Seven Pets for Seven Witches: A Collection of Paranormal Cozy Shorts

by Annabel Chase

  The tourist chuckled. “Actually, my wife didn’t even wanna stop in Tillyhenge, but I told her the stories are just crazy talk.” He glanced back through the shop doorway at the cobbled street outside. “So far, it looks just like any other quaint little English village we’ve visited. And I haven’t met any witches… unless you’re one!”

  He laughed uproariously, and Caitlyn gave him a wan smile, wondering what he would say if he knew the truth. Of course, she was only a novice witch, and so far the only magic she’d really mastered was bewitching the ladle to stir the melted chocolate in the cauldron. Still…

  The man tilted his head to one side and regarded her curiously. “Say… you from around here? Your accent is kinda funny. You don’t sound like the other English people we’ve met.”

  Caitlyn hesitated. “Er… I was born in England but I was adopted by an American family when I was a baby.”

  “Really? Where did you live in the States? I’m from Ohio.”

  “I… I didn’t live in the States much. My adoptive mother travelled a lot.”

  “You know, you look kinda familiar. Where have I seen you before?” The man snapped his fingers. “You ever been on TV?”

  “Oh no,” said Caitlyn quickly, wondering how to change the subject. The last thing she needed was for him to start asking about her background and why she had returned to England.

  She was relieved when the door behind the counter swung open and a gangly girl of about eighteen, with frizzy red hair and a shy smile, stepped out carrying a tray of chocolate fudge brownies. A heady aroma of rich, dark chocolate and fresh baking filled the air.

  “This is my cousin, Evie. She’s helping out in the shop, like me,” Caitlyn started chattering. “It’s actually my grandmother’s shop—she’s a skilled chocolatier—but she’s gone to her weekly physiotherapy appointment for her arthritis, so we’re manning things for her…”

  Caitlyn saw Evie give her an odd look, obviously wondering why she was telling a customer so much unnecessary information. The man, however, didn’t seem to be listening. Instead, he leaned towards the tray and took a deep sniff.

  “Wow, that smells awesome!”

  “They’re Triple Chocolate Mocha Fudge Brownies,” said Evie. “They’ve just come out of the oven.”

  “Here, try a piece?” said Caitlyn impulsively, breaking off a corner and offering the morsel to the American.

  He hesitated, then took the piece and popped it into his mouth. A dreamy look came over his face. “Man… What did you put in it? I’ve never tasted anything like this! Just incredible…” He laughed. “You know, I saw the name of the shop—Bewitched by Chocolate—and I thought it was just a cheesy joke, but I gotta say, after tasting this, I totally believe in magic.”

  “Would you like to buy some?” asked Caitlyn, hoping that this time he would say “yes”.

  “Oh yeah! Give me a half a dozen pieces. And a box of chocolate truffles too—no, make that two boxes. If the brownies taste this good, the chocolates must be amazing!”

  “Which flavours would you like?”

  “Oh, anything. You pick. But I want some with those crispy cocoa nib things,” he added, chuckling.

  “Mew!” said Nibs in agreement and the man laughed and reached out to pat the kitten.

  Caitlyn was delighted. Business had been slow all day and it would be nice to have a big sale to show her grandmother when the latter got back. But she had barely grabbed the tongs and started filling a box with chocolates when a woman stormed into the shop. She was thin, almost scrawny, with a pinched expression and greying brown hair scraped back into a tight bun. Nibs hissed, the fur on his back standing on end and his tail puffing up like a bottle brush. He backed away, eyeing the woman nervously, as she came up to the counter.

  “Larry! Larry, what are you doing?” she screeched.

  “B-buying some chocolate,” stammered the man, looking guilty.

  “You know you’re not supposed to eat any candy!” the woman snapped. “You’re on a diet!

  “Aw, come on, Ida… these are really awesome!”

  “Would you like to taste one?” Caitlyn asked, offering the woman the half-filled box of chocolate truffles.

  Ida shoved the box away and glared at Caitlyn. “I don’t want your filthy chocolates and you shouldn’t be giving them to my husband either! Heaven knows what’s in them.” She looked around the shop and shuddered. “This whole place gives me the creeps. I heard that there’s an old witch who lives here and—”

  She gasped as her husband reached furtively for another piece of chocolate fudge; she smacked his hand away.

