Rhinestone Way Read online

  My grandmother glared up at me. “Where were you?”

  Lowe and I exchanged books. We hadn’t discussed this portion of the evening. To lie or not to lie. Apparently in Twinkleford that was always the question.

  “Don’t lie to me,” Bethel warned.

  She can read our minds as well!

  “We went to see Michael Fieldcorn. He’s an owl feather trader in the Bleak Area,” said Lowe.

  My grandmother stopped chopping. Whatever she had expected us to say, it wasn’t that. For a split second I thought she was less angry than I had expected her to be. At least we had caught her off guard, the first line of defense. Keep her moving and keep her footing unsure.

  She resumed her chopping and asked, “And what exactly were you doing there?”

  “We had it in our heads to find out about owl trading,” said Lowe.

  “How very interesting and enterprising of you,” said my grandmother dryly.

  “We thought so,” said Lowe.

  “How is Mike?” she asked.

  “We don’t really have a frame of reference. He seemed fine, though. About the only one around here who isn’t worried about the Vixens,” I said.

  My grandmother threw her head back and cackled. “Of course he isn’t worried about them. He would have to leave his property for them to be a danger to him. I don’t think he intends to do that any time soon.”

  “Why would he have to do that to be in danger?” I asked.

  Bethel took the onions and threw them into a large pot on top of the kale that was already in there.

  “He would have to do that to be in danger because of how well protected his house is. His father buried feathers everywhere. His grandfather before him buried feathers. The most dangerous sort. If Michael’s home is ever attacked, the attacker had better be very careful. I can’t possibly imagine that it’s worth the risk of layers of generations of magic and potions. His house is as well defended as any in the entire town. You’d have to be crazy to try and attack his owls,” she said.

  “So how does he know when friends show up?” Lowe wondered.

  “I can’t imagine that he has any,” Bethel shrugged.

  “Can you tell us more about the pearl trade in Twinkleford?” I asked.

  Without looking up from her dinner preparations, my grandmother said, “No. I cannot. If you want to know more about something like that you’ll have to do a crystal ball reading yourself.”

  I would have thought she might direct me to the library, or maybe even a newspaper archive. Instead, she was directing me to do magic. Unsurprisingly, as a new witch, this was not a direction I had thought of going.

  “I don’t have a crystal ball,” I pointed out, hoping this reminder would get her to just tell us something. We had already had a very long day. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could make it. All I wanted was to sit back and hear a nice story about illegal potion ingredients.

  Yes, times had changed.

  But my grandmother had no intention of being helpful. “There are some extra crystal balls in attic that you can use,” she said.

  Across the table I saw my cousin’s face pale. She dropped her spoon and looked up at Bethel’s back.

  “I don’t think I’ve been up there just yet,” I said, frowning at my cousin. What was her problem?

  “The staircase by your bedroom should do the trick,” said my grandmother, with a finality that told me the conversation was at an end.

  “Okay,” I said. Bethel continued to make dinner.

  After dinner I made my way upstairs, but instead of stopping at my bedroom I continued down the hall.

  Why I thought it would be a good idea to go into the attic in the dead of night I didn’t know. I had always had mixed feelings about attics. I didn’t mind one that was new and shiny and had been turned into a game room, like the one at my dad’s house. Attics that were old and cramped were a different story.

  The back stairwell was so narrow that the door looked more like it led to a closet than to another level of the house. I had opened it once before, looking for a fresh towel, but when I’d seen the dark abyss of the old wooden staircase beyond the door, I had quickly shut the door with a loud creak.

  The one good thing about living in such a house, and walking up such an old staircase, was that everybody knew I was coming. Whatever mice were in the attic were duly warned to watch out. Also, the noises meant that nobody would be able to sneak up on me if I was up there by myself. I’d know someone was coming from a mile away.

