Page 28 of Magic Blooms
My mind shot back to the well-intentioned warnings from Gerry that morning. Art was now telling me numerous graphic details that I was certain I’d never be able to erase from my mind. And he did it with a gleeful joy, as though telling me all these things was a gift—one I should be overjoyed to accept.
Unfortunately, because I wanted him to keep telling me things about Karen, I just had to keep smiling and nodding and ignoring the fried catfish on my plate now that my appetite had been completely ruined by Art’s medical gossip.
After about three more stories—each more horrible than the last—Art was well and truly inebriated. He still showed no signs of slowing down, though.
During our meal, Joshua had gone from pointedly ignoring our guest to borderline hostility.
“So, Art, enough with the bull,” he interjected at last. “You know why we’re here. What happened with Karen?”
The older man sat back suddenly and blinked a few times as though trying to break through the haze in his mind. “The Harrison woman? Yeah, that’s a right awful mess.”
“A mess how?” I wanted to outright ask if it was ricin but worried that such a specific question would raise more than a few inquisitive brows.
Art waved a dismissive hand. “I mean she was a mess inside. But it’s Peach Plains. Who knows what caused it? I’m running toxicology on her blood work. Here’s hoping for something that science can explain.”
I took a deep gulp. “So you don’t think she died of natural causes?”
He scoffed and reached for his drink, but his aim was off. He chuckled and tried again, this time succeeding. “Oh no. Someone wanted that woman dead. Of this, I am certain.”
I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I knew we already suspected that someone had done this to Karen, but hearing it confirmed was still a blow. Who could have done such a thing?
And how much more help could I be? I didn't know anyone here. I didn't know what I was doing. Now that we'd gotten Art to talk about what caused Karen's death, our goal for this outing had officially been met. So what now?
“When was the last time a murder happened in Elyria?” asked Joshua, taking charge of the conversation once more.
Art let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know. Probably not since those academy people were fighting for access to the portals. But that was really more of a war than a murder…” He glanced at me and flinched, probably remembering he wasn’t supposed to talk about magical stuff in mixed company.
I had to suppress a smile as the poor man tried to fight through the fog in his mind to cover his tracks.
“I mean, I can’t think of any murders. Nope, not a one. I must be thinking of a show I saw on the television. With wars and portals and what not.” He simpered at me, clearly believing his last-minute save had thrown me off the scent.
I almost felt bad for him, but then he emptied another drink, and I lost every ounce of sympathy I had remaining.
“The real question you should be asking is why,” said Art as he started looking around for the waitress so he could order another.
“Do you have any guesses for the why?” I asked. Maybe Art could prove more useful to us than originally expected.
He sighed when he realized the waitress was nowhere to be found and he’d have to wait longer to force more whiskey and Coke down his throat. “Well, what else could it really be? If it was magic, then I suspect it had little to do with your Mrs. Harrison herself. Think about it, she was traveling alone. An easy target.”
“A target for what?” I asked, leaning so far forward in my seat, my chest was practically on top of my plate.
“A ritual, of course,” he told me with a hollow expression. “You know… Dark magic.”
twelve
A ritual.
Dark magic.
Here.
The drunk man’s words kept echoing through my mind as Joshua took care of the bill and we then bid Art goodnight. I had a lot of time to think—to worry—because Joshua had insisted on driving the other, very inebriated, man to his home
Nothing about my magic felt dark or malevolent, but I had to admit that I was also a new arrival here. Had I led someone else through the portal into this world? Or was it at least possible that I was somehow connected to the bad fortune that had befallen Fox’s End and one very unlucky guest?
Unfortunately, until I knew why I was here, I couldn’t rule anything out. But maybe this was a good thing. Not for poor Karen obviously, but the fact that something suspicious was going on this side of my homeland. Maybe, as Lorraine had conjectured, someone was playing with magic here, and that had pulled me through. My accidental arrival may have had nothing to do with me—or my homeland—at all.
Add to that my dawning realization of just how small and inconsequential I was back in Vilea, and having someone from Elyria be responsible for my untimely travel made all the more sense. No, there was no way it had been someone I’d known or trusted. No way someone had intentionally tried to banish me to a foreign world.
