by Lily Webb
“To be clear, I’m not recommending Zoe receive no punishment. My only request is that any discipline is measured and matched to what we know for a fact she’s done wrong,” Raina said.
It stung to hear, but she was right to say it.
“Then what do you recommend?” Heath asked.
Finally, Raina turned to look at me. Though she tried to maintain her stern, disapproving look, I saw under the surface how much it hurt.
As awful as Grandma’s disappointment felt, disappointing Raina was infinitely worse. Had it not been for her, I never would’ve learned anything about magic or my family’s links to magical history, or been invited to Veilside — and now her sister was dead.
Raina mouthed “I’m sorry” to me and turned back to the Council.
“Confiscate her wand. Until she can prove she’s trustworthy again, she won’t need it. Additionally, her studies at Veilside will be suspended until further notice,” Raina said and I thought I might pass out.
Lorelei smirked down at me. I hadn’t had my wand long at all, but now that it was being taken away from me, I felt like I’d taken eight steps backward in terms of my magical advancement. It was devastating.
Lesson learned.
“And what about her grandmother?” Heath asked.
“She can stay with me,” Raina said. “That way I can keep an eye on things.”
I didn’t like that idea, but it served two purposes because we didn’t have room for Grandma at Flora’s house — and it wasn’t like I could argue in my position.
“That sounds reasonable. I think we should put it to a vote, however, for the sake of the official record. All those in favor of Headmistress Woods’ proposals, raise your wands and say ‘aye,’” Heath said.
Every single witch and warlock on the Council — including Grace Magnus — raised their wands. The decision was unanimous. It wasn’t surprising, but it still hurt.
“So it shall be done,” Heath said and waved his wand at me. Mine wiggled out of its place in my robes and soared into his free hand. I felt defenseless without it, even though I didn’t really know how to use any real magic yet.
And now I might never get the chance to learn. The only way I could prove myself to the Council and the rest of Moon Grove was to figure out who really killed Circe and why.
I reached into my robes to palm the golden vial stopper I’d found at the scene of the crime. I had no idea what it really was or how it had ended up at Circe’s house, and I had no proof, but I couldn’t shake the feeling it was central to everything.
Whatever it took, I would find out for Grandma’s sake and my own.
“Let this be a lesson, Ms. Clarke, that no one is above the Council — not even you,” Heath said. “Do you have anything you’d like to say?”
I pushed back from the table and stood, my entire body trembling.
“I’ll make this right. I promise I will,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Thank you, Zoe,” Heath said. “You may go.”
I left with Grandma and Raina at my heels. Beau threw his arms around me when we stepped outside, which I was grateful for because I refused to let Lorelei or anyone else on the Council see me cry.
Chapter Six
I strode into the Messenger’s offices the next morning on a mission, ignoring all the stares from my colleagues — most of whom I still hadn’t formally met.
There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that they all had opinions about me and my actions but I didn’t have the time or space in my brain to care. The only thing that mattered was figuring out who killed Circe, how they did it, and why.
“Zoe,” Mitch barked from the other side of the office where he stood waiting with his arms across his chest, scowling.
Evidently, he had other plans.
Sighing, I tossed my bag down on my desk and made my way over to Mitch. I couldn’t avoid him all day, so better to get whatever he wanted to say to me out of the way now.
He ushered me into his office and closed the door softly behind us. Maybe he wasn’t angry after all.
“I’m sure you know why I called you in here,” Mitch said. He sank down into his chair, which groaned and protested under his weight.
The armrests, which were already shredded to ribbons the first time I saw them, looked like they’d only gotten worse in the last few days — no doubt thanks to the Blood Moon’s effects on Mitch as a werewolf.
“Yeah, I can guess,” I said.
“Look, I’m not here to beat up on you. I’m sure you’ve already gotten plenty of that from everyone else,” Mitch said. “The only thing I’m concerned about is how this is going to reflect on the Messenger and our work, specifically yours.”
“I can’t possibly answer that,” I said.
“No, I didn’t think you could. But I think we need to come up with some sort of plan because something tells me that this isn’t going to be the last we hear of this,” Mitch said.
“I think the best thing we can do is to keep doing what we’ve always done: get to the truth. That’s exactly what I intend to do, anyway,” I said.
A wide smile split Mitch’s face, a rarity for him. He stroked his beard and nodded.
“Good, I like your attitude. I take it that means you’re going to try to figure out who’s responsible for all this?” Mitch asked.
“Sure am,” I said.
“Any ideas? Any leads?” Mitch asked.
I hemmed and hawed for a second, debating whether or not I wanted to tell him about the vial stopper I’d found. To most people, it was a tiny detail that didn’t mean anything, but I couldn’t let it go.
“Promise not to laugh if I tell you?” I asked.
“Well, I won’t promise, but I’ll try not to,” Mitch said, smirking. Any other time his sarcasm would’ve gotten on my nerves, but after everything I’d been through lately, I appreciated the lighthearted approach.
“Fine, here goes,” I said and reached into my robes to pull out the stopper.
