The Whimsy Witch Who Wasn't (Tales of Xest Book 1) Read online

  “If she doesn’t want to be here, does she really have to stay? If she can’t do what is required, it would be kinder to send her back.”

  Oh yes, kindness. I wouldn’t knock her ploy aloud. Her hate could come in handy. She was an angle I hadn’t considered. I never thought me and Bel would be on the same page of anything.

  She walked over and laid her hand on his arm, and I swallowed down a strong desire to rip it off. It wasn’t about Hawk, obviously. I just didn’t like her.

  “You know I can’t,” Hawk said, his voice calm and patient, like he had all the time in the world.

  Who was this man?

  He walked away from Bel, heading toward the back room. A second later I heard, “Tippi,” when I didn’t come fast enough.

  I walked into the back room just as he tossed a book onto the table. “You know the drill.”

  Oh, yes. Too well.

  I reached under my shirt, taking off the coal necklace and placing it on the farthest shelf.

  I looked at the book for another couple of minutes before asking, “You’re sure you want to keep doing this?”

  “This is the easiest magic, so yes, this is probably the best way to continue.”

  He’d confused the actual question, or maybe not. Either way, I had the answer. He was in this for the long haul. I focused on the book, as I had the first time, and the time after that.

  A minute later, the teapot went flying across the room.

  I sighed. He might’ve sighed as well, but it was hard to hear over my own.

  “Try again,” he said.

  It might’ve been the steely determination in his eyes or the tone of voice that sounded as immovable as a mountain, but either way, we were going to be here a long while.

  17

  I looked up from my table and stacks of requests, watching Zab scribbling on one of the newsflash papers I’d picked up at the stationery store.

  He walked to the door and said, “Carry my message,” before flinging the folded paper into the air. The paper turned into a paper bird, beat its wings a few times, and then disappeared.

  He walked back and sat behind his desk.

  “What was that?” I asked, fascinated. I had to admit that some of the craziness that went on here was incredibly cool.

  “Had to call someone in for a job. Easiest way to get them here. That’ll track them down, and no one ignores a newsflash from the broker’s office.” He leaned back in his seat and nodded to my stacks. “How’s it going? Do you like what you’re doing?”

  “Oh, yeah, very entertaining.” I neatened my piles a little.

  “Okay, because you seem a little off, is all.”

  “I’m good.” I could’ve had a knife sticking out of my back, but as long as Belinda sat across the room, trying to listen to every word, no way was I complaining.

  Zab glanced at Belinda’s bent head and then back to me. “Come on,” he said, standing and grabbing some coins from the chest. “It’s slow. Let’s go grab a cocoa at the Sweet Shop.”

  If there was anything that might’ve been able to take the edge off, that Sweet Shop cocoa might’ve been it. Hawk had said not to leave the building, but he couldn’t possibly mean going across the street. I grabbed my jacket as Zab waited for me.

  The wind hit my skin, and it felt like I was going to get instant frostbite. It still felt warmer than the chill in the office.

  Zab didn’t waste any time questioning me. “So what’s wrong? Is it practice? I know it’s not going so well.”

  “It would be easier if that was the problem. I mean, don’t misunderstand me, practice is a mess—I’m a mess—but that’s not the thing that’s bothering me most. I have one friend I met here who’s stuck in a factory, which is sucking the life out of her, and I can’t do anything about it. I left another friend, who’s more like family, back home. She’s probably worried sick at this point, and I can’t do anything about that either. I just wish I could’ve given Loris word so she didn’t worry. I’m afraid she’s going to think I’m dead by now.”

  “I can’t do anything about your friend in the factory, but why don’t you write Loris a letter?”

  “I don’t think journaling is going to help right now.”

  “I don’t mean journaling. I mean write one and send it to her. You can send mail to Rest. We don’t get any back. It’s a one-way correspondence, but you can send it out. Well, except at Christmastime. Sometimes the miscellaneous letter to Santa comes through. We used to field the big items occasionally, but Hawk thought it wasn’t worth our time after a while. Now we just shred ’em if they end up here.”

