by Zoe Arden
"Well?" Trixie asked, looking from Ava to Eleanor. "What do you think?"
"I like it," I told her.
Eleanor, Trixie's older sister, smiled broadly. "Glitter," she muttered, shaking her head. "No birthday party is complete without glitter. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because your brain is muddled with old age," Trixie said, laughing. "Whereas mine is still young and vibrant."
Eleanor's brow furrowed. Her bright blond hair—a trait Ava shared with both of her aunts—swung around her head in a soft halo. "The last time I checked, we were both in our forties."
"Yes but I'm just barely into them. You've been there for quite some time. Besides, if anyone asks, I'm thirty-nine."
"You've been thirty-nine for the last three years," Eleanor said.
"Witch's prerogative," Trixie said, still smiling. She winked at me and turned to grab another streamer.
Eleanor lifted one hand, pointed her pinky at her younger sister, and twirled it around in the air. Trixie's hair lifted toward the ceiling and took Trixie with it. Her feet dangled off the ground.
"Hey!" Trixie shouted. "Put me down!"
I tried not to laugh but it was impossible. Trixie's hot pink leggings kicked out from under her and the bright yellow shirt she wore flared around her tummy. She looked like a piece of Easter candy. She struggled against Eleanor's spell for a minute before finally lifting her hand and washing it over her body, uttering a soft incantation as she did so. She dropped to the ground, her hair a messy tangle around her shoulders.
"When you mess with your sister's hair," Trixie said, attempting to straighten out her long locks, "you've crossed a line." She tried using her fingers as a comb to smooth out the knots that had formed but her rings kept getting caught in them.
"When you call your sister old," Eleanor said, "you've crossed a line."
They stood glowering at each other, their hands on their hips. Their lips were pursed so tightly they looked like a couple of fish.
"I have news for both of you," I told them. "I turned twenty-two today. To me, you're both old."
Their eyes widened. My father, Eli Fortune, laughed from the corner where he'd retreated when Eleanor and Trixie's bickering had begun. He knew better than to get in their way.
"You can't be mad at me for saying that," I told Eleanor and Trixie as their glares turned from each other to me. "It's my birthday. I'm pretty sure that means I get to say and do whatever I want."
They looked at each other and a second later their frowns turned to grins. The three of us started giggling.
"If your mother were here," Eleanor said, shaking her head, "I'm pretty sure she'd send you to your room. She was older than both of us."
The thought of my mother interrupted my giggles. Even though she'd died shortly after I was born, there were times I felt as if I'd known her. My father and my aunts always painted such a vivid picture of her that I could close my eyes and see her anytime I wished.
"Come on," my dad said, clapping his hands together, "we've still got a lot to do before the party tonight."
Trixie grabbed another set of streamers, and Eleanor went back to work on her expansion charm. Our bakery, The Mystic Cupcake, was only large enough to hold a couple dozen people. She was attempting to make it big enough to hold a few hundred.
"Do you really think we need to expand it so much?" I asked Aunt Eleanor. "I mean, how many people are really going to show up to my party tonight aside from you and Lucy?"
"You can never be sure," Eleanor said. "I invited everyone."
I blinked. "Everyone? You mean... everyone here in Sweetland Cove?" Our town was small but it still held roughly 2500 people. I didn't think they would all be showing up this evening. Not all of them even liked me. I'd only been on the island a year or so and was still considered an outsider by many.
"No, of course not," Eleanor said, laughing lightly. My shoulders relaxed. "I invited everyone on Heavenly Haven."
My eyes bulged from their sockets. "You what?" I squealed. "You invited everyone on the entire island?"
Eleanor looked at me as if I'd lost my marbles. "Of course, I did. Why shouldn't I?"
I looked at my father, who just shrugged.
"Why would you invite everyone in Mistmoor?" I asked. "They don't like anyone in Sweetland Cove."
Mistmoor Point was the only other town on Heavenly Haven, a small island off the coast of Florida. Mistmoor and Sweetland had never exactly gotten along.
"There are exceptions," Eleanor said.
