Witch My Grits (Bless Your Witch Book 7)

by Amy Boyles

  Milly tweaked her nose. “Easy, toots. I think you should’ve figured this one out already.”

  “How’s that? I said. “What am I supposed to figure out?”

  Milly cackled. “That these rooms need a bath—a mud bath.”

  Oh boy. What had I gotten myself into this time?

  FIFTEEN

  You guessed it—we washed our rooms in a mud solution that Grandma conjured up. The whole process took about thirty minutes, so it was still early in the day by the time we were finished.

  Feeling that the spell on us was broken, I glanced at my grandmothers and sisters.

  “Great minds of my family,” I said, “what do we do now? How do we solve this dilemma and catch an elf? Oh, and by the way, Queen Em is stopping by this morning. I’m not sure when, but she’ll be here any minute.”

  “Why?” Sera said.

  I grimaced. “Because she’s been hearing that I’m a murderer and there’s lots of crazy magic going on.”

  “Well, she’s right about one of those things,” Reid grumbled. She turned to our grandmothers. “So what are we supposed to do now? We’ve got to catch this elf red-handed. Find some sort of evidence against this person.”

  I poked the air with my finger. “I say we go back to the beginning and talk to Claire Wood. Even if she didn’t kill Lilly, there was the whole thing about the face cream that Lilly made for Mrs. Wood. It did make her face look horrible. Surely an elf could’ve cleared that up.”

  “I wonder,” Grandma said.

  “What?” I said.

  “I wonder if that needle was magicked to kill Lilly.”

  I shrugged. “Probably. But how does that help us?”

  Milly snorted. “It could help us if Roman let us see it.”

  “But don’t you think Roman would have already thought about that? If there was a way to trace the magic, surely he would have done it.”

  Milly frowned. “You’re right. But I’d still like to take a look at it.” She turned to me. “Think you can get that boyfriend of yours to show it to you?”

  I nodded. “Probably. Let me talk to him and see.”

  I left the room and made my way down the hall. I found Roman in a room off the main lobby. People buzzed about, leaving from breakfast. Their faces were pinched and sour. I’m sure they were ready to go. Be done with this whole cursed wedding that didn’t happen.

  I got Roman’s attention, and he came over to me. “What’s that on your face?” he said.

  I rubbed at the spot he indicated. A blob of mud speared against my skin. “Oh, mud. We cleansed our rooms so that the elf wouldn’t be able to cast any more spells on us or something like that.”

  He quirked a questioning brow.

  I grabbed his arm. “Listen, do I really need to explain my crazy family?”

  He smiled. “No, in fact you don’t.”

  “Good. Milly wants to see the needle.”

  “It’s locked away in our makeshift evidence room.”

  I flashed a pleading smile. “Can she see it?”

  He shrugged. “I guess so. Tell her to come to room 101.”

  I nodded. “Great. See you in a jiff.” I gave his cheek a quick peck and retrieved Milly.

  We reached the room a few minutes later. Roman was already in there. When we entered, he shut the door behind us and handed Milly a plastic evidence bag.

  Milly stared at the needle. She turned it this way and that and closed her eyes. After a few seconds she blinked them open.

  “Get your grandmother,” she said to me.

  Her tone was harsh, clipped. Though my usual reply would’ve been something smart and snappy, the timbre in her voice convinced me I was better off doing exactly as she said and not arguing.

  I got Grandma and brought her to the room.

  “I’m worried,” Grandma said, fingering the ends of her hair. “Milly shouldn’t need me for something like this. Very simple to just look at a needle and decide things.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

  But the frown on her face said otherwise.

  As soon as I opened the door, Milly thrust the bag under Grandma’s nose. “Take a look at this and tell me what you see.”

  Grandma brought the needle to her face and inspected it. She released a low whistle.

  “What?” I said.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth,” Roman added.

  Grandma tapped the plastic. “This,” she said dramatically, “is not the same needle that we used on the dresses, Dylan.”

