Spandex, Spells and Shadows

by Melinda Chase

  “Follow me.” The words were a low whisper, barely more than a breath, but their message was clear: this was not a topic that was kosher to discuss.

  We weaved through the shelves of the first floor, passing a family of fauns in the children’s book section, and a tall, statuesque woman with tiny pink scales glittering across her chest. Coupled with the fact that there was a seemingly spontaneous pile of water at her feet, I had a feeling she must have been a mermaid.

  “Up this way,” Lemon Drop called when I got distracted watching a couple of witches who were gathered in a circle near the herbology section.

  She led me up the stairs, past the second and third floors, all the way to a place where the staircase seemed to end, pointing out into absolute nothingness, high above the center of the library. Dropping off the edge of it would be absolutely deadly, and that was exactly where Lemon Drop seemed to be heading.

  Irrational fear took over my being. Had I somehow broken some weird magical rule that meant I was now going to be dropping off the edge of this hanging staircase, splatting to my death on the very tiled floor that I had proclaimed my worst enemy?

  “Uh, Shannon, are you alright?”

  I turned back to see that Lemon Drop had stepped off of the staircase and right to the air in front of it, like there was an invisible floor.

  “Holy crap, there’s an invisible floor,” I hissed to myself.

  “Yeah, what did you think, I was going to just drop you off the end of a staircase?” The witch giggled.

  “Of course not.” I was not a convincing liar for once in my life.

  Trusting that she wasn’t trying to murder me, I took the steps two at a time up the staircase and stepped off. I could feel the floor underneath my feet, hard and strong, holding me up, but I couldn’t see it. I felt like I had stepped onto one of those glass balconies they have at the Grand Canyon, where the river rushes hundreds of feet below and you’re at once reminded of the majesty of the world and the fleetingness of life.

  “Through here.”

  Lemon Drop took two more steps forward and then, quite literally, disappeared. This time, I didn’t panic, and instead followed in her footsteps. Soft fabric hit my face, and I stepped through a curtain and into a wide open space with dim lighting.

  Unlike the floors below, this one wasn’t covered with stacks of shelves and scores of books. Instead, there was just one massive shelf in the very center of the dark space, and it held only a select few books.

  “What is this?” I asked, looking around at the dark, empty walls lit up by a few purple sconces dotted here and there.

  “The fourth floor,” Lemon Drop replied, skipping toward the bookshelf. “Or, as some like to call it, the murder house.”

  “WHAT?”

  “I’m just messing with you!” Lemon Drop guffawed, bending over her knees as she cracked herself up.

  “That wasn’t funny,” I replied, narrowing my eyes at her.

  “Depends on your sense of humor,” she shrugged. “But, to answer your question, this is what we call the restricted part of the library. You have to be accompanied by a librarian to get past that curtain. It’s enchanted.”

  “I think this is the book you want.” Lemon Drop picked out a massive, heavy tome that looked like it had seen more years than the earth itself. “The original grimoire.”

  “It still exists?” I breathed. From what I knew, witches dated back thousands and thousands of years. I was sure if I studied, I’d discover they had popped up right around the same time the first humans had.

  “It’s protected,” she replied. “It’s been spelled so it doesn’t deteriorate over time. Shall we have a look?”

  She handed me the massive book, and I had to take a moment to just appreciate what I held in my hands. The crinkly yellow paper, the cracked leather, the weight of it. I was literally holding history in my hands.

  For the first time ever, I understood why people were so floored when they touched something like the Constitution or one of Shakespeare’s original works. It was absolutely entrancing.

  “Shannon?” Lemon Drop prompted.

  “Sorry.” I shook myself out of it and sank to the ground so I could spread out the book in front of me.

  “I know, it’s a lot,” she murmured, stroking a finger down the open yellow page. “When I first started working here, I used to come up to this floor all the time, just so I could touch these books. It’s almost like you can feel history, you know?”

  “I know exactly what you’re talking about,” I murmured.

  “So, what are we looking for?”

  I glanced back up at her wide golden eyes and debated how much I should tell her. But, I figured the witch had been nice enough to bring me up to the restricted sections, no questions asked, when she barely knew me. She deserved a little bit of an answer, at least.

  “I have a friend who was contracted by the Council,” I explained. “He realized he’s not exactly the killer he needed to be. So he asked if I could help him out.”

  Okay, it wasn’t exactly the entire truth. I was still completely averse to telling anyone the entire story. Lemon Drop had been more than helpful thus far, but she thought I was only a witch. There was no telling how she’d react if she found out I was a halfling, and after Charles’ informative little speech, I didn’t really want to chance it.

  “Wow,” she breathed. “You’re a really good friend.”

  “I try to be,” I shrugged.

  Being a friend had nothing to do with it. At the end of the day, I wasn’t loathed to admit that I had mostly selfish reasons.

  The first of which being my desperate need to kiss Hunter without being blown back by some sort of cloaking spell.

  Lemon Drop and I spent the next three hours searching through the original grimoire and making light conversation. At first, it was just an attempt on my part to keep her from asking any more questions that would force me to lie right to her face.

