When I left my bedroom, I found Thistle and Clove waiting for me in the living room. They, too, were dressed in standard jeans, warm sweaters and heavy hoodies. “What are you guys doing?”
“We’re going with you,” Thistle said simply.
“What about the store?”
“Our moms are watching over it for the afternoon. They knew we wanted to go with you, so they volunteered.”
“They probably just want to redecorate,” I said. “They’ve been hinting at it for a year, and with you two gone for a couple hours, now is their chance.”
Thistle’s face went ashen. Under the light of day, I could see that the marks from Aunt Tillie’s curse had completely faded. She glanced at Clove doubtfully. “They wouldn’t, would they?”
“No,” Clove said dismissively. I could see the worry lining her face, too. “We can always change it back,” she added.
“Why do you really want to go?” I asked them suspiciously.
“Goonies never say die,” Thistle snickered.
“What?” I could feel my face begin to redden.
“You love that movie,” Thistle said. “I knew that you were going on an adventure to save the Goon Docks – or find the pirate ship – or whatever. How could you possibly resist?”
They knew me too well.
Instead of arguing with them further, I decided to accept their help. The Hollow Creek was a big area. The odds of me just stumbling on a cave in the middle of nowhere by myself weren’t great.
As we made our way out to my car, I couldn’t help but notice that Clove was lugging a large thermos with her. “What’s in there?”
“Hot chocolate,” she said.
“Why are you bringing hot chocolate?”
“Why not?”
“It’s not exactly like we’re going on a picnic,” I pointed out.
“It’s Rocky Road flavored,” Clove teased.
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“That’s pretty awesome,” I admitted.
The Hollow Creek is a remote area located about twenty minutes outside of Hemlock Cove. It’s a beautiful panorama, with sandy beaches on the banks of the small river that flows through it. For years, the town had been trying to think of way to include the area in various town activities. The problem was, it was so remote that there was no way random tourists could find their way to it. Essentially, it had just become a private haven for town denizens who loved the outdoors.
“Marcus said this is the best fishing in the area,” Thistle said when we were all grouped on the banks of the river about a half an hour later.
“He fishes?” Actually, that didn’t surprise me. Marcus had the look of someone that spent a great deal of time in the outdoors.
“He does. He says he’s going to fry fish for all of us one night.”
“You don’t like fish,” I pointed out. “None of us do.”
“We can pretend for one night,” Thistle protested.
I wrinkled my nose in distaste. I would have to find an excuse to miss fish night.
“Should we split up?” Clove was looking across the small creek uncertainly. It really was a big area.
“I don’t know,” I said doubtfully. “If we split up, someone could get lost really easily.”
Clove didn’t look like she liked that idea one bit.
“We could cast a joining spell?” Thistle suggested.
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. A joining spell didn’t actually join us together; it just made us hyperaware of those whom we were joined to. If one of us happened to wander away, the other two would be able to find her.
The three of us clasped hands in a small circle and concentrated. “Three hearts, three minds, one destination,” we chanted. “So mote it be.”
A slight jolt coursed through all three of us before we separated. “Let’s test it, just to make sure,” I suggested.
“It’s never failed us before,” Thistle countered.
We had actually cast the spell numerous times as teenagers. Hey, when you’re drunk in a field and there are horny boys all around, you can never be too careful.
The three of us separated, heading in different directions. “Try to stay within shouting distance,” I admonished them.
Thistle waved me off dismissively. “Thanks, mom.”
While the sandy areas alongside the Hollow Creek are easy to maneuver, the wooded areas on either side are much harder to navigate. Through the years, trees have toppled and the undergrowth has sprouted into dense foliage that is sometimes dangerous to step in. The search of the area surrounding the creek was a lot harder than any of us initially thought it would be.
After about two hours, we hadn’t found anything. “I think we should cast a finding spell,” Clove suggested.
Thistle and I exchanged wary looks. “I don’t know,” I hedged. “What happens if someone sees?”
A finding spell is vastly different than a joining spell – which eventually dissipates on its own. A finding spell actually involves conjuring an actual element – usually wind – and giving it a physical form. It doesn’t dissipate on it’s own, either.
“No one is out here,” Clove argued.
“Yeah, but what if it gets away from us – like it did during that Easter egg hunt that year?” Thistle asked.
“We were kids then. I think we’re smarter witches now,” Clove countered. “Plus, what are the odds that a grown man dressed like an Easter bunny will see it and think aliens have landed?”
That was actually up for debate – the smarter witches thing. I looked at Thistle for a sign of her opinion. She shrugged. “Why not?”
Unlike the joining spell, a finding spell doesn’t require a circle. Clove closed her eyes, muttered a few verses, and then snapped her fingers. A small ball of light appeared over her right shoulder. Our element.
“What was with the snap?” Thistle asked curiously.
“It’s just something new I’m trying.”
“It’s pretty lame,” Thistle said.
Clove glared at her. “It’s not lame.” She turned to me. “Is it lame?”
“More cheesy than lame,” I interjected.
“That’s so much better,” Clove muttered. “You always take her side. I know you really think it’s cool.”