  I frowned. “It’s not? How can that be? I gave that needle to you, and you did something with it.”

  “Yes, I took it my room. It’s not there now. That needle has been stolen, and this one has been put in its place.”

  I scratched my forehead. “So someone stole that needle, replicated it and used the false one to kill Lilly. Why?”

  Milly snorted. “So they could have the power of the first needle for themselves, obviously. They want it all.” Milly turned to Grandma. “Hazel, I think it’s about time you tell us exactly where that needle came from.”

  Roman nodded. “I think that sounds about right.”

  We went into a closed-off parlor. Grandma took a seat by a cold fireplace. Her hands trembled. Milly magicked up a serving of hot tea, which Grandma took with shaking fingers.

  “I first came to the needle by way of an old wizard. I’d tracked him to the wilds of Alaska, having fought off a huge grizzly bear before finding him. It was a cold, dark time in witch history. This was before the great witch war in the sixties—but it was one of the inciting events for the war.”

  She dropped a cube of sugar into her teacup. Grandma twirled a finger over the liquid. The surface rippled as her magic stirred the sugar into a solution.

  “He was mad, you see. Crazy. He’d lost his marbles a couple of years ago. His wife, a prominent witch in my community, had died. Wyrm never got over it. We hoped he would, but he started doing strange things. When he’d walk, toadstools would blossom behind his steps. When he passed other bright flowers, they would immediately die. But it wasn’t just the strange things with the flowers. Animals would run from him—dogs would bark and snarl. He grew his beard long and twisted it into a knot at the top of his chest. His appearance changed in that way. Eventually the whispers began that Wyrm was doing dark, evil magic. Before anyone had a chance to investigate, he vanished without a trace. We thought we were rid of him.”

  “But you weren’t,” I said.

  Grandma nodded. “Not at all. Magical waves started coming from the North. We were split up and sent out to see what was going on. I followed a trail of magic to Alaska. I came upon a cabin stationed on a frozen lake. White wilderness surrounded me except for that one black smudge that was the building. Spirals of magic curled from the chimney. I slowly approached, knowing I would be spotted immediately.”

  Grandma poked the air. “Because that’s why he’d placed his home there, where he could see if anyone came near. So he could be ready for the attack that Wyrm ultimately knew was coming. If I’d been smarter, I would’ve called in reinforcements, but being a Horton like I am, I went in by myself.”

  “Did you knock on the door or just burst in?” I said.

  Grandma placed a finger on the side of her mouth. “You would’ve been so proud of me, Dylan. I blasted the door open with a stream of magic. Of course, that’s what he expected to happen. The trap had been sprung, and the next thing I knew, I was in a stranglehold of power. One that was trying to cut off my air and smother me to death.

  “The light was fading from my eyes. Wyrm approached. He glanced down and saw me. For a moment I thought it was pity that he’d taken upon me, but it wasn’t—he’d recognized me. The wizard broke my bonds and sat me on a chair. This was the first time I’d been able to get a solid look at the place. Magic curled and coiled in every corner, almost as if it was generating from the house itself. Wyrm had hung skulls and bones throughout as well. He was ca
lling on the power of the dead to help fuel his little project.”

  I waited for her to continue. When I couldn’t take the suspense anymore, I said, “What little project? What was he doing?”

  Grandma tipped her chin toward me. “Wyrm was trying to raise the dead. He was trying to bring back the soul of his wife and make her flesh and blood again. I won’t describe the other things I saw in that house, but it was enough that I figured out the truth. Of course, it helped that Wyrm told me all this himself—and decided to use my body to be the vehicle that his wife could use for good.”

  My heart raced against my ribs. It hammered so hard I thought it might crack. This was seriously dark stuff, and for as batty as Grandma was, I never really thought that she’d seen anything so dark and disturbing. Boy, had I been wrong.

