Alchemy and Arson

by Lily Webb

  “Mean Green? What in Lilith’s name are you talking about?” Mallory asked.

  “Sorry, I’m several steps ahead of you here. I think I have an idea who might be our little firefly, but I don’t have any clue how I’m going to get them to talk to me,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “Sage Snow, Hilda’s apprentice at Hypnotic Tonics,” I said.

  “Oh, I know her. Funny enough, she and I are working together on an Alchemy project at Veilside. I guess you’d know that if you hadn’t gotten thrown out,” Mallory said, and I sat bolt upright, ignoring her sarcasm.

  “Wait, do you think you could arrange some sort of meeting with her for me? I mean, she seemed pretty eager to talk when I met her at Hypnotic Tonics the other day, but I don’t think she’ll be anywhere near as forthcoming with me if she’s the one in the hot seat,” I said.

  “Yeah, I’m sure I could. The project is due in the next few days and we were supposed to get together soon to finish up our formula,” Mallory said.

  “Perfect. Can you text her now?” I asked, excited.

  “Sure, give me a second,” Mallory said as she dug for her phone in her robe’s pockets, which were fit to burst. She whipped her phone out and a gaggle of other random items I didn’t want to know about tumbled down her front. I watched in awe as her thumbs sped across the screen. She was a machine.

  “Done. She’s usually pretty fast about responding, so we’ll see what she says. Hopefully, she isn’t working at the shop today,” Mallory said.

  “Yeah, it wouldn’t surprise me if they’re open on Sundays,” I said. Mallory held up a hand to silence me though as her eyes dashed across the message that’d just come across.

  “Good news, she’s free all day,” Mallory said. “When should I ask her to meet and where?”

  “As soon as possible and, uh, at Mooney’s Diner?” I suggested. Mallory looked at me sideways like it was the lamest idea she’d ever heard, but I couldn’t think of anything better. Besides, three witches having lunch on a Sunday afternoon wouldn’t look conspicuous.

  I hadn’t been to Mooney’s since my first date with Beau, and the thought produced a pang in my heart. I still hadn’t called him, despite my promise to Flora. I’d do it as soon as I could.

  “Whatever, I guess it’s fine,” Mallory said and fired off a response. I sat chewing on my lips while we waited to hear back, but we didn’t have to wait long.

  “We’re game,” Mallory said. “Sage said she could meet me in the next forty-five minutes or so.”

  “Perfect. That’ll give me time to sort through everything and catch you up so we’re on the same page when we get there,” I said.

  “Sounds good,” Mallory said as she typed to tell Sage it was a date.

  When she was finished, I told her everything I’d learned so far: about all the trouble Hilda had been through getting her shop off the ground, how both Circe and Lorelei were involved in negotiations with the werewolves, and what Lorelei told me about how unusual Sage was — and about her apparent fixation on fire.

  “This is going to be good,” Mallory said as we hopped off the couch with only ten minutes left to get ourselves over to Mooney’s.

  “Wait, Sage doesn’t know I’m coming, right?” I asked after I’d closed the door and locked it. If she did, she probably wouldn’t have agreed to meet, but I had to be sure. I also didn’t want to tip Sage off and give her time to prepare any answers.

  “She’s totally clueless,” Mallory said. “Honestly, I almost feel sorry for the poor girl unleashing you on her like this.”

  “I won’t be too much of an attack dog, I promise,” I said.

  “Please, you don’t know how to be gentle when it comes to questioning people,” Mallory said. “Don’t they teach you that stuff in journalism school, or is that not really a thing in the non-magical world?”

  “Trust me, there are more ethics classes than you would believe, but let’s go,” I said as I ushered her down the street.

  We crossed town to Mooney’s on the southside in record time, neither of us speaking much. All I could think about was the look sure to sprout on Sage’s face when Mallory and I walked in together. I hoped she wouldn’t run away screaming when she realized she’d been played.

  At the entrance to the diner, Mallory stopped me.

