by Sam Cheever
I pulled into a small parking lot and killed the engine, my headlights casting an intrusive wash of light over the pretty white framing of the delicate gazebo.
I’d spent many a happy day escaping the hot sun or a deluge of rain under the protective roofline of that gazebo. Growing up, visiting the Enchanted Park gazebo for picnics and magical rejuvenation had been a favorite outing.
I hadn’t known then that my mother was preparing me for my role as keeper. Or that the special shape and location of the gazebo gave it magical properties that replenished spent magical energy.
I’d never visited the park at night.
Common sense told me it would be exactly the same, only darker. But the fact that the pretty little gazebo was surrounded by dense tree growth, shadows pulsing just beyond the small well-kept lawn that encircled it like a protective moat, made it an entirely unique, even discomfiting experience.
Mr. Wicked jumped up from where he’d been curled in my lap and batted at a flying bug beating itself against the window. Watching him, I had to grin that I’d thought he’d been talking to me earlier. He was just a goofy cat that I loved more than anything. A goofy, magically-talented cat with mad skills. But he was still a cat.
When I didn’t make a move to get out of my car, Rustin glanced my way. “Is there something wrong?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve just never experienced it at night.”
“Ah.” He smiled. “Well, then you’ve been missing out. Come on, let me show you.”
He disappeared from the seat and reappeared outside.
I gave a sigh, wrenching my door open and stepping out into the night. Mr. Wicked jumped out too, disappearing across the grass with his tail snapping the moist air. He was a kitty with a mission. I said a silent prayer to the goddess that legions of crickets wouldn’t suffer violent deaths as a result of that mission.
I stood in the gravel looking around for a moment, the scent of ozone making my nose itch, and the soft touch of a moist breeze confirming an imminent storm.
The familiar sound of chirping from thousands of crickets filled the area around the structure, the rustle of leaves high above my head serving as the soundtrack to the insects’ joyful melody. I pulled in a deep breath, closing my eyes and letting the natural music settle over me.
“Naida?”
My eyes popped open. I searched the area for the ghost witch, finding him standing under the gazebo, his form painted by prancing silver lights.
I smiled at the pretty picture. “Fairy lights?”
He shook his head, pointing toward the fat moon. “Special markings on the top and sides transform the moonlight into dancing light.”
I stepped under with him, gasping with pleasure as the lights pirouetted over me, leaving behind little spurts of happy energy wherever they touched. I held my arms out to my sides and tilted my head back so the lights could bathe my face in the energizing glow. “It feels like a magical massage.”
He nodded, grinning widely. “I’ve spent many a night under this gazebo, letting it heal the regrets and challenges of my life.” Despite his obvious joy, his words made him frown. I knew he had trouble dealing with the fact that most of his family were evil. I also suspected he battled the tendency toward being ruthless himself.
I hadn’t trusted him when we’d first met, despite feeling bad for him in his current circumstance, but I’d grown to understand Rustin better over the months since he’d been in my life, and I’d come to the conclusion that he was more like Maude and Madeline than he was Jacob. “Your choices are your own,” I told him. “as are your mistakes. You don’t need to carry the weight of your family’s sins on your own shoulders.”
Something soft and warm bounced against my calf. I looked down to find Mr. Wicked chasing the dancing illumination. He leaped straight up in the air and twisted, his claws extended as he swiped a paw through the pretty bursts of light. The light segmented into several ribbons of illumination where before there’d been only one.
“Look at that,” I told Rustin, laughing. “Wicked changed the light with his claws. He’s so special.”
Rustin laughed too. “He’s special, all right.” Watching my cat tear across the gazebo and then slam on the brakes, sliding sideways several inches before shooting straight up into the air again when a particularly robust dancing light flared past him, Rustin added. “A special kind of crazy.”
I shook my head.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Rustin said after another moment.
