I laid Hemlock down in his favorite place behind the counter, still groggy but purring contentedly. Lila was delighted to see him, and he looked equally delighted to accept one of the special ear rubs she doled out to him like candy.
“The flowers were poisonous?” she said. “Who on earth sent them to you?”
“Not exactly poisonous,” I said, ignoring Lila’s last question. “Apparently lilies are toxic to cats. Just an unfortunate accident.”
It was too much to fit in my mind. I wouldn’t put it past Jackfort to send me something he knew would endanger my familiar. Hemlock had long hated him, and it was a mutual disdain. I was certain, though, that if Jackfort really did want to hurt him, he would make sure he did something much more specific, not rely on an off chance the cat would come into contact with otherwise harmless flowers. Still, there was nothing harmless about anything Rowan Jackfort was involved with. He didn’t deserve the benefit of anyone’s doubt.
He’s not watching you, I told myself again. It was starting to become a mantra, and I hoped I would soon start believing it.
A thought struck me like a sharp blow to the head. Kenny was my next-door neighbor. Targeting the people around me was precisely the sort of thing Jackfort would do, a way to torture me without directly hurting me. But killing an innocent man as a cryptic message? Surely that was beyond even Jackfort’s evil. Besides, if he had been spying on me, he would have seen that the two of us were not in the least bit close. If he were going to come after me by way of the relationships in my life, as he’d done with Hemlock, surely Lila would have been a better target than Kenny.
An anxious nausea washed through me.
“Are you alright?” Lila said. “I didn’t need to be knitting to feel your thoughts go super dark just then.”
I rubbed my palms over my face, pressing my fingers over my eyes, trying to calm myself. “I’m not sure I am alright, Lila,” I said. “This was supposed to be a perfect little town, a safe place to settle down.” A good place to hide and be alone, I added mentally. “And now it’s…”
I couldn’t think of enough words to describe the panic, the confusion threatening to overflow in me.
Lila placed her slender arm around my shoulders. “We’ll get to the bottom of it all,” she said. “We’re in this together, whatever it is. And there are others who can help too.”
The next day, after I couldn’t take any more of Lila’s harping on about this famous Adela, I made a trip to the Blackthorn Springs library on my lunch break.
The library was a newish building just behind Main Street. I hadn’t joined, having an entire bookstore at my disposal, but I had wandered past the building any number of times and kept meaning to pay it a proper visit to see what it was like.
Inside, it was warm and inviting, with soft lighting and plenty of cozy nooks for reading, like a library should be. The foyer was plastered with banners and pamphlets for local events. Classes, groups, petitions, the usual community affairs. I noted a colorful poster announcing the grand opening of the Blackthorn Springs hedge maze. There were only three weeks to go. Not much time to disarm a magical maze and find a killer, I thought.
I recognized Adela immediately, though we hadn’t actually met. She was tall, a full-figured woman with long hair in various shades of brown cascading in tumbles down to her curvaceous hips. She had large, round dark eyes the color of chocolate. Her skin was like milk. There was nothing blatantly supernatural looking about her, though I wasn’t sure what I should be looking for in a Naarin demon. Pointed ears? Scales? Wings? Horns?
Adela was busy at the counter, scanning a pile of books into the computer as she chatted with someone I did know: Henry.
Crap.
I ducked down a random aisle of books.
The thought that Henry could be cheating on his girlfriend was still too upsetting, and I certainly hadn’t forgotten the vibes coming off that lute. While I was avoiding him personally, I also didn’t want Henry to hear me asking any more questions about magic.
Pleased that Henry had apparently not seen me, I wandered to the back of the library through the reference section, running my fingers absently along the spines of books, trying to think of a way of approaching the librarian.
I found myself in the paranormal section. So, the Blackthorn Springs library had eleven entire shelves dedicated to the occult and paranormal studies. In any other small-town public library, this many books on the supernatural might seem strange, but after what I had learned about Blackthorn in the last few days, it was less surprising.
“Can I help you find anything in particular?” came a voice like velvet from behind me. I turned to find myself face-to-face and all too close to Adela Kristos. She peered at me intently, but a warm smile on her purple-painted lips relaxed me. A little.
“Just browsing,” I said.
“And you’re interested in esoteric fields?”
“It’s a casual interest, I guess you could say,” I said. I gave a strange giggle full of nervous energy.
“Belinda Drake, isn’t it?” Adela said, holding out a large hand. I shook it, embarrassed by my sweaty palms. “You can relax, Belinda. Lila and I are good friends. She’s told me about you.”
“She has?”
“Don’t worry, only the important things.”
“Those are the things I’m worried about the most,” I said. Adela laughed, a rich, musical sound.
“So, do a lot of people borrow these books?” I said, pointing to the shelves. My shop had its own selection of occult books, but I’d only ever seen a few tourists browsing there and had hardly sold any since I’d owned the place.
“Not many, and even less than before.”
“Before?”
