Phantom Quartz: A Stacy Justice Witch Mystery Book 6 (Stacy Justice Magical Mysteries) (8 page)

Chapter 14

Words, images and pictures of what took place over the last few hours flashed through my mind like a slide-show. Her on my cottage porch, the coat that didn’t quite fit, seemingly for someone larger, taller. Plus all that black. My mother wore her clothing as if she were a walking garden. Whimsy and color were her style, fresh and fun. The clothes worn by the woman I thought was my mother were drab, plain, unimaginative. Thinking back, the sweatshirt looked brand new. As if purchased at O’Hare. The only way to get to the airport near Amethyst was through Chicago. And the comment about knowing my scent. Vanilla was also my mother’s favorite. So did she know my mom? Or was that a coincidence? Not to mention the sparring match. Mom and I used to practice defense moves, but she hadn’t bested me since my eleventh birthday. 

More scenes crashed through my brain. The light—her ability to turn it off and on. Certainly not a gift my mother ever possessed. She told me not to stare at her. Was she afraid I might penetrate her disguise? The surprise at Lolly’s state of mind. I had chalked it up to Mom being gone for so many years, but Lolly’s mind has been fragmented ever since she lost her love—long before I was even born.

Perhaps the biggest clue of all was when the woman called Birdie ‘Mom’—that should have tipped me off, and I could have kicked myself that I didn’t question it before.

“Are you just going to stand there and study me or are you going to answer my question?” Mom demanded.

I had to be sure. I reached deep inside myself, all the way back through my twenties, my teenage years, the death of my father and into childhood. I focused on every ounce of love I carried for the woman who gave me life. Her hands were at her sides and I reached for both of them, held them tight, peering into her eyes, into her heart, her soul.

There was that spark, that tiny swirl of glimmering stars—the visible bond of our psychic connection. It was still there, however weak, despite its long hiatus. I felt my own eyes tingle as the connection entwined itself around us. It was her. This was my mother.

So who the hell was the imposter?

I broke away and the energy dissipated. “Come upstairs with me and I’ll explain things.” I looked at the clock. The guests would be here soon. “Gramps, Birdie is expecting a few guests from Cinnamon’s family. Do you think you could show them to their rooms? And also, could you call Angelica and tell her that Birdie isn’t feeling up to hosting a crowd and that she’d like to postpone dinner until tomorrow evening?”

Gramps, in usual Gramps fashion, didn’t question a word of it. “Sure, sweetie. Whatever you need. Is your grandmother all right?”

“Just tired is all.” I retrieved the registry book and the keys from the check-in desk, handed them to my grandfather and kissed him on the cheek.

As mom and me hurried up the stairs, Gramps said, “Well, Thor, looks like we’re ordering a pizza.”

Thor grunted in approval and a hulking piece of pepperoni floated through my thoughts. I paused to look at Thor, but he was busy trotting off to where Birdie kept the takeout menus.

When we reached the top of the stairs, my mother turned to me and said, “Okay, Stacy. What the hell is going on? Something’s amiss, I can feel it.” She took her coat off and hung it on the hall tree. “It smells like baloney and malarkey in here.”

“In the magic chamber,” was all I said.

Mom gave me a dubious look and marched off toward the end of the long hallway, past the guest rooms. She turned left and pushed open the door that led to the Geraghty Girls’ private quarters and picked up the pace, continuing on until she reached the end of the long hallway.

I quickly texted Chance to tell him something had come up and dinner was canceled. He offered to take me to breakfast the next morning.

Mom stood in front of the life-sized portrait of the goddess perched on her throne, a golden chalice in her hand. She closed her eyes and waved her arms, but nothing happened.

“There’s a door there now, Mom. A real one.”

Because at one time the painting had been used as a portal to cloak the secret room. It had functioned as a gateway that needed a little bit of vision questing to coax it open. However, after my too close encounter with the goddesses, I demanded the real painting be stowed away. For nostalgic reasons, Birdie insisted we at least hang a replica of Danu over the door.

