Full Moons, Dunes & Macaroons_A Cozy Witch Mystery

by Erin Johnson

  I added a couple of spoonfuls of the beetroot to my mixture, then used a spatula to fold it all together. Gradually the batter took on a bright pink hue. I rolled my eyes at myself as I scraped and turned the bowl. Not like I could judge Wiley. Hank had tried to talk to me last night and I'd acted like a child. I scraped and folded the batter again. I'd overreacted… probably. I mean, he had touched her hand and she'd given him a kiss on the cheek. That went beyond acquaintances—heck, I didn't even kiss my friends on the cheek. Then again, this was another culture and maybe that was normal. I frowned. Shaday, while beautiful and composed, had never struck me as the touchy-feely type.

  I jerked when Maple placed a hand on my arm.

  "Oh!" I shook my head to clear it. "Sorry, kinda zoned out there for a moment."

  She nodded, a little crease between her blonde brows. "Yeah… you seemed somewhere else for a moment. Just wanted to make sure you didn't overstir it."

  "Thank you." I meant it. It was easy to do, even when you were fully paying attention. I lifted the spatula and let a ribbon of the pink batter drip back into the bowl and then counted to ten. By the count of nine, the ribbon had fully reabsorbed into the batter.

  "You stopped me just in time—any more and I would have overdone it." I bumped Maple's shoulder. "And that's why you're the boss."

  She grinned, but swatted away the compliment. I piped the macaroon mixture into circles on a baking sheet, tapped the sheet on the tiled counter a few times to loosen any air bubbles, and then set out the tray to dry. In this dry heat, it wouldn't take long. In the meantime, I helped mix and pour Maple's batch of the pistachio cookies. Though I tried to keep my focus, my mind kept drifting to my anger the night before—the way I'd broken that glass. I hoped I could keep my cool during the wedding, which loomed only two days away.

  Wiley brushed past me and plucked up a tray of dried green macaroon cookies, their tops shiny and glossy. "You've got that thundercloud look on your face again."

  I straightened up and licked my lips. "I'm fine." I thought about it. "Did I really look upset?"

  Wiley raised his brows. "I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that look, I'll tell you that."

  I sighed. Maybe my resolution to stay focused on baking wasn't going as smoothly as I'd hoped.

  "You could try that breathing technique I mentioned." He held the tray at chest height and waited for me to answer.

  I spun around and grabbed a tray of pink cookies, ready for the oven. We walked to the wall dotted with ovens and hot with baking fires already blazing. Several of the other bakers stood there, checking their bakes or placing in new batches.

  I scoffed. "Yeah, ’cause that's working so well for you, Mr. Zen."

  "Sorry to interrupt." Wool turned from the wall of ovens and Wiley muttered, "Great, here we go."

  I ignored his comment as I slid the tray of cookies to Iggy. "When you're halfway through I'll take the cover off and let the steam out."

  "No!" Iggy opened his mouth wide. "C'mon, I want to hear this."

  I grinned. "Sorry." I placed the wooden cover over the oven, which muffled Iggy's grumblings.

  "Did I overhear you discussing the Mendel breathing technique?" Wool lifted a dark brow.

  Wiley crossed his arms over his chest, but cocked his head to the side. "You know it?"

  Wool flashed his bright smile. "Yeah. I got really into it about a year ago. Helped me during some stressful times."

  "Uh, yeah." Wiley shifted to face him more fully. "That's uh—that's what I'm using it for." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I can get a little hotheaded sometimes."

  "I think we all can."

  I pictured the glass shattering last night and nodded my agreement.

  "But when I started here after the competition last year, the Mendel breath was difficult—I'll be honest, embarrassing—to use in the kitchen. I mean, people constantly asked me if I was hyperventilating." Wool flashed a bright smile, then lowered his voice. Wiley and I leaned closer to catch his words. "Mena over there was terrified of me. She thought I was about to have a meltdown every time I did the breath. Of course, she only told me this later." He grinned.

  I smiled back. "So… what do you do instead?"

  Wool lifted his palms. "Something easier, and quieter. Four square breath. Try it. I'll talk you through it."

  My eyes slid to Wiley. He licked his lips, then gave a tight nod.

