I threw up my hands in despair. Gareth clearly woke up on the wrong side of the coffin and I didn’t need his attitude on today of all days.
I drew another steadying breath and headed outside. I walked around the front lawn, stretching my arms overhead and mumbling to myself like a crazy person. If the harpies were on their widow’s walk, they’d think I was two inarticulate words away from the funny farm. Then again, if the harpies were on their widow’s walk, they’d think a fallen star had landed on my front lawn.
“Who might have a good spell to combat excessive glitter?” I asked aloud. Obviously, Lady Weatherby was out of the question. Maybe the Grey sisters could offer a suggestion.
A distant sound drew my attention to the road. It reminded me of bees buzzing. A strange hum.
I stepped off the front lawn and stood in the road, listening intently. I felt something change in the air. A pressure, like when a tornado is about to hit. What now?
Invisible arms gripped my sides and the next thing I knew, I was covered by a heavy blanket.
"I don't think a blanket is going to remove the glitter," I yelled, but my voice was muffled by the thickness of the material. No one answered. My body was lifted off the ground. Spell’s bells! Was someone trying to fly away with me?
"Who is this?" I demanded. "Put me down." I hadn’t taken my anti-anxiety potion yet. I was waiting for as long as possible so that it lasted well into the evening. I knew I’d have a nervous stomach throughout the event. Just because it was a happy occasion didn't mean I'd be free from anxiety.
“No point in struggling,” a raspy voice said. "No one can hear you or see you. This is an invisibility blanket laced with magic thread. It’ll keep your powers on mute.”
I couldn’t use magic to get myself out of this? I tried to summon my will. Sure enough, I felt a tiny spark but no juice. Like a stalled engine.
"What are you doing? This is my wedding day. You're going to ruin it." If the glitter didn't already.
"And you’re ruining our lives," the voice replied. "Do you think we want a bunch of new blood moving into town?"
My thoughts were a tangled web of confusion. "I don't understand. Who are you and where are you taking me?"
"You'll find out soon enough," the voice said. "You may as well be quiet and enjoy the ride."
Fat chance of that. Anyone who knew me at all knew that flights only resulted in one thing. Nausea rolled over me and I didn't even try to fight it. Vomit was my weapon of choice.
"Stars and stones," the voice yelled in disgust.
I couldn't help but laugh, despite my predicament. "I warned you."
"These are brand-new shoes," the voice said. "I don't even know if the stain will come out."
"Should've thought of that before kidnapping me on my wedding day," I said.
Invisible arms shook me so hard that my teeth rattled, reminding me that this was not a game. We drifted downward and I was relieved when I felt my feet touch the ground. Relief was short-lived, though, as I was dragged into a building. I fought the urge to cry. I was covered in glitter and kidnapped only hours before my wedding. Could this day get any worse?
Chapter 18
“You may remove the blanket now, but leave the immobilizing thread in place,” a familiar voice said. A voice I’d hoped to never hear again.
The blanket was yanked off and I stood face to face with the former mayor, Felicity Knightsbridge.
"I should have known,” I said.
She offered a gracious smile, as though I’d arrived for dinner. "Yes, you should have. Did you think for one second that I would allow you the pleasure that you denied my daughter? My darling Elsa, whose beauty is quickly fading in a dirty prison cell."
“So what’s your plan?" I asked, touching the fine threads that covered me like a net. "Hold me hostage until Daniel thinks I'm not coming? So what? I’ll marry him tomorrow instead."
"I don't think so, dear." Knightsbridge was her usual calm and collected self. I wasn't foolish enough to believe she would let me go simply because I asked. But it was worth a try.
"You’re already in enough trouble," I said. "Rochester recently said that you were being considered for early release. Why jeopardize it for petty revenge?”
Knightsbridge glanced at someone out of view. "This is about far more than my petty revenge, as you so elegantly put it. There are others who wish to remove you from Spellbound’s register. As our interests aligned, this seemed to be the perfect time to implement our plan."
