Banishment and Broomsticks (Emberdale Paranormal Cozy Mystery Book 2) Page 5

  The books glowed and hummed as the front covered opened. Inside there was one word written in big bold letters.

  YES.

  Okay, so the books couldn’t talk, but at least now, we could hear—or in this case read what they had to say. Write. Whatever.

  Placing the books on the coffee table, I removed my jacket and headed into the kitchen. Both Maggie and Sammy were right behind me, leaving Lucy to busy herself in my living room.

  “You’re going to leave them there?” Sammy asked, jumping onto the counter as I searched the cabinets for any coffee I might’ve left behind.

  I sighed once I realized the cupboards were bare. Granted, the last time I was in my house was after Maggie’s death, and that was right after it was fumigated, so maybe eating or drinking anything in this house was a bad idea.

  “I need coffee, Sam.”

  “Ask Lance,” Maggie said, smiling at me. “What? You two seem close enough.”

  “For coffee?” Maybe for me to catch a ride in his car, but coffee? Coffee was so… so… intimate, wasn’t it?

  “You said you wanted some, and because we can’t use my house with those books around…” She trailed off, hovering over to the sink to gaze across the property line at her place.

  “It’s a shame you can’t pick it up,” I said, wishing now more than anything she could.

  “Or you could ask Kat.”

  And let her have another field day? Getting teased constantly by Maggie about Lance was bad enough without having them both here to gang up on me.

  “I don’t have my phone,” I told her.

  “Your house phone still works.”

  She was right of course, and I really needed that coffee. Cringing at the thought of asking Lance for a favor after getting in the way of yet another investigation, I called his cell, then immediately hung up when he answered.

  “Astrid?” Maggie asked.

  “Wrong number,” I said, my face burning hot as both she and Sammy saw right through me.

  My heart rate was almost back to this side of normal when the house phone rang, its unusually shrill cry grating on the few nerves I had left. I answered it once I realized Lucy wasn’t about to pick it up in my place.

  “Hello?”

  “Cream and sugar, right?” It was Lance’s voice, and he was asking about coffee!

  “How did you—”

  “I’ve seen you drink it enough to know. What about Lucy?”

  Glancing down the hall toward the living room, I said, “Lucy, coffee?”

  “No thanks.”

  “She’ll pass,” I told Lance, “but thank you. You have no idea how empty these cabinets are.”

  There was a slight chuckle on the other end of the line. “I’ll be there in a few.”

  Once he hung up, I stood in my old kitchen, staring at a phone I’d never replace. “He’s buying me coffee.”

  “I don’t see the problem.” Sammy clearly didn’t understand how humans worked.

  “First it’s coffee, then it’s a luncheon, and soon, I’ll be stuck in a movie theater with overly buttered popcorn and a large drink to share. What am I going to do?” I hung the phone back on the wall, then sank in one of the chairs around my kitchen table.

  “It’s just coffee.” He sounded so sure of himself.

  “It’s never just coffee.”

  “Whatever you say. I’m going to double the wards on us before he gets here.” Sammy padded out of the room, likely to place a shield around the entire house. I’d gotten used to his role as my familiar, but sometimes his devotion was on the edge of paranoia.

  Still, I did appreciate the effort, and it did make me feel a little better, so once Maggie was done staring at her house from across the way, we joined Lucy in the living room.

  I was about to sit down on the sofa when she looked at me and said, “Have I taught you nothing?”

  What were we referring to exactly? “I’m sorry?”

  “A wine stain, Astrid?” She gestured to the dark stain on the floor from one of the first times I’d decided to get a bit too tipsy after a long night of working at Every Last Crumb.

  “It was red wine. I’m not going to redo the entire floor because of a stain.” The only people who’d ever seen it were Maggie, Kat, and possibly a few others. It wasn’t a big deal.

  “It shouldn’t be there,” she said, her hands shaking as she walked into the kitchen.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “Going to find the cleaner.”

  “Seriously? Right now?”

  “It should’ve been handled before.” A cabinet opened and closed, followed by a frustrated growl when she reentered the room with nothing more than a rag and her own two hands.

  “What? I haven’t lived here in over a month.”

  “You’re never going to sell this place with that attitude.”

  “If I sell it,” I told her.

  “Don’t be silly, of course you are. You sold your childhood home, then you ran. You’ll sell this one as well because that’s what you do.”

  “Because my aunt wasn’t any help,” I said, ripping the rag from her hands. “You think I wanted that responsibility? I was thirty years old!”

  A knock on the front door kept me from saying anything else, and when I opened it, Lance frowned at me.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, presenting me with a cup of coffee he’d bought at The Laughing Bean.

  “It’s fine.” I set the rag on the end table inside the door and took the cup from his hands. “We’re arguing over the stain in my living room.”

  “The wine?” He smiled, then followed after me, settling on the sofa in the same spot I usually sat.

  I took my place in the recliner on the opposite side of the room, taking a breath as the cup of coffee warmed my hands. “And about me selling the place.”

  He nodded, then as though a switch had turned on, he removed a pen and pad of paper from his jacket before speaking again. “About this morning… I need you to start at the beginning. Where’s Maggie?”

