The Mayhem Sisters (14 page)

T
he sisters never knew their father. All they had was a grainy photo of a dashing young wizard, his thick dark hair windblown, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Their mother went glassy-eyed and daydreamy when she talked about him, but was light on personal details and heavy on stories of exotic trips they took together. They’d had a whirlwind romance that led the young couple all over Everland, before Elspeth returned to their grandmother’s house with a baby due and a boyfriend who would disappear five years later.

Elspeth kept nothing of his. Not a scrap of clothing nor a snip of hair. Not one memento of their time together existed, except for three young daughters. They were too young when he left to remember much about him. It was like being fathered by a ghost.

Elspeth was a restless witch. She had a wandering soul that pulled her all over Everland, traveling and mapping every inch of the witching world, often leaving her daughters with their grandmother for weeks at a time while she ventured out, wrapped in her felt green traveling cloak and carrying a tall carved wooden staff. Not one inch of Everland remained uninspected by her. But the witching world became a cage, and when her daughters were grown and out of school, Elspeth packed up her bags and left to explore the world beyond.

She had been gone for a decade. Occasionally, messages scribbled on parchment would arrive, sometimes accompanied by mysterious twine-wrapped packages containing wondrous gifts: a giant yellow-stained tooth, an old whiskey bottle filled with fairy dust, a necklace made of foreign coins. She once sent them a journal filled with drawings and notes from her travels as a testament to her life on the road, and the sisters treasured it.

They accepted their mother as much as they could—gypsy scholar that she was—and loved her. Vivi was proud of her mother’s spirit and her life of adventure. Clover lived vicariously through the journal and the promise of a storybook world. Honora had the hardest time since she was the youngest when their mother left; she felt she missed out on time with her and harbored resentment toward her for leaving them, but at least they always had each other.

Since Clover had the most storage space in her house, she became the keeper of the family heirlooms and treasures. Currently, the three sisters were gathered in her musty attic. Clover kneeled on a threadbare carpet that lay across the cluttered wooden floor. The necklace that hung around her neck cast a faint illuma light as she dug inside of a giant old steamer trunk. Her sweater quickly collected smears of gray dust on the sleeves. “I know it’s in here somewhere,” she said with a sneeze.

“This is a terrible idea. Tell me why we’re doing it again?” Honora asked, sitting in an antique chair with her leg thrown over one of the carved wooden arms. She looked like a bored noble woman, if royalty wore tight black jeans and an irritated stare.

“Because I need to get another look around the woods where I found my best clue.” Vivi heaved boxes out of the way and positioned a worn velvet ottoman in the center of the rug.

“The bracelet. I get it, but you could ask Lance to take you back during the day. Kill two birds with one stone.” Honora propped her feet up on the ottoman and flashed her a sly grin.

“He’s cute and single.” There was a smudge on Clover’s nose.

“I know, but I don’t have time for handsome sheriffs right now. I’m more curious about the Darklander, as bad as that sounds. Something’s going on out there and I need to figure out what. Like you said, it’s probably nothing, but I want to know for sure.”

“If this keeps you from going to the Dire Woods alone, then I’ll do it. Don’t you ever do that again,” Honora said. “You could have been seriously hurt.”

Clover gave Honora a warning nudge with her bare foot. “We’re here to be supportive, not to lecture.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so harsh. I get upset because I love you. You’re the middle sister, the sweet creamy filling in the Mayhem sister cookie sandwich. We need you. You’re our center,” Honora said.

Vivi smiled. “You’re right, going out in the middle of the night in the Dire Woods was kind of stupid, but I took a risk and found my clue. Now I’ve got to keep pushing.”

“I don’t want to mess with a sinister wizard like the Darklander. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to protect his world,” Clover said.

“He knows something. I can feel it.” Not wanting to worry her sisters, Vivi kept the painful stinger spell from the Darklander a secret. She knew firsthand what he was capable of.

“Here we go.” Clover pulled an antique mirror out of the depths of the trunk. She blew dust off the surface and sneezed again. Many families passed down heirlooms like jewelry, clocks, or a set of china from generation to generation, but leave it to the Mayhem family to pass down a dangerous magical artifact with a dubious past.

Clover beamed. “I knew this bad boy was in here somewhere.”

