suppose." The maid gave a little nod and said, "If there ain't nothin' else you'll be needin', I've got some chores before dinner."

  "Yes. Sorry to hold you up. Thank you."

  The maid smiled and left.

  Wow. Had I been missing out or what? I'd been here several days but hadn't attended one formal dinner as queen yet.

  And I didn't plan on it.

  "You need to go to that dinner," Sera said.

  Unless someone made me, that was.

  "Why?"

  "Because it'll give you a chance to start scoping out the guests, see who's who. Figure out other motives in this place."

  "Maybe I can just talk to William before dinner and let that be it."

  Sera raised her palms skyward. "Yes. Let's go talk to him, but otherwise, you need to be showing your face around this castle."

  "Listen, I'm not planning on being queen for much longer."

  She cast me a look that suggested I might not be around at all much longer.

  "All right, I'll go," I growled.

  Sera snaked her arm around mine. "Come on. Let's go find this kid."

  But William was no kid. In fact, William was six feet five inches of lank all the way. He was young with a smooth face and freckles that danced over his nose. I immediately knew he'd give the solid truth.

  Or what he thought was the truth, at least.

  "You delivered a box to Gertrude?" I asked.

  William glanced from Sera to me as if trying to figure out why we were interested in all this. I cleared my throat.

  "You know I'm Queen Witch."

  His face whited. The footman shook his head. "Yeah, I'd heard something about that. I didn't know what you looked like though."

  I opened my hands. "Now you know."

  "And knowing is half the battle." Sera snickered.

  I rolled my eyes and said, "So you took her a package."

  William thumbed his chest. "Sure did. Took it the day she died. It wasn't very big. A small package, but I already told that inspector all about it."

  Sera and I exchanged glances. "Yeah, but do you mind going over it with us one more time?"

  "Naw, I don't mind." He pulled a pair of white gloves from a small locker and fingered them on. "It was small. I thought it was business cards cause it seemed to be the same shape and size, though it weighed a whole lot less. Which I thought was kinda strange."

  I threw Sera a glance that said, cha-ching! "Do you remember where the package was from? Did you get a look at the return address?"

  William puckered out his bottom lip. He tugged on it and said, "I can't remember now, and I couldn't remember when that other man asked me. I suggested he ask the postmaster."

  My ears piqued at that. "Postmaster? You mean like the town post-office dude?"

  William led us into the kitchen where he picked up a silver tray and hoisted it onto his shoulder. "Yeah, like that, but the castle has its own post office."

  "It does?" Sera said.

  He nodded. "Yep. Up the stairs, to the left and down the hall. You'll find old Cornelius there."

  "Thanks," I said, turning to go.

  "You might want to hurry, though," William said.

  "Why's that?" Sera asked.

  "Because dinner's in a few minutes, and Bannock doesn't like it when the guests are late. Throws the whole thing off, he says."

  "We'll be on time," I promised.

  As Sera and I wound up the stairs, she said, "Do you feel like we're retracing Roman's steps?"

  "I guess," I said.

  "Do you really think we're going to find something he didn't?"

  "No," I said. "But we have to try. I have to try."

  "I know. I just wonder if our time would be better spent doing something else?"

  I stopped. "Like what? Getting my funeral dress made?"

  She pressed her hand into my back. "Good point. Let's go."

  We reached the top of the spiral staircase and walked to the end of the hall. A half door greeted us. The top was open, the bottom shut. A bell sat on the lip, and a sign that read RING BELL FOR SERVICE had been tacked to the wall.

  I suddenly felt incredibly intimidated. I spoke through one side of my mouth. "Should we ring?"

  Sera folded her arms. "If we don't, we might be waiting for a while."

  I waited for Sera to tap the bell, but I knew I'd be waiting a lifetime for her to screw up some courage. I flicked my hand down, and the bell peeled.

  "What is it? What is it?" Something shuffled in the back. It sounded l
ike someone wading through an ocean of papers. Sheets of white flew into the air as if parting for whoever treaded our way.

  A head popped over the half door. A slight man, one I assumed had a touch of short man's complex lodged somewhere in his brain, flung his hands over the lip.

  "Well? What is it? I'm very busy."

