Poetry in Potion, page 8
part #5 of Spellbound Ever After Series
“I think everyone’s here,” Meg said, in an attempt to divert Limpet’s attention.
“As they should be,” Marjory said and marched into the classroom.
I slid into a chair beside Millie and nearly tipped backward thanks to my screwy equilibrium. Millie grabbed the back of the chair and steadied me before I could fall.
“Try to sit still during the lesson,” Millie hissed. “I don’t want to miss anything. It’s distracting when you jiggle.”
“Okay, but you know I’ll need a bathroom break.”
Millie huffed. “What if you didn’t drink before you came to class?”
“Then that would be bad for me as well as the baby. I have to stay hydrated.”
“This baby is so high maintenance and it isn’t even born yet,” Millie said.
Marjory tapped her wand on the edge of the desk and fixated on us. “I know you’re the Voice of the Coven, Millie, but that doesn’t mean we’re meant to hear it on an endless loop. Are you quite finished?”
Millie’s cheeks flamed and she sank against the back of her chair. “Yes, High Priestess.”
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“Today’s lesson will cover symbols,” Marjory said. “It isn’t straightforward magic like many of your classes are, but you’ll find the knowledge of symbols to be useful in many aspects of the craft.”
Avery’s hand shot up—because of course it did. “How do you use symbols in everyday life?”
“I’m not sure that you do,” Marjory replied. “It isn’t algebra.”
I blinked at Millie. “Do we use algebra in everyday life?”
“I bet Laurel does,” Millie whispered. “It’s probably a form of meditation for her.”
“Meg has kindly agreed to assist me today as we explore a few of the more common symbols you may encounter,” Marjory said. “Now remember, we’re only going to scratch the surface today. There are countless symbols and we can’t possibly cover them all, even if we spent between now and the end of the academy year on this single topic.”
“That’s a lot of symbols,” I murmured.
“What’s the symbol for boring?” someone whispered behind us.
“There are plenty of books in the library should you wish to further your studies in this area,” Marjory continued. She angled her head toward Meg. “You may conjure the first symbol now.”
Meg aimed her wand at the empty space at the front of the classroom and performed a spell. A double-headed eagle appeared out of thin air and everyone gasped. The bird hovered, flapping its wings, and each head looked in a different direction.
“Can anyone tell me its meaning?” Marjory asked.
Laurel and Avery both waved their hands in the air at the same time. Marjory skimmed right over them and pointed her wand at Begonia.
“Miss Spence,” Marjory said. “What say you?”
“Me say nothing,” Begonia said. “I didn’t raise my hand.”
“If you had to hazard a guess,” Marjory said. “What might you deduce?”
“I’m sure the two heads are significant,” Begonia said. “The eagle can see a lot more all at once with two heads.”
“Good, good,” Marjory said encouragingly. “And what might you conclude from that?”
“That the eagle is nosy?” Begonia offered.
Marjory pointed her wand at Avery. “Go on then. I can see you practically frothing at the mouth to answer.”
Avery swished her cornsilk hair over her shoulder. “It means omniscience and, sometimes, absolute power.”
“A personal favorite, no doubt,” Millie said under her breath.
“Well done,” the High Priestess said.
“Next example, Ginger,” Marjory said.
“It’s Meg,” the redhead replied.
Marjory’s head jerked toward her as though seeing her assistant for the first time. “Oh, yes. Of course. Meg. Ginger is the pretty one, isn’t she?”
Meg’s expression tensed, but she was a trooper and performed the next spell without complaint. A smaller bird appeared with green wings, a white breast, and a black strip along the center of its head.
“Can anyone identify this bird?” Marjory asked. “This is rather a good one. If you see this bird as a symbol, you need to sit up and pay attention.”
Laurel’s was the only hand in the air. Marjory waited a long beat before calling on her.
“It’s a lapwing,” Laurel said. “It’s known for its sorrowful wail.”