Or maybe that was just to irritate me, I’m not sure.

Mom pulled the door open and curved around the passageway until she reached the entrance to the Geraghtys’ hidden lair. She stole a quick glance back at me and pushed through.

I was expecting a gasp. Perhaps an audible cry. Maybe even a look of shocked awe. I was not expecting her to spin around and say, “Good lord, Stacy, what did you
do
?”

Hands on hips and everything.

Honestly, you’d think by now the women in my family would have a little more faith in me. I hardly ever flubbed a spell anymore. Sure, there was that one time at the founder’s day picnic when I brought a bunch of dogs back to life by accident, but that could have happened to anyone. Besides, that was the last time I cast a spell while drinking.

“What makes you think I had anything to do with this? This isn’t my fault.”

“Well then what happened? Did they all get into the Jameson? Did Lolly mix up her special tea with Earl Grey?”

I held up a hand, not ready to tell her the whole story just yet. I needed witnesses or I’d be the one locked up in a castle. Because there was simply no magic, to my knowledge, that allowed one to shapeshift into another human being. It couldn’t be done. Believe me, if it could, I’d look like Megan Fox. At least on the weekends.

“Just help me wake them up, will you, please?”

She rolled her eyes and muttered, “In town for five freaking minutes...” She walked over to the cabinet where Birdie always kept an extra supply of potions. After fumbling around for a minute or two, she pulled out a jar labeled ‘witch hazel’, a common astringent sold at most drugstores.

I stared at her. “You’re kidding.”

Mom shrugged. “They are witches after all.” She stepped over the pile of Geraghtys and held the jar out to me. “You do the honors, Stacy. Just dab a bit beneath their noses.”

Still thinking about how they had betrayed me, all three of them, not long ago, I reached for the jar and uncorked it. “I really hope you had a good reason, Birdie.”

I splashed some witch hazel on my hands and leaned over my grandmother, grazing her shoulder. Before I could even apply the potion, she startled awake.

“Ouch. You shocked me.”

I glanced back at my mother and our eyes locked. I had shocked her too when I touched her. Of course, it
was
winter. Lots of shoes scraping across carpets.

“Why am I on the floor?” Birdie asked. “I never sit on the floor. I’m not a Campfire Girl, for cripes sake.”

My mother walked over to help Birdie to her feet as I turned my attention to Lolly and Fiona.

The procedure repeated itself, with me shocking both of my great aunts awake without the aid of witch hazel. I helped Lolly to her feet first.

“What happened? Did I pass out sober?” she asked.

“No, Aunt Lolly, you’ve been liquored up since I got here.” I helped straighten out the skirt and the lights.

She said, “Good. Because that would be embarrassing.”

I tried not to, but I glanced at the elven slippers on her feet. Lolly followed my eyes, looking down at herself. “At the time, it seemed festive.” She frowned. “I should never dress without drinking.”

“Probably not.”

Fiona reached inside her pocket and produced a compact. I thought she was about to tidy up her winged liner before she popped to her feet, but she opened it and quickly snapped it shut. She looked at Birdie, then Lolly and said, “You two really ought to attend yoga with me. You both sound like a bowl of Rice Crispies.” Fiona didn’t have that problem. She had the body of a Las Vegas showgirl and the face of a cover model. There was a petition going around town to feature Fiona in a pinup calendar. Last count was 442 signatures. 

I pulled out three chairs and invited them all to sit down. It was then that they noticed my mother.

“Sloane! Oh, honey come here and give us a kiss,” Lolly said.

There were questions of, “How was the flight?” and “Why didn’t you call us to pick you up?” and “Are you hungry?”

Their faces were filled with joy and warmth, as if the last several hours never happened. It seemed they didn’t remember a thing about the collection spell. Not even about offering to host the dinner, or that someone who looked just like my mother had spent time with them today.

