Bewitching Boots (12 page)

I made my way back down to the castle entrance, thinking about Rita, Isabelle, and Sir Dwayne. I could understand Rita trying to protect Sir Dwayne, but it was interesting that she
thought
he could be guilty. At least her confession to Detective Almond put a different spin on who the killer could be—a killer who wasn’t Bill.

Maybe she was just doing what I’d done with Bill—give him a chance if the police started looking his way.

I was happy to share that information with Bill during a brief afternoon break. The museum was packed with visitors when I got back. It was my first opportunity to tell him the good news.

He didn’t take it the way I’d expected him to. “I still feel responsible for that beautiful girl’s death. I know you don’t believe in my magic, Jessie, but it’s real. And sometimes it can be harmful.”

Manny and I exchanged glances. He didn’t remark on the subject, just sipped his green tea that we’d bought at the Honey and Herb Shoppe.

I felt compelled to say something. “We don’t know for sure what happened to Isabelle yet, Bill. But I really don’t think she danced her way off the terrace. I have faith that you didn’t hurt her in any way. Isabelle had a problem with people. I’m afraid it may have finally come back on her.”

“Regardless of what happened, I’ve decided to rid myself of my elf magic before I hurt anyone else,” Bill declared.

That dragged Manny into the conversation. “How do you propose to do that?”

“I’ve heard of a woman here at the Village who can help me.”

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“I’m not sure of her name, but she stays over there in the tent by the Main Gate.”

Manny nodded. “The fortune teller.”

I’d had a few encounters with Madame Lucinda. I didn’t know if she could do what Bill was asking for, but she was a curious resident. Since I wasn’t sure what harm it could do to have her say she’d removed his elf magic, I agreed to the plan.

“I’ll go with you and introduce you to Madame Lucinda,” I offered. “Maybe she can help you.”

He smiled broadly as he finished a honey cookie. “Thank you, Jessie. You’ve been a good friend to me.”

“Just one thing I’d like to know,” I said to him. “Why does your magic work so strongly with some people and not with others? I’m wearing sandals you made, but I haven’t felt the urge to dance out of the museum.”

“I don’t really know. It’s not like my family talks about the particulars. We all know we have elf magic, and that’s that. I think what happens is a connection between me and the person wearing my shoes. Maybe that person has magic of their own.”

I thought about it. “Maybe that’s it. I certainly have no claim to any particular magic. I hope Madame Lucinda can set your mind at ease.”

We went back to the museum where the lines to see Bill’s boots were as long as ever. I felt the first warning of a storm on the way at about three p.m. when clouds started blowing in from the ocean.

It didn’t take long before rain was sweeping in from the Atlantic, with frequent lightning flashes and jarring claps of thunder. The wind rose, pulling at support lines for tents and vendor’s carts. Chase had to close down the climbing wall by three-thirty. The Village had mostly emptied out by four. A few holdouts stuck around to see if the weather would change. They took shelter in the museum and other covered spots.

By closing time at six p.m. the cobblestones were bare of visitors and residents. The sky boiled furiously above us. There were no hurricane warnings up, but the coming evening was vicious enough to keep everyone indoors.

I’d closed the museum at five when the last of the visitors had fled toward the Main Gate. Manny put on a huge poncho and rode to his apartment on his bicycle. Bill and I met Chase at the Monastery Bakery where he was trying to help with a squabble among the monks. There was always some disagreement between the hooded Brotherhood of the Sheaf, the only unpaid workers in the Village. They were only there for the love of the Renaissance.

I didn’t ask what was going on. The mutinous faces of Brother Carl, who was technically the monks’ leader, and Brother John who coveted his position, were enough to keep me out of it.

“We’re going to see Madame Lucinda,” I told Chase. “Bill wants her help to get rid of his elf magic.”

Chase nodded. He was seated on a rough table listening to the monks complain about someone not adhering to the strict baking code they maintained. “I’ll probably be here a while. Stop by when you’re done. Maybe you can rescue me from hearing anymore about what kind of flour they need to use.”

I smiled and quickly kissed him. “Cheer up. Maybe you can keep them from holding a midnight bake-off to decide what action they should take. You know they’d want you to be the judge.”

