Witchy Sour(6)

“Why can’t you have two people with the same thing?” I asked. “It doesn’t seem like it’d hurt to double up.”

Poppy and Zin swiveled their gazes to me like I’d grown eight heads.

“That’s why it’s called a Uniqueness,” Zin said eventually. “It has to be unique.”

“But why?”

“Think of it this way,” Poppy said. “Each Ranger is a snowflake. This is not one massively trained army, it’s a small group of swift, deadly men. The more people who know the secrets they do, the less private those secrets become, and sometimes, those secrets need to remain buried. Each Ranger has one specialty, and once that specialty is covered—that’s it.”

“In the event one of them can’t continue to do their job for any reason...” Zin started, but trailed off. “Let’s just say, I’d be waiting a long time for an opening. That is why I need to make my own.”

“I’ll help you,” I said. “So will Poppy. What are you good at?”

Zin shrugged. “I can shoot arrows. I can handle a knife, and I can smell a potion about fifty percent of the time.”

Poppy snorted. “No way are you becoming the poison tester. Those aren’t great odds at survival, so I won’t let you.”

“That’s what I’m saying! Nothing stands out,” Zin said, her shoulders sinking. “I’m never going to make it.”

“That’s not true.” I moved to her side, squeezing her in a one-armed hug. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe it’ll just take some time for the right idea to hit you. You’re a shifter, what about that?”

Zin stiffened under my arm. “No.”

“She’s sensitive about that subject,” Poppy whispered, leaning in. “Still can’t figure out her final form. The Rangers won’t let her in until she can shift consistently, so she’s got a month to figure it out. That’s probably why she’s tense. Do you have a potion for that? Some sort of Stress Relief beverage?”

“I don’t need it,” Zin argued. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. What are these ropes all about, anyway? Is this about your missing spellbook?”

I nodded, wishing I could help her feel better, but I didn’t know the first thing about shape shifting. Or Rangers. Or really, much of anything magical except for the few simple potions I’d been learning with Gus.

Zin raised her eyebrows at the ropes strewn across the room. “How is this supposed to help you find a thief?”

I stepped over a piece of wire to stand in the center of the room. “Each one of these yarn strings represents a protective spell that’d been actively guarding the spellbook. They act like an alarm system, and in theory, one or more of the alarms should have gone off before the book could have been stolen.”

“No alarm went off?” Poppy asked.

“That’s the problem,” I said. “Whoever stole the book maneuvered past one of the most complicated spell systems on the island.”

“Do you think it’s someone with insider knowledge on the setup?” There was a hint of caution in Poppy’s voice that caught me by surprise.

“That’s the puzzle,” I said. “I don’t know. Gus and I have been over every last inch of this place, and neither he nor I have any guesses as to how a person could get away so cleanly. I worked it out with X last night, and he didn’t have a clue, either.”

“Gus is a smart guy,” Zin said. “He knows his way around this place?”

“Better than anyone,” I said, starting to nod. Then I caught the meaning behind Zin’s words and stopped mid-head-bob. “You’re not suggesting that Gus had something to do with this?”

Zin raised her shoulders. “I mean...the person must be familiar with the spellbook. They must have had access to the book before. They must’ve picked it up, and probably looked through the layout of the spell system protecting it. The person would likely have to know this space very well.”

“They’d also have to know you,” Poppy said, chiming in. “What time you go to sleep, how you work, your systems.”

“No!” I shook my head violently. “Gus loves this place more than anyone else. There’s no way he’d sabotage it, or steal the book. He’s worried sick about it; we both are!”

“Where is he now?” Zin gave a pointed stare around the room. “What’s he up to?”

“I don’t have to babysit him every minute of the day,” I said more crossly than I intended. Like it or not, my feathers were ruffling. Plus, Gus should’ve been here by now, and Gus was never late. “He can come and go as he pleases.”