  “I won’t go into details, but the main object Wyrm intended to use for his purposes was a needle—the needle. I regained my strength and was able to break my bonds by tricking Wyrm into thinking I was already his wife. I used the needle to stop him in a manner I won’t discuss.”

  “You killed him with the needle?” I said.

  Grandma nodded grimly. “I did. I stopped him from conjuring his wife and any other dead spirits back into the world of the living. I kept the needle, not thinking much about it. I would occasionally bring it out. It’s true that the needle is fickle, likes to do the opposite that you want, but most of the time it obeys, listens and responds accordingly.”

  I smirked. “Don’t you think it’s a pretty dangerous object to keep on hand?”

  Grandma shrugged. “No dangerous than any other. Depends on how you use it.”

  Roman heaved a weighted sigh. “And so the needle is the one you used to kill Wyrm. I’m almost afraid to ask why this elf, or whatever, might want it.”

  Milly snorted. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  I shook my head. “It’s not obvious to me.”

  Roman traced his thumb over his jaw. “It’s becoming clear to me, but I want a second opinion. I don’t want to be correct in my theory.”

  Grandma nestled back in her chair and took a long sip of tea. “I’m afraid if the worst of the worse is what you’re thinking, then you’re probably right.”

  “Great,” Roman said. “So all this person needs is a matter of time. That’s why they’ve been trying to throw things on you—so that we can wrap this investigation up and they’ll be free to do whatever they want.”

  I scoffed. “What is it they want? Are any of you going to tell me?”

  “I’m almost afraid to,” Grandma said. “It would be so much easier if you guessed.”

  No one said anything. “Are y’all really going to make me guess?”

  Only Roman spoke. “Your grandmother killed a man with the needle that he was going to use to draw on the spirit of his dead wife. Think about the needle. What does that mean?”

  My head whirled as the three of them stared at me. It was an impossible guess. Actually, an improbable one. It made the most sense, but also the least amount of sense at the same time. And yet it was what all signs were pointing to.

  “Does the needle possess the spirit of that Wyrm guy?”

  Roman nodded. “Most definitely.”

  I winced as I said it. “And whoever stole the needle?”

  “Knows that,” Milly said.

  “So what do they want?” I said.

  Grandma sat the teacup and saucer on her lap. “They want one of two things—to bring back someone from the dead.”

  I grimaced. “Or?”

  “They want the spirit of Wyrm to be set free. Either way, we will find ourselves in a horrible situation. For if he’s completely freed from that needle, anyone in his wake will die.”

  SIXTEEN

  “Why will everyone die?” I said.

  “Because Wyrm is a vengeful spirit,” Grandma said. “He’ll be on the warpath. We need to find that needle, and we need to do it now.”

  Roman narrowed his eyes. “I can only keep people here until noon without any warrants. We’re limited on time. I wish we’d known this sooner.”

  I flashed him a smile that hopefully looked more confident than it actually was. “Better sooner than later.”

  Milly tapped her cane on the floor. “We need a plan for finding that needle. A simple finding spell won’t work. Whoever has it will have already thought of that. They’ll have put that into place. Just like they hexed our rooms.”

  “And it’s not like a search will bring anything up,” I said. “The person, or elf, could be hiding it on them.”

  The door banged open. Em stood in the frame. She crossed her arms and jutted out one hip. “I’ve been lookin’ for y’all for ages. What the heck’s goin’ on?”

  “Oh boy, do you really want to know?” I said.

  “As Queen Witch of the South, you betcha I want to know. Now spill it.”

  I glanced at Grandma. “Would you like to do the honors?”

  So Grandma went over the story again. By the time she was finished, Em was curled up in a ball on the floor.

  “This is horrible,” she said. “What are we gonna do? How do we find it?”

  “That’s what we were discussing,” Milly said.

  “Worse,” I said. “I think I’m a target.”

  “We know you’re one,” Milly snarled.

  “No, it’s even deeper than what’s already happened.”

  Grandma leaned forward. “Tell us how.”