He groaned. “Don’t remind me. Good luck.”

Bill and I shared a big umbrella to walk from the bakery to the fortuneteller’s tent. We walked past the entrance to Sherwood Forest. It was five acres of trees and rocks where Robin Hood and his Merry Men and Women lived and worked.

Robin, Friar Tuck, and a new Maid Marion, were talking with potential forest folk who’d waited through the storm for a crack at becoming part of their band. Despite the torrential downpour, it seemed that Robin was requiring his recruits to start a fire as part of their aptitude test. The small group of young men and women were doing their best, but it appeared to be a hopeless task. Robin saluted as he saw Bill and me walk by.

I was so glad I was over my fascination with the forest.

Despite the howling winds and rain, Madame Lucinda’s purple tent didn’t so much as shudder. It looked as though it would’ve been blown away by the storm, but there it was.

Madame Lucinda really
did
have some kind of magic. I couldn’t speculate on what kind it was, but it seemed to involve dragons. To put it flatly, I was fairly sure that the woman was part dragon herself. And there was the matter of a small dragon living with her.

Other people, including Chase, claimed not to see it. Maybe Bill could if he really had elf magic as he claimed. I wasn’t sure why
I
could see it.

I pulled on Bill’s sleeve before we went inside the tent. I had to yell for him to hear me over the rain and wind. “Are you sure about this? Once your magic is gone, you might not be able to get it back.”

“I’m sure.” He pushed his wet hair off his forehead. I noticed that his hand trembled as he did it. “I’m done with this stupid heritage.” He lifted the purple and gold tent flap.

“Okay.” I followed him in, wondering if he’d be able to see Madame Lucinda’s wonders as I could. He’d said he could see Wanda, another thing Chase couldn’t see. I was excited to find out.

Once the tent flap fell behind us, there was no sound from the storm outside. The tent walls didn’t move with the wind buffeting them. It was as though inside the tent was sheltered from everything outside.

“Lady Jessie.” Madame Lucinda bowed her head respectfully to me. “To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

She was deeply stooped, with wild gray hair. Her face didn’t show her age to be more than possibly forties or early fifties. Her body appeared much older. She always wore a long purple robe. From the waist up, she seemed to be a normal human, but the bottom part of her was abnormally large and out of proportion to the rest of her.

I remembered why that was from the first time I’d seen her without her robe. Her legs were thick and scaly, and there was a wide tail too. It made me swallow hard thinking about it.

“Madame Lucinda.” I bowed my head in return. “This is Bill Warren.”

She nodded. “The cobbler. Yes. I’ve seen your work. Very nice. What can I do for you?”

Bill was really nervous too. His voice was barely above a whisper. He had to clear his throat to be heard. “Jessie tells me you might be able to take away my elf magic.”

Her eyes were bright as they focused on his face. “You realize what will happen if I take away your magic?”

“Yes.” He looked at me. “No. Probably not. I’ve always had it. I inherited it from my father and his father before him.”

“Yes. I know.”

“Wait.” I glanced between them. “He
really
has elf magic?”

“Of course. It runs through his bloodline. No doubt from an ancestral mating of human and elf.” She shrugged one shoulder. “It happens.”

“You mean there really
are
elves?”

“Not so much as there once were, Jessie,” she explained. “But there are still elves in many uninhabited areas of the world.”

“Elves—like tiny little men who make toys and cookies?” I couldn’t believe it.
Wait until I tell Chase.

“No. Elves are another race, and they are about the same size as humans.” She smiled as though I were a small child. “Perhaps you’re thinking of another race of magical beings.”

“Perhaps.” I felt a little stupid with the way she said it.

Her sharp eyes turned back to Bill. “Losing your magic will mean that your work will be good, but without that indefinable spark that people so admire. There could be other complications for you as well. Magic changes everything. When yours is gone, your life will be different.”

Bill seemed to think if over and then finally made up his mind. “I don’t care. Whatever it is, it will be better than harming the people who buy my shoes.”