“And how does that help us in terms of understanding a symbol?” the High Priestess asked. “You might only see the bird and not hear it.”
Laurel seemed temporarily stumped.
“It symbolizes a hidden secret,” Marjory continued. “Make a note of that one, coven. If you see a lapwing in a dream or in a crystal ball, you need to be on your guard. Hidden secrets generally aren’t harmless ones. They’re hidden for a reason.”
“Calling something a hidden secret is redundant,” Millie whispered. “If it’s a secret, the hidden part is implied.”
“I’ll let you split those hairs with Limpet,” I said.
I watched as half the room scribbled notes in their books. I was too worried about a hand cramp to bother. My muscles and organs were out of control at this point. The moment the thought hit my brain, it was as though I triggered an assault on my body.
“Leg cramp,” I yelled, and launched myself from the chair. I hopped around the aisle on one foot, my face scrunched in pain. I wanted to walk it off, but I couldn’t put my foot flat on the floor. Too painful.
“Emma, is there anything I can do?” Millie asked.
“Rub it?” I suggested, wincing.
Millie pondered the answer. “Anything else?”
Marjory aimed her wand at me and I worried that she was about to zap my other leg to make me forget the pain of the first one. That seemed to be the way she approached problems. Instead, I felt the calf muscle relax and was able to return to my seat, where I slumped so much that I nearly slid to the floor in a gooey marshmallow puddle.
“Nothing a relaxation spell can’t fix,” Marjory said with a note of pride.
“I think she’s a little too relaxed,” Millie commented.
Millie was right. I could hardly control my body. My limbs felt like spaghetti. Throw a pair of dark sunglasses on me and it was Weekend at Bernie’s time.
Marjory leveled a gaze at me. “Now that you’ve disrupted the class, Ms. Hart, I suppose it’s only fitting that you identify the next symbol.”
Terrific. It would be probably be some type of flower I’d never set eyes on before. I pulled myself back into a normal seated position and waited.
Meg extended her wand and performed the spell under her breath so as not to give away the answer. A tall, flowering plant appeared, at least five feet in height, with red flower heads draped over the leaves. I had no idea and my calf still throbbed, further distracting my brain.
“Well, Ms. Hart?” Marjory prompted.
“It means you need to deadhead your garden,” I said.
The High Priestess sniffed. “This is a symbolism lesson, not a gardening lesson. Use your brain, please.”
“I can’t,” I said. “All the oxygen seems to have gone to my uterus.”
“You’re not the first female to ever give birth, you know,” Marjory said. “Even I managed to do so without this level of histrionics.”
“I can’t help it if my muscles cramp,” I said, but my words were slightly slurred thanks to the relaxation spell and saliva dripped out of the side of my mouth. Very attractive. I couldn’t wait to go home to Daniel.
“Can anyone name the flower?” Marjory asked.
Millie raised her hand. “Amaranth, otherwise known as Love-Lies-Bleeding.”
“Very good,” Marjory said. “And do you know what its image represents?”
“A vampire warning?” Millie guessed.
“Not quite, though you’re on the right track,” Marjory said. “Anyone else?”
Laurel wiggled her fingers in the air. “Immortality.”
“That is correct. If you encounter this, it signifies immortality and healing powers.”
“I wouldn’t have even guessed vampires,” I mumbled.
“At least you’re relaxed,” Millie said.
I cringed. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong now?” she hissed.
Sweet gods above. Why me? “You’re right,” I said. “I’m too relaxed.”
“Just sit up and you’ll be fine,” Millie said. “I can prop you up if your body is too slack.”
“It’s not my body,” I said slowly. “It’s my bladder.”
Millie groaned. “Then go to the bathroom.”
I cleared my throat, mortified. “Apparently, I already did.”
I hovered in front of the stall, admiring the unique selection of toys. For a moment, I forgot all about the reason I was really here and began eyeing each toy as a possible gift for the baby. I had to be careful because even some of the most innocuous toys were magical and I had no idea what could happen. I didn’t want to take risks when it came to the baby.
