by Amy Boyles
"I am. My ride should be here any minute."
"Great. You can wait with me downstairs." I paused. "You know, when you start college this fall, you won't have time to be on your phone all day like you are now."
Reid groaned. "I know. Luckily it's only a few classes, so my schedule shouldn't be too bad."
Sera stood at the dresser, running a brush through her hair. "I thought Roman was coming up to get you."
"Fat chance of that," I said. "I'm not letting him anywhere near y'all, not after the last time, when Grandma decided to drag up every personal detail from his past."
"Good plan," Sera said. "We'll be in here playing cards and waiting for dinner, since we can't leave."
Reid heaved herself off the bed. "See you downstairs, Dyl."
"Okay." After she'd closed the door behind her, I turned to Sera. "Who is she on her phone with all the time?"
Sera shrugged. "No clue."
"Maybe it's a boy," Milly said. "Go fish!" she said to Grandma.
Grandma straightened the green scarf around her neck. "I hope it's not a boy. Maybe it's a new girl she's made friends with. Perhaps they're planning a pedicure outing."
"I could only hope that's it." I pulled on some sneakers that Grandma had also spelled for me, tightened my ponytail and left the room.
I found Reid outside. I'd been there less than two seconds when a candy-apple red convertible swung up the road. It screeched to a stop, sending gravel and dirt spattering across the driveway.
Jenny Butts clicked off her seat belt and hopped out of the car. I groaned. I'd thought a murder at Balmore was bad enough, but now I had to contend with the Mouth of the South? Pass the Bufferin, please.
Jenny pumped her hands with each word of greeting. "Y'all. Y'all. Y'all."
"Hey, Jenny," I said.
Jenny took my hand and gave me a sympathetic smile. "You doing okay, Dylan? Seeing how there's been a murder and all?"
"How'd you know about the murder?"
"Reid told me," she said.
I shot Reid a scornful look. She shrugged. Not that the whole thing was a secret. Heck, I didn't know if it was. Were people supposed to know? I mean, I guess it would come out eventually.
"What brings you here, Jenny?"
Jenny fingered her blonde Marilyn Monroe curls. "I'm trying hard not to be insulted by the fact that I wasn't invited to this conference."
"A conference where someone was murdered?"
She grinned sheepishly. Lord, what Jenny wouldn't do to have a tidbit of juicy gossip to tell.
I sighed. "Jenny, I don't think this conference is really up your creek. I'm pretty sure what you have to offer at Rustic Touch and Travel wouldn't quite have been up to speed for the attendees here." That was true. Jenny's occupation as a home decor and travel agency owner wouldn't have interested the witches in the least.
"Oh?"
"You wouldn't have a good time."
She smacked a wad of bubble gum before blowing a bubble the size of an orange. Pop. "I think, all things considered, Dylan, I know whether or not I'd have a good time." She gave me a tight, hard grin. "Reid, you ready?"
Wait. Ready to do what?
Reid's cheeks tinged the hue of a rose petal. "Yep. Got all my stuff." She grasped me by the wrist. "Keep me posted on how things are going, okay?"
"Um. Sure." I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs out of it. "Is Jenny giving you a lift home?"
Reid nodded. "Yes, she's been kind enough to offer." She waved and headed toward the car. "Thanks for understanding. Call me if you need anything."
I gave her a weak wave. "Sure. Y'all be careful."
As Jenny slid behind the wheel of the convertible, I couldn't help wondering exactly what was going on. When had my baby sister become friends with the Mouth of the South, and why? Was that who she'd been texting? I felt like she was slipping away only to be devoured by Jenny's crazy gossipmongering.
"Couldn't wait for me upstairs?" Roman had sidled up beside me.
"I thought I'd stand outside, get my body used to the blazing heat before we took off." I hooked one arm over the other and stretched it out. "Did you go upstairs and they told you where I was?"
"No. I ran into Sera and she told me. You ready?"
