Midsummer Night's Mayhem (14 page)

Gasps filled the room. Clover grabbed Felicity’s arm. She couldn’t believe it. Only a rare few had successfully navigated the labyrinth and never on the first try. That’s what made the maze so legendary—solving it was an almost impossible task.

Austin’s confidence radiated. He knew this, too. Honestly, even the love of Oliver’s life might not know how to navigate the magical maze, but Austin had made a convincing case for the test. No one would object.

“I agree with Austin. We will follow Oliver’s last request,” his lawyer said. “Legally, it’s the only fair solution other than rendering the will null and void and going back to the original will, leaving the estate to Austin. But I must try my best to honor Oliver’s wishes, so we’ll try this one last option.”

“But what if more than one witch navigates the maze?” someone in the back asked.

Austin scoffed. “I’d be surprised if anyone can navigate the maze. We all know that only a handful have made it through over the years, very few.”

“We will cross that bridge when we come to it,” Wilford said, clearly agreeing with Austin.

“When will this take place?” Dovy asked, her face a pale shade of powdery white.

“There will be a midnight vigil tonight for Oliver in the town square, so I am giving us all time to attend and we will need time to prepare the labyrinth. I think that in two days’ time—the day after tomorrow at noon—we will begin the attempts. If you would still like to claim the inheritance and feel worthy of the task, please report to the Yearling estate at that time to attempt the magical labyrinth. See you all then and good day.” Wilford and Austin filed out of the room, leaving the crowd of witches shocked.

Clover couldn’t believe this was happening. “What do you think?” Clover asked, turning to Felicity. “Is Austin right? Did his father share his knowledge of the labyrinth with you?”

Felicity’s expression was unreadable. “Oliver showed me some of the magical spellcraft, but he was always working on it, perfecting the magic, making it harder and yet more alluring.” She bit her bottom lip. “He was obsessed with it, constantly tinkering with that thing, crafting new spells up until his death.”

“But can you navigate it? Can you make it through?” Clover asked. This was the real question and a shiver of excitement went up her spine—the test of true love. Was Oliver testing her, too? It was an interesting thought.

“I’m going to have to. I’m not giving up. If I have to navigate the labyrinth to prove my relationship was real, then I’ll do it and prove myself worthy of Oliver’s love. Austin’s not going to stop me.”

Clover wasn’t sure what to think, but she knew one thing: navigating the labyrinth was much easier said than done.

15

W
hen Clover walked up her porch steps, a whiff of lemon caught her attention. The stain was gone, the wood surface gleaming, the black magic reduced to a bad dream. She’d had every intention of making dinner, but when she got home Derek had beaten her to it. Hot loaves of freshly baked bread lined the counter. Copper pots bubbled on the stove. Derek’s wand was raised, zipping off spells in a cooking frenzy.

“Wow. You’re like a chef possessed,” she said, not surprised he hadn’t gone home after Juniper had packed up and left.

“It relaxes me. I’m in a groove.” He barely took his eyes off the concoctions.

“Thanks for working your magic on the porch. I was relieved to see it cleaned up when I got home.” She patted his back. “When this is all over, I want to do a purification spell on the house and yard.”

“No problem. I needed to keep busy. It’s been tough.” His brow creased. “I don’t know what we’re going to do about tomorrow.”

Clover kicked off her shoes and poured herself a glass of iced tea. “There’s nothing we can do. The sheriff did me a favor in not serving the warrant right away. Maybe I should have let him do it and avoided the stress. Now I don’t have a choice. It’s over.”

“It’s not over. Not if you don’t want it to be,” he said cryptically.

“There’s nothing we can do. Juniper’s coming tomorrow, and I haven’t found out enough about Oliver Yearling’s murder or suicide or whatever happened to him to stop her. She’s going to find out I’m Cassandra Reason, and then she’ll hopefully keep my secret and it won’t get out. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.” Clover watched a creamy sauce swirling in one of the pots. “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

Derek whipped his wand around and dishes and cutlery flew into action, ladling up sauce and pasta, serving up salad, and setting the table. Clover dodged a fork and took a seat.

“I have to worry for both of us. Part of me wants everyone to know about you so that you get the credit you deserve, but at the same time I don’t want things to change. I don’t want us to lose what we have.” He plopped down in the chair opposite her.

“No matter what happens we won’t. We’re a team. Don’t forget that.”

His face was drawn and serious.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

But before he answered the question, she realized the death of Oliver must be a sad reminder of his parents’ passing. Witches and wizards were not immortal, and though they typically lived long lives, that wasn’t always the case. Both of Derek’s parents had died tragically in a hovercraft crash while he’d been studying at Haven Academy. He’d taken the news hard, dropped out of school, and ended up wandering Everland with a backpack, a wand, and little hope.

