Witch Myth Omnibus: A Yew Hollow Cozy Mystery

by Alexandria Clarke

  “Thank you,” I said in a quiet, rough voice. “Now, please decide which of you are going to lead off Dominic and which of you will follow me to the town square. Gwenlyn? A word, if you don’t mind.”

  As the witches began to discuss the plan amongst themselves, Gwenlyn followed me into the entry hall. I sat down on the bottom step of the staircase, letting loose an exaggerated sigh. Gwenlyn sat on the step above me, then leaned forward to rest her chin on my shoulder.

  “You okay?” she asked. “I know the whole ‘leader of the coven’ thing is kind of a huge deal for you.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” I said, reaching back to take hold of Gwenlyn’s hand. The scar along her forearm still glowed with the same neon light of my new tattoos. “See this?” I said to her. “I think we’re more deeply connected to each other than the rest of the coven. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because we were both already mediums, but I have a feeling it’s because you were the one to bring me back from the otherworld.”

  “Cool,” said Gwenlyn simply.

  “Yes,” I agreed, “but here’s the thing. If I die—”

  Gwenlyn abruptly drew away from me, yanking her arm from my grip. “Don’t, Morgan.”

  “Shut up,” I ordered and rotated around to face her. “I have to say this while I still have the chance. This damn gun”—I gestured at the grip of the pistol protruding from the waistline of my jeans—“apparently only fires for me, but something tells me that if I die before I get the chance to shoot Dominic, that power is going to transfer to you.”

  Gwenlyn sat in stony silence, avoiding my gaze by staring at the luminescent scar on her wrist.

  “Gwenlyn, if I die, promise me that you’ll take the gun and put Dominic down.”

  “You won’t die,” she said stubbornly.

  “I know,” I said for her benefit more than mine. I had no plans to die again. I wasn’t quite ready to return to the otherworld just yet. Realistically, though, the possibility was too close at hand to consider ignoring. “This is just a backup plan, in the event that Dominic somehow gains an advantage. If I can’t kill Dominic, you have to. Capisce?”

  “Capisce,” she mumbled.

  “Good,” I said, patting her hand. “Now I want you to go with the half of the coven that’s going to lead off Dominic.” As she began to protest, as I knew she would, I clapped a hand over her mouth. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” I continued, “but one of the witches is telepathic. We can speak to each other’s minds at will, but distance is usually a hindrance. Since you and I are closely bonded, you should be able to contact me no matter what. I need you to keep your sights on Dominic, keep me updated, and let me know if anything goes off kilter.”

  She licked my hand to get it away from her mouth. I obliged, wiping her spit off on the leg of her jeans. “Fine,” she said, “but I’m sprinting to the town square as soon as we take care of Dominic.”

  “Fine,” I echoed. It was as good as I was going to get. Gwenlyn did as she pleased, and so far, she had never let me down. “You ready for this?”

  “Let’s kick some ass.”

  The coven’s new level of cooperation was astounding. We split evenly. Gwenlyn, Malia, and about ten other witches headed out to convince Dominic of their obliviousness. Cassandra, Karma, Laurel, and I led the remaining members of the coven to the town square. I had chosen my companions carefully. We needed Cassandra in order to complete the transference of the coven leadership to me. I’d brought Karma along in case Dominic should discover our plan. She had passed out her collection of voodoo dolls to some of the more willing members of the coven. If Dominic sent his army to the town square, Karma could direct the witches into manipulating Dominic’s demons. Laurel was also essential to our success. We did not expect the yew tree, in all its glory, to burn away without a fight. Since Laurel was the most familiar with the yew tree’s natural essence, it fell to her to ease the agony that was sure to accompany its destruction.

  We’re in position, said Gwenlyn’s voice in my mind. It had been blissfully simple to work out our telepathic communication. It felt completely natural, like a cell phone call that took place entirely within our brains.

  Keep me posted.

  Roger that.