It was small, not quite big enough to fill my palm as I held it out in front of him. Mitch squinted to get a better look at it and looked back up at me with his eyebrows furrowed.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“A Golden Snitch, duh,” I said and Mitch only looked more confused. I’d forgotten no one here was going to get my clichéd Harry Potter references.
“I’m not sure what it is honestly. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s some sort of stopper for a vial or a chemical beaker or something,” I said.
“Where did you find it?”
“Well, it found me actually. I tripped on this thing trying to get to my grandma during the house fire,” I said as I rolled the stopper around in my palm. The light caught it a certain way and for the first time, I noticed there was something engraved in its surface.
“Wait a second, there’s some sort of symbol on here,” I said, holding it closer to my face to get a better look. A faintly-etched diamond with an open eye inside stared back at me.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, I don’t recognize it,” I said and pinched it between two fingers to allow Mitch to see.
“I don’t recognize it either but it looks like it’s some sort of philosophical thing,” Mitch said.
“This has to be connected somehow.”
“Okay, maybe it is, but how?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Why was it outside Circe’s front door? I’m telling you, Mitch, that fire wasn’t normal. The flames were bright green and no matter what the firefighters did, the flames wouldn’t extinguish, they just spread,” I said.
The firefighters eventually had to give up and let the flames die out themselves when they got down to the dirt and had nothing left to use as fuel.
“Okay, so you think they were magical or something?”
“They must’ve been. I don’t know if it was fire cast by a spell or if it was some sort of potion, but given that I found this stopper nearby, I’m willing to bet
it had something to do with alchemy,” I said.
“Interesting. You’re right, it’s not much, but I guess it’s as good a place to start as any,” he said.
“It’s all I’ve got, so it’ll have to be,” I said.
“Wait a second, what about that new tonic shop that just opened up? What’s it called again?” Mitch asked and immediately the crazed and dazed face of Hilda Blackwood appeared in my mind. My heart jumped up into my throat.
“Hypnotic Tonics, of course, why didn’t I think of that?!” I shouted. The answer, obviously, was that I had a lot of other things on my mind so spotting clues wasn’t as easy as it usually was for me.
“Yeah, that’s the one. The owner of the place was at the announcement of the curfew. She was the one who made the prediction about death, wasn’t she? I don’t know about you, but that seems a little too coincidental to me,” Mitch said.
“I doubt someone who was planning to murder would announce it to the entire town like that, but who knows, stranger things have happened here,” I said with a shrug.
“Maybe you should go talk to her to see what she tells you — and what she doesn’t. She might have some sort of tonic to block you from reading her thoughts, but the only way to find out is to try,” Mitch said.
“That’s a great idea,” I said. “The only problem is I’m going to need some sort of alibi. Everyone in town knows I’m tied to what happened to Circe, so I doubt they’ll be willing to talk to me if I don’t give them a believable reason.”
“True. Well, Hypnotic Tonics is a new shop in town. Maybe you could use the excuse that you’re writing a story about the shop itself or a boom in small business for Moon Grove?” Mitch suggested.
“Oh, I love that. The owner’s probably desperate for positive coverage after her little premonition came true,” I said. “But wait, are we really going to run a story like that?”
“I guess it depends on what you get out of her,” Mitch said, smiling.
“Challenge accepted,” I said and pocketed the stopper. “Do you know where her shop is?”
“Yeah, it’s at the corner of Crescent and Cartier just a couple of blocks from here,” Mitch said. “It’s a little, well, eccentric, to say the least. Trust me, you can’t miss it.”
“Good. Something tells me Ms. Blackwood and I have a lot to talk about,” I said and turned to open the door.
“Hey Zoe,” Mitch called, freezing me in my tracks. “Don’t let this Circe situation or anything else take that spark away from you. It’s what makes you who you are and what made me hire you in the first place.”
It almost made me cry. Mitch was right — now of all times, I couldn’t afford to doubt myself. I might’ve made a major mistake and paid a grave cost for it, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that it all could’ve just as easily been a coincidence.
It occurred to me as well that this might have been a setup. But who would want to frame me and my family for something like this? There was a long list of people I’d made enemies out of in my time in Moon Grove, but would any of them really want to hurt me like this?
I had to find out, one way or another.
“Thank you, Mitch,” I said. “I know we don’t always see eye to eye on things, but I’m really glad to have you as my boss.”
“You’ve probably shaved off at least ten years of my life since you started working here, but I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mitch said, beaming. “Now enough with the sappy stuff, get out there and get the truth.”
With a nod, I stepped out of Mitch’s office and went back to my desk. If anyone could help me figure out what the symbol on the stopper was, it would be Mallory Crane, my one and only friend from Veilside — and the best researcher in Moon Grove.
I snatched my phone out of my bag. Thankfully, it’d come back to life after I re-entered town with Grandma. I held the stopper out in front of me and snapped a picture of the engraving before I sent it to Mallory with a short message:
>> Me: Hey, sorry for the radio silence. Had a lot going on. Anyway, does this image ring any bells for you? Asking for a friend.
Unsurprisingly, Mallory answered instantaneously.