A nosy aunt who loved to keep an eye on her neighbors had created the scrying mirror, which was a powerful magical tool used to see what was going on in another location. It was a little bit like spying. Or a lot like spying, depending on the witch’s intent. Vivi liked to think of using the mirror as magical snooping.

Honora wrinkled her nose. “I hate that thing.”

“I would think as a private investigator you would love using scrying mirrors,” Vivi said. She positioned the mirror on the ottoman.

“No way. I do surveillance the old-fashioned way, out in the open. Plus, I don’t like to get caught. That thing is going to cause a disturbance. We’re so getting busted.” Honora shook her head. “Scrying is easy. Doing it anonymously is the hard part.”

That was the downside of the scrying mirror—it exuded a magical signature, a pulse that could be detected. There was also the problem that scrying was technically illegal, since the Magical Privacy Act was issued about two decades earlier. The only reason they were allowed to keep the mirror was because it was created prior to the law and was a family heirloom, sort of a magical grandmother clause. Still, using the mirror was dangerous. That was why the thing was buried in Clover’s attic.

“We’ll be quick. Plus, it’s the woods. It’s not like we’re peeking in any windows or bedrooms. No one will see us.” Vivi wiped the dust from the surface of the milky glass. “It’s worth the risk.”

For the mirror to work it needed a reference—something taken from the place or person to be seen. The mirror homed in on the place and reflected the scene back. Their aunt might have been nosy, but she was also a smart spellcrafter.

Vivi opened a paper bag containing the reference material she’d brought with her from the woods. She hoped she’d been able to pick enough leaves and debris from her jacket and hair after sitting on the ground and fighting off the familiar the other night to activate the spell.

The three sisters sat cross-legged in a circle around the ottoman. Globes of illuma light cast eerie shadows across the rough-beamed ceiling. Clover gave Vivi an encouraging nod.

“Let’s do this,” Honora said.

Vivi scattered the leaves around the rim of the mirror’s surface. The sisters placed their fingers on the gilded edge and focused their attention. Vivi whispered the activation spell their grandmother had taught them as little girls. It was an old-fashioned witch’s rhyme.

Glass of light. Mirror of the night.

Show me what I wish to see,

The place these leaves used to be.

The mirror hummed to life, warming under their fingertips. It was like peering down into a frost-coated pond. Something moved under the crackling surface. Black clouds billowed across the glass. The smell of damp earth, leaf rot, and decay filled the attic. Vivi wrinkled her nose. Clouds parted and a scene appeared. Slender trees stood sentry in the Dire Woods. The night was quiet. The moon’s pale light filtered through the blackness.

They stared for minutes, saying nothing, watching. There was nothing to see—no movement, no one at all. Vivi focused, tried to see something, strained to sense the missing witch, but the woods were empty. She bit her bottom lip to fight the frustration, her own sense of failure.

What else could she do to make tonight a success?

What she really wanted was to see the Darklander and ask him a few probing questions about what was going on right outside his mansion, but he wasn’t wandering the woods or standing on his doorstep. He was probably locked up tight behind his heavy wooden door, the thick stone walls protecting him. She imagined the hideous creature he kept as a familiar perched on the back of his chair. It probably still had her blood under its claws.

Vivi had nothing of the Darklander’s to use as a reference to him.
Except...

She fingered the cut on her arm, wrapped under gauze. Her glance shifted between her two sisters.

Clover raised her brow. “What are you thinking?”

“Yeah, I don’t like that look,” Honora said.

“Could we use my blood?” Vivi asked, a spark of excitement flaring inside her. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total loss after all.

“What do you mean, your blood?” Clover drummed her fingers on her knee. She was wearing her favorite patchwork jeans and loose sweater. “We aren’t using blood.” Her lips pinched into a knot on her pretty face.

Vivi reached out and touched her sister’s hand. “There’s nothing in the woods. We need to see inside the Darklander’s mansion, and I don’t have anything of his, but his familiar slashed me with its claw. I’m sure it took some of my blood with it.” She rolled up the short sleeve of her T-shirt and examined the bandage.

“Blood magic? This is getting a little too dark for my taste.” Clover crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s not dark magic. My blood just happens to be a reference point,” Vivi justified. “It’s not the same and you both know it.”

