by Sonia Parin
“What happened to you wanting to preserve your nine lives?”
“I can’t go against my nature. I am first and foremost your feline companion, ordained to stand by your side.”
“So it’s in your job description.”
“This isn’t a job but rather a way of life. My calling.”
“Changing subjects at a rate of knots, why does the Coven want me to master the art of potion making?” Lexie asked. “I have the elements at my disposal. What more do I want?”
“You can never have enough knowledge,” Luna said. As for learning to make potions, I’m guessing it’s for the same reason you learn to add, subtract and divide. Practical knowledge.” Luna stopped and looked up at Lexie. “Are you chatting because you’re nervous about being here?”
“A little. I don’t have your night vision.”
Luna nodded. “And that’s why I’m taking the lead.” She lowered her head and prowled for a few steps only to stop again. When Lexie caught up with her, Luna said, “I think that’s the Crone’s cottage.”
Lexie crouched down. The path appeared to wind toward a clearing where a small cottage stood. She studied the mullioned windows and thatched roof. “I don’t see a lamp but there’s a soft glow around the cottage.”
“It’s the Crone’s magic. She is powerful. I bet everything we see around us is due to her magic.” Luna took a step and stopped. “So what’s the plan?”
“Um… I don’t have one, but I suppose now we’re here we should try to get some information out of the Crone.” Lexie frowned. “Is that really her name? I don’t want to insult her.”
“A rose is a rose… by any other name. It’s all in the inflection,” Luna suggested. “Put emphasis on respect and throw in some admiration.”
“But what if she turns out to be a real crone?”
“Well then, I guess you’ll have to fake it.”
Lexie straightened. “Should we watch out for booby traps?”
“Smart thinking.” Luna’s ears twitched. “Incoming.”
“Huh?” Looking ahead, Lexie saw a tiny light headed toward them. “It looks like a bumblebee.”
Luna stilled. “You could test your powers over the elements here and send a light breeze her way.”
“No, that would be like firing the first shot.” The soft glow drew closer. “Is that a fairy?”
Luna looked up. “You’ve never seen one.”
“I might have once or twice when I was younger but I probably thought I was imagining it.” The fairy flew around Lexie a couple of times as if taking her measure. Dressed in a pretty bubblegum pink gown, she had golden wings and a string of pearls wound around her golden hair.
The fairy hovered in front of Lexie and said, “I have been sent to welcome you, Mackenzie. The Crone has been expecting you.”
“It’s Lexie.”
“You are a Mackenzie witch.”
“Well, yes.”
“Then, it’s Mackenzie. Follow me and stay on the path.”
When they reached the cottage, Lexie realized they’d left behind the darkness and now stood in the middle of a bright, sunny day. The front door stood open but Lexie waited for the fairy to beckon them inside.
“After you.”
Luna and Lexie strode in together. From the outside, the cottage had looked small, but inside... “It’s massive.”
The fairy pointed them toward a double door. “Through there.”
“You said the Crone was expecting me. How did she know I’d be coming?”
The fairy inspected her fingernails and shrugged. “Who knows? Oh, and the feline companion stays here. You go in alone.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Luna purred.
“Neither do I, but what choice do we have?”
“Are you sure?” Luna asked. “This is like asking you to leave your weapon at the door.”
“Take it or leave it,” the fairy said.
“A fairy with an attitude,” Lexie murmured. “I hope we’re not being gullible and walking straight into a trap.”
“Would I do that to one of my own?”
The Crone…
She sat by a large stone fireplace on a high-backed carved chair. The sitting room was sparsely furnished with an armoire and a couple of dainty side tables. Lexie tried not to stare but she couldn’t help it. She’d formed a mental picture and had expected to see an old woman with a wart prominently displayed at the end of her pointy chin, and that’s precisely what she saw.
For a second.
Then a veil lifted and the Crone stood up, almost matching Lexie in height. She looked like an older version of her mom. Her fine features were enhanced by eyes the color of emeralds and bright auburn hair that cascaded around her narrow shoulders. Her svelte figure was clad in a skintight dress that fell to her ankles.
