Mr. Bixby vanished before his paws touched the carpet but Marli was too busy getting her cloaking sorted to notice. I was the last to disappear.
“Follow Skye,” Mr. Bixby said, sticking with the inside line. “She knows the layout better than anyone. Never thought I’d appreciate another spectral sheepdog, but here we are.”
I went first, with Marli’s hand on my back. We followed the ghost dog silently, up one row and down the other. For a while there was silence and then books started toppling in the rows we’d left. It sounded like our assailant was losing her temper. She fired some books randomly over the stacks and a few landed pretty close.
“Just keep wearing her down,” Bixby said. “It’s a good thing, as long as you stay cool.”
That wasn’t easy. I’d faced many adversaries but none with her level of skill. She had fried Angus’s brain in an extravagant way. Far less would have killed him but she wanted it to be violent and excruciating.
“And you know that how?” Bixby asked.
Because I was collateral damage. I’d taken the overflow from that hex and it was violent enough. Someone else might have died from it.
“Exactly,” my dog said. “That means you have something on her, no?”
If it was my firepower, I wasn’t confident there was enough to go around right now. Skye led us on a long and winding path through history, biology and self-help before we finally ended up where the whole story began: the occult section.
Three shelves were still empty but I paused long enough to run my hand along the middle shelf. It lit up with magical residue exactly where Angus had pulled out the deadly tome. A horrible sensation rushed from my burnt fingertips through my body. It felt electrical, like localized lightning.
“Let it go,” Bixby said. I shook my hand again to cool it. “Hold steady. You’re fine. Or as fine as you can be in the situation.”
Now, Skye led us out to the open area where groups gathered for children’s hour or author visits.
“Stay behind me and stay quiet,” I whispered to Marli. “This could get ugly.”
“It’s not ugly already? What’s your definition of ugly?”
I elbowed her in the midriff and she simmered down. “Hello, book basher,” I called out. “Pretty sure I smell a passion for French cooking. Sounds like you came early and often to plan for Angus’s memorial.”
When Gildena Dodd dropped her cloaking, she was much closer than anticipated. My plan was to stay hidden but she whisked away that option with a flick of her fingertips that exposed Marli and me.
“Ah. Another witch school wannabe,” she said. “Spawn of the Main Street Mafia, no less.”
Marli started to argue and then yipped, probably from a nip by an invisible canine.
“Gildena, we’re novices, just like your daughter,” I said. “Cornering us like this is a flagrant violation of magical ethics. Everyone understands the shared responsibility of protecting the young.”
She laughed and it had a slightly maniacal tone. This wasn’t just a powerful angry witch, but an unhinged one. “There’s no code of ethics in this town. Hasn’t been for more than a century. And you’re not children.” She backed away slightly, completely unaware of a ghost sheepdog subtly herding her. “No one protected my girl. Why should I protect anyone else’s?”
“Protected Cassie from what?”
“From her abusive father, obviously. He had me barred from Wyldwood through bogus charges. I had no access to Cassandra for years, and then only furtively. By that time the damage was done. He’d destroyed her confidence and convinced her she was a… a dud.”
Her voice faded on the last word and I heard the heartbreak and guilt. She felt like she’d failed Cassie.
“But Cassie is fine now,” I said. “She knows that was all a lie and she’s in training. Plus she married a sweet man.”
“Angus traded her off like livestock. Blaine is little better than my daughter.”
“No matter how it happened, they adore each other. I witnessed that directly. Angus called the wedding off and they wanted to continue.”
“Well, he won’t harm my daughter ever again, and Blaine won’t either. I will train Cassandra myself and make sure she never knows the pain of losing a child.”
“I can only imagine how horrible that was, but now that Cassie’s out from under her father’s thumb she probably wants to make her own decisions.”
Gildena took a step toward me and then back, too furious to sense she’d walked into a ghost dog. “What do you know?”
“I know a lot about resisting parental authority. Spent over ten years on the run because of it. And now that I’m home, I make my own mistakes and learn from them. Just like Norris Strump says.”
“Old quack. He should be locked in the home for aging magicals. Crossword puzzles? Seriously.”
Marli wanted to agree but another yip confirmed my dog was doing the disciplining. Skye refused to leave Gildena unattended.
“I’ve learned a lot from the crossword exercise,” I said. “And from Norris’s compassion. Cassie will, too. Otherwise, why would the mayor choose him to mentor us?”
She waved a dismissive hand and backed up another step. “Ruthann’s weak. She’s always been in the Main Street Mafia’s back pocket. Someone stronger would have squashed them years ago.”
“Wouldn’t be easy, especially with so many of them.”
“Well, they’re down one now, aren’t they? I plan to take out the rest one by one. Ruthann can hold the line when I’ve cleaned up the mess.”
“That was a nasty hex you put on the book. Aftermath knocked me right out.”
This time, she walked swiftly through the ghost dog to confront me. “There was enough charge on that book to take out three men. Why didn’t it kill you?”
I shrugged. “Barely touched it, that’s all. Got lucky.”
She stared at me with intense dark eyes. “There’s nothing lucky about that curse, Janelle. Even being in proximity should have put you in the hospital.” Lifting a finger, she nodded. “Oh, wait. Shelley’s protective spell. It’s a mother’s job.”
