Spooky Spindle Page 4

Pep was the first to realize what it was. When she did, she gasped and came to a halt. Given that her grandmother kept moving, so did the fire, and it didn’t take long for Pep to pick warmth over dramatics. She hurried after us.

  “What is it?” I asked my cousin.

  She was about to say something when Cookie interrupted her.

  “What do you think it looks like?” Cookie asked.

  We stopped in front of the thing on the ground and stood looking down at it. It was on our side of the gates, and it had obviously been placed there somehow. It probably came up to my waist. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen one in person before, but I was certain I’d never seen one that bright. It was clearly spelled.

  “That’s a spindle,” said Lark.

  “Is it supposed to be spinning?” I asked.

  Pep closed her eyes in consternation. If it were possible, Cookie went a shade whiter.

  “That is absolutely the last thing we want. Under no circumstances should you try to get this spindle to spin,” said Cookie.

  She looked so upset that I tried frantically to remember what a spindle meant in the witch world. I had been told a long time ago, but I hadn’t always paid that much attention to what I’d been taught.

  Pep, though, clearly knew what was happening. That was why she was so upset.

  “Shouldn’t you just tell us?” I asked.

  “I could do that, yes, if your lessons were that bad and unmemorable. I was rather hoping that since you are a Garbo witch I wouldn’t have to explain it all to you,” Cookie said.

  I stared at my grandmother. I had never seen her so concerned before.

  Then something came to me. I remembered exactly what a spindle meant.

  In the witching world, it meant something very specific.

  In the witching world, a spindle meant death.

  Chapter Six

  We stood staring at the spindle in a stunned silence, but not for long. Soon I heard the pounding of feet getting nearer, and when I glanced back over my shoulder I saw my mom running toward us with Meg right behind her. I figured the guys must still be busy helping Corey rearrange his barn lab, or else they would surely have been coming to investigate too. But it was probably for the best that they stay away anyhow, at least until we figured it out what was going on.

  For once my mother didn’t look angry, and she didn’t say anything to Cookie about the fire.

  “I want everyone to get inside. Get away from there. Now. Cookie, are you all right?” she said.

  Cookie shook herself a bit. It was the first time I had ever seen my grandmother really rattled.

  “I’ll be fine. At least I think I will,” she said. Involuntarily she took a step closer to the warm pet fire.

  “Jane, can you help your grandmother inside?” my mother said.

  That seemed to wake Cookie up a little bit. She hated nothing more than help. According to her, needing help with anything was one step away from an old folks home. That was why we randomly found her tottering up on high ladders and the like. She could always ask one of us for assistance, but by her lights that would be an awful admission of infirmity.

  “Don’t worry about me,” she said now. Then, turning to me she barked, “Let’s go,” and started marching back toward the mansion.

  Lark, Pep, and I followed quickly. I glanced back only once to see my mother and Meg standing near the spindle, both of them looking upset, clearly about to perform a spell. I wanted desperately to watch it, but a sharp tug on my arm forced me to turn around. Apparently Cookie didn’t want me to.

  The blast of warm air inside the house was comforting. We found Mr. Blacksmith and Steve waiting for us in the foyer.

  “Would you like some tea in the conservatory?” asked Mr. Blacksmith.

  “Do we use that room?” I frowned.

  “We do now,” said Steve. “Mr. Blacksmith is really shaping stuff up around here.”

  “Tea in the conservatory would be lovely,” said Pep. “We will be in shortly. Thank you.”

  The two supernaturals disappeared, Steve heading back to his cupboard and Mr. Blacksmith to the kitchen to prepare refreshments.

  Lark, Pep, and I crowded around the window, but after a few minutes I noticed that Cookie was just standing there, staring into the foyer fire. Before I could think what to say to her, Rose trotted into the foyer from upstairs.

  “What’s going on?” asked the cat.

  “We found a spindle,” I told her.

  “So?” she asked. “If I were to go into the attic I would find any number of things. Who would be interested in a bed frame?”

  “A spindle is serious. In our world, a spindle means death,” I said.

  “I’ve been saying that about the mice around here for years,” said Rose. She was trying to make jokes, but when she saw that they weren’t landing she glanced at Cookie, who was still staring off into space. “Is she all right?”

  “I have no idea,” I said.

  “They aren’t going to be able to move that spindle without me,” said Cookie.

  “Sure they are,” said Lark. “Mom is a very good witch. So is Jane’s mom. Just give them a chance.”

  Cookie gave her granddaughter a disgruntled look.

  We waited a few more minutes. Neither my mom nor Meg moved. The spindle was still clearly rooted to the spot we had found it in.

  “What do they have to do to move it?” I asked Cookie.

  She didn’t answer, but she made a move as if to head back outside.

  “You can’t go back out there,” I said stoutly. “You’re clearly in no condition to be helpful. Tell me what they have to do and I’ll do it.”

  Cookie looked ready to say no, but just then an especially strong gust of wind rattled the mansion. Even the fires in the grates looked like they were about to go out.

  Suddenly Cookie snapped out of her trance and burst to life. She suddenly had a lot to say.