  I disconnected with Gwenlyn as the town square came into view. I half expected Dominic to have stationed ghosts or demons to protect the yew tree, but then I remembered Dominic’s ignorance of our plan. The town square was quiet and still, and the yew tree loomed peacefully. Its branches rustled as the witches approached, almost as if in greeting, and a pang of guilt drummed on my conscience as I considered the crime of nature that we were about to commit.

  I rested a hand on the trunk of the tree, allowing its harmonious aura to flow through me. With Laurel’s gift, the tree felt almost human, so when I revealed my intention to it, the swift stream of sorrow that the tree released in response brought me to my knees. I rested my forehead against its rough bark, trying to impart the necessity of our actions. The sorrow did not fade, but a sense of understanding grew from within the yew tree, and as I kneeled in the dirt beneath it, tendrils of the tree’s aura seemed to stretch out and wrap around me, pulling me into an invisible hug.

  The witches had spread out, equally spaced in a loose circle around the yew tree. As I stood up again, Cassandra joined me in the center of the circle. Since the power transference was to occur between the two of us, we would be the ones to initiate the fire that would burn down the yew tree. Around us, the witches joined hands. One by one, a prism of auras merged, arcing from each witch to the yew tree like a bizarre, multibranched rainbow. The colors danced above my mother and me, a dome of vibrant colors. I tipped my head back, taking it all in. When I inhaled, the yew tree seemed to inflate with me, filling me with a wondrous vivacity.

  Dominic’s here, said Gwenlyn’s voice. My chest tightened momentarily with the update. Carter, that other ghost, is with him, but no one else. No sign that he suspects anything of us. He’s rounding us up a few at a time, telling us to go to the town square. Kinda perfect, right? We’re going to rendezvous at the main house and catch him off guard when he follows. How’s it going with the tree?

  It’s going, I replied. Stall Dominic as long as you can, but be careful. I can’t believe that he’d march into our homes without some kind of defense mechanism in place. He’s not that stupid.

  I beg to differ. Even telepathically, I could hear the sass in Gwenlyn’s tone.

  Seriously, Gwenlyn.

  I got it, Morgan. Stop worrying.

  She disconnected, but that certainly didn’t stop me from ruminating on all the ways things could go wrong in the next few minutes. Hopefully, Gwenlyn was smart enough to stay out of Dominic’s warpath. I refocused my attention on the task at hand. The yew tree deserved my full awareness.

  Laurel began to sing, her voice lilting as it wrapped around the Latin words of the spell. One by one, the other witches joined in, stacking harmonies and intertwining new melodies with Laurel’s original song. The yew tree stretched upward, as though it were trying to touch the cupola of colors that haloed around us. Cassandra added her melodious soprano to the mix, her hands folded neatly in front of her as she crooned to the yew tree. Finally, I opened my own mouth to sing. It had never been one of my talents—I could barely carry a tune—but my addition to the tree’s song, no matter how rough, was imperative.

  As the song continued its crescendo, my mother and I drew upon our craft. Then, at the exact same time, we directed our joint spell at the yew tree. A spark ignited amongst its lower leaves, jumping from branch to branch at an alarming rate. The fire burned a fluorescent blue, a color that seemed derived from the combined colors of mine and my mother’s witchcraft. It grew steadily, consuming the yew tree in a cerulean blaze. The fire snaked down the trunk of the tree and spread out to the tree’s roots, where Cassandra and I stood. It hovered near Cassandra’s feet, as if waiting for some sort of final command.

  Confused, I paused in m
y singing to ask Cassandra, “What’s going on?”

  My mother raised her voice to be heard over the chorus of voices. “Dorothy hid more than one secret from you, Morgan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  My mother lifted my chin with one finger. “This ritual requires more than just the transference of leadership. Five Summers women gave themselves to the yew tree in order to seal its protection of our power. To regain that power, we must also give something to the yew tree.”

  “Give what?” I asked, my voice quivering.

  There was a beat in which the fire crackled and the coven sang, but I was deaf to all of it as my mother responded to my question: “Ourselves.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Cassandra took me by the shoulders, her gray eyes shining with reckless determination. “A coven leader accepts responsibility for every witch in her family. A coven leader represents every single soul that is a member of her family. A coven leader is symbolic. I am one person, but as the coven leader, Morgan, I am the coven.”

