by Kali Harper
Darby shook her head. “I don’t know. When you told us we’d been gone since the other night, it didn’t feel like it. Every time you talked to us, it felt like an ongoing conversation. Time for us didn’t exist.”
“So why me?” When Darby met my gaze, I continued. “Lance said a Canundrum only appears when an opportunity arises. Aunt Lucy was there with me, so why not pick her?”
“Lucy’s nice and all, but…”
“You were worried about your uncle.”
“Yes. Not only that, but you almost sat on us.”
Lance laughed, then waved his hand as if to apologize. “Sorry. Go on.”
“I realize you couldn’t actually hurt us,” Darby said, staring at Lance, “but it felt strange, like we were being suffocated.”
“Then why did you tell us you were Morpheus?” I asked.
“What do you think would’ve happened to us if we didn’t?”
“I already knew,” Lance told them. “Once you name a Canundrum, it should reverse itself. When that didn’t happen, I knew something was off.”
“You knew,” I said, my voice harder than I intended, “ and you didn’t think to warn me?”
“It was bound to you,” Lance reminded me. “Telling you would’ve told them, and I needed them to trust you. Whoever was inside the Canundrum may have seen something. Calling them out on a lie would’ve done more harm than good.”
“So you expected this to happen?”
“Eventually.” He shrugged. “You weren’t in any danger, Astrid. I made sure of it.”
“You told Sammy.” It wasn’t a question.
“I had to.”
Funny, I didn’t pick up on it. Apparently, I wasn’t as good at reading Sammy’s mind as I thought.
“Can we get back on topic, please?” Lance asked. “Morpheus is still missing and we have no idea where he’s gone.”
“Or any leads,” I said.
He shot me a glare, then looked back at Izzy and Darby. “Please, if there’s anything you can remember, anything you saw or overheard, tell us. You aren’t in any trouble, and I’ll be sure to diffuse whatever happens between you and your families, but this is a serious issue, one that could get far worse if it isn’t resolved soon. Besides Astrid and her aunt, was there anyone else you saw inside the shop between the time you walked in and when Astrid carried you out?”
“We couldn’t see anything,” Darby said.
“Shadows, mostly,” Izzy explained. “Blurred shapes. There was a strange whooshing noise, you know, like those heart monitors for babies. I hate that sound.”
“You couldn’t talk to each other?” I asked, knowing the sound all too well as it happened whenever I got too much water in my ears.
“We could, but it was too loud.”
“It echoed,” Darby added, wincing as she did. “It was pitch dark aside from this strange window we could see out of.”
“Did anything seem strange outside the store before you walked in?” Lance asked. “Did you see anyone else?”
“Darien was a few doors down in his big trench coat.”
“Wait, I saw him too,” I said, thinking back to my short time spent on the sidewalk before Lance walked up and almost scared me to death. “Skinny guy with an odd limp?”
“Yup, but he’s always like that.”
“Resident vampire,” Lance told me.
“In daylight?”
“The wards cast around Fairmount Square and Emberdale protect all beings, including the vampires from whatever would cause them harm.”
“Then why does he need a trench coat?” It may have been the ensemble in almost every vampire movie I’d ever seen, but surely he didn’t need it.
“It’s how he carries his products,” Darby said, a huge smile on her face. “Wands, Astrid.”
“Black Market wands?”
“Oh no, these are the real deal,” Lance said. “In fact, many of the ones he carries are centuries old from the oldest and most powerful individuals in our entire history. Good luck affording one, though.”
“You don’t want a hand-me-down anyway, dear,” Ida said, having finished her cup of tea. “They can get rather unruly once they realize you aren’t their original master.”
“Okay, so Darien was there. What else?” I asked.
Darby gave my question some thought, then said, “I don’t know her by name, but she’s the lady who usually hands out the flowers at the top of the hill.”
“Oh, you mean the one that looked like my nana?” Izzy asked.
“Laura,” Lance said with a nod.
“Lovely woman. Such a shame what happened to her,” Ida said. “She used to be a lot like Ronan with her flowers, but when a Static Storm stripped her of her powers, she had nothing left to give.”
“Static storms are temporary, though,” I said, remembering what Connie had told me them. They were extremely rare, making most magic nonexistent much like the picture on a television set when the signal goes out.
“So long as you don’t try to use magic during one, they are. Word has it she tried to tend to her flowers as the storm would’ve wiped them out completely. By doing so, she lost the little power she had left.”
“So she sells flowers she’s grown magic-free to stay within the community,” Lance finished for her.
“That’s terrible.” Two months ago, I wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with magic, but now, I couldn’t imagine not having it. It was second nature, like breathing. My heart ached for Laura, and I hadn’t even met her. “She sounds like someone I should sit and have tea with.”
“She’d love the company,” Ida agreed. “Perhaps tomorrow.”
Was she volunteering me for an interview? “No, not again. This is Lance’s case, not mine. We no longer have to worry about the Canundrum.”
