The Big Day Brew-HaHa Read online

  She grunted through a faceful of rainbow sparkles.

  “You’re looking very… festive.”

  She stuck out her whopping bottom lip and blew off the glitter. “This your doing, girl?”

  “My doing?”

  “You put this train wreck together?”

  “Oh, the party… Well, some of it, but—”

  She grunted and tramped away.

  Geez, I couldn’t even call her out for being rude on account of the very large debt she’d paid off on my behalf. Even though I wasn’t allowed to thank her for it. Or even let on that I knew.

  “Where are Damon and Mike when we need them?” Violet said.

  “Yeah, like they’re going to be able to do anything here. They’re not the magical police—hey, do you think that wild man is behind everything? I don’t trust him.”

  I didn’t like the fact that I couldn’t find Griffin either, but hopefully, he was hanging with Damon somewhere. And keeping watch over Sal too.

  “Well, he did steal Conan’s arrows…” Sage said.

  “He’s a satyr.”

  I gawked at Violet. “What?”

  “Of course,” Sage said. “I see it now.”

  “A… satyr?” I studied the life of the party, slinging his long beard and hair around on the dancefloor, a cluster of women swooning over him like he was a rock god. “But aren’t satyrs like half donkey or something?”

  “They cannot resist a celebration,” Sage said to Violet. “The ultimate party animal.”

  “Yes, and it’s only going to get worse. That’s a given.”

  I waved between them. “But—”

  “Conan is gone,” Bettina breathed out. “I messed up everything.”

  “Yo ho ho!”

  I ignored the rowdy, obnoxious laughter. “Maybe it’ll be okay now. He did get his arrows back. That could’ve been the whole…” Holy crud. Griffin told me he’d gotten stung by something earlier. Could he have been struck by an arrow?

  “No, you don’t understand,” she whined. “Someone other than Conan might have used the arrows. Who knows what kind of havoc that’ll cause?”

  My stomach twisted. “Yeah.”

  “That… beast stole Conan’s arrows and imprisoned him in the cake and… Oh, it was all my fault!”

  “Please stop, okay? Beating yourself up is not going to help anything. Fortunately, Conan was freed when he was. If not, imagine how much more could’ve gone awry.”

  Try saying that with a straight face. It’s harder than you think. With half the town swinging from the chandeliers, I had to wonder if we were trapped inside a Gremlins’ movie.

  “I thought today would be perfect for them. Niall and Clare even had their porridge this morning.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “With extra salt,” she added.

  “Okay…”

  “And I even helped Clare cook a goose last night for Niall.”

  “Let me guess—more traditions?”

  She nodded. “Yes, Niall’s. But maybe that was the problem? I’m so sorry. Maybe we should’ve focused strictly on elven lore. That’s probably it. The problem—”

  I grasped her shoulders while Sage and Violet continued to whisper to each other about the-heck-if-I-know. “Do you want to help fix this?”

  “Oh yes. Yes, of course. I want to help. Very much.”

  “Then we need to focus. It’s Niall’s wedding too, so it only makes sense to also follow some leprechaun traditions, correct?”

  “I suppose.”

  “And Clare already has her ‘something red, something witchy, something tricked, something stitchy,’ right?” All wrapped up in one in the form of Violet’s ex-coat. According to Clare, that was the best luck of all for a happy marriage.

  “Yes… that’s true.”

  “Then it’s all good. Even if the reception is somewhat”—ha!—“chaotic, the ceremony can still be perfect.” I felt like I was talking her off the ledge when not that long before I was stressing how serious things were. “And don’t forget, they’re finally getting married right here in their own town, surrounded by family and friends when they never thought that’d be possible before. That’s the important thing.”

  She took a deep breath. “You’re right, Samm. Absolutely right.”

  Okay, good. She was calming down. Now, if only I could do the same. What in the flippin’ frog were we going to do? There was no guarantee that these “guests” wouldn’t decide to crash the ceremony as well.