"To get fried to a crisp while I exercise? Never been readier." It was late afternoon, but the July sun still blazed in Alabama. Part of me wished I hadn't agreed to this whole thing. There was an upside, though. When I fainted from sunstroke, Roman could carry me back in his arms. I wouldn't actually faint, of course. I'd totally fake it so that I'd get to know what it felt like to be carried by a guy who seemed more Thor than human.
He chuckled. I glanced up at him. Smudgy dark lashes framed his green eyes.
"Everything go okay with Gladiolas?" I asked.
He gave a curt nod and looked away. He pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and said, "Are you ready?"
Okay, I guess that meant no more questions about that topic. "Sure. Ready as I'll ever be."
"Then let's go."
***
"Whew," I said, wiping sweat off my brow. "I'm getting tired. How far do you think we've gone?"
Roman, running alongside me, slid his gaze in my direction. "About half a mile."
"So far? Already?" I swallowed a heaving breath, trying not to sound as out of shape as I was. "Wow. Ten miles should fly by," I lied. I wouldn't make it ten miles. I'd be lucky to last ten minutes.
"Do you need to rest?"
"Good Lord, yes."
He slowed to a stop. My shaking knees wobbled as I collapsed to the ground. I lay on my back, staring up at the canopy of pines and oaks that surrounded us on the trail. My lungs filled in strong, racking breaths.
Roman leaned over me. "You okay?"
"Sure. I'll be fine. Just a little hot, that's all."
He placed a hand to my forehead. "Are you dizzy?"
"No." Just pathetically out of shape.
"Need some water?"
"Okay."
He took a hose from the bladder of water on his back and placed it in my mouth. I sucked in the refreshing liquid. If I could stop every ten minutes and drink like a gallon of water, I'd be able to make it at least a mile.
"Thank you." I stared into his dreamy face, trying not to get lost in the sculpted features. Minus the eyes, of course. His shades shielded those from me.
"You'd better get up. There are fire ants all over the trail."
Well, there went that moment. Roman took my hand and pulled me to standing. "All set?"
"You bet."
We took off again, but after about five seconds I stopped. "Listen, it's too hot for me out here. The sun, the sweating, the whole exercising thing—it isn't my cup of tea. I could do it if it were seventy-five degrees and autumn, but one hundred and it's summer—I won't last any longer."
Roman smiled. "Want to walk, then?"
I eyed him skeptically. "You mean like stroll?"
"Yeah. You and me. Let's take a stroll in the woods."
"Sure thing. Let's stroll. There's some stuff I want to ask you anyway." Total lie, but I still needed to keep my distance. Not get tangled up in his hands and hair, or anything.
We set off at a moderate pace. "What did you want to ask?"
Had to make something up fast. "Do you think you've found the killer?"
"Dylan, I shouldn't discuss this with you."
I shrugged. "I know, I know. I'm just wondering. I mean, Sumi does have a diary and all."
"It does point a finger in Stormy's direction, but until there's conclusive evidence, I'm not going to arrest anyone."
"Evidence like you find the vial the poison came from?"
He nodded. "Exactly."
"Let me guess. You searched Stormy's room and didn't find it."
"Right."
"But you searched all the rooms. Maybe the witch has it on her."
He stopped. "Dylan, we're dealing with witches. She probably vanished the bottle as soon a
s she used it."
"Good point." I started walking. "So what do you do now?"
Roman picked up a small stone and palmed it. "We'll see. The pressure's about to start getting to them."
"What do you mean?"
He grinned. "Dumping a load of witches in the same place is asking for trouble. Soon their insecurities will start showing. Not to mention their plain deviousness. Stormy won't be the only one named for murder. There'll be others, and even better motives will start to surface."
It all sounded so fascinating. "Have you seen any good motives yet?" I cleared my throat. "I mean, not that it's any of my business. I'm not being nosy, you know. Just a concerned citizen."
He smirked. "This is an investigation, Dylan. I can't tell you anything about it."
"Right, I know. But I'm sure you're telling Em."
"That's different, she's the queen, and her magic is what's keeping everyone here."
That reminded me. "I was talking to Margaret this morning. You know, Loretta and Sumi's aunt."
