Beezley and the Witch series Box Set

by Willow Mason

  “Before you go, I’d like to try a trick,” I said to Aloysius. “Since your sire doesn’t appreciate your human assistance, perhaps you should fulfil a different role.”

  The green spun out towards Aloysius and Porangi. Its song directed me through each step, leading me to follow a trail of magic breadcrumbs that wouldn’t lead me astray.

  This wasn’t like the white magic where I had to concentrate all my effort for small rewards. It wasn’t like the crimson magic where I felt it had more control than I did.

  Green was a partnership. A strong force but not so rigid it wouldn’t bend itself to my will. The colour swirled around the pair, turning opaque, then blowing apart as though a stiff breeze had swept it away.

  Aloysius stood and stared at me through confused eyes, his tongue hanging from his mouth. I’m sure if he’d been able to speak, he would have been upset, but the most he managed was a series of annoyed yaps.

  “Porangi.” I grabbed hold of his new human hands and swung him in a circle as though we were children. “That’s you in there, isn’t it?”

  “It’s me,” the muddled mutt said with Aloysius’s mouth before he stared in wonder at Aloysius’s hands.

  “You swapped them? Familiar to familiar.” Glynda laughed and clapped her hands together. “Oh, that’s glorious.” She turned to my father. “Now, get out of here before a worse fate befalls you or your pet.”

  She snapped her fingers—not able to make him disappear as Wallace could but with enough magic to fetch the man and his dog a broom.

  “I said this to you last time, but it bears repeating. Don’t come back here. Ever. You’re not welcome.”

  With the rest of the coven crowding behind her in support, my father didn’t argue. He popped the newly chihuahua-ed familiar on the pointy end of the broom and Glynda catapulted him into the sky.

  “It would be a terrible thing if I’d miscalculated,” she said with a note of mischief in her voice. “Could you imagine if my travel magic only got them halfway home?”

  Lucinda carried Brianna in her arms as she approached us. “My daughter isn’t in the right mood to say this but thank you.”

  Marlon inclined his head, saying nothing while Binky foraged a mouthful of juicy cress from the ground.

  “Yeah,” Brianna muttered under her breath. “Thanks for nothing.”

  “Until we appoint a new supreme,” Glynda said, putting a hand on Brianna’s arm. “Then I’ll continue to dispense the duties of the office, as needed. You mightn’t feel up to the task at the moment, but on behalf of Fernwood Gully, I’d like to extend the offer to perform the role of mermaid parade for our town, for as long as you like.”

  Brianna buried her face into her mother’s chest, but Lucinda gave Glynda a grateful smile. “We’ll talk,” she promised before escorting her daughter along the path.

  “I should get going, too,” Glynda said, giving me another hug. “With all the changes coming, I need to set my old office in order. I don’t mind being booted out of the supremeship but I’d hate to leave behind a messy desk.”

  My throat clutched at her sacrifice but I just dumbly nodded. I didn’t trust myself to say anything that wouldn’t lessen the honour of her gift.

  In dribs and drabs, the rest of the coven took their leave of the circle, chattering all the way. This would be a spectacle to fuel the town gossips for years to come. Beezley sat in the spot where he’d resumed his form, not moving, not barking, not showing interest in anything at all.

  “Hey, boy,” I said, holding my hand out for him to sniff as I ventured near. “Do you remember me?”

  His sad eyes stared at me forlornly and I felt like weeping. It was obvious from his apathy the reverse transformation had stunned him. Without his memory of what had come before, he wouldn’t understand. He’d have to learn to live as a dog all over again.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t so more,” Marlon said, sitting nearby with Binky on his lap. “His memory was nothing to do with me so I can’t reverse that part of the spell.”

  “I understand. You’re not to blame.” I gave the man’s hand a squeeze, then let it go and sighed. “It doesn’t make this any easier.”

  My hands were glowing pink, a strange colour with a strange tune accompanying the spell. I should get in touch with Trevor as soon as possible. If anyone knew what to do with all these different shades of magic, it would be him.