  “Hey!” Larry cried.

  “You’re on a diet, Larry! No chocolates! No cake! No candy!” She punctuated each word with a jab of her forefinger. Then she clamped a claw-like hand on her husband’s arm and towed him, still protesting, out of the shop.

  Sheesh. Talk about hen-pecked, Caitlyn thought.

  “What a horrible woman,” said Evie.

  “Mew!” said Nibs with a twitch of his tail.

  “Well, I suppose she had a point,” said Caitlyn. “If her husband is supposed to be losing weight, then he shouldn’t really be eating any chocolates.”

  “Not unless they’re magical fat-burning chocolates!” said Evie with a giggle.

  “What do you mean?”

  Evie cast a quick glance around, then stepped closer to Caitlyn and lowered her voice. “You know last week when I was looking after the herbal shop while Mum went to London? Well, I never told Mum this, but a man came into the shop. He was selling all sorts of herbs and spices—and guess what, he even had some kanel!”

  “What’s that?”

  “It’s magical cinnamon. It looks just like regular cinnamon, except that it glows red in the dark. And it’s supposed to make you burn fat really fast. But it’s really hard to find. Mum says it’s all a myth and it doesn’t really exist, but I believe it does. According to legend, you can only get it from the troll caves in Norway. Trolls always keep some sticks of kanel in their larder. They make troll tea with it.”

  Caitlyn stared at Evie. “Trolls?”

  “Yeah, trolls,” said Evie, as casually as if she were saying “cows”. “I read about them in this book of Norwegian folktales. That’s where they’re from, you know—Norway—although some people say a few of them came over to Great Britain with the Vikings. But they’ve probably all died out. They like to live in wild, isolated places, you see, under rocks and in caves and mountains, and only come out at night, because sunlight turns them into stone—but England is too flat, really. We don’t have lots of big, rocky mountains like Norway does, so there’s no place for them to hide.”

  “Ah. Right.” Caitlyn blinked, struggling to accept that trolls could be real. Although, come to think of it, she knew now that witches existed—and vampires too—so why not trolls? “So… um… this guy said he had some magical cinnamon?”

  Evie nodded excitedly. “Yes, genuine Norwegian kanel. And it was such a good price too—he said he would give me a special discount, since he could see that I had a great talent for working magic and would make good use of such a rare substance.”

  “Hmm…” Caitlyn gave her cousin a cynical look, but Evie babbled on, oblivious.

  “Anyway, I bought two sticks from him. It cost all of my pocket money… but it’s worth it! I’ve been desperate to try it out but I haven’t had a chance to sneak into the kitchen at home without Mum knowing. So today, when Grandma went out and left me in charge of the chocolate fudge brownies, I took a bit of the mocha fudge mixture from Grandma’s batch and added some grated kanel, then baked it with the rest…” Evie reached into her pocket and pulled out a small foil-wrapped packet. “Ta-da! Fat-burning chocolate brownies!”

  “Did you say ‘fat-burning chocolate’?”

  They turned to find the American tourist back at the counter once more. He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder, then said urgently:

  “Quick! My wife’s st
opped to look in an antique shop and she doesn’t know that I’ve come back here. I was gonna get some of that mocha fudge brownie… but what’s this fat-burning chocolate?”

  Evie glanced at Caitlyn, then proudly showed the foil packet to the American. “I made some Fat-Burning Mocha Fudge Brownie: the more you eat, the thinner you get!”

  “You’re kidding!” Larry’s eyes gleamed. “I’ve gotta taste some!”

  Caitlyn shifted uneasily. “Wait, Evie—are you sure…”

  But it was too late. The man had grabbed a piece of chocolate brownie from the foil packet and stuffed it into his mouth. Caitlyn watched apprehensively as he chewed and swallowed.

  Nothing happened.

  The man looked down and patted his bulging stomach. “So… when does it start working?”

  Evie frowned. “It should start working right away. Maybe you need to—” She broke off and stared as the man’s head began shrinking. Smaller and smaller, it shrank like a deflating balloon, while the rest of his body remained the same size.

  Nibs stared fascinated and reached up a curious paw. “Mew?”

  Caitlyn gasped. “Evie! What have you done?”