  I drew back. "I'm Dylan Apel, this is my sister Sera—"

  He rolled his hand as if trying to speed up time. "Yes, yes. I know. Queen Witch and all that. What do you want? I'm swamped. Lots of mail to deliver. Lots to get here and there. I don't have all the time in the world. What do you need? Stamps? I have some that work in our world and the world where you come from. Take your pick. I have horses and balloons, circus animals and an array of crickets."

  Crickets? Weird.

  "No, thank you. That's not why we're here."

  He pulled a monocle from his shirt pocket and squeezed it over his eye. His gaze washed me up and down. Gray hair sprouted from the sides of his head, his ears and even his eyebrows. I swear the wiry stuff wiggled and waved as Cornelius the Postmaster studied me.

  "Let me think…now you must want to know something about your predecessor. About that terrible Gertrude who was murdered."

  I nodded, though a creepy feeling crawled around my belly at the mention of it. "About Gertrude, yes. We've been told you received a package for her the day she died."

  "And what business is it of yours? You’re not an inspector."

  "I may not be an inspector, but I am your queen. I'm asking nicely if you would be so kind as to tell us about the package you received for the last queen. May her soul rest in peace."

  Cornelius glared at us with beady eyes full of mistrust. I gave him a bright, cheery smile, and Sera did the same.

  "We're only trying to help," she added. "Someone murdered that woman, and we need to know why."

  Cornelius riffled through a stack of papers and finally said, "It was small and light. I remember the return address quite clearly. Well, perhaps not the exact street, but I remember the town, for sure."

  Here it was. He was going to tell us. I crossed my fingers behind my back in anticipation. "Yes? You remember the town?"

  He smacked his lips and yawned. "Yes, of course I do. How could I forget it?"

  Sera shrugged. "I don't know. How could you?"

  "I couldn't. That's the point."

  I flashed him a tight, wide smile and said, "Great. So where was the package from?"

  Cornelius adjusted the monocle. "We don't receive many packages from there. That's why I remember it so clearly. It was a surprise, especially seeing as what Gertrude wanted to do. At first I wondered if it was magical, but it didn't have that sort of feel to it, the way a package enhanced with magic does."

  Sera flipped a curtain of bang back. "So where was it from?"

  "It was from the most magical place in all the Queenland area."

  "The Queenland area?" I said.

  He nodded.

  "Wouldn't that be here?" Sera asked.

  Cornelius curled the ends of his mustache with his fingers. "Why no. We're not the most magical place."

  "So what is?" I said.

  A twinkle sparked in his eyes. "Why, Fairyland, of course."

  "Fairyland?" Sera asked, paling.

  Cornelius nodded. "Even more precisely, Monkey Town. Home of Brock, the monkey king."

  SEVENTEEN

  "Maybe it has nothing to do with Brock," I said.

  I marched behind Sera as she pressed on toward the dining room. She threaded nervous fingers through her hair. "You don't think it was him, do you?"

  "I don't know. I hope not, but he was pretty angry when he confronted Gertrude the other day."

  Sera chewed her bottom lip. Her blue eyes were stormy.

  "What are you about to do?"

  "I don't know, but I do know that Pearbottom or even Roman might think that Brock is guilty. I know he isn't."

  I touched her arm and slowed her pace. "Sera, we don't really know him. You just met the guy a few days ago."

  She nodded. "You're right. I'm being silly. I don't know him."

  "Okay."

  "But Grandma does."

  I knitted my brows together in a look that said, what?

  "Yeah, she knows him. She knows his entire family. She's his godmother."

  I stopped. Still. Like someone had thrown a stone at my head and it nearly knocked me out. "Say what?"

  "Yeah, I know. The more we find out, the crazier things become."

  "Crazier!"

  I wiggled a finger in my blown eardrum. "Thank you, Polly, as always, for your awesome insight."

  Sera took off. I followed at nearly a gallop. "Yeah, but she's his godmother. And to be honest I'm kinda ticked that she didn't introduce him to us earlier."

  "It's not as if she didn't try. She kept saying she invited the monkey king to dinner."

  She shrugged. "He was too busy with monkey king stuff."

  "Okay, can you please explain how the whole he-isn't-a-monkey thing works when he's clearly king of the winged monkeys?"

  "His parents adopted him. He was abandoned in their land, and they raised him as their own."

  "So he's basically Tarzan."

  Sera snorted. "Yeah. I didn't think about that, but I guess he is."

  "But that blonde woman isn't a monkey."

  "She's interspecies."

  "What?"

  "She's mixed with monkey and human blood."