  Marlon laughed. “I can hear them singing from over here. Why don’t you just let them out to do what they want to do?”

  “Once upon a time, I did that, and a hotel fell on my head.”

  He held up his hands, indicating the trees and rustling branches overhead. “No hotels around here.”

  No. Nothing but nature and a new song who desperately wanted to be heard. Beezley put a paw on my knee and whined.

  “Okay. Here goes nothing, buddy.”

  The magic trickled off my fingers, rising to a surge that swept in a joyful harmony around the French bulldog’s head. A choir of different voices, pushing and pulling the melody until it swept into silence, only to start again.

  I added my voice to the chorus, no words, just a trail of notes that harmonised with the spells surrounding Beezley. When I inhaled, the pink magic trilled, then rushed into my mouth, tucking itself away in my belly.

  “Was that meant to happen?”

  Marlon shrugged. “Sometimes, what will be will be and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  The sentiment didn’t sit right with me.

  Beezley sneezed and put a paw to his eye, dancing a step to the side. “What on earth has been going on around here? My head’s banging like a drum.”

  I laughed and clapped a hand over my mouth when he sent a sour expression my way. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, you should be.” He sniffed at Marlon’s boots, then poked at Binky’s thick shell. “Weren’t you meant to be changing me back into a human?”

  “It didn’t work,” I said before Marlon could get a word in. “If he’d done the exchange, you’d be stuck with the life span of a… well, what you are now. By leaving you as a French bulldog, you’ll have full human longevity.”

  “Cursed to be a dog forever, eh?” Beezley sneezed again. “What’ve I been sniffing? It feels like my nostrils are on fire.”

  “How about we get you home and put you in the bath? Once you clean yourself off, I’m sure you’ll feel a thousand times better.” I looked back at Marlon. “Are you okay to get home again? The council could at least have dropped you back where you belong.”

  “I’m good. I know where the bus stop is now, so I’ll soon be out of your hair.”

  “You’re welcome to stay overnight with us if you want.” After just one day shut out of Beezley’s affections, it seemed strange to offer, but what a dog didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Speaking of which… “Although, on second thoughts, the sofa might be a bit damp. Harriet can put you up again, though, or arrange for a broom.”

  I was about to curse black magic for being the non-user-friendly form, then bit my tongue. With the spells only just back in my body, singing happily, I didn’t want to disparage them. I’d give them a week or two to readjust before I tried that.

  “Honestly, the bus is lovely. At this time of night, it’ll be half-empty, and I can doze in the back until we arrive at the other end.”

  “Can I take you up on the offer?” Porangi asked as Marlon slowly walked away, holding Binky in his arms. “Now I’m in my new form, I’ll need somewhere to stay.”

  He patted down his new body, turning this way and that as he admired the new behind.

  “As long as you remember how you left it the last time and help us clean up.”

  “Oh, right!” Porangi snapped his fingers. “Honestly, I’ve been trying over and over to get you to follow me to Santa’s workshop and you kept not doing it. I was starting to think your mind was completely blown apart from being held captive.”

  “Santa’s workshop?”

  “
Okay, if you insist, I’ll call it Archie’s shed but we both know it means the exact same thing. I was terrified not only that he’d died but all the love he poured into the gifts he made over the past year would moulder away to nothing in a locked greenhouse.”

  Porangi grabbed hold of my arm and dragged me through the woods, Beezley following hot on our heels. “I thought I was the one with a traumatic brain injury but the way you couldn’t follow a simple pattern, it left me with genuine concerns for how your mind functions.”

  “What pattern?”

  “I do something naughty and you chase me.” Porangi stopped for a moment, planting his hands on his hips. “It’s the only way I could think to lead you to Archie’s body. The poor man didn’t have many friends and the word around town was you were good at listening to dogs.”

  Beezley bristled. “Hey, mate. Watch who you’re calling a dog.”

  “Then, even after I got you to do it that first time, I couldn’t get you to follow me again. I was becoming quite frantic.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You pulled a sprinkler into my home and destroyed it just to get me to chase you?”