  At the turn of the stairs was another door. This one was a bit wider, though it didn’t appear to fit the space terribly well; there was a six inch gap between the door and the floor. In other words, plenty of room for anything to crawl through.

  I was already getting the creeps. Walking through a cemetery was bad, but this was almost worse. On top of everything else there were cobwebs hanging from every available surface. So far this town had seemed blissfully empty of spiders, but the feeling that my spider-free life would be over once I went into this attic made my feet climb more slowly. All the spiders in Twinkleford were probably having web-making parties in Bethel’s attic as I inched closer.

  I pushed the door open and saw a black room beyond. Steeling myself and hoping that the spiders had already run away, I ran my hand against the wall. Rough old wood met my fingertips. I kept feeling, trying to be careful not to get a splinter, which would have been the last thing I needed.

  I found a switch at last and quickly turned on the overhead light. This too was old, its cover caked in a film of grime and dust that made the light dimmer than it should have been.

  The attic smelled like any very old house smells. The air was filled with dust, and in this one an extra level of musk met my nostrils. The ceiling sloped and looked creepy. Cobwebs hung from the beams, the spiders probably just out of sight, waiting to drop.

  This was exactly the kind of attic I hated most, old, creepy, empty in a weird way despite being filled with mysterious boxes. Nobody spent any time up here. All that happened was that somebody came up the old stairs to leave another box and then went back down again. I felt like little critters could easily decide it was their home, and from then on they’d be lurking behind the many stacks of boxes that covered the floor.

  Really, there were probably more mice in this attic than there were in the entire rest of the house combined. I wondered if I was supposed to bring them a cheese offering to get them to let me pass. Where was Spunk when I needed his initiative?

  Knowing that I was being unreasonable, I still kept a close eye on my ankles. Just in case.

  “Need any help?” a voice asked from behind me.

  I screamed.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lowe had come scampering up the stairs, but I’d been so absorbed in the creepiness that I hadn’t even heard the creakiness. Eyes wide and staring, I pulled myself together as best I could, reminding myself that she lived in the house too. She had every right to be there and scare the bejesus out of me.

  Lowe looked around and said, “That expression on your face, anyone would think you’d just seen a Vixen.”

  “This is almost worse,” I said.

  She looked confused.

  “I hate creepy old attics,” I murmured.

  “I don’t think anyone really likes them,” she acknowledged. “Besides, there are generations’ worth of stuff up here, and I’m sure no one knows what might actually be lurking in these boxes.”

  It was a bigger space than I’d have thought the house could offer. Despite the sloped roof, there was still plenty of room for boxes, stacks of old games, old bedding, stuffed animals, and countless other things that would have been part of the household over the years. My stepmother Blossom would have thrown it all away. She wasn’t the sentimental type, and she had no use for memories unless they were going to get her to her hair appointment on Friday.

  I had a feeling that Blossom had made an exception for Bailey’s wedding mem
entos. I could see the spacious, imposing, impersonal living room in my dad’s house in my mind’s eye. By now Blossom had probably covered every spare inch with memorabilia from Bailey’s big day. I shuddered.

  Back to the present, though. In all of this mess, there was one thing I wasn’t seeing. I hadn’t moved very far from the door for fear of critters, but I could see most of the stuff from the doorway.

  “Where are the crystal balls? Maybe in boxes under other boxes?” I asked.

  Nothing was labeled or organized. This was going to take forever.

  When Lowe didn’t answer, I glanced back to find her looking upward.

  “Do you know where the crystal balls are?” I said.

  She glanced at me and nodded. “Actually, I do.” She pointed upwards.

  My eyes followed where she was pointing. All I saw was the ceiling.

  “On the roof?” I asked, bewildered. This place was strange, but I hadn’t noticed a lot of globes glimmering on the shingles.

  “The crawl space. Bethel put all the important magic stuff up there,” Lowe explained.

  My mouth dropped open. “Thieves definitely won’t make it up there. If I go up there I might not make it down. Is the woman mad?”