  “Are you sure you want to do this? I’m fine with going in there alone and scrapping the whole thing if you wanna bail,” she said.

  “No, it needs to happen. I’m curious what she’ll say, especially now that I’ve got some background info on her. You go in first and warm her up, then shoot me a text when you’re ready for me,” I said.

  “You got it,” Mallory said and walked inside without another word. I hung around on the street and paced back and forth with my phone clutched in my hand while I waited to hear something from her. Passersby looked at me like I was plotting something nefarious, but I did my best to ignore them.

  Finally, twenty minutes later, my phone vibrated. It was a simple message from Mallory that said “Ready.” With a deep breath, I headed toward the diner and stepped into the assault of its retro interior and blaring music.

  Thankfully, Mallory and Sage were seated in a booth toward the rear of the restaurant and Sage had her back turned. When Mallory caught sight of me, she spoke louder and faster like she was trying to cover up the sound of my footsteps but it only made Sage more suspicious.

  I’d just reached the table when Sage turned to see what Mallory was looking at — and all the color drained from her freckled face.

  “Oh, hi, Zoe. Funny we would run into each other here,” Sage laughed, her septum piercing bouncing. She wore basic black robes with matching lipstick and her hair was pulled up into two messy pigtails.

  “Yeah, sure is,” I said as I made my way around and sat down in the booth next to Mallory. Sage furrowed her eyebrows.

  “Are you two friends? I didn’t know this was going to be a threesome,” Sage said.

  “We are. And it’s not really a threesome so much as it’s a one-on-one,” I said, careful with my words.

  “About what? I thought Mallory and I were going to work on our Alchemy project for school,” Sage said.

  “Yeah, you still can, but I have a few questions about Councilwoman Woods I want to ask you first,” I said. Sage swallowed hard and drummed her fingers on the table, the numerous gaudy rings that adorned them click-clacking against the surface. Clearly, Circe was the last thing Sage wanted to talk about.

  “You know what, I think I’ll just catch up with you later when you’re free, Mallory,” Sage said and stood to leave.

  “Unless you want to fail this project, I suggest you sit down and answer Zoe’s questions,” Mallory said. “I don’t have any shame about intentionally screwing it up,” she continued and a smile cracked my face. Mallory never ceased to surprise me.

  “Fine,” Sage said and collapsed back into the booth in a huff. “But I don’t know why you want to talk to me about her. I barely knew her.”

  “When I talked to you and Hilda at Hypnotic Tonics a couple days ago you mentioned that Lorelei Riddle had given you a lot of trouble,” I said. Sage nodded.

  “Yeah, I wasn’t lying. You can ask anyone involved, they’ll all tell you the same thing, but I don’t know what that has to do with Circe,” Sage said.

  “I don’t need to talk to anyone else. I asked Lorelei herself and she admitted it, more or less,” I said. Sage raised her eyebrows at me.

  “You did? Wow, I knew I liked you for a reason,” Sage said, smiling.

  “But that wasn’t the only thing she told me about you,” I said and her smile vanished. “I have reason to believe the fire that killed Councilwoman Woods was magical and I strongly suspect it was an alchemical formula that started it.”

  “Now you sound like Lorelei. Hilda told you our tonics are safe, and they are. But it’s also true that a skilled witch or warlock could’ve easily pulled our creation apart for their own purp
oses,” Sage said.

  “True, but a shop assistant with access to all the materials and formulas that Hypnotic Tonics has in stock could’ve just as easily gone off and made something of their own,” I said. Sage’s face steeled.

  “What? Are you seriously trying to say I’d put my career and my mentor’s reputation on the line because I was upset about the way the Council treated us?” Sage asked. As a matter of fact, I wasn’t going that direction at all just yet, but it was interesting to hear Sage come to that conclusion anyway.

  “If the pointed hat fits,” I said, shrugging. “Wild Fyre didn’t just appear out of thin air to ignite Circe’s house on its own, and you have access to more alchemical ingredients than anyone else besides Hilda in this town.”