  “I can get a letter to her?”

  “Yeah. We can do it today if you want.”

  I turned to run back to the office.

  “What about our cocoas?” Zab asked, still standing in the same place.

  This was going to be a tough letter. A little cocoa might help.

  Dear Loris,

  I’m sorry I disappeared, but…

  But what? I was kidnapped to Xest? A place most had never heard of? Was being held as an indentured servant to a warlock? Sorting slips from Helen, a huge machine that tapped into all the wishes in the world and monetized them? She’d think I was alive but off my rocker if I sent this.

  I tapped the pen on the table a few times, staring at the page. This was not a pen letter. This really called for a pencil for the first hundred drafts. I dropped the pen on the table and leaned back, groaning and running my hands through my hair before draining the last sip of cocoa.

  “What’s wrong?” Musso asked, his voice as gruff as ever. I’d begun to realize the gruffer it was, the worse he felt for you. Was everyone aware of my near-daily crash and burn?

  “She’s trying to write a letter to someone she’s worried about in Rest,” Zab explained, before I had to.

  “Oh,” Musso said. “That never goes well.” He followed those words of wisdom up with an ambiguous grunt and then walked back to his desk.

  I glanced at Zab. “I can’t begin to think of what to write. Everything sounds unbelievable. I’m trying to reassure her, but I feel like an idiot with nothing to say, and I’m the worst liar.”

  It was Belinda’s turn to huff from her corner of the office, obviously agreeing with the idiot part. She didn’t make any other noises, but her lips moved as she silently spoke to herself. As long as she kept it to herself, I didn’t care. She could think whatever she wanted, including that I was an idiot or the best liar out there.

  Zab sat on the corner of my table and bent over my paper, looking at the sparse words.

  “Okay, write this. ‘Dear Loris, I’m sorry I disappeared, but I received an emergency call in the middle of the night from a long-lost cousin who was in dire straits. As I have so little family, and none close, I felt the immediate need to rush to her side. I hope you received my earlier notice that I slid under the door of your shop. I wanted to follow up with this correspondence so you know how much it pains me that I had to leave you in such a predicament. As soon as my cousin is out of the woods, I shall return. Again, my gravest regrets about leaving you so suddenly.’”

  It took me a few more minutes to finish scribbling off Zab’s dictation. Nothing about it sounded like me. She might think my kidnapper had forced me to write it, but it was better than my blank page. Maybe if I added just a touch more?

  To make it up to you, I’ll do as many séances as you want when I return.

  I read it over again. At least that last bit sounded like me, but maybe…

  “Don’t overthink it,” Zab said, taking the note I’d signed. He put it in the envelope I’d already addressed and tucked it into his pocket, before grabbing his jacket.

  “What do I do about the return address?” I asked, putting on my jacket as well.

  “No need for that. Come on. Let’s get this off.”

  I followed him out of the shop. “What about postage?”

  “What’s postage?”

  “It’s w
hat we pay to have someone send our letter.”

  “Oh, we don’t have that here,” he said, weaving through people who seemed to be paying more attention to me than normal. That didn’t matter soon, as the building and people spread out farther and small houses popped up.

  “Where do we mail this? We’re leaving the town?” Town wasn’t that big, so it wasn’t that hard to leave. “Why isn’t the post office in town?”

  “There is no post office. There’s only a mailbox, and it’s not in town. It’s on the outskirts.”

  We continued to walk for another ten minutes until we came to a field. In the middle of it was a blue mailbox, or what used to be blue. Now it was more rust than paint. The snow around it was unmarked by footprints.

  He held the letter out to me.

  I took it and paused. “Just put it in there?”

  “Yes.” He waited.

  “But it doesn’t look like anyone comes to collect the mail from here.”