Clover had met Derek one day at Goodspells Grimoire where he was unloading a shipment of books in the storeroom. Bear had taken pity on the young lost wizard and given him a few pieces of gold to help organize the large orders. Clover had gone to the bookstore to ask Bear to read her first novel but chickened out, still clutching the roll of parchment under her arm without showing it to him. She had gone in the back, at Bear’s request, to grab a couple of books he’d put aside for her and found Derek reclining between two stacks of books, reading a novel.

“Hey, sorry to disturb you. I was just looking for some books on hold.” Seeing them, she reached up and grabbed the books from the shelf. “Does Bear know you like to read on the job?” she asked.

“He doesn’t mind as long as I get all the books loaded onto the shelves before I leave. It helps to have a boss with a laid-back attitude and a bad back.” Motioning to the parchment roll in her arms, he asked, “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” Her cheeks blushed and she shifted her weight.

“Really? Doesn’t seem like nothing to me.” He leaned up, closing the book he’d been reading.

“It’s a project I’m working on. It’s no big deal.” She blew a curl out of her face.

“I won’t tell anyone about it, if you’re shy.”

“I’m not shy, just protective. If you really want to know, it’s a novel,” she said. “I’ve been working on it and wanted to get some feedback. But I changed my mind.”

“Hoping to get some advice from the
reader of all
.” He smiled, referencing Bear, who was arguably the best-read wizard in all of Willow Realm.

“He’s probably too busy,” she said. “And it’s not like it’s great literature or anything. I shouldn’t waste his time.”

“I’ll take a look at it.” He crawled to his feet.

“I don’t know. What kinds of books do you like?”

“Good ones.” His face brightened. “My mom was a writer and used to tell me stories when I was a kid and my dad liked to act out the characters in funny voices. I guess that’s why I ended up in the floor of a bookstore. It kind of feels like home here.” A weary smile crossed his face, but Clover sensed his sadness.

“It’s nice of you to offer. I’ll think about it. I’d pay you to look at it. I wouldn’t want you to do it for free.” She clutched the parchment roll and found herself reconsidering.

“You could buy me lunch,” he said. “Have you shown it to anyone else?”

“No.” She hadn’t told anyone, not even her sisters. It was her burning secret. “It’s probably not that great. It’s the first one I actually finished. I have tons of stories and stuff I’ve been jotting down for years.” It would be nice to have someone who didn’t know her take a look, but she said no.

“Suit yourself. My name’s Derek if you change your mind.”

And change her mind was exactly what Clover had done. Not wanting to lose the offer, she’d ended up taking her parchment back the next day and dropping it off for Derek to read. Two days later she’d found him sitting on her front porch with the novel completely marked up with comments.

“Just some thoughts,” he said. “It’s good. Really good. You’ve got potential.”

“Do you really think so?” Her heart raced and her fingers itched to unroll the parchment and see what he wrote.

“Yep. I wouldn’t have come out here if I didn’t.”

She’d invited him inside. Back in those days her house was not the tidy and cozy place it was now. With her mother gone and her sisters living in different places, Clover had let the place go. Every surface seemed to be covered with scraps of parchment scribbled with notes. Parchment rolls littered the floor, as did mugs of cold tea, laundry, both clean and dirty, and books stacked high and low.

“Nice place you have here,” he said.

“Sorry, I didn’t know I’d have a guest.” She cringed at the state of her home.

“No worries,” he added and sat at the kitchen table, brushing old toast crumbs out of the way before setting down the novel. “How long have you been a word witch?”

“A what?”

“You know. A word witch, a story spinner.” He raised a brow. “It’s kind of obvious from the looks of this place that you get a little lost in your own world when you work. Am I right?”

Something clicked inside her. He was right. Lately all she could do was think about her new idea for a love story,
Spellbinders
. It had taken over her life piece by piece, like she was living in a dream world. “Is it that bad around here?”

“A little. But nothing that can’t be managed.”

“Not by me. When my mind takes off on the chase of a story line, it’s all I can think about for days at a time. Trust me, it’s not pretty.” She ran her hand through her tangled hair.

“Sounds cool. Your
persuasion
needs to be nurtured or it will fade. Magic that’s neglected will shrivel and die. You should keep writing, but you might want to get some help around the house, too.”

“Now that’s the truth. How come you know so much about story magic?”

“My parents were into it. They loved stories. My mom wrote plays and my dad was an actor.” There was a small flicker of light in his eyes that quickly died.

“Cool. So you grew up in story worlds.” But she couldn’t get much out of him about them so she changed the subject. “Why don’t you show me your ideas, and I’ll make us some lunch?”

They’d dug into a couple of peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches and talked all afternoon. Within a few weeks they had become fast friends and Derek stayed on as her assistant, leaving his part-time job at the bookstore.