"That's true," Trixie jumped in. "What about Felicity? And Lincoln?"
"Your aunts have a point," my dad said. "Tazzie Singer has always been friendly with Sweetland. You wouldn't want to exclude her, would you?"
"No, I just..." I let out a loud sigh. I was looking forward to my party this evening, I just didn't want anything to go wrong. Mistmoor and Sweetland didn't mix well together. It seemed like the sort of set up that was just asking for trouble. Then again, there were only a handful of people from Mistmoor likely to show up. I'd be happy to see Felicity, Lincoln, and Tazzie. I doubted anyone else from there would come.
"Okay," I said, sighing and picking up a crystal bowl.
"Besides," Eleanor said, "even Mistmoor needs something to take its mind off this Polly Peacock nonsense."
I set the bowl on a counter as the door chimed and Natalie Vargas walked in. For once, she wasn't dragging her two small children along with her.
"Did I hear you say Polly Peacock?" Natalie asked. She had brown hair that was tied back into a low ponytail. She tugged at it, her eyes shining brightly, as she waited for the latest bit of gossip.
"I was just saying that we needed something to take our minds off things," Eleanor told her, trying to ignore the greedy look in her eyes. Natalie's gossiping had gotten worse when she'd hit thirty a few months ago, as if entering a new decade had triggered some internal desire to spread rumors.
Natalie's eyes gleamed brightly. "Well, for the record, I can't believe that they actually released her. It's a terrible thing. Practically tragic." The twinkle in her eyes only grew stronger. I knew she was building to something big. "That being said, I heard Polly's planning on moving to Los Angeles. She wants to be a movie star."
Natalie waited for her words to sink in. My dad and aunts all looked at each other, our brows crinkled. My dad finally cleared his throat. "I don't think Polly's allowed to go that far on her parole."
"Besides," said Eleanor, "Polly never said anything about wanting to be an actress when she was still living in Sweetland Cove."
"Well," Natalie said gruffly, "that's just what I heard. I thought you might be interested, considering your history with her."
I groaned, trying not to think about the last time I'd seen Polly. She'd tried to kill me and my old boyfriend, Damon Tellinger. Damon was human and had been so freaked out afterward that he'd broken up with me and left Heavenly Haven for good. I hadn't talked to him in months. Not that it mattered much now that I had Colt but I couldn't help wondering about him sometimes. I hoped he was doing well.
Natalie's eyes strayed to the counters lined with strawberry rose cupcakes and dark chocolate truffle cookies. "I just came in for a few snacks for the kids. I could care less about Polly Peacock." She moved toward the counter and picked up a tin of caramel cookies with calming extract and a second tin of party-time pralines. "I think I'll just get these."
"Lucy says that Polly's moving to the mainland," I told them all. "She heard it from her father."
Lucy Lockwood was my best friend and almost as big a gossip as Natalie Vargas. Lucy, however, had a certain degree of tact when discussing rumors that Natalie had never been able to develop.
Natalie laughed. "That's ridiculous. Why would she want to move to Florida when she can go to California and see celebrities? With her background, she'll fit right in. Everyone knows that movie stars are all drug addicts and murderers."
The door chimed and I looked over to see Tootsie, Snow
ball, and Rocky walk in. Snowball was my familiar, an all-white cat I'd found as a kitten. Actually, she'd found me. She was still only a year old but she had grown so much in the time we'd bonded that I sometimes had a hard time believing she had ever been so small.
Tootsie was Trixie's familiar, a fluffy orange cat who had belonged to my mother before her death. Tootsie and I shared a bond as well. Tootsie was very protective of me—almost as protective as Snowball—and was a sort of a secondary familiar, though technically there was no such thing. That technicality had never stopped the connection we shared though.
Rocky was a gray and white wolfhound who had been Eleanor's familiar since she was a child. He was big, silly, and loved to lick my face whenever I was trying to sleep. He was devoted to Eleanor and would rat me out in a second if he thought I was up to something. I loved him lots but had learned to watch what I said around him.
"Hi, Snowy," I said, reaching down to scratch Snowball's head as she wound her way between my feet.
