Toil & Trouble

by Emery Belle

  When the staff gathered around the table saw me, they burst into raucous applause. I grinned awkwardly and gave a little curtsy, spreading my housekeeping smock like a ballgown, my cheeks pink with pleasure as my coworkers stood one by one to shake my hand or offer me a high-five.

  “We always knew you could do it,” a yeti said, clapping me on the back so hard the wind was knocked out of me.

  “Make sure you stop in and see Gerald,” a witch said, nodding toward the adjacent room. “I saw him earlier, and he told me he had a surprise for you.”

  “I can’t believe he’s back at work,” I said, shaking my head as I started toward the next room. “I would have thought he’d want to take a nice, long vacation after all he’s been…”

  But my voice trailed off as I stepped inside and saw the gnome, fast asleep, his head on the table, his mouth open—the same position I’d seen him in on that fateful night.

  “Gerald,” I whispered, unable to hold back a laugh at the sight of him. “Don’t you think you should find a better place to sleep? You don’t want to be accused of another—”

  My words turned into a gasp of surprise as I stepped down awkwardly on something on the ground, and before I knew what was happening, I was falling forward, my arms flailing as I tried to grab the edge of the table. My hand missed, and instead of grabbing the table, I accidentally whacked Gerald on the shoulder.

  Except.

  My hand went directly through him, as though he wasn’t even there.

  I stared at my hand dumbly, then raked my eyes over the floor, trying to locate whatever I’d tripped over. There it was—I squatted down to where I’d kicked the object beneath the table and pulled out a thin laser light. A few feet away was a photograph, and when I picked it up, I saw that it was a picture of Gerald, in the very same position, hunched over the very same table.

  I glanced from the photo to Gerald to the laser and back again. What was going on?

  And then, it hit me.

  Gerald’s newest invention, the one he said he was most proud of. What had he called it…?

  The MH-3000. A magical hologram. He’d invented a tool to make people believe he was somewhere he wasn’t. My stomach twisted, and bile rose up the back of my throat.

  I glanced at the fake Gerald again, and my eye caught something beneath his hand. A note, addressed to me.

  Dear Wren,

  Thanks to you, I am free. Our paths won’t cross again in this lifetime, though I am forever in your debt. Don’t look for me; you will find me everywhere, but nowhere. If you ever find the real me, I am not responsible for what happens.

  Yours,

  Gerald

  Chapter 16

  The island was in perfect form, but I was a wreck.

  I sat on the docks, clutching a single small suitcase to my chest, and stared out over the pristine water, today a blue so deep it looked like glass. The waves were lapping gently against the shore, and at this early hour, the golden-brown sand was undisturbed by footprints or the remnants of sand castles. Two dragons the color of the sun soared overhead, dipping in and out of the clouds, while below them a seagull circled over the water, searching for his breakfast.

  In such a short time, this place had become my home. And I would miss it like a physical punch to the gut.

  The ferry emerged from the ocean’s depths, the glass bubble encapsulating it melting before my eyes as the first passengers of the morning prepared to board. I set my suitcase on the weathered wooden docks and joined the queue of creatures waiting to step inside, tipping back my head to gaze up at the flag that fluttered from the mast, cobalt blue and dotted with miniature stars that changed from gold to silver and back again.

  When I last saw that flag, I’d been on a canoe with Glenn, frightened and bewildered, heading to the island for the first time. The island had been a terrifying unknown; now, it was part of my very soul, and would remain that way until I took my last breath.

  I blinked back tears as the line began to move, and when I arrived at the ferry’s entrance, I handed my ticket to the goblin and dragged my suitcase inside. Sidestepping a vampire staring longingly at the creamy white necks of a group of pretty fairies, I wound my way around the seats until I found a secluded chair in the very corner of the ferry, near the window. After sliding into it and tucking my suitcase beneath my feet, I pressed my forehead against the glass, watching the first beachgoers of the day tramping down the sand, weighed down with coolers and beach towels and a colorful umbrella, and finally allowed myself to cry.

  The tears flowed freely down my cheeks as I thought of my friends, my family, the people I turned to when I had nowhere else to go. Glenn, the father I’d never had but always dreamed of. Garnet, my sister, my partner-in-crime. Hunter, my slightly disapproving brother who would nevertheless always have my back when I needed him. And yes, even Monty—though when it came to the shrunken head, I was, as usual, at a loss for words.

  Pierre, my faithful companion, my comfort, my meatball buddy—he wasn’t much of a familiar, but he was the best friend any girl could ask for.

  And Cole. Had he been the one? My heart told me yes, but now, I would never know what could have been. What should have been. He was lost to me now.