  I hadn’t realized she’d gone, but she was nowhere to be found. “She probably vanished once Lucy and I started.”

  “But we need her here,” he insisted, sitting on the edge of the couch as he studied the pile of books on the table in front of him. “How is your table still standing?”

  “I asked the books not to break it. As for Maggie, I'm not sure we’ll need her after all. The books write back.”

  As if to challenge my theory, Lance set his own coffee on the table and cracked open the spine to the book on top, his brow furrowing above his brown eyes. Not seeing anything, he adjusted his glasses, but whatever he hoped to see wasn’t there.

  “You think this is funny?”

  “No, I saw something, I swear,” I told him.

  “Then it looks like you’ll be our mediator after all.”

  He sounded as excited about it as I was, especially since it would mean more one-on-one time with Lance without needing anyone else in the room. May as well get started, I decided, half-expecting to hear something from Sammy. Instead, he was as absent as Maggie, and once Lance and I were done going over what had happened this morning, Lucy excused herself as well.

  “I won’t say I’m pleased having to go through this with you again,” Lance said, looking from me to the books, “but it would seem you’re connected with these items. Care to tell me why?”

  I shrugged, then joined him, turning the first handful pages of the book only to find they were blank. “How come magic never works when it’s supposed to?”

  Lance released a soft chuckle. “Because, like it or not, it has a mind of its own. So, how did the books work, exactly?”

  “Back in Morpheus’ shop, they appeared out of nowhere as I was trying to sit down. Then, when I asked them not to break my table, they promised not to. The top one did, anyway. I can’t seem to separate them.”

  “They’re all one book,” Lance explained, filing through their pages. “T
he book has an illusion on it, and if it’s answering you, then that means it isn’t a book at all.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Not what, who.”

  “Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Who is it?”

  “Morpheus.”

  I didn’t speak for a long moment. How could a person, let alone a troll, be a book? Illusions were one thing, but what in the world was this?

  “I’m sorry?” I asked Lance.

  “I keep needing to remind myself you’re still new to magic,” Lance admitted, wearing a sheepish grin on his face. “What first appeared to be a banishing spell was actually an elaborate illusion. It all fits, actually. Once I finished checking the scene, I started to have my suspicions. The burn mark on the floor is blurred.”

  “I noticed, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. What about the residue on your gloves?”

  “Dirt and a touch of women’s concealer according to the slides I looked at.” He shrugged. “I might not know the reason why Morpheus wanted us to think he was banished, but it’s clear to me he wouldn’t have done so without a very good reason. Isn’t that right, Morpheus?” Lance was talking to the books, and what was worse, the silly things wrote back.

  “He said yes,” I told Lance, realizing he couldn’t see anything on the page.

  He sat back and scrubbed his face, the worry lines above his eyes more prominent than before. “What we’re dealing with here is a Canundrum.”

  “You mean a conundrum, right?”

  “No. A Canundrum is a trinket used to imprison someone at the most critical of times. In this case, he must’ve done so to protect himself and only made himself known when the right opportunity arrived.”

  “Meaning me.”

  “Yes. Whatever his reasons for using such a powerful and risky spell, Morpheus isn’t banished, he’s in hiding.”

  “Okay, so how do we get him out?”

  “Ask the right questions and find out what who he was hiding from. Trolls aren’t easily scared, so whatever has troubled him enough to go to such lengths, we should fear it as well.”

  “Great. All of this because Lucy wanted to get me on a broomstick.”

  “Yes, well if you hadn’t come along when you did, the Canundrum never would’ve left Fairmount Square. I’m not sure why magic continues to pull us together like this, but there must be a reason for it, starting with your lessons.”

  “Lessons? I thought they were trials.”

  “Morpheus’ trials, yes, but there is still a lot to learn before you get there.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Find out what Morpheus has to say. If he hid himself and only appeared for you, whatever he has to say is private and not meant for anyone else.”

  “Wait, you’re leaving?” I watched him stand, placing the pad of paper and pen back in his pocket. “This is an open investigation.”

  “And one I know we can’t close until he says all he has to say. I’m no help here as I can’t see what he writes.”

  “But you might have the right questions.” I didn’t even know where to start.

  “Start simple and work your way up, and keep him here. No sense endangering Maggie’s home or anyone else.”

  “But it’s okay for me to be in danger?”

  “He won’t hurt you, but I can’t say the same for myself or anyone else. For now, you’re on your own.”

  Before I could say anything else, Lance stepped away and opened the front door. He lingered a moment more, then excused himself and headed back into town.

  “So he just left you here alone with the book?” Sammy asked, hopping onto my bed once Lucy and Maggie had gone.

  Getting Lucy to leave was a lot harder than it sounds, but once I explained Lance’s reasoning, she invited herself over to Maggie’s where Maggie was probably possessing Ginger to have a more personal conversation with her. As for them caching up with one another, I couldn’t be bothered. As much as I would’ve loved to listen to them reminisce about their college days, I clearly had more important things on my plate, including Sammy’s strong emotions that kept warring with my own and the Canundrum which had since gone quiet after Lance’s quick departure.

