Witchin' Stix - Lissa Matthews

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by Unknown


  “Have you figured out who the demon’s source is?”

  “No.” Truthfully, I hadn’t given it the kind of thought it likely deserved.

  “You probably should.”

  “Probably.”

  “Are you listening to me?”

  “What? Yes, of course, I’m listening to you. I don’t know how the demon got the candy and I should try to piece it together, but right now I have other things to deal with. Like...” I glanced up at the time. “Is that right?”

  I was going to be late.

  *

  Downtown Blue Balls Falls was a sight to behold in the Fall. I loved seeing the warm, autumn colors stretching high into the mountains. I loved the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg in the air as it wafted out the open doors of the diner. I loved Bethilda’s decorations and the way she went all out with them.

  Yes, Fall was my favorite part of the year.

  In the street, in front of the empty space where Witchin’ Spice Bakery had been, Broo stood beside Amir, the former frog turned mate of Broo.

  “Whatcha doin’?” I asked, following their line of sight. I saw nothing out of the ordinary.

  “Trying to figure out a way to make the next creation of a building on this site, I don’t blow it the second I try to cast a spell.”

  “That would be a good thing.”

  “I think so.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “No. Amir believes he’s come up with something that will fix it.”

  “Should we stand back?”

  “Broo asked the same exact question not ten minutes ago.”

  “Great minds and all that.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Let me work, okay? Go get some lunch and get out of my hair.”

  Broo gave him an unreadable look before finally spinning on her heel and marching down the street. I shuffled to catch up.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the diner. And a window seat so I can keep an eye on him. He’s gotten a little heavy handed and too big for his britches. Thinks now that he’s no longer a frog, he can do all the things.”

  “That’s nice?” The longing in her eyes didn’t match the grumpy tone of her voice.

  “At first, yes, I’ll admit that it was, but it’s become rather annoying. His magic obeys him. Mine thwarts me at every turn.”

  “It’ll come. Magic isn’t easy and even harder to master.”

  “I don’t think I ever asked what your powers are.”

  “I can do a little of this and a little of that. I can move things, use spells, enchant items. But I make candy, for the most part. Working in the bakery was my job, but making treats and candy? That is my purpose. Right now, it’s a little useless, though.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I knew she didn’t, so I explained as best I could. When I was finished, Broo stared at me as though I’d sprouted a second head.

  “Someone is manipulating your magic?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you don’t know who or what?”

  “Nope.”

  “And Baba Yaga can’t help?”

  “Nope. At least, not that I know of.”

  “She’s a pain in the ass.”

  “That she is.”

  “Wait... Isn’t the way your hair changes color to match your outfits magic? Your magic?”

  “Yes.”

  Inside the diner, we were led to a table in the back. The menus were on the far side, stacked up behind the napkins. I hadn’t been to Lanie’s and Janie’s in months.

  “How do you get your magic to work right again?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I was trying to work out before I remembered we were meeting this afternoon.”

  “I can’t imagine what that’s like for you.” Then, Broo sighed. “There’s still so much for me to learn. Will I, do you think?”

  “Will you what? Learn? Of course you will. It’s a bumpy thing for a while, but once you get the hang of it, you’ll be a pro. Your magic will be strong, and you’ll be able to protect yourself and those who love you.”

  “Is it wrong to use it in the bakery?”

  “Depends on what you mean by use it in the bakery?

  “For the cheesecakes and other things.”

  “You just want to zap Amir in the butt again.”

  “How did you know about that?”

  “Everyone knows about that. You did it in broad daylight and in the middle of the street.”

  “He got on my nerves. He laughed at me.”

  “I know all about that.”

  “Do you have a familiar?”

  “I do. He’s a beautiful, sleek black cat named Larry. I’ve raised him for all his life and he’s a pain in the ass.” But I didn’t want to talk about Larry. I didn’t want to think about his odd behavior because if I gave it any, I’d have to admit he’d been acting strange for a while. So, I shook it off and flipped open the menu. “Now... What are we having for lunch?”

  Chapter Three

  “Do you have new Witchin’ Stix made for Fabio yet?”

  “No. And please stop popping into my house unannounced. Learn to knock like everyone else.”

  “You mean, like the demon?”

  “What do you know about that anyway?” I turned to my unwanted visitor and wanted to turn away, but the train wreck that was her outfit was something I’d never be able to unsee. Neon purple tutu with matching headband and legwarmers.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You know we were here together.”

  “Uh huh. And you know that’s not what I was talking about. I saw the not so subtle way you tried to get him to leave.”

  “I don’t know anything, Kandace. When will you have another batch of candy?”

  “I don’t know,” I said miserably. “I tried it again after you left, and it didn’t work. They were worse than sour. I don’t understand who or what is doing this. Do you think I’ll still be able to use other magic?”

  “Like what?”

  “Enchanting my kitchen and making it larger for baking cheesecakes? Turning lights on and off? I’ve been sort of afraid to try anything. I don’t want to set off some catastrophic event and not realize it.”