Thistle and I watched Clove expectantly. “What?” She asked irritably.
“You conjured it, you control it,” Thistle reminded her.
“Oh, right.”
Clove turned to her little ball of light. “There’s a cave with a treasure, see if you can find it.”
We all stood together and watched as the ball of light zipped away and started exploring various areas around the creek.
“It sounds like it’s humming,” Thistle said after a few minutes.
“I tried to make it sound like a cicada,” Clove admitted.
“Why?”
Clove shrugged. “I just thought it would be cool.”
Since the ball of light was now doing all the work, the three of us sat down on a fallen tree and opened Clove’s hot chocolate. It was a beautiful day, but you could feel fall starting to take over the weather pattern. The leaves had started turning weeks ago. Soon, the frost would not only start but stick. And then the snow would come. While winter in northern lower Michigan is beautiful, it’s also my least favorite time of year. I don’t do well in the cold.
After about twenty minutes, during which time we saw Clove’s ball of light crossing back and forth over the creek in its endless search, we were all startled by the sound of something big moving in the woods behind us. We jumped to our feet and scanned the area, looking for a glimpse of what was coming our way.
“It’s probably just a deer,” Thistle said nervously.
“Deer don’t usually make that much noise,” I said.
“Maybe it’s a bear,” Clove said hopefully.
“Get rid of the finder,” I ordered.
“We’re not even sure what it is,” Clove
protested.
“Now,” I ordered.
“She’s right,” Thistle said. “Better safe than sorry.”
Clove sighed and snapped her fingers. The low frequency humming dissipated immediately. Okay, the snapping thing was kind of cool.
A few seconds later, a tall figure stumbled from the woods and into the clearing where we were standing. I should have been surprised when I saw who it was. I wasn’t, though.
“Landon? What are you doing here?”
Landon looked surprised when he saw us. “Did anyone just see a giant firefly?”
Uh-oh.
“No,” I scoffed. “Maybe you’re still hungover from last night?”
Hey, it was a possibility. Those not familiar with Aunt Tillie’s special blend usually ended up on their asses – or on their knees over a toilet. Landon had imbibed half a bottle of wine himself last night. That probably saved him when the naked dancing began. I could only hope he had blocked it out – whether the alcohol had done it or his mind had done it as a defense mechanism.
“I’m not hung-over,” Landon argued, although I noticed he looked paler than usual and the circles under his eyes were pronounced. “Speaking of that, though, what happened last night?”
“You got drunk and we put you to bed on the couch in the backroom of the inn,” I said.
“I didn’t drink that much,” Landon protested.
“Aunt Tillie’s special blend isn’t meant for mere mortals,” Thistle said.
“You guys seem fine,” he countered.
“We’re used to it – and three drinks is our limit. That’s three sips. We know better than guzzling it.”
Landon rubbed his head ruefully. “I guess so. It’s not like you guys didn’t warn me.”
“What are you doing out here?” I repeated the question. I was suddenly suspicious of Landon’s unplanned arrival.
“Your Aunt Tillie said you were down here looking for clues,” Landon said. “Although, I can’t figure out why. She sent me down here.”
“And you listened?”
“She doesn’t seem like she understands the word no.”
Good point.
“So, what are you looking for?”
Thistle and Clove were suddenly fascinated with their boots. Great. What the hell am I going to tell him? Oh, screw it. “There’s an old town rumor that Myron stole gold from Iraq when he was in Desert Storm. He spent a lot of time down here over the years, so we thought it was worth a look.”
What? The explanation made us sound stupid, not like witches.
Landon narrowed his eyes. “Why haven’t I heard about this before?”
“I just told you,” I countered.
Landon sighed, shaking his head irritably. “Have you found anything?”
“No.”
I glanced over to Thistle, but she was staring up at the sky darkly. “It’s about to storm,” she said.
“How can you possibly know that?” Landon asked as he glanced skyward.
We didn’t answer. It wasn’t necessary. The rumble of thunder that followed did it for us.
“It’s going to be a bad one,” Clove said nervously.
“We won’t be able to make it back to the car,” I said. “We have to find shelter.”
Landon looked at us all like we had each sprouted a second head. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re weird?”
Just everyone we’d ever met.
Thistle and I quickly started feeling our way along the thick trees. Hopefully we would be able to find somewhere in the underbrush to take shelter. “Hey,” Thistle said suddenly. “I found a cave.”
Great. If only we would have found it before Landon arrived. Landon made his way to our side, helping us clear the tree branches from the narrow opening. “You want me to go in there?” I couldn’t help but notice the quiver of fear that shook his voice.
“Are you scared of the dark?” Thistle asked dubiously.
“No,” he scoffed. “I just don’t like enclosed spaces.”
“You’re claustrophobic?”
“No,” Landon said, squaring his shoulders as the skies opened up and a downpour began. “I’m fine.”
We all stepped into the cave. The opening was so narrow we had to go single file. I grimaced when I realized I was at the front of the line. When we all were under the protective cover of the rock, I turned to Thistle. “Do you have a lighter?”
