by Amy Boyles
Dinner was a quiet, somber affair. Even the meal itself seemed sad—limp turnip greens, black-eyed peas and ham hock with more hock than ham made a scrimpy supper.
Mint and Licky hadn’t stayed around, and Amelia and Cordelia pushed their food around their plates with their forks. What was left of the ham bone I gave to Hugo, who gnawed it greedily on a newspaper laid out on the kitchen floor.
“If I’ve got to sit here with a bunch of whining and complaining babies, I’ll be happy to throw every one of you out,” Betty snapped.
My cousins and I exchanged confused glances.
Cordelia jabbed a pea. “What are you talking about? We’re sitting here.”
“It’s the way you’re sitting here,” Betty said, slathering butter on a cornbread muffin. “Y’all are sitting here like the world’s ending. Like you’re contestants in a moping contest to see who wins by getting the most mopes.”
“I don’t think ‘mopes’ is a word,” Amelia said.
“And you,” Betty snapped. “You’re the worst.”
Amelia frowned. “I’m the worst? We’re all worried about Pepper and this stupid spell, and I’m the worst? What am I doing?”
A spark of fire lit in Betty’s eyes. Oh crap. I didn’t know what was coming, but I knew she was goading Amelia for a reason. I was just afraid to find out exactly what that was.
“You’ve been complaining about your job for days.”
Amelia shook her head. “No, I haven’t.”
“She hasn’t,” Cordelia added.
Betty leaned back in her chair and studied Amelia. “You can say you haven’t, but I’ve heard your silent cries for help.”
Amelia’s grip on her fork tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I love my job.”
“Filing?” Betty said.
Amelia sniffed. “I’m good at it.”
Betty snapped her fingers, and a magical rolodex appeared.
“Not this again,” Amelia said. “I thought after the last catastrophe you were going to stay out of my love life.”
“This isn’t about your love life.”
The rolodex shot a beam of light upward like a projector. An image appeared of a woman in a chef’s hat stirring something in a ceramic bowl.
“What’s that?” Amelia said.
“I’m trying to find you a new job.”
Amelia shook her head. “But I don’t want a new job.”
“You might want this one.”
Betty shuffled through the rolodex again. Images whizzed by until she stopped. The picture on the screen showed a vault and a man with a key.
Amelia’s eyes widened. “Oh, what’s that?”
“I thought you weren’t interested in a new job,” Betty said smugly.
“I might be interested in that one. What is it?”
Betty crossed her arms and looked very proud of herself. “Magnolia Cove has an opening for a Vault keeper.”
“Vault keeper?” I said.
Cordelia folded her napkin. “The Vault keeper helps guard the town’s riches, whatever those might be. Potions, jewels, whatever.”
Amelia tapped her fingers together. “Oh, that sounds fascinating. Would I get to see what’s in the Vault?”
Betty nodded. “Probably.”
Cordelia yawned. “Sounds boring.”
“But I’d get to file things, wouldn’t I?”
Betty nodded. “I’m sure there would be all sorts of categorizing for you to do.”
A spark lit in Amelia’s eyes. “And I could file the town’s secrets.”
Betty pushed her chair back. “More or less. You’d know secrets, but of course you’d have to be discreet.”
“Oh, I’m discreet.”
“Think about it. I can get you an interview if you’re interested.” Betty nodded toward me. “You ready to track down an old man?”
I cracked my knuckles. “I’m ready.”
Truthfully I was a bundle of frayed nerves. I’d wanted to call Axel, let him know what was happening, but I didn’t want to worry him. I figured by the time he got back, all of this would be over. I’d be free of the spell and Rufus would be on his way back to whatever hole he’d crawled out of.
I crossed my fingers that things would play out exactly like that. Was I asking for too much?
I certainly hoped not.
Betty and I drove over to the First Witch Center. A nice lady greeted us when we entered—it was the same nurse from earlier in the day. She had short blonde hair cropped to the neck and a pink barrette clipping it on the side. She had full lips and an easy, friendly smile.