  She rolled her eyes in dramatic fashion. “I doubt that would happen and I wouldn’t think your other magical abilities would be affected. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll stay until you’re finished.”

  Baba Yaga in my house never made me feel better about anything. A gal should never have to squirm in her own house, but that’s what I was doing. Squirming. Fidgeting. Shifting from foot to foot.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “What’s taking them so long to get the new bakery up, anyway?”

  “Something about Amir wanting an explosion-proof one.”

  “Is there such a thing as explosion-proof with that witch?”

  I didn’t say anything, but I agreed with Baba Yaga. I adored Broo. Really, I did. But she was always one swish or flick away from blowing up the entire town. I had no idea why she couldn’t write a spell that worked right. It was rather sad. Quite funny, too, sometimes, though I tried not to laugh. To her face, at least.

  “I’ll add a protection spell to the outside of the house when I leave.”

  “Is that necessary?”

  “Do you want Broo to blow up your house?”

  Okay, so she had a point there. “No.”

  “Well, I’ll go then since you don’t have Fabio’s candy. I thought it was worth a shot to check when I stopped in town to get a new yoga tutu and some new legwarmers.”

  I wasn’t going to ask. I hadn’t had too many run ins with Baba Yaga and from some of the stories I’d heard, I didn’t want to have any more with her than were necessary.

  Larry the Cat rubbed against my legs as soon as B.Y. poofed away from the cottage. “It’ll be all right, Kandy. It will, I promise.”

  “You can’t know that. No one is any clo
ser to figuring out what went wrong.” I knelt and peered at him. “Where have you been?”

  “Out. You know I don’t like being around her.”

  “Uh huh. Out where? You’ve been disappearing a lot lately and you won’t tell me where you’ve been going.”

  “I don’t have to tell you everything I do.”

  “No, you don’t. But the fact that you’re so evasive about it... What are you up to?”

  “You act as though you don’t trust me.”

  “I’m not sure I should.”

  “I’m your familiar, but you are not my keeper.”

  My eyes grew wide and I slowly stood. His haughty tone and the coldness in his green gaze gave me pause. He’d never spoken to me that way. He’d never been less than sarcastic, and I always believed him to be my friend. In that moment, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  I took a step away, and then another... “K...” I shook my head. The damn cat would not see me cry. He would not see how much his words and his attitude toward me hurt. He wouldn’t see any weakness in me.

  He’d said it would be alright. He promised it would.

  Then, he shut me out.

  If my magic never again worked right, was there any reason at all for me to stay in Blue Balls Falls? Well, other than my baking abilities? Surely there were human owned bakeries that could use my talents.

  Would my talents work outside a magical town? Who could I ask other than Baba Yaga?

  But then I thought about my family and friends. The new business my sister’s and I were starting together, and I knew I’d never, ever be able to leave. I’d just have to figure out what was wrong, who or what had tapped into my magic.

  A sigh escaped me, and I had to put everything out of my mind because it was time for pumpkin everything.

  *

  “Wow. This is an incredible replica.”

  I spun, holding two knives in my hands. “Hiya!” I greeted Broo with a smile. “Where’s Amir?”

  “He’ll be here soon. He was grabbing some pumpkins from the Pumpkin Patch up the road. Is the fridge stocked?”

  “It is. There’s even some of Bethilda’s casseroles in it.”

  “Seriously?” Broo’s eyes widened and she made a dash for the large French doors. “Oh my Goddess above...” I glanced over my shoulder at her, seeing what she’d found to be so excited about, and found her grinning as she stared into one of the contains. “Beef Stroganoff. Bethilda makes the best stroganoff ever. Actually, she makes the best everything. I’ve never tasted food like hers in all my life.”

  “She is a pretty good cook,” I agreed.

  “The one thing I am craving is pizza and no one around here serves pizza. Surely there’s a magical pizza making guy around these parts. I haven’t had a slice since the day before Baba Yaga showed up unannounced and dropped me here.”

  “I’ve never had pizza.”

  “What?” Broo looked across the kitchen at me, her face a mix of shock and sadness, her mouth wide open. “Oh, that’s just never going to work. We have got to find a way to make you a pizza. Maybe I can learn to make one. It can’t be all that difficult.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. She was truly a disaster when it came to magic and spells and trying to make something simple happen. I didn’t want to die at her hands just because she had this inane idea that I needed to try pizza.

  “That’s okay. I’ve made it this long without one and I’m sure I’ll be able to make it longer still.”

  “You don’t trust me. I get it. I don’t trust me either, but come on, K... This is pizza we’re talking about. I’m going to look into it.”

  “Look into what?”

  “Making pizza.”

  Larry the Cat stared up at Broo, then over to Amir, back at me. I couldn’t read what he was thinking, but when he lifted his tail and did an about face, leaving the room again, I figured I didn’t want to know what he was thinking.

  “I guess maybe he was going to announce that you’d arrived,” I said to Amir, relieving him of one of the pumpkins he carried.” If this kitchen was an exact replica of the old blown up kitchen, then the pumpkins should float.