  “Are we positive that this satyr…” I caught sight of a woman with even redder hair than Violet’s set down an empty plate with a fork that’d just left her mouth. At least I thought it was a fork; the tines were all misshapen like melted plastic on a stovetop. Yikes. I sure hoped she wasn’t kissing anyone tonight. “…or anyone else we don’t know wasn’t invited?”

  “No, they weren’t invited,” Violet said. “I’m sure of it. They must’ve come in from out of town, following the satyr. News of a party travels fast, you know.”

  “How do we get them to leave is the big question.”

  “Simple. We just have to convince him there’s a better party elsewhere.”

  “And how are we supposed to do that?”

  “Well, if I remember correctly from my witch studies.” I rolled my eyes. “Satyrs have a weakness for music, dancing, and women. And it appears the feeling is mutual.”

  “Now tell me something I don’t know, oh wise and all-knowing sorceress. I can already see there are going to be lots of angry husbands and boyfriends in the morning.”

  Geesh. It was already well established that Violet had been the much better student growing up, even if I had better self-control. Yes, she had embraced her heritage, and I had denied it. But that was all ancient history, so cut me some slack, Sis. I’d already officially moved back to Bigfoot Bay, and I was practicing again. Or trying to. What more could I do?

  “Defensive much?”

  “Quit it, you two. We need to work together,” Sage said. “Carry on, Violet.”

  “As I was saying, satyrs have a weakness for women, especially nymphs. Water, wood, meadow, whatever. They love them all. So, what we need to do is tell him there’s another party down by the lake filled with them. Then he’ll leave and take all his friends with him.”

  “What about when he arrives at the lake and finds no party and no nymphs. What then?”

  “I didn’t think that far ahead.”

  “Let me do it,” Bettina begged. “I can tell him about this other party and get him to leave and not come back. It’s the least I can do to make things right.”

  “Let’s hold off,” I said. “As Violet said, we haven’t thought it all the way through yet. It’s best to stay away from him for now. We need to figure out what to do when—”

  “Sal?” Sage planted her hands on her hips. “Sal, what is the meaning of this?”

  “Get this psycho chick off of me.”

  “Sal, I demand to know what is going on.”

  It was the hysterical woman from the corner, the one dressed all in white. She was clinging to Sal’s leg as he attempted to both walk and shake her off unsuccessfully.

  “Don’t leave,” she cried. “I knew you’d come back for me. Please, don’t leave me again.”

  “Get off of me,” he said.

  Wow, it didn’t matter how hard Sal jerked his leg, that woman was stuck on tighter than that one-inch tick Mom found on her neck after doing a week-long goddess retreat in the deep woods. I shuddered.

  “But I shed my skin for you,” she wailed.

  Okay, ick. I’d rather think about the engorged tick. “Don’t mean to interrupt, Sal, but where’s Griffin? I thought he was with you.”

  “And what about Damon?” Violet added.

  “They left.”

  “They left?”

  “Yeah—get off of me!”

  “You’d better start telling me who this woman is right now,” Sage said
.

  “I told you already. Some psycho chick who ain’t leavin’ me alone is who she is.”

  “Don’t leave me again, Kieran. Please.”

  “Kieran? Who’s Kieran?”

  “How am I supposed to know? This town is frickin’ nuts.”

  Sage kneeled down. “How did you get here tonight? Did you come with him?” She pointed to the satyr, and the girl nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks in torrents. How much liquid could one small person possibly have inside of them? “My name is Sage. What’s yours?”

  “Amelia.”

  “Nice to meet you, Amelia. Okay, so the thing is, this guy you’re suctioned to? He isn’t Kieran. His name is Sal. And he’d very much appreciate you letting go. The rest of your party is leaving soon, and if you leave with them, maybe you can find—”

  “Oh no. I cannot leave with Bob. Not when—”

  “Hold up,” I said. “The satyr’s name is Bob?”

  Sage glanced up at me. “That’s not the issue right now, Samm.”

