Hex on the Beach (The Magic & Mixology Mystery Series Book 1) (11 page)

I groaned. Gus didn’t look happy as he scanned the beach, his eyes locking on mine as we neared the bungalow. “Why does everyone hate me already? Harpin, Gus…” I turned to face my cousin, but she was too busy burying her head in the bag of Glow tea. “Poppy, you are
glowing.
” I turned to Zin. “Is that safe?”

“Oh, good. It’s working.” Poppy smiled. Her face had a greenish tinge, sort of like a nauseated version of the Hulk or a glow stick sold at Fourth of July parades.

“Isn’t it supposed to just, uh, enhance your skin?” I asked.

“Yes, isn’t it?” Poppy frowned. “It’s supposed to make you radiant.”

“Well, you’re certainly radiating… something.” I nodded. “Like toxic waste.”

“His teas are crap,” Zin said. “Come on, Poppy, stop sniffing it. You’re going to turn into a pile of neon goop if you don’t get your head out of that bag.”

“Is she okay?” I asked, stepping toward the porch.

“She’s fine, just one too many sniffs of the tea leaves,” Zin said with a shake of her head. “Go on. We’ll meet you later.”

I nodded. “I’ll see you around.”

“We’ll be at Grannie’s,” Poppy shouted as Zin yanked her in the opposite direction. “Grannie likes to sniff the tea leaves too. You can join if you want!”

“Sounds lovely,” I called with a wave. But the smile fell from my face, replaced by a sensation of dread, when I turned around.

Gus stared daggers at me.

I gave him a curt nod. “Oh, hello, Gus.”

“Having a good time
sniffing leaves?
” Gus’s voice was low. “Did you forget about your studies?”

“No.”

“Blowing off your lessons to frolic around The Isle?” Gus followed me inside. “I tell you an hour, you take an hour and five minutes.”

“I took a lunch break.” I faced him, trying hard not to let my voice wobble. “This is hard work, and I had a nice time with my cousins. I’m ready to get started.”

I strode over to the table in the center of the room. The
Magic of Mixology
lay open to the last page I’d read. I sat down and skimmed the words, revisiting the herbs and flowers I’d learned earlier in the day. When I glanced up a few moments later, Gus was standing along the far wall, his lips slightly parted in confusion.

“Yes?” I asked sweetly.

Gus leapt to attention as if I’d startled him. “Read. Stop talking.”

Ten hours later, I rose from the table. My legs ached, my arms drooped like weary noodles, and my head spun like a top. I’d barely moved for the rest of the day, learning flower name after flower name, studying herb property after herb property, and memorizing which herbs could be mixed with which flowers.

Dinner had been provided at the table. A glass of water refilled magically whenever I sipped it. If I moved so much as an inch, Gus stopped whatever he was doing—organizing the shelves, grinding powders, measuring stem lengths—to glare at me until I continued reading. I only got to stretch my legs during two bathroom breaks all day.

Strenuous and long were the two words I’d use to describe the day. If every day was like this, I didn’t know how long I could hold up before I crashed.

“One more page,” Gus said, and I sat back in my chair. “Now.”

“I’m not retaining anything.” I collapsed against the table, leaning my head in my arms. “I’m exhausted, and my legs are cramping.”

Gus grunted, and I took that as a sign I was dismissed.

Part of me wanted to join the girls and Grannie and sniff some tea leaves, but I had a feeling that ship had sailed hours ago. It was late now, almost one in the morning. I could stop by tomorrow instead—if Gus didn’t keep me captive all day again. The only date I had for the rest of the evening was with my bed.

I dragged myself up the stairs, wishing I had the power to fly. Then I remembered I was a witch. I had no idea how to work a spell, but I was tired enough to cross my fingers and try.

“My legs are tired, I’d like to cheat—

So give me wings instead of feet.

Make me fly on up to bed,

Where I can lay and rest my head.”

My heart sank when it didn’t work. But the steps looked too challenging for my sore legs, and I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

“Give me wings and make me fly,

Take me high up in the sky.

Gus is mean, and grumpy too.

Making me fly is the least he can do
.”