  "All right." Wool smiled and rubbed his hands together. "Close your eyes."

  "Has anyone punched the other one yet?" Iggy yelled through the oven cover.

  I peeled an eye open and hissed, "Shush. We're trying a breathing technique."

  "Oh. And then they're going to fight?"

  I ignored my flame and closed my eyes again.

  "Take a deep breath," Wool coached in his soothing, velvety voice. "Hold it for a count of one, two, three, four, then let it out to a count of four. Pause again, and then take a deep breath for four." He talked us through a few rounds.

  "There. Do you feel better?"

  I opened my eyes and blinked, dazzled by the brightness in the kitchen. I smiled. "I do. I feel like I can take my first deep breath in days." I bit my lip and looked towards my friend. "Wiley?"

  He looked as though he'd just woken up, his lids half closed. "Your voice is so relaxing."

  Wool chuckled. "I get that a lot."

  Wiley blinked, then sighed. "I'll use that one again. Hey, thanks, man."

  Wool clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course." They walked away together. "Have you tried meditation? That was another for me that really…."

  I shook my head, marveling at Wiley getting along with his rival for Maple's affection. "This world never ceases to amaze me."

  "It's quiet out there. Are they dead?"

  I rolled my eyes, but plucked the cover off Iggy's oven. Steam poured out. At home, I would have closed my eyes and savored the moist heat. Here in the desert though, I just felt like I was wilting.

  "We're going to leave the cover off for the last half of the bake," I informed him. Then I leaned closer and whispered, "No, it's even crazier than if they fought—they're actually getting along."

  Iggy's mouth gaped open. "What?" He skirted to the side and looked past me. I followed his gaze to where Wiley and Wool stood together, laughing to the point of having to wipe tears from their eyes. Maple turned toward me, the whites showing all around her eyes, and shook her head. I shrugged at her. I had no idea how that had happened.

  When Iggy finished the bake, I carried the tray back to the workstation and plunked it down in front of Maple. She stood folded over, her head resting in her hand, with her elbow on the counter. She shook her head slowly as she watched Wiley and Wool chanting a baking song together.

  "They're besties now, look at them."

  I sank down beside her and leaned my head against hers.

  "They've completely forgotten about me." Her voice was full of wonder.

  "Well." I sighed. "At least you don't have to worry about them fighting over you anymore."

  "I suppose that's a good thing." She nibbled her fingernail.

  Once the cookies cooled, Wiley, Yann, and Annie piped the rose-flavored buttercream filling in, and then topped it with another cookie, making a little sandwich.

  Maple grinned. "All right, who wants to do the taste test?"

  "I luf macaroons!" Yann raised his hand and Maple nodded. The two of them plucked up a macaroon each, Yann a pink one pistachio one and Maple one of the green pistachio-flavored cookies. They touched them together.

  "Cheers," Maple said, before taking a delicate bite. She closed her eyes and moaned. "Yum."

  Yann threw the whole thing into his mouth. He'd chosen cookies from my batch, so I watched his face to gauge his reaction and hoped they'd turned out. One eye fluttered closed, while his lips twisted to the side. He turned quickly and spat the cookie into his hand. My mouth fell open.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Ugh. Dey are, how
you say, like lemon?" Yann downed the glass of milk that Annie conjured up for him.

  "Sour?" I gasped. "How could they have come out sour?" Maybe the rose water had done something unusual to the filling? I plucked up a cookie and nibbled the edge, then immediately spat it out into my hand. "They are sour—the cookie itself. How?" I shook my head. "These were from my batch."

  K'ree plucked up another pink one from a bowl Sam had mixed and shook her head. "This one's delicious."

  Maple ran her hands through her hair. "We won't have enough. We have to figure out what went wrong and all work together to get another batch done. It'll look terrible if we run out of them. Tea's in half an hour, so we can serve some while we make more, and restock their plates."

  I stared at the partly eaten pink macaroon in my hand. "So only mine are bad?" I went back in my head. "I used the right amount of flour and sifted it well. I even did an extra pass through the sieve. And even though I got distracted for a minute there, the ribbon test meant I stopped at the right time. I didn't add anything unusual except the beetroot for coloring."