  I frowned. "She doesn't look monkey."

  "I think she has a tail," Sera whispered.

  This was a bit too much for my meager brain to chew on. "Okay, I'm gonna trust you on all of this. Monkeys and humans living in peace and harmony."

  "Basically." We reached the door where dinner was served. Sera took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

  "For what? There's probably nothing going on."

  Sera tugged her ear. "I hope not. Still. Are you ready?"

  I smirked. "Why not? What's the worst that can happen?"

  She turned the knob and pushed open the door. It glided over the stone floor, swinging open as if the hinges were oiled to perfection every morning. Which they probably were.

  "I knew it," came a voice. "You couldn't protect a doghouse full of kittens."

  My neck snapped. There stood Queen Helgs, wearing a dress of black fur and leather. She pointed to the opposite side of the room.

  Brock rose, tossed his napkin on the table. "I would have squashed your cousin's rebellion in a second. Don't think I wouldn't have."

  "You've always been a worthless monkey king," Helgs snapped.

  I raised my eyebrows at that one. Roman or Pearbottom had to have said something about the package for Helga to be attacking Brock, but I didn't see either one of them.

  I hooked my arm around Sera's and dragged her to our grandmother's table. I knelt down. "What's going on?"

  Grandma Hazel pulled on the strand of pearls around her neck. "Something about there not being enough bread for the queen's table."

  "What?" Sera said.

  Milly nodded. "She saw Brock had plenty and started in on him. It quickly turned into her accusing him of playing a part in Gertrude's murder."

  I leaned forward. "So they don't know about the package."

  "What package?" Reid asked through a mouthful of green beans.

  "The one that basically pins the murder on someone from his village," I whispered.

  "Hamlet," Grandma said.

  "What?" I asked.

  "He doesn't live in a village. It's more like a hamlet."

  "Okay. Hamlet."

  Sera slid a hand over her forehead. "So it looks like everything's safe here."

  Grandma scoffed. "As safe as it can be given the fact that I don't have a bodyguard." She dusted her hand in the direction of Nan and the table of protectors. They sat quietly eating, paying little attention to the fight on the other side of the room.

  I squeezed her shoulder. "Grandma, you d
on't need a bodyguard. You're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself now."

  She sniffed. "You never know when I might need one."

  "I'll spell you back to Monkeyland right now," Helga screamed.

  "Oh, this is about to be bad," I said, rising.

  Helgs lifted her palm. A swirl of silver magic funneled from her hand, heading straight for Brock. Now Brock had said he didn't have that much magic, but I didn't know if he could fight a queen or not. I hadn't spent hours on end with him like Sera had.

  Sera, who I assumed did know something about Brock's magic, raised her hand.

  Sera—whose magic had been broken for our entire stay at the castle—was about to use her power.

  "No," I shrieked.

  Too late.

  A blob of goo shot out of her palm, heading straight for the Helgs. Heck's bells, no. That blob could not reach the queen or else we'd have World War Witch on our hands.

  I watched as Helga's silver thread reached Brock. He easily deflected it with some sort of leather armband.

  Then the slime hit.

  Helga dropped her hands to her sides and screamed bloody murder. Green goo covered her from head to foot. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

  "Well, that wasn't supposed to happen," Sera murmured.

  Helga glared at Sera like she wanted to strangle her. "You!" She lifted her claws, and I knew whatever was about to come out of her hands would knock my sister into next year, if not kill her.

  Somehow Grandma was faster than me. She rose, raised a hand to work her magic. And…nothing happened. Not one stream of power, not even a trickle of a thread left her.

  "Grandma," I said.

  She glanced down in shock. "I don't…understand."

  I looked up in time to see Helgs lift her palms. A smile as wicked as the devil's flashed across her face. Power whirled in front of her. She heaved her arms back.

  A voice boomed in the hall.

  "Everyone stop!" All eyes swiveled to the door. Jonathan Pearbottom stood with scroll in hand. "You will refrain from performing any magic, Queen Helga. This is official business of the Witch Police."

  The queen slowly lowered the magic, but the sneer on her face said this wasn't done. Not by a long shot. "What are you going to do? Arrest me?"

  Pearbottom ignored her. Sera clutched my hand. The inspector cleared his throat and said, "On behalf of the Witch Police, I'm placing Brock Odom under arrest for the murder of Gertrude Boxbigger."