  “Because no one has mailed anything recently. Not too many of us have anyone in Rest to write letters to.”

  I looked at the mailbox again. I wasn’t getting Loris a note any other way, and it was already written. Not much point in holding on to it, even if it didn’t make it to her.

  “Go ahead. Put it in. They’ll collect it.” Zab pointed at the box.

  The handle took some effort, a cloud of dust and rust puffing as it was forced open. The letter slid inside.

  “That’s it?” Maybe there was some magical spell that might help things along?

  “Yep. Come on, let’s get back. You’re freezing, and a nice spot of tea will help that.” He nodded back toward the direction of the office.

  Giving the mailbox one last glance, I followed him. As soon as I did, there was the sound of crunching snow under someone else’s feet, and it was coming from behind us. I turned, trying to locate the person, but saw nothing. But the crunching continued.

  Off to the right, a shadow appeared on the snow as tracks pressed it down. More shadows appeared as the sound grew closer. The tracks became clearer as they walked toward the mailbox and then stopped.

  The bottom of the box swung open and my single letter dropped onto the ground. It was lifted, as if by air. It then descended a few inches before it disappeared again, right around the height where a sack might be. The crunching of snow underfoot began again as the steps retreated off in the direction they’d come.

  “Someone took my letter,” I said to Zab, who’d stopped a few feet ahead of me, waiting.

  “Yeah, I told you they would,” he said, waving me along.

  “This isn’t working,” I said. After mailing the letter to Loris earlier, I’d been a little more optimistic tonight. That had quickly come to an end.

  Both couches were turned on their sides, so I dropped to the ground, perching my elbow on my knee and running my hand through my hair. We’d been at it for four hours, and it showed. There wasn’t a piece of furniture still standing, and I felt like I’d been drawn and quartered. Failing at magic was very tiring.

  “At least you got that right,” Hawk said where he was leaning on an overturned couch, sipping a drink. I wasn’t sure what he’d poured, but it didn’t smell or look like coffee.

  I wasn’t sure if he was trying to be funny or just honest. It was the only thing I’d gotten right. It was as if my magic did the opposite of what I wanted. At one point, I’d even tried to tell it to do the opposite of what I wanted. It still hadn’t worked.

  Footsteps sounded from the office, which had been closed up long ago.

  “I asked Oscar to come. You met him the night I tested you,” Hawk said.

  Oscar walked into the back room and stopped inside the door, taking in the place that appeared to have been vandalized.

  “You weren’t kidding when you said things weren’t going well,” Oscar said.

  How many people had he told? It wasn’t a secret, but I didn’t want my failures broadcast, either.

  “I only told him and asked him here because he might be able to help give us fresh eyes on the problem. I trust him,” Hawk explained, as if he’d read my concerns.

  When had we switched over to looks instead of words? Of all the people in the world, I’d never had that kind of relationship with anyone, not even my mother. Yet Hawk knew my mind without me saying a word? And why was it a one-way deal? I couldn’t read his thoughts.

  “What exactly is happening?” Oscar asked, stepping over a broken table as he walked farther into the room. “Clearly the outcome is bad, but what’s happening to bring this about?”

  “No matter where I aim my magic, it goes somewhere else,” I said, wondering how I was going to clean up this mess later. It wasn’t like Hawk hung around and helped.

  “Do you mind?” Oscar asked. “I need to get a feel for what you’ve got working.”

  He held out his hand, as if to shake mine. I knew from Zab that this wasn’t done in Xest. It was done all the time in Rest, so I didn’t care.

  I went to take his hand, but Hawk said, “No. That won’t be needed. We both know it’s not how much magic she has.”

  Oscar dropped his hand. “Is she consistent?”

  “Very.”

  Oscar reached down, picked up a teacup that had managed to survive thus far, and placed it on the side of the couch. “Push this off the couch.”

  How many times was I going to have to fail today?

  “One more time,” Hawk said.

  I hated when he answered my unasked questions.