“Good afternoon, ma’am.” The elf turned in the stall to greet me. “Welcome to Zapf’s Toys. Roy Zapf at your service.” He was taller than the average elf with extra pointy ears and a goatee on his narrow chin.
“Hi, Roy. I’m Emma.”
“Everything you see is handmade by me,” the elf said. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“A gift for my baby,” I said. “Do you have anything appropriate for an infant?”
His eyes twinkled. “Look no further,” he said. “I have an entire section dedicated to infant toys.” He gestured toward an area on the other side of the stall, so I rounded the corner for a closer look.
“This cuckoo clock is one-of-a-kind,” Roy said. “Every hour on the hour, the bird flies out and tickles the baby’s tummy before flying back into the clock.”
I frowned at the adorable clock. “I like the concept, but what happens if the baby’s asleep? Won’t the bird wake up the baby?”
“Oh, you needn’t worry about that,” Roy said. “There’s a failsafe mechanism that stops the bird from tickle time if the baby’s sleeping. It detects breathing patterns and heart rhythms.”
My eyes widened. “Wow. That’s really impressive. What else have you got?”
The elf lifted a mermaid doll from the shelf. “This one’s called Your Mermaid Friend. You bring it into the tub and the mermaid comes to life and becomes your baby’s bathtime companion.”
“I’ll have to think about that one.” Too many memories of dolls like Chucky in Child’s Play. I didn’t want to worry about a mermaid coming to life and terrorizing our family. Then again, Magpie would take care of a demonic mermaid with one lethal breath.
“You might consider this box. I’ve designed it so that it’s completely child friendly. No small bits and nearly indestructible. If your baby tosses it out of the crib during a temper tantrum, it won’t break.”
Roy set the box closer to me. The exterior was a pale blue-green color that complemented the shiny crib.
“I call it the Beacon.”
My breathing hitched. When Daniel and I had visited Starry Hollow, I’d gone to see Veronica, one of the local seers. She’d proclaimed that our baby was a beacon—of what, I had no idea, but the coincidence was too strong to ignore.
“Why would you give it a name like that?” I asked.
Roy smiled. “I’ll show you.” He called to the neighboring stall. “A little help, Gloria.”
The fairy gave him a thumbs up and conjured a spell with her wand. In an instant, the toymaker’s stall was steeped in darkness, as though the sun had been blotted out only within this confined space. Roy opened the box and I gasped.
Light emanated from the box, showing constellations all around us. Chills spread throughout my body as I identified Ursa Minor and Little Dipper.
“This is amazing,” I said. “I’ll take it.”
Roy closed the box, swallowing the stars. The darkness receded, but I continued to stand there, dumbstruck. The Beacon was meant for this baby. I was sure of it.
“You have wonderful taste,” Roy said.
I watched as he carefully wrapped the present and placed it in a decorative bag. My first gift for the baby. I couldn’t believe it. Very soon, this kicking, fussing peanut inside me was going to be walking the earth independent of me. It seemed surreal.
“Is there anything else I can help you with today?” Roy asked.
“As a matter of fact there is,” I said. “I’d like to ask you about Claire Cronk.”
He blanched. “I heard about her death. Such a shame.”
I cocked my head. “Is it, though? From what I understand, you and Claire weren’t on friendly terms.”
He scowled. “Can you blame me? She had the gall to come here and break one of my best and most expensive toys and then accuse me of faulty craftsmanship. I take great pride in my work.”
I clutched the gift bag to my chest. “Yes, I can see that. Did she actually purchase the item or was she just looking at it?”
“She bought it and left with it. Half an hour later she came thumping down the aisle, yelling. I swear there were fumes coming out of her ears. She dumped the broken toy on my counter and proceeded to humiliate me in front of the entire market.”
“Do you still have it?”