“Wait! Wait just a minute.” I pointed to the small green dragon that was lounging on Madame Lucinda’s fortune telling table. Occasionally its bright gold eyes would blink and its tail would swish like a cat’s. “Can you see Buttercup on the table over there?” I asked Bill.

He followed my gaze and stared intently as the terrier-sized dragon got up and stretched. “Yikes.” He took a step back. “Is that real? Or is this another Ren Faire thing?”

I did a little touchdown dance. “
Yes
! Someone besides me can see the dragon.”

“Buttercup is very real.” Madame Lucinda stroked her pet’s back ridge. “Only a special few can see her.”

“Wow!” Bill exclaimed. “I thought they were extinct.”

“They aren’t dinosaurs,” I told him. “They’re supposed to be mythological creatures like centaurs and unicorns. They aren’t supposed to exist.”

“I guess I can see her because of my magic,” he said.

“That’s right,” Madame Lucinda agreed. “That will change if I take it.”

“I know. But I can’t control it. And after Isabelle’s death, I don’t want it anymore. Please.” He bowed his head. “Take it.”

Bill looked as though he was braced for a flash of painful lightning that would end his elf magic. His body was hunched and stiff, eyes closed and fists clenched.

Madame Lucinda blinked her eyes. “It is gone.”

He moved around a little. “Is that it?”

“That is a
great
deal.” She stared deeply into his eyes. “I will hold your magic for three days and three nights. During that time, you may return and claim it. After the third night, I will disperse it into the universe. Good luck, Mr. Warren.”

Bill was happy enough about it. Madame Lucinda’s voice had held notes of doom in it. Bill skipped out of the tent with a big grin on his face. He was laughing as the tent flap closed behind him.

I turned to her. “He’s going to be miserable without it, isn’t he?”

“I should think so. Perhaps his commitment to be without magic will see him through.”

“Why can I see Buttercup? I don’t have elf magic. I don’t understand.”

She smoothed a slightly scaly hand across my cheek. “Which is what makes you so wonderful.”

“Wonderful? Do I have some kind of magic too?”

“Only you can answer that question.”

I really hate those kinds of answers.

Chapter Eleven

The storm was still raging across the Village. So much rain had fallen that large puddles had begun to accumulate across the cobblestones and grass. I held on to my umbrella and thought about magic all the way back to the Dungeon.

Bill was long gone by the time I got outside the tent. I hoped he wouldn’t be
too
unhappy without his magic. I needed him to finish the exhibit at the museum.

Magic.
I was tossing the word around as lightly as though I was saying pretzel or skirt.

I believed in magic. Our home had been changed by it when a sorcerer had passed through the Village. But I couldn’t see magic in myself. I wasn’t sure about Bill’s ex-magic—although he had been able to see Wanda and Buttercup.

Chase was drying off and changing clothes when I got back. “I have to go back out,” he told me. “I thought I was in for the night, but then D’Amos called. The storm stampeded the camels out of their pen. We’re going to round them up.”

“I won’t bother changing then so I can go with you.”

“Or there might be something else you should do.” He pulled on a dry shirt.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“I saw Tony while I was at the Monastery Bakery.” He grinned. “Your brother wants to be a monk.”

“My
brother
? A monk? You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“Nope. He’s going through the acceptance process tonight. That was part of the problem at the bakery. I resolved it for now, but it will be back again with Tony taking his vows.”

I flopped down on the bed. “I’d rather herd camels than try to talk him out of it.”

“That’s up to you. I thought you should know.”

I sighed.
Heavily
. My twin brother Tony had spent as much time at the Village as I had. He’d done as many things in the Village as I had. His last job had been working for Robin Hood doing online promotion. I’d hoped it would be his last job for a while. I was doomed to disappointment.

Still, he was my brother and the only one left in my family. Our parents had been killed in a wreck when we were very young. Our grandmother had taken us in, but she was gone now too. We only had each other. There wasn’t anyone else who could talk Tony out of doing something stupid.

Chase finished dressing and put on his poncho and boots. “I’ll see you later. Don’t let your brother become a monk. Love you.”

He kissed me and was gone. He knew I’d go get Tony and save the monks. That’s why he’d told me.