Juliet Dove, Queen of Love Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Killer Strikes Again

  Spring Fever

  Boy Trouble

  Voices in the Attic

  Roxanne and Jerome

  Clarice and Mr. Toe

  Strange Messages

  Tales of the Gods

  The Other Realm

  She Who Wanders

  Field of Gold

  Prisoner of Love

  Cupid’s Little Helpers

  Uproar

  Downfall

  Love on the Half Shell

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2003 by Bruce Coville

  All rights reserved. For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company, 215 Park Avenue South, New York, New York 10003.

  www.hmhco.com

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Coville, Bruce.

  Juliet Dove, Queen of Love/Bruce Coville.

  p. cm.

  “A Magic Shop Book.”

  Summary: A shy twelve-year-old girl must solve a puzzle involving characters from Greek mythology to free herself from a spell which makes her irresistible to boys.

  [1. Magic—Fiction. 2. Bashfulness—Fiction. 3. Mythology, Greek—Fiction.]

  I. Title.

  PZ7.C8344Ju 2003

  [Fic]—dc22 2003011846

  ISBN: 978-0-15-204561-6 hardcover

  ISBN: 978-0-15-205217-1 paperback

  eISBN 978-0-547-54106-8

  v1.0315

  for Tamora Pierce

  (with a special note of thanks to Cara for the sluggarium)

  ONE

  Killer Strikes Again

  “Hey, Killer! How’s your boyfriend?”

  Juliet Dove felt her cheeks begin to burn. Why couldn’t Bambi Quilp just leave her alone? Why couldn’t everyone just leave her alone?

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said softly.

  “Oh, we’ve seen you walking with Arturo,” said Bambi knowingly.

  “Yeah, we’ve seen you walking with Arturo!” repeated Samantha Foster, who was sort of Bambi’s official leech.

  That Bambi and Samantha had seen Juliet and Arturo walking together was no surprise. Arturo Perez was Juliet’s across-the-backyard neighbor, and they had been walking to school together since first grade.

  “Artureo and Juliet, the love story of the century!” cried Bambi. Clasping her hands she placed them against her cheek and fluttered her eyelids. “How Juliet does luh-uve that may-unn!”

  Juliet flared. “Look who’s talking, you pea-brained, metal-mouthed boy chaser! Did you ever see anything in pants that you didn’t want? You’ll probably have to wait to get the tin off your teeth, though. I hear boys don’t like the taste of stainless steel!”

  Juliet knew she’d made a mistake the moment the words left her mouth. Bambi had only been wearing braces since Monday and she was still sensitive about them. But Juliet had been desperate to turn the attention away from herself, and the blistering comments had escaped her lips before she even had a chance to think about them.

  Explosions like this were what had earned her the ridiculous nickname Killer to begin with—ridiculous because, in truth, Juliet was the most painfully shy person in the entire Venus Harbor Middle School. Or the entire state, by her father’s calculation. But Mr. Dove was given to poetic exaggeration.

  Juliet hated the nickname, especially because the ferocious comments that earned it for her had never been spoken out of anger. It was just that the minute people started teasing her about personal matters, she felt such an acute panic that she would say anything—anything—to get them to leave her alone. Unfortunately, whenever she tried to explain that she did this because she was shy, people laughed.

  “It’s because you’re too good at it,” Arturo had told her once. “I mean, when you set your tongue on slice and dice, it’s like you’ve got a Ginsu knife between your teeth.”

  Juliet might not have lashed out at Bambi quite so horribly if she hadn’t already been upset over their language-arts teacher’s announcement that they would be doing oral reports at the end of the month. As far as Juliet was concerned, doing an oral report was not much different from being slowly ground up in a sausage machine—except that, given a choice, she would have opted for the sausage machine. She could not think of anything more excruciating than having to stand up in front of people and speak.

  All this was going through Juliet’s mind later that afternoon as she pressed herself against the brick wall of the alley that ran alongside the Venus Harbor Cinema. She had ducked around the corner to hide when she saw Bambi and Samantha coming toward her. Though she kept telling herself that the simplest way to deal with the situation would be to walk up to Bambi and apologize, Juliet found the very idea terrifying. So she remained tight against the wall, barely breathing, wishing she could melt right into it, until the girls had gone by

  Unfortunately, Bambi and Samantha—Did either of them ever go anywhere alone? Juliet wondered—did not keep walking. Instead, they stopped to examine the poster for the weekend’s big event, the Third Annual Venus Harbor Valentine’s Day Poetry Jam.

  Go away, thought Juliet desperately. Go away!

  The mental command didn’t work. Bambi and Samantha stayed right where they were.

  “My pathetic mother is totally jazzed because Scott Willis is coming to this,” said Bambi.

  “Who cares about a fat weatherman?” scoffed Samantha. “Corey Falcon is the one I’m excited about!”

  “Just because you’ve got fifteen pictures of him on your wall?”

  “You think he’s hot, too!” protested Samantha. “Besides, did you ever read any of his poems? He’s not just a great actor. He’s got a beautiful soul!”