"You're getting too close to breaking the curse," a gruff voice said. The familiar centaur emerged from a darkened room. "The town cannot afford to have you succeed."
Ah, one of Lady Weatherby’s accomplices. I didn't feel anger very often, but I felt it now.
"I'm not the only one working to break the curse, Hugo,” I said. I injected as much bitterness into his name as I could.
"No, but you’re the key," Hugo said. “Everybody says so.”
"It's about time you listened to others,” I said. "Maybe if you had done that during criminal investigations, you'd still be the sheriff."
Hugo's nostrils flared. The centaur never liked me. Well, the feeling was mutual.
"It isn't just me involved in this," Hugo said. “Other paranormals feel the same. No new blood in town. We’ve even formed a group. Concerned Residents Against Paranormal Immigration.”
I snorted. “Your group is CRAPI?”
He folded his arms and huffed. “Our group is not crappy.”
“I beg to differ.” The news didn’t surprise me. There were sure to be those who feared change. Those who feared a new wave of paranormals coming to town. The unknown was a scary prospect for many.
“I told you the acronym didn’t work, Hugo,” the fairy snapped. “You never listen.”
I plucked a thread. "The curse will be broken no matter what you do. The pieces of the puzzle are nearly in place." I didn't want to say too much in case he didn't know how close we were. "And the only way you'll keep me from getting married or helping with the curse is to kill me." I looked from Hugo to Knightsbridge. "If you do that, I promise you right now that you will be caught. And Daniel will reap vengeance like you've never seen. He wouldn't care about getting his halo back. The only thing he would care about is destroying you."
A goblin hustled into the room. “Here’s her wand. It was on the front lawn. Must’ve dropped it on the descent.”
“Tiffany!” I said. The Tiffany blue wand glimmered in his hand.
Knightsbridge cocked an eyebrow. “Bring it to me.”
The goblin handed over the wand and Knightsbridge set it on the edge of the desk.
“You’re dismissed,” she told the goblin.
“What are you going to do?” I asked. “You can’t use that wand. You’re a fairy. Your magic is different.”
“I don’t plan to use the wand, darling,” she said. She crooked a finger at Hugo. “You do the honors, old friend.”
Hugo bared his teeth before galloping over to the desk. With one smooth karate chop, he split Tiffany into two pieces. I gasped in horror as they fell to the floor. My first and only wand. Broken.
I choked back tears.
“You should really strive to take better care of your belongings,” Knightsbridge said. “We teach our young paranormals that lesson at a very early age. Perhaps the human world should follow suit.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to offer advice on personal growth,” I said.
“To think I gave you a key to the town,” Knightsbridge said and clucked her tongue. “More’s the pity.”
“I pity you,” I shot back. “You had a chance for redemption, but you blew it with this nonsense.” I tried to wave my arms but no dice. “I’ve been working to soften the sentencing guidelines because I believe the penalties here have been too harsh, but you will not be benefitting from those changes.” I had the sudden urge to stomp my foot and was frustrated that I couldn’t.
“Sa
ys you,” Knightsbridge said airily. “I feel confident I’ll avoid any serious charges. The dead don’t speak, after all.”
“Um, have you forgotten about Gareth?” I queried. “Or Raisa? The dead in Spellbound have a way of making themselves heard.”
“Not without you,” the fairy replied. “As always, remove Emma Hart and remove the problem.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t love her choice of words.
Somewhere in the distance, a horn blasted, making me jump.
“Who’s here?” Hugo appeared concerned.
“I have no idea,” Knightsbridge said. “It’s not as though I can entertain guests.”
A minute later, two goblins appeared in the doorway. At first they tried to squeeze together, but quickly realized they couldn’t both fit, which only resulted in them elbowing each other.
“Enough, you two!” Knightsbridge commanded. “Who’s here?”
“A wizard to see you, Madam Mayor,” the goblin on the left said.
“She’s not the mayor anymore,” I said. A minor detail in the scheme of things, but still.
“Which wizard?” Knightsbridge queried. “Not Professor Holmes, I hope. His breath smells like honeysuckle.”