“How are those spells going for you?” Gus asked, standing below me on the staircase. “Any luck?”

I groaned. “Did you hear the last part?”

“I heard all the parts.”

“I didn’t really mean it…” I breathed. “I’m too tired to even apologize. Sorry. I’ll be nicer tomorrow.”

Gus cleared his throat. “Good night.”

I turned back in surprise. “Good night, Gus.”

He turned away. As I climbed the stairs, the sound of his futzing in the store filtered upstairs, comforting in its familiarity. Though he put on a hard shell, I had the feeling Gus cared more about Mixology than anyone on this Isle.

I found the bedroom in the attic, a room with slanted ceilings that met in a peak at the center. The space was big, formed from airy windows and high raftered ceilings. The bed sat in the middle of the room, all white, fluffy, and welcoming.

Stumbling toward the bed, I took a moment to bask in the bright moonlight and twinkling starlight streaming through the windows. In the Twin Cities, we could hardly see any stars due to the amount of lights, but here, the night was pure and crystalline.

After a quick shower, I slipped into the first nightie I could find hanging in my magically enhanced closet, and I climbed into bed. The smell of freshly laundered sheets, scented with sunlight and salty sea air, enveloped my body as the silky fabrics lay smooth against my skin.

I sighed in bliss. As I closed my eyes, listening to Gus tinkering in the store below—glass lids tinkling as jars were opened and shut, the swish of a broom’s bristles against the wooden floor, the creak of a chair as Gus finally sat down—the stress of the day seeped away, and I was left with a sense of contentment I’d rarely known.

My fingers found the heart charm dangling above my chest, the necklace still warm to my touch. Though it was just a simple piece of jewelry, I remembered what my aunts had told me—it was protection, a piece of my mother passed on to me.

And as I drifted to sleep on the magical Isle, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the family I’d come to know and already love.

“
Wake up!
”

The shout startled me from a peaceful, dreamless slumber. I rolled over, savoring the last few minutes in the heavenly comfort of my bed. Gus’s grating voice served as the harsh reminder that I had another long day ahead of me, one filled with more reading, sitting, studying, reciting—so much work that my head ached just thinking about it.

“
What do you think this is, a bed and breakfast?
”
From the sound of it, Gus was standing at the bottom of the staircase, shouting his lungs out. “
Get your rear end out of bed and come downstairs.
Now.
”

I shut my eyes, thinking that had to be the most obnoxious alarm clock in the land. I bet the East Isle could hear every word.

“I’m coming!” I called back. My words cracked, my voice still rusty with sleep.
How long had I been out?

Squinting, I spotted a clock on an old, antique-style dresser, and it blinked seven o’clock. I had barely managed six hours of shut-eye before it was time to get back at it.

As much as my body didn’t want to sit and study for another twelve hours, a part of me fluttered with excitement. At some point, the studying had to slow and the mixing had to begin. That was what I looked forward to learning. But my excitement was interrupted by more of Gus’s bellowing echoing up the stairs.

“I’m
coming
.”

I stood, selected another sundress from the closet for simplicity’s sake, and stepped into it. The fabric was soft against my skin, an off-white with a hint of lace on the sleeves. It felt nice against my slightly burned skin—my body wasn’t used to the strong sun on The Isle. This magic closet was something I could get used to, for sure. It was better than a personal stylist and far less expensive.

I shuffled downstairs after pairing a set of fluffy, pastel-yellow slippers with my white dress, since I didn’t have anyone to impress. I would bet a lot of money Gus didn’t give a rat’s behind about shoe style.

“It’s early.” I rubbed my eyes as I stepped into the store. “We couldn’t have started at eight?”

“No.” Gus, though he’d had less sleep than me, looked as if he’d clocked a full twelve hours of snoozing and gotten a massage at a spa. His eyes were clear, and he managed to speak in complete sentences, unlike myself.

“Do we have coffee?”

“You can make some.” Gus bustled about the shelves, pulling down a few jars. “I’ve got out the ingredients for a Caffeine Cup. Go ahead.”

“Can’t I just make regular coffee?” I asked.

