Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
T he bell rang out over the door to Broomstix and Stella, who was dishing out pellets to Alice in the back room, heard Jade exclaim, “Um… hi? ”
It was an odd way to greet a customer. So odd, in fact, that Stella left the back room without giving Alice her typical scratch between the wings. Alice clucked disapprovingly.
A multi-layered, cool yet dusty scent of ancient magic filtered through the store and hit Stella’s nose, and when she saw what had inspired Jade’s less than gracious welcome, her whole body gave a start.
Izzy, too, had risen from one of the reading chairs.
Goodwife Joan Wright—the tiny, withered, four-hundred-year-old, backstabbing witch—stood in the middle of the store. She wore an oversized, tattered coat, and she surveyed Stella’s wares with disdainful pale blue eyes.
The bell rang again, and Hawk and Abby appeared.
“Sorry,” Hawk said. “I had to park up the block. Didn’t want Joanie to have to walk.”
“I’m old. Not dead,” Goody Joan said in a dry, wispy voice that snapped like a twig. “Though ’tis not to say I discourage such courtesies.”
“Joanie?” Izzy asked. “You mean… you’re Goody Joan Wright?”
“Precisely,” Goody Joan said. She tucked a lock of her long, frizzy, mostly black hair behind her ear.
Precisely , Stella thought. Once upon a time, Goody Joan had tipped off the entire Salem coven to Stella and Ethan’s location where they’d been attacked. These days, no one wanted to acknowledge that sordid piece of recent history. But Stella always had the hardest time letting go of a grudge.
“What are you all doing here?” Stella asked, her tone far from conciliatory.
Surprisingly, Goody Joan smiled at that, and her cheeks creased into dozens of soft folds.
“Abby got a letter from Frannie Piedmont,” Hawk said.
“Frannie?” Stella rocked back on her heels while doing a quick calculation. Frannie would have to be one-hundred-and-fifty years old by now. “How on earth?”
“Delayed delivery,” Abby said, “but she sent news.”
“About the Collector,” Stella said because what else could it be? “Is she all right?”
“Fine,” Abby said excitedly. “But she thinks she knows where he is in 1930.”
“Let’s hear it,” Jade said, stepping out from behind the counter and drawing close to Izzy’s side.
“She thinks he’s living in your old house,” Abby said.
“What?” Stella asked.
“The one on Washington Square. And he’s going by the name Simon Ford.”
“The kid from the farmhouse,” Stella murmured.
“Exactly.” Abby beamed.
Hawk stepped forward. “She says the Collector has a secret room in the house that none of his servants are allowed to enter. We think he might have another laboratory there. Or worse.”
Stella shook her head while keeping an eye on Goody Joan. None of this explained the old witch’s presence in her store. Roman had suggested her help, but she hadn’t agreed to accept. “That house doesn’t have any secret rooms.”
“Yeah,” Jade said, “I don’t remember anything like that either.”
“You were young when you lived there,” Hawk asked. “Were you looking for secret rooms?”
“Fair point,” Jade said.
“Or maybe it was only secret in the 1930s?” Abby offered.
“So, what are you suggesting?” Stella asked.
“That we go check it out,” Hawk said.
“You want to go back to 1930?” Stella asked. “Now?”
“No,” Hawk said. “Not yet. We want to search the house first and see if there’s any more evidence to find. I brought Joan along because she’s good at magical digging. If there was something dark going on there, even a hundred years ago, she’ll fish it out.”
“You didn’t need to bring her,” Stella said. “I can smell magic. Remember? I could detect Abby’s scent in that pit even with centuries between us.”
“Yes,” Hawk said, “but Joanie can tell more than the type of magic. She can tell whose magic it is. Since finding that witch board, it’s possible the Collector has hidden other things here and there, things that might help us defeat him.”
“Witch board?” Goody Joan asked, her eyes widening.
“The witch board hasn’t helped us with anything,” Stella said bitterly.
“Pray what witch board?” Goody Joan pressed.
“Show her,” Jade said.
Stella clamped her lips together and considered that. They’d struck out with Catherine summoning her mother for helpful information, but Goody Joan was also a prophetic witch. She might have some insight into how to use the witch board, or have a workable theory on why it was hidden.
But Stella was resistant to showing too much of her hand.
“Go on,” Jade urged.
Stella still hesitated, then, catching Hawk’s quizzical expression, let out a groan and went behind the sales counter where she’d hidden the artifact. He was right. They needed answers. Regardless of where they might come from.
“ Hmmm ,” Joan said as she approached. “What have you learned so far?”
“Nothing,” Stella said. “We summoned my mother, but?—”
Goody Joan looked up in alarm, facing Stella across the counter with the witch board between them. “You summoned your mother? ’Twas terribly reckless.”
“Not me,” Stella said. “I didn’t do it. Ethan’s mother summoned her, and our friend Jun asked the questions. We wanted to ask her why the Collector might have hidden it.”
“Who is this Collector you both mention?” Goody Joan narrowed her pale blue eyes on the board and dragged her finger around the random numbers that ran along its four edges.
“My father,” Stella explained.
“ Hmmm ,” Goody Joan said again, and this time she stroked the center of the board with her withered hand.
“Joanie,” Hawk said. “What do you know about it?”
She looked up at Hawk, then slid her keen gaze to Stella. “Where did you say you found it?”
“Hidden under some floorboards in the Collector’s attorney’s office.”
“Old building perchance?”
“Sort of,” Stella said with a shrug. “Not that old. I mean, not as old as you.”
“ Hmph ,” Joan said, though she didn’t seem to take too much offense. “I have not seen one of these in a long, long time. They were often burned by the Puritans. Eventually witches stopped making them. This one does not look too old though, which makes it interesting. I suspect it is even from this century.”
“Really?” Stella asked. “It’s so primitive looking, I assumed it was older.”
“The style reflects the maker, not the era. Whoever made this aimed for speed, not style. They used materials available to them.” Goody Joan sniffed the wood. “Cedar?”
Stella nodded.
“Unusual choice. And these numbers…” Goody Joan rubbed one knobby finger along the groove that made up the downward stroke of one of the number sevens. “They were not carved by an expert craftsman.”
“You think my father didn’t just own the board. He made it?”
“I did not say that,” Goody Joan said. But then, she hadn’t ruled it out either.
“Well, I say we go check out the house,” Jade said. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
Stella had her doubts about what could be gained. They already knew what her father was up to in terms of siphoning magic off of witches and wanting to assassinate all the witch hunters from history. What she wanted to know was why he was so insistent that Hurley hide the witch board.
The answer to that now lay with Hurley in his grave. Her father’s minions had made sure he couldn’t spill any more secrets.
“Go,” Izzy said. “I’ll watch the store for you.”
Stella still hesitated, but ultimately caved. “Thanks, Iz. When Ethan stops by…”
“I’ll let him know where to find you.”