  Juliet tried not to betray her hiding spot by making puking noises. The whole poetry jam was her father’s idea and he had been grumbling for months about having to bring in “fake poets” like Scott Willis and Corey Falcon. She felt a twitch of irritation at Bambi and Samantha for even looking at the poster.

  “So are you going to go?” asked Samantha, after a few minutes.

  “Are you kidding?” said Bambi. “And miss a chance to see Corey Falcon in person? Besides, it’s going to be fun. People are coming from all over. They even did a thing about it on Fox News last night.” Suddenly she laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Samantha.

  “Remember what happened to Juliet the first year they did this?”

  Samantha snorted. “That was so pathetic!”

  Juliet’s cheeks blazed nearly as red as the brick wall behind her as the unwanted memory swept over her. More than ever she wished she could just disappear.

  “So—what are you going to do about her?” asked Samantha.

  “About who?” said Bambi, sounding genuinely puzzled.

  “Juliet!”

  “Why should I do anything? Everyone knows what a jerk she is. I’ve got more important things to do than worry about getting back at Killer.”

  “I can’t believe you’re going to let her get away with saying those things,” growled Samantha. “In fact, when I see her, I’m going to slap her face for you!”

  A horrible panic, too powerful to resist, seized Juliet, and she turned to flee. She did not run because she was afraid of being slapped by Samantha. She ran simply because she was afraid of being seen by either of them.

  The back end of the alley opened into the parking lot behind Cosgrove’s grocery. Juliet raced across the lot, i
gnoring the hello called to her by Suzy Cosgrove. She shot behind the teddy-bear store, turned up Dell Street, then turned right, toward the beach. But somehow she must have gotten turned around, because the beach was only two blocks away, and she kept running and running. To her surprise, she found herself on a street she did not recognize—which seemed impossible, since she had lived in Venus Harbor all her life, and it wasn’t that big a town.

  Juliet slowed to a walk, pressing her hand against her side where a sharp pain had blossomed. She noticed that a mist had started to rise. Early fogs were not unknown in Venus Harbor, but this was thicker than usual, and the tendrils of it seemed to cling to her feet. She pulled her drab sweater more tightly around her shoulders and looked from side to side.

  The street was lined with old-fashioned-looking shops. Like the fog, this was not unusual for Venus Harbor, where quaint was the official town style and nine-tenths of the stores—half of them selling either fudge or seashells—were designed to catch the eye of tourists. But the shop at the end of the street was even more old-fashioned-looking than the others. Its curved front window, divided into many panes, said in bold letters:

  ELIVES’ MAGIC SUPPLIES

  S. H. ELIVES, PROP.

  Where did that came from? wondered Juliet, finding it hard to believe Venus Harbor could possibly contain such a cool store—or that she had been unaware of it until now. Forgetting Bambi and Samantha, she waded through the fog, which was swirling around her knees now and seemed to get thicker as she approached the shop.

  The door was made of carved wood instead of metal and glass like those of most of the stores in town. Juliet pressed on it.

  The door swung open without a sound. A small bell tinkled overhead as she crossed the threshold.

  She looked around for a clerk but there was no one in sight.

  “Hello?” she called. “Anyone here?”

  No answer.

  Juliet thought about leaving but figured if the door was unlocked it must mean the store was open for business. Maybe whoever ran the place was in the bathroom. Juliet actually preferred it like this, since she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. She hated the way people who worked in stores were always asking if you wanted something; most of the time what she wanted was to be left alone.

  She gazed around the shop. It was filled with all sorts of things that magicians—professional magicians—might use in their acts. To the right was a wall filled with cages. She saw rabbits, which she figured were for pulling out of hats. But there were also toads, lizards, bats, and a spider the size of a dinner plate. She shuddered, and turned her attention elsewhere.

  In the center of the room stood a tall, glossy black cabinet with brilliantly colored Asian dragons painted on its sides. Swords had been thrust through the cabinet from all directions.

  Beside the cabinet was a bin filled with a rainbow’s worth of silk scarves.

  A glass-topped counter ran against the wall to the left, its shelves filled with Chinese rings, big decks of cards, and other magician’s paraphernalia. On top of the counter was a rack of magic wands.

  At the back of the shop was another counter. This one, made of wood, had a dragon carved on its front. On top of the counter sat an old-fashioned brass cash register. Juliet thought it was quite beautiful, but she was even more impressed by the stuffed owl perched on top of it. At least she assumed the owl was stuffed, until it turned its head, looked right at her, blinked twice, then uttered a low hoot.

  “Peace, Uwila!” cried a sharp voice from the back of the shop. “I know she’s there.”

  The owl looked startled.

  A moment later a woman strode through the beaded curtain that covered the door behind the counter. She was attractive, or would have been if not for a leanness in her features that made what beauty she had seem harsh and forbidding. She wore black pants, a high-necked white blouse, and a long overshirt made of red fabric and covered in designs so sharp and pointed they seemed to jab your eyes.

  Juliet wondered if she was the owner of the shop. If so, was she Mrs. Elives, Miss Elives, or Ms. Elives? She hated trying to figure out what to call an adult woman. Why couldn’t it be as simple as it was for men, where there was just one choice?

