A Charming Secret (Magical Cures Mystery Series Book 6) by Tonya Kappes Page A
Authors: Tonya Kappes
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when I threw myself into my job and started to climb the administrative ladder.”
“It all worked out.” I sighed deeply, putting the hurt of the death of both my parents in the back of my thoughts. “Tell me this plan of yours.”
“At midnight, I want you to slip in the cellar of Mystic Lights. There the village council, minus Petunia, will be waiting for you with the release ceremony.” She lifted the mug, the steam floated around her head. She took a sip. “Then you will come back here and wait for the trial.”
“Trial?” I gasped.
“I assume the autopsy report will show some sort of poison because I heard you had poison in the cauldron along with the remains of the IBS potion you had created.” Aunt Helena shook her head. Her voice held disgust, “You have got to learn not everyone is going to like you. You hold the power and it shows whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t hold all this power.” I didn’t want to hear her words. They only frightened me. “I only wanted Gwendolyn to like me.”
“Too late now. Remember my words, not everyone is going to like you. You hold too much power.” Aunt Helena’s words weren’t making me feel better. She got to her feet. “It’s time for me to get back.”
She hugged me before she grabbed her broom. With her free hand, she flung her cloak around her disappearing into a flume of orange smoke. That was power. The kind of power I wanted. Not this child’s play intuition.
To keep myself busy, I decided to go back outside and get my head wrapped around a plan to get some potions made so I could go back to the flea market and make a living until this nightmare was over with.
“Are you coming?” I opened the door and looked at Mr. Prince Charming who was on top of the kitchen counter staring out the window.
He didn’t budge so I went outside without him.
“What the heck?” My jaw dropped at the sight of my shed.
The entire thing was back together as though the explosion never happened. The walls were there, the glass ceiling was not shattered, and the door was hung. Carefully I opened the door and peeked in before I dared step in.
The counter was in place. The beakers and burners were in place and plugged in. All the ingredients were in the spice rack I had used to keep them sorted was in place. The sink was there. Everything was there.
“You’re welcome,” Aunt Helena’s voice whispered into the air.
I smiled.
Chapter Fifteen
The day was spent making new cures, keeping me happily busy, forgetting about the evil waiting for me in Whispering Falls.
“A dash of skullcap and a pinch of ginger.” My hands moved around the shelves in front of me, tossing stuff in the boiler as though I hadn’t missed a beat in my little shed. Neither time nor space could keep me from my gift. “There.” I grabbed the wooden spoon and stirred the mix.
It was the perfect combination for someone with stress issues over money. Unfortunately, money was a big part of Locust Grove residents’ stress problems. Whenever I was at the flea market, people would complain of stomachaches, acid reflux, headaches—all classic symptoms of stress. I would use my gift to hone in on their real underlying issues, which was mostly money.
“Aww.” I grabbed a few of the old bottles under the cabinet I had collected from garage sales when growing up and picked out a couple to put the potion in.
The bottles weren’t as pretty as the ones I used in A Charming Cure, but it would do for the flea market. Nor did they light up when I touched them. But I knew it was fine.
“I see you got a lot done today.” Oscar was at the door. “You are so wrapped up, you didn’t even notice that I’ve been standing here for about ten minutes.”
“Yes!” I quickly poured the beakers into the bottles and corked them up. Using a sharpie marker, I wrote on the bottle. “Herbal Remedy: Antacid.”
I held it out and looked at the first batch I was going to take to the
“It all worked out.” I sighed deeply, putting the hurt of the death of both my parents in the back of my thoughts. “Tell me this plan of yours.”
“At midnight, I want you to slip in the cellar of Mystic Lights. There the village council, minus Petunia, will be waiting for you with the release ceremony.” She lifted the mug, the steam floated around her head. She took a sip. “Then you will come back here and wait for the trial.”
“Trial?” I gasped.
“I assume the autopsy report will show some sort of poison because I heard you had poison in the cauldron along with the remains of the IBS potion you had created.” Aunt Helena shook her head. Her voice held disgust, “You have got to learn not everyone is going to like you. You hold the power and it shows whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t hold all this power.” I didn’t want to hear her words. They only frightened me. “I only wanted Gwendolyn to like me.”
“Too late now. Remember my words, not everyone is going to like you. You hold too much power.” Aunt Helena’s words weren’t making me feel better. She got to her feet. “It’s time for me to get back.”
She hugged me before she grabbed her broom. With her free hand, she flung her cloak around her disappearing into a flume of orange smoke. That was power. The kind of power I wanted. Not this child’s play intuition.
To keep myself busy, I decided to go back outside and get my head wrapped around a plan to get some potions made so I could go back to the flea market and make a living until this nightmare was over with.
“Are you coming?” I opened the door and looked at Mr. Prince Charming who was on top of the kitchen counter staring out the window.
He didn’t budge so I went outside without him.
“What the heck?” My jaw dropped at the sight of my shed.
The entire thing was back together as though the explosion never happened. The walls were there, the glass ceiling was not shattered, and the door was hung. Carefully I opened the door and peeked in before I dared step in.
The counter was in place. The beakers and burners were in place and plugged in. All the ingredients were in the spice rack I had used to keep them sorted was in place. The sink was there. Everything was there.
“You’re welcome,” Aunt Helena’s voice whispered into the air.
I smiled.
Chapter Fifteen
The day was spent making new cures, keeping me happily busy, forgetting about the evil waiting for me in Whispering Falls.
“A dash of skullcap and a pinch of ginger.” My hands moved around the shelves in front of me, tossing stuff in the boiler as though I hadn’t missed a beat in my little shed. Neither time nor space could keep me from my gift. “There.” I grabbed the wooden spoon and stirred the mix.
It was the perfect combination for someone with stress issues over money. Unfortunately, money was a big part of Locust Grove residents’ stress problems. Whenever I was at the flea market, people would complain of stomachaches, acid reflux, headaches—all classic symptoms of stress. I would use my gift to hone in on their real underlying issues, which was mostly money.
“Aww.” I grabbed a few of the old bottles under the cabinet I had collected from garage sales when growing up and picked out a couple to put the potion in.
The bottles weren’t as pretty as the ones I used in A Charming Cure, but it would do for the flea market. Nor did they light up when I touched them. But I knew it was fine.
“I see you got a lot done today.” Oscar was at the door. “You are so wrapped up, you didn’t even notice that I’ve been standing here for about ten minutes.”
“Yes!” I quickly poured the beakers into the bottles and corked them up. Using a sharpie marker, I wrote on the bottle. “Herbal Remedy: Antacid.”
I held it out and looked at the first batch I was going to take to the
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