“We’re looking for Argus Amulet, Delilah,” Betty said.
“Ah yes,” she said. “Argus went outside after supper. Said he needed to work in his shop. I believe you’ll find him there.”
Once she was out of earshot, I said, “You know her?”
Betty sniffed. “It’s a small town.”
I followed Betty along the path lined with elephant ears, hibiscus and other plants that made me feel I was in the jungle more than I was at First Witch Center.
We reached the shack, and Betty knocked. No answer.
“Maybe he went back into the center?” I said.
She mumbled something about people keeping a closer eye on the residents and marched back inside. We found Delilah quickly.
“He’s not in there. Maybe he went back to his room?”
Delilah smiled pleasantly and nodded like a bobblehead doll. “His room is 105, right down the hall.”
I followed Betty to his room. The door was open, with no sign of Argus.
Betty frowned. “I don’t like the looks of this. Let’s go back to the shack.”
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Frustration started building inside me, but I followed her without a word.
She knocked again at the shack.
I grabbed the knob. “For goodness’ sake, let’s just go in.”
Moving like geriatric lightning, Betty threw her body across the door. “You can’t enter a sorcerer’s domain without their approval.”
“Well, we can’t exactly wait forever for Argus to show up. What if he fell asleep? Betty, he’s my only hope of getting rid of this spell.”
I grimaced.
She studied me. “The headache getting bad?”
I nodded. “I need to use my power to get rid of it, but I can’t while Rufus is attached. We don’t know what it will do. Feed him? Drain the lifeblood from me? I don’t plan to find out because behind that door may be a sleeping man—one who can solve this problem.”
I gently brushed her aside. “And if you’re too afraid to go in, I’ll take the wrath, whatever that may be.”
Betty poked a finger in my shoulder. “Even if that giant feather attacks you?”
I hesitated, but deciding there was no other choice, I said, “Even if that giant feather attacks me.”
With that, I turned the knob and slowly pushed the door open. It was unlocked, and I was pretty sure that Argus wouldn’t leave it unlocked unless he was inside.
The lights were out and the room was dark, but I saw a shadow slumped on the bench.
I glanced over my shoulder. “He’s just asleep like we thought.”
I padded inside with Betty directly behind. A skylight allowed slivers of light to pierce the darkness.
“Mr. Amulet? Sorry to intrude, but my grandmother and I were hoping you’d been able to crack that spell. See, we think something bad’s going to happen, that Rufus is up to something that could affect all of Magnolia Cove.”
The figure didn’t move.
“Mr. Amulet?”
I reached out and touched his shoulder. Mr. Amulet fell to the floor.
I jumped back. “Holy shrimp and grits!”
Argus Amulet’s sightless eyes gazed upward. Rubber tubing was tied around his arm, and dangling from his skin was a syringe.
“Well,” Betty said, stepping forward, “it appears our best hope of getting you out of this mess
is now dead.”
I crumpled to the floor beside Argus. Betty was right. Argus was dead, and unless my luck changed, I might be right behind him.
SEVEN
“Looks like Argus injected himself with a healthy dose of deadly nightshade,” Garrick said.
We stood outside. Even though the humid night was warm, a chill settled on my skin, making me shiver.
“Deadly nightshade?” I said.
He lifted a bottle in a plastic bag. The label read DEADLY NIGHTSHADE.
“Oh,” I said. “I guess it’s obvious then.”
“Sorcerers often use the stuff to achieve a trancelike state,” he explained. “It can help them see whatever it is they need, meaning it assists in contacting the spirits.”
“So it basically works like LSD?” I said.
Betty glared at me. “How do you know about those sorts of drugs?”
I shrugged. “I know it’s a hallucinogen. I imagine that’s what the nightshade does.”
Garrick nodded. “But he dosed himself way too large for that.”
I rocked back on my heels. “You mean you think this was intentional?”
“That’s what it looks like.”