“Before the internet. That’s where most people get their reference material from these days, isn’t it? And not just the paranormal fields. Since not many folks around here have home internet connections thanks to where we are, most come in here to look things up online. The reservation sheets are filled on most days.”
I had an idea.
“Can I get online now? I need to look something up.” My eyes flicked to the sign at the front about the maze festival. “About the maze. I’m on the committee.”
Adela nodded, a sage gesture with a glint in her eye that made me feel like the Naarin could see right through everything I said. Which, for all I knew of this kind of demon, she could have. “You’ve got the internet at home. Lila has told me about your online business.”
“Yes, but, um, it’s down. My computer is broken at the moment. That’s why I’m here.”
Adela’s eyes moved around my face, I felt like she was reading the lies all over me. She smirked. There was too much knowledge in her expression to feel comfortable with.
“Of course,” she said. She moved to the two computers at the front of the library, bending close and whispering something to the two users. They packed up their things and moved on without a fuss.
That had to be magic, I thought.
“Thanks,” I said, “but I only needed the one.”
“Now you have two, just in case.”
In case of what?
I sat down at the first console and typed in “mazes” for show. A few pages of results popped up instantly, nothing I needed to see or read. I had already done as much research as I needed to identify it as a ghost maze.
Adela was back to scanning her books, and when she was busy with a patron, I quickly opened up the computer’s search history. It was strange that in a public place, the history wasn’t cleared every day, but that was probably a technicality too advanced for the locals of Blackthorn Springs, even the supernaturals.
On the twenty-first page, I found what I was looking for. Months ago, someone had spent an hour searching for spells. Illnesses and cures. The search history then went into recipes for brownies made of zucchinis. Two hours later, another user, or perhaps it was the same one with eclectic tastes, had gone back to looking up spells, more cures, more illnesses, a calming potion, a spell for eternal youth, and a site called Black Harrows: Spells for Forming the Life You Want. Someone had also looked up maze designs.
Beside the computer consoles, there was a reservation sheet full of names. The pages went back months, and it was easy to find the dates corresponding to the browsing history. There were three names: Helen Jenkins, Edie Jacques, and Conri O’Farrell.
On my way out of the library, my head down in hopes the librarian wouldn’t see me, Adela called my name.
Not much slips by this woman, I thought. Maybe she did know everything, as Lila had said.
“I hope you don’t mind me speaking so frankly, but Lila told me you’re a novice witch, not having had a chance at any formal education in the craft.”
“I guess,” I said softly. I looked around, thankful there was no one close enough to have heard what she said.
Adela held out a book. It was a clothbound volume, dark green with silver gilt edges. Two black ribbons ran like strips of obsidian through the pages. The front title was gold embossed: Essential Spells. There was no author, no publication details.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the book. It was heavier than it looked, and it felt important. “I don’t have a library card, though,” I added.
“No, no, this one is from my personal collection. I’m lending it to you as a favor. You may keep it as long as you need.”
“Really?” I found it hard not to be both impressed and touched by the gesture. No magic book I’d ever encountered had the presence this one had, like the latent power of its spells was held within its physical weight.
“I have taken the liberty of marking two items in particular for you.” Adela nodded to the book, prompting me to look. I opened it to one of the page ribbons. Dearmo Praecantatio—a spell to disarm a charm.
“You’re on the maze committee after all,” she said. “I would say you might need that, and likely sooner would be better than later. The whole town is looking forward to the event. It would be a shame for it not to happen at all, or worse, for something to actually happen while it went ahead.”
“You know about the maze?” I squeaked.
Adela nodded.
“Then why haven’t you done anything about it? That thing is deadly.”
“It’s not my way,” Adela said.
“B…but—” I stammered.
Adela held her hands out in front of her, palms up. “I can only direct the knowledge of humans, not act directly on their events.”
“Is that a Naarin thing?” I said. I was annoyed someone could know something was so dangerous and let it slide, but I was also embarrassed by how little I knew about the supernatural community and hoped the question didn’t come off as rude.
“In a way,” Adela said.
I let it go and turned to the next marked page. Ostendo Praecantatio—a spell to make the traces of witchcraft visible.
“Is this for the maze too?”
“That one is more general purpose,” Adela said. “It won’t tell you what a spell was exactly. It will show if a magic force has passed through a person. Think of it as a spell residue.”
“How much exactly did Lila tell you?” I said. I closed the book and clutched it tight to my chest.
“Just the basics. You told me a lot yourself.”
“You can read minds? Like Lila?”
Adela laughed again. “No, most people tell their entire stories themselves. The way they hold their bodies, the way they talk, move, even breathe. It’s just another thing I love to read. And yours looks like it might be a most interesting tale. One day you can tell me the rest of your story, if you like. I’d especially love to know about that necklace of yours.”
I touched my fingers to my pendant. I felt vulnerable, and on the wrong end of a whole lot of things that everyone besides me seemed to understand.