Tea & Croakies

by Sam Cheever

  A vibrant rainbow flapped past overhead, feathers raining down to get stuck in my and Lea’s hair. SB landed on the uppermost shelf and twitched his wings, dancing from foot to foot. “Blast ye blackguards straight to bleep…Ye’re the devil’s bleep and I’ll see ye boiling in a pot of yer own bleepety bleep blood!”

  Lea’s eyebrows lifted at the Parrot’s unconventional contribution to the conversation. “Is that parrot being magically bleeped?”

  I nodded, feeling bereft and sad. “I think the previous KoA developed the spell because she got tired of hearing him curse like a sailor.”

  Lea nodded. “Remind me to look into that. I have an acquaintance who deserves to be bleeped.”

  I nodded. “You came here to tell me something?”

  She rubbed a hand over her forehead, shoving tawny hair aside. “I intercepted a message in my scrying globe a little while ago. Someone’s trying to get hold of Sebille. I came over to tell her to check the mirror.”

  My stomach twisted. “Do you know what it’s about?”

  Lea sighed, holding an arm across her belly as if she were about to be sick. “I’m afraid so. It looks like Sebille and Rustin aren’t the only ones who are suffering the Quillerans’ rage. Apparently, they paid a visit to the Enchanted Forest.” Lea swallowed hard, fresh tears filling her eyes. “Naida, the Quillerans razed Toadstool City with devastation magic. It’s gone. Burned to the ground. All of it. Even Queen Sindra’s palace.”

  13

  What Bleep Hath we Wrought?

  I stood in front of the mirror, tears sliding soundlessly down my face. A black and brown, scorched picture of devastation spread from the mirror as far as the eye could see. Fairies darted into the wreckage, pulling out whatever they could find that had survived the attack.

  It couldn’t have been much.

  I prayed there’d been no children in the city when the Quillerans attacked─ no ill or aged. And I swore to myself that I would avenge the destruction.

  I’d asked to speak to Sindra, but I really hadn’t expected her to give me an audience. She had her hands full trying to recover from what had to be an overwhelming experience.

  I was shocked when she whirred into view, several guards surrounding her in the face of the new danger.

  She looked worn, her pretty face pale where it wasn’t smudged with soot and dirt. It didn’t surprise me at all that the queen was diving into the work with her subjects. Sprites were a singular breed of magic user, with a different value system than most.

  She looked at me, her wings wilted and worn as weariness overcame her tiny frame. Her slim shoulders were slightly bowed under the weight of their loss, but the eyes that found mine carried more than their share of rage. “I understand the witches took my daughter.”

  I didn’t try to soften my response. I realized Sindra would have little patience for it. “Yes. I wanted you to know I’m putting all my resources into finding her. I won’t let the Quillerans harm Sebille.”

  Sindra inclined her head, unsurprised by my declaration. She acted as if it was an expected response on my part. I guessed it was, given that Sebille was both my friend and employee. And I was a trusted member of Queen Sindra’s inner circle.

  “Lea and I want to help you regroup from the attack. What can we do?”

  Sindra ran a pale, smudged hand over her brow. “Nothing. We must take what we can gather and find a new home in the forest.”

  She must have seen the doubt in my face because she frowned. “What? Speak, Naida.”

  “It’s just that I don’t think it’s safe there anymore. I think you need to consider relocating to another area entirely.”

  She didn’t look surprised. No doubt she’d had the same thought. “I agree. I’ve begun negotiations with the council in Illusion City. The Illusory Forest would be a good option for us. But we can’t do that today. The sun will be down soon. We must find shelter and protection for the near future.”

  I chewed my lip. “I might have a solution.”

  Sindra’s dire expression cleared and a flicker of hope lit her gaze. “What is it, Naida? I’m willing to listen to all suggestions.”

  “It isn’t perfect…”

  “Nothing will be perfect,” she told me. “Right now, I’ll settle for good.”

  I glanced at Lea, who stood out of sight of the mirror, listening. Since she was a witch, she’d thought it would be better for me to present the option to the queen.

