The Wizard of Menace: A Paranormal Cozy Mystery (Magical Renaissance Faire Mysteries Book 8) by Erin Johnson

Author:Erin Johnson [Johnson, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Faire Ladies LLC
Published: 2023-08-07T16:00:00+00:00

MERLIN

The giant clock a couple of lanes over finished chiming ten o’clock. “How long is he going to sleep in?”

Hilde finished waving goodbye to a couple who’d just purchased a hand whisk tied with blue ribbon, then spun to face me, wringing her long skirt in her hands. “He did say travelin’ ’cross time ’n space did take it outta him.”

I made a face and sent angry thoughts upstairs, willing Merlin to have a nightmare that finally roused the old wizard. “Frankly, I think he’s overrated and high-maintenance.” I slumped forward on my stool, my stomach twisted with anxiety. I hadn’t even been able to eat or drink the coffee and croissant Bruce brought by earlier, I was so racked with worry.

As soon as the wizard had appeared last night, magically taking Tom’s place, the other witches and I rushed to explain our situation. But the old curmudgeon had waved us off, refusing to do anything, or even really hear us out, until he’d rested. It’d been over eight hours since Tom disappeared to who knew where, and the supposedly most powerful wizard ever had done little more than demand we bring him snacks and then snore loudly in Tom’s room.

With the broom shop clear of customers, Hilde swished to the back of the store, leaning her elbows on the wooden counter opposite me. “It’ll be a’right, m’lady. Though it does feel awfully empty without Tom and Mort.”

She patted my hand and offered me a sympathetic look before gazing around the shop with its high rafters, stuffed with handmade brooms. Brooms Tom and I had made together. My stomach did that sickening lurchy thing it’d been doing since last night every time I remembered she was gone.

My witchy mentor had asked me to look after the shop. As if I could come close to her level of artistry when it came to making the brooms or enchanting the ones we sold to the magic folk around here. And who would teach me spells? Or poke my back when I didn’t do the yoga poses right? Panic welled up inside me, constricting my throat.

Hilde pressed her lips together and spun around, still leaning against the counter. “Aw, even poor Broom’s agitated. Hasn’t stopped cleaning that fireplace all morning.”

Indeed, her enchanted pet broom frantically floated about the fireplace, dusting the massive, ugly oil painting that hung above the mantle. I glanced out the window and grimaced at the very human visitors trailing by in flower crowns and fabric fairy wings.

“You should probably get him to stop, though. Someone might see.”

“Oh, aye!” Hilde dashed forward and gently coaxed her broom into being calm and still, though it continued jerking and swiping at the painting for a bit before she succeeded.

I raised a brow. Broom really was worked up. I didn’t blame him. In fact, maybe he had the right idea after all.

I leapt to my feet and stomped around between racks of brooms, loudly dragging shelves across the wooden floor and unnecessarily banging broomsticks against the wall as I dusted them.

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