Spooky Spindle

by Addison Creek

I froze.

  Chapter Twenty

  Never in my life had I wished more fervently that I could disappear. I closed my eyes and wished myself away; it didn’t work.

  To my great disappointment, there wasn’t an enchantment for unending embarrassment.

  At least not yet.

  I turned around slowly. “You recognize it?” I asked Grant Hastings in a small voice.

  This could be my one chance to stave off extreme humiliation. If he recognized it too, then maybe he himself had once wished to use such a thing. The prospect did seem rather far-fetched. I was grasping at straws.

  “We had to memorize all the potion lists at the academy. You’d be shocked by some of the potions. There’s one that cures smelly feet. We asked our instructor if a criminal had ever used that one. She thought we were mouthing off and we got in trouble,” he explained, his eyes positively sparkling.

  “Sounds epic,” I said, wishing there were some way the bottles would disappear from my hands.

  “You aren’t planning to use a potion on me, are you? I’ve been enchanted against such a measure. Besides, I’m not sure you’d need to bother.” With that he turned around and walked out of the closet.

  Mouth agape, I followed him.

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” I told him in a feeble voice.

  “I hear that a lot during my work as an investigator,” he said, lounging against the island in the main part of the kitchen. Curse his confidence. He knew I was embarrassed and he was rubbing it in! The nerve!

  I went back to remembering why he had annoyed me when he was nothing more to me than His Majesty of Magic.

  “I’m gathering love potion ingredients, but I don’t plan on using them myself. In fact, it’s to keep someone else from using them,” I explained.

  “You’re keeping a potential happy couple from finding true love?” He arched one dark eyebrow at me. Underneath, his blue eyes were still dancing.

  “I just can’t tell you, but I would never . . . I mean, a love potion!” It was all literally too mortifying to even contemplate.

  “I won’t pry further. I’m sure you’re trying to protect someone,” he said.

  Embarrassment burned through me. I would never forgive Lizzie for putting me into this position. Drat the girl!

  My mouth went dry when I realized that Grant must think I was talking about Lark or Pep! He thought I was doing this for someone who I thought was a decent witch in the world.

  No! No! I was doing this for my crackpot cousin Lizzie.

  My mouth stayed glued shut. I couldn’t tell him. It wouldn’t be fair, mostly because I was hoping that she wouldn’t even notice that the ingredients were missing.

  If Lizzie discovered that I’d taken them, she’d have a hissy fit.

  Given Grant’s expression, he had gone as far as he could go with this topic and wanted another. I agreed whole-heartedly.

  “What were those things tonight?” I asked

  He grimaced. “The Undead. I didn’t think so at first, but now I’m sure of it,” he said.

  “Haven’t you seen something like that before?” I asked. As His Majesty of Magic, he’d surely seen everything.

  His face darkened even further, all talk of love potions forgotten. “No, I haven’t seen them. They are extremely illegal. You have to use some deep, dark magic to raise such creatures.”

  “There’s only one group around here who would be willing to do something so drastic,” I said.

  “Do they have Evil in their name?” he said, and grimaced.

  “Yes, and in their personality.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  My conversation with Grant kept me up late that night. It wasn’t that we had talked until all hours; we had soon been interrupted. It was just that what he had said made me afraid to go to sleep when I finally had the chance.

  Whatever was in the woods was dangerous. It seemed more than likely that those creatures had killed the vampire, yet there were more vampires in the woods, and an important warlock in the estate.

  The danger wasn’t over.

  I woke up in the morning to the sound of a freight train. It was a strange sound to wake up to for someone who didn’t live near any railroad tracks.

  I told myself that since there were no trains in Shimmerfield, I must be dreaming. When I turned my face deeper into my old pillow to try to go back to sleep, I felt something fluffy and vibrating. It took me a few moments to connect the sleeping thing on my pillow with the noise in my ear.

  Rose was purring. Usually her happiness was a good thing, but at the moment I didn’t want to be distracted from my quest for more sleep.

  “When were you planning on waking up?” she asked.

  “Later. Much later,” I told her with my voice muffled into my pillow.

  “That’s strange. It kind of seems like you’re planning on waking up now,” she said.

  “Looks can be deceiving,” I told her. My eyes were still shut and I had rolled over to lie on my back. This way my face wasn’t in her fur.

  “I thought you’d want to know that your mom and your aunts were gossiping about you,” she said.

  My eyes flew open and I uttered a silent curse. I had been planning on staying asleep no matter what. Of course Rose had come up with the perfect ploy to wake me up.

  She had learned that sort of dirty tactic from Cookie. I reminded myself to keep the two of them separated whenever possible.

  “What exactly were they saying?” I asked.

  “I’ll tell you if you give me more cheese,” said Rose.

  I shook my head. “No. No more cheese. No more bribery.”

  “Then I guess you’ll never know,” she said.

  “It must have something to do with Grant,” I said. “I bet my mom doesn’t approve of Grant.”

  How she could not approve of His Majesty of Magic was beyond me. He was the most famous warlock in the world, and at the same time he was remarkably down to earth. Besides, he lived here and helped us out. Several investigations had recently taken place at the mansion, and he had run point on all of them. All of them had been solved.