  The fire at my mother’s feet snaked upward, encircling Cassandra’s ankles like some kind of ethereal jewelry. As I finally comprehended the meaning behind my mother’s words, I lost myself in the deja vu of the situation.

  “Are you kidding me?” I shouted skyward. I had no idea who I was addressing. Maybe the heavens, maybe Dorothy, maybe whoever else might be responsible for playing with the emotions of mere earthlings.

  “Morgan,” my mother chided. She might as well have been scolding me for spilling grape juice on the carpet.

  “No, it’s not right!” I argued. I kicked out at the fire that made its way steadily up my mother’s body, but it only flared at my touch and continued on its way. “Every single person that I love has to give themselves up for me. Dad, Gwenlyn, and now you? You have to become one with the tree in order for us to complete this ritual? It’s not fair! Who will I have left?”

  “Gwenlyn is still alive,” my mother pointed out, “and you will have your sisters, as well as the rest of the coven. Besides, Morgan, I’m not going to die. I’m going to become a part of the yew tree.”

  I crossed my arms. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Mom, but we’re burning the damn tree to the ground!”

  She took in the sight of the yew tree, engulfed in blue flames, then glanced down to where the fire licked at her waist. “You must understand, Morgan. In a few short minutes, you will be the coven leader. You will lead them well. I have the utmost faith in you. And when you defeat Dominic, I have no doubt that you will free Yew Hollow from every form of strife. ”

  “Mom—”

  “Listen to me, Morgan,” Cassandra continued urgently as the flames rose higher. She took a step toward the yew tree so that her back was flush against its fiery trunk. “Do not waver. Do not question your own instincts. You will go down in history as the woman who saved one of the strongest lines of witchcraft in the world. Do not forget that.”

  And before I could respond, nothing but a sob making its way out of my throat, my mother was consumed by the blue flames. Her body seemed to fuse with the trunk of the tree, and above us, the fire blazed brighter in answer to Cassandra’s sacrifice. As the song of the coven swelled to an impossible volume, the dome of auras pulsed. Green leaves burned away to gray ash as the topmost branches of the yew tree succumbed to the witchcraft. Then the fire of the tree reached up and connected with the roof of witchcraft, flowed down to the witches, and the entire town square was bathed in a blinding white light.

  Chapter Nine

  In Which Dominic Makes His Last Stand

  As the light faded, the fire settled, now a natural orange color rather than the peculiar blue. The tree still burned furiously—it would likely take hours for it to wither away entirely—but ash began to drift down like a snow flurry, settling in the hair and on the shoulders of the witches. Five new auras added themselves to the already expansive repertoire within me, and I recognized the familiar vibe of Dorothy Summers making itself at home in my bones. I also knew the other four auras by instinct alone; they belonged to the rest of the original Summers coven. Mary, Ann, Elizabeth, and Bridget had returned to Yew Hollow in the bodies of the present coven, and the power of the originals now coursed through our veins. I trembled with the sheer presence of such renowned individuals. My cheeks were wet, but I didn’t remember when I had started crying. I looked toward the yew tree, at the place near its trunk where my mother had vanished. It was a staggering contradiction that the complete annihilation of the tree was also such a beautiful sight. The bonfire crackled, immersing the town square in warm, golden light. I stood much too close to the conflagration for comfort or safety, but the heat that radiated from the tree dried the moisture running down my face. I stepped closer, closing my eyes against the glare and reaching toward the tree, when a coil of flame stretched out from the tree and licked my outstretched palms.

  There was no pain, at least not any kind of pain that I had experienced before. It was as if my soul had ruptured within me, pressing into every hidden crevice inside my body. I was suddenly aware of every rush of blood through my brain, every pulse of my heart, and every cell itself. My mother’s aura flooded through me, accompanied by countless others, and I understood what was happening. The transference of the coven leader’s powers had taken. Not only was I aware of the personalities of the present coven but also of those of every witch that had ever been born into the Summers clan. My mother had not prepared me for the onslaught of information that I was now bombarded with, downloaded to my brain as if I were nothing more than a supercomputer’s hard drive for the entire coven’s existence. I sank to the ground without being consciously aware of my movement. Hands squeezed my shoulders, and someone’s fingers grazed my cheeks, but I had shut down. I opened my mind, allowing the unrelenting flow of identities to take over.

