The Puzzle Box

Aspen and Elana huddle together, deep in conversation about the barrier spell options, and I grow bored in under a minute.

If they're not going to let the rest of us in on the debate, then what's the point of being here?

I turn to my new bestie, Aris, maker of charms. "So, charm casting runs in your family?"

She blushes with pleasure at my interest. "Yes, passed down from mother to daughter for generations."

"Must have sucked for the sons," I mutter.

"What was that?" Aris leans closer. "I didn't catch what you said."

"Must have been such an honor." I fiddle with the tiny potion bottle now dangling from my wand. "Does that mean your ancestors created the moon-madness amulets?"

She nods eagerly, her curls bouncing, and I envy how tame they appear. "Oh, yes, one of our greatest charms." Then her smile dims. "It's so unfortunate we could never make more of them."

"On account of the spell being missing?" I say.

Her gaze drops, and she shrugs.

My foot bounces. "Have you ever studied the pack's amulets?"

"Plenty of times." She tucks a perfect ringlet behind her ear. "But I can't replicate the charm."

"That must be so aggravating." I lean toward her, lowering my voice. "The grand achievement of your family, lost to time."

"It is." Frustration glints in her green eyes. "It's like this challenge that's been passed down through generations, a puzzle box that no one can solve."

"If it were me, I'd do anything to get that box open." I touch her arm, her skin soft and buzzing slightly beneath my fingertips. "How did something so important go missing?"

"Ah…" Aris hesitates, casting a wary glance toward Elana to make sure the coven leader is still caught up in her discussion with Aspen.

Satisfied that we won't be overheard, Aris leans in closer to whisper, "The thing is, the spell isn't technically lost. It's just locked away in a grimoire."

My pulse quickens. "The box that can't be opened."

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Levi and Haut turning toward us, their ears practically twitching with how hard they're eavesdropping.

I shift to block them from Aris's view. "Tell me about the puzzle box."

Aris sighs like someone who's carried a secret too long and can finally share the burden. "The original family grimoire was coded to only open to a blood relation. While I'm technically part of the family, my great-great-grandmother died before having an heir to the line. My great-grandmother was adopted from a powerful charm-caster family."

Her shoulders slump. "Unfortunately, the last of the hereditary witches passed away with my great-great-grandmother, and she never copied over the spells to a different grimoire. My great-grandmother wrote down what she could remember, but she never learned the spell for the moon-madness amulet."

"Witch hoarding at its finest." My fists clench in frustration. "Keeping everything all secretive and locked up tight. It's like Mrs. Smith and her damn pie recipe."

Aris's lips turn down in a frown. "Pie recipe?"

"There's a whole feud in Hartford Cove about it. She refused to share her recipe, and then when my friend Jesse beat her in the pie contest, she accused him of stealing it. Now she's determined to win this year, and Jesse's determined to remain the champion." My stomach twists into a knot at the very memory of apple pie. "But, yeah, hoarding recipes?—"

Before I can continue, Tris nudges me hard, and I realize the rest of the room is silent. I glance around the table to find everyone staring at us, curiosity etched on their faces.

I clear my throat and address the group. "Well, if you must know, our Mrs. Smith would give old Cora here a run for her money. Except that Mrs. Smith did take a silver knife to the gut, so she gets a slight pass on being such a raging bitch."

I notice Aspen wince at my bluntness, and hurry to clarify, "Mrs. Smith is a wolf shifter. But she's also a bitter, old prune."

"She took in Westen, though," Tris says, trying to be fair. "So she's not completely horrible."

"I had to practically force her into it," I counter. "And she threw a tray at your head when she was laid up in the clinic."

"On account of the stabbing, which she took to save you," Haut interjects.

"Which I paid her back for in the form of secret bacon." I squint at him. "Whose side are you on, man who is leaning toward a Tuesday degree of affection?"

He bats his lashes at me. "Yours, of course, my sweet Monday."

About to come back with a September level of love, I catch Aspen's expression, who looks like he just bit into a sour apple. Much like Mrs. Smith's face whenever she has to deal with me.

I sigh. "Okay, what did I miss, Oh Great Mentor?"