  Beezley’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait. What?”

  “Can you think of a better plan? Considering I’m a small dog who’s lost his ability to speak to witches? If I knew how to communicate, I’d still be bonded as a familiar instead of cast out of your society altogether.”

  “Sorry about that. Grace Jeddens is an ungrateful witch.” I trailed along behind as Porangi jogged back to the roadside. “Didn’t you enjoy being with Archie?”

  “Yes. He was a lovely foster Daddy after I was spurned by the coven. Who doesn’t want Santa for their dad?”

  Beezley’s set of keys had disappeared along with his trousers but I had a spare set in a magnet case under the chassis.

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that,” Beezley whispered, putting a paw over his eyes.

  “Down this road, turn left,” Porangi instructed, bouncing on the passenger seat with excitement. “Take another left up ahead, then straight on until you hit the end of the road, and we’ll travel the rest by foot.”

  We ended up at an allotment where a communal garden burgeoned with summer vegetables and berries. At the end of a muddy field, sat a large shed with a well-trodden path to the door. “He kept the keys in a fake rock,” Porangi said, squatting down and sniffing deeply. “These noses you have are useless for smelling things out.”

  “But luckily we have hands,” I said, picking up and discarding a few real stones before the fake one revealed itself. “Here we go.”

  When I opened the door, the gathering gloom of late evening dissipated in a vibrant display of colour, flashy metal, and wood carved with loving hands.

  “It’s like a Christmas miracle,” I whispered, my eyes filling with tears of joy. “Thank you for leading us here.”

  I picked up Beezley and linked arms with Porangi, staring in wonderment at the bounty inside.

  At last, Christmas had wrought its magic in a spirit of love and giving that even death couldn’t destroy.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Wow.” I stepped back in wonder as Glynda joined us in the beachside carpark. “You look fantastic!”

  She primped her hair a little, tucking a stray strand caught by the wind back into the elaborate beehive and wrinkling her nose at the compliment. “Thank you. I could put it down to good genes or healthy living, but I believe it’s finally losing the constant strain of being a responsible person. Not being supreme is really growing on me.”

  “Porangi,” Harriet squealed with far more enthusiasm than I’d expect from their short acquaintance. She hurried over and pulled him into a bearhug while Glynda looked on with a bemused expression. “It’s so good to see you.”

  I stepped back and examined the man with fresh eyes. Since his mind was no longer encased in an injured brain, Porangi had proven to be a delight. He was quick-witted with an engrained kindness that was refreshing to witness.

  Aloysius had made the same body appear weaselly and repulsive but Porangi wore it like the world’s most expensive tailored suit. A sight for sore eyes.

  “You know,” Beezley said, tapping my foot with his paw. “Since you performed a body swap with no ill effects for Porangi, maybe one day you can do the same for me.”

  “Once we find a miserable sod who deserves to be cast into the body of a dog forever,” Glynda said, overhearing. “Not that you deserved it, mind, but the coven can’t afford to do anything underhanded while the council still has its eyes on us.”

  “It’s a deal,” I said, shaking Beezley’s paw to seal the contract. “We’ll keep an eye out for a prime target in any future cases.”

  He ran down the beach, pounding into the surf, then jumping back. In the days since his alteration, Beezley had embraced his French bulldog form. Now the issue of a short life had been mitigated, his mind appeared at peace. Toss in the bone of hope for a body swap in the future, and his mood lightened to featherweight.

  “Do you two mind?” Glynda grumbled as Harriet openly flirted with Porangi. “There’s an entire beach to explore, and it appears you need some alone time.”

  Not one to let an opportunity get away, the pair jogged farther along the beach. Porangi caught Harriet around the waist when she stumbled, then left his arm there.

  “Young love,” Glynda said with a hint of resentment. “Give me a pair of slippers and a sofa to myself any day.”