  I didn’t want to leave, but I had to. I was a danger, to myself and others, and it was only a matter of time before the islanders found out who I was, where I had come from. And when they did, what then? They wouldn’t accept me with open arms, that much I could say with certainty after witnessing Homer Vale’s reaction to discovering the truth about me. Would I be forced to live as an outcast, like Harold, the werewolf who lived alone in the gloomy woods with nothing but the wolf cubs for company? Would I be sent back to the mainland? Or would I be executed, to rid the magical world of the risk my very existence represented?

  And to top it all off, there was Gerald. A phony. A murderer. A man I’d personally been responsible for freeing. My stupidity, my short-sightedness, my arrogance, my inability to look at the facts allowed a killer to walk the streets once more, and if he chose to end another life, that person’s blood was on my hands, and my hands alone.

  I no longer belonged on the island. Nor did I deserve to. So it was time for me to go.

  I took a deep, shuddering breath and mopped at my eyes as the ferry churned to life and the captain’s voice floated through the room, asking all passengers to take their seats and prepare for departure. A yeti sat down opposite me, giving my swollen eyes and red nose a curious once-over before pulling out a guidebook of Antarctica and quickly becoming absorbed in its pages. Gazing out the window, I watched the protective bubble form itself once more around the ferry, and a few seconds later, with a gut-swooping lurch, the boat began to descend beneath the waves.

  I settled back in my seat and closed my eyes, attempting to get some rest. I had a long day—days—ahead of me, trying to reclaim some semblance of a life back in the human world. That meant finding an apartment, a job, figuring out if my credit cards still worked… not to mention the mess I would have to talk my way out of if someone had realized I was missing and reported it to the police. The latter scenario wasn’t a likely one, though—I didn’t really have anyone to go home to. That last thought was like a dagger to my heart, and it brought a wave of fresh tears to my eyes.

  I blinked them back, watching the ferry sink lower and lower, the water almost at eye-level outside my window. I huddled in on myself, shivering, trying not to think about what my friends would think when they woke up and found me gone. I hadn’t even left a note—I just… couldn’t. What would I even say?

  The ferry gave another great lurch, this time in the opposite direction, and began rising back toward the docks. “Oh for pity’s sake,” the yeti across from me said, checking his fur-lined wristwatch with an exasperated sigh. “I’ve got to be on Star Island in an hour to catch a polar bear with my cousin to the Frozen Island, and then from there we booked the beluga whale express to take us to Antarctica. I don’t have time
for a delay.”

  I managed to give him a sympathetic smile, then pressed my nose to the window, craning my neck to try and identify the source of the holdup. As we ascended, I caught a glimpse of a man standing on the shore, his arm extended, palm up, rising in perfect synchrony with the ferry—almost as if he was lifting it out of the waves through sheer force of magic. When we got closer, I could see the sun glinting off his silver-white hair and robes of deep black threaded with starlight, and let out a gasp of recognition.

  When we came to a stop at the docks, the man strode forward, his steps sure, his dark eyes fixed on the ferry. Then he was gone in the blink of an eye, disappearing from the shore and appearing… right next to me. No one else in the room seemed to register his presence; in fact, no one else in the room was moving at all. He had somehow managed to freeze them in place—the yeti still glaring at his watch, a vampire’s head thrown back, mid-laugh, as he sipped a frothy blood latte, a brownie squatting on the floor, rag in hand, to polish off scuff marks.

  I gazed up at him, my eyes filled with questions, but his face was as impenetrable as usual.

  “Get up,” he said, sending my suitcase floating into the air with a flick of his hand. “You are far too immersed in our world to leave; now that your magic has come to fruition, you will lose even more control and become a walking time bomb. You will do far more danger off the island than on it.” He turned and began striding toward the exit, but I remained rooted in my seat, unable to move.

  Was this it? Was there a chance for me? Was this my reason to stay?

  I could barely breathe, barely dare to hope…

  “What happens if I stay?” I called, and he stopped, one hand on the door, and turned back to me. His cold black eyes bored into mine, but for just a fleeting moment, I thought I caught something else there—something soft, something sorrowful. Or perhaps it was just a trick of the light, because when I took a second look, it had vanished.

  “You will need to be tutored,” he said, his voice curt. “By me. I expect you in my office at Sparrow Manor at seven o’clock Monday morning. Don’t be late.” Then, without another word, he exited the ferry, his polished black shoes clipping down the docks.

  As his words sank in, the weight on my heart lifted. For the first time in days, I felt like I could take a full breath.