“Why would you want to?” Gus’s eyes flashed with confusion as he gestured around the store. “That’s like going to a gourmet buffet and asking for a piece of plain toast.”

“How am I supposed to know? Mimsey made regular coffee yesterday,” I grumbled, still cranky at getting pulled out of bed so early. “Coffee’s been working for me for the past decade.”

“Yes, well, she doesn’t need the practice. You do.”

“Do you have instructions?” I scratched my head, looking with dismay at the ingredients spread across the counter. “I don’t know how any of these things work.”

“Then I suggest you figure it out.” Gus shook his head. “Do you expect me to do your work for you? I only pulled the jars from the shelves so you wouldn’t kill yourself with your first mix. Nothing there is toxic. You might get sick, but you’ll recover.”

“How very kind of you.” I peered closer at the jars, this time recognizing one or two of them. “Will you watch to make sure I do it right?”

“No. I have an errand to run—need to sweep up some more Nightshade from the supply shop.” Gus grabbed a hat from a peg beside the door and put it on his head. “I’ll be back. You have ten minutes to complete it, or no caffeine for you.”

“That’s not fair,” I moaned.

“Ten minutes.”

Ten minutes later, I had somehow concocted a bubbling mass of something that looked similar to coffee but had a bit of a foreign scent to it.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” I mumbled. “No instructions and expecting me to work before coffee. Now that’s just cruel.”

Glancing around the store and making sure that Gus hadn’t crept back unnoticed, I leaned over my miniature mixing cauldron. It sat on a stand above a tea lamp, which according to the
Magic of Mixology
, was the best way to heat a Caffeine Cup.

I waved my hand, feeling like an idiot as I recited another made-up incantation.

             
Bubble, bubble, toil, and trouble

              Can’t think of a rhyme except for Hubble.

              I need some coffee, and I need it fast,

              Else my patience for Gus will never last.

I gave the mixture a moment to react, hoping against hope I’d unlocked the secret of magic. Unfortunately, I hadn’t.

“Dang it,” I murmured as the mixture remained exactly the same. “Why does that never work?”

The creak of a porch stair alerted me to Gus’s presence just outside the store, but I was too late to do anything about it. He leaned against the edge of the door, his face impossible to read.

“I didn’t mean it. Again. I promise,” I stammered. “I was just testing to see if I could come up with a spell, but…wait a second. What’s wrong? Why do you look so sad?”

He didn’t respond.

“Gus, is everything okay?” I stepped from behind the table.

Again, he didn’t move to answer my question. But before I could prod him for information, Aunt Trinket flew past him into the room, a whirl of pink pantsuit, puffed-up hair, and angry lips.

“What did you
do?
” Striding straight up to me, her eyes wide and her body shaking in what I guessed was either surprise or rage, she looked me in the eye. “What were you
thinking,
Lily?”

“What are you talking about?” I stepped back. Trinket’s perfume smelled perfectly fine on a normal day, but this morning, it overwhelmed me and made me claustrophobic as she waved her arms in front of my face.

“Leonard Fluffleknocker,” she said. “What on earth did you do to him?”

“Absolutely nothing.” I glanced over her shoulder at Gus, hoping he’d confirm my story. “He wasn’t even sick to begin with. I gave him coffee and juice, that’s it.”

Trinket breathed heavily, her eyes still brimming with crazy. “You did nothing. Are you sure?”

“Not a thing,” I said again. “I’m positive. Gus can back me up, I promise.”

More heavy breathing from Trinket, and no confirmation from Gus.

“Why?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

Aunt Trinket eyed me up and down, her face contorting in thought. Eventually, her expression turned from upset to resigned. She shook her head.

“What?” I pressed.

Trinket lowered her gaze, her shoulders slumping as if the anger had seeped right from her and evaporated into thin air, leaving only a trace of sadness in its wake. “He’s gone.”

“Leonard’s gone? He ran away?” I asked. “Where did he go?”

“No. Leonard was found dead this morning.” She looked at me, her eyes bright with warning, analyzing my face. “He’s died, Lily. And everyone’s wondering why.”