Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
What's Next
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CHAPTER ONE
Mr. Bixby clicked briskly across the hardwood floors of Whimsy, my jewelry and gift store, and flung himself down rather dramatically. “Nothing nicer than a sunbeam in December,” he said. “We’ll get precious few in the months ahead so I must enjoy it now.”
“Could you enjoy one of the other sunbeams?” I came around the counter and stared down at the dog. “You know full well Ren and Bijou will be here any minute. You’re blocking the door.”
He cracked one eye open. “This is the warmest sunbeam and a dachshund with a pedigree like mine deserves only the best.”
It wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned his pedigree today or even the third, and it was barely 10 o’clock. No one could deny he was gorgeous, with a sleek tan-and-black coat and big chocolatey eyes, but his vanity grew by the day, perhaps even by the hour. “You do deserve the best, but I’d argue there are equally good sunbeams closer to the window.”
His very existence was the biggest miracle of my life. A few months ago, this dog was a ghost inhabiting another jewelry store down south. When someone attacked me, however, he crossed over to the living to save my life.
“That was just the first time. Shall we count all the others?” He offered a deep and melodious chuckle. “It’s barely 10 o’clock. For all we know I might save your life again today.”
“Don’t say that. I was in a great mood.” Mr. Bixby could read my thoughts—at least, most of them—and we were able to converse aloud or on our “inside line.” I preferred the latter, as chitchat with even a pedigreed dachshund attracted unwanted attention. Many people in the quirky town of Wyldwood Springs had pets with unique abilities but most were able to keep a lid on their discussions. I was still learning.
“Exactly.” He answered my thoughts instead of my statement. “You need to be schooled.”
I crossed my arms. “Can we not talk about that, either?”
He rolled onto his back, letting his silky ears flop fetchingly. “What would you like to talk about, Miss Brighton? How about your little magical malady?”
It wasn’t little. I had acquired a very persistent case of nervous hiccups from my grandmother’s cousin Liberty. In trying to save her from a deadly wasting spell I’d given her a generous infusion of my energy and got nothing in return but an embarrassing condition. When I hiccupped, which was often, sunflowers sprouted in unlikely places and grew shockingly fast. “I don’t want to talk about that either, thank you very much.”
“Okay, if you don’t want to talk about the sunflower explosions, how about the other hiccupping disasters?”
“Plural? I’m only counting the situation with Minerva.” After a summons from Mayor Ruthann Longmuir a few weeks ago, I’d accidentally hiccupped her feisty feline to a very uncomfortable destination for a cat.
“Vanishing Ruthann’s familiar left the mayor exposed to the many dastardly magicals vying for her position.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” I raised my hand to stop him. “Just a figure of speech. We fixed that problem and we’re moving on.”
“But there’s the other problem, remember. The one where you exposed and then vanished the town sentinel. Ruthann said no one has managed such a feat in a century. I’d probably be proud of you if you’d done it on purpose. Or even knew you did it.”
Sometimes this dog was too much. I couldn’t even take a short break to recuperate from the challenges life in Wyldwood lobbed at me. “Enough, Bixby. Can’t we just enjoy this beautiful day?”
Lifting his head, he eyed me. “My job is to keep you alive. That starts with lively conversation about your shortcomings.”
“The only thing I want to say right now is move your pedigreed keister. Ren and Bijou are here. Just like they are every day at 10 o’clock.”