“My mother’s right,” Lance said. “As much as I’d hate to admit it, folks open up to you. I need to head over there in the morning, so you can go with me. I wanted to check in with Darien to see if maybe he overheard something, possibly a scream, and when. We still don’t have a proper time on when this all took place. Darby’s clock was at four in the afternoon, the one in Morpheus’ office was twelve, and when you and Lucy arrived, it was one day later. We need to know what time everything happened, starting with the moment those girls walked through the door and when time slowed to a crawl.”
“What if it happened when we got there?” Darby asked, sitting up.
“I hadn’t considered that.” Lance rubbed the back of his neck.
“The outside of the shop was fine, but before we were put in the Canundrum, all of the books inside the front room flew up to the ceiling and stayed there.”
“It was a trap,” Ida said, wringing her hands in her lap. “The girls must’ve triggered it.”
“What’re you saying?” I asked. “Did Morpheus know someone was coming for him?”
“It would seem so.” Ida was quiet for a long moment. “When a witch is threatened, what do we do?”
“Ask Sammy to double the wards.”
“Yes, and other witches may do something similar. Morpheus knew something was going to happen. I may be wrong, and please forgive an old woman for her nonsense, but what if the slowed time was so Morpheus could trap his intruder inside the Canundrum?”
My heart sank once I realized where Ida was going with all of this. “The girls were early. They set off the trap, leaving whoever Morpheus was preparing for to walk right in without a challenge.” Still, there was one thing I didn’t understand. “Why didn’t time reset itself after the trap was sprung?”
“It’s a Turning spell,” Ida explained. “Time may have slowed in the shop, but it was contained to whatever was present at the time. It won’t lift until Morpheus returns as he was the one who cast it and he’s the only one who can safely disarm it without damaging the establishment or those around it.”
“Which means we have no idea where he is or who may have gone after him.”
“We
do know one thing,” Lance said, his voice grim. “Whoever went after Morpheus saw the girls walk in.”
“He was casing the place?” Darby screamed, causing Izzy to jump.
“Or she. You two need to remain in Emberdale until this is all over. You’ll be safe here with Astrid and the help of Sammy’s wards.”
“Where are you going?” I asked, getting to my feet when Lance did the same.
“I have the information I need for now. I suggest we all get some rest, then we can visit Fairmount Square in the morning.”
“So you really want me to tag along?” To be honest, I would’ve preferred staying at home with the girls. At least then I knew we’d be safe.
“Yes. I know when I’m not wanted and this is one of those times. They’ll open up to you more than they would for me.”
“I thought you said you’d speak with Darien.”
“I will, but Laura might not be the only other person who was around at the time. In any case, I’ll meet you outside Harris’ in the morning. I’ll have coffee waiting for you.”
Seeing as I had no other choice, I nodded and let him out, helping Ida with her things as she chased after him.
“Don’t worry. Things will be back to normal before you know it,” she said, repositioning her hat before joining Lance outside his silver Station Wagon.
I watched them go, and by the time I locked up for the night, both Izzy and Darby had fallen asleep on the sofa. Whenever something magically mysterious happened in our small town, sleep was the last thing on my mind.In fact, I was still thinking about the Canundrum and how Morpheus knew his attacker before any of this ever began. If he’d known, why didn’t he go after the assailant himself instead of waiting for him to arrive? Working in a broom shop or whatever it was, he had to expect other visitors, so why did he wait?
“Because his attacker was expecting it,” Sammy purred, walking in through the cat door in the kitchen. “You really need to quiet your thoughts. I can tell you everything that happened tonight and I wasn’t even here.”
“Yeah, well at least you’re the only one who can hear me,” I said.
“For now, but my wards can only silence your concerns for so long. You need to focus on it.”
“Later. I have other things to worry about.”
“And if Morpheus’ attacker can hear your every thought? What then?” He jumped onto the counter in front of me as I busied myself with the few dishes we hadn’t washed.
“Can’t you shield them?”
“I am, but the more you come into your powers, the more dangerous this will be. You must control them.”
“I’ll try.”
“Don’t try. Do.” He hopped down with a thud, then glanced over his shoulder at me as he stepped toward the living room. “The dishes can wait until tomorrow. The least those girls can do is clean up after themselves and help out. We are protecting them, after all.”
“Speaking of, I need you to ward—”
“Already done. Now, go to sleep. I need a few hours to myself without hearing your every thought.” He meant well and was a terrible tease, but right then, I wanted to hit him. It wasn’t like I was trying to project my thoughts, and thank goodness only he could hear them, but he was right, I had to stop—
“Bed. Now.”
“Okay. Okay. I’m going, but don’t act like you don’t care,” I said, scooping him in my arms as I turned off the living room light and headed up the steps. “I know you do.”
“You’re my charge, it’s my job—”
“Not at this level.” Smiling, I said, “I love you too, and I promise to do whatever I can to keep my thoughts under control.” Starting with sleep.
Chapter Seven
Fairmount Square looked identical to the day before, only now, I had Lance walking with me instead of Lucy. Sammy followed at my heels, sharing his distaste for the entire thing by constantly shouting in the back of my mind. He didn’t use words, mind you, but annoying cat meows and other such nonsense he’d never do if anyone else was around to hear it.