“Okay, it’s not black magic, but it’s still insane,” Honora said, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. “You don’t go peering into the Darklander’s mansion like a witchy Peeping Tom. Do you have any idea what he would do if he caught us?”

“Why do you have to be so negative? Give it a chance. I’m running out of options.”

“Vivi, Honora has a point. He would take it as a sign of aggression.” Clover shifted her weight and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Dark wizards live for retaliation.”

“He already saw me in the woods. He knows I was there,” Vivi said, frustration building in her. “I’ve hit a wall, and he could know something.” She stood and spun in a small circle. “I have to help this girl before she ends up dead like Maynard. Don’t you both see that? I was the one who saw what happens to her. You’re both right, and under normal circumstances, I’d listen, but I’m getting desperate. I need you guys.”

Honora sighed. “Or you’ll do it on your own.”

Clover wiped the mirror clear of leaf debris with the edge of her already dusty sweater sleeve. “We can try. I don’t know if it will even work. Right now all we’re getting this mirror to show us are trees and more trees.”

“What did we expect? I told you this was a bad idea. That mirror is trouble,” Honora said.

“Zip it,” Vivi said. “I want to try.”

Honora was not going to scare her out of this. Vivi pulled her bandage back. The wound was healing nicely. All that was left of the cut was a thin red line, and now she would have to open it up again.

Clover handed her an antique letter opener and shrugged. “It’s all I have up here and I don’t want to haul my butt down and up those stairs again.”

Vivi took the knife and rested the dull edge against the wound.

“Oh, please.” Honora pulled a long thin blade out of her boot and handed it to her. “Here try this. That antique letter opener is so dull it wouldn’t open a
letter
.”

Vivi slid the blade into the wound with a wince. Blood blossomed against her pale skin. A thin red trail dripped down her arm and pooled onto the mirror’s surface. After she stanched the blood and readjusted the bandage, the three sisters placed their hands on the mirror and repeated the spell.

The glass trembled and shuddered. Then nothing.

“It’s searching for your blood out in the world,” Clover said in a loud stage whisper.

“I hope you haven’t used any blood in your potions.” Honora smiled. “That would be awkward if we ended up in a customer’s bathroom or bedroom.”

Her sister’s levity was comforting. “I don’t use blood,” Vivi said. “Until this second.”

A screeching sound filled the attic. Barnaby, Honora’s owl familiar, and Rumor were perched in the rafters and something had set them both off. Vivi jerked as the mirror shook beneath her fingers, and she had to clutch the edge to hold on. The glass surface bubbled with gray smoke and the smell of soot and ash filled the room.

The spell had worked.

It was like peering over the hunched shoulder of a gargoyle, staring down over its domain. They had found the beast. Vivi had been right. The familiar still carried her blood embedded under its claws, and from the view of the roofline they were seeing through the mirror, the creature was currently perched on the edge of the mansion’s gutter like a lookout, waiting and watching.

“What is that thing?” Clover asked. Her face scrunched in disgust. “Where did the Darklander find such a weird and creepy familiar?”

“I don’t think he found it. I think he bred it,” Vivi said with a cringe.

“Shh.” Honora pointed at the scene in the mirror. “Look, someone’s coming.”

A hover bike appeared out of the misty woods and pulled up to the mansion’s front door. The familiar was perched at an odd angle, so it was difficult for them to get a clear view of the rider. A wizard dressed in black dismounted the bike and pulled his helmet off, revealing shaggy dark hair and a strong stubbly jaw.

“Who is it?” Honora asked. Her silky dark hair fell like a tent over her head and shoulders, obscuring Vivi’s view of the mirror. “I can’t see his face.”

“Neither can we with your hair in the way,” Vivi said, sweeping Honora’s mane of hair off the glass. “His face is in the shadows.”

Suddenly, the view in the mirror shifted when the bat creature took flight on its leathery wings. It rose up into the night sky, expertly skirting tree limbs and circling the mansion once, twice, giving them a view of the gigantic house and grounds. There was an enclosed courtyard lit with torches and a twisted maze garden with a strange iron fountain in the center. There were also numerous adjoining buildings making up the compound—not to mention about a half-dozen black-hooded security wizards walking the grounds.