Evelina and the Reef Hag (10 page)

Flying was the best part of being a witch.

If she never learned anything else it was worth it to experience this.

Joy bubbled in her veins.

With the warmth of Frankie against her, the wind on her face, and the stars all around, her spirit soared.

She needed to learn how to fly.

Soon.

They came down like a rocket sucked to the Earth, landing on a deserted street not far from where the dune buggy was parked.

“How do you do that?” She gasped as the wind settled around them. She suspected she sounded naive and awestruck, but she couldn’t help it. It was amazing! “How do you fly? I need to know.”

“You’ll learn soon enough.” He chuckled. “It comes as you slowly gain your powers.”

Evelina groaned.

More smoke and mirrors.

Apparently witchcraft wasn’t an exact science. In fact, most of it was down- right frustrating. Everything seemed to hinge on some mysterious innate skills, that you might discover or you might not. She wanted to know now, not when she was so long in the tooth she croaked from a heart attack trying.

“When did you learn?”

“Training begins when you’re an apprentice.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “But witches master the skill at different times. It’s best to learn from an expert.”

“What about the popping thing?”

He raised a quizzical brow.

“You know, when you just appear out of thin air. Now we see you—now we don’t.”

He flashed a heart-stopping smile, causing her belly to flutter. “You’re not ready for that yet.”

“Why not?” She wasn’t giving up that easy. “Who taught you?”

“Leviticus Wilkes. It’s a bit different for Time Keepers.”

Her recent meeting with Wilkes flashed through her brain. “So I hear.”

Frankie was betrothed.

He just hadn’t bothered to tell her.

“What does that mean?” He sent her a queer look.

“Nothing.” She shrugged away, disentangling herself from his arms. “Not a thing.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird all night. Are you angry or something?”

Angry didn’t half begin to describe it, but there was no sense getting into it. What good would it do? “Nope. I’m good.” She forced a bright smile. On the other hand curiosity was driving her wild. “But… I was wondering, why you didn’t mention you were betrothed?”

Frankie flashed a startled gaze, before his golden gaze became hooded again. “I thought you knew.”

A painful lump formed in her throat. “Nope.” If she had, she’d have kept her distance, or at least tried to. “No. I didn’t.”

“It’s just the way it is.” His voice turned flat and cold. “It’s tradition.”

A pain squeezed her chest. So it was true. She nodded vaguely, like a plastic
tiki
doll bobbing on a dashboard. “I understand.” Through the fog of numbness she managed to say, “Look, I’d better go.”

“Wait!” He reached for her hand.

But she’d already turned away, saying over her shoulder, “Thanks for your help tonight.”

Her limbs felt weighted and her mind cloudy as she trudged toward the dune buggy.

She drove home to the little pink beach house in a daze.

She was beat.

She’d lost her precious black pearl ring.

She’d flown up into the stars.

Then her guts had been ripped out.

It had been a long night.

The door of the cottage flung wide, before Evelina could reach for the knob.

“Just in time for some catnip tea!” Mrs. Segal crushed Evelina to her bosom before hustling her inside. Her cherry smile soon changed to a look of concern. “My! You look done in! I might need to dig up something stronger.”

Udora slashed Evelina a sidelong glance as she crumbled dried leaves into the silver teapot. She spoke in a quiet voice, as though they were the only two in the room. “You’ll be alright in the morning.”

***

“He’s here!”

“
Raskin
Lipworth
.”

“
Raskin
Lipworth
is here!”

The cove was abuzz with the news. The whispers mingled with the rush of the waterfall. Every witch at Camp
Wic
-A-Muck wondered if they would be questioned next.

“Oh my God!” Tally clutched Evelina’s arm. “Here he comes!”

“Wow.” Abby exclaimed. “Looks like he means business.”

He strode toward them, scattering the crowd like a belch of smoke through a rainbow.

Evelina took a step back, avoiding the light of the firefly chandelier, hoping to melt into the jungle.