  “You have to get them some beetroot. It has to be a deep red color. That’s important. Then you have to put it in a circle around the spindle. It should completely encircle the spindle. I don’t know where your mom is planning to put it, but under no circumstances should she bring it into the mansion. If she has to, she should put it in the greenhouse. It’s necessary to let light through to it, but just as necessary keep it out of the mansion itself. Also, you have to speak with the Fudge. He’s more of an expert on spindles than any of the rest of us. He’s going to charge you an exorbitant price to fix it. Haggle him down a bit. Under no circumstances should you pay for a golden unicorn. Do you understand me?” she said.

  My mouth was hanging open. Out of the side of my eye I could see that my cousins were also shocked.

  “I can’t say that I understand you word for word. However, if anybody offers me a unicorn, golden or otherwise, I’m pretty sure I’ll say no,” I said.

  “Actually, copper unicorns are very useful. More so for the desert I suppose,” Cookie said.

  “Got it,” I said.

  “Then what are you still standing here for?” she said.

  Without another word I turned and marched back outside. Without a fire to walk next to, it was bitingly cold. Even from a distance I could see Mom and Meg shivering.

  When I reached them, my mom turned to look at me and shook her head. “I told you to stay inside and help your grandmother.”

  “She doesn’t think you’ll be able to fix this without her. I told her she wasn’t allowed to come so she told me what I had to do. Okay?” I said. And then I repeated Cookie’s instructions about the beetroot.

  Meg swore softly under her breath. That more than anything else brought home the seriousness of the situation, because we hardly ever heard her use language like that. She didn’t think that kind of thing should come out of a lady’s mouth.

  “Of course that’s what we need. I’ll be right back,” she said.

  My aunt hurried away. This wasn’t the sort of thing you could conjure out of thin air, and besides, with
wind this strong it was likely to be blown around uncontrollably if you tried.

  My mom and I had a few minutes alone while we waited for Meg to come back. As usual, I had to hope it didn’t end in a fight.

  “Thanks for asking your grandmother what we needed to do. I would never have thought of beetroot, but it’s exactly the right thing. I suppose she also had a suggestion about where we should take the spindle,” said Mom.

  “She says the greenhouse. I think she thinks the light tomorrow will lessen its power. She says under no circumstances should you bring it into the mansion.” I was going to take advantage of my mother listening to me for as long as it was happening. I figured it was a matter of seconds.

  “We weren’t about to bring it inside the mansion,” she said. “But we did think throwing it over the cliff might be a good idea.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not. Given that it was my mother, there was a decent chance she wasn’t.

  “There’s some work stuff of yours that we need to discuss tomorrow. If you’re around, of course,” she said.

  “Sounds good. Cookie also wants me to talk to the Fudge about this,” I said. Fudgy Bail was the mastermind of the Down Below gang. I had had dealings with him before, and for some reason he and I got along reasonably well, a factor that had played a role in Mom’s decision to appoint me to the role of liaison with the basement crew.

  Mom nodded. “Whatever the two of you think is best.”

  I was surprised whenever my mom gave me the autonomy to do my own job at the haunted house. I knew it was hard for her to do that, so I was always appreciative, especially because she didn’t really trust Cookie to have the sense a witch gave a rock. But in this instance she didn’t really have a choice.

  Just then my aunt raced up clutching an armful of beetroot. Quickly she and my mom laid it around the spindle. While they were doing that I had my first real opportunity to look at the object itself.

  I hadn’t realized just how beautiful it was; I had never seen anything like it. It was of an intricate design, and it looked like it would spin perfectly. The spokes appeared to be made of ivory. Given that it was surrounded by a blue light, the ivory was a pale blue, like an early morning sky. I wasn’t sure how something that beautiful could be so terrible. It was the first thing I had ever seen that had truly terrified my grandmother. Now I wondered who had brought it here. Somehow they had managed to get over the mansion’s fence, which shouldn’t have been possible, or at least not without our getting some notice of the intrusion. That was no small feat, and that realization was my first start on the road to truly grasping what a serious situation we were in.

  Cookie had hoped that the fence would keep out all unwanted guests. Apparently she might not have allowed for unwanted spindles. The gargoyles hadn’t reacted at all to the spindle, probably because unlike an assassin, it wouldn’t appear to them as a threat. Now, while looking at the spindle’s sharp point, I was starting to think that it might be the biggest threat yet.

  Someone at Haunted Bluff Mansion was in trouble. His or her life was in danger. No one was dead, but if we didn’t act, and act effectively, somebody would be soon.

  Another gust of wind blew.

  I shivered.

  It took a long time to get the magical spindle into the greenhouse. Wanting to be careful, my mother moved slowly. To make matters worse, we had an audience; many of the supernaturals had come out to watch us. The ghosts looked concerned. The vampires looked judgmental. Many of the skeletons got bored and started chasing each other around. Skeletons were easily bored. Erica, the leader of the skeletons, finally came out and herded the others away.

  None of the supernaturals offered to help us out. It was clear that they were starting to think of the haunted house as a mess.