>> Mallory: That’s okay, I knew from all the news reports you were alive, though I’m sure you wish you weren’t right about now. I think I’ve seen that symbol somewhere before but I can’t remember where. I’ll see what I can find.
>> Me: Thanks. Let’s get lunch or something soon to catch up, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.
>> Mallory: Yeah, that’s what happens when you get suspended from school, you sling blade renegade.
>> Me: Very funny. I gotta go, talk to you soon.
>> Mallory: Okay, try not to break any more rules between now and then.
Rolling my eyes, I threw my phone back in my bag and headed outside. At least the weather was nice. The sun was already high in the sky, shining merrily like it was smiling, and it was difficult for me not to smile back at it. As awful as things had gotten, I was back on track doing what I did best: asking questions.
It took less than three minutes for me to walk the distance from the Messenger to Hypnotic Tonics and only about three seconds to realize how right Mitch was about the place.
The building was tiny, roughly the size of a studio apartment. Neon, mismatched garden decorations in the shape of various flora — most of them mushrooms — lined the walkway leading to the front door, which itself was painted tie-dye.
A humming case that appeared to be a vending machine sat to the right of the door, displaying rows of brightly-colored potions in bulbous glass vials for any passersby to purchase. None of the concoctions were labeled, but suddenly it was no wonder Hilda seemed to be on something during the Council meeting — based on what I’d seen of her shop, she probably was.
I walked up the pathway, pushed the front door open, and bells and chimes greeted me as I stepped inside. Hilda sat on a plush violet cushion in the center of the room, her eyes closed, seemingly deep in meditation. Not even the sound of me entering had disturbed her.
Unsure of what else to do, I waited for Hilda to notice me, but nothing happened. I cleared my throat to try to get her attention, but all it did was scare a snore out of her. Things were already off to a great start.
“Hilda?” I asked carefully. I didn’t want to scare her out of her skin, but I couldn’t just stand there waiting forever. She grunted and her wild eyes fluttered open behind her Coke-bottle glasses; her world swam into focus and Hilda jolted when she realized I was standing there.
“Yes, good afternoon, dear,” she said, jumping up off the cushion like someone half her age. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, I was deep in contemplation.”
Contemplation? Is that what the kids were calling it these days?
“That’s okay, I’m not in any hurry,” I said. As long as she told me what I needed to know, I would wait all day.
“Wait a moment, I recognize you,” Hilda said, looking me up and down. She squinted her eyes to get a better look at me.
“You’re Zoe Clarke,” she said.
“Yup, that’s me,” I said. At some point, the novelty of me being me would have to wear off for everybody, but evidently, that wasn’t today.
“Welcome, dear, though I must say it’s a surprise. Have you come for a specific tonic? Perhaps something to ease anxiety?” Hilda asked, and I wasn’t sure if she was being helpful or catty.
For half a second, I considered taking her up on the offer — but I had to keep my head clear, which didn’t seem to be the focus of any of her tonics.
“No, actually, I came to talk to you about your shop. I’m writing an article for the Messenger about it and small business generally in Moon Grove. Do you have a few minutes to talk?” I asked.
Hilda eyed me like she didn’t believe a word I’d said.
“You’re not going to print anything salacious, are you?” she asked as she pushed her glasses up her nose.
“No, of course not,” I lied
. That depended on what she had to say. “I just figured you could use a bit of positive press after that unsettling Council meeting. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Because the Council’s got it out for us,” a voice said from behind me and I turned on my heel to find a young, sandy-haired witch standing behind a glass display case with her hands in the pockets of her tie-dyed robes. She looked just as unusual as Hilda, if not more.
“Don’t say that, Sage,” Hilda hissed. “Zoe, this is my apprentice, Sage Snow. Please don’t write anything she says in your article. Though she’s as smart as an elf, she enjoys exaggeration.”
“Uh, okay, but why would she say it if it wasn’t true?”
“Because it is true,” Sage said, stepping around the display toward me. Her face was freckled and a thick gold ring hanging from her septum swayed back and forth with her movement.
“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would the Council have it out for you?” I asked her.
“Some of them really don’t like what we do here,” Sage said. “They think our tonics are dangerous.”
“Are they?” I asked as memories of the roaring green flames that consumed Circe’s house came to mind.
“No, of course, they aren’t!” Hilda said, her voice shrill. “We’ve passed all the safety checks and meet or exceed all Moon Grove regulations for consumable goods.”
“Consumable goods?”
“Yes, dear, what did you think you were supposed to do with a tonic? Sniff it?” Hilda asked and Sage chuckled.
“So I take it these tonics induce some sort of magical effects on whoever drinks them?”
“You catch on quick,” Sage said under her breath, but I let it go. I was trying to lead Hilda down a particular path and though my questions had obvious answers, I needed her to confirm what I already suspected.
“Precisely,” Hilda said, ignoring Sage too.
“Do you have a best seller? Anything in particular that people come looking for?” I asked as I stepped around Sage to eye the rainbow of different potions inside the cases that lined each of the shop’s walls — and froze when I realized a diamond with an open eye stared back at me from the golden stopper of each vial.