  “I… I don’t know!” cried Evie. “It shouldn’t be like this. He’s supposed to get thinner—his head shouldn’t get smaller!”

  “Heey! Wheet’s gaying on?” the man squeaked, sounding like someone who had swallowed too much laughing gas.

  “D-don’t worry! I can fix it!” said Evie. She grabbed the man’s head, which was now the size of an apple, on either side of his (tiny) ears and babbled frantically:

  “A spell to foil this bad surprise,

  Restore his head to normal size!”

  There was a pause, and then, to Caitlyn’s relief, the man’s head stopped shrinking. But instead of growing back to normal, it started elongating until it resembled a pointed egg.

  “Oh no…” Caitlyn groaned. “Evie, what have you done now?”

  “It should have worked!” Evie protested.

  “Larry? Larry, where are you?” A faint voice drifted in from the street outside.

  Caitlyn gasped and ran to the shop doorway. “His wife is walking back down this way! Quick, you’ve got to fix him before she gets here!”

  “I’m… I’m trying!” wailed Evie. She thought for a moment, her forehead creased in concentration, then she brightened. “Okay, okay—I’ve got it.” She raised her hands again and waved her fingers in front of the man’s face, chanting:

  “Cinnamon, thy mischief cease,

  Suspend, subside, thy hold release!”

  There was a loud bang and a big puff of smoke, which left both girls coughing and Nibs scurrying to hide under a nearby cupboard. When the air cleared, Caitlyn stared in dismay. The man now had a tiny, pointy head with purple pansies growing all over it.

  Evie reeled backwards in horror. “Aaaagghh!”

  “What’s going on here?” came a stern voice behind them.

  The girls whirled to find themselves facing an old woman who had come in from the back of the cottage. With her wispy grey hair, hooked nose, and flashing dark eyes, not to mention her hunched back and hands gnarled by arthritis, the Widow Mags looked exactly like the witches found in countless children’s stories and fairytales. Caitlyn had discovered, though, that her grandmother’s gruff manner and ferocious appearance actually hid a heart filled with warmth and wisdom. Now she breathed a sigh of relief as the old witch came forwards and took in the situation in one swift glance. Then she raised a gnarled hand and said softly:

  “Parvus cranio… Reverso!”

  There was another puff of smoke, and this time, when the air cleared, Caitlyn was immensely relieved to see Larry back to his old self. And not a second too soon. Even as the last wisps of smoke disappeared, his wife stepped back into the store.

  “LARRY, YOU RAT! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SNEAKED OFF AND—”

  Ida broke off mid-screech as she suddenly saw the Widow Mags. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, like a goldfish.

  “Yes?” the Widow Mags growled.

  “N-n-nothing!” the woman squeaked. She grabbed her husband’s arm and backed out of the shop, dragging him with her.

  There was an awkward silence after they’d left. Evie stood shame-faced, twisting her hands.

  “There’s a reason why some things are best left alone. Especially when they are nothing more than silly legends,” said the Widow Mags with a glower.

  Evie flushed. “It’s not a silly legend! Kanel does exist!”

  “Perhaps. But you should know better than to buy magical ingredients from an untrusted source, Evie.”

  “You won’t tell Mum, will you?” pleaded Evie. “She’ll have a fit if she finds out that I spent all my pocket money on this.”

  The Widow Mags sighed. “All right, all right. You’d better run along home now—unless you’d like to have dinner here with me and Caitlyn?”

  “No, I’d better go. Thank you, Grandma!” Evie gave the old witch an impulsive hug. After a wave to Caitlyn, she skipped out of the door and disappeared.

  “Mew?” said Nibs, emerging from beneath the cupboard where he had been hiding.

  He trotted up to the Widow Mags and rubbed himself against her ankles. The old witch picked up the kitten absent-mindedly and cuddled him against her chest as she headed back to the kitchen. Caitlyn hid a smile as she followed her grandmother to the rear of the cottage. She remembered the first time she had brought Nibs to the chocolate shop: “I can’t have him here, getting under everyone’s feet!” the Widow Mags had snapped.

  But it hadn’t taken Nibs long to win her grandmother over, and although she would never admit it, the Widow Mags loved having the little kitten around. Which was just as well, since he did seem to get under everyone’s feet all the time. Now, he wriggled free from the old witch’s arms and jumped onto the big wooden table, wandering over to the collection of bowls in the centre.