"Snowball has news," she purred.
"News!" Natalie said, snapping her fingers. "I almost forgot. Do you know who else Dean Lampton and those warthogs at COMHA let out?" She took a breath, not bothering to wait for our answers. "Calista Woodruff!"
"Who?" I asked.
Tootsie let out a loud meow. Trixie and Eleanor glanced his way. "Tootsie has news, too," he said, his whiskers twitching. "Tootsie has important news."
Natalie did not give us a chance to ask Tootsie any questions. "Calista's a dim-witch from Mistmoor who accidentally killed some people a couple years ago. She was twelve at the time. Everyone said she was pure evil."
"No one said that," Eleanor scolded.
"Well, they should have," said Natalie, her face twitching.
"Calista didn't know what she was doing," Trixie jumped in. "She was a child. She's still a child. She can't be older than fourteen."
Rocky began to bark. He ran up to Eleanor and wagged his tail, licking the back of her hand. "Rocky must tell Mama what he knows. Mama must listen."
Eleanor scratched his head. "Yes, of course, just a moment." She turned her eyes back to Natalie. "If COMHA did one thing right, I think it was releasing Calista. That girl deserves a second chance."
Natalie let out a loud laugh. "Well, maybe Polly can take her to L.A. when she goes. The two of them belong there together."
"I seriously doubt anyone is moving to L.A.," my dad said, blowing up another balloon.
"If Polly doesn't go to California," Natalie said, crossing her arms over her chest, "then where is she planning to go? She can't come back here; this town would eat her alive."
"What about Mistmoor?" I ventured.
Eleanor and Trixie shook their heads.
"They'd be worse than Sweetland," Eleanor said. "Polly would be a criminal and an outsider."
"Mama," Snowball said, head-butting my ankle. I reached down to pet his head. "Mama must listen to Snowy."
"Yes," I muttered, my thoughts on Polly.
"I bet she goes to the mainland," my dad said. "Calista, too. It's the only thing that makes sense."
"Nothing about this makes sense," Natalie said. On that, they all agreed.
The door chimed just then and everyone looked to see who'd entered. My jaw hit the floor. A woman was standing there; her blond hair had been cut since the last time I'd seen her but it was still to her shoulders. It fell in soft ringlets, and she had the pinkest lips you'd ever see without lipstick. I tried to breathe and realized I'd forgotten how.
Polly Peacock looked around the bakery, her face pale. "Hello," she finally said, as if she were an old friend.
"Snowball has been trying to tell Mama," Snowy said in a whisper. "Polly Peacock is back in Sweetland Cove."
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CHAPTER
TWO
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Polly licked her lips. A bead of sweat ran down her cheek as we all stared at her. She wiped absently at it and opened her mouth, stuttering over her words. I almost felt bad for her. Almost.
"I-I just wanted... that is, I just came here to tell you... I wanted you all to know that I'm not looking for trouble."
Trixie's face twisted up. She ripped the streamer she'd been holding in her hand. Tootsie bounded over to her, bumping her furry orange head against Trixie's leg, attempting to calm her down. "Of course, that's what you'd say," Trixie said through gritted teeth.
"It's true," Polly said, her blue eyes widening. "I don't want to hurt anyone, I swear it. I don't even have my powers anymore. The Witch's Council made sure of that long ago." The Witch's Council wasn't quite as powerful as COMHA, though they tried to act like it sometimes. It was more of a local council made up of witches from Sweetland as well as Mistmoor. Their goal was to keep order on all magic used on Heavenly Haven.
Eleanor and my father stepped toward Polly at the same time. Polly took a step backward so that her back was pressed against the wall next to the door.
"I-I'm rehabilitated," she stammered.
"According to who?" I asked.
"Dean Lampton."
"Dean Lampton is a warthog," Snowball cried in her tiny voice. I laughed. I couldn't help it.
"This is all coming out wrong," Polly said, biting her bottom lip and eying Snowball suspiciously. Rocky had taken his place next to Eleanor's side. He watched Polly carefully as she began to pace.