My mother complained of a long lay-over and jet lag, and I instinctively walked over to the cabinet, shuffled a few bottles around and pulled out a blue jar. I handed it to her absent-mindedly and said, “This will help.”

Birdie shifted in her seat as I walked over to the mirror. I fluffed up my hair and pinched my cheeks to give them color.

Birdie said, “Stacy, how did you know that was the potion for jet lag? I only made it yesterday. It’s not even labeled.”

I shrugged, patting my chin with the back of my hand. “I don’t know. Maybe you made one for me when we traveled to Ireland.”

Birdie stood and said, “No, I didn’t.”

I turned to face her. “It’s one part malachite crystal, two parts guarana, one part ginseng, isn’t it?”

An eerie silence fell over the room and suddenly all I could think about was that I needed to spice up my wardrobe. It was unsexy for someone my age who had such a handsome boy who loved her. Skirts, I needed more skirts. And I really shouldn’t wear so many baseball caps, it might stunt my hair follicles, and—

What the...?

Where had
that
come from?

Then I blurted, “The pizza’s here.” Thirty seconds before the doorbell rang.

“Uh-oh.” I said, which normally wasn’t my line. That was usually reserved for Birdie or one of the aunts, but it seemed as if the tables had been not only turned, but flipped upside down and the legs chopped off.

Chapter 15

“What uh-oh? What does that mean, Stacy?” Mom asked.

Birdie stood, drinking in the room as if for the first time. “Why are we in here anyway?”

Pacing is a nervous habit of mine. In the past, I’ve used this technique to stall the inevitable. Like when they want to send me off to battle some impending doom and I’m not quite up to the task. You know, like a virgin waiting to be tossed into a volcano. I’m sure not one of those women just stepped right up and jumped. Very likely they took a lap or two around the gaping hole. Maybe stopped for a cocktail first.

Now, though, I was pacing to avoid telling them about what I suspected was happening.

“Stacy...” Birdie warned.

I pivoted and said, “Everyone take a seat.”

Lolly yawned. She was already sitting.

“How are you all feeling?”

Birdie thought for a moment. “Tired.”

Fiona said, “That’s because you won’t take yoga with me.”

Birdie rolled her eyes. “If I wanted to contort my body like a pretzel, I’d lock myself in the dryer.”

Fiona frowned. “I’m growing tired too, actually. I feel like putting my hair up in a ponytail and climbing into a pair of sweatpants.”

Lolly looked at Fiona. “You don’t own any sweatpants.”

“I know that,” Fiona said. “Do you have any I could borrow?”

This was worse than I thought. In my head, I heard Thor happily chewing on a slice of double pepperoni.

Lolly said, “I don’t feel tired, but I do feel calm.” She looked at Birdie. “There’s no chatter. No one’s intentions or emotions are filtering through.”

At that moment, I knew two things. The first was that the reversal spell had worked and all my power had been restored. The second—and most frightening—was that I had taken theirs.

I sucked in some air and launched into the events of the past few hours the way I knew them. Of course I couldn’t fill in blanks like when the imposter had first appeared, but perhaps I could jog their memories. Somewhere, a trace of her must have existed in their minds. I walked over to the large mirror and beckoned to my mother for help. She stepped forward and together we turned it around to reveal a whiteboard. There was a marker in a compartment on the board and I took that out and began a timeline.

We started with the morning’s events and rushed straight through the afternoon. That’s when I explained about the woman on my porch who looked just like my mother.

“No,” Mom said. “That’s impossible. It can’t be done.” She looked at Birdie. “Shifters don’t exist. Right?”

Birdie, for probably the first time in her long life, was stunned silent.

Fiona said, “There are legends about shifters, to be sure, but none who can fully take on the form of another human. Animals, maybe, but even that gift has been long outlawed by the Council.”

“Well then someone is breaking the law, because she had all of us fooled. Even you, Birdie.”

“And bespelled, it would appear, since we don’t remember,” Lolly added.