  Okay, technically I was the reason they were solved, but I’ll give him secondary credit. He had helped.

  “You don’t know what it was about. Wouldn’t you like to?” the cat asked.

  “Is there anything you want other than cheese?” I asked.

  “A mouse?” she asked.

  “I can get you a picture of a mouse,” I said.

  “Only a real mouse will do,” said Rose.

  “I’m afraid I can’t help you then,” I said.

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you then,” said the cat.

  Disgruntled, I sat up. I had a lot to do anyway, especially since I had now started to think that the arrival of the spindle and the death of Timothy were connected. That the two things had happened on the same night seemed like too much of a coincidence, and I had to rethink the evidence, such as it was, in light of that theory.

  Also, I had still made no progress on finding out who Old Leslie was. Even worse, I hadn’t found out who was feeding Old Leslie information.

  I had, however, decided on a working theory about who it was. To test it, I was going to tell each member of my family a different story about something foolish that another family member had done.

  Of course, none of the stories would actually be true, except for maybe the one about Lizzie. I had too many of those to pass up.

  Then I’d see which of the stories showed up in the Spooky Times.

  After I had fed all of the stories to different family members, I’d watch the Times to see which story showed up. Then I’d know which one of them was in contact with Down Below. After that we could use the dishonest contact to our advantage.

  At least, so said Grandmother Cookie.

  Without waiting for Rose to ask for cheese again, I got out of bed. There was no way I was going to fall back to sleep now, so I put on an old, comfortable pair of jeans a
nd a green sweater and headed downstairs.

  My mother had said she wanted to see me, and it couldn’t be avoided any longer. But before I put myself through that encounter, I needed coffee. After that I’d be in much better shape for mysteries and my mother. Also on the agenda, given what had happened in the woods the night before, was to get in touch with Edmund.

  Mom showed up just as I was sitting down to relax. Taken by surprise, I buried my face in my coffee. I hadn’t had enough caffeine yet to deal with my family.

  Even worse, Mom wasn’t alone. Tottering in behind her was Lizzie, who looked as out of it as ever. Her arm was still in a sling, she was blinking wildly, and her pupils were dilated, leading me to wonder just how many pain enchantments she was on.

  “Good morning, my most darling cousin,” she said.

  I glanced over my shoulder but saw no one.

  “Good morning,” I said, giving in. “How are you feeling today?”

  “I’m feeling so good. I have really never felt better. It’s a wonder to behold,” she said, and twirled a little to prove it.

  The movement made her stagger. Her arm really wasn’t up for it, but when both my mom and I leaned for her she waved us off. “I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’m the very best.”

  “Lizzie insisted on coming down this morning. I told her we could bring her anything she needed, but she said she had to get stuff for herself,” said my mom.

  When Audrey came in from the garden just then, Lizzie’s eyes lit up. Audrey noticed and looked nervous.

  “Just the aunt I was hoping to see,” cooed Lizzie.

  “How are you feeling?” Audrey asked, moving over to the other side of the kitchen just in case.

  Smart woman.

  Lizzie frowned at her. “I don’t know why everybody keeps asking me that.”

  “It’s a real mystery,” I said. I wished Lark and Pep were around to see this play out. They would have enjoyed it.

  “Will you investigate it for me?” Lizzie asked me.

  Surprised, I only blinked at her, then lowered my head to drink more coffee. Maybe she’d make sense by the time the cup was empty.

  “What did you want to talk to me about?” Audrey asked. Despite her reluctance, my aunt was much more equipped to handle Lizzie at the moment than I was. Gratefully, I lapsed into silence.

  “I was wondering if I could look at some of your potion ingredients in the cupboard over there,” Lizzie said, indicating the little room that I had been in the night before.

  Just the reminder of how Grant had found me made me blush.

  Audrey frowned at her. “You can’t make any potions to heal yourself faster. Cookie might be an old battle-axe, but she’s the very best at that sort of thing. You should trust her.”

  “Oh, I do trust her. It’s not for that. It’s for something else that’s more important. Cookie definitely wouldn’t understand. Please? I promise I won’t take much of anything important,” she said.

  Audrey still looked skeptical, while my mother gave her a pleading look. I had a feeling Lizzie had been driving my mother crazy, and my mother had decided that if there was something harmless that would entertain her as she recuperated, she wanted Lizzie to have it at all costs.

  Audrey sighed. “Don’t use the stuff on the left. That’s the expensive stuff.”

  Lizzie smiled with delight and hurried into the closet, slamming against a wall on her way there but unfazed in her eagerness to get her hands on the ingredients she wanted.

  She hadn’t been in there for two seconds when we heard a squeal and a thud and rushed over to check on Lizzie, who was standing against the doorway, swaying.

  “Okay, this is clearly too much excitement for you. Let’s get you back to bed,” said my mother.

  Lizzie protested, but only feebly.

  “I can’t understand where they all went. Only common ingredients. They should all be here,” said Lizzie to Audrey.

  My aunt frowned at her. “What are you talking about? What ingredients?”