I tugged on my seeking magic and it surged forward, exploding from my fingertips with more power than I’d ever experienced. I stumbled back from the force of it and laughed as a dozen thick gray ribbons of power emerged from my fingertips and shot out of the gazebo, traveling in every direction.
“Um, yeah…” Rustin said, looking sheepish. “I forgot to tell you about that. The energy under this roof adds oomph to your magic too.”
“Let’s hope it works more quickly than usual too,” I said. “I’ve got a mess to clean up at home. I’d like to get this wrapped up fast.”
Rustin nodded.
A distant chime sounded, carried on the moisture filling the air as the first rumble of thunder growled across the sky.
“And before it starts raining cats and frogs,” I added.
Lightning flashed in the distance, a flash of yellow light that illuminated the outline of a large bird heading our way.
I tensed, my mind replaying the night Lea and I had battled the massive predator owl that had been Margot Quilleran in her shifted form. I reached over and tried to grasp Rustin’s arm, but my hand found only cool energy.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Is that…?” Lighting flashed again and the owl was gone. But something else boiled at the edges of the dense tree line. I suddenly wished I’d brought Blackbeard’s sword with me.
Silvery light flashed through the trees, followed by the sound of grunts and growls and something slashing through the underbrush.
I tensed, realizing I might have unleashed something I wasn’t prepared to handle. I glanced at Rustin. “What’s happening?”
Light flared across his glasses as he shrugged. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t sound good.”
Silvery balls of energy erupted around his hands, the energy spitting angrily as it grew. The ghost witch’s handsome face showed tension, and his form became more solid as he tugged more magic forward.
Something bit at my fingers. I looked down to find my own magic swirling around my fists. My eyes went wide. I’d never been able to draw so much defensive energy. As a Sorceress, my powers generally ran to finding and wrangling artifacts. I had little to no defensive energy to call. But as I lifted my hands, looking in wonder at the power swirling there, I realized my meager stores were being amplified.
“It’s the gazebo,” Rustin told me. I turned to find him looking at my hands. “It’s enhancing our gifts.” He looked down at his nearly solid form. A wistful look filled his gaze. “It’s making me solid again.”
I opened my mouth to reassure him that Madeline would find a way to make him solid for good again, but the chaos building inside the trees chose that moment to burst forth, driving a slavering, red-eyed army of creatures from the woods. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw…
Bunnies?
Rustin and I stared at the clearly hostile but huggable creatures, our gazes narrowing as they growled and hissed, their long, soft-looking ears dancing with rage.
“Um…Rustin…” I said, hoping he could tell me I was seeing things. “Please tell me we don’t have to fry up a bunch of adorable bunnies tonight.”
He sighed. “Maybe they’ll settle down.”
Judging by the way their delightful little faces scrunched in rage while emitting the most horrible growling sounds, I highly doubted it.
The shadows shifted again, and a few dozen more critters spilled out into the moonlight. Their nearly black eyes reflected the silvery light of
the fat orb high above their heads. They lifted tiny paws with scary sharp claws as they stood on their hind legs and chattered aggressively.
Rustin’s gaze swung to mine. “Squirrels? Really?”
Light slashed through the trees again. A loud bellowing made me jump and twitch, which caused me to send an errant flash of energy into the floorboards, sheering off the tip of my shoe in the process. Sizzling pain shot through my foot as I apparently clipped a toe.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch…” I hopped around on one foot, falling backward in shock as several huge, golden forms broke from the trees, eyes blazing and brandishing massive antlers.
Deer.
The center buck threw back his head on a roar, a massive rack slashing through the low-lying branches of a tree directly behind him and turning the leaves to confetti.
“I repeat,” I told Rustin as I carefully felt my toes inside my sneakers. I thought the damage was limited to the baby toe on my left foot, but the whole foot felt as if it had been broiled so I wasn’t sure. “What is happening?”
The sky erupted behind the deer, the squirrels, and the very angry bunnies and a terrifying mass of small black critters flew out of the trees, dancing and weaving on the air as they headed right for us.