“You have your mother’s cheekbones.” The Crone signaled for Lexie to turn around and must have put some magic in the gesture.
She knew her mom? Lexie’s legs wobbled and her feet moved of their own accord.
“You have questions, but first, did you find my stolen magic? No, of course you didn’t.”
Lexie stopped spinning. “We need to know what you’re missing.”
The Crone shook her head. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”
“Well… yes, sort of. We think it was a potion.” Lexie remembered Luna had mentioned smelling licorice on her breath. “Did it have licorice?”
“Maybe.”
“We also assume it was an inside job.”
The Crone swung toward the fireplace. “You haven’t embraced all your powers yet.”
Lexie couldn’t tell if she disapproved or not. “I’m a late bloomer. Right now, I’m supposed to be mastering the art of potion making.”
The Crone laughed. “And you’re looking for a shortcut.” She made a flourishing gesture with her hand. “Potion making is not for everyone.”
That’s what she’d figured. “I don’t mean to be pushy, but what can you tell me about the thief? We’ve narrowed it down to a pixie.”
“Yes, and good luck trying to get your hands on him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Puckers. He was my butler. Not that I receive that many visitors. Most of my kind choose to dwell within your realm and are too busy to visit the old world.”
“What did you do to land yourself here?” Lexie asked. If Luna had been with her, she would have flicked her tail or sunk her teeth into her to snap her out of her faux pas state.
“It all happened so long ago. I don’t like to dwell.”
The Crone held her gaze, almost as if taunting Lexie to push for more information. “Okay, well… now I know we need to focus on finding Puckers… I should get going.”
“So soon?” The Crone’s bright eyes slid over to the chair opposite the fireplace.
Lexie knew she should get a move on, but the Crone had been right. She did have questions. Lexie sat down.
“How is your mother?”
“She’s fine.” Lexie took a deep swallow. “Where do you know her from?” More to the point, how long had they known each other?
The Crone gave her a small smile. “Don’t worry. She used to be my pupil.” She looked into the distance as though remembering a time long ago. “I used to take in one pupil every blue moon but then I grew weary of seeing such lack of commitment and enthusiasm to the craft so I closed my doors to them.”
At the click of her fingers, a chessboard materialized between them. Instead of chess pieces, there were dainty bottles with liquids in all shades of the rainbow.
“Does your mother know you’re here?” The Crone smiled and answered her own question. “No, of course not. She would never have allowed it.” She leaned forward. “Are you afraid?”
A tiny bit, Lexie admitted, but only because the Crone seemed to be as evasive as her cousin, Mirabelle and the Coven. “That depends. Are you temperamental?”
“It’s my prerogative.” The Crone sat back. �
�There’s an art to extracting the most valuable ingredients from plants and other sources. A good cauldron is essential to practicing the craft. I’m guessing you have one of those. Yes, of course you do. That’s a start, but it really won’t do you much good. There’s a lot to be said for fresh, unpolluted air and quality ingredients.”
If Luna had been there with them, she would have suggested a trade and eagerly anticipated how much money they could make out of the deal.
The Crone picked up one of the bottles and waved it at Lexie. “Charm of Love. My latest creation. Much improved from the last versions.”
“It’s a pretty shade of pink,” Lexie said.
“Vintage pink,” the Crone agreed with a nod. “As innocuous as it is, if a love potion falls into the wrong hands it could spell disaster.”
“Tell me about it. I’m assuming Puckers took a love potion. People appear to be falling in love with the first person they look at.”
“Then he stole straight from a fresh batch, which means the stolen potion is quite erratic because it’s missing one key ingredient, something I add after it has cooled down. Would you like to know what it is?”
“Eye of newt?”
The Crone gave her a lifted eyebrow look that carried more than a hint of disdain. “You are a late bloomer. No, not eye of newt.” She grimaced. “Licorice. It changes the color from a garish pink to a lovely shade of vintage pink. The difference it makes is significant and that’s why you have people falling for the wrong person.”