  A trio of young broom riders swept past, ruffling my neat pageboy as they ventured too close. I jumped back and laughed as my shoe landed in a dip, leaving me whirling my arms for balance. “What I wouldn’t give to fly again.”

  “Get enough votes for supreme and you can commandeer the town’s network to fly wherever you please.”

  I sent a shocked expression Glynda’s way, turning her words over in my mind to make sure she’d actually said them.

  “I doubt anyone would vote for me,” I finally said in a small voice. “Considering the year, I’ve had.”

  “It’s precisely because of the year you’ve had that I recommend it.” Glynda scanned me from head to toe. “Not that you have to make your mind up this minute. The vote isn’t for another month. Plenty of time to canvas.”

  “From excommunicated to supreme in six easy lessons,” I said in a light tone, mocking the very idea. “I think I’ll stick to investigations. They get me in enough trouble as it is.”

  Glynda waved in recognition of the friends and colleagues we passed. Mrs Eggsby ran a few steps towards her with a ferocious scowl, no doubt at some wrongdoing, then stopped. She rubbed her forehead in confusion and returned to her earlier position.

  “Another benefit of not being supreme any longer is I no longer get told everybody’s little gripes.” Glynda hooked her arm through mine and pointed far out, to the heads. “Is it my imagination or is that a little fishy heading our way?”

  Waves along the horizon danced in formation and I smiled, gesturing to Beezley to come watch. His pudgy legs wouldn’t get him the best view, so I lifted him onto one shoulder, gripping on for dear life.

  “Keep a lookout for the dolphins,” I yelled to be heard above the rush of waves crashing in the ocean. “They’re always my favourite.”

  An orca, either roped in by Brianna’s magic or just playing, sprang out of the water, twisting its body, then dropping back into the waves, sending a plume three metres into the sky. A row of dolphins, as coordinated as synchronised swimmers, danced backwards on their tales, squeaking merrily.

  “Look over there,” Beezley said, nearly unbalancing himself from his perch as he pointed an excited paw to the swimming dock. The water drew back on all sides, letting it lower, then a trio of elephant seals glided onto the slick surface, honking.

  Brianna turned the seawater into a spectacular as good as any fireworks display. Drops flew and twisted, turned and dazzled as they caught the sun, stretching dozens of metres into the air.

&n
bsp; A spume formed a complex arch across the harbour, the white tips so pretty they put flowers to shame. Seaweed turned into tinsel as the mermaid raised a gigantic seawater tree.

  “When you told me about this, I had no idea,” Beezley said in a stunned voice, trying to peer in all directions at once.

  “The mermaid parade is the best thing about Christmas,” I shouted, laughing joyously as the dolphins jumped into the air, one after the other, barking in happiness.

  “Hey. The second-best thing,” Harriet said in a scolding tone as she walked up, hand-in-hand with Porangi. “You’re forgetting the joy on the littlest townsfolk’s faces when Santa hands out his handmade toys.”

  Since Archie had joined the ranks of the dearly departed, Porangi had volunteered to take over his mantle. The gift-giving would commence later in the day, in Fernwood Gully’s town square. Humans and witches alike would gather to marvel at the delicate creations and rejoice in the happiness of the youngest generation.

  “How about we call it first equal?” I suggested, earning a pleased smile. “Next year, we should schedule these on the same day again. There’s no reason to have them a week apart when we can explode the town with joy on a single fantabulous day.”

  “Too much of a good thing.” Glynda’s tone was warning but her face was wreathed in a smile. “That’s the sort of decision a future supreme would be in charge of making.”

  “Ooh.” Harriet clapped her hands. “Are you running?”

  “I can’t believe you don’t think it’s the worst idea ever,” I said with a hint of exasperation. “This is crazy talk. The other witches would never support such a ludicrous notion.”

  “They would.” Harriet wiggled her eyebrows. “If they ever want to take a volume of spells out of the library again. Oh, you could get me extra funding. Just in time, too, because there’s an old estate on the west coast that came on the market and the coven in charge doesn’t know the goldmine they’re sitting on.”