  I turned back to Sindra. “Lea has a large greenhouse where she grows her herbs and flowers. It’s enclosed, heavily warded and will keep your people warm and safe in an environment they’ll enjoy. It’s not perfect, we’d need to add a fountain for water and we can plant toadstools around the plants, which will take time to grow, but Lea can cast an invisibility spell on the greenhouse, which will be geared specifically against witches. I think it could be a good, short or long-term solution.”

  Sindra seemed to consider it carefully. After a moment she nodded, some of the tension draining from her face. “Yes. That is more than acceptable. Please tell your friend I am deeply grateful. We’ll make sure her plants thrive as long as we live there.”

  Lea smiled widely, nodding her pleasure that Sindra had accepted.

  Sindra’s shoulders straightened. “We’ll look for the sigil calling us home,” she said. “Now I must go give the others the good news.” She started to fly off and then stopped, turning to me with an expression that was less queenly than motherly. “I have duties I can’t put aside right now. My people need me. I’m counting on you to find my daughter, Naida.”

  I nodded. “You have my word.”

  I left Lea to see to the preparations of the greenhouse. She assured me she’d set a Fae sigil into the warding when it was ready. The sigil would lead Sindra’s people to their new temporary home. A magical homing beacon.

  I had other work to do and it looked like I’d be doing it alone. That thought didn’t fill me with as much despair as it should have.

  I had an idea.

  Turning to my friend, I said six words I never dreamed I’d say to anyone. “I need to borrow your frog.”

  Lea narrowed her gaze on me. She looked, for a moment, as if she would argue, but something in my expression must have warned her off. She nodded instead. “Come with me to the greenhouse. He’s in the pond.”

  I frowned. “I didn’t know you had a pond in the greenhouse.” It was good news ─ one less thing for Lea to do before the Fairies could be called home.

  “It’s new. I created it just for Wally.”

  I fought to keep a straight face. “Wally?”

  Lea grinned. “My frog. The name just came to me. Isn’t it great?”

  I really didn’t want to comment on what it was, so I settled for a nod.

  The greenhouse all but filled an entire empty lot behind Lea’s shop, Herbal Remedies with Mystical Properties. She’d purchased the empty lot for almost nothing when she acquired her current shop. The lot was a virtual island, with zero street access. Buildings had been constructed all around it. When the planning had been done for our street, the space had been slated as a parking lot for Croakies. At the last moment, the owner of Croakies, an ancient sorcerer named Bandy Joe Barrows, had told the city he no longer wanted to purchase the lot.

  It had been a dirty trick on his part. The acreage was basically landlocked at that point. The only access was an alley between Lea’s shop and Croakies, and nobody wanted to pay the exorbitant rates Bandy Joe was going to charge to get to it.

  Not to mention there would be no visibility for the location.

  The end result is that Bandy Joe created a magical buffer which came in very handy when the KoA in place had to deal with a particularly…rambunctious…magical artifact.

  For example, there’d been a pink elephant once. Her name had been Rosalynn. I’d had to house her in the lot for a full two weeks because she refused to enter the artifact library.

  Fortunately, for Sebille and me, people
tended to ignore pink elephants. Therefore, nobody on the street seemed to notice there was one living right under their noses, trumpeting, rolling a giant pink ball around, and pooping mountains they could have skied down.

  When Lea bought Herbal Remedies, she’d also purchased the orphaned lot, and had added the enormous greenhouse so she could grow her own stock.

  I loved visiting Lea’s greenhouse. No matter the weather outside, the temperature inside was always a constant seventy-four degrees. She’d also created a magical weather system that provided occasional rain, constant daytime sunlight, and an insect ecosystem, which allowed only insects that supported plant growth and health and repelled scavenger bugs.

  I stopped just inside the door, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply. The combined scent of flowers and herbs was a balm to my frazzled psyche and I just wanted to take a moment to savor it.

  “He’s probably in the pond,” Lea told me. “Back here.”

  I reluctantly gave up my moment of peace and followed her to the back of the large greenhouse. Like the artifact library, Lea had created a space that was twice as large inside as it was on the outside.