  The Widow Mags had been making a new batch of chocolate truffles earlier, dipping each ball of creamy chocolate ganache into melted chocolate and then rolling them in different coatings, from rich cocoa powder to chopped roasted hazelnut, finely shredded coconut to rainbow-coloured sprinkles. Every bowl held a different type of coating and Nibs poked his head into each one, sniffing curiously.

  “Nibs, stop that! Get off the table… oh, be careful!” Caitlyn cried as she saw the little kitten put a paw up on the edge of one bowl, causing it to tip towards him.

  But it was too late. The bowl flipped over, dumping its contents all over the table—and coating Nibs in a shower of fine cinnamon sugar. The little kitten sprang backwards and shook himself, sneezing. Caitlyn looked aghast at the mess on the table, then sneaked a look at her grandmother. The Widow Mags was trying to keep a stern expression but Caitlyn could see her lips twitching. The next moment, the old witch gave up pretending and burst into raspy chuckles. Caitlyn found herself laughing as well.

  “Mew!” said Nibs, looking up at them cheekily, with tiny bits of sugar sticking to his whiskers.

  “You little monkey!” said Caitlyn, shaking her head.

  She picked up the kitten and examined him. His black fur was covered with fine sugar granules, which caught the light and sparkled like fairy dust, and he smelled heavily of cinnamon. Nibs gave himself another shake, sending sugar granules flying in every direction, then wriggled out of her arms and jumped down onto the kitchen floor, leaving a trail of sugar behind him. Before she could grab him again, he had scooted away, chasing a moth that had come in the kitchen window. Caitlyn sighed and turned back to the table to start clearing up the mess, but the Widow Mags held up her hand.

  “Sometimes, it helps to know a bit of magic,” said the old witch with a twinkle in her eye. Then she waved a hand and Caitlyn watched, dumbfounded, as the spilled sugar on the table surged together and poured itself back into the bowl. A minute later, everything was neat and clean again.

  “Wow.” Caitlyn smiled. “I wish I could do th
at.”

  The Widow Mags inclined her head. “You will, one day. You have a great natural gift for working magic.”

  Caitlyn flushed with pleasure at the rare compliment. “So it doesn’t matter that I didn’t start practising from young, like Evie did?”

  The Widow Mags sighed and made a rueful face. “Evie might have been raised as a witch, but you have far greater natural talents and instincts. Evie tries hard, bless her, but her focus is weak. And she spends too much time on unworthy spells and silly fantasies,” she added with a dark look.

  Caitlyn hesitated, feeling like she should defend her young cousin. “Maybe she was just trying to help. I mean, fat-burning chocolates would sell like crazy in the shop! It sounds amazing—this kanel—if it really exists…”

  “That’s a mystery that’s not worth solving,” said the Widow Mags tartly. “Better witches than Evie have wasted years searching for the mythical kanel. I’m inclined to agree with Bertha—it’s something that only exists in folklore and fairytales.”

  Chapter 2

  That night, as she got ready for bed in her attic bedroom above the chocolate shop, Caitlyn couldn’t help thinking of Evie and the “fat-burning chocolate” again… In spite of what the Widow Mags had said, she could see why her cousin had been so excited by the thought of kanel and what it could do. It was such an amazing idea: chocolates that could make you thinner!

  Would they really work? Caitlyn remembered reading an article on how cinnamon could speed up your metabolism a bit. That was ordinary cinnamon, of course. So imagine what magical cinnamon could do… speed up your metabolism so much that you’d start burning fat away? She sighed wistfully. How amazing if there was such a thing. Her eyes strayed to the mirror and she winced at her own reflection. Born with a classic “pear-shaped” figure, Caitlyn had always been embarrassed by her big hips and curvy frame. The thought of magical chocolate which could burn away her fat was very seductive.

  Maybe if I was slim and graceful, I wouldn’t embarrass myself every time I see James, Caitlyn thought. She winced again as she remembered the time when the handsome lord of Huntingdon Manor had found her balancing precariously at the top of a ladder, trying to coax Nibs down from a huge haystack. How big her bum must have looked from that angle! And as if that wasn’t bad enough, there was that other time when she had crashed into James and they’d ended up in a heap on the floor, with her literally sitting on his stomach!