  Sage squirmed in her seat, her face contorting as she worked through her anger.

  “Wild Fyre?” she laughed. “Maybe you haven’t put this together yet, super sleuth, but I’m still an apprentice, not some rogue mad scientist. Mallory knows how much I’m struggling in Alchemy at school anyway, so do you really think I could figure out how to make some sort of concoction like that?” Sage asked.

  “She’s not lying, she’s absolutely abysmal at Alchemy. It’s amazing to me that Hilda agreed to take her on as an apprentice,” Mallory said and I had to bite back my laughter. Blunt should’ve been her middle name.

  “Wow, thanks,” Sage said, crossing her arms over her chest and staring out the frosted-glass window beside us.

  “Hey, don’t ask if you don’t want to know,” Mallory said.

  “Even if you were the worst alchemist in the world, anyone can follow a formula that’s already laid out for them. It’s no different than following a recipe for baking,” I said, watching Sage’s face.

  I didn’t know whether or not Hilda actually had a formula for Wild Fyre, but if she did and Sage used it, I’d know from the look on her face — or find it in her thoughts if it came to that.

  “Wild Fyre’s illegal,” Sage said.

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Mallory muttered. “The stuff is so dangerous that it was banned hundreds of years ago, and yet, somebody clearly knows how to make it in this town,” Mallory said.

  It was a stretch to think someone who was allegedly awful at Alchemy could successfully make Wild Fyre, but Sage’s ignorance could’ve been an act too. It wouldn’t have been the first time I’d been led astray by a convincing actress.

  “Look, even if I knew how to make Wild Fyre — and I don’t — I was staying the night with Hilda at the shop when the fire broke out. Not even witches can get from one place to another that quickly. Besides, I wouldn’t have been caught dead outside after the curfew went into effect,” Sage said.

  Wait, was she saying what I thought she was? The only citizens who weren’t obligated to follow the curfew were werewolves and that was only because they couldn’t control themselves under the Blood Moon.

  Could it really have been a werewolf that went after Circe? If so, why? Was it a scorned member of the group negotiating with her for werewolf power and representation? It would make sense.

  “But since you’re digging, maybe you’d be interested to know about something I’ve seen,” Sage said and my ears perked. “I don’t know that it means anything. It could just be because of all the trouble we’ve been through, but it is weird.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “There’s this vampire that’s been hanging around the shop after dark taking pictures,” Sage said, shivering. There was only one vampire photographer in all of Moon Grove that I knew of: Marcel Desfleurs at Grave Times. But why would he be out taking photos of Hypnotic Tonics in the dark?

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I used to think it was because he knew about all the trouble we’d had with the Council and was trying to catch us doing something wrong to spin it into a story for his vampire gossip rag,” Sage said.

  “But you don’t think that now?”

  “I dunno what to think, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we weren’t the only ones he’s been stalking. A vampire could move around under a curfew without being caught, especially if his powers were boosted by the Blood Moon like they say is possible,” Sage said.

  “Wait, even if he didn’t have anything to do with Circe’s death, if it’s true he’s been following people around at night it’s also possible he caught something juicy on camera,” Mallory said. I was already one step ahead of her.

  “Yeah, like whoever lit Circe’s house on fire,” I said. “Looks like it’s time to pay my competition a visit. Thanks for the tip, Sage.”

  “Sure, whatever. Are we done here?” she asked.

  “Yup, I’ll leave you two to it. Good luck with the project,” I said with a wink and showed myself out of the diner to walk home.

  On the way, I called Beau and didn’t get an answer so I left a message asking if he’d like to have dinner the following night. Flora was right: the phone did work both ways, but it hadn’t given me the comfort I wanted. Hopefully, he’d call me back soon.

  To distract myself, I sent a text to Mallory:

  >>Me: Thanks for the help, I owe you big time.

  As usual, she wrote back right away:

  >>Mallory: You bet your broom you do, and I intend to collect.