I raked my fingers down my cheeks. “There’s no way. Argus was helping me. He was trying to break the spell that Rufus cast. He wouldn’t have killed himself.”
Garrick’s lips thinned to a line. He wrapped a hand on my shoulder and said, “He was an old man, and I’m sure one in a lot of pain. There’s no evidence of foul play. Maybe it wasn’t suicide. Could’ve just been an accident, but there’s no way to know. Argus is gone and won’t be able to help you.”
I glanced at Betty. “What do we do now?”
She tapped her foot impatiently and glared at Garrick. “That’s an excellent question. What are we supposed to do now? You’re holding Rufus because of a spell he cast on Pepper. How long can you detain him?”
Garrick glanced at the ground as if thinking. “A couple of days, tops. But I need evidence of a spell; otherwise I’ll have to escort him out of town. Makes people uncomfortable having him here. No one’s said anything, but I can tell. They don’t like him.”
I twisted my hair over one shoulder. “We need someone else who can help us.”
“I might be able to assist.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Samuel Amulet coming out of the shack.
He shook hands with Garrick. “Thank you for everything. It’s horrible to see Granddad like that, but he did like his nightshade. Used it a lot to get him into the state he needed to help connect with the other side, or whatever.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Garrick said. He tipped his ten-gallon hat to us. “Ladies, if I can be of any help, let me know.”
He left Betty and me alone with Samuel. “What was my grandfather helping you with?” he said.
“A sorcerer cast a joining spell on me. I need it broken.”
Samuel grimaced. “Boy, that is a hard one. That’s a real pickle, I tell you what.”
I shot Betty a concerned look. Pickle? I hadn’t met many sorcerers, but they seemed more mature than to use the word pickle in the context of me being permanently chained to Rufus for the rest of my life.
“Follow me,” he said.
Samuel led us into Argus’s shack. The body had been removed, but having found Argus dead in there, I had the creeps just standing in the room.
Samuel started sifting through the shelves. “There’s a labradorite stone here somewhere. That rock holds tons of magic. Lots of power.”
Betty poked me in the ribs. “It’s well-known in town.”
“The stone?” I said.
“Oh yes,” she said, nodding. “One time—and I have to give credit where credit is due—Argus used that labradorite to stop a giant turtle from eating all the vegetation down at the potion ponds.”
I cocked a disbelieving brow. “A giant turtle?” I mean, how big could a turtle get?
“Oh yes,” she said. “That sucker weighed a good two tons. A nasty witch out of Hickory Hollow sent it up because she said Melbalean Mayes had cursed her petunias so they wouldn’t bloom.”
“So she conjured up a giant turtle and sent it to devour the entire town of Magnolia Cove?”
She patted me proudly on the shoulder. “Granddaughters of mine are pure geniuses. Yes, that’s exactly what happened.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, anyway, what can this orb do?”
Samuel stopped digging through the shelves. “It holds power from deceased sorcerers. It can help. One of the most powerful magical objects around. Been in our family for years.”
He stopped searching and stood glaring at the shelves, a deep frown embedded on his face. “But right now it doesn’t appear to be here.”
“Don’t know where it is, huh? Your granddad didn’t trust you with it?” Betty said.
“He did trust me,” Samuel said. “I am an Amulet. I have just as much magic as my grandfather ever did.”
“But you don’t know where the orb is,” she said.
His jaw clenched. “I will find it. And when I do, I will come to your home and destroy whatever magic this two-bit sorcerer has done to you. Don’t worry. I’m every bit as capable as my grandfather ever was. More so.”
“Hmmm. Too bad you can’t just use some magic and figure out where the labradorite is,” Betty said.
“I will find it,” he shouted.
I cringed and tugged Betty toward the door. “Let us know when you do. In the meantime we’ll be around. You won’t have any problems finding me.”
Betty and I left.
“His grandfather didn’t trust him with the labradorite, did he?” I said to her.
“Nope,” she replied, “and if we want to get you out of this mess, we’d better start looking somewhere else. Otherwise you’ll be connected to Rufus for the rest of your life.”