Lexie pressed her hand to her chest but it did nothing to stop the heaviness she felt. Was Jonathan wrong for her? “So why did Puckers steal it from you? What did you do to him?”
“Foolish boy.” The Crone surged to her feet and strode around the quaint sitting room. “Ungrateful fiendish pixie that he is, he thought he could coerce me into—” She stopped pacing and looked up at a portrait of a man.
“Who’s that?” Lexie asked.
“No one. Someone. It doesn’t matter. It no longer matters.”
An old flame, Lexie guessed. The portrait hung opposite the fireplace and the Crone’s chair was positioned directly in front of it.
The Crone swung away from the picture. “You have what you came for. Use his name and he will show himself.”
“That’s it?” She’d recklessly rushed into the unknown, risking both her neck and Luna’s for a name?
“Would you have known his name if you hadn’t come here?”
Jonathan had been close. “Um… Is there any chance I might pick up some basic potion making skills while I’m here?”
“You want to dabble?”
“I have to start somewhere.” Her gaze slid back to the portrait. Also, she wanted to know how the Crone had ended up stuck in her own realm.
***
“Finally,” Luna said when Lexie emerged from the sitting room. “What took you so long? That fairy’s been eyeballing me and hissing at me. I was about to scratch her wings off.”
The fairy in question swooped down and blew Luna a raspberry.
“Come on, we should hurry.” Lexie wrapped her fingers around the small bottle the Crone had given her. “In the time we’ve been here Puckers might have done some real damage.”
“It seems you got what you came for. What did the Crone say to you? I tried to eavesdrop, but the fairy wouldn’t stop buzzing her wings around me. She has no idea how close she came to becoming a tasty morsel.”
“What’s come over you? You won’t even look at a mouse sideways.”
“I think this place has brought out the feral in me.”
They hurried along the path with the fairy leading the way. When they reached the door, the fairy turned to Lexie.
“You should come back for a visit. We’re all afraid of what the Crone will turn into if she remains here alone.”
Lexie doubted her visits would make a difference. “She’s agreed to take me on as her pupil.”
The fairy looked impressed. “She didn’t tell you the whole truth,” the fairy said. “If she keeps going the way she is, this door is not going to hold her back. I’ve said too much.” The fairy flew off only to double-back. “Here, catch.”
Lexie’s instinct was to duck for cover but at the last second, she spread her hands and caught a small golden pouch.
“Oh,” Luna exclaimed. “Fairy dust.”
“It works wonders on snarky cats,” the fairy called out.
“I should have taken a bite out of her when I had the chance…”
Chapter Six
“Any time you’re ready, feel free to tell me what the Crone said to you.”
Lexie didn’t answer straightaway. Her thoughts were in a quagmire. She couldn’t forget how she’d behaved with Jonathan. None of it had been real because she had been under the influence of a half-cocked love potion, and yet… Lexie had to admit she’d always felt a connection to him. Had she imagined it?
“The Crone is lonely.” And full of regrets for her past actions. Using herself as a test subject for her love potions had driven her over the edge, hence the door, put there at her insistence when the object of her desire had rejected her. “She had her heart broken.”
“Love is a strong emotion and can make one do strange things,” Luna mused. “Are you going to tell Jonathan how you feel about him?”
Lexie shook her head. “Even if I do, I doubt he’s ready to hear it.” Besides, she had no idea how she really felt about him.
Luna looked over her shoulder at the cottage. “The fact you’re concerned about your feelings for him says a great deal. The moment you start weighing those in, love is bound to follow.”
When they returned, they found the bar in a state of pandemonium. Indiana O’Rourke had called for backup, which appeared to throw everyone into confusion, as all the O’Rourke detectives looked the same.