  “Maybe, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. She wanted to hide all the supplies. She has always thought that the Rhinestones could be in trouble if the Council decides to pick a fight with us. We control the unicorns, but that only goes so far. Gran never wants to be caught napping, so to speak,” Lowe explained.

  “Right. I see,” I lied. I didn’t see at all. There was no scenario where I thought it was acceptable to stick anything in a crawl space that I would have to then retrieve. It was as if Bethel knew, I thought bitterly.

  Where was Ethel when I needed her? My sister was still in hiding, and I couldn’t help but wonder where. She was never around for long enough so that I could figure it out.

  “Okay, let’s get this horrible day over with as quickly as possible,” I grumbled.

  Lowe made her way to the wall. Through the gloom I saw a ladder, rough and unsafe-looking, nailed into the boards. I glared at the ceiling again. If we climbed up several rungs, we’d be able to grab a string and pull a trapdoor open.

  “Hey, mice! We’re coming up! Get off the trap door! Please,” I yelled.

  Lowe turned around and gave me a bemused look. “You’re pathetic.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I know.”

  She climbed up the ladder and pulled open the trapdoor. I stood back just in case. Cobweb was not my color.

  The door swung down easily, and once again all I could see was inky night. Lowe just kept going up the ladder, brave girl that she was.

  “Can you just get it for me?” I called after her.

  Then from somewhere up above, with ceiling slats between us, she called, “No. You have to pick which one you want.”

  Sighing heavily, I climbed up the ladder. Lowe had grabbed a very small crystal ball, maybe the size of a golf ball, and squeezed it. Now white light was pouring out of it. Other than the poor lighting from below, that was our only illumination.

  “Wow,” I breathed. Climbing up here had almost been worth it. There were crystal balls tucked into every corner, plus several smaller cauldrons, and even packets and small boxes of labeled ingredients. At the far end of the space was a row of shelves. Even from the doorway I could smell the cedar set out to repel moths. Hanging around the very low ceiling were charms. I had never seen so many.

  “Bethel takes keeping this stuff safe seriously,” murmured Lowe. She was crouched in front of me, half turned away and looking at the crystal balls. “I can’t wait until I can choose some of it as my own. It’s going to be a splendid day.”

  “I thought she said there were cauldrons in the basement?” I wondered.

  “I think the bigger ones are down there. Bart probably helped take that stuff down years ago,” said Lowe.

  “Who’s Bart?” I asked.

  Lowe scrunched up her face. “One of Bethel’s boyfriends? I think? They’re hard to keep straight.”

  “Current boyfriends?” I sputtered. The idea that Bethel dated was strange enough, but that she was dating multiple people at a time was even weirder.

  “No, she says she gave up all that sort of thing years ago. Not that she’s too old, but that they’re too young, or something like that. She’s kind of hard to follow when she gets that way,” said Lowe sadly.

  Just then a shadow moved in the corner and I squealed. “Okay. Right. No more talking about this right now. I’ll pick out a crystal ball and be done with it. Does it matter which one I pick?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Lowe. “If Bethel had cared, I’m sure she would have said something. She’s not exactly the shy and retiring type.”

  There were at least ten dusty crystal balls pressed up against the wall, and I rather liked the idea of getting to pick my own from among them. That would make the whole process more personal.

  The first one looked too big and heavy. The second one was small. I was used to crystal balls about the size of my head or larger, and this one was about the size of Tiger’s head. The next two just didn’t feel right.

  When I got to the fifth one, though, I was utterly captivated. Even though it hadn’t been touched in years, there was a deep purple burning underneath the surface. On a bright blue slab, all the other balls had been dull silver. This one positively glowed. Without thinking, I reached out my hand to touch it.

  Dimly I heard Lowe tell me to be careful, but it was too late.

  Just as my hands closed around the crystal ball, the purple swirls cleared. I was transported somewhere else, to see something else.