  The owl swiveled its head toward the woman, then ruffled its feathers and hooted questioningly.

  “Peace, Uwila!” said the woman again.

  The owl returned to its motionless state. Juliet could not help but notice that its eyes seemed to be filled with terror. She felt a surge of anger. Did this woman mistreat the poor thing? How could you have something as wonderful as an owl for a pet and be cruel to it?

  “Welcome,” said the woman. Her voice was dry and husky, as if she had not used it in some time. “My name is . . . Iris. How can I help you?”

  Juliet stared at her for a moment before she was able to say, “I just came in to look around. I hadn’t seen the store before. I thought I knew all the shops in town.”

  The woman smiled. “We’re a little off the beaten path.” She paused, stared at Juliet for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. “Let me show you something.” Reaching into the pocket of her overshirt, she extracted a gold chain from which hung a small, delicately carved pendant—ivory, by the look of it.

  “Cupid’s choice,” murmured the woman, her voice suddenly softer and more enticing than Juliet would have thought possible. “Here, take a closer look. Hold it for a moment!”

  When Juliet took a step forward, the woman grabbed her hand, pulled it toward her, and dropped the pendant into it.

  Startled by the sudden action, Juliet nearly turned to run out of the shop. But she was too fascinated to leave. Lifting the pendant so she could examine it more closely, she felt her heart captured by the strangely beautiful face carved into the ivory, found herself filled with a desire to own it. She noticed a tiny pair of golden hinges on one side and a miniature keyhole, also made of gold, on the other. Her fingers moved toward them.

  “Don’t!” said the woman urgently. Lowering her voice she added, “Not that you could. The hinges don’t work. Still, best not to try. You might ruin everything.”

  Juliet looked at the woman nervously. She was talking as if she were crazy. Juliet was tempted to drop the pendant and flee. But the thing was so lovely, she couldn’t help looking at it again. She couldn’t remember ever wanting an object so desperately.

  “How much is it?” she asked, knowing full well that she could never afford such an exquisite item.

  “How badly do you want it?” countered the woman.

  “Not much,” replied Juliet. This was not true. However, Juliet didn’t consider it a lie; her father had taught her about bargaining, and this was just part of the process. You never let someone know how much you wanted something.

  The woman laughed. “Fine. Just put it down and leave.”

  Juliet did place the pendant on the counter. But she found that, somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to let go of it.

  “How badly do you want it?” asked the woman again. Her face was tighter now, her eyes as steely gray as the ocean in midwinter.

  “Where did it come from?” asked Juliet, partly to gain time to think, partly because she was frightened. “Who made it?”

  The woman stared directly into her eyes. “It is the key to the world’s desire.”

  Juliet forced herself to open her fingers and let go of the pendant. She turned to go but had not walked more than three steps toward the door before she turned back. Though she was frightened by her desire for the object, she had to know more. Putting her hands firmly on either side of the ivory bauble, but refusing to allow herself to actually touch it, she asked again, “How much is it?”

  “It’s not for sale,” said the woman, smiling for the first time.

  Juliet stared at her, puzzled. What kind of gimmick was this?

  The woman’s face grew solemn. “It’s not for sale,” she repeated. “Even so, if you want it enough, you can have it. But you must want it, Juliet,
really want it. Otherwise it’s no deal.”

  Juliet looked up at the woman. “How do you know my name?”

  “That’s not the real question right now. The question is, how much do you want this amulet?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  The woman shrugged. “No one does. That’s part of what makes life so interesting.” She gestured toward the chain. “Go ahead, pick it up again.”

  Juliet hesitated, then reached for the amulet. To her surprise, she was not able to lift it off the counter. She felt a ripple of fear. What was going on here?

  The woman shrugged again, looking disappointed. “I guess you don’t want it badly enough after all.” She put her own hand over the amulet and began to slide it toward her.

  “Wait!” cried Juliet.

  The woman stopped, lifted her hand.

  Juliet reached out again. The amulet felt warm beneath her fingers. Suddenly a powerful longing swept over her, a strange and passionate need to possess it. She closed her hand over the ivory bauble and, without the slightest effort, scooped it up.

  The owl hooted ominously and ruffled its feathers. A gust of wind battered the shop windows.

  The woman, on the other hand, looked pleased. Giving Juliet a dazzling smile, she said, “I thought you might be the one. I was hoping—” She stopped and glanced over her shoulder, as if she had heard a sound, then turned back to Juliet. “You should go! Take the side door, it will get you home more quickly. Go. Go now!”

  Terrified by the change in the woman’s tone, Juliet turned. But before she could leave, the woman cried, “Wait!”

  Juliet turned back. The woman’s eyes were blazing.

  “Speak of this to no one!” she commanded.

  Juliet nodded, turned once more, and fled through the side door. To her astonishment, she found herself back in the alley where she had started.

  Had she made some sort of big circle when she ran from Bambi and Samantha? She didn’t think so—but if not, how had she arrived back here? She glanced around and was relieved to find the two girls nowhere in sight. She spent no more time thinking about them, for something stronger and stranger and more frightening was occupying her mind.