  But then, I realized I liked talking to her. Lemon Drop was sweet and bubbly in a way I probably would have found annoying on other days. Today, though, it was a welcome distraction from my own mind seeing as it was still reeling with thoughts of Hunter and Tanya and the halflings.

  Finally, Lemon Drop let out an excited gasp, springing to her feet and pointing at the open page before us.

  “I found it!” She screeched, jumping up and down like a child about to get ice cream.

  I almost wanted to copy her and jump for joy, but I forced myself to keep my cool for the moment.

  “Where?” I asked her.

  Lemon Drop calmed down momentarily and knelt back next to the book once more to show me precisely what she was talking about.

  The words were hard to read, and I could already tell they were written in another language.

  “I don’t know what that says,” I grimaced, looking back at her apologetically.

  “Here.” She yanked a notebook and pen from the pocket of her jeans and started to copy out what it said on the page. By the time she was finished, my stomach was flipping over and over, folding in upon itself nervously.

  “We need all of these ingredients?” I asked hesitantly. There were at least twenty of them, and I’d only head of about six on the entire list. Hopefully, Mom and Grams would have some more insight on this.

  “Yep,” Lemon Drop nodded. “But, uh, look.”

  She tapped her pen on the bottom of the page, where I could see she’d written “Side Effects.”

  My eyes scanned down the list quickly.

  “Sore throat, general feverishness, tiredness, burning sensations on the skin or groin… DEATH?”

  I could tell from Lemon Drop’s expression that she’d already seen that part.

  “You sure your friend needs it that badly?” She asked.

  My first instinct was to say no, of course not. Hunter didn’t need to risk death just to make sure he didn’t kill me.

  But then, I realized two things. One, he was a grown man
who was perfectly capable of making his own decisions. And, two, Hunter was going to die if he kept up his bond with the Council. They’d discover that he’d been hiding out with me and refusing their orders, and they’d kill him.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I am.”

  13

  “I have to get this to him.” I was hardly even aware that Lemon Drop was there as I ripped the paper from her notepad and shoved it in my pocket. The world had become a blur, and I only had one mission: get Hunter this spell.

  “Do you want any more help?” Lemon Drop asked as she traipsed after me.

  “No, no, that’s fine.” I turned back to her and gave her a wide, grateful smile. “Thank you. If you need anything, ask. Anything from the store, or help with something, or just… a friend. Let me know, okay?”

  “I will,” she grinned. “Now, go get that man.”

  Lemon Drop laughed and pinched my side a little bit.

  “How do you know it’s a man?” I replied.

  “Just a feeling,” she shrugged. “Go!”

  Heeding her orders, I did. I fled down to the center of the first floor, right in the middle of the pentagram, and actually welcomed the vacuum this time. I hardly even paused to yell a thank you in Charles’ direction, not that it would have done much good. The lion probably would have thought I was even more insane than he already did.

  I leaped into my car and turned the ignition over so hard I smacked my knuckles into the dashboard, but I didn’t care.

  I was just about to back out of my parking space when my cell phone rang, chirping that annoyingly peppy tune. My first instinct was to ignore it. It was probably just Mom and Grams anyway, and they could wait. Hunter needed to be the first to know what I’d found. But then, the call ended, only to start up once again.

  “Fine,” I growled, snatching it from the seat next to me and glaring at the caller I.D.

  It was Tanya.

  Without another thought, I answered. I couldn’t believe she was calling, but I definitely wouldn’t waste the opportunity to hopefully make amends.

  “Tanya, I am so sorry,” I said immediately. “Everything that happened, I know I need to explain—”

  “Shannon, somebody’s after me.”

  Her voice was so low it wasn’t more than a whisper, and it shook with an immense fear that I recognized. I’d only felt it once before in my entire life, back in that cottage in the woods when I thought Hunter was actually going to murder me. Instantly, my blood went ice cold, but I forced myself to remain calm for Tanya’s sake.

  “Where are you?” I asked immediately.

  “Ummm, I’m in my apartment,” she murmured. “He was at the bar, and I had this strange feeling whenever he came near me. My shift was over, and he followed me to my car and, oh my God!”

  Tanya let out a terrified little scream, so piercing it sliced through my eardrum like a knife, but I fought the urge to pull the phone away from my ear.

  “Tanya?” I demanded, terrified that I’d just helplessly listened to her murder.

  “He’s here, Shannon, I—”

  That was it. Tanya was instantly cut off, and all I could hear on the other end was what sounded like a serious struggle, followed by a few low, muffled thumps.

  And then, silence.

  My heart raced and my palms got so sweaty they could have filled an entire lake. I acted on pure instinct, spinning my Prius out of the parking space and zipping off out of the parking lot, nearly rear ending multiple cars as I high tailed it onto the street and toward Tanya’s apartment.

  But the library was too far away. I knew it, in the back of my mind, even as I raced through the streets of Portland, heavy with late afternoon traffic. There was no way I would have gotten there in time even if the streets had been perfectly clean.

  I had to try, though.

  I had no idea what had happened to Tanya or who had gotten to her, but I knew it was somehow my fault. She’d been perfectly happy, living a life of complete ignorance, and I’d gone and dragged her with me to the bottom of a mile deep ravine, where nothing but craggy rocks and dangerous rapids existed.

