“That song makes no sense,” Cora says. She places her hand on her belly. “I’m not going to teach my child that song. My kid is most certainly going to go around the mud puddles.”
“Oh come on,” Marley says playfully. “Splashing through mud puddles is fun.”
“Yes, it can be,” Annie says. “But trekking through a spell that might make all of us go blind is quite another thing.”
“Maybe we’re overreacting,” I say. “Maybe this spell isn’t as dangerous as we think.”
Cora shakes her head. “It says it right at the bottom of the directions! ‘Warning—if performed incorrectly, this spell could cause permanent, irrevocable blindness’.”
I scrunch up my lips. “It does say that, doesn’t it?” I hang my head.
We’re all quiet for a minute. I reach for my tea and give it a slurp. Yum! Mandarin orange spice.
Annie picks up a plate of cookies. She places one on her saucer next to her tea, and then passes the plate to me. As she passes it she says, “We’re just going to have to be careful, is all. I don’t think anyone wants to stop our journey towards becoming witches just because of a little warning like that. Cookie?”
I accept the plate. As I stash two cookies on my saucer I say. “You’re right. We can’t let fear stop us. Studying magic is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. If I have to risk my eyesight, that’s—”
Cora interrupts. “I don't want to risk my eyesight!” she laments.
“We’re going to be careful, dear,” Annie says, patting Cora’s arm.
I look down at the page again. “Yes. We’ll just have to do it right the first time. Maybe if we prepare really well we won’t make any mistakes.”
“I sure hope so,” Marley says.
“Would someone like to read it aloud?” Annie asks.
“Sure,” I say. My mouth is now full of cookie. I swallow, wash it down with tea, and then start reading:
‘Do you know how to see? Do you really?
Your body’s eyes do not see, child. You are blind. You think you see, but you do not.
Don’t fret! When you learn to cast the Vision Spell, you will see—to see truly—for the first time.
You will learn to envision your world.
To do this, you need to stop seeing in the old way. Thus, our spell, the Vision Spell, can also be referred to as The Willing Blindfold Spell.
Are you ready?’
I stop reading and look up at the group.
Marley is munching on her cookie. Cora has picked up her knitting project, and her fingers move the needles together rhythmically. Annie sips her tea and gives me a nod. Her eyes are sparkling. “Read on,” she prompts me.
I grin. There’s no way I would have the courage to continue studying this book if it wasn’t for the magical moments like this one. A little spark of magic passes between Annie and I when our eyes connect, and I can feel Cora and Marley’s comforting presence in my bones. I guess that’s what being in a coven is all about.
We couldn’t study magic alone, but we can do anything when we’re together.
I start reading aloud again.
“Directions:
Gather your materials. You will need: A blindfold for each witch. Seven white candles. A white handkerchief, frankincense and cypress essential oils, and a rose quartz. Matches. An appropriate amount of time set aside.
Instructions:
Place the handkerchief in a folded triangular pattern on the ground in front of you. If in a group, each witch must be situated in equal distances around the handkerchief, with the base of the triangle lining up to the north and south.
Note—while some spells must be performed alone, this spell is best performed as a group. True vision is related to hearing with the heart, and when witches work in concert with each other, the ‘sounds’ of vision resonate.
I stop there. “This is just too much for me,” I say, letting the papers fall down onto the stack of pattern books. “Hearing with the heart? Resonate? This is super complicated. Either that, or it’s total gibberish. I can’t decide which.”
Marley speaks. “I don’t think it’s gibberish,” she says.
Cora’s needles click together. “It’s not so difficult,” she says. “It’s like colors. Certain wavelengths are perceived as blue, or red, or yellow. They’re really just different wavelengths of energy.”
“Right,” I say with a sigh. This discussion is getting way to science-ey for my taste. I pick up my cookie and chomp into it. It’s soft and sweet; the chocolate chips are still warm and melty. Annie must have just pulled these cookies from the oven right before our meeting. No wonder it smells so good in here!
“It’s the same thing with sound and sight,” Cora says. “It’s all just different wavelengths of energy, but our body perceives it as either color or sound.”
I take another big bite of the cookie, thinking about Cora’s words.
Actually, it’s making a tiny bit of sense to me. Not a lot, but a smidgeon.
“I’ll take a turn reading,” Cora says.
“Thanks,” I say with my mouth full. Cora gives me a disapproving look. I give her a thumbs up.
She rolls her eyes at me, and then begins. “While seated, bid goodbye to your old way of seeing. Each witch must release seeing with the body’s eyes. Each witch must speak with complete honesty on why they are ready to no longer see with the body’s eyes.”
“Yikes,” I say, adjusting my glasses. “This is where it gets even weirder. I mean, how can I honestly say I’m ready not to see with my eyeballs anymore? I need my eyeballs!”
No one has an answer for me.
“I don't see how we can do this spell correctly if we can’t honestly say this part out loud. I mean, we’re going to do this together, right? So each of us must be able to say that we no longer want to see? I don't think I’ll be able to honestly say that. Could you guys?”
There’s a beat of silence and then Marley speaks. “I don’t see how I could do massage without seeing,” she says.