  Annie shook her head at the jar of fuchsia powder. "That wouldn't have made them taste badly."

  Maple slid up to me and gave me a careful look. "Imogen. What were you thinking about when you were mixing and got distracted?"

  "She had that 'I'm going to murder someone' look on her face." Wiley folded his arms.

  "I was thinking about last night." I bit my lip.

  "You got really upset last night." Maple grabbed my upper arms and gave them a little squeeze. "Remember in the competition when you made Rhonda and Francis kiss—before they were together?"

  "You matchmaker, you." Annie winked at me.

  "It was because you'd accidentally poured your feelings into the bake, remember?" Maple grimaced.

  I nodded, my stomach sinking.

  "I think that may have happened again today."

  I sighed. "You're right. You have to be." I looked around at my friends. "I'm so sorry, everyone. I'll do better this next time. I'll work on them so no one has to do double and then—"

  Maple grimaced and I stopped short. "What?"

  She took a deep breath. "Don't be mad."

  "Oh geez, what?" I slumped.

  "I think it'd be best if you took a break from the kitchen for the rest of today."

  I shook my head.

  "You're stressed—understandably. Why don't you take a breather? Explore the riad?" Maple's big eyes pleaded with me.

  "I can be more useful here." I folded my arms. I'd go crazy if I had to sit around sweating in my rooms and twiddle my thumbs, with nothing to think about but the wedding.

  "I hate this as much as you do." Maple squeezed my arms again. "You're my best friend. But I don't think you're feeling your best today—take a break?" She winced. "Please don't hate me."

  I rolled my eyes. "Agh. Geez." I grabbed her wrists. "You're the sweetest person in the world, how could I hate you?"

  She pouted.

  I slumped and my eyes dropped, ready to accept defeat. Then I spotted a little roll of paper in Maple's apron pocket. She'd been making a list earlier of items she wanted from the marketplace here in Calloon. I snatched the scroll. "Fine. I'll stay out of the kitchen, but I'm still going to make myself useful. I'll go to the market and get what you wanted."

  Her eyes grew round. "By yourself?"

  I untied my apron and yanked it over my head. It got caught on my bun and I twisted to extricate myself.

  "Imogen." She moved closer and lowered her voice. "You don't know your way around. And you're not the best at directions…."

  "Wow." I folded my arms. "The compliments just keep coming."

  I grinned as she grew flustered, a flush creeping up her neck. "I didn't— No, I meant—" She huffed. "It's not the safest city and you don't know your way around it. what if you wander into the wrong part of town? Or get kidnapped?" Her mouth formed a little O. She sucked in air. "Or what if Horace finds you. You said you thought you saw him last night."

  I shook the scroll and grinned at her. "I'll be fine, I'm a big girl. And my eyes were probably playing tricks on me, but he wouldn't hurt me anyway." I walked toward the door, my steps quick. I kept the grin plastered to my face.

  "We'll missss you, Imogen." I glanced back. Sam blinked at me, his shoulders slumped.

  I chuckled. "Aw, Sam, I'll be back before you know it."

  Maple clasped her hands together. "Oh. At least see if Francis will go with you?"

  I smiled and waved and wished everyone luck and stepped out into the arched hallway, where I buried my face in my hands and let the tears flow.

  I was a mess, an absolute mess of a witch. I'd let my emotions get the best of me last night and broken a glass and had a fight with Hank, and now I'd ruined a bake and been banished from working alongside my friends in the kitchen. I was the worst. The absolute worst.

  I used the back of my hand to wipe the tears from my face and dragged my feet down the hallway, passing several closed doors. I headed right, then left, then up a staircase we definitely hadn't taken on our way to the kitchen, back down a ramp and finally found myself in another hallway, dotted with potted palms and hanging rugs. I sighed. Just like me to get lost, too. I hadn't seen a single person since leaving the kitchen, but I'd heard voices behind some of the doors. Maybe someone would find and help me if I just started screaming?

  I groaned and leaned my shoulder against the hanging rug to my right. Only, I kept leaning and leaning. My stomach lurched as I tumbled through the hidden opening behind the rug and fell into darkness.