Honeysuckle? I thought she would say garlic or broccoli. Only a demented fairy with a vendetta would object to sweet honeysuckle breath.
“Rochester, ma’am,” the goblin on the right said. “The prosecutor.”
Rochester! My spirits soared. He’d get me out of here.
Hugo snarled. “Did he say what he wants?”
“No, sir,” the goblin replied.
“He’s here to discuss her early release,” I said. I knew because Rochester had mentioned it to me.
Knightsbridge looked torn. I knew exactly what she was thinking—she wanted early release, but she wanted revenge on me, too.
“You can’t have both,” I said.
Her head jerked toward me and her lips curled in a cruel smile. “Can’t I? Let’s find out, shall we?” She addressed the goblins. “Send him in.”
“What about me?” Hugo asked.
As soon as the goblins turned their backs, she fluttered around the room in a tizzy. “Hide in the closet.”
Hugo glanced at the painfully small closet. “I’m a centaur. How am I supposed to fit in there?”
“You can’t be seen here or we’ll both be in trouble,” she griped.
I folded my arms and watched the drama unfold. “You’d better hurry. If Rochester sees either one of us here, your dreams of an early release are over.”
“You’re the sorceress. Do something!” Knightsbridge demanded.
I laughed. “I can’t. You’ve got this magical net on me that keeps me from using my powers. Not to mention, you’ve kidnapped me on my wedding day. Even if I could, why would I do anything to help you?”
“We’re out of time,” Hugo said, trying desperately to stuff his elongated body into the closet. The image was so comical, I couldn’t stop laughing.
“What in Mother Nature’s name…?” Rochester stood framed in the doorway, wearing his official dark blue cloak. “Emma?” His gaze shifted to the half-hidden centaur. “Hugo? What’s the meaning of this?” He seemed to notice my sparkles for the first time. “Why are you covered in glitter on your wedding day? Is that a human world custom?”
“I’ve been kidnapped,” I said. “I can’t use magic unless you get this net off me.”
Rochester blinked, apparently stunned by the scene unfolding in front of him. “Come out of the closet, Hugo.” He brandished his wand. “Rotten apples, sour milk/return her magic, remove her silk.”
The net dissolved and I stretched my arms. “Thanks, Rochester.”
“Why have they kidnapped you?” he asked, keeping one eye trained on the culprits.
“She wants to ruin my wedding day as revenge because she’s the worst helicopter mother in the history of helicopter mothers, and he wants to prevent me from breaking the curse because he’s a racist fearmonger.”
Rochester rubbed his forehead. “What’s a helicopter mother?”
“You know, she hovers too close to her daughter, tries to fix everything Elsa does wrong. Elsa never learns from her mistakes, which is why she’s now serving time.”
“We call that a broomstick mother,” Hugo chimed in.
With her bright pink cheeks, Knightsbridge looked ready to blow a fuse. “I am not a broomstick mother just because I care about my daughter’s well-being.”
“You’ve exceeded care and gone straight to nutcase,” Rochester said.
“I suppose early release is out of the question,” the fairy said in a huff.
“Most definitely,” Rochester replied. “And I’ll summon Sheriff Astrid here to take care of you, Hugo.” He whistled sharply and the goblins returned to the room. “Send an owl for the sheriff.”
The goblins exchanged looks. “We don’t have any owls here,” the one on the right said.
“What do you use, Elf Express?” Rochester asked the fairy.
“I’m under house arrest,” Knightsbridge replied. “I don’t use anything.”
“You use something,” I said. “That’s how you’ve been secretly communicating with Hugo.”
Knightsbridge narrowed her eyes at me. “I really wish you were less clever.”
I bet.
“Tell us how she communicates with you, Hugo, and I’ll bear that in mind during your trial,” Rochester said.
Hugo hesitated only a moment before answering. “She uses a white dove. It’s in a cage behind her desk.”
“Traitor!” Knightsbridge fumed.
Rochester strode across the room and peered behind her desk. “Training or magic?”
“Magic, of course,” Knightsbridge replied.