Aspen rubs his temples, trying to ward off a headache that I most likely caused. "We're tabling the implementation of Hartford Cove's barrier spell unless things get more dire. Without more experimentation, there's no guarantee we can modify it, and the memory-wiping aspect is far too complex to experiment with, especially when it won't fix the bigger issue."

I glance at Elana. "Have you guys tried starting from scratch with your barrier spell, or are you only attempting to renew the damaged one?"

Elana's lips press into a thin, displeased line. "If you'd been listening instead of gossiping, you'd know that answer."

"Ah, well, you see, my attention span operates on a hierarchy of interest." I wave a dismissive hand. "I obviously found gossiping more interesting than sitting quietly while you and Aspen discussed things by yourself."

Aspen winces at my bluntness, but he's used to me by now and chooses the path of least resistance this time. "The original barrier spell is lost."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow. "A lot of spells seem to go missing around Silver Hollow, considering how small and secluded the town is."

"It's been generations since it was first put in place," Elana sniffs, her nose in the air. "Things are bound to get lost in that time."

"Sure, sure, because witches are notorious for losing their magic books, so that makes total sense." I pick up the pencil I had abandoned earlier and grind the lead into the picture of Silver Hollow's barrier. "Did everyone check under their mattresses for it? Because I found six grimoires beneath Haut's without even trying."

Aspen's gaze sharpens, and his attention shifts to Elana.

"Is the spell even lost? Or is it ‘lost'?" I make air quotes with my fingers for emphasis.

Elana narrows her eyes at me. "What are you implying?"

"I thought it was obvious." I grind the pencil against the table so hard that it breaks in my hand. "I have trust issues, so I'd like to see the grimoires of the Silver Hollow coven."

Elana's eyes widen, and her face turns red as a tomato. "Excuse me? You can't waltz in here, a witch from outside our coven, and demand access to our most sacred texts. Who do you think you are?"

"Rowe Wendall, apprentice witch with a strict timeline." I drop the pieces of the pencil. "Nice to meet you."

Elana's disbelieving gaze shifts to Levi. "You can't expect me to tolerate this level of insolence."

Levi stands to loom over Elana, which is quite the sight to behold. The man is tall. "If that's what it takes to protect our town, then you'll produce the grimoires."

Elana rises stiffly, stepping back in the process to move out of Levi's shadow. "Fine, I will go get them."

"Actually…" I bounce to my feet, and Tris rises. "We'd rather go to the books."

Elana presses a hand over her heart. "Excuse me? You want to just barge into our coven's sacred space? That is unheard of!"

"We don't have time for this." My foot taps with impatience. "You can sage it or whatever once we're gone."

Levi gestures to the door. "Lead the way, Elana."

She spins with a dramatic flair of her skirt and marches out of the study room, leaving the rest of us to follow.

Levi approaches Aspen as he rises with the help of his makeshift cane. "It's a short walk, but it will still put a strain on your leg. I'll carry you."

Aspen's chin sets with stubbornness for a moment before he relents. "Fine, but not bridal style."

With a solemn nod, Levi turns his back and kneels, allowing Aspen to mount up with as much grace as possible, considering the situation.

As we leave the library, Tris leans down, his lips close to my ear. "What's the move, sparky?"

"The coven has been lying to the pack under Elana's order," I whisper, and don't miss the way Levi stiffens, the eavesdropper. "I don't trust her not to hide the important books to make her look like they've done their best while the barrier falls."

We step outside, where thankfully, the rain has stopped.

Tris's focus shifts to the woman who leads the way down the block. "You think she's behind this whole rot issue?"

"Not sure about that." I fiddle with my poison charm. "I don't think she's powerful enough. More likely, she's been trying to save face, because the coven here is dying out, and she's too afraid to bring in new members because she'll be replaced as the leader."

"All that from a little table side gossip?" Tris squeezes my waist. "I'm both impressed and horny for your brain."

"Well, you can confirm the power thing with Aspen," I hedge, not wanting him to take me completely at face value. "But do continue to be horny. You left me with blue balls last night."

"The last time I was between your legs, you didn't have balls." He snickers. "Haut would be the one with blue balls."

Behind us, the man with the balls growls at Tris.

Elana turns up a small stone path, past a white picket fence to an adorable yellow cottage that looks like it was plucked right out of a fairy tale, with flower boxes overflowing with vibrant blooms.