  One of my favorite spells.

  We hadn’t even reached the pond before I heard Wally’s throaty bellow.

  “Bawump, bawump,” he said in greeting.

  Lea stopped in front of a Rosemary patch and smiled down at the pair of bulging eyes riding the surface of the pond. As we stared at him, Wally rose just high enough out of the water to bellow again. “Bawump.”

  Lea glanced my way. “Do you want me to get him?”

  I fought feelings of inadequacy. I was a third level sorceress, for goddess sake. I should be able to square my broad shoulders and step up to frog handling. But I was nothing if not self-aware. It had been all I could do to handle Mr. Slimy when I’d had to do it.

  Handling a wet bullfrog that was probably slimy from the water would no doubt send me screaming out of the greenhouse, earning me a permanent sissy-girl label. “Would you?”

  She eyed me carefully but apparently decided not to rib me. It was the kind of thing that made me love Lea above all my friends.

  Well, that, and she had this awesome greenhouse.

  Lea moved to the edge of the pond and picked up a small, plastic basket I hadn’t noticed before. It was filled with holes and had a lid she could close over the top.

  She wiggled her fingers over the pond and said a few words in Latin that I would have recognized if I’d paid as much attention to my Latin courses as I had my magical manipulation class.

  What can I tell you? Mag Man is so much more fun.

  The water in the pond rose up in a column underneath the frog, draining away to leave him exposed and sitting on a pedestal of clear, blue water.

  Lea stepped into the pond and scooped the basket underneath Wally, closing the lid before he could hop back out.

  As soon as she stepped from the pond, flip-flops squeaking from the water and the hem of her long skirt dripping, the water splashed back down to fill the curvy perimeter of the pool.

  She handed me the basket. It was surprisingly heavy. I barely resisted a fat joke, realizing that my posterior region had grown an inch or two as the age of thirty stalked closer. I had zero room to talk.

  Or room in my jeans for that matter.

  “Thanks,” I told Lea. “I’ll try to have him back in an hour.”

  She nodded. “No worries. I have lots to do today.”

  Like save an entire race of supernormals, for example.

  I went over my plan as I headed back to the shop, Wally proclaiming his displeasure with his new accommodations the entire way.

  I’d use Rustin’s Book of Blank Pages again, finding the clock tower page and sending Wally through it. I’d follow him inside and, with any luck, the true essence of Wally, or whatever his real name was, would greet me there.

  Then it was a simple matter of asking him questions about how he’d become a bullfrog.

  If I was very lucky, Wally would be more willing to talk and I could learn more about the artifact and the spell the Quillerans had used. Maybe he could even describe the place where they’d performed the ritual.

  It wasn’t until I stepped through the door into the artifact library that I realized there was a big flaw in my plan.

  I no longer had access to the Book of Blank Pages.

  14

  Chaos by the Book

  I sat on my bed, staring at the basket containing the singing frog that didn’t actually sing. Wally had been suspiciously quiet since we’d entered Croakies. I wondered if he needed to be put into some water or something.

  I was definitely keeping my teacup away from him.

  Just in case.

  In that moment, I would have done anything to have Sebille back. I could really use her help figuring out what to do next. Without the Book of Blank Pages, I had no plan left. I frowned.

  Or did I?

  Croakies had been home base for Keepers of the Artifacts for decades. Maybe even longer. I couldn’t believe none of my predecessors had a helpful book. The Book of Blank Pages might have been a gift from Rustin, but it had taken to me like Wally to water.

  Could it be the only book of its kind? I wished I’d asked Rustin more questions about the book when I’d had the chance. Questions such as, where he’d gotten it, how long he’d had it, and where it had come from.

  Maybe there was another magical book in the inventory downstairs. I perked up at the thought. But I realized that, even if I had one somewhere in the building, I’d never find it in time. My artifact seeking power wouldn’t work in a massive space filled with thousands of artifacts.

  Sebille’s, Rustin’s and even Wally’s fates depended on my finding it fast.