  I didn’t hesitate a moment longer. I grabbed my suitcase, hitched my purse over my shoulder, and followed Lord Macon out into the sunshine.

  My dorm room was quiet when I arrived home, Monty and Pierre snoozing soundly, Garnet out on a morning walk with Calvin. I had just thrown my suitcase onto the bed when a sparrow appeared at the window with a small note clamped in its beak. Eager not to let Monty see what he would surely consider a tasty pre-breakfast snack, I opened the window as quietly as I could, snagged the note from the sparrow’s beak, and sent it away with a pat on the head.

  I immediately tore the note open, surprised to see Glenn’s handwriting. Only two brief lines, written in a shaky hand, and the paper was puckered in places, as though it had been splashed with water… or tears.

  I can’t bear to be alone right now. I sure could use a friend.

  Without a second thought, I grabbed my jacket and headed back outside, hurrying all the way to Glenn’s shed-masquerading-as-a-house and pounding on the door with both fists. “Glenn!” I called. “It’s me! Open up.”

  I thought I heard the distant sounds of someone crying, which only made panic well up faster in my stomach, and I was just trying to work out a way to break down the door when it was flung open.

  “You came!” Glenn collapsed into my arms, all tears and snot and red-rimmed eyes. “I was afraid I’d have to do this by myself…”

  He led me into the house, toward the metal box holding Clementine that was now shaking so violently it was leaving deep scores in the wood floors. I heard a low snarling sound coming from within and stepped back hastily, careful to keep my distance from the rogue mannequin.

  “She keeps getting worse and worse,” Glenn whispered, honking his nose into a tissue. “I’ve tried everything I can think of, but she’s like a wild animal.” He lowered his eyes. “I think it’s time we say goodbye, and return her to her natural state.” His voice was shaking, and I threw a comforting arm around his shoulders.

  “I’ll be with you the whole way,” I said, though I hadn’t the faintest idea what de-animating a mannequin entailed.

  Glenn squared his shoulders, then marched up to the box and slid his wand out of his pocket. “Stand back,” he instructed me. “This could get messy.”

  He aimed a spell at the box, sending the door flying open and crashing into the wall, and I couldn’t hold back my scream as Clemmy, now looking quite deranged—her hair in knots, her eyes glowing red—lunged for Glenn’s throat.

  “Mori!” Glenn bellowed, and the mannequin crumpled to the ground, her head cocked at an awkward angle, her arms bent unnaturally. It took a few moments before I was brave enough to approach her, but when I was positive she was no longer moving, I tiptoed up to her, staring down into her lifeless eyes.

  “It wasn’t meant to be,” I said to Glenn, who had come to stand beside me, head bowed. “You deserve a woman—a real woman—who will love you unconditionally, and I just don’t think Clemmy had it in her.”

  “Perhaps you’re right.” Glenn gave a great sniff and then padded away, returning a few seconds later with a white sheet. Bending down, he tenderly wrapped the mannequin inside the sheet until only her feet were showing, then whispered a quick prayer beneath his breath. When he was finished, he produced his wand one last time, and with a bang that sent the birds outside the window flapping into the sky, Clemmy disappeared from the room, sheet and all.

  I stayed for a while after that, both to keep Glenn company and because I could use some myself. By the time the sun was high in the sky, Glenn was looking noticeably more cheerful, and he had even bounded into the kitchen to whip up a fresh batch of peanut brittle he insisted I take home with me as a thank-you gift.

  “And one more thing,” he said slightly hesitantly as he followed me to the front door. “What you said about needing to find a woman who loves me… I think you’re right.”

  “I’m so glad to hear you say that.” I pressed a gentle kiss to his wrinkled cheek. “No one in this world deserves to find happiness more than you.”

  He clapped his hands together, suddenly all-business. “So you’ll help me, then?”

  I cocked my head, warning bells blaring in my brain. “Help you what?”

  His face broke into a beatific grin. “Help me find my next lady love, of course.”

  I laughed, and then said, without hesitation, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading Toil & Trouble, the fifth book in the Magic Island series! If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review on Amazon to help other readers find out about my books.

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  The magic and mayhem continues with the sixth book in the series, available soon!

  About the Author

  Emery Belle is the author of paranormal cozies featuring plenty of magic, mystery, and a dash of mayhem. When she isn't dreaming up new worlds or wandering around the house with her nose in a book, you can find her digging her toes in the golden sand beaches of Southern California (sadly, she hasn't found the ferry docks for Magic Island yet), fitting in a serious game of bowling, or chasing around an overly excitable, and overly large, rescue pup.

 

 

 
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