Lexie ducked in time to avoid a wallop on the face. “Puckers has to be here somewhere. I’d have to bellow out his name to be heard over the commotion.” A mug flew over her head and crashed against the wall. “Okay, this is getting way out of hand.”
“Watch out,” Luna warned. When Lexie looked around in confusion, Luna bit her ankle.
“Ouch.” Lexie jumped forward and landed behind the bar just as a bottle whizzed past her.
“Sorry. It was all I could think of doing to get you out of the way.”
“Next time, you might want to try telling me to move or… jump… or duck.” She rubbed her ankle. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Lexie looked about her. “We need to stop this right now.”
“You could try setting the fire sprinklers off,” Luna suggested. “You can call on the elements and set one of those paper hearts on fire.”
Lexie pointed a finger at one and focused on conjuring a spark. After several failed attempts, she thought a boy scout could do better with a stick and stone.
“Try thinking of a flame instead of a spark. Cut to the chase.”
Lexie pictured flames engulfing the heart shape. In an instant, the paper cutout caught fire. The next one followed and set off a domino effect. Finally the sprinklers went off showering everyone in the pub with a fine mist of water.
Instead of pacifying the crowd, it incensed them. Punches were thrown. People lost their balance, slipped and fell.
Lexie groaned. “I made it worse.”
“You could revisit your original idea and bellow out his name. The Crone had a potent voice. Perhaps you do too.”
Lexie growled between clenched teeth and thought about thunder and lightning as she roared, “Puckers.”
Everyone stilled and fell silent. Jonathan and Indiana gaped at her. The other O’Rourke detectives took a step back.
Lexie rose to her feet and sent her gaze skating around the bar. Rory was the only person moving. “Why is she swatting her head?”
“Get it off me,” Rory yelled.
“Her hairpin’s come alive,” Luna said.
Lex
ie rushed toward her. “Stand still.” She made a grab for the hairpin but it danced away from her. In the blink of an eye, it changed form, from a hairpin to…
“Puckers!” Lexie reached for the pouch the fairy had given her, grabbed a handful of fairy dust and threw it at Puckers just as it was about to leap off Rory’s head. Puckers quivered and then froze.
Lexie reached for it, but Indiana beat her to it grabbing Puckers by its tiny ear and dropping him into a tiny birdcage.
“Where did that come from?” Lexie asked.
Indiana answered with a lifted eyebrow look.
“Right,” Lexie said. “From wherever it was.”
As Indiana strode off to the back room, no doubt to interrogate Puckers, he signaled to one of the O’Rourke detectives. “Take care of the crowd. Wipe any trace of events from their memories.”
***
“Where are we going?” Luna asked. “The party is in full swing. Don’t you want to stay and celebrate the capture of the unruly pixie?”
“There’s something I have to do.” Lexie stood on the corner outside O’Connor’s. Sprinkling some fairy dust on the palm of her hand, she called on a light breeze to carry the dust and light the way to James Alexander McCarthy. The name had been inscribed on the portrait. When Puckers had admitted to stealing the potion in order to, in his words, balance the books, Lexie had decided to finish the task he’d set out to accomplish.
“Haven’t you learned anything?” Luna asked. “Look at the trouble Puckers’ meddling caused.”
“He didn’t meddle.” The pixie had actually had good intentions. With every passing year, the Crone had been getting crankier and Puckers had decided he’d had enough of her moaning about ruining her chances with James Alexander McCarthy because she’d been under the influence of her own love potion. All these years, she’d believed her love had been unrequited…
Luna blinked. “That’s the part I don’t quite understand. Why did Puckers think he could reunite the couple by spiking people’s drinks? Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing your thoughts.”
“Jonathan was right. Puckers is nothing but a mischievous little monkey. When he escaped from the Crone’s realm, he got sidetracked, forgot his mission and decided to have some fun instead.” Changing himself to a hairpin, he’d first latched on to Dawn and then he’d hopped over to Rory. A light breeze swirled around her hand, lifted the fairy dust and sent it off wafting ahead of her. “Come on. Let’s follow it.”