“Bats!” I screamed, ducking as the cloud of flying rodents shot beneath the gazebo and sailed over our heads. Claws caught in my hair and scratched my skin. My hands flew up as something bit the back of my neck. Random bolts of energy sizzled on the air as I swung my arms to get them away from me.
My magic pinged wildly around me in my panic, and one of Rustin’s energy bolts seared past my nose, close enough to singe the hairs in my nostrils. I hit the ground, covering my head against Rustin’s manic flares of magic.
The thundering sound of hooves told me the deer were coming. I could only assume the rest of them were coming too.
“Rustin!” I screamed, unable to get up off the floor as the bats swooped and chittered, attacking my skin, hair, and clothes. I felt as if I had a hundred bleeding bites over my arms, neck, and ankles.
Cooperire! Rustin screamed.
A soothing blanket of energy settled over me. The bats suddenly shot upward, slamming against the top of the magical barrier Rustin had created around us and sinking through, expelled by his magical command.
Shuddering, I shoved at my hair, feeling as if there were bats still crawling around in it, and pushed to my feet.
My eyes went wide. “Splintered toad toothpicks!”
6
Holy Belligerent Bunnies!
Red-eyed bunnies, slavering deer, growling raccoons, and angrily chattering squirrels flew toward us, a fog of hate shrouding their usually benign gazes. A silver haze of magic filtered through them, dusting them with dark energy and urging them forward, into battle.
Hovering above the salivating mishmash of nature’s warriors was Maleficent’s staff, the orb at its crux pulsing with angry light. The familiar high-pitched buzz filled the air, seeming to drive the animals crazy with rage.
I glanced at Rustin. He was staring in horror at the usually timid and basically harmless creatures leaping from the grass and hitting the edge of the platform, intent on doing us harm.
Above my head, bats pounded against the barrier, tiny faces tight with animus and sharp teeth bared.
“This is horrifyingly weird,” I told the ghost witch.
He slowly dragged his gaze away from the attackers, which were systematically flinging themselves at his barrier, creating ripples in its surface that made panic flare in my chest. “You need to neutralize the staff,” he told me. “Once you have it under your control, the spell the artifact put on the animals will be extinguished.”
Oh, yeah. Just neutralize the staff. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I didn’t want to ask, aware of how stupid it made me look since I was basically asking Rustin how to do my job, but the words jammed themselves into my mouth and wrenched my teeth open to jump out. “How do I do that?”
Rustin’s gaze narrowed. “You’re the KoA. You figure it out.”
Yeah, thanks for that. Maybe I didn’t feel bad the witch was stuck in a frog.
Meanwhile, back at the bubble, we were surrounded by angry, hate-filled forest critters, all flinging themselves against the barrier in an effort to get to us.
Hovering above the chaos, the staff seemed perfectly content to watch its makeshift army degrade Rustin’s magic bubble. It hadn’t moved since arriving at the gazebo.
I flung out my hand and sent a thick ribbon of keeper magic toward the artifact. The magic shot away from me and slammed into the staff, hard enough to knock it backward a few feet. Unfortunately, the defiant artifact didn’t answer the summons. Instead, its orb sent out a fresh jolt of dark energy to increase the resistance around us.
Millions of crickets were suddenly slamming against the bubble, creating tiny pocks in its clear surface with every attack. The bugs were succeeding where the larger animals hadn’t. Or maybe Rustin’s energy was degrading under the combined attack of so many magic-enraged critters.
“Use the book!” Rustin shouted as a large crack started at the bottom of the bubble, and the first crickets made their way inside. I jumped as the bugs flung themselves at my legs and frantically kicked out at them, not wanting to slaughter them for something they couldn’t control, but unwilling to have them crawling all over me either.
The crack widened. Something much more dire slipped through, its red eyes peering at me with blatant rage.
I couldn’t help it. I screamed like a girl. The spider was half the size of my palm, with hairy legs and a fat, striped body.