  If she died, it would be on me. For all I knew, there could have been a hunter after her, someone who had discovered she was a halfling and decided to kill her for it, no questions asked.

  “Stop thinking like that, Shannon,” I instructed myself.

  I wasn’t much of a God fearing woman. Grams had taken us to church once when I was a kid, trying to impress some hot new beau and fool him into thinking she was a good Southern woman, but that had been the extent of my religious education.

  That night, though, I prayed hard. Harder than I’d ever thought I would.

  “Please, God, let her be okay,” I murmured. I wasn’t even sure if I believed in a higher power at all, but if there was someone up there, I sure as heck wanted to make sure I covered all of my bases. “Please save her.”

  It was another fifteen minutes before I pulled up to her apartment building. When I looked back on it later, I was a little shocked that I hadn’t instinctually called the cops, on the off chance that this was some random murder, brought on by a psycho at the bar. She’d told me there was a weird guy who was sort of stalking her. He could have been the culprit, for all I knew.

  But getting police involved was the absolute wrong choice. If this was a magical problem, they’d be useless.

  I climbed the stairs to the second floor before I realized I didn’t even know what apartment she lived in.

  “Come on, Shannon, focus,” I cheered myself on before I whispered the finding spell.

  224.

  I raced up the next flight of stairs to apartment 224.

  The door was open. It was just a tiny little crack, not enough to make any unsuspecting passerby nervous, but enough to turn my stomach into jello. I mentally prepped myself before I pushed open the door, not sure what I would see. Dead bodies of strangers was one thing.

  Dead bodies of friends was another.

  Carefully, I edged into Tanya’s apartment. The little hallway in front of the door was filled with smiling pictures of her next to friends. Danny littered the space, making it clear that even two years later, she still hadn’t gotten over his death.

  I really hoped she had the chance to find love again someday.

  Past that was a tidy living room, complete with a flat screen T.V., glass coffee table, and a sleek gray couch with two fluffy blankets laid across it. The whole place felt very Tanya to me.

  Before I passed the empty living room I froze, listening as hard as I could. The bedroom was to my right, and the kitchen to my left. I don’t know whether I hoped I heard something or not. For all I knew, the assailant could still be here.

  But there was only silence in each of the other two rooms. Slowly, I sidestepped toward the bedroom, calling my magic up to the surface and letting it bubble just beneath my skin, ready if I needed it to be. I might not have had the best control, but if I was met with a hunter, I’d have no problems incinerating him with one of my massive flames.

  The bedroom was dark, and my heart stuttered as I searched the blackness for a form, expecting to find Tanya’s dead body. When I saw nothing, I flipped the light on, blinking against the bright white momentarily before I took in the room.

  There’d been a struggle, I had no doubts about that. The covers of the bed were messed up, twisted in on themselves as if someone had grabbed at them, trying to keep her place while an attacker pulled her away. The chest of drawers to my left was tilted up against the wall, with two drawers hanging open at odd angles, and the carpet beneath it had been folded in on itself.

  And there, in the center of the room, was Tanya’s cell phone, right on the ground where she’d probably dropped it.

  I lurched forward on unsteady feet, halfway glad that she wasn’t dead at least.

  But not dead meant she was kidnapped, and there were only a few people on my list of suspects. A fae or a hunter.

  Neither of those were go
od options, but at least if a fae had taken her, I wasn’t terrified they’d slit her throat without a moment’s hesitation.

  Tanya’s cell phone was open to a half-formed text to me, one that had never sent. I could tell she’d been planning to type more, but the three little words on the screen were enough to warm my heart.

  I believe you.

  “I’m going to find you, Tanya,” I murmured seriously.

  I tucked her phone into my purse and stood back up, surveying the room one last time for any clues I might have missed. I desperately wished I had all the resources I used to as a D.A. I could have called in a forensics team and had multiple blocks cordoned off, not to mention ordered a search of all nearby areas on the off chance that Tanya was somewhere close.

  Those resources were gone, though. All I had to rely on was my own brain. That would have to be enough.

  My mind was numb as I turned the face the door, and before I knew it, I found myself fixing the space. I made the bed and straightened out the carpet, fixed the drawers, and refolded some of her clothes. I wanted the space to be ready for when she came home.

  Because she was coming home.

  I’d finally closed the last drawer when I was smacked upside the head by an unexpected vision. The room disappeared, replaced by dark, dank caves that smelled of mildew and fear.

  Don’t ask me how I knew what fear smelled like. My time spent in prisons was time I preferred not to have to recall.

  And there was no mistaking the fact that this was, most definitely, a prison. Cells lined the walls, carved straight into the rock and fitted with iron bars. I could see inside a few of them, and caught sight of a fairy and an elf. The elf was tall and strapping, covered in what looked like glowing tattoos, and with a lopsided, creepy smile on his face.

  Just as I appeared, he came forward, leering down the hallway past me. He’d barely put a hand on one of the iron bars when he yelped in pain and leaped back.

  “Wretched iron,” he snapped.

  Faes and iron. I’d totally forgotten about that rule.