  4

  In the Broom Closet

  "Ah!" I tripped over my own feet and fell hard on my hip. I sat in near darkness and blew my bangs out of my eyes. "Ow."

  "Did you hear something?"

  "Besides your terrible singing?"

  "Be nice to me or I'll sing louder."

  "You wouldn't dare."

  The female voices sounded nearby, and one seemed familiar. I stifled a groan and rolled onto my hands and knees on the gritty tiled floor. This part of the palace hadn't been cleaned in a while. Then again, I seemed to be in a hidden room so maybe no one even knew it was here. I stood slowly, my hip aching, and dusted my hands off on my skinny jeans. Then I straightened up and looked around.

  My eyes quickly adjusted to the dimness of the closet-sized room. Behind me hung the rug, but in front of me a wooden screen let in some light through its lace-like pattern. Behind it, figures moved and light blazed in orange streaks. I stepped closer and peered through one of the openings.

  Shaday, or rather five Shadays, spun in unison, fire trailing from their hands, then they all dropped into a crouch. My mouth fell open—not only at the number of the princess I saw, but at the way they all moved. It was like a dance, but also a fight, with all five moving in perfect timing together.

  They spun, leapt, kicked, and flipped, fire whirling around them. Chills crept up my arms and neck, as she—well they—danced to a high voice humming some exotic, sliding tune that echoed off the tall ceiling.

  I spotted the singer, a curvy blonde girl who stood in the corner against a table draped in a white canvas tarp. Tarps and stacked furniture lined the walls, as if they'd pushed them out of the way to make room for Shaday's martial arts-like dance. I sniffed as I realized why the girl looked familiar. She was Elke, Bernhardt's daughter, who'd looked so uncomfortable at the feast the night before.

  Shaday did a backflip and dropped immediately into the splits, her soft boots scuffing across the tiled floor. She stayed there, arms lifted overhead with a rope of fire stretched between her hands, and panted. Her chest heaved with her breath. Then her fire and the doppelgangers disappeared, leaving only one Shaday, who rolled over and lay on the patterned tile floor, spread eagle. I resisted the urge to break into applause. Not only had that been the most impressive display of athleticism I'd ever seen, but from Shaday? Who knew she could move? Who knew she could do anything besides float
into rooms in gorgeous gowns and raise an elegant eyebrow now and then in a rare show of emotion.

  Elke walked forward, staring at a stopwatch in her hand. "Best time yet—three minutes and forty-five seconds. Did you get burned?"

  Shaday, her chest still heaving, propped up on an elbow and watched Elke approach. She peeled some tan gloves that reminded me of pantyhose off her arms and tossed them to the blonde girl. The lacy tattoos on her left hand became visible. Elke caught the gloves and looked them over.

  "No. They held up until the last moment. The gloves probably would have gone even longer, but I ran out of steam."

  Elke sank down and sat cross-legged beside Shaday, still looking the gloves over. She smiled. "Not bad, huh? Next time I'll enchant them with a longevity spell not just for fire endurance, but for the wearer, too. With the multiplier spell you are burning through your magic five times faster, you know? But you're getting better. It looked really impressive."

  Shaday grinned up at her and my heart nearly stopped. As crazy a feat as I had just seen her perform, an actual smile seemed like spotting a yeti. Who was this and what had she done with Shaday?

  "Scoot closer."

  Elke scoffed. "You scoot."

  "I'm too exhausted to move," Shaday whined.

  Elke laughed, her blonde curls bouncing over her shoulders as she shifted beside the splayed-out princess. Shaday nestled her head on Elke's lap and the blonde girl lifted a hand to stroke black braids out of the princess's face. I cocked my head to the side. These two were certainly close. I remembered Bernhardt saying part of the reason he'd been invited to the wedding had been his daughter's friendship with Shaday. I frowned. Last night, Elke had seemed as though she was having nearly as bad a night as I was. Was she not happy for Shaday? Maybe her dad's embarrassing remarks had put her in a bad mood.

  I shook my head at myself. I'd been startled when I fell through the rug and had been transfixed by the dancing, but now I was just spying. I really should go… or ask them for directions. Though there didn't seem to be a way through the screen to the room beyond. I turned to leave, but paused out of curiosity when Elke spoke again.