“Yeah,” I heard her digging through her pockets.
I used the lighter to continue into the cave, silently using my power to sustain the small flicker so it wouldn’t blow out. I could only hope Landon wouldn’t notice.
“Why are we going into the cave?” Landon asked.
“We might as well look around,” I pointed out. “There’s nothing else to do.”
Thankfully, the narrow passageway widened a few feet in. After walking a few more feet, we stepped into a much wider cavern. Unfortunately, the small light from Thistle’s lighter wasn’t letting us get a very good glimpse of our surroundings. “We should have thought to bring a lantern,” I said finally.
“Next time,” Thistle agreed.
I could sense her moving to my left. The joining spell was still working. “Ow!”
“What is it?” Clove asked in a panic.
“I ran into the wall.”
“Don’t do that. You’ll give me a heart attack,” Clove grumbled.
“Why are you touching the wall?” Landon asked. “There could be snakes or something.”
“Are you scared of snakes, too?” I couldn’t be quite sure where he was in the darkness, but I shifted in the direction I thought his voice was emanating from. To my surprise, I felt something brush my ass. “Really? You’re going to grab my ass now?”
“That’s not me,” Landon said. He was right; his voice was too far away.
“Very funny, Thistle,” I chided her. “I’m going to kick your ass.”
“It’s not me,” she said. Her voice was a few feet away, too.
“Clove?” I asked hopefully.
“Uh-uh,” she said. I’m over by Landon.
“Then . . . whose hand is on my ass?” My voice had risen almost three octaves.
“Maybe you just ran into something?” Landon suggested.
That was possible, but I didn’t think so. My hands were shaking as I turned slowly and flicked the lighter on. I almost passed out when the empty sockets of a human skull were suddenly illuminated in the small light.
“Holy shit,” I breathed. “We found One-Eyed Willie.”
I didn’t get a chance to hear their responses, because suddenly all the blood was rushing to my brain and darkness was overtaking me as a sustained clanging noise started echoing in my mind. The last thing I remembered was Thistle and Clove rushing forward to catch me so I wouldn’t hit the floor of the cave.
The joining spell had enabled them to overcome the dark and find me. I let my own personal darkness overtake me. I just needed a nap, I reassured myself. It would all be fine when I woke up. Being felt up by a skeleton was just going to be a hazy memory.
Twenty-Two
It was just a dream, I realized as consciousness started washing over me again. How could it be anything but? If it had been real, I would have been waking up on the cold floor of the cave. Instead, I was waking up on a soft surface and I had a warm blanket placed over me. It had all been a dream. Just a really bad dream.
“Get up! You’ve slept half the day away! This is not how Winchester women approach life.”
Welcome to my nightmare. What the hell was Aunt Tillie doing in my bedroom? I opened my eyes slowly, the sudden light causing brief blurriness. When Aunt Tillie’s angry face swam into view, I suddenly wished for a case of hysterical blindness. “What happened?” I croaked.
“You fainted, again, and made an ass out of yourself,” Aunt Tillie replied. “Again.”
“I wasn’t asking you,” I grumbled.
“You fainted when you saw the skull,” Clove said
sympathetically. “Landon carried you out of the cave, through the storm and then drove you here. He wanted to take you to the hospital, but we told him Aunt Tillie would be able to take care of you.”
“Why would you tell him that? She’s not exactly known for her bedside manner.”
Clove ignored the question.
“Where is Landon now?”
“He went back to the cave with Chief Terry and a crime scene team,” Thistle said.
“So, it really was a skull?”
“Yeah,” Thistle said. “It really was a skull. You didn’t imagine that.”
“Next time I fancy myself a Goonie, remind me of this,” I said, struggling to sit up. I looked around the room and realized I was in the living quarters of the inn.
“What’s a Goonie?” Aunt Tillie asked.
“Never mind,” I grumbled.
“Is that some sex thing you think goes right over my head because I’m old?” She asked obnoxiously. “I’m on to you.”
“You caught us,” Thistle said sarcastically. “Goonie is a code word for sex. You’re smarter than all of us combined.”
“No one needs your tone,” Aunt Tillie admonished Thistle.
After Aunt Tillie force fed me two bowls of her homemade chicken noodle soup, she finally agreed to let the three of us leave – but only if we promised we were only going back to the guesthouse and not going to get into another round of trouble. “It’s time for my nap,” she sniffed.
“Where is my mom?” I asked in surprise. I was relieved not to have her hovering, but I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t here vetoing my outfit choice of the day.
“I sent her down to Hypnotic with Marnie and Twila,” Aunt Tillie explained. “She was bugging me.”
“She let you run the inn by yourself?”
“It was only for a couple of hours and all the guests were out at the hay ride,” Aunt Tillie answered.
Well, that explained it.
“Besides, Thistle and Marnie were trying to move that big display case in the store and they needed help,” she said.
Thistle visibly blanched. “I’m going to kill them.”
“Let it go,” Clove sighed. “We’ll move it back this weekend. Bay shouldn’t be lifting heavy objects right now, anyway.”
Every Witch Way But Wicked (A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Mystery) Page 12