  “But how threatening can a Bob be?” I was feeling better already. I peeked over at the dancefloor, spotting Bettina as one of the women congregating around him. She leaned over, talking into his ear. I hadn’t even noticed her sneak off. We told her to hold off and… Oh, what did it matter? Surely, it’d be fine because… Bob?

  “Amelia, I’m going to need you to let go now and—”

  “No! I will not let Kieran leave me again.”

  “Got a light?”

  “No, but Bob does.” I giggled.

  Sage shot me a look. “Get over it, Samm.”

  “Mrs. Swanson?” Violet’s eyes popped wide. Oh yeah. She hadn’t seen her smoking earlier; she was too busy sucking face.

  “Hello, dear. Did I ever tell you how happy I am that you’re back from your vacation? The town just isn’t the same without you.”

  “But… but you don’t smoke.”

  “I’m living it up, girls.” She winked, then strolled off.

  “Mrs. Swanson,” I called out. “Be sure to take that cigar outside, please.”

  “What in the world…” Violet shook her head.

  “A little help here.” Sage grunted as she attempted to forcibly remove Amelia from Sal’s leg. “Does this woman have barbed fingers or something?”

  “Don’t ask me. I’m losin’ circulation.”

  A flute began to play, and just like that, the band stopped. “Come one, come all,” Bob shouted over the crowd. “I have learned of an even finer celebration. It’s at the lake. Follow me!”

  Everyone cheered. Oh no. I didn’t want all the guests to leave. I checked in with Violet. Now what?

  We made a break for the door before we got trampled. Except for Sal. He had to drag himself there because of the life-sized leech. Just outside the front entrance, Mrs. Swanson stood with her smoke, leaning forward for Bob to light it while his groupies waited patiently.

  Amelia began to wail harder, and I did my best to tune her out, but the woman was seriously hurting my head. It was already hard enough to think with everything else going on.

  I zoned out on the lighter, on the sharp, thin flame that shot up. Poor Clare. What do we do now? The flame expanded, morphing into the shape of a… horse? It was beautiful. Sleek and black and… Black? But the fire had been bright blue at first, I was sure of it. The flame disappeared and I snapped out of my little trance.

  “Mike?” I heard Violet say, and I spun around. “Where’d you come from?”

  He looked confuzzled. “I’m not sure…” He’d drifted over from the opposite direction, appearing like he’d been wandering around a fairy glen for the past two hundred years (no offense, Sage).

  “Where’s Damon?” she asked.

  “And Griffin,” I added. “Did they go, uh, walking with you?”

  I didn’t worry as much for the Kane brothers as some of the others because their constitutions resided somewhere between magical and non-magical. Semi-magical, I guess you could say. I didn’t quite get it either, but I was working on it. If only Mr. Jones’s journal would’ve been clearer.

  Mike’s eyes turned skyward, and he pondered that over for a bit. “Walking… No.” His face was starting to look a little less clouded, at least. “Damon did get a call a while ago and had to leave. There was a disturbance—hey, stop!”

  We all watched in horror as Bob danced merrily off into the night with Bettina slung over his shoulder, kicking and screaming.

  “I’m sorry!”

  Chapter Four

  Even in a personal crisis, she still apologized.

  “Bettina!” Mike bolted after her, but with Bob’s followers skipping around him, they’d created a barrier he couldn’t penetrate. “Halt! I am an officer of the law. You let her go immediately, you hear me?”

  “This town is frickin’ nuts.”

  “Never mind that,” Violet said. “We have to save Bettina.”

  She made it a few feet forward before I yanked her back. “Wait. We need a plan.”

  “A plan? Are you kidding me? How can we possibly make a plan at a time like this?”

  “How can we not? Look what happened when Bettina rushed in when we told her to wait. If she would’ve just stayed away from him until we knew better what we were dealing with, then maybe she wouldn’t be bouncing against some satyr’s back right now.”

  And look at what happened when I underestimated someone because of their wholesome name. Never again.

  “Oh, so this is her fault?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You said it yourself—Mike won’t be able to do anything. It’s up to us.”