“I could’ve left you at home, you know?” I threw back over my shoulder at him. “I can feel your eyes burning into my skull.”
“I’m not a babysitter,” Sammy hissed, snapping his mouth shut when Lance glanced at him. “Well I’m not.”
“There’s no magic to protect them,” I told him, turning for The Magician’s Closet once I spotted it. Lance refused to use the portal at Harris’ bakery, opening one a few doors down in case our suspect—his suspect—was hanging around. Turning the corner, I released a sigh of relief to see the space outside Morpheus’ shop empty. No one was there.
“You’re my responsibility,” Sammy argued, sitting on his haunches. “Not them. Call their parents and be done with this.”
“Not until we find Morpheus,” Lance cut in, his voice low. “If we send them home and this… whatever he is is still out there, what do you think he’ll do?”
“But the girls didn’t see anything.”
“No, but does our suspect know this? Sending them away would be dangerous, even for you.”
Sammy huffed and looked everywhere but at Lance. “I don’t like this.”
“No one does, but until we can locate Morpheus, this is how it’s going to be.”
“Can we find him?” The only thing I knew about banishment was the bit Maggie and Lucy told me. It was worse than death, a strange limbo without an end. If that were true, how did Lance hope to find a Keeper of Magic without getting banished himself?
“Can’t say I’d mind,” Sammy purred.
“Sammy!”
“What? If you aren’t thinking of those girls or this missing troll, you’re thinking of him. I’m sick of it.”
“You realize you could close off your mind so you can’t hear my thoughts, right?”
“And if it’s important?”
“Like what? Finding a sunspot you like?”
Sammy glared at me, but if he thought or said anything else, I couldn’t hear him. Beside me, Lance shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes on me.
“What?”
“Are you done warring with yourself, or should I give you more time?” He cocked an eyebrow, and it was then I realized Lance had heard every word. My side of it, anyway.
“Oh god. I am so sorry.”
He smiled and adjusted his glasses, the lenses catching the light enough to make me squint. “How long have you been projecting?”
Looking to Sammy, I waited for him to make his own calculations, then said, “A week? Possibly more? Sammy noticed it first, but no one else knows.”
“Well, get it under control before it gets you in trouble. I can’t have you talking to folks in Fairmount if you’re planning to share your every thought as well.” He was scolding me, actually scolding me. Soon, he’d ground me and send me to my room without dinner. “Understand?”
I nodded as I couldn’t trust my voice to say anything else.
The next time he spoke, his voice was calmer than before. “Try envisioning a bubble around your mind. You remember those migraines you had?”
How could I forget?
And he heard that as well.
“You know the throbbing, full sensation your head gets during a migraine or infection? Focus on that feeling and make your magic work for you, not against you. So far, you’ve used your magic through instinct alone, but it won’t be enough if you plan to pass Morpheus’ test.”
If that happens.
“It will, but keeping your mind open like this is dangerous for you and everyone you care about. We can quiet your projections for now until you can do it on your own, which means we need to make a quick stop, first.”
“Harris’ bakery?” Surely there was a charm for this.
“Better. Oswald’s Tokens and Treats.”
“Oswald’s what?” I hadn’t seen a shop even remotely close to that name, so when Lance started up the hill away from The Magician’s Closet, I hurried after him.
> “He’ll fix you up, then we can get started.” Was Lance smiling? I thought for sure having to take a break from his investigation would’ve upset him, but that was definitely a smile.
“He’s smiling because it’s a two-way street,” Sammy explained, practically running alongside me. “He plans to give you a Seer’s charm, and not the good kind.”
Doing my best to direct my thoughts to Sammy, I asked, “How do you know?”
“Because I read his thoughts.”
“You can read his thoughts?” Since when?
“Always, but it goes against the familiar’s code. I could get in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out. We’re talking taken away from you and sentenced to a mortal life as a cat.” I could feel the panic rising in his chest and had to do whatever I could to keep it from affecting me enough for Lance to notice. It was harder than I thought. “You’re my charge, and it’s my responsibility—”
“To protect me. I know.”
“No matter what,” he reminded me, his heartbeat pounding in my ears. “What he intends to do will endanger you both.”
“Which is?”
“He wants you to use this charm so you can read everyone else. What they’re feeling, how they’ll react, when they’re lying, and even what the lie’s about.”
“Couldn’t he use the charm himself?”
“He could, but he isn’t the one projecting. At least if you get caught, he can explain the charm away because he was trying to shield your mind.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” If it wasn’t, it should’ve been. Reading minds wasn’t my specialty, and quite frankly, the last thing I wanted to know was whatever was on Lance’s mind. Not unless it came from his own mouth.
“Is what illegal?” Lance asked, having heard my most recent thought.
“Reading someone else’s thoughts?”
“I’m not reading yours, Astrid. You’re projecting. The two are completely different.” He gestured to a store a few paces in front of us, the windows tinted so only the letters on the glass were legible.
“Looks shady.” If this was a bakery, it wasn’t one I’d ever eat in.