  “He said Morpheus picked me for a reason,” I explained, opening the book for what felt like the hundredth time, only for the front over to close on my fingers again.

  “Looks like he’s having a temper tantrum,” Sammy said, batting at the cover.

  I had to agree with him there. “Morpheus, it’s me and Sammy. Could you at least let me know if you’re safe?”

  The front cover opened.

  YES, the Canundrum replied.

  “Are you able to talk right now?”

  NO.

  Okay, never mind. Looking to Sammy, I spoke to him mind-to-mind, figuring Morpheus, the Canundrum or whatever it was wouldn’t overhear. “If someone places themselves in a Canundrum, are they alone?”

  “Not always,” came Sammy’s reply, his anxiety making my stomach turn.

  “Can you not do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Share your emotions. It’s making me sick.”

  “You feel that?”

  How could I not? The vibes he was sending in my direction were enough to make me hurl. “So you aren’t doing it on purpose?”

  “No.”

  Why does this always happen to me? Why couldn’t the magic in this town behave? I either had to deal with Maggie’s possession of Sammy and Ginger, Kat turning into a fox, a sleepshifting dragon with an agenda, or a book with a lot on its mind, not to mention Lance breathing down my neck. He’d already sent me three texts since he left asking about progress, of which there was none. Once Lucy realized I wasn’t going back to Maggie’s for the night, she brought my phone over for me and demanded a text every hour to make sure I was still alive. Her words, not mine.

  The way the two of them were acting, I had to wonder if this was all an elaborate test. Maggie and Lucy had told me about their trials, so maybe this was one of them?

  “Is this a test?” I asked Morpheus, but he never answered. “Is someone in there with you?”

  NO.

  “Is someone watching you?”

  YES.

  My heart dipped into my stomach and my blood ran cold.

  That time, Sammy felt it. “This isn’t right. We shouldn’t be able to sense each other’s emotions. It clouds our judgment.”

  “What do you want me to do, Sam? I can’t not feel things.” Well, I could, but getting drunk or using opiates didn’t sound like the best of ideas. The few times I drank, I went from tipsy to oblivious in a matter of minutes. It was the reason why there was a stain on the living room floor and why it was still there as a reminder to never, ever have more than half a glass of wine ever again. I wasn’t a lightweight. I had no tolerance for alcohol at all.

  “It was charmed,” Sammy said, reading my thoughts.

  “What?”

  “The wine you had was charmed, remember?”

  Maggie had a habit of charming me so I’d only see and hear what she wanted me to. This was before I knew Emberdale had magic in it, let alone I was a witch.

  “Charming alcohol?”

  “It was all you’d drink,” Maggie cut in, hovering over to my side of the bed. “You were so upset about your parents, I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “I don’t remember that,” I said, shoving the Canundrum to the side.

  “You slept it off.”

  “Maggie, you can’t sleep off grief.” Even in her semi-afterlife, Maggie was ruining what I could remember of my past.

  “Your emotions would’ve fought off my charms. I had to.”

  This again? “I need you to leave.” I hated to send her away, but I couldn’t take another person messing with my head right now. “Please.”

  “Lucy is—”

  “Maggie, not right now. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

  Maggie nodded, reached out to touch me, then left withou
t the ability to do so. It was how she said goodnight ever since her funeral. Without being able to touch her, we’d resorted to near-touches. Unless she was possessing Ginger, of course, which at that moment, I would’ve preferred. Turning her away made me feel far worse than sensing Sammy’s emotions, but then, his were piling on top of my own.

  “There’s no way you can stop doing that?” I asked him again, bowing my head once I realized I’d snapped. “Sorry.”

  “No,” he said, nuzzling my hand so I’d pet him.

  “Maybe it’s best if we go to sleep. Things will be better in the morning.”

  Funnily enough, I sounded so convincing, I almost fooled myself, but as soon as I turned down the covers and moved the Canundrum onto my nightstand, I knew tomorrow would be far worse.

  If Morpheus felt the need to hide himself, then chances are, someone was out there right now looking for him.

  Turning off the light, I said, “You doubled the wards?”

  “Tripled,” Sammy purred, “and I can do one more after I’ve had some rest.”

  “Good, because I think we’re going to need it.”

  Chapter Five

  “You’re rearranging my books again?” Kat asked, walking up from the back office as I placed the Canundrum on the floor beside the register. Her smile quickly vanished, however, once she realized the books didn’t come from her store. “A competitor? You got books from someone else? And don’t tell me they’re a gift, because—”

  “They’re not. I didn’t go to another store, Kat. It’s… Lance called them a Canundrum.”

  She frowned, then stepped behind the front desk for something I couldn’t see. Leave it to Kat to have a book on just about anything. The amount of stuff she knew about witches and magic could fill an entire library. A very big library.

  Flipping through the pages of one book, she set it aside and scanned through the pages of another until she found what she was looking for. “I knew I’d read about these before.” Then, reciting what appeared to be a magic dictionary’s definition, she said, “A Canundrum is a magical talisman that can take on any form to match its surroundings. When used, the Canundrum protects those locked inside and can be reversed by speaking the correct name.”