  I paced around. “I know. Just let me think, okay?”

  “We already know they’re headed for the lake.”

  “I said, let me think.”

  There was this loose piece floating around in my head, and I was so close to snapping it into place. I completely agreed that we had to get Bettina back, but something else…

  “Samm’s right,” Sage said. “I doubt Bettina’s in any immediate danger, but knowing a satyr, he’s not going to give her up so easily. We can’t just run in and grab her, especially after he gets to the lake and finds out there’s nothing else to interest him.”

  “Even if she’s not in danger, how are we supposed to tell Clare that her maid of honor won’t be here for the ceremony?”

  “We’ll get her back in time,” Sage assured her, flicking me a look. “Isn’t there some witchy stuff you guys could do?”

  “Don’t ask me. I’m still a novice.”

  Sage sighed and focused on Violet. “And I’m a bit rusty,” she said. “I’m still easing back into my witch legs, and it’s taking longer than I thought. Just the other day I tried changing the shade of my earrings to match my dress, and I couldn’t even make that leap from royal blue to cobalt. Do you know how mortifying that was?”

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” I said. “Those are basically the same colors.”

  “They are not. Cobalt is a touch lighter.”

  I rolled my eyes. “But yet you had no problem blending into everything under the sun when you were a chameleon frog. Do black and yellow stripes ring a bell?”

  “That’s enough,” Sage said. “How is this helping anything?”

  Speaking of not helping… I narrowed my eyes at Amelia. “Can you please stop crying for one second? You’re already cemented to him—what more do you want?”

  She sniffled. “I don’t want him to leave me.”

  I threw up my arms. How was I expected to concentrate when there was a woman here sounding like she was giving birth to a porcupine? I told myself to have some compassion; I didn’t know her story or what she’d been through, but enough was enough.

  “That’s not even Kieran. That’s Sal. How many times do we have to tell you that? And being so obsessed with the guy, how can you possibly not know the difference?”

  “Settle down, Samm.” Sage touched my arm. “I know things are tense,
but again, not helping.”

  I took several deep breaths. Yes, it was pretty dang obvious how worked up I was, but I just wanted this day to be perfect for Clare, and at the moment, I couldn’t imagine anything more imperfect.

  “Okay, that’s better,” Sage said. “What if we go back to the shop and Violet finds you a spell and—”

  “Don’t leeeeeeave me.”

  Grrr.

  “I don’t know anything to take down a satyr,” Violet said. “And it’s not like any of us are in grave peril, but I suppose we could try…”

  Click.

  The piece had connected. I could feel it.

  “Samm, are you listening to me?”

  “A black horse,” I said.

  “What?”

  “A black horse,” I repeated. The image I’d seen in the flame.

  “What does a black horse have to do with anything?” Sage asked.

  It was then I saw Sal flinch. It’d been so subtle I could’ve easily missed it had I not been looking in his direction.

  I marched up to him. “Yeah, Sal. Tell us about the black horse.” He flinched again. Gotcha.

  “Why are you asking Sal?”

  I stared into his eyes. “Don’t you mean, ‘why am I asking Kieran’?”

  “Somethin’s screwy in your head, Eve. Samm. Whatever.”

  “Yes, Samm.” Sage eyed me down; I could feel it without even looking at her. “What are you implying?”

  I wasn’t even sure myself, but I had to trust that I was onto something. “I demand to speak to Kieran now!” Sage wasn’t the only one who could be bossy.

  Violet came up beside me. “Samm?”

  “You’re frickin’—”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m nuts. Sage is nuts. Violet is nuts. Newsflash: This entire town is nuts. I’m waiting for you to tell me something I don’t know.”

  Which was considerable, but I didn’t want him to know that. And who was “him,” exactly? Intellectually, I knew this was Sal standing in front of me, but why was that little voice urging me to see him as Kieran? And this was just after berating poor, exasperating Amelia for thinking the same.

  Follow your instincts, Samm. Even if they didn’t make sense. Especially if they didn’t make sense, I was coming to learn more and more.