The splash of the waterfall rushed in her ears.

“Evelina Crimm?”

She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“
Raskin
Lipworth
.” He made a crisp bow. “I have a few questions for you.”

“Sure,” she said as casually as possible, while being interrogated by a man who appeared sprung from a Dickens’ novel, complete with black frock coat and silver waistcoat. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything.” His grey eyes flashed in his pale face, leaving the rest a shadow, from the tip of his glossy boots to the point of his widow’s peak. He flipped open a small legal pad then clicked his shiny pen. “I must know all that happened the night of Melvin Ruggles’ death.”

“Okay.” She relayed the evening’s events with as much detail as she could, ending with, “That’s all I know.”

“Hmm…”
Lipworth’s
cool gaze slid up and down her. “And you maintain you did not know him.”

“No.”

“Very well.” He sent her a hard look. “Don’t go too far, Crimm. I may need to question you again.”

Evelina groaned.

When things turned bad, they turned bad fast—everything went south.

Well, he could question her all he liked. She didn’t know anything, though she was trying hard to find out. Best that he didn’t know that.
Lipworth
had the reputation of being a bit of a hard nose. He might not appreciate any interference in his investigation.

Evelina breathed a sigh of relief when
Lipworth
turned to go. Then, she remembered something—his connection to her parents. He was the chief investigator then. He might know something.

“Wait!” She reached out a hand to stall him.

He turned abruptly, with a glare so fierce she quickly released her grip on his arm. “Yes?”

“Sorry.” She took a step back. “But I was wondering if you knew my parents, Dylan and
Sirena
Crimm.”

“I did.” His features turned grave. “They died under suspicious circumstances.”

“Yes.” Evelina’s heart clutched, but she forced herself to ask, “I wondered what you could tell me about it?”

“Nothing,” he said flatly. “It is an ongoing investigation. I am not permitted to speak of it.”

“But you must know something? I’m their daughter, and you must be able to tell me something!”

His features softened, as though her wail of desperation cracked through the ice around his heart, then his face closed again. Or had she imagined it?

“I can tell you this,” he said in confidential tones. “If you don’t stay out of it, you’ll be next.”

A shiver raced up her back. “What?” Was that a threat? “What do you mean?”

 
“They know who you are,” he continued in a low voice. “And they know you’re curious, which makes you a threat.” His thin lips flattened. “They consider you dangerous.”

“Good,” she said with false bravado. “Because I won’t stop until I have answers.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of it. Let the professionals do their job.”

“It’s been twelve years!” Her voice rose in frustration. “And no one seems to know anything about this black market spell ring!”

“A very short time in witch years.” His tone turned patronizing. “Some day you’ll realize that.”

What she realized as he strode away was, if she wanted answers she’d have to find them herself.

At least she’d confirmed one thing—her parents were definitely investigating black market spells. That was something. She was on the right track.

She just had to dig a little deeper.

Despite
Raskin
Lipworth’s
warning.

And the cold chill running up her back.

Chapter Eight

Turns out practicing spells all night works up a powerful thirst.

But, not much more.

Evelina licked her dry lips, wishing she could say hours of instruction with their mentors in the clearing had sparked inspiration, but it hadn’t.

Oh, she’d learned several impressive incantations, the trouble was she’d yet to master them. She had to succeed before the night was through.

Exhibit ‘a’, the monstrous green blob of goo with two antennae at her feet, which was supposed to be a caterpillar.

She’d tried the basic creation spell at least ten times. This was as close as she’d got. Not very close.

Abby and Tally appeared to be struggling as well with mixed results. Abby’s was very small. Tally’s looked more like a worm. But, at least they looked like something.

Evelina circled her creation, rubbing her chin. She stopped and stared at it for a long moment. Something was missing. What was it?

She considered it again.

Focus.

Focus.

Voices echoed around the cove, as other novices attempted the same incantation.