Derek was a great manager, but there was a mystery to him, a past deeply buried. She never pushed him to talk about his parents or his upbringing, their sudden death leaving a hole in him, making it impossible for him to return to his old life. He’d told her moving to the Meadowlands and starting over was the best thing that had happened to him. Working for her gave him direction, a purpose. Her stories connected him to his upbringing. In fact, it was his idea for her to create the alter ego, Cassandra Reason. He said it would be like she was playing a part. She remembered the day and what he said, “If life’s too much for you, then be someone else. That’s what I did.”

She always wondered what part of himself he left behind. He had that look in his eyes tonight—the mysterious young wizard who’d drifted into her life, wounded and raw.

“Are you coming with me tonight to Oliver Yearling’s vigil?” Clover asked, bringing her mind back to the present. She didn’t want to push him.

“No. It’s not my thing.” He shook his head. “I’ve got some stuff I want to get done.”

Clover wandered through the aisles of The Potion Garden, admiring the beautiful potion bottles and equally interesting contents. Laugh Riot and Chocolate Rush were two new potions Clover noticed on the shelf. Her sister had a playful side, and it showed in her magical concoctions. With her arms loaded down with potion bottles, Pepper, Vivi’s assistant, refilled the stock. Her auburn bob was freshly cut and she wore a pair of green-rimmed glasses that framed her bright eyes. She was one of the few witches who knew Clover’s secret identity.

While Clover filled her sister in on all the details of her day, Vivi pulled the cashbox from under the counter, and with a wave of her wand she locked the box filled with the day’s gold count. Her hair was pulled up into a swirling mass on top of her head. Vivi ran the potion shop but her real
persuasion
was prophecy. The three sisters had made a pact not to ask her to look into their future, but at a time like this, Clover was a little tempted to ask Vivi to tell her anything about what might happen in the days to come.

“Maybe a hint or a vibe?” Clover leaned her hip against the counter. “A tiny clue.”

“The future is like clay. It’s still in progress. It’s pliable. Let it play out. Try this instead. It’s a new potion,” Vivi said and handed her a sparkling green glass bottle. The tag around the bottle’s neck read:
Take a breather
. “It tastes like a gulp of fresh air.”

Clover took the bottle and lovingly squeezed her sister’s hand. “Thanks. I need it. I just wish I’d been able to do more to find out what really happened to Oliver. The pieces are all scattered. I don’t know whom to focus on.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to do tomorrow with the warrant?” Vivi asked.

“I’m going to let the sheriff into my closet and let him poke around my skeletons.” Clover tried to make light of the situation. “I don’t see any choice. I’m no closer to knowing who killed Oliver Yearling, and if I know Juniper, she’ll be at my house bright and early tomorrow morning with the warrant clutched in her fist.”

“Do you want me to be there for moral support?” Vivi gave her a concerned smile.

“Don’t you have to work?”

“Yes, but I’ll take off in a heartbeat. Just say the word. I’m sure Pepper wouldn’t mind opening the shop tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Pepper said, sliding a cardigan over her sundress and waving her wand, extinguishing the illuma lights in the back room.

A weight lifted off her shoulders. “I could use the sisterly support.” Clover snuck behind the counter and gave Vivi a hug. “Have you talked to Lance lately?”

“No, he’s busy with multiple cases and we decided not to talk about the warrant until it was all over. It’s better for our relationship that way.”

“Probably a good idea. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to talk about when he sees inside my closet. I just hope he keeps his word and keeps quiet.” Clover’s stomach twisted into knots when she thought about tomorrow and all of Everland finding out who she really was.

“Me, too. I’m sure he’ll try.”

Pepper hurried up behind them to get in on the conversation. “Not likely. You know the gossip patrol. Witches always find out.”

“Where’s Derek? I was hoping to see him tonight,” Vivi said as she closed up the shop behind them and activated the security ward.

“He wasn’t feeling up to it. Said he had a few things to do tonight and that he’d see me in the morning. We haven’t been able to work since all this started and he’s going a little stir-crazy.”

“A night off will do him some good,” Vivi said.

Main Street was buzzing with energy. Illuma lights glowed, and the shops were bustling. Nocturnal beings that they were, witches and wizards loved the nighttime hours, and the vigil had brought out the masses, like magical moths to the flame.

Vigils weren’t common. When witches and wizards passed away they were typically burned and their ashes scattered. Burials were rare, unless the Witch Council entombed the body for reverence like they did for the founding witch of Everland, Hazel. Memorials were usually private, arranged and attended by family members. On the contrary, the vigil for Oliver Yearling had been organized by a group of witches in town who were distressed about his murder and wanted to bring the community together. Clover thought it was a good idea, as did many others, indicated by the crowd already gathered around the circle at the end of the street.