“I hate spiders!” I screamed to Rustin. As it scurried forward, I screamed again and hit the back of the bubble, kicking at the nasty thing as three more spiders entered the crack I’d inadvertently widened when I’d fallen.
A chipmunk squeezed through after the spiders, its tiny teeth bared and claws flashing.
In a fit of desperation, I threw keeper magic toward the chipmunk.
The poor thing squeaked and released its bladder, its fur standing straight up on its tiny body.
Something flashed past and slashed at the spiders, sending them toward the barrier, where they sank through and disappeared.
Wicked wound around my legs.
“Where have you been, buddy?”
“Meow!” He leaped off the ground, and I barely caught him in my surprise. As soon as his body curled into my arms, I felt a surge of energy that nearly lifted me off the floor of the gazebo. It burned through me in an almost painful wave, making every hair on my body stand at attention and my breath huff out as if someone had punched me in the gut.
Wicked nipped gently at my arm. His tail smacked against my side. I got the message. Loud and clear. Lifting my hand, I flung another ribbon of keeper magic toward the staff.
The energy exploded away from my fingers with an ear-popping whoosh of magic that disintegrated Rustin’s bubble and sent the forest friends flying back toward the trees. A thick gray fog filled the gazebo, odorless and dense enough to obscure everything beyond the perimeter of the structure.
The world went silent, except for the soughing of something flying through the mist. Wicked jumped from my arms just as the staff shot through the fog and I flung up my hand to catch it. The green orb flashed once more and then went dark.
The artifact was subdued.
The mist slowly oozed away. When I sent my gaze around the grassy boundary, I saw that the animals had also dispersed.
All that was left was one cute, fluffy bunny nibbling on the grass under the silvery moonlight. Seeing me watching it, the bunny lifted its head from the grass, wiggled its fluffy tail, and hopped away into the trees.
I sagged downward, my grip unrelenting on the staff. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the miniaturized Book of Pages and it exploded into full size at my touch. Balancing it on my knee so I could keep hold of the staff, I touched the cover and, as it warmed and rolled, I thought of t
he toxic magic room at Croakies. The familiar room oozed upward from the page. I slapped the orb end of the staff against it, watching as the orb began to spin and twist and then soaked into the page like water on soft cloth.
I slammed the book closed and sagged to my knees on the floor.
Wicked wound around me, purring loudly. I rested my hand on his back, scratching in front of his tail. “Thanks for the boost, little buddy.”
His response was a wide yawn. He took off toward the car and stood up on his back legs, batting at the door with his paw and meowing at me.
“Yeah, I’m tired too,” I told him. It had been a long day. And, I realized with a jolt of weariness that dragged my shoulders offline. It wasn’t over. I still had a mess to clean up at Croakies.
I was so busy feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t even notice Rustin was gone until I opened the car door and watched Wicked curl up in the seat Rustin had been floating above on the ride over.
I’d walked all over the gazebo lawn looking for the ghost witch, calling out as I searched, but didn’t find him. I finally decided he must have been blown back to where he’d come from like most of the animals had been under the wave of energy my cat and I had created. In Rustin’s case, that would be Croakies, so Wicked and I headed home.
All the lights were on as I pulled up in front of my bookstore. I tried to remember if I’d left them on and decided I hadn’t. Worry spiked.
I hurried toward the door and found it unlocked. Shoving it open and rushing inside, I looked into the startled face of my assistant. “Oh.” Sebille was holding Cinderella’s wand and wearing a white apron. A streak of dirt slashed across her cheek, and she looked just like a red-haired, pointy-eared Cinderella. All she was missing was a song on her lips.
Goddess help me, don’t let Sebille sing. She had a voice like a vulture with strep throat and a clogged nose.
Sebille straightened from the pile of glass she was turning back into the front window. As I watched, golden stars slipped from the wand and surrounded the shattered glass, lifting it into the air and assembling it into a shape that exactly matched the hole in the window. The reassembled glass slid into place with a soft pop.