Whatever else Elana may be, she's obviously a decent earth witch.

Levi gently lowers Aspen back to his feet, allowing him to continue the rest of the way to the witch's house with dignity, his stick thumping against the wooden porch.

Stepping inside, Elana leads us through a pristine living room with a floral sofa, a small but well-stocked kitchen, and out the back door into a glass-enclosed greenhouse. The rich scent of damp soil and growing things hangs heavy in the air, and plants spill out from every corner.

Elana pauses at the entrance, slipping off her shoes, then gestures to our feet with a pointed stare. "We do not allow the pollutions from outside to cross into our sacred space."

A knot of anxiety forms in my stomach as I imagine stepping barefoot onto the dirt floor beyond. The last thing I want is to connect with any of Elana's magic. But I've already pushed her too far, and I don't want to make things worse this close to my goal.

Reluctantly, I take off my sneakers, leave my socks on, and step into a garden bursting with life and color.

Elana leads us to a worn worktable to the right, a locked glass bookcase filled with ancient-looking books sitting behind it.

As she pulls a key from around her neck and unlocks the doors with a satisfying click, a giddy sensation bubbles through me.

Aspen must not feel the same as he glances at the enclosed space, his brow creased in concern. "Do all of the coven members have a key to this sanctuary?"

"Of course not," Elana sniffs. "I'm the only one."

"Then how can they access their family grimoires if they're locked up here?" he presses.

"They simply need to ask." Elana lifts her chin as she steps to the side, opening the way to the bookcase. "Every witch has a personal grimoire from which they can practice."

"Wow, talk about witch hoarding to the extreme," I say.

My comment earns a glare from Elana. "These tomes are precious and must be guarded."

"Against their owners?" I nudge Aris. "Go fetch your family's grimoires. We'll start with those."

"Charm casters' books?" Elana scoffs. "I thought you were seeking a solution, not trinkets."

Anger bursts all my bubbles of excitement. "All spells are charms at a basic level. Aris's are just solid representations."

Elana turns to Aspen, disbelief written all over her face. "What kind of ignorant teaching is going on outside Silver Hollow?"

"Rowe's way of thinking is different," Aspen says, a chilly note to his voice, "and often enlightening, once you puzzle out her reasoning."

"Is there a translation dictionary for that?" Elana mutters under her breath.

Haut's growl cuts through the greenhouse. "You're speaking about my mate and a guest of the Alpha."

Warm fuzzies replace the anger, and I cuddle up against Haut. "You're officially back at a Saturday level of love, bad wolf."

"Whatever that means," Elana grumbles.

"Trust me." Haut wraps an arm around my waist, snugging me close. "It's a good thing."

I give Aris an encouraging nod, and she avoids meeting Elana's sharp gaze as she steps forward to collect her family's grimoires.

She returns with a stack of dusty tomes, carefully placing them on the table.

I abandon Haut's embrace to join her, eager to see this puzzle box. I reach out and pull one of the books toward me, flipping back the cover with disappointing ease. As I turn the first page, I notice a familiar family crest in the corner.

My eyes widen, and the blood drains from my face, leaving me light-headed. I grip the edge of the table for support as a laugh bubbles out of me.

No. Freaking. Way.

I should have listened to Haut and noped this entire adventure.

Haut and Tris crowd around me, concern etched on their faces.

"Are you okay?" Tris turns my head to study my eyeballs. "Maybe we should have checked out that concussion after all…"

"It's not the head injury." I gesture to the grimoire open in front of me. "It's this."

Aris wrings her fingers together. "Is something wrong?"

Aspen limps forward and leans over the thick book, his gaze falling on the crest. He sucks in a breath, his eyes widening. "These grimoires are from the Rothaven coven?"

"Yes?" Aris quivers so hard her curls bounce. "That's my family line."

Tris gives me an excited shake, which does nothing for the dizzy sensation sweeping over me. "Congratulations, you have a cousin!"

A grin spreads over Aspen's face that doesn't look entirely nice as he turns toward Elana. "Looks like we're not outsiders after all."

"Um, hello?" Aris lifts one plump hand. "What's going on?"

I meet the uncertainty in her gaze with my own. "This is apparently a Rothaven reunion."