Roy reached inside the stall and placed the item on the counter. It was a gingerbread house replica, but several of the candy pieces were scattered on the cloth around it. The details were exquisite with candy cane arches and a gumdrop fence.
“This is beautiful, Roy,” I said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“You haven’t even seen the best part,” he said. “The house doesn’t fully form until the owner wills it. The candy is specific to the individual. If you don’t like gumdrops, there won’t be any. If sugarplums are your favorite, they’ll be an intricate part of the façade. I don’t know what Claire did with it between here and her own stall, but this was not the result of shoddy workmanship. This piece was a labor of love.”
“And I guess because it’s unique to the individual, you can’t resell it,” I said.
“Not for the same value,” Roy said. “I can fix the broken pieces and sell it as a standard gingerbread house, but that’s not quite the same thing.”
“Why can’t you make another one?” I asked.
“I can, but it will take me quite some time. This was very tricky because of the detailed magic involved. I’m an elf, so magic comes at a price for me.” He inclined his head toward Gloria. “I also travel from market to market, so I try to sell off all the pieces I have before I make more.”
“So Claire demanded her money back?”
Roy whistled. “In spectacular fashion, yes. She refused to take no for an answer and made such a fuss that I was practically in tears by the time she left. I know I lost several sales that day because shoppers who didn’t know any better heard her complaints and assumed that she was in the right.”
“You must’ve been really upset about what she did,” I said. “Not only did she break your most valuable item and get her money back, but she publicly humiliated you and chased away other business.”
Roy’s cheeks grew flushed at the memory. “I hardly slept that night. Usually I sleep with no trouble when I travel, but I tossed and turned. I couldn’t stop thinking about that monster.”
“So you decided to do something about it?”
He looked at me, my question taking a moment to register. “Oh no. You don’t think that I…? I would never kill someone, not for any reason. I don’t support capital punishment. Don’t even like the idea of vampires if I’m being completely honest. They’re basically the walking dead.” He shuddered.
“I think those are technically zombies.” I lowered my voice, not wanting to be overheard. “Would you mind telling me where you were on the morning she died?”
“I was here, of course, setting up my stall like I do every day of the market. It takes ages to set out each and every toy. I try to position them in an appealing way to attract buyers. I don’t just toss them up higgledy piggledy like some stalls.”
“And did you see Claire at all that morning?”
He shook his head vigorously. “No, I made sure to avoid her. I didn’t want to risk a chance encounter, so I even came in the back way.”
“Were there any witnesses who saw you here?”
He jerked his head toward Gloria. “We came in together. We’re both staying at the same B&B. I didn’t leave my stall that day until after lunch because I was so busy.”
I glanced over at Gloria, who nodded. “We were both starving but didn’t want to leave until the crowd thinned,” she added.
“We heard the commotion by the Cronks’ stall that morning, but we didn’t even go to check it out because it meant abandoning our posts. My treasures are far too valuable to leave unattended.”
“Thanks, Roy,” I said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Roy said. “I design toys that spread love and light because that’s how I try to live my life.”
I squeezed the handle of the gift bag. “Same, Roy. Same.”
Chapter Ten
I sat in Louisa’s cell in a wheelchair that Astrid had rolled down for me. It was better than the hard metal chairs that meant a guaranteed butt cramp.
“You don’t think Roy or Horatio did it?” Louisa asked. Disappointment flickered in her eyes.
“I don’t, but I told Astrid about Horatio’s missing potion. She was able to identify what killed Claire, but she didn’t know he was the only one to stock it.”
“There’s always a chance it came from another source, though, right?” Louisa sat on a bench with her knees drawn to her chest. Her eyes were rimmed with pink and accented by dark circles.
“It’s possible, but the most likely answer is that someone knew about Horatio’s stock and stole it for the express purpose of using it to kill Claire.”
“And Horatio’s secret stock wasn’t so secret,” Louisa said. “I think everyone knew about it.”