  I slumped, turning back to the cup. “It’s nothing personal, Oscar. It’s just the same thing we’ve done over and over.”

  I tried to throw the teacup off the couch, the last unbroken one in the room and my personal favorite. The only thing that made it better was my confidence that I wouldn’t break it. I flicked my wrist, and the table on the other side of the room lifted a few feet off the ground before dropping.

  “And you were focusing on the teacup?” Oscar asked.

  “Yes.” Clearly, Oscar had no answers either.

  “That’s so odd,” Oscar said.

  “So, no ideas?” Hawk asked.

  Oscar’s cheeks puffed out a bit as he blew out air. “None you don’t already know,” he said, rocking back on his heels.

  “I’m not looking to do that,” Hawk said.

  “But you might get answers.”

  “The idea alone irritates me.”

  Oscar shrugged. “I don’t have anything else, then.” He waved his hand toward me. “I’ve never seen this before.”

  “I’ll see you out,” Hawk said.

  Oscar tipped his head toward me before he left.

  I heard the door shut and waited to hear a single set of footsteps walking back. There weren’t any. He’d left me here with the mess alone again.

  The couches were flipped, and the table might’ve been broken. Smashed pottery and china. The bookcase was too heavy to lift alone.

  I moved to pick up a book, and had nowhere to put it. I let it drop to the ground with a thud. Maybe if Hawk had to deal with the mess, he’d realize his way wasn’t working out finally. Something I knew all too well.

  Screw it. He could deal with it for once.

  18

  I walked downstairs, fearing the dirty looks I’d get for trashing the back room and leaving it a mess. In hindsight, I wished I’d cleaned it up. A couple hours of cleaning wasn’t worth losing Zab and Musso’s friendship, but that option was gone. Now I’d have to suck it up and hope they took apologies better than Belinda.

  I paused at the door, feeling like I was about to start flapping my wings and squawking. Nothing to be done but to deal with it now.

  I walked in and braced myself. Zab greeted me with his usual smile, Musso with his normal grunt, and Belinda with her typical avoidance of my life form. I was still being acknowledged by two out of three. That was good. Maybe I could go clean it now and no harm done?

  I went into the back room and ever
ything was already back to order. This was so much worse. They’d cleaned it while I’d slept. Without bothering with my normal coffee, I walked back into the office, still stunned they’d smiled at me after cleaning up that mess.

  “I’m so sorry about the back room. Did it take you a while to clean?” I focused my attention on Musso and Zab because Belinda certainly hadn’t taken part.

  Zab leaned back in his chair. “What do you mean? We didn’t clean anything.”

  I turned to Musso. Unlikely, but it couldn’t have been Belinda.

  “I don’t clean,” he said, and went back to work.

  Could it have been Belinda? If she’d cleaned it, I was really going to have to apologize, even if she didn’t acknowledge me at all while I did it.

  I glanced her way. She stared back at me like she smelled rotten milk.

  Yeah, not her.

  “It was probably the cleaning crew,” Zab said. “Hawk must be paying them extra. They were leaving as we came in. I was wondering why they were grumbling so loudly and working so late.”

  “There’s a cleaning crew?” My mouth dropped open. How had I not figured that out? That was how my clothes kept getting cleaned. “And Hawk lets them? I thought he was weird about who was here overnight.”

  “They’re sprites. Totally different,” Zab said, as if I should realize this.

  “Then why did you help me clean the other day?” I asked.

  Belinda started laughing so hard that she nearly bent over. “You’ve been cleaning, you idiot?”

  I didn’t bother asking her why she’d had me clean the office. I knew that answer.

  Zab cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him. “I thought you liked doing that, being from Rest. I’ve heard that some Resters like to straighten up their homes. It’s a thing with them, nesting or something.”

  “Well, it’s good that there’s a cleaning crew.” I tried to sound as pleasant about it as possible. Hard to do when you found out you’d been killing yourself for nothing.