"I hope it didn't have anything to do with the murder."
"Of course not. I know better than to snoop around."
"Sure you do."
I cocked my head and gave him a sidelong glance. "Do you want to know what she said, or don't you?"
"Tell me."
"She mentioned that Em's spelling everyone so that they don't realize who you are. Is that true?" He frowned. I took that as a yes. "But she knows who you are. If Em's spelling everyone, why isn't it working on her?"
"That's a good question."
I gave him a triumphant smile. "I knew it was. That's why I told you."
He held out his hand. I opened my palm, and he dropped the rock in it. "What's this?" I asked, inspecting the angular piece of rock.
"An arrowhead."
A gray stone formed of chipped angles filled my hand. The tip was gone, either stepped on or destroyed when the weapon was originally used. "Are you giving it to me for that piece of information? I'm not a paid informant, Roman. I don't work for monetary or ancient artifact gain."
He shook his head. "No. I'm giving it to you because I like you and I wanted you to have it."
I swallowed a wad of pride. "That's very nice of you. Thank you."
"Ready to head back?"
Humble pie tasted a bit, well, humble. "Yes."
***
We walked back up the slope to the house. Witches sprinkled the front lawn, drinking and talking. A group shooed Jean Noir from their midst. The woman slunk away, still clutching her picnic basket full of vials. The trio threw Roman dirty looks as we passed them. Well, I guess he wasn't kidding when he said they didn't want to be cooped up. But really they had lives, same as me and Sera. I had a business that was supposed to open first thing Monday morning. Heck, it was supposed to have opened this morning, since it was Saturday, but clearly that didn't happen. Of course, Sera stood ankle-deep in the same sinking boat as me, waiting with baited breath to see if Roman could wrap up this whole murder thingy so we could get our lives back in order.
Was that unkind? We were talking about a woman who paid the bills saying bad things about others. Maybe not bad things, but airing dirty laundry all the same.
Grandma met us as we turned on the path to the back door of the manor. She took me by the arm. "I'm so glad I found you."
So that you can fill my day with rainbows? "What's going on?"
Roman paused. He tilted his head toward someone shouting up ahead, past the hill that led down to the rear of the house. "I'll be right back."
Grandma threw up her arms. "That crusty inspector with the witch police is back. He's arguing with Gladiolas." Her eyes widened. Grandma leaned over and whispered, "They were talking about your friend."
"Roman?" I said, not too quietly.
"Yes. What other friend would I be talking about?"
"Where are they?"
She pointed in the direction Roman was headed. "That way."
"Ahh," I shrieked. "Why didn't you try to stop him?"
"Who am I, the witch police?"
"Weren't you once?"
She shrugged. "That was a long time ago, Dylan. Old dogs don't continue working the same tired tricks."
"What? Forget it." I whirled around. "He's going to walk right into them." I sprinted after him.
"Wait up! You can't just leave an old lady standing by the side of the road."
Okay, so she had hardly been dumped on the side of the road like a vagabond, but whatever. Grandma shimmied up next to me. She must have used magic because I was running. "I'll distract them while you get your boyfriend out of the way."
"He's not my boyfriend," I panted.
We reached the apex of the hill. Pearbottom and Gladiolas stood by the door, faces red and chests puffed. Roman stopped in his tracks like a spider whose hiding place just got discovered. You know, right before it got squashed dead.
"I told you I'd handle it," Gladiolas said.
Pearbottom yanked a handkerchief from his cape pocket and dabbed his forehead. "But if they're harboring a known fugitive—"
"What makes you think he's a fugitive? Some piddly evidence you have? I've seen the pictures and read the reports. The entire thing was rigged, Pearbottom. Open your eyes." Gladiolas jerked the kerchief from his hand and threw it to the ground.
"How dare you!"
"No. How dare you! Coming here and trying to bungle a respectable investigation with your nosiness. You may leave."
Pearbottom huffed. "Fine. But when you need me, you might find me very, very busy."
"I'll remember that," Gladiolas muttered.