“Running the café without eyesight would be nearly impossible,” says Annie.
“It’s scary to think about,” Cora says. “I think we can all agree on that. We rely on what we see around us.”
“Of course we do!” I say.
“I think that’s pretty normal,” Marley says.
“Nothing we should feel bad about,” Annie says.
“Then how are we going to do this spell?” I ask. “How are we going to move forward? We’re stuck.”
Click, click, click, go Cora’s knitting needles. Blueberry Muffin gives a few soft yips. Cora puts down her scarf and rustles through her bag until she finds a baby bottle. She holds it down for Blueberry who starts sucking on it.
I polish off the rest of my cookie, hoping that the sugar rush will give me some brilliant thoughts.
It doesn’t.
“Well,” Annie says, after a stretch of silence. “I vote that we set this aside for the time being, and head up to the portal gate. We can at least get the Watch Spell done tonight, even if we’re stuck on Cycle Five. And perhaps as we move through this next week, some new insights will come to us regarding vision. What do you say?”
It’s unanimous. All of us love Annie’s idea. I think we’re all feeling stuck and nervous about this Cycle Five stuff, and getting the Watch Spell out of the way will be a nice change of pace. We start packing up our knitting supplies, clearing off the table, and bundling up to face the chilly outdoors.
Soon Annie has locked the café doors behind us and we’re piling into Marley’s van. Fifteen minutes and a quarter of the ‘Soul Revolution’ album by Bob Marley later, we arrive at the portal gate.
When we pile out of the van I lead the way towards the metal fence that signifies the portal to other realms. We line up facing the fence. I take a piece of folded paper from my jacket pocket. Now that it’s nearing six, the sky is a thick opaque grey. Snow is building up in the clouds, and starting to spit down a
round us. The wind has settled slightly, but it’s still frigid out—and getting colder as the sky gets darker by the minute. Though the daylight is fading fast, it’s enough to read by.
“Alright,” I say aloud. “Everyone put your watches on.”
“We’re just going to jump right into it?” Cora asks, before pulling her scarf up over her nose.
I pull my coat hood up over my hat to protect my neck from the falling snow flakes. “I don’t want to stay out here any longer than we have to!” I say. “Do you?”
Cora does not. Neither do the other ladies. And so, once all of us have strapped our old and broken watches around our wrists, I begin reading aloud the spell that I’ve prepared.
“Magic of the day,
Magic of the night,
Our Terra Coven
You will soon delight
Take away the burden
Of keeping an eye on this gate
We relinquish this task
But we won’t leave it to fate
Transform the watches
That we now wear!
If a being wishes to enter
Please make us aware
Alert us with beeps, flashes,
Or even a song
Whatever method you use
Please don’t let it take long
Immediate notification
Is what we desire
So that troubling events
Will never transpire.
Help us maintain safety and order
In this Earth Realm of ours
For this we give thanks
to the sun, moon and stars.”
I finish. My words swirl around us along with the falling snowflakes for a moment or two. The echo of my voice bounces off the cliff to our left.
As the words fade away, the grey sky turns suddenly black. The sun has finally slipped too far below the mountains to provide any light. In the sudden thick darkness, I grin. The change in lighting is a good sign. It means that the universe has heard our call. Our spell has been cast.
We pile back into the van. Marley cranks the heat and then steers the VW down the rocky, bumpy, mountain pass road. When we reach town, she turns in the direction of Annie’s house. She’ll drop us off one by one. It’s too cold and dark to bike home. I’ll get a ride from Marley and then walk into town and pick up my bike in the morning.
“I was just here this morning,” I say, looking out the window as we near Juniper Street, which is just one block from Annie. “Down at the far end. Talking to Rich and Victoria, actually.”
I’m about to fill my friends in on the case that I’m working on when we pass Juniper Street and I catch sight of flashing lights.
“Stop!” I call out.
Marley hits the brakes. We all jerk forward a little bit. “What?” Marley asks, concerned.
“Lights!” I say. “Ambulance and police lights... down at the end of the street there!”
“Want me to drive down so we can see what’s going on?” Marley asks.
“Yeah. Definitely.” I turn to the back seat and look at Cora and Annie. “Do you guys mind?” I ask.
The ladies are all for a little exploring. Marley backs up slightly, and then cranks the wheel so that we’re heading down Juniper Street.
“They’re way down at the end,” Marley says. “On the right. That’s—”
I finish her sentence for her, “Rich and Victoria’s house.” I gulp. What the heck are police and medics doing at the Dempsey’s?
“What do you think has happened?” Annie asks, leaning forward so that her face is between the driver and passenger seats. “Rich has been getting around so well with that new cane of his! And he seems to be in good health, though I don’t know if he ever fully recovered from the pneumonia he had last winter.”
“And Victoria is doing well too, I think,” Cora says, her voice concerned. “I saw her just two days ago at the Post Office.”
“I saw them this morning,” I say, my tone just as concerned. “I hope nothing happened!”
“This morning!” Marley says, surprised. She looks over at me and raises her brows. “What were you doing there this morning?”
We’re just two houses away now, and I’m feeling nervous. Are Rich and Victoria okay?