  I explained the picture and the lightning bugs. No one said anything, though Milly and Grandma exchanged glances.

  “Okay, well,” I said, as no one had anything to add to my story, “how do we find the needle?”

  Roman pushed off the wall he was leaning against. “Simple. We draw it out.”

  “How?” I said.

  He placed each hand on his hips. “We need something that will get Wyrm interested in showing himself. We need a way to draw him out.”

  Grandma’s eyes widened. “What a splendid idea. And if we draw him out, then hopefully we’ll catch the killer.”

  Em rose. “How the heck do you figure we can get a spirit to show himself?”

  Milly snorted. “Why, the best way would be to give Wyrm the one thing he’s always wanted.”

  The queen folded her arms. “And what’s that?”

  Milly’s eyes narrowed. “His wife.”

  Grandma nearly leaped from her chair. “Milly, what a great idea. The more I look at Em, the more I realize she’s the spitting image of Wyrm’s wife, Agatha. Em, we’ll dress you up and you can float around looking like Agatha and that will cause Wyrm to show himself.”

  I slapped my forehead. “That’s a terrible plan. No way is that going to work.”

  “Not only that,” Em said, “but there’s no way in heck I’m gonna be dressin’ up like some ghost lady. No way.”

  I giggled. “You’re not afraid, are you, Em?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “But I’m a queen. Queens don’t do that. Only other people—like you, Dylan—do that. Hazel, put a glamour on Dylan and have her do it. She’d be perfect.”

  “Wait. How’d I get involved in this? No way.”

  Em curled her upper lip. “You’re the best choice. You’re the most fearless out of all of us.”

  I hated to admit it, but as much of a chicken as I was, I was also somewhat fearless like she said. “Even if I did do it, how will we make it work with all these people in the house?”

  Grandma threw one side of her gauzy scarf over her neck. “Leave it to me. I’ll come up with something. Give me an hour and I’ll be ready. Roman, make sure everyone stays. The success of this plan depends on it.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said.

  Grandma, Milly and Em drifted off, leaving Roman and I behind. “So you’re going to let them do this? Whatever harebrained idea they’ve got? And you’re going to let them use me?”

  Roman’s mouth coiled into a sly smile. “I’ll be beside you the entire time. I’
m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “What if they want to dress me up like the dead man’s wife and parade me around? Are you going to let them do that?”

  Roman stifled a chuckle. “Darlin’, whatever they do, I’ll be here for you, like I said. Even if that means you have to walk around pretending to be a ghost.”

  I rubbed the base of my palm on my forehead. “How exactly are they going to get this to work?”

  Roman curled a hand around my arm. “I don’t know, but I’ll walk you back to your room while they figure it out.”

  We left the room and walked down the hall. One side was all paned windows. Golden sunlight filtered in, warming my skin.

  I turned to Roman. “How do you think an elf got this far into society without any of us knowing?”

  Roman shrugged. “Witches are out in the world, and few people know about them. No one would realize what you are unless you told them.”

  “Yeah, but an elf seems different to me.” I nibbled the tip of my finger in thought. “It just seems like an elf is easier to spy.”

  “Have you ever met one?”

  I smirked. “Well, no. But I’ve seen movies with them. They always have pointy ears and look elfish. If it’s in a movie, it must be true, right?”

  “Right.” Roman wrapped an arm around my shoulder. He was silent for a moment.

  “What is it?” I said.

  “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if I’d ever be able to move into my new house.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You mean the one right next door to mine? Why wouldn’t you?”

  He pulled me tighter against him. “I don’t know. I hate to intrude on you. Make you think I’m stalking you or something.”

  I shoved him away playfully. “I know you’re not a stalker. Besides, I can come visit you. We can have sleepovers…”

  “You can marry me,” he said.

  I laced my fingers through his and tipped up my face for a kiss. “I haven’t said no.”

  “You haven’t said yes, either.”

  “Okay, how about I promise to give you an answer by the time this entire situation is over.”