  Given everything that had gone wrong at the mansion recently, the supernaturals would start to leave if we Garbos didn’t figure out a way to settle things down. For the most part, the supernaturals worked out of the haunted house, both because they enjoyed it and because it was a way to stay out of trouble. If there was more trouble at the mansion than anywhere else, that took away one of their major reasons for being there..

  Worse than just leaving, they might move Down Below. Trouble abounded there, too, but if the Fudge promised them enough, who knows whether or how they might turn against us. We had spent many years cultivating a good relationship with the supernaturals, and I could only hope that it would last for years to come.

  How we were going to achieve that was a separate question.

  When we came around back to the greenhouse, I saw an upper-level window open, with Cookie’s head sticking out of it. Behind her I saw two figures, shrouded in darkness, who were trying to pull her back in. I was pretty sure she managed to spit out the window before it was snapped shut again.

  Even though my mother didn’t want me touching the spindle, I walked with them the entire way.

  As my mother and Meg went into the greenhouse, Jezebel strolled up to me. Jezebel was a friendly ghost that my family had taken to, and apparently the only supernatural brave enough to come over and chat.

  “Spindles are bad for witches,” she said.

  “So I understand,” I said.

  “I figured you knew. The Root of All Evil really has it out for you, don’t they?” she said.

  “What makes you think it’s that?” I said.

  “I thought one evil supernatural organization hating you was bad enough. Given that you already had Down Below, the Root makes two. I figure three is one too many for credibility, ergo it must be the Root that sent the spindle,” she winked.

  “That’s a good point,” I said.

  “There’s no reason to be greedy,” she said with a smile.

  “Did you see anything strange tonight?” I asked.

  “I saw that blind cousin of yours trying to fly a broom,” she said.

  “Is that you trying to say there’s a lot of strange stuff going on around here?” I said.

  “Maybe, but that spectacle was stranger than most,” she said.

  “You saw nothing by the gate?” I said.

  “I can’t say I saw anything like that,” she said.

  “It was worth a try,” I said.

  “I’m sure you’ll get to the bottom of it. You always do. At least being a ghost I don’t have to worry about the cold anymore,” she said as she started floating slowly away.

  Whenever I spoke to the ghosts I was reminded of Gus. I shivered and felt sad, and it wasn’t t all because of the cold weather. Gus was a fun-loving, mischievous ghost who had disappeared because of the Root of All Evil. It was at times like these that I missed him terribly.

  Stealth mode was not something I took lightly. Despite the fact that I lived in a huge mansion, it was hard to get anything done without someone else knowing. Pep had solved that problem in her own way. She ran the Enchanted Bits and Bobs gift shop, and she could often be found in the early morning trying to get work done there. She also spent a lot of time reading gossip magazines in the office, the one place where she knew she could have some privacy.

  I didn’t yet have a place where I knew I could have some privacy. Even worse, my current goal was to sneak into the library, which was even more heavily guarded by my nosy family than most of the public rooms in the mansion.

  My best bet was to attempt to sneak in before breakfast. Most of the family would still be in their rooms, and once they left they usually headed straight to breakfast. With that in mind I had volunteered to stoke the wood stoves and fireplaces in the morning so I wouldn’t be at risk of running into anyone else adding logs to the fires.

  The way I planned to sneak into the library was to enlist Rose’s help. If she trotted in front of me, she could let me know if I was about to run into my mother or one of the guys, so I was less likely to get caught. I didn’t want them catching me in the library looking into subjects to which I wasn’t supposed to be paying any attention.

  Beca
use of the flying and then the spindle, we had been out unusually late the night before. I hadn’t even bothered to notice what time it was when I finally went to bed. All I knew was that I woke up way too soon.

  Still, I was highly motivated. There was a spindle in our greenhouse shining like a bright light. Despite all our precautions, someone had managed to place it on the property, and it meant death. As a professional investigator I had my work cut out for me, and it started with finding out everything I possibly could about spindles.

  But first, I had to stay warm. There was no point in being a freezing cold investigator.

  I put on several layers of clothing, including three shirts with long sleeves. I finished off the effect with an old wool sweater that had belonged to my father. Given that Grant had said he had work today, I wasn’t at risk of running into him when I looked ridiculous.

  Not that there was anything wrong with a good wool sweater. It was just that I basically swam in this one. It fit me a little better than it might have because of all the layers I was wearing underneath it, but even so, Lizzie would never have approved of my fashion choices.

  The thought of Lizzie made me wonder vaguely whether she would even remember our conversation from the night before, but if she did, I could only hope she didn’t have most of the ingredients for a love potion. I made a mental note to gather the ingredients we had at the estate and hide them from her.

  “You look like you stole a comforter and sewed it to make a sweater. It’s not a good look,” said Rose, trotting up with an eager early morning attitude.

  “Thanks so much. We have to get to the library. Can you act as a lookout?” I said, ignoring her fashion commentary.

  “I suppose I could. Are there cat treats involved?” she said.

  “I don’t have any treats,” I said.

  “I’m sorry. Maybe you misheard me. I said cheese,” she said.

  “Cheese I can do,” I sighed.

  We left my attic and made our way down the stairs.

  I shared the attic with a ghost, but I had seen no sign of her the night before. If I were lucky, maybe she had gone away to torment someone else.