I rubbed the ache in my temples. However long that would be.
We got home and I went straight to my room. Hugo was nestled in his cage. I let him out and played with the dragon for a few minutes. Mattie lay curled up in the window seat.
“That sorcerer figure out how to cure you?” she said.
“He’s dead. Committed suicide with deadly nightshade.”
“What?”
I shrugged. “Either that or it was accidental overdose.”
Mattie blinked at me and stretched. “I don’t believe that for one minute.”
“I have a hard time with it, too, but that’s what all the evidence points to.”
“Don’t you find it suspicious that Rufus shows up and then the one man you need to help you against Rufus winds up dead?”
I stopped in mid-tug of pulling my pajama pants up one leg. “What are you saying?”
“I’m sayin’, sugar, that I think the whole thing smells worse than rotten fish in a barrel.”
“Is that a thing?”
“No. But it would be to a cat. We love fish.”
I laughed, but I thought about what she had said. I gnawed the inside of my cheek for a moment. “You think Rufus is responsible for Argus’s death?”
Mattie stretched. “Don’t you think Rufus would know who the one person was that you would seek out to help you? Rufus is from here, after all, and he’s a powerful sorcerer.”
I considered that. The police had found Rufus this afternoon. There’s was no telling how long Argus had been dead, but the nurse at the center seemed to act as if she’d seen him recently, which wouldn’t work because Rufus had been caught much earlier.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure it adds up. They caught Rufus hours ago. Argus was found recently.”
Mattie sat on her haunches. “A sorcerer like Rufus can do all sorts of things. I don’t think his involvement can be written off so quick. Sugarbear, don’t you think Rufus wouldn’t want anyone to suspect him? He could’ve done something to the nightshade. Perhaps he made it more poisonous, knowing that Argus would use it.”
I ru
bbed my chin. “That sounds feasible. So I guess I let Garrick Young know about all this in the morning?”
Mattie yawned. “Girl, if you want any kind of truth, I suggest you go talk to Rufus yourself.”
I nearly fell over. “What? Talk to him? About what? And do you really think Rufus is going to admit anything to me? It’s not as if he’s going to say, ‘Well, of course I poisoned the old man. I didn’t want anyone to help you.’ He’s not going to do that.”
Mattie winked at me. “He might.”
This cat had more than a simple conversation up her sleeve. “What’re you talking about?”
“I’m talkin’ ’bout the fact that you go in there and play to Rufus, let him think he’s in control, and he might slip up. That fool may tell you exactly what he’s plannin’. What he wants. And he might just break the spell. I mean, you ever even had one conversation with him?”
I shook my head. “No. And I don’t want a conversation with him. I don’t want to talk to him. Mattie, he’s tried to kill me. You saved me from him back in Nashville. Why would I put myself at risk and go talk to him?”
“’Cause you might be able to discover a secret about the spell he cast on you. That’s one thing.”
“What’s the other thing?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t figured that out yet. Heck, I’m only a cat. I cain’t do everythin’.”
I lay back on the bed. “I wish Axel was here. He would know what to do.”
I heard Mattie thump to the floor and pad over to the bed. She jumped up, landing softly. “I’m sorry about Axel. Have you called him?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t want him to worry.”
“Listen, instead of being all mopey, why don’t you get dressed? I’ll go with you to the police station. I’ll distract whoever’s on duty, give you time to talk to Rufus. What do you think?”
I dug the heels of my hands in my eyes. What did I think about that? Worst-case scenario, nothing would happen. Best case was that I would find out some nugget of information that could help.
I sat up and glanced at the gray cat staring blankly at me. “All right. Let’s get down to the station.”
Not wanting to be caught by Betty sneaking out of the house, I decided stealth was the way to go. So I grabbed my skillet from a corner in the room, threw open my bedroom window and crawled up onto the roof. I hiked a leg over the handle, and Mattie jumped onto the pole, balancing as only a cat could.