Evelina raised her finger in the air. “Initio infra!”

Nothing.

She tried again. “Initio infra!”

The blob gave a loud belch.

Councillor Burble marched over to have a look. “More form and substance, please!” She carolled. “It’s all in the details.”

Evelina groaned as Burble hustled away.

What did that mean?

She felt as lost as she did before the lesson began.

Nebula Sludge sidled between them. “Is that yours, Crimm?” She sent forth a loud cackle. “Pathetic!”

Evelina’s cheeks flared.

Judy Cheetum trundled over. “What’s that?” She sneered. “Looks like slime.”

Suzie followed, sending forth a peal of splintering laughter. “More like dragon mucus!”

Anger welled in Evelina’s chest.

She turned hotter and hotter.

And then...

Something ignited deep inside of her.

Without thinking, she lifted her finger in the air and sketched the most beautiful caterpillar her imagination could conger.

And

Poof!

It appeared, with a mossy green rippling body covered in pink spots and crisp black antennae with red circles on top.

She swirled her finger again, round and round, as the caterpillar spun a frothy white cocoon, shot with silver thread around itself. It wiggled and writhed like a mummy having a seizure. Then, it burst from its silk covering as a spectacular butterfly, fluttering its emerald and gold wings like giant fans, rising up into the air. It flapped up into
Neblua
Sludge’s face landing on her nose, stuck out its tongue, made a loud raspberry, then flew away.

“Very amusing!” Sludge wiped the spittle from her face. “Next time, get it right the first time.” She turned to stalk away, throwing over her shoulder. “Back to work, Crimm!”

Evelina couldn’t help but smile.

The more she pondered it, the bigger her smile got.

She smiled and smiled for hours—the entire hike back to the tree fort, in fact, until fatigue took over and the euphoria melted away.

Trouble was, her mind wouldn’t stop.

She stretched out in her hammock, but couldn’t sleep. Frankie’s face kept popping into her head.

So he was betrothed.

The question was to whom.

***

 
Frankie sounded out of breath, like he’d sprinted a quarter mile. “You’re
awol
.”

“Yeah?” Evelina gave him a sidelong glance, but kept on walking. She didn’t have time to chat. She needed to get back to the island before she was found out. “So are you.”

“I need to talk to you.”

Evelina stopped short. She didn’t have much choice since he was blocking her path—and everyone else’s, for that matter. As usual, the
Old
City
was teaming with tourists. “Why?”

“Leviticus.”

“Oh?” She stepped around him and strode on.

Frankie caught up. “He said he came to see you.”

“Yup.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much.” She shrugged. “The usual. To stay away from you. You’re his prize pupil. You’re parents are concerned about your future, etc, etc.”

“I’m sorry.” A pained expression chased across Frankie’s face. “I meant to tell you.”

“No problem.” She ducked into a dress shop, hoping he’d get the message that she didn’t have time to chat. She needed to get to the tattoo parlor before it closed, then back to the island before she was missed. If that was possible. Psycho Sally kept weird hours. She’d already missed her several times.

Frankie strode in after her. “I really did mean to tell you.” He positioned himself opposite the rack of beach cover-ups she pretended to examine. “Leviticus means well. He just gets carried away some times.”

“It’s okay.” She attempted a bland look, while her heart clutched. “I get it.”

“It’s just…”

She met his gaze over the rack. “Awkward?”

“Yeah.”

“No problem.” Had she already said that? She’d already said that. Her throat tightened. “Well, I’ve got to go,” she gushed at last. “I’ve got to make a few more stops before they close up shop.”

“I’ll go with you.” He made to follow her.

“No.” She held up a hand. She didn’t want to risk scaring Sally off. “I’d better go alone.” When he opened his mouth again, she hastily added. “It’s girl stuff. I don’t want to bore you.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I’ll see ya then.”

“Yeah.” She gave a wave, watching him stride for the door.