  I let go with one hand and felt the pumpkin begin to pull away from the palm of my other hand. I gave it an upward shove and for a moment it hovered a couple of inches, but soon rose higher.

  It felt... the bakery felt like home. It felt like everything was right with the world, my small world, at least.

  “When will you have a new storefront up?”

  “As soon as Broo lets me erect it.”

  “What’s the hold up this time?”

  Broo didn’t look at me as she shoveled bits of beef and sauce covered noodles in her mouth. I gave her the chance to chew and swallow, before pinning her with a stare so sharp and pointed that it would make the most people tremble.

  But that was when I had magic.

  Now it just seemed as though I was just looking at them intently.

  “Amir wants to put all kinds of charms and enchantments on the one that will prevent me from being allowed to blow it up.”

  “Why would that be a bad thing?”

  “Because it shows that he doesn’t trust me.”

  “I’ve told you a million times, baby, it’s not that I don’t trust you...”

  “Right. You don’t trust my magic. No one trusts my magic. I could write a spell for it to rain and it wouldn’t work for you. You and spells just don’t work well together.”

  “I just haven’t found the right spell,” Broo insisted, filling her fork with more noodles and beef before closing her mouth around it.”

  “There is no right spell for you, my love.”

  “There is,” she insisted.

  Amir sighed and gave her a looking of long-suffering love. I held back a smile as I wondered what love like that felt like. I’d never been in love. I’d kissed a few wizards, but never was there love. Pleasure, yes. But not love.

  I turned my attention back to the tasks at hand, baking cheesecakes. “Where’s the Staff?”

  Amir shrugged. “I don’t know. I told it where we’d be, and it got all excited, but I haven’t seen it since we left town.”

  “Well, that can’t be good.”

  “How much trouble could it get in? Everyone knows what it looks like.”

  Broo shrugged her shoulders and continued eating, unconcerned. Amir was right, but when the door to the kitchen banged open and shimmering waves of green and orange and purple glitter floated in followed by the Staff complete with black cloak and pointed hat, I couldn’t help but giggle.

  “What in the hell?” Broo said around a mouthful.

  The Staff sashayed toward me and made a grand gesture of a bow, its hat nearly falling off. Of course, I curtsied. “Why yes, I would be delighted to dance with you.”

  And as though the Staff was a flesh and blood wizard, I pretended to hold his shoulder and hand and followed its every move.

  “We used to do this at the beginning of every pumpkin season. We’d open the bakery with a dance in the kitchen, the Staff and I and your mother, Broo. We’d flit and fly around the pumpkins and eggs and laugh.

  It was our ritual. It was our tradition.

  “But there’s no music.”

  Amir took the fork and bowl from Broo and set them on the counter, then pulled her in close. “Who needs music when there’s love in our hearts playing a tender melody.”

  “Oh please...”

  “Come, my darling Broomhilda, let’s dance.”

  Broo stomped on his foot, nearly falling backward when Amir let go abruptly. “Don’t call me Broomhilda. And I haven’t decided yet if I love you. I’m not sure I know what love is.”

  “You do. You have it for pasta.”

  “I don’t think pasta love and love for a warlock is the same thing.”

  “No. It’s not, but I’d take it as a place to start.”

  While Broo and Amir bickered back and forth, the Staff and
I continued twirling around the kitchen. When we came full circle, we stopped and I stilled so I could catch my balance and my breath. A butcher block cutting board slid into place on the stainless steel counter and one of the pumpkins settled on top. Utensils joined in next, and I set about cutting into the top of the pumpkin, then slicing it down the grooves.

  The kitchen soon smelled delicious.

  “What can I do?” Broo asked, dismissing Amir with a wave of her hand. Amir simply shook his head and joined me at the island.

  “Nothing. You can sit on one of the stools and supervise.”

  “Y’all really don’t trust me, do you?”

  “No, we really don’t.”

  “Well, as long as I’m not doing magic, why don’t you?”

  “Because we have it on good authority that you can’t bake.”

  “Whose authority?”

  “Yours.”

  “Oh.”

  “And Baba Yaga.”

  “Meddlesome woman.” Her grumbled words were barely audible. I couldn’t disagree. B.Y. was meddlesome, but she had reason being head witch and all. As stated before, I didn’t really care for her, either, but she did her best by all the witches and wizards and always had the best interest of the magical community at heart.

  I slid the knife between the pumpkin meat and the skin, then cut the pumpkin into chunks. I’d roast them until they were soft and able to be mashed.

  “Can someone get the spices?”

  The Staff obliged while Amir took care of the second pumpkin that had settled on the cutting board.

  “Oh, so he gets to play with pumpkins and knives.”

  “Do you want to try?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do. Not. Pout. Broo... You know I can’t resist it when you pout.” Amir sighed and picked up the cutting board. “Fine, but the first slice of your finger and we’re done.”

  “You make it sound like I’ve never handled a knife before. At least, not successfully.”

  “Have you?”

  “No. I always cut myself. I tried coring an apple one year when the power was out and ended up cutting a chunk out of my finger.” She held up the ring finger of her right hand and sure enough, there was a wedge missing from the flesh.

 

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