Hmm. I kinda had new respect for the councilwoman. I wouldn't say I wanted to run and jump in her lap or anything, but that was kinda cool. Standing up for Roman and all.
I stood gaping, nearly forgetting the dire circumstance my not-really boyfriend was in until Pearbottom turned toward us.
Instead of coming up with some sort of brilliant magical vanishing thing that could have stopped the inspector from seeing Roman, I instead did the next best thing—I vaulted forward, determined to throw Roman into the nearest line of bushes I could find.
Everything went into slo-mo. Pearbottom pivoted. His gaze latched on to Roman as my hands pressed into his side, ready to catapult him across the lawn. Which, on twenty-twenty hindsight, was probably not all that smart.
Grandma yelled, and a flash of white light engulfed me.
My body pitched to the ground. Roman groaned. I opened my eyes and blinked. The light was gone.
So was Balmore. So were Gladiolas and Pearbottom. I rubbed my eyes and came face-to-face with a horse who happened to have a horn on its head.
"Welcome, Dylan, daughter of Hazel," the unicorn said.
"That's granddaughter, actually."
The unicorn snorted, pawed the ground. "Welcome to Fairyland. We must hurry. A band of fairies know you're here and are determined to sacrifice you to their god."
Awesome. Just another day in my life.
TEN
Either I was dead, or Fairyland was paradise. I was banking on the latter. Trees stippled lush green hills that surrounded us. Wildflowers blanketed the grass, the trace of their sweet aroma reminding me of perfect summer evenings, even though it was daytime. The sun shone brightly, but it didn't sear my skin. I was extraordinarily comfortable. This place was awesome. You could enjoy a summer day without having to deal with the burden of the actual day. I could live here forever.
Don't tell Grandma.
We passed a line of oaks and entered a glen. "You'll be safe here," Titus, the unicorn king, said in his deep, horsey voice.
"Thank you," I said. Roman nodded his approval. We stood, staring at each other, the patient gaze of the unicorn a bit unnerving, if you wanted to know the truth.
I broke the silence first. "My grandmother, Hazel Horton, sent us here."
"You remember the last time we met, you promised to visit me."
"Yes, I do," I said. It
was an agreement made to get Roman out of a pair of handcuffs that couldn't be broken with ordinary magic. Apparently unicorn magic is different—not ordinary at all.
"I thought she might have sent you because of the murders."
"Murders?" I said. "My grandma mentioned that a friend of yours, a unicorn, died, but she didn't say anything about murder." I glanced at the rear of the glen. A small group of unicorns stood in a semicircle, their ebony eyes pointed in our direction. Ah, the patient stare of a horse. Not at all chilling and unnerving.
Titus nickered. "Follow me." He led us over. The animals ducked their heads respectfully as we approached. I assumed it was a bow. I dipped my head out of respect. Roman did nothing.
I elbowed him. "Aren't you going to bow?"
He arched a brow. "Alpha males don't bow. I might nod, but that's as good as it's going to get."
"Aren't you impressed with this place?"
He shrugged. "I've been here before. Remember, my mother was Queen Witch. There isn't much in the witch world I haven't seen."
"So that means you're not impressed."
"No."
"I'm sorry I asked then."
He tipped his head toward me and smiled. "I'm impressed with you."
I gave him a what-you-talking-'bout-Willis look. "I don't follow."
"It takes a lot of grace to deal with these sorts of circumstances. Your grandmother whisked us away to Fairyland, a dangerous place, and you haven't even freaked out yet."
"Excuse me, is that an insult?"
He took my hand. "Not if you don't take it as one."
Titus cleared his throat. He nodded toward a small golden-colored unicorn who wore a necklace made up of silver plates. A starburst opal sat in the center, directly on her breast.
"Anathema, these are our guests from the outer world—Lady Dylan and Sir Roman."
Lady Dylan? Sir Roman?
I flashed Roman a confused look. He leaned over and whispered, "Roll with it."
Okay, I could roll. Heck, I could roll with the best of them. I could roll right side up, upside down, even side to side if I had to.