Birdie was looking at a far off corner of the room when she spoke. “There was one I knew. A classmate. But even she could only change hair color. And eye color on her better days. I’ve never known anyone to take on an entirely different form.”

We all stared at Birdie. I walked over to where she sat and said, “Well maybe she’s honed her talent. Who was it?”

Birdie met my eyes. “Tallulah.”

I stiffened at the name. Tallulah was a high council member alongside Birdie. The rivalry between them spanned decades, and there was a point in time—when I competed against her grandson, Ethan, for the Seeker’s crown—that she would have done almost anything to destroy the Geraghtys. But that was all behind us now.

Wasn’t it?

We discussed the possibility of Tallulah as a shifter, but it didn’t add up. What reason would she have? Unless...did she want revenge? Did she want Ethan to replace me?

“There’s more,” I said.

I explained all about the suggestion to dismantle the Seeker’s Den and the collecting spell. “She had all of you convinced that it was your idea. You really don’t remember?”

They didn’t.

My mother shifted uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding my eyes. “Mom? Is there something you want to share with the class?”

She shook her head. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t here to stop it.” Her voice faltered.

Fiona said, “But how would she even get in? The house is surrounded by several protection spells. It’s like a fortress.”

“A fortress that also sits on a ley line. She could have gotten through that way,” I said.

Ley lines were magical pathways built by the fey who inhabited the otherworld. A sorceress could travel via a ley line, but she would need the permission of the Tuatha Dé Danann.

Birdie said, “There is another way.”

I was scribbling on the white board, collecting notes on everything that was discussed. I stopped and faced Birdie. “How?”

She hesitated and I felt the guilt run off her in waves. “She could have been invited.”

“The dinner you mentioned,” said Lolly.

That’s right. It was as if Birdie had no intention of ever hosting it. I made a note to scour the guest list.

My mother said, “So this collection spell they cast, it didn’t work?”

“Nope.” I silently pleaded with her not to ask the next question, but she did anyway.

“How did you stop it?”

I felt four pairs of eyes boring a hole through the back of my head. “I did a reversal spell.” I turned and capped the marker.

My mother’s eyes widened. “You mean you fought all of them? On your own?”

“See that’s the other thing I wanted to tell you guys.” I finally sat down, drummed my fingertips on the table. “I think the reversal spell not only retrieved my power, but stole yours as well.”

Birdie, Fiona, and Lolly exchanged glances. I could see them registering what I had said. They looked as if they didn’t want to believe it, but the longer they sat there, reaching for their own magic and failing to find it, they knew that what I was saying had to be true.

Birdie rose from the table. “That’s how you knew about the potion.”

I nodded.

“And the bell, before it rang,” said Lolly.

Another nod.

Fiona looked stricken. “Is that why you keep primping?”

“And why I have the sudden urge to dress like a Victoria’s Secret model.” I patted her hand. “And perhaps why I see pictures of what Thor wants for dinner.” I thought a moment. “Although that may be the three of you combined. Or something else entirely.”

“So,” Birdie said, “It seems you now have my healing abilities, Fiona’s gift for matchmaking and animals, Lolly’s talent for vibrational readings, as well as your own power.”

“It would appear that way, yes.”

“Interesting,” Birdie said. She wandered over to the window and gazed into the dark night for a while.

We all sat there with our thoughts until Birdie spun around. She clapped her hands together. “Hot damn! There’s no stopping you now, Seeker of Justice.”

I scrambled out of the chair. “Oh no, no, no. It’s too much, Birdie. You’re taking your gifts back as soon as I can figure out how to return them.” I whirled toward the table. “You too, Lolly, Fiona. It’s too much. It’ll break me.”

“Nonsense,” Birdie said. “Besides, however will you give it back?”

My mother watched me carefully as I stuck my hand inside the neck of my shirt. “The same way I acquired it. With the Seeker’s locket.”

Except...it was gone.