As soon as the door closed she made for the exit at the other end of the shop. She had to meet Kamaria at the beach house in an hour.

She needed that ring.

She sucked in a long, shuddering breath, threading her way through the crowd.

She’d expected to feel better after she got that off her chest.

But she didn’t.

If anything, she felt worse.

It was tough to cut him loose, but he belonged to someone else.

What else could she do?

It was for the best.

The closed sign on the tattoo parlor door brought Evelina up short.

Another sign swung inside the door under it, ‘Call again tomorrow’.

Tomorrow!

She couldn’t wait that long. The trail of the ring was getting cold. She had to find it.

Evelina pressed her face to the glass.

The place was still, save the dark corners, where shadows appeared to shift and move.

Strange.

It was the middle of the day. The
Old
City
bustled with tourists. There must have been some crazy emergency to turn away so many customers.

She paced in front of the plate-glass window.

Then, pressed her face to the door again.

The door flung wide, sending her stumbling forward.

A boney hand clutched her forearm halting her progress.

Evelina sucked in a sharp gasp as her startled glance met the bug-eyed gaze of Psycho Sally.

“Come in! Come in!” She sounded frightened, if not slightly unhinged as she pulled Evelina inside. “Hurry!”

The door slammed shut.

“You look familiar,” she said, wringing her hands. “What do you want? Do I know you?”

“You saw me at the pier. Remember?”

“Did I?” She gave a nervous laugh, glancing over her shoulder. “My short-term memory isn’t that good these days.”

“I bumped into your table.”

“Really?” Psycho Sally put a trembling hand to her temple. “I don’t quite remember. It’s all a bit fuzzy.” She skittered to the right of the door to flick on the lights.

The gloom transformed in an instant to lollipop shades of pink, purple and blue. The shop had the look of a vintage beauty parlour, with pink chairs and gold mirrors on one side and a tiffany blue counter with a silver cash register on the other. Frothy grape curtains ballooned against the tall windows facing the street.

It smelled of tea and spice and peroxide.

“You were reading someone’s tea leaves,” Evelina said. “A young man.”

“Was I?” Psycho Sally crossed her arms under her breasts, then uncrossed them again. “Oh dear! That doesn’t sound good. Are you certain?”

“Yes. Why? What do you mean?”

“A warlock’s been killed.” Sally chewed on her bottom lip. “I do hope he wasn’t the one.” The shock must have registered on Evelina’s face. Psycho Sally let fly a peal of brittle laughter. “Do you believe in witches?”

Evelina shrugged. She didn’t know this woman. It would be a mistake to trust her with secrets.

“I do. I was married to one. For twenty years.” Her gaze shifted north. “Still am. They never really die.”

“You were married to a warlock?” Evelina repeated stupidly.

Sally nodded slowly, causing her shiny black hair to swing. “St. Augusta is a hotspot for them, you know.” She hustled to the counter, flinging over her shoulder. “It’s rare for a warlock to marry a mortal, but it happens.”

“I didn’t know that.”

 
“I need a cup of tea.” She moved toward the back counter. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“No, thank you.” Evelina shifted her gaze around the shop, making sure they were alone. “I came hoping you could help me.”

Sally plugged in the chrome kettle with shaking fingers, then spun around. “You might even be one.” Her gaze slid up and down Evelina. “Or perhaps not, in which case, I shouldn’t be divulging any of this.” She gave a shrill twitter. “But, never mind that. How can I help you?”

“I dropped my ring by your table. At least, it was the last place I saw it. I was hoping you found it.” Evelina swallowed hard. “It was my grandmother’s. It means a lot to me.”

“Hmm…not that I know of.” Her brow puckered. “Of course, I don’t seem to remember much about it.”

Evelina attempted to hide her disappointment.

The kettle gave a shrill whistle.

Psycho Sally turned to make her tea.

Evelina glanced at her watch. Half an hour ‘til pumpkin time. “It’s a black pearl ring. It was on a chain.”