The door chimed and Trevor Bailey walked in. He was in his mid-twenties, with light brown hair and tanned skin. He often came into Mystic with a bad case of the munchies.
"Hi all," he murmured, walking straight past Polly without noticing. He stopped by the counter and his eyes landed on me. "Hi, Ava," he said, a lopsided smile on his face. His eyes were glassy. He looked like a love-struck teenager.
He picked up a box of chocolate chip cookies, setting them by the register. "These are the only cookies I eat anymore," he said, still grinning at me. When no one made a move to ring him up, his smile faltered. He looked around the room with raised eyebrows and his eyes landed on Polly. His mouth opened in a silent "O."
"I think it's best if you leave," Eleanor said to Polly, trying to maintain her temper. Her hands were clenched at her sides. Her knuckles had gone white.
Polly nodded. "I am. I will. I just... Sweetland is a small town. I wanted you all to know I was back before you heard it from someone else. I wanted to tell you that... that I'm sorry. For everything."
Silence filled the room. Trevor's head swiveled toward my aunts then back to me. I could see him trying to remember every detail of what was happening so he could repeat it to his friends later.
"When are you leaving Sweetland?" I asked her. I could feel the collar of my shirt burning my neck as my temper rose. Snowball pawed at my feet, and a stream of comfort flowed through me.
"Leaving?" Polly asked, looking confused. "I'm not leaving Sweetland."
My heart thumped hard against my ribcage before settling into a light but erratic beat.
"You mean you're staying in Sweetland?" I asked. "Forever?" I blinked several times, as if that would somehow wash away this whole conversation. As if I was imagining things.
"I-I can't leave," Polly said, taking a small step toward me. "I have to stay here. It's part of my parole. I have to rejoin the community. Prove I'm a valuable member of society. That sort of thing."
"Valuable?" Natalie laughed. "How are you going to prove that?"
"I'm going to be working in my aunt's bakery." She twiddled her thumbs together, looking uncertain. "You know, Sweets n' Treats."
Eleanor and Trixie exchanged a look. Rocky began to bark loudly.
"Wilma agreed to that?" Eleanor asked. Polly nodded.
Wilma Trueheart was Polly's aunt. She was the sister of Polly's deceased mother and had spent her first month in Sweetland Cove attempting to shut down The Mystic Cupcake. Instead of blaming Polly for the death of Anastasia Peacock, s
he had blamed me and my family. Things between us had all gotten sorted out since then, which was part of the reason I was surprised to learn that she'd agreed to take on Polly in her bakery.
"I've been assigned a parole officer," Polly said, her voice rising a whole note. Her cheeks were pink and I knew this must have been hard for her. "I have to check in with them every day, so I can't even get into trouble if I wanted to. Aunt Wilma knows that."
The door chimed again, and Eleanor let out an exasperated sigh. "Can't people stay out of here for a minute?" she shouted, her temper finally flaring. She blushed when she saw that it was her husband, Sheriff Zane Knoxx.
"That's the best greeting I've gotten all day," Sheriff Knoxx said, his voice deep. His brow was scrunched together but he was grinning. Eleanor and Sheriff Knoxx had only been married a few months, so they were still in the honeymoon phase. It didn't much matter what they said or did, they couldn't stop smiling whenever they were near each other.
"Sorry," Eleanor said, going to him and taking his hand. "I'm afraid I may lose my temper even worse in another minute or two."
"Why?" Sheriff Knoxx asked. His body was wide and tall. He had dark bushy eyebrows that he'd only begun trimming since going out with Eleanor. His mother had been pure witch but there was goblin on his father's side and it showed. Especially in his temper. "What's going on?"
Eleanor nodded in Polly's direction. It was amazing how everyone walked right past her as they came in. I didn't think I'd have missed her anywhere. She had moved to a corner of the room, trying to make herself as small as possible. A shadow cast itself across her face.
It took Sheriff Knoxx a moment to realize who he was looking at. When he finally did, he crossed the room in three long strides and pulled Polly out of her corner. She shrieked.