“It's a new case I’m working on,” I say. “For Rebecca.” I feel kind of guilty as I say this. After all, the case centers around Marley’s grandfather, and seems to involve her dad too. I just spent all evening with Marley, and yet I haven't said one peep about the case. Why?
I know why.
I’m afraid that she’ll be upset with me.
Shoot. I should have said something earlier. I should have called her the minute Rebecca asked me to investigate the forged document.
Better late than never, right?
“The case involves your grandpa Felix,” I blurt out, just as we pull to a stop right behind the ambulance. The back doors of the emergency vehicle are open.
I turn and look towards Rich and Victoria’s bungalow. The front door opens. Medics spill out onto the front steps.
“What do you mean?” Marley asks. “How can it involve Grandpa Felix? He died decades ago.”
“I know,” I say. “It’s about his will.” As I stare at the Dempsey’s door, I see the medics begin to pull something out of the house. A stretcher! It’s on wheels. They lift it up, so that they can make it down the stairs, and then they begin rolling it down the walk way. They’re not in a hurry. They’re moving rather slowly, actually.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” asks Marley.
I see two police officers emerge from the house. My ex-boyfriend, Captain Chris Wagner is one of them.
“I’m sorry,” I say, turning to my friend. I raise my eyebrows. “I didn’t think it was a big deal at first. I thought it was just a quick little case. But then today it got more complicated.”
I turn back to the window. “They’re walking really slow,” I say aloud. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”
“More complicated?” Marley echos. “Will you tell me what’s going on, Penny?”
“I’m not sure...” I say, as I reach for the van’s door handle. I push the door open. “Let me talk to Chris. Let’s see what’s going on here.”
I hope that the ambulance and police car have nothing to do with my visit to Rich and Victoria earlier that day. The knot in my stomach, however, informs me that I’m pretty sure it does. The timing is too synchronistic.
I was just here. This morning.
I have a flash in my mind of Victoria, standing on her porch and watching me. I shiver, chilled by the ominous memory.
I approach Chris. He’s walking next to the stretcher, speaking to a medic. “I’ll have the coroner rendezvous with you at the clinic,” he says.
Now that I’m closer I can see that the body on the stretcher is covered with a white sheet—from head to toe.
Uh oh. That’s not good. And I don’t like the way Chris just mentioned the coroner.
I swallow hard.
One medic hops into the back of the ambulance while the other lines the stretcher up.
Chris is still talking. He’s using his captain voice. “You can fill out the report there. I’ll stay here with Victoria and help her place calls to family members.” Chris spots me and gives me a quick, business-like smile.
I lift my hand in a wave.
“Sound like a plan?” Chris asks the medic.
“Sounds good Wagner,” the medic answers. He and his partner finish loading the stretcher in the back, and they close the doors behind them. A third medic approaches us.
I just stand there, feeling queasy, as the third medic addresses Chris. “We’re good to go, Wagner?” he asks.
Chris gives an official nod. The medic departs, and I watch him climb into the driver’s seat. I look back to Chris. White and red flashing lights illuminate his face.
He eyes me. “What’s up, Penny?” he asks.
“Sorry...” I say. “I know you’re b
usy—but... what’s going on here?”
“Richard Dempsey just passed away,” Chris says.
“No way,” I say. “You’re telling me... Rich Dempsey is dead?”
Chapter Six
Chris nods. “Heart attack. Victoria called it in. Rich was unconscious and in cardiac arrest when the medics arrived. They tried to stimulate his heart with shocks but it was too late.”
I frown. “Chris... you should probably know that Rich was involved in an investigation I was conducting. I was here questioning him just this morning.”
Chris narrows his eyes. “That’s too bad,” he says. “Looks like you won’t be able to question him again.”
“I know,” I say. “But that’s not my point. My point is what if this wasn’t a natural death? Did you guys even consider that?”
The ambulance has pulled away, and now Chris is illuminated by the flashing blue and white lights of his cop car that is parked two spaces down. Even though the lighting is crazy, I can tell that he’s become pale.
“This isn’t a crime scene,” he says. “Rich died of a heart attack, plain and simple.”
“How do you know that?” I ask. “Chris, come on. You are as aware as I am that poisons can cause heart attacks. What if Rich’s heart attack wasn’t natural? What if it was induced?” I push my glasses up on my nose, feeling smart for my use of the word ‘induced’.
Go me!
If I wasn’t standing right in front of Chris, I’d give myself a literal pat on the back. That’s a fun habit I’m into lately. It’s a good reminder to give myself credit when I deserve it. And I do deserve it now. I’m on fire.
I look up at Chris. “Potassium chloride, for example,” I say, grateful that Turkey’s been helping me go over my PI notes almost every morning for the past month. I think back to a recent lecture Turkey read telepathically—‘Medical Murders: How to spot them, stop them, and collect evidence if you’re too late’. What was the name of that other poison? Oh yeah! “Or wolfsbane,” I say. “Both of those can cause what looks like a natural heart attack.”
Chris’s adams apple moves up and down as he gulps.
A Hillcrest Witch Mystery Collection Page 74