  I flinched. Lizzie had already revealed that some of Audrey’s stock was missing, but in the mess of bottles in the little room it would take Audrey a little while to figure out what wasn’t there. I had no doubt that she’d manage it in the end, though.

  “I’ll help you get her back to her room,” I offered, looking at my mom, who nodded her appreciation.

  “You have to find them! I need them,” Lizzie begged Audrey.

  My aunt was looking at her shelves in confusion as my mom and I helped my deranged cousin out of the room.

  Cookie came in just as we reached the kitchen door. She surveyed the scene before her and asked, “Where’s Audrey?”

  “Looking for missing potion ingredients,” said my mom.

  “Very important ones,” Lizzie said, swaying from side to side.

  “I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait. I need help in the greenhouse,” said Cookie.

  Audrey emerged from her stockroom shaking her head. “I can come. I’ll look later.”

  They went out one way, and Mom and I went the other, leading a woozy Lizzie. She was insisting that she was fit as a fiddle right before she nearly tripped over her own feet.

  We got Lizzie back to her bed without further incident. She protested all the way, then fell asleep the minute her head hit the pillow.

  My coffee cup had still had coffee in it when the whole Lizzie drama intervened, so I made my way back to the kitchen to finish it. Mom followed me, an unusual turn of events since she was usually up and working by five in the morning. She put the rest of us to shame in that department.

  When we reached the kitchen, Mom started piling dishes while I reunited with my mug.

  “By the way, I’m so glad that you and Grant are friends,” she said. “I’ve invited him to dinner tonight. I thought you’d like that since you seem to be getting along so well.”

  Luckily she was facing away from me, so she missed my gaping at her back. How she could have managed not to realize that we were dating was beyond me. I wondered what it would take. Then I shuddered at the thought.

  When I could control my voice, I asked her what she wanted from me that was so important that she had mentioned it several times. I was prepared for a fight, so what she said surprised me.

  Mom had something to show me. Here I’d been avoiding her because I thought she wanted yell at me; that was usually her way. I should have known that all of her hinting—which wasn’t usually her way—meant some other kind of thing entirely.

  Greta and Gertrude Hamm had already been by to say how unhappy they were about the way the Garbos were handling the Spooky Times. The ladies had stuck their nub into our business, and Mom and Aunt Meg weren’t happy about it, to put it mildly.

  “I cleared out an office for you. I thought that since you have so many jobs and titles now, it was only fitting that you have your own room to work in. There weren’t a lot of options, since Cookie seems to have claimed all the good ones. She said you could have space in the basement of the carriage house, but I told her that wouldn’t work. I think the best place for you is the old Telegraph Hall,” said my mom.

  I felt a thrill. A real thrill. I LOVED that room.

  Was she really saying it was mine? All mine?

  “Wasn’t that one of the ones that Cookie said no one could ever use?” I asked.

  My mom look grim. “It sure was. When I told her that I wanted it for your office, to my surprise she didn’t argue. She just said to make sure you didn’t break anything. I know you won’t.”

  I was delighted.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I spent the morning getting everything together in my new office. The room was beautiful, filled as it was with warm, worn wood. Cookie had her pick of spaces in the mansion, but she would never want this one because there was too much pleasant natural light.

  Lark and Pep heard the good news and came by to congratulate me. They even helped me arrange the furniture the way I liked it.
I put the desk by the window, which faced the carriage house off in the distance and offered a pretty view of the lawn and the woods. The ocean was nowhere in sight, but that would also mean that the wind wasn’t as biting.

  After the eventful night I’d had, there was a lot to fill my friends in on, starting with my date. They were delighted for me when they heard it had gone well.

  They also couldn’t believe that Grant had taken me to Edmund’s for dinner. Lark thought it was a sign that Grant really must know me and care about what I cared about.

  Pep was a little more skeptical. She thought it was a pretty macabre date idea, and though in a way I had to agree, I was happy regardless. I was glad to spend time with Grant no matter where we went.

  Then I told them about the part where we’d been attacked on our way out of Edmund’s. Even worse than the fact of the attack was its nature. The Undead were bad news at the best of times, but it was especially worrying to have them circling around Edmund. Just running into them randomly was unlucky, but nothing to get too excited about. But if they were after Edmund for a specific reason, it was only a matter of time before they’d strike again.

  Grant had already sent word to Edmund about the danger, urging him to keep an especially careful eye on the vampires. The safety of everyone on the property was paramount.

  “Do you believe the shift in focus away from someone at the house?” Lark asked.

  I told her I could believe it, especially since we weren’t sure the Undead would trip the enchantments the protected Edmund’s land. The truth was that they probably still would, but that meant there was more at play than we had a clue about so far.

  After that conversation we headed to lunch. I was enjoying my new office so much that I didn’t want to leave, but my stomach was grumbling too loudly to be ignored.

  In the kitchen we found Lizzie, who had just arrived there herself.

  She wanted to stay out of bed, but we immediately tried to force her back to rest, while she feebly protested her confinement. She kept saying that because of the light streaming in through the windows she couldn’t sleep. As Lark shepherded her away to take her back upstairs, Lizzie instructed Lark to ask Audrey about the joyroot. She said that Audrey would know what she meant.