Rochester lifted the cage from the floor and set it on the desk. “And how did you use manage to use magic?”
“It wasn’t my magic,” Knightsbridge said.
“But Hugo doesn’t have any magic,” I said.
“Not Hugo,” another voice said.
I whirled around to see Jasper Jansen with his fairy wand extended.
“Put down the wand, Jasper,” Rochester warned.
“Jasper, what are you doing?” I asked. “Elsa dumped you. You don’t owe this family anything.”
“I still love Elsa,” Jasper said. “Maybe if she hears about the sacrifices I’ve made for her, she’ll come back to me after she finishes her prison sentence.”
“She might,” I said, “but do you really want that? She lied to you, Jasper. Betrayed you. She never loved you.”
“Fairies stick together,” Jasper said, and tossed Knightsbridge his wand.
“No!” Rochester and I cried in unison.
Knightsbridge caught the wand and fluttered a safe distance from Rochester. “You’ve lost the upper hand, wizard.”
Rochester aimed his wand. “I perform magic with the greatest of ease/make this malevolent fairy freeze.”
He didn’t have time to get the words out before Knightsbridge counteracted the spell with one of her own. Blue light streamed from his wand, battling the red light from hers. A familiar song blared in my head—the Imperial March. It was like watching Darth Vader duke it out with Obi-Wan Kenobi on Mustafar. Instead of lightsabers, they locked wands.
As I closed my eyes to summon my magic, strong arms grabbed me from behind.
“Not so fast, sorceress.” Hugo’s breath was hot on my shoulder.
“Let me go,” I said, squirming.
“Jasper, help me,” Hugo insisted. “If she dies, the curse can’t be broken.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “The curse will be broken, whether I’m there to help or not. The freedom ship has sailed, Hugo. You can’t stop it now.”
Jasper appeared out of his depth. His gaze flicked from us to Knightsbridge and Rochester, locked in a battle of the spells. Knightsbridge was hovering in the air above his head, dodging the magic from his wand.
I sensed him weakening. “Jasper, fly to the sheriff’s office and get Astrid. Hurry!”
“Don’t listen to her,” Hugo said, the crook of his elbow digging into my neck. “She wants to destroy this whole town. That’s been her plan since the moment she arrived.”
I couldn’t speak with Hugo’s arm pressing down on my windpipe. I focused inward and felt the energy flow through me. I was getting more comfortable with my powers every day. As a sorceress, I didn’t need a wand like the others.
“Blowback!” I yelled, and the centaur shot backward across the room like a cannonball, slamming into the wall. Pieces of plaster broke around him, dusting the floor.
Jasper gaped at me, wide-eyed and uncertain.
“Jasper, please,” I said. “You’re better than them. I know you are.” The fact that he still loved Elsa showed me that his heart was bigger than his brain. “Get Astrid.”
The handsome fairy seemed to snap back to reality. “Yes, the sheriff,” he said, more to himself. He whizzed out of the room, leaving a cloud of fairy dust behind him.
Although Hugo’s back legs were still grounded, he started to regain his focus. I didn’t give him a chance to regroup. I focused my will and gathered my energy, feeling the magic in my hands.
I stretched my arms toward him and said, “Skies are blue, oceans deep/let this stubborn centaur sleep.”
Hugo’s eyes closed and he fell to the floor with a loud thud. I immediately turned back to help Rochester. The wizard was on his knees and I spotted his wand on the floor halfway across the room. Knightsbridge had him right where she wanted him. Her wand glowed with a ruby red light. She raised it above his head, ready to strike.
“No!” I pushed my hands forward. Golden light streaked from my fingertips and zapped the fairy like I’d chucked a spear of lightning at her. Her body jerked and shuddered and she dropped to the floor, unconscious.
Rochester offered me a weak smile. “Thank you, Emma. That was rather too close for comfort.”
“What’s going on and, more importantly why are you covered in glitter, Emma?” Astrid entered the room, followed by Britta and Jasper.
“Forget the glitter,” Britta said. “What’s that weirdness on her feet?”
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