  Morgan?

  Gwenlyn’s voice broke through the cacophony of the transference process. It took all of my concentration to focus on her, but when I finally did, the chaos in my brain subsided just enough for me to take a breath. I opened my eyes. Karma and Laurel kneeled in the dirt on either side of me, waiting for me to regain my composure. I nodded to them, and together, they helped me to my feet.

  Gwen?

  Dominic’s gone, Morgan, said Gwenlyn as I brushed the dirt from my hands. He took off as soon as the original power shifted hands. That’s what that was, right? I feel like I just powered through a truckload of energy drinks.

  Yes. What do you mean Dominic’s gone, Gwen? Where did he go?

  No idea, said Gwenlyn. He went as white as a sheet, and the ghost that he had with him dimmed like a flashlight out of battery. They ran off, but when we tried to follow them, they’d already disappeared into the woods.

  “Shit,” I said out loud. Instinctively, I knew that Dominic had no plans of backing down. This was his one and only opportunity to stamp out the Summers coven for good, and there was no way he would pass up on it.

  “What is it?” Karma asked, still steadying me with one hand.

  “Dominic’s not happy,” I told them, raising my voice so that the other witches in the square could here me. “Gwenlyn and the others have lost track of him. I highly doubt that he’s gone off to lick his wounds. It’s way more likely that he’s gathering his army together right now. Keep a sharp eye on the trees, people. We’ve got a fight on our hands, one that I intend on winning.” I turned to my sisters. “Karma, get ready to control those demons. Laurel, let’s see what we can do with the trees. Can they let us know when Dominic is close by?”

  “Absolutely.”

  My sisters strolled off, gathering the other witches together to begin building our defense strategy. I wandered away from the yew tree, turning my back on its steadily burning bonfire.

  Gwen?

  Yeah.

  Where are you all?

  On our way to the town square, answered Gwen. There was a hardened determination in her tone, the same kind of determ
ination that now seemed to motivate my every decision. How are you, oh great coven leader?

  I scoffed, but Gwenlyn’s sarcasm was just enough to ease some of the tension between my shoulders that intensified with every passing second. Overwhelmed, I answered truthfully, but I’m hanging in there. You got an ETA for me?

  Five minutes.

  “Morgan!”

  Laurel hurried over to me, distracting me momentarily from my conversation with Gwenlyn. She took my hand, and her natural line of witchcraft jumped between us. The trees of the forest were alert, their roots vibrating with the drumming of footsteps.

  “Do you feel that?” asked Laurel.

  I nodded and withdrew the pistol from its place in my waistband. The ancient runes on my arms brightened again, surely reacting to the ghosts’ advance. “Dominic’s on his way, isn’t he?”

  “He sure is,” Laurel said, her mouth set in a grim, straight line. “And he has every single demon and ghost with him. You were right. This is going to be one hell of a battle.”

  “No pun intended,” I muttered. I stepped up onto the bench beneath the yew tree and raised my voice, addressing the witches as a whole. “Listen up, everyone!”

  With only half of the coven in the town square, our meager number did not exactly inspire confidence. In fact, as I observed each pale face among us, I had to beat down the feeling that we were going to lose this fight. Dominic had a whole host of the undead at his service. I had fifteen witches who’d never really experienced this level of combat before.

  “The rest of the coven is on their way to us,” I began. I took a deep breath, hoping to steady my wavering voice. “But it looks like Dominic might beat them here. We’re going to have to hold our own for a few minutes. Remember how many different talents you now have in your arsenal. Use them to your advantage. I’ll do my best to put down as many ghosts as I can, but until I can get to Dominic, you’re going to have to be relentless.”