  A young man with brown hair was dashing through dark woods. I could tell that he was tired because he kept stumbling. As his legs planted with each step, I saw his knees wobble, but he kept on pushing forward. He was tall and maybe a couple of years older than I was. Night was falling and he kept looking back over his shoulder. At a moment when he looked back, I saw him yell something I couldn’t hear. He appeared to be pleading or begging. If only I could turn the sound on!

  The young man turned back around and tried to run forward again. This time he nearly slammed into a tree. Again he stumbled and again he regained his balance. It was almost as if I was the one following him. I remained at a safe distance, but it felt like I was getting a bit closer.

  Lowe grabbed my shoulder and pulled me out of the crystal ball. The purple was still burning through the glass, spilling over my hands and lighting up the room. Lowe’s little globe light paled in comparison.

  My cousin was turned a very funny color by the magic inside the ball.

  “What happened? What did you see? That was fast,” she said. “I figured you’d wait until we were downstairs.”

  I was breathing hard as I tried to focus on her face. What I had seen in the reading I still couldn’t get out of my head. It was as if I had been in the woods and not in the attic of my grandmother’s little house. Real crystal ball readings were intense like that.

  Now I knew. “I think I saw Kyle. He’s alive.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The next day Kelly came through on a meeting place. Jackie’s brother Robin had a restaurant where we had eaten once before, where the food was delicious. Kelly suggested we go there again. Lowe and I agreed. I’d liked the warm atmosphere and the way everyone acted like we were family. I had also liked the food.

  Jackie’s mother had forced her into an internship at the mayor’s office, so Jackie had suddenly become very busy and couldn’t join us for lunch. We were disappointed, but Lowe pointed out that there was a silver lining. It couldn’t hurt to have contacts in the mayor’s office in case our snooping needed town records or other information we couldn’t get any other way.

  I supported Lowe’s nefarious and opportunistic way of thinking. We were family, after all.

  Robin’s restaurant was quiet when we arrived. We took a tabl
e in the corner, where no one would be able to overhear us.

  Lowe looked around desperately as we sat down. Watching her in some bemusement, Kelly finally said, “I don’t think Gill’s working today.”

  Lowe slumped down in disappointment. She had a massive crush on her high school classmate, and she had obviously been hoping that he’d be waiting tables, as he often did.

  “What now?” Kelly asked after we’d ordered. On the walk over, Lowe and I had agreed that we wouldn’t tell Kelly what I’d seen in the purple crystal ball. Bethel had been out when I’d come downstairs that morning, so I had simply left the crystal ball on the table for her approval without getting a chance to talk to her about it.

  The reason we didn’t want to tell Kelly was because I wasn’t a hundred percent certain that the guy I’d seen in the crystal ball was Kyle. Kelly would only be upset, possibly unnecessarily, if she heard the tale without any way to act on what the crystal ball had shown.

  “We need to talk to someone who knows a lot about potions,” I said.

  Kelly thought for a minute as she tore pieces of bread off her roll and dipped them in herbs and olive oil.

  “Professor Burger might be able to help. I think she’s still in town, and August is a quiet month. She’s at the university,” said Kelly.

  “She wouldn’t want to see us,” I demurred.

  Twinkleford University was big and getting bigger. The founders had wanted room to sprawl, so they’d found a site on the outskirts of the town. Research was important, even in a town like Twinkleford.

  “Someone like Burger is passionate about her work and probably likes talking about it,” Lowe pointed out.

  Kelly was looking at me pleadingly. Try as I might to avoid her eyes, I had to meet her gaze in the end.

  “Please,” she said. “My brother’s life hangs in the balance. Whatever was being traded, it was for a potion, possibly a deadly one. Professor Burger is the local expert on potions. She knows all of them, so she’s got to be the best witch we can possibly find to ask about them.”

  I nodded and agreed, and Kelly looked relieved.