  I sat in a gloomy fog for several moments, wondering how much time I had left to get back to the Quillerans.

  Then I realized that it didn’t matter. No matter what happened over the next few hours, I wouldn’t…couldn’t…give those poor kittens back to the evil witch family.

  My only hope was to find a way to defeat the Quillerans, save Sebille, and return Rustin and Wally’s essences to them before it was too late for them to return.

  If it wasn’t already too late.

  It all came back to the book.

  I needed it.

  Inspiration struck. I jumped off the bed and headed down the stairs.

  When I arrived in the artifact library, I saw that Mr. Wicked was way ahead of me. He was sitting on Shakespeare’s desk, bathing a paw and waiting for me to come to my senses.

  I hurried over, mumbling under my breath. “I really wish cats could talk. It would make my life so much easier.” I tugged the chair close and dropped into it. I’d barely rolled myself forward before a firm pinch tweaked the cheeks of my derriere.

  I leaped out of Casanova’s chair with a squeal of alarm.

  The arms of the chair did a happy dance as I glared down at it. “Stupid chair.”

  I grabbed a different chair and tugged it to the desk, dropping into it and waiting a beat to make sure I wasn’t molested. When no psyche-scarring events occurred, I leaned over the desk, placing my palms over the ancient leather blotter in the center.

  The aged, tooled leather had been created to look like a book, with Shakespeare’s family sigil in the center of what would be the front cover, and the family motto in blurred gold letters along the spine. Non Sanz Droict. Not without Right.

  Fortunately, as the current KoA, I had the right to utilize the magic in the desk to find a book.

  I started with the obvious…or, what would have been obvious if I’d been thinking straight, and asked for a book about a tea infuser that stole a person’s essence. The blotter warmed and shifted underneath my hands, the surface bubbling as if it were working out the problem.

  Then a flash of light occurred above the blotter and a slim volume entitled, Soul Magic and Other Untoward Things, appeared, settling gently onto the scarred leather surface.
>
  I ran my hand over the book, smiling.

  The blotter shifted once more. Then cooled beneath my touch.

  “Oh no, you don’t. I’m not done with you.”

  I moved the Soul Magic book off the blotter and placed my hands palms down on the blotter again. “I need a guide book for artifact keepers.”

  The blotter hardly even needed to shift through its options before another flash lit the air in front of my face and a large paperback with a bright yellow and black cover sifted down.

  “Artifact Keeping for Dummies,” I read. I glared at the blotter. “Very funny.”

  The blotter lifted off the desk and went vertical, doing a happy dance on the air.

  “Try to focus, now,” I told the blotter. “I’m looking for a book that has no words on the pages. A book which finds what I need when I need it. Even if I don’t know I need it.”

  The blotter went very still for a beat. Then it slammed down onto the desk. Hard. I jerked my hands back just in time to keep my fingers from being smashed underneath it.

  “Temper much?” I mumbled.

  But the magic-infused blotter had already begun its search. It was shifting and bubbling away, the leather scorching hot against my skin.

  The artifact’s version of a flashing cursor continued until I thought it was stuck. I wondered if I’d need to magically reboot the thing.

  Instead, I decided to wait it out. My attention was drawn to the Soul Magic book. With mixed emotions of excitement and dread, I opened the book.

  I gasped and dropped it, shoving my chair back as the face on the very first page seemed to rise above the page.

  He turned bright black eyes in my direction and smiled, his expression more than a little weird and scary. I read the inscription underneath the photo, seeing that it was a picture of Doctor Mortimus Osvald, Professor of Devilry at the New York Institute of Magic.

  I couldn’t decide if he looked evil or insane.

  Maybe both?

  I quickly turned the page but, unfortunately, the mad doctor appeared on that page too. He turned his head to look at the contents of the page. His scraggly dark brown hair hung past compact ears and clung to his heavily veined neck. His skin was ruddy, rough-looking, as if someone had scoured it regularly with sandpaper to rough it up. His lips were full, cracked and dry, and his black eyes seemed to follow me no matter how I moved.