If I hadn’t been so tired, I would have laughed. “You think they just wrote it down on a piece of paper? Bad guy checklist: Scare innocents, check. Befriend the Mayor so we don’t get caught, check. Stuff Gido into a suitcase and dump his rectangular corpse in the park, check.”
Sebille rolled her eyes, but I wasn’t sure if it was at Alice or me. “We’ll need to do this magically.”
Oliver scampered down Alice’s arm to her hand, blinking at me as if he was considering pretending I was a tree.
I shook my head, raising my hands above the table. “Nuh, uh, mister. I’m not a frog person.”
Alice looked shocked. “Why ever not? Frogs are adorable.”
I grimaced. I’d had a bad experience with one once. “I’m more of a cat person,” I told her, hoping she didn’t get her feelings hurt, but not caring enough to let her frog crawl all over me.
Fenwald suddenly jumped to his feet and yowled, his tail slapping the air behind him.
Sebille surged out of her chair.
“What’s wr…” I started to ask.
I never got the words out.
As Sebille lifted her hands and sent a pale green wall of magic toward the window, something smacked into it from the outside. Something big that sounded like a freight train crashing into the building.
Fenwald flew away from the window on a yowl, his long legs pushing the air as he was propelled like a furry rocket into the room. Beside me, Alice made an “umph!” sound and fell backward off her chair with the furry projectile tucked against her middle.
The window bowed inward in a curved bubble that boiled with black energy, the glass making terrifying crackling noises as the oily power shoving it inward roared and pushed.
Sebille’s face was a study in determination as the energy pressed closer. The window bowed inward until it had to be reaching its breaking point, groaning as the magic tried to expand it past the point the sprite’s magic could contain it.
But her magic, which smelled of flowers and freshly-broken blades of grass, somehow managed to hold the energy back, bolstering the strained glass as it continued to bulge inward until I thought there was no way it could keep from breaking.
It didn’t occur to me to hide. I stood there, transfixed by the horror show in front of me. If Sebille’s energy failed and the window exploded inward, I’d be dead. But so would Sebille, and it seemed unfair to run to safety when she was risking herself trying to save us.
Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do except offer moral support. So I stood there, my hands lifting toward the bulging glass in silent support of her efforts.
My palms stung and a slim ribbon of pale gray energy slid from each of them, hitting the wall of green energy and mingling with it. It was too little to do much good. But it gave me an idea. I looked down at Alice. “Help her! Use your Keeper energy.”
The glass crackled ominously. The sulfurous stench of ugly energy filled the room. The horrible smell made my eyes water and my stomach roll with nausea.
Alice gently pushed Fenwald off her stomach and tucked Oliver into her hair, shoving to her feet. Without another word, she stood between Sebille and me and raised her palms, sending dual ribbons of silvery magic into the pale green barrier keeping the window from shattering into a million tiny pieces.
The glass groaned, bulging another fraction of an inch inward, and then slowly started to ease backward under our combined efforts.
The roaring beyond the window started to soften, easing away into the night as the window steadily returned to normal.
And then the three of us collapsed onto the well-worn carpet and lay there, panting in exhaustion.
Alice didn’t stay down long. She pushed to her feet and went over to the door, performing a complex spell that sealed Croakies from the magical influence of anyone except a Keeper. Then she slid, gray-faced, to the floor, resting her head against the door’s smooth surface.
“What in the name of the goddess’s favorite soup crackers was that?” I panted out.
Sebille’s gaze caught mine, the iridescent green swirling with residual energy. “I don’t know for sure, but I’ll bet I can guess.”
Alice nodded, reaching inside the pocket of her sweater for her phone. “I can guess too. But Lea should be able to tell us for sure.”
12
Fi Fiddle Foe, To Gnomish We Will Go
Lea gathered up her candles and broke the edge of the circle with her toe. “There’s no doubt in my mind this is the same mage,” she told us.
The verification was terrifying. Apparently, whoever had invaded Croakies to steal the suitcase wasn’t done with us. “Why do you suppose he attacked?” I asked the three other women.
Sebille shrugged.
Lea didn’t respond, apparently thinking my question had been for the others.
Alice chewed on her bottom lip, her gaze skittering guiltily away.
“What aren’t you telling us?” I asked, frowning. She could keep her little secrets if they only affected her. But if Lea, Sebille, and I were going to get sucked into a black magic vortex because of something she’d done, Alice owed it to us to come clean.
The Keeper’s jaw turned mulish, and her small eyes flashed with anger. “Why would you think I’m not telling you something?” she asked angrily.
“Maybe because you’re looking guiltier than a puppy piddling on a newly mopped floor?” Sebille offered wryly.
Alice jammed her hands onto her hips and stared us all down for a beat, and then seemed to realize it wasn’t working and sighed. “I didn’t get an order on the suitcase.”
Sebille and Lea frowned in confusion.
I thought about her admission for a beat and then realized the significance. “It wasn’t supposed to be here?”
Alice shook her head. “It showed up in the bookstore a few days ago, and I should have looked