  Chapter Ten

  Instead of putting the finishing touches on the small business story Mitch had assigned me the week before like I was supposed to be doing, I sat staring idly at my computer screen, unable to think about anything other than Marcel Desfleurs and Grave Times.

  Finally, I gave up and went to talk to Mitch. As editor-in-chief of the Moon Grove Messenger, it was his responsibility to know everything about our competition — and I had a ton of questions.

  I crossed the newsroom, careful not to have my head taken off by any of the various documents and office supplies soaring from desk to desk above me. Why couldn’t Moon Grove just embrace email? It was far less dangerous.

  Mitch’s office door was closed so I knocked lightly.

  “What is it? I’m busy,” Mitch growled, his voice muffled.

  “It’s Zoe. Can we talk?” I asked and opened the door without waiting for an answer. Mitch was hunched over his keyboard hammering away at something. He looked up at me and sighed, his more-tangled-than-usual beard fluttering in his breath.

  “You don’t look so hot, boss. Blood Moon got you ill?” I asked as I closed the door behind me.

  “Oh, stop, you’re making me howl with laughter,” Mitch said and rolled his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be finishing a story for me? Deadline’s in a few hours.”

  “I know, but I can’t focus and this is somewhat relevant to the story,” I said and took a seat across from him.

  “Do I want to know?”

  “It’s Marcel Desfleurs. You know, the photographer over at Grave Times,” I said. Mitch bared his teeth at me and for a moment I worried he was going to go full wolf and tear me limb from limb.

  “Yeah, I know who he is,” he mumbled as he got a grip on himself. “What about him?”

  “I think he might have some connection to Councilwoman Woods’ death,” I said. Mitch raised his eyebrows.

  “Really? Why?”

  “Well, I went to talk to Hilda Blackwood like you suggested a couple days ago and I met her assistant, Sage. Long story short, Sage was more interesting to me so I met with her again yesterday,” I said.

  “Yeah, and?”

  “She said Marcel’s been hanging around their shop after dark snapping pictures,” I said.

  “What? Why?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what I want to know,” I laughed.

  “I mean, as much as Grave Times says they’re representing an ‘unbiased view of life for vampires’ in Moon Grove, everyone knows they only exist to publish rumors that make the witches look bad,” Mitch said.

  “To what end?” I asked.

  “Good question. You’ll have to ask Lucien Bellerose abou
t that, but something tells me he’s still salty about the Council’s handling of vampire relations,” Mitch said and my mouth dropped open.

  Lucien was what many called the Undead Land Baron of Moon Grove — he owned or had a stake in nearly every piece of property in town. He also happened to be someone I’d interviewed previously in connection with a different murder.

  “Wait, he owns Grave Times?” I asked.

  “Are you kidding? What doesn’t he own around here? That’s why the paper’s run out of his big office building over in the Vampire’s Quarter.”

  “That changes things,” I muttered. “So is that why you said Grave Times is going after witches in their coverage?”

  “Absolutely, but I don’t really know why Marcel would be interested in Hypnotic Tonics of all stories,” Mitch said.

  “Maybe for the same reason we are,” I said. “I think he might know something, and Sage said she wouldn’t be surprised if Marcel was following other people around too.”

  “Neither would I. He’s vampire paparazzi so that’s sort of his job,” Mitch said.

  “I think I should talk to him, and maybe Lucien too,” I said. “You know, use the same excuse about covering small businesses. They’ll eat it up.”

  “Please, Lucien’s way too savvy for that. Besides, that story’s due by close of business today, remember?” Mitch asked, eyeing me. “So maybe you should be back at your desk finishing that instead of bothering me.”

  “It was nice talking to you too,” I said and stuck my tongue out at him as I stood. He smirked. “What are you working on anyway? I’ve never seen you type so fast.”

  “Nothing,” Mitch said and smashed the buttons on his keyboard to lock his screen when I leaned over to peek at it.

  “Don’t make me jump inside your brain to find out,” I said.

  “Don’t